#about how the mystical hide in plain sight

[little-pondhead]

There was this one time in high-school I was taking a college level English class and we had this photography assignment and I don’t remember details but we were analyzing certain key elements that showed up in like, disabled war vet pictures and similar stuff. Our assignment was to take our own pictures that featured one of the elements and present it to the class and I didn’t really have many friends in my grade so I just kinda did the whole thing myself. (I found out later people teamed up to help each other take pictures of each other.) When it came time to present like a week later I was actually kinda excited cause I like photography in general, and I thought I actually looked nice in this one. And then people started presenting and I realized very quickly I missed something because everyone had made these really sad and somber pictures like one girl even put on bruise makeup and talked about domestic abuse.

I had made my presentation about fairies.

[bambisnc]

deja vu (anemoia remix!)

pairing : choi soobin x reader! genre : fluff n crack cw/tw : use of caps + uneditted wc : i'll update later im too tired to rn !!

a quiet, peaceful walk was all that you had wanted.

on having recently discovered what you could only describe as the most gorgeous garden you'd seen in your life; it was obvious you would choose its fairytale like setting as the location.

what you had not expected at all though, was to find yourself entangled with a certain someone, who coincidentally, would be a perfect fit for the mystical events which would soon ensue in your so-far rather ordinary life.

you had been busy reading a notice which announced that the anemone flower display would be closed permanently until further information was given; when a shrill voice called out, "soobin?! he was right here- WHERE'D HE GO??"

that's a pretty name, you off-handedly thought to yourself. maybe someone lost a friend, a sibling.

"hey," a voice said suddenly, "you wouldn't have happened to see a rabbit - no i mean, a bunny - around would you?"

obviously, you hadn't. which is what you informed the person who had approached you, as well.

but barely had you politely waved him goodbye did you see a fluffy, white rabbit bound towards you and with a flash of light turn into a boy right in front of your eyes?!

a really, really tall boy, that is.

the innocent disappointment of the expression adorning his adorable features makes your heart physically feel like shattering.

"oh no. oh no oh no oh no-," the boy is looking at his hands, as if he's shocked he even has hands.

right that makes sense; "soobin...? weren't you a rabbit just a second ago-?"

he doesn't question how you know his name.

"i need you to help me hide. the 'timer' won't allow me to turn back to my animal form for some time." he runs his tongue over his lips, probably only a nervous habit, but you can't help licking your own when you notice the boy do so, "please."

you really don't have the heart to say no. but still, you attempt to break it to him, "i'm sure you have your reasons but.. i do not think that would be possible at all."

"what if uh- i tried hiding in plain sight?? i.. i could pretend i'm here with you?? that would throw beomgyu off my trail for some time at least, don't you think??"

"SOOBIN WHERE THE HELL DID YOU RUN OFF TO?!?" beomgyu's near. and soobin for whatever reason refuses to get caught but can also not turn back into a rabbit.

you always knew you were a sucker for pretty boys, but you didn't know to what extent you'd go for one.

well now you do!

it's as if some innate instinct takes over. you place both your hands on soobin's face doing your best to shield it from view, and place a little kiss on his forehead.

and your timing couldn't have been more perfect! you wait, with hushed breaths, only to hear beomgyu walk past the two of you without a single suspicious glance thrown your way!

when you finally move to meet soobin's eyes and apologize for the hasty decision (but it did work!!) you're left shocked. his extremely flustered face completely avoids your gaze as his pretty lips open and shut as if he's trying to say something but the words just aren't coming out.

"i'm so sorry about that it was all i could think of at the mmph-" a hand on your waist pulls you ever so slightly closer and he kisses you.

it's soft, fleeting. barely a featherlight touch of his lips against yours. but it leaves you reeling.

soobin pulls away almost as quickly as he initiated the kiss, eyes wide as saucers. before he can even begin to think of a proper sentence...

...a flash of light. that darned flash of light.

he's a bunny rabbit again.

obviously he's gone immediately. you wouldn't even have had a chance to catch him if you tried.

and as you walk back home that day, the only thought in your mind is him. and, did a were-rabbit (???) really kiss you on the lips?!

-

also, why is there a dried anemone flower in your pocket..? hadn't the exhibit for those been closed?

notes : oh man oh god help me i think i started another series. thats what the 4th one so far? #lovethis + lowkey might leave this here tho and focus on roommate!sc plus the otome au + [m.list] song rec : im predicting that it'll be deja vu the anemoia remix and my god will i be sad if the vibes of this dont match the vibes of the song :/

[afreakingdork]

You Are My Sunshine, My Only Moonshine - Chapter 3

RotTMNT x Reader

I can't stress how much @phoebepheebsphibs brought my vision alive for this week's chapter art~

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Michelangelo (TMNT)/Reader, Michelangelo (TMNT)/You, Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Donatello (TMNT)/You

Warnings: POV Second Person, Gender Neutral Reader, Anxious Reader, Introverted Reader, Stuttering, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Romance, Love, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, Unrequited Love, Rejection, Aromantic Asexual Michelangelo (TMNT), Bisexual Donatello (TMNT), Pansexual Leonardo (TMNT), Lesbian Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit, Demisexual April O'Neil (TMNT), Implied Cassandra Jones | Foot Recruit/April O'Neil/Sunita, Endgame Donatello (TMNT)/Reader, Romantic Love, Platonic Love, Panic Attacks, Sexuality Crisis, Agoraphobia, Social Anxiety, Happy Ending, Fluff

Synopsis:  You’ve lost most of your life to anxiety and fear. Now, in your late 20s, you are desperate to reclaim it and during one such outing you encounter the sun personified. With his and his similarly celestially inspired family, will you finally reach your goal or will you lose yourself along the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 💛 Previous

The moon moved the tides.

It was a factoid that struck you after your fateful introduction to Mikey’s family. You had to process what had occurred. You spent the better part of that next month grappling with the things they could do. Mike was already more powerful than any other human by will alone, but that should have been limited to his incredible disposition. If that wasn’t enough, he had his turtley good looks. That meant anything more was an unjust balancing of skills and yet Mikey actually did have the god-like power you had considered unavailable to him. 

After surviving the movie night, you hadn’t been able to confront Mikey properly and instead told him you were tired as a means to head home right away. Mikey chirped something about that making sense since you hadn’t flexed your going out muscles in a while and happily saw you off. It was only an hour later, tucked in your bed, that you furiously typed out a mania of messages asking if what you had seen was real. Mikey called you and you had then spent the better part of your night hearing a far too casual explanation of all the things you hadn’t put together.

Casey meant it when she had called Mikey a mystic warrior.

There was an alternate timeline.

There was an entire second city under New York.

There had been many more plots to eradicate the human race than those on the surface knew of. 

Mikey was made for one of these plans. 

It was all too much. 

Relating this and unable to sleep the entire night, you thanked the calendar makers that it was the weekend. You spent most of it in recovery mode, only responding sparsely to Mikey’s texts. He had your address now. Not sure how liberal he’d be with that information, you continued forth, trying to fit the man you knew with the one that your eyes had been open to.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been such a big deal. 

Everything you knew about life itself no longer made sense. 

There were entire world’s worth of species with supreme intelligence that had smartly relegated themselves to mythos.

Hiding in plain sight.

Anywhere and everywhere.

Besides work where you were as flighty as a canary, you secretly stared at your coworkers to see if they were any of the broached.  You felt like one of those conspiracy theorists with no way to know how far this all actually went. Almost believing that lizard people were indeed in charge, it was around that month mark when you’d awoken from a nightmare knowing your stress levels were absurd ones. Mutants were a known fact and had already dealt with their media hubbub. Yokai were ancient and hadn’t toppled society yet.

Nothing was actually different other than your knowledge of it all. 

It also rang eerily close for you. 

You’d spent your own life in the shadows for literal decades. 

How had these beings not gone stir crazy in millenia? 

You then were struck for comparing yourself. 

They were forced to. 

Fear or not, the circumstances weren’t comparable. 

Guilt drove you. 

You needed perspective. 

You wanted to be better. 

You sent Mikey a message. 

You: Would it be possible to see the Hamato powers?

In this way you could remove the mysticism from the acts, even though you were sort of sure that’s what they had called magic anyway.

For the first time in what had to be your whole time knowing Mikey, it took him over an hour to get back with you.

Getting more nervous by the minute that you had somehow insulted him. He returned just as you were leaving for work to apologize for the wait. He said he needed to round up his brothers and only asked if you wanted his dad to be a part of the show. You knew Splinter from Mikey’s explanation, but you had yet to officially meet the rat mutant. His fortitude as the legendary Lou Jitsu had seemingly appeared only in his buffed fighting strength. Now grappling with yet another superpowered person, one you had not accounted for and who could, somehow, apparently use every brothers’ power, felt like biting off a little more than you could chew. You would start with the base and work up, you decided then. One step at a time, you asked just the four for now and Mikey quickly rattled off the where and when.

The first of was a location in the middle of nowhere and appeared inaccessible to your searches. 

The coordinates were quickly followed up by an explanation that Leo would portal you as the initial demonstration. 

The date of which was scheduled later that same week.

Again, you did not have near enough time to prepare.

It seemed like seconds passed until you were in the lair and then out on a field. 

Words were happening. 

Something was happening. 

Raph then grew to the size of a glowing Godzilla. 

You stared with your head tipping so far back it felt like you cut off your circulation. Awe not to be diminished, you saw a zip of orange and located Mikey, flying, to land on his brother’s glowing snout. It might have been a cute display were you given any warning for any of this. Instead, you felt your arm tapped and your head lolled to where Leo told you to watch him. His tongue appeared bitten amongst his excited smile before he disappeared out of existence. A sizzle of sparks left in his wake, you sought him out along the ground when a flash of blue light pulled your eye. The blue brother appeared, pinballing in portals all the way up the tower before he gestured at Mikey.

Zips of orange and blue struck like fireworks all over the sky.

Taking a step back, you fell onto your ass in the soft grass.

Even from his massive height, Raph took notice of your fall and shrank down. It left him over a football field away, but he only held out a hand which then kept going. A red projection stretched all the way to your side in an offer. You took it with quaking fingers and felt how it was a solid, but empty light. No warmth other than the shade, you wanted to lean against it, but the thought made you feel all the more pathetic. This was meant to be a grounding experience. You knew Mikey. He wasn’t scary. He was your hero. He was also exploding over and over again in the sky. 

Hapless, you turned your attention to the only brother not participating.

Donnie was sat near where you had exited the original portal and was tapping away on his phone as if he couldn’t be bothered.

“Donnie!” Raph seemed to shoot along his projection and appeared holding your hand. 

You shrieked in fear and were once again on your behind.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I can move where they do.” Raph helped you up. “But I get it, you know what helped me?”

You stared at him as nothing could help you.

“Playing Pants Pants Revolution!” Raph did a few hopping steps. “I used to trip a lot when i was a kid, but I wasn’t gonna be the big lug with two left feet forever, that’s for sure!”  

You nodded faintly.

“Wait, what was I-?” Raph scanned the ground until he found what he was looking for. “Donnie get up! Let’s go! We can show off our combo move!”

Donnie said nothing and, to your eye, hadn’t moved in the slightest outside of the swipe of his hand.

“Having trouble… ya know? Performing?” Raph knelt down beside him with a snide grin.

With a slow lifting of his head, you saw twisted fury beneath Donnie’s smiling veneer. “While I appreciate your concern…” He held the pause as if drumming up anticipation. “No. Everything is in working order.”

Raph checked around his head space. “Huh. Goading you usually works.”

“Not this time.” Donnie responded with pure ice and dropped his gaze back down to his phone.

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you had a moment to breathe. 

It broke your shuddering form to only a shaking one. 

The chatter of your body quieted, you heard a blip. 

Something akin to a spark, you were involuntarily moving toward the sound when Raph’s body collided with you. 

He held you hard to his plastron as you went tumbling. 

Air and everything else was sucked from you, leaving you unable to even cry out. 

No one would have heard it as the Earth itself sounded as if it were exploding. 

The thundering tapered off into the cloudless sky and you were left covered in grassy debris. 

Raph unfurled himself and checked you over. 

In front of you was an idyllic field. 

The disaster must have been behind you. 

You’d have to face it.  

“Guys!!!” Raph roared and left you.

“Huh. I was sure that’d work.” Leo remarked, no clearly on the ground.

“Is Y/N okay!?” Mikey squeaked before you heard plodding footsteps head towards you.

Readying for another impact, nothing came other than a delicate hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N? Oh no…” Mikey’s head appeared out of the corner of your vision. “You’re in shock!”

“It’s just so unlike you.” Leo sounded like he was upset with something else. “Oh!” You heard a snap. “I know what it is! You’re having performance anxiety!” His voice rose several teasing octaves. “Having a little stage fright there, bud?”

Donnie. 

There had been a catastrophe and he was talking about Donnie. 

“The fact…” You heard a rustling noise followed by what sounded like pants being dusted off. “… that both of you and Raph tried to provoke me using the same exhausted joke is telling.”

“Ah, Raphie!” Leo cooed affection. “You too!? Mi hermano! We are brothers!”

“Uh, guys?!” Mikey waved a hand in your face.

“Yeah, yeah in a minute, Mike.” Leo prattled off. “What’s the deal then, Donton?”

“Are we finished?” Donnie responded coolly.

“Uh, yeah maybe if you tell me why you aren’t showing off. That’s your thing, isn’t it? Validation? Remember?” Leo’s voice moved and quieted. “Did we hit him by accident?”

There was the distinct sound of a gun cocking and Leo gave the smallest fearful squeak.

“So you are good!” Raph exclaimed without real surprise.

Mikey’s head swiveled where he was examining you. “Huh? Something up with Donnie’s little purple-?” 

You didn’t see or hear what hit Mikey, but you watched him go down beside you. 

A scream started in your throat, but Leo’s hand wrapped around your mouth. “Shhh, shhh. I know. I’m sorry about this. It’s scary, right? You seem scared.”

You could see his worried face and you nodded around a few tears spilling.

“Look here. He’s fine.” Leo kicked Mikey’s limp leg in demonstration.

“We said no head shots…” Mikey groaned.

“I’m gonna let go now. Are you still going to scream?” Leo’s mask rose with judgment. 

You shook your head.

Leo carefully released, but held a hovering hand up just in case.

You sank down, barely catching yourself from outright collapse.

“Okay… Good first step.” Leo ushered softly. “It’s a lot. I get that. I’m just not a fan of bursting my ear drums anymore than they already are from… ya know…” He swiveled his wrist gesturing to what you assumed was his life. “We mighta sorta kinda maybe went a little overboard.”

You wished you had the fortitude for sarcasm.

Leo saw how he’d both understated and not explained a thing. “Okay! Fine! Mike and I were trying to do a cool landing! For you! It was gonna be awesome! We just came in… too hot! Like really hot. Like maybe surface of the Sun hot? It doesn’t feel that fast when you’ve been going hundreds of miles of hours for like fifteen or whatever minutes or hours or like ever? We may have misjudged the distance and blew a crater in this pretty nice field, but hey! It’ll grow back! It has before!” 

You felt like your very neurons were leaking out your ears. 

“And with that piss poor explanation, we’re done here.” Donnie asked, bitter. “Let’s go.”

Leo glowered over his shoulder.

You still hadn’t turned around.

“What is your problem, man!?” Leo snapped, moving out of your sight.

You had to look.

You needed to see what had happened.

Dispel the mysticism.

“Me?!” Donnie growled. “You of all people should see!”

“See what? I apparently need enlightening because why else would I be asking?!” Leo huffed.

Fisting grass, you got one of your shoulders down which popped at the strain.

“You! All of you! How you show your entire hand! Email me so I can print out and bind your whole playbook!” Donnie yelled. 

“What are you even talking about!?” Leo matched his volume. 

Glimpsing Raph’s leg, you were almost there.

Silence chased your ears.

The two weren’t fighting anymore. 

“You cannot be serious.” Leo gaped. 

Not even the wind sounded through the grass.

Passing two more sets of green legs, you found a mound of dirt nearly twice the size of the already tall turtles.  Hobbling to your knees just to see it better, you stumbled sideways until you could see how the Earth churned the Earth like ice cream.

Your legs gave out a third time.

This was nothing compared to the climbing wall. 

Leo and Mikey had fallen from the sky. 

They had done this to the ground. 

Both of them were walking without so much as a scratch.

Raph had saved you. 

“Y/N?”

You looked up to see both Raph and Mikey had followed you.

Mikey looked particularly unmarred without any evidence of whatever had knocked him over.

The younger reached first and you scrambled backwards unconsciously.

The pair mixed their surprise and concern while the other two picked up their bicker as an odd backdrop.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” You got out meekly, getting to your own feet. “L-Leo was… r-right…”

“Someone say my name?” In a twirling gesture, Leo danced away from Donnie and split the sunset.

Before a solar eclipse closed the gap, you saw Donnie send some ire after Leo before he sent pure rage at you.

What had you done?

A star sparkled to distract you and Leo bent forward so he was at your eye level. “How’s it hanging? Weak in the knees? We have that effect on people.”

Your gaze slammed to the ground. 

You were never good with people like him.

One minute he was quieting you and not it was teasing. 

Where Mikey manipulated people earnestly, Leo did it with slick speech.

“Hey.” He popped a squat. “Minus one humpty dumpty who got put back together with a stick shoved up his butt, I can tell you this was pretty fun.”

Covering your mouth with a nervous fist, you found it impossible to look him in the eye. 

He went on. “It’s not very often we get to show off. We wanted to impress you both for us and Mike’s sake. We just got a little too excited is all.”

You managed what you thought might be a nod.

“We’re heroes.” He did a form of jazz hands in your vision. “Nothing to be scared of. We use our powers for good… mostly.”

Giving a little exhale, you looked over his spread digits.

“So like maybe once in a while I skip airport security and the whole passport situation, but look at this face! I’m too beautiful for those terrible license pics, don’t’cha think?” One of Leo’s hands left your vision. 

He appeared to be waiting so you snuck him a glance. 

Leo was indeed patient with his chin dropped into a purlicue for a comical glamor shot.

It helped you hold his gaze. 

“Fess up! What else we got boys?” Leo spoke at you, but not to you. 

“Mayhaps Raph has made dummy duplicates to hold his place in line.” Raph pretended to be sheepish, but his smile said he thought himself clever.

“I’m pretty sure I’m wanted in like two countries.” Mikey grinned far too bright for what he’d just said.

“And he who is being a purple pain in my ass is on the FBI, CIA, MMA, or whatever three letter combination you can come up with watch lists.” Leo waved his hand.

“They all lag light years behind my security.” Donnie’s phone was back at his attention. “Though I somehow doubt the intelligent monitoring systems of mixed martial arts,a sport mind you, consider my status.”

“These are just ninja perks.” Leo offered you a hand.

Your index finger made the trek in a nervous twitch until you just barely skirted Leo’s palm.

“There ya go. Look at you.” Leo ushered as if you were a scared dog.

“Kinda demeaning…” You blurted out quietly.

It caused Leo to blink his eye’s wide. 

Mikey burst out laughing and had to hang onto Raph to stay upright.

Great indignity blossomed on Leo’s face before he rose away from you in one upright shot. “Fine! You know what?! We are going home! Woof, woof Mad Dogz! We’re homeward bound!!”

Walking through the portal, you weren’t sure if you’d accomplished what you’d hoped. It wasn’t until later after you showered that you learned you’d earned a seat in the Hamato’s home. Mikey was ecstatic over it, texting you a mile a minute about how Leo casually suggested he should bring you over. At first you didn’t understand why. Mikey taking you under his wing was one thing, but Leo would need an angle. You doubted the blue brother did charity work. When you tried to relay this to Mikey, he only seemed to think the exact opposite of his brother. 

You had no choice, but to believe Mikey. 

You took those thoughts to bed and decided to try to parse out more information in the morning. 

Wary and quick to hold grudges, Leo was described to you as someone who was a good judge of character. Mikey supported his claim with stories of Leo’s leadership and you clutched your phone tightly where you were riding public transit to work. The bus ride rocked you in a soothing manner and you considered what it meant for Leo to see something in you. You weren’t sure if it was like Mikey’s interest, but there’d also been a shift. 

In a way, you thought yourself scared shitless. 

You weren’t sure if your nerves were currently so shot that you no longer cared or if, in your horror, you’d gotten past the point of fear, but you’d reached an accepting state regarding the Hamato’s powers. If anything, when you thought of them now it came with a state of neutrality. Not sure if it would last, you asked Mikey for time. He said it was no problem at all, he knew his family was a lot, and you wished you could clarify. He was just as tightly packed in with the others and you needed to process. Phone loosening in your hand, you settled into your seat to think. 

You’d survived your encounter. 

That counted for something. 

They were undoubtedly heroes. 

You knew the stories everyone else did, even if there were things the public weren’t privy to. 

There was still your quest to be more outgoing. 

Could you argue you were too far to back out now?

The moon moderated the planet’s wobble.

You spent several days going back and forth on the matter before you found your nerves were still on a steady course. Trusting those more than your mind, you accepted Mikey’s invitation to officially come over to the lair. Done after you’d gotten home from work, your phone rang as soon as the message was confirmed as read. Mikey demanded your immediate attendance as he was baking cookies. Telling him you didn’t actually know the way, he clarified that the oven wasn’t even preheated and he was now going to make cookies because you had said yes.

It helped. 

He helped. 

You laughed and he asked to come pick you up.

It was the first of many. 

Your cookie filled coronation had been a quaint affair. 

Leo, Mikey, and you shared the treats while everyone else was busy. 

A cheers done with milk solidified the deal. 

The lair was now added to your selection of safe havens and Mikey appeared on your stoop as your herald more and more often. Never arriving without your authorization, he seemed to adore his attendant duties and joked about driving you. After Leo’s comment about licenses you weren’t so sure any of them had one and, when prompted, he seemed to confirm they didn’t. Still, there was no need for a car in the city so you both either hung out in the lair or continued your outings. 

The latter of which had started up because you began to visit Mikey’s home. Each Hamato with their own idiosyncrasies and you found them to be an equal test of your mental fortitude. No matter how much they depleted your social battery though, they were a fun bunch and you brought them close to your heart. It would have shifted all your life for the better if there wasn’t one exact turtle sized problem you were also dealing with. 

Donnie hated you.

You had no idea why.

No matter how many times you ran through the very small amount of time you’d interacted with him, you couldn’t find the point in which you’d garnered the anger.

You did research. 

You looked for a custom that might have been broken. 

You ran every mental scenario you could possibly imagine. 

From stepping on his dropped contact lens to accidentally taking his special stapler, you’d gone through thousands of scenarios. 

It got you no closer to solving the problem. 

His wrath was impervious. 

In the handful of times you’d been to the lair, he appeared as soon as you entered. Like the moon hanging around the day’s sky after its night watch, he only loomed. It was as if he knew the moment you entered and came just to glare daggers at you. If you mistakenly caught his eye, he was unperturbed in knowing you saw him. For you he had no shame, but if anyone else tried to follow your haunted eye line, he would suddenly be looking in any other direction that wasn’t yours. Trapped under his omnipresence, you often escaped to the bathroom just for a reprieve.

Your longest record of surviving his gaze currently sat a measly 32 minutes undisturbed.

Multiple trips were embarrassing in their own right, but it at least gave you room to breathe. You found it a safe haven right up until the moment it wasn’t. You guessed you should have figured that eventually you’d be found out. Several visits deep and your excuses running thin, you emerged to find Donnie standing right outside the door. You were trapped between porcelain and him. Your pause yet another misstep, your knees knocked together as he stormed toward you with flowing fury.

“Why were you excused from jury duty last year?!”

It was so out of left field, you had no answer for him.

“Well!?” He used his height to tower over you. 

“I-I… d-don’t…?”

You barely remembered the moment. 

You’d been pardoned more than once. 

You usually never did anything to garner them. 

Somehow narrowing his gaze further, Donnie clicked his tongue and made a comically wide steer to get around you.

Growling to himself the entire way, he disappeared around a corner.

It wouldn’t be the last. 

As if that question was an experiment all its own, he now knew he could approach you as soon as you strayed from the group. 

He appeared the moment you did with some ill gotten question.

It wasn’t funny, but it painted him a detective at his wit’s end.

“Why’d you fail 10th grade geometry!?”

“You claimed Amanda was your best friend in elementary school, but there were two Amandas in your class. Which one was it?!”

“Did you leave your last food service job because you never paid for those tacos you offered to comp?”

Whether you answered his inquiries or not, he didn’t seem to care. You only assumed he was getting something out of the exchanges because he kept going after you. While his questions were expected, you could never prepare. He had all manner of dirt on you which became more invasive with time. He was already pervasive enough, but the fact that he’d gotten you to admit to stealing a marble from a craft store when you were four was borderline harassment. 

Even then, that still wasn’t what he wanted. 

You were ashamed to admit you were leaving the lair earlier and earlier. 

Something had to be done. 

You knew that. 

Mikey was starting to notice. 

He didn’t see Donnie, but he saw you. 

Mikey was clearly bending over backwards to ensure your comfort. 

It made the situation worse. 

All because you refused to rat Donnie out.

You couldn’t. 

Not when Mikey adored Donnie. 

Not when this was clearly your fault. 

Not when you would only suffer more if you did anything to disrupt this family’s balance. 

You were new. 

Donnie was mad. 

Donnie also cared about his brothers. 

He was fiercely protective. 

You were aggravating him because you hadn’t figured out what you had done wrong yet. 

You could last a little bit longer. 

You’d figure it out. 

You’d fix it. 

You couldn’t ask for more help. 

This was happening because of you. 

Still, you made about as much progress in your plight as Donnie did his. Early departures from the lair soon turned to you dreading even arrival. While Mikey’s sunny day had once been a safe bubble, Donnie’s distrust was that of a gas. It grew noxious and suffocating until it filled your lungs to the point of bursting.

You had to hold out. 

The moon stabilized climate.

An invitation came. 

You had heard story of the famous Hamato movie night, but you didn’t dare think you’d be offered a seat. It was a special affair held once a month and unlike any other. It marked the adult family carving time out of their busy schedules to get together. It was for them and not something you felt longing for. Instead, when Mikey mentioned it in passing, you felt a warmth in your heart at how studiously they were there for one another. 

Staring at Mikey’s casual call for you to come by during one almost felt like a mockey. 

What had you done to earn a seat at the proverbial table? 

Were they a democratic bunch?

Donnie must have voted no to your attendance. 

Had the majority agreed?

If you thought about it for too long then you could convince yourself that all of them had vetoed you in some way. 

Still, you didn’t feel like you could pass up the momentous offer. 

This was important to Mikey. 

It was important to you.  

Attending found a packed lair and a chance for you to put faces to the last outliers in the clan. Hit with a whirlwind of names you weren’t sure you could remember and painfully trying to come up with a pneumonic device to keep from screwing everything up, Mikey abandoned you as soon as he was asked to make his famous rice krispie treats.

Knowing it wasn’t malicious and instead a show of how he trusted you to get along with his family, you tucked yourself into a far bean bag in an attempt to become as small as possible. On the outskirts of the herd, the others were too savvy for their own goods and you were soon pelted with questions. With your safety blanket several rooms away, you tried to answer, but the speed of the questions picked up until voices seemingly came from every direction. Mouths freely floating, it triggered a painfully ingrained fight or flight that you were about to give into when one voice cut through the crowd.

“When are you finally going to admit your villainous intent?”

Donnie’s question had the caliber of a gunshot. 

Its reverb silenced the crowd. 

It then permeated a cloud layer where all hell broke loose.

Wild like spring, April smacked Donnie up the back of his head. “Do you hear yourself?!”

A perky pulp, Sunita dropped to her knees beside you and mistakenly screamed in your ear. “Omigosh!! Don’t listen to him!!”

Blunt and wrapped in unbreakable binds like the hockey stick she carried, Casey sneered until her upper lip rolled back. “O’Neil’s strikes have dislodged something in your brain! I’d sniff out the indoctrinated in a second if there were one!”  

“Are you still going on about this?” Raph groaned.  

“It doesn’t make sense!” Donnie sprouted rotors and flew out of Aprils’ reach. “If you would just listen! Use your brains for a moment then you’d see! You were all tested! Each of you earned your spots! Then this one walks in and gets a free pass!? Why!?”

As if inciting war, sides were taken up with arms.

“I call challenge!!!” Casey screeched to an echo. “In the bonds of combat we shall unearth true intention!!”

“That’s not how friendship works!” April climbed onto the couch in an attempt to leap after the purple turtle. “You don’t have to fight to become friends!”

“It helps, does it not O’Neil?!” Casey launched herself at April. 

Sunita intercepted. “You know what I find always works?! A group hug!! One time my aunt Chloe and my other aunt Rachel were in a multi-year fight over who stole whose college boyfriend and after they hugged it out and had to spend the next three days separating their jellies, they came out of it closer than ever!” 

“Classic movie night!” Leo cheered through a mouth full of popcorn.

“Donnie, look what you did!” Raph pointed down at the floor. “Get down from there right now!”

Maniacal laughter followed from multiple sources and you pulled your legs to your chest.

They were fighting.

You were the cause.

You failed. 

You ruined movie night on top of everything else.

Why couldn’t you solve it?

You had only needed to make up with Donnie.

Then all of this would stop.

You just had to make it stop.

Everyone just needed to stop.

Hands going over your head, a single thought popped up.

Donnie would be happy if you only removed yourself from the situation. 

Unfurling until a toe touched the floor, you heard a loud whirr and Donnie slammed down to his feet to block you. 

“No way! Nuh uh!! You think you’re going to leave?! Sneak away during all this commotion!?” He held his hands out, passing off ownership of the orchestrated chaos. “You’ve created this… this… distraction!” Finding the word, he loomed over you with an expression dripping with sadism. “I think it’s about time you took my lie detector test. One that actually works…” His fingers writhed to grab you and tears burned fresh in your eyes.

Something metallic was struck and its tuning fork hum rang in your ears.  

“What are you all doing!?” Mikey stood with flowery oven mitts on and the ruins of his rice krispies spilling out from the tray he’d dropped. “Y/N?!”

Casey roared to life at the same time as Donnie.

“We are preparing to test the grit of your baby soft acquaintance!”

“This has to be done, Mikey! We have to know for sure!”

“Know what?!” Mikey screamed.

A geomagnetic storm, orange electricity flicked off of him like a plasma ball.

Except there wasn’t a casing.  

As he closed in, you felt it cause the hairs on your arms to stand on end.

“What they have over you!” Donnie was pleading insanity. “What they’ve done! How they’ve tricked you into letting them hang around!”

“Donnie, that’s enough!!” Leo appeared with a hand to Mikey’s shoulder.

You stared as the orange energy began to obviously sear Leo’s skin, but he didn’t let go.

This was all your fault.

“You’re jealous! We get it!! But you need to stop making it everyone else’s problem!” Leo continued. 

The indignity hit Donnie with an inhale that seemed to never stop.

“Mike’s allowed to have his own life outside of you! Outside of us! Can’t you be happy for him? Don, seriously?! Take a second, a breath. Then we can finally talk about this instead of you always running away-!“

Donnie launched himself with a swinging arm toward Leo, but an orange chain appeared to wrap around his arm.

Coming from seemingly nowhere, Donnie was yanked. 

“Mikey…” Raph warned, getting up slowly.

“You know how unfair it is!?” Mikey shouted as orange glowing pools of sunshine overflowed and dripped down his face. “How I’m a whole adult and you all still treat me like a baby! How I’m still not trusted to make decision on my own! How I go along with it to make you all happy!” Mikey spun from addressing the room to send his pupil-less gaze at Donnie. “Why can’t you trust my judgment on this!? On anything!?”

“Because!” In a burst of purple energy, the orange chain shredded to bits. “Because you do this! Because you still lose control! Because you never did keep up with the training Draxum started you on! Because all of you! You!!!” Donnie threw a finger into Leo’s face. “Just YESTERDAY I was the reason you didn’t eat shit in the Hidden City because of my obsessive monitors! I caught that Yokai trying to attack you! Me!! And why did that happen!?” Donnie threw his arms out and spun around to April specifically. “HRM!?”

April only frowned. “Cause Leo didn’t trust that axolotl, but Donnie-”

“On a hunch!!” Donnie hissed, turning back to Mikey and Leo. “So, don’t give me that making it someone else’s problem crap. You’re just as paranoid as me! As Raph!” Donnie zeroed in on Mikey. “Not you though. You get free reign from our worries!”

“How could you say that!?” More molten tears exploded from Mikey’s face.

One hit the floor and sizzled.

“I’m the one who watches you!” Mikey cried.

“Then stop! Your duty is self imposed anyway! No one asked you to be the family therapist! You force it on us like everything else!!!” Donnie screamed.

Leo looked away.

Raph rubbed the back of his head.

“You create a Doctor of the hour because it makes you feel useful.” Donnie dropped his volume for pure scathe.

Mikey’s gaze hit the floor where he was burning very real divots into it.  

“You take care of that and I’ll take care of this.” Donnie coolly glanced at Leo who was still avoiding eye contact before he zeroed in on you.

You wished you were an ant so you could drown yourself in an acid pool of Mikey’s tears.

“My lie detector is only mentally invasive. I want to run a single test. I will find out what hold you have on my little brother.” Donnie nodded for you to follow him.

Could you go?

You felt like if you took a single step you would pass out.

Were you breathing?

Was this the end?

It felt like Donnie was the mad scientist and any prick from him would cause you to become a husk. 

Maybe then you’d finally match your worth. 

“Is it…?”

Mikey’s voice was near silent, but the whole room turned toward him.

Bringing his head up, those same orange tears were flowing, but they now lifted free from gravity and drifted away from his face.

There they formed dangerous globules in the air. 

“… so hard to believe…?”

He took a step forward and with it the very energy was drained from the room. 

Everything took on an orange hue.

“…that I COULD JUST HAVE A CRUSH ON SOMEONE!?!”

Like a solar flare, Mikey released a shock wave from the power he’d pulled.

💛NEXT💛

Much love to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[imaginesofeverykind]

He Fell Out Of The Sky, Your Honour || S.Sallow || Chapter 1

Series Summary: The turn of the century was on the horizon, new discoveries and even greater mysteries yet to be uncovered. Though the year had been one of adventure for passionate Botanist Luce Cornwall, it takes an unexpected turn for better or worse when her life becomes entangled with a man who seems to be desperate to run from his past and Sebastian Sallow instantly catches her eye as the next big mystery to uncover. (Set in 1899 post game canon)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Original Female Character

Word Count: 3.4k

Next Chapter

Venomous Tentacular And the Spectacular Love Affair Series Masterlist

Warnings: None this chapter, just Sebastian feeling useless,angsty and historically based sexism. (Idk how accurate it is tho)

—- —- —-

Sebastian Sallow was many things.

Quick witted, highly intelligent, skilled in his ways and most importantly — quite the talented escape artist.

Others would be quick to use cowardice to describe a man grown, running from the phantoms of his past and refusing to face his dues. With age came maturity and with this maturity, his aptitude for hiding and not being caught was profoundly better than it was when he was in his adolescence.

Though admittedly, the abrupt halt in his schooling left much to be desired as a budding powerful magic user, now having to rely on memory and what he could find in his travels.

So it was no surprise to all, least of all him when he only just understood apparition and how to use it properly still. Barely having breached the subject in his fifth year of schooling considering it was something taught in further depth in sixth and seventh year, though he had familiarized himself with short bursts of apparition with the help of that ever mystical new fifth year. Not particularly a welcome memory that was, reliving the anguish of disappointment and hatred that consumed his teenage years. Back then he was an impetulant, foolish boy with misguided curiosity.

Truth be told, he never truly believed he would be caught. The pseudo hubris that not only inflated his ego, it also blinded his logic which is why he was in this mess in the first place. No place to call home, no friend to fall on if he needed it. Solitude was destitute and it was the life he maybe not yearned for, but it was destined for him it seemed.

Despite his shortcomings and lack of knowledge for advanced practical use of spells like apparition, he was lucky to only come away several times mildly splinched and heavily disoriented when the ministry got a little too close to finding him once again. If he could avoid it, he would, opting for muggle transport more often than not and hiding in plain sight. Though it managed to suffice for seven years, it wouldn’t last forever.

Some part of him hoped that the ministry would lose interest, and when a year turned into seven, he slowly resolved that perhaps they would never not be in pursuit of a cold blooded killer.

Killer.

A title befit of the wretched man who cursed his sister, not a stupid young boy protecting her. He hadn’t meant it, truly, to kill their Uncle. As wicked and horrid as he may have been at times he was only ever looking out for them, only it was too late to reminisce and beg forgiveness to an empty space that once were occupied by his closest loved ones.

Nevermind the past, it was the present, the here and now, and right now — he needed to be on the move once again and with little to no time on his side at this instant he quickly gathered what small personal items he had and sealed them within his briefcase. Clothes, pictures, trinkets — whatever he needed with him at all times. Flipping through the muggle newspaper he eyed the first picture he could find that indicated a different location.

Holding onto his briefcase, he tucked the newspaper under his arm and thought vigorously about the picture he embedded into his mind. Not the traditional way of apparition, but it was better than nothing, most of his well known spots had become crawling with Aurors, and Merlin knows he would never show his face again in Feldcroft.

The familiar stretching, yanking and pulling through space was a sensation Sebastian never got used too, though it was necessary, the world around him blurring in quick succession until he landed not so gracefully on the hard ground, only slightly spraining his wrist from bracing his fall to the ground in a disoriented haze.

—- —-

Releasing a breath that doubled as relieving the ever building tension in her shoulders, Lucinda paced carefully around her pieces of parchment paper that played home to her scribblings and research. Surrounded by immense greenery and the fresh smell of soil and fertilizer, it was easy to call her makeshift greenhouse a home despite it being haphazardly thrown together.

Dense with plants made the medium sized shack rather difficult to navigate, practically making it a maze that only she knew how to navigate and weave through.

“— forget pleasantries, this discovery is of the essence,” she muttered to herself, a hand cupping her chin while she paced in deep thought while her heart raced. She may have looked crazed if anyone didn’t know better, her flaming red hair stuck out in numerous directions despite an attempt on slicking the hair back into a neat bun. Not to mention the soil that embedded itself in her clothes from the hours spent potting and tending to her plants. The dirt that stuck beneath her fingernails was quite unbecoming for a woman in this age, though she lacked the ability to care.

Perhaps, she considered having some time to change and clean herself up —

Her head snapped up immediately to the sound of unmistakably a pile of her empty ceramic pots shattering, prompting her quickly from her daze and over to the commotion. Lucinda squeezed through a small crevice of stacked boxes that her Ivy had unceremoniously entangled itself with and ducked under the wisteria canopy that she had cultivated from a small pot she had been given in her travels.

By the entrance, her eyes set upon the shattered pots and the person who seemed to be the culprit, hunched over and rigid as if he had accidentally bumped into the wall.

At the sound of her footsteps, he shot up straight, only to whack his head on one of her hanging baskets that she recently repotted with her beloved Monstera.

“I’m — Apologies.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his head that impacted her plant. Only slightly disoriented, he had no intention of ending up here, he was merely just trying to go somewhere else and away. His eyes finally focused on the woman before him, nearly having to do a double take given her appearance but once he made clear it was in-fact, not, a former Professor of his he had to admit that if he had to come across anyone this evening, he was glad he came across quite the beautiful young woman.

Though time was of the essence for Lucinda and she could easily clean the mess up after her research was to be formally addressed, so much so she completely overlooked the disheveled appearance of her new freckled companion.

“Brilliant! The academy sent you, a pleasure to meet you.” She rushed over to him, taking his hand and shaking it rather firmly and overenthusiastically. He opened his mouth to speak but she had one surprising grip on her as she took his wrist and pulled him further into the Greenhouse, he barely had a moment to set his briefcase down. “When I tell you I nearly threw a fit when I found this. Absolutely astounding discovery this one is! I was on one of my expeditions to harvest some Downy Hemp Nettle in Scotland when I came across this plant I had never seen before.”

Her voice was high with excitement as she finally let go of the man's wrist and presented him with her latest find on the table. “I’ve been studying it for weeks. I think it must be some distant relative to our well-known flytrap species. Entirely carnivorous but this one has a far bigger appetite than flies and insects. It nearly took my hand off when I fed it some dead rats.” She laughed, brushing off the ordeal and the memory of last week as if she didn’t fear for her life for but a moment.

Once again, the man opened his mouth to speak but she dismissed him as if she was aware of what he was going to say, “right! You’re right, we can’t just base this discovery off one, which is precisely why I intend to traverse the rest of Europe and look for similar plants, harvest their seeds and bring them back for more research… But I need the Academy’s approval first.”

There was a brief pause, the man hesitantly opening his mouth in case she were to interrupt him once again, but she politely stood in front of him and kept her hands clasped together while she awaited eagerly for a response.

“I am terribly sorry but you must have me mistaken, I didn’t mean to intrude… I sort of just… arrived here.” He admitted, though he wasn’t exactly lying, he did quite literally appear out of thin air only moments before.

The expression on her face drops slightly, before her eyes narrowed, “so you just wandered in here? Did Oxford put you up to this?” Her tone was accusatory which had taken him completely off guard, she bawled her hands into fists and looked down at her feet, gritting her teeth, “They’re always trying to steal my research — those bumbling fools.”

“No, no. Wouldn’t dream of it. But I will be on my way.” He put his hands up in defense, not wanting to bother the poor woman any longer than he had just by appearing. The last thing he wanted was to be caught up in Muggle business, even if said muggle seemed to have found herself quite the dangerous magical plant.

She pointed a finger at him, “now hold on a moment, how exactly did you even come about this place? I can’t just let you leave, what if you tell every Tom, Dick and Harry that I'm on the brink of groundbreaking research?”

Hands still in the air, as if it would save him from being absolutely brutalized by the woman who was incredibly passionate about her work it seemed. “I won’t tell a soul, you have my word — I was just around, found this place and I promise that is it.”

Physically she relaxed, dropped her hands to her side and relented. Lucinda was beyond paranoid, questioning every prying eye that stumbled into her greenhouse or sported a friendly chat with her at the pub. It was taking over her life, convinced most people were out to get her and steal her hard earned research. Hard enough as it was being a Botanist and trying to get people to take her seriously, it was even more difficult to be taken seriously as a Woman and a botanist.

Seeing how deflated she was made insurmountable guilt bubble within his stomach, offering her a polite smile, “should you find yourself in need of a name for that -,” he pointed over to the plant he was familiar with, “- might I suggest Venomous Tentacular.” It was wrong of him to help her, let alone wrong of him to out the poor plants real name to a Muggle no less. Yet, he felt compelled to do so anyway. The woman had kind eyes and an unmistakable amount of determination which he could both recognise and admire.

She looked at him dumbfounded, eyebrows knitting together as she glanced back over her parchment of scribblings and notes, “how did you know it produced Venom?” Her eyes narrowed in curiosity, first this man had simply appeared who wasn’t at all here on behalf of the academy and not only is not shocked at her find but knows about an aspect of the plant that took her days to figure out.

He blew out a breath that indicated he seemed to have been caught red-handed, there was no way he could simply charm his way out of this one. “I— well I actually didn’t, it just… Looks… like it’s venomous.”

Once again, her piercing gaze remained on him as she tried her best to read between the lines in search of a lie or anything sinister beneath his handsome allure. Though his words seemed to be deceitful, she couldn’t deny that his brown eyes were one of sincerity and seemingly trustworthy. If she had any hope in making a name for herself, she needed to begin trusting people - arguably not random men who found their way into her greenhouse.

As the silence grew she opened her mouth to wave off the stranger, only interrupted by yet another chime of shattering ceramic pots catching her attention. She sighed, bowing her head in frustration, bringing a hand to her face and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You should really move those pots,” he offered, an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Stay here.” She firmly instructed, disappearing amongst the clutter toward the location of the freshly shattered pots.

He thought about leaving the same way he arrived, though something within him compelled him to stay. Most notably how on earth had a muggle come across a Venomous Tentacluar and survived, let alone handle it to a secondary location without angering it. Most perplexing indeed. Never had he seen a domesticated magical plant at the hands of a muggle seem so… well, content.

It wasn’t wise of him to stick around for too long, lest he be found and that wasn’t particularly ideal for his current situation. But for the meantime he remained, sighing to himself and placing his hands in his pockets idly, making note of the myriad of plants surrounding him, reminding him of just how rubbish he was with plants. No amount of book reading on caring for plants, ever could prepare him for actually doing so. It was as if the plants themselves could detect he was rotten before he even had the chance to see that side of him come to fruition.

Two voices ripped him from his thoughts, as he was joined once again by the ever fascinating muggle and another who he didn’t care to recognise.

“—This is my… companion.” She gestured to Sebastian, lying coming as second nature to her and seeming to catch him completely off guard which gave him little time to actually react but he recovered swiftly. Were all muggles this quick?

“Sebastian,” he reached out a hand to shake the older fellow's hand firmly.

Lucinda wasn’t entirely sure why she decided the best course of action was to lie to the Academy representative, she figured it would be harder to explain how and most importantly why there was a stranger in her greenhouse to an academic scholar. She also saw this as an opportunity to seize the moment, seeing him as a ticket to being taken seriously considering he was a man after all.

Her spiel wasn’t too dissimilar to the one she had addressed to Sebastian, though she answered many of the questions succinctly and concisely before announcing she would be embarking on an expedition to see similar kinds of species across continental Europe. This of course needed approval of the academy to fund such an extensive trip but the representative was rather enamored by her find.

Before long, the two of them remained alone in the greenhouse once more, both having burning questions for the other respectively.

“Don’t suppose you have an explanation for that little lie, would you?” He questioned, leaning up against her work station with arms folded, this very position reminded him instantly of how many Professors had done the same when reprimanding him in school, it felt rather like he was scolding her but he was more or less impressed with her improvisation given the degree she cared for her research.

She was scribbling notes on paper, not at all giving the man a single glance, “of course I do, my reputation is already muddied being a Woman and I’d find it rather difficult to explain how a complete stranger stumbled across my greenhouse… Seems all in all a bit like a farce if you ask me.”

There was absolutely no denying that explanation, far be it for Sebastian to question simple logic, though it was troublesome that equality was one of the bigger reasons she was struggling to make strides. “Of course, makes perfect sense to me.” He reasoned, though his tone always simmering with that telltale sign of sarcasm made her look up from her scribblings and stare at him.

“You know, Sebastian, I’m still not entirely certain I can trust you.” Her hazel eyes narrowed at him. Sure he might have had a bespoke aura that gave her the impression he was trustworthy but she also wasn’t sure what to make of his attitude.

The pointed look on her face, the narrowed eyes but despite that they were still kind eyes rang all too familiar to him. She reminded him much of Professor Garlick. And it wasn’t only the appearance, but perhaps he may be a tad too disingenuous thinking that most red heads all looked the same.

“Trusting me in my experience has led to disappointment, so I wouldn’t if I were you.” He intended on making light of his shortcomings, but instead sounded rather bitter about his past, not that he really had the right to have fond memories, it was after all his own fault for the reason he lives like he does now.

She seemed rather stumped at the bluntness, matched with the bitter expression that contorted onto his face but she hardly missed the sadness in his eyes. It may appear she had found a kindred spirit, someone hard done by and that alone was enough to get her trust albeit brash and idiotic of her to come to a decision so quickly. She outstretched her hand, prompting him to shake it properly this time now that her nerves were long gone, “well then, we have a lot more in common.. Lucinda Cornwall, Botanist - but you can call me Luce.”

Hesitantly, he took her hand, not entirely believing the night he had. Though he briefly recalls almost similarly one of the times he befriended an old muggle couple just outside Birmingham. He owed those two more than they would ever know, though he was positive once the ministry got their hands on the two they had their memories altered. Not a fate he would wish upon his newfound lady friend. It was better he distanced himself entirely, if not completely disengaged from her once the night was over.

“Say Luce, you wouldn’t happen to know of any boarding rooms nearby?” He posed the question, already knowing the answer given the time of night it was, but there was no harm in asking, especially if she was local. It was late and had been a dreadfully long day for him especially apparating last minute like he did, his body ached and his eyelids began to sting with the overwhelming need to rest.

Lucinda paused momentarily, having signed off some last minute notes to remind herself of what to do on the morrow when morning broke. He had half a mind to repeat himself thinking she hadn’t heard him when she stopped scribbling and drifted her eyes to the ceiling in thought, “Eltham street, they have some boarding rooms for travelers but they won’t take anyone this late, no matter how desperate you are — Where exactly are you from again?”

“I never mentioned it.” He cleared his throat, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Right…” Her head had been tilted down at her notes but he caught her looking at him through her lashes in-between note taking, “I don’t normally offer strange men a room, but if you need somewhere tonight I have a couch…” She ceased note taking and fully had her eyes on him now, sizing him up. He was stocky and built, broad across the shoulders and had quite a few inches on her. Though his kind eyes held nothing sinister that piqued her danger radar it was always best to be sure, “and I sleep with a cleaver so don’t try anything.”

The slightest chuckle erupted from his lips and subsequently strangled in his throat when he realized she wasn’t joking. No, of course she wasn’t. Why would she joke about such a thing? “That is kind of you, I will be out of your hair by the morning.”

She curtly nodded, pushing off the unstable wall of boxes she had leaned against. Her heartbeat was rapidly beating, partly out of fear that she had just invited a gentleman over that she barely knew, on top of that she was certain that the only reason the academy humoured her this evening was because Sebastian was present. She couldn’t let him get too far away, what if she needed him just to stand there and be… Well, be a man for her.

[elizaellwrites]

Legacy of the Fallen- Chapter 11

Prologue

Chapter 1

Last Chapter

Table of Contents

Hecathian

It is with great sorrow and regret that I write this account today. I am a survivor of my people that have been brutally massacred, and I have no way of knowing how many of us are left. I am not sure if this will ever be read, but I am writing on behalf of myself, my children, and any other Hecathian survivor that has also made their way to Earth.

It was only a few days ago that we were overrun, driven from our homes by beings that would come from your tales of myth here. We come as refugees, seeking to hide in plain sight among you who are left alone by those you are unaware of. We mean you no harm, as we have no quarrel with any of your governments. Our home is presumably destroyed, millions of our people slaughtered before our eyes while we failed to defend ourselves.

We are a people not easily understood, and as I have been acquainted with a human before now, I have witnessed the tendency to be wary of the unknowns of a new people. I will not lie; we are a race that has a deep history of conflict and pain. We are rooted in what some of you would consider barbaric, with weapons of blades and close combat. The abilities we possess are mystic and untrustworthy, reminiscent of witchcraft from your own history. These, however, are characteristics of our people that do not cover all we find important.

We will not attack you or your peoples because it would be dishonorable to do so. In your allowance of our residing here, assisting knowingly or unknowingly in our ability to survive and persevere through the darkest days of our history, you maintain allyship with our cause. Your presence, your reputation of persevering through the worst times in your own right, as well as your own violence and cruelty to your own people throughout your history, keep many of our enemies away.

Our people are as rich in culture as those spread across your world. We have different beliefs, languages, and traditions, and we may vary in how we view what has happened, and I hope that this tragedy is not the death of our people. I pray that there are more of us out there. Our homeland of Ariya is a world much like your own, with forests, plains, mountains, deserts, and oceans stretching wide. The sky is more violet there than here, and our sister planet, Brakkoam watches over the eastern sky under which was my home territory. I long to return, but I fear what I may find if I do so, and whether our enemies linger is a question I do not want to be answered.

My children are young, the elder understands what has happened and is now broken, and I can only try my best to support him. I am alone. I have lost my family, my found family, my home, my beloved, my outlook, and everything but my two children. They might never see our home and may never know anything about our people and our way of life. We have nowhere to stay, and it has only been my education in this language that has saved me from having no way of communicating with anyone around me. I fear for anyone else who may have made it out.

My plea for you, humans, is for the gift of your continued graciousness and indifference. We are not a people that easily ask for assistance, we take pride in our accomplishments and believe it is shameful to be unable to sustain ourselves, but we have seen the worst and are looking for better. We are not looking for the violence we have just escaped, and we do not intend to interfere with your ways. We only wish to shelter and continue our own traditions among ourselves, and maybe one day we can return to our home.

My thanks, and the gratitude from all Hecathian survivors have been sent the way of anyone who may come across this account. May we rebuild from that which has crippled us, and may we be able to continue finding shelter with your people.

Etesha Roitae

Of the Royal Guard of Caldesaria

____________________________

Rachel had composed herself.

Mainly.

Kind of.

She was still freaking out, but she was pretty sure it had gotten to the point of short-circuiting her full freak-out function. Which had never happened before, but that was okay… right?

Now they were seated in a surprisingly normal-looking dining room just off a very average kitchen at the back of a surprisingly grand stone building. From the outside, it looked smaller than it was, but as soon as they walked through the door, the tall atrium and wooden paneling immediately made her feel small and completely out of place.

The room was thick with awkward silence as the four teens took turns glancing around the table. Paper could have sliced the air between the newcomers and their welcome party.

“So…”

Rachel’s eyes shot to Ryan as his drawn-out syllable filled the room. His hands came up to tap on the table, accompanied by a tight smile on his face.

“This isn’t usually how it goes, but welcome to our team home.” He began, his silver eyes glimmering with more energy than Rachel could even imagine right now. “We’re a fun crew and staying with us will be full of adventure and an actually fun learning experience, or… you could sign yourself up to be boring and live in the dorms with the others who were raised as humans and had their parents turn their backs on them.”

Eleanor’s face dropped beside him, her wide green eyes a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. “Not helping,” she blinked at him. She sighed and folded her arms on the table. “We,” she gestured to herself and Ryan. “Are part of the Observance program, along with Cameron, Elaine, and Jacob. We are part of our defense system in case the academy is ever under attack or something similar.”

Rachel was pretty sure that was supposed to surprise them, but it made a shocking amount of sense.

“We also have a lot of fun,” Ryan nodded.

She felt Ben shift beside her, his comforting presence only a slight help. “How are you doing this so young?”

“Good question,” Ryan chirped. “All the adults are dead.”

Silence.

“Not,” Eleanor shot him another look. “All of them.” She gritted her teeth, her face screaming for the boy to shut up. She quickly softened with a heavy sigh, her gaze lowering. “I joined the observance last year, as soon I could,” she started instead. “There aren’t many left, and those that are,” she shook her head, biting her lip. “They have fought for so long, and most came here so they didn’t have to anymore.”

Rachel nodded absentmindedly; her mind only half-focusing on the conversation.

“The only one of us old enough to remember what happened is Cameron, but he won’t talk about it.” Ryan was almost alarmingly nonchalant about everything. “None of us have both parents,” a hint of sorrow appeared. “We don’t know how many people survived the attack, but those who went back to the homeland didn’t return the same if they came back at all.”

She thought of her mom, thoughts leaping to the absence of her biological father. She had always assumed that he had died in an accident or from illness, but now… she didn’t want to picture what could have happened to him. She suddenly understood why her mom might have wanted to forget and move on.

“So, in coming to the academy, you can either study under our wing, or you can be boring,” Ryan looked at them expectantly. “You don’t need to decide right away, but until you’ve decided, you’re going to stay with us anyway.” He broke into a grin. “We have your rooms ready upstairs.”

Rachel exchanged a glance with Ben who looked just as startled as she did.

“House rules: no killing, no maiming, and injuries have to be within my healing capabilities. Most of us are quiet before eleven because Cameron needs his study time, and the training room is open to anyone as long as you don’t kill yourself in the process. Okay?” He grinned and clapped his hands. “Great!”

Rachel raised her eyebrows, suddenly lost.

“Oh, and before I forget,” he braced his hands on the table. “Rachel, you can summon and control fire, and lucky for you, Ben, you can control water. Perfect, right?” He exclaimed. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Ryan left them frozen, sitting at the table, even Eleanor staring blankly ahead.

Rachel couldn’t help the mutter that escaped her lips.

“What the-“

____________________________

Elaine stared at the blank gray stone wall of the healing center across from her, the line of stripped cots and empty hall allowing for each sound to echo up to the arched roof high above them. Khalea, the academy’s lead healer, had long moved on to continue Allenesaia’s healing process across the room. Now, Jacob was laying, healed but unconscious, in the cot beside her. He had been changed from his tattered clothes into the plain, clean garments for patients, but the streaks of mud and blood still visible on his arms and face told of his prior injuries. Their father had briefly come, standing at the foot of Jacob’s cot for only a minute before leaving without a word. The room had darkened since then, the sun setting as night slowly overtook the academy.

It wasn’t the first time that Jacob had ended up in the healing center, not even the first for more serious injuries. She remembered vividly how she had cut a deep stripe across his chest and shoulder during a particularly intense practice session, him returning a blow into her thigh in retribution. They had both spent the afternoon glaring at each other from opposite cots, listening to their mom chiding them about the importance of restraint.

Her absence was most glaring now, with Elaine sitting on vigil as her mom had always done instead. She didn’t know why she was still there, but she supposed it was because she didn’t want Jacob to wake up and find an empty chair waiting for him.

When she had seen him fall to the ground earlier, all she could think about was how she couldn’t lose him too. With their mom gone, he was the only one she could count on to be there. Her relationship with their father had been the most distant and dismissive out of the three of them, him never showing any interest in her growth and achievement. Amber would talk to her, but since distancing herself from their family, it was further between and often in ways that made her feel like her sister was ashamed to be seen with her.

Not having Jacob around had felt wrong, as they had been together since birth. It was only a few months after he had joined the observances that she had joined as well. He was back now, but she knew that it wouldn’t be the same as before. Roselle’s death had changed him, she had seen it before he left, and she could see it even in the short time before he had been hurt. With their mom gone too, she feared what it meant.

She opened her hand that had been curled in her lap, revealing the golden rod she had picked up from beside him. It didn’t look significant in any way, just a plain golden stick with only a single red ruby on one end preventing it from being a featureless cylinder.

How something so seemingly insignificant could be the legendary sword of Sarodekor, the blade of their kings and queens since Lietasae’s rule over five hundred years before, she couldn’t imagine. How Jacob had managed to get it into his possession in a human middle school was an even greater question, especially when it was rumored to be lost with the death of their last king, Oravinkas.

Her eyes wandered over to the blonde on the far side of the room, the girl limp and pale under the thin sheet covering her. Then again, with her in the picture of this disaster, it wouldn’t be inconceivable for other bizarre occurrences to coincide with Jacob’s adventure. She pictured the blade it had appeared as in her mind’s eye, the golden blade almost radiating with power. She could almost feel that same power in the small metal object, humming, dormant in her hands.

She looked up as multiple sets of footsteps in the main hall approached the heavy doors, hushed voices echoing around in the large entry of the council building as they stopped directly outside. One of the voices, the low feminine voice, was familiar, and most definitely belonged to her sister. The other was a man, his tone rushed in urgency.

It was only a second more before the door was pulled open, revealing the man in question. He looked inconspicuous at first glance, a typical rugged middle-aged man. As he rushed over to the only other patient present in the center though, Elaine noticed his clear resemblance to Kesritae and especially to her father Jisuph. This was Seniar Ocoltha, the war hero of the homeland and rightful heir to the throne of Ariya.

Elaine felt her heart speed up as Seniar moved to his daughter, brushing past Khalea as the woman moved to allow him room. Amber moved slower but approached Jacob’s cot with a cautious look playing on her face. Her dark brown eyes flicked between Elaine and Jacob, her lips pursing in clear uncertainty.

“He’s going to be okay,” Elaine told her with a slight edge in her tone.

“I wanted to know if you had time to talk soon,” Amber said, not acknowledging what she had said.

“Why?” Elaine stared up at her with a blank expression.

“Because,” Amber looked taken aback. “I… I want to talk to you.” Her gaze moved to Jacob again, a hint of distaste in her expression as her eyebrow curled up. “Please,” she angled back at Elaine, lips tight.

Elaine looked over at their brother, the old, darkened scar on his neck leaping out as a reminder of when he and Amber had last ‘spoken’. It was a mark that spoke of a disagreement that led to Amber turning her back on the family, the contents of which she had never been told and probably would never be.

“Think about it,” Amber’s voice was strained. “Let me know,” she turned to leave.

“Adara,” Elaine called lowly after her, using her true name. “Eyn,” she spoke the word in their mother’s native language. Soon.

Amber nodded and continued out of the healing center. Elaine turned her focus back to Seniar, her fingers brushing over warmed metal. The hero was perched on the edge of the cot, murmuring something quietly to the unconscious girl as he held her hand tightly in his own.

Elaine felt grief twisting in her gut, looking away. She tightened her fingers back around the rod, the sting of the hard material against her skin grounding her to reality. Jacob would wake up soon, but neither of them would have a parent that cared about them like that again.

She didn’t doubt that their father had heard about what happened by now. It was only a matter of when he decided the axe was going to fall. As upset as she was with Jacob, she was worried about what was waiting for him once he was awake. No one had ever said the headmaster was a lenient man, and she knew that this blunder was going to fall back onto Jacob.

Despite being their father’s favorite child, she knew Jacob was far from coddled. Haunting memories of sneaking a peak at their secret, late-night practices had shown her how Jacob may have had it worse than both her and Amber. It was unclear how Jacob had never shown up the next day with any sign of the beatings he received. What it did explain was how Jacob’s style had slowly changed from nimble speed to becoming brutally aggressive as those practices began to influence him.

Truly, Jacob had begun to change then. Losing Roselle was only the last straw. Now, Elaine didn’t know her brother at all, and now she had to decide if she wanted to, or if she needed to move on.

Just like Amber.

____________________________

Jol regretted the moment he had agreed for the Hecathian to return the moment he had said it. The man made him dig his claws into the ground, he was everything Jol hated about Hecathians, yet he was waiting for him now as darkness began to fall around him.

There was a very real possibility that the man was going to kill him now that he had what he wanted. He could almost feel the bronze daggers he had threatened him with across his throat. Maybe one would be buried between his eyes.

He was prey waiting to be caught, yet he still stood there.

It wasn’t long before the soft patter of a pebble alerted him to the man’s presence. Jol turned to find him closer than he wanted him to be.

“I have to admit,” the man’s voice held a humorous undercurrent to it. “I wanted to give you the credit for not being stupid enough to meet me alone, but I see I can’t even do that.”

Jol held down his bristle, reminding himself why he was there. “Since you didn’t come here to kill me,” he began. “I want to know why you’ve decided to meet me.”

The man was still for a second before shrugging, crossing his arms. “Call it curiosity,” his dark green eyes sparked. “What would you be wanting from me that you don’t want your precious queen knowing about?”

“Maybe I’m here on her behalf,” Jol defended.

The Hecathian gave him a doubtful look, and though most of his face was covered, Jol felt like there was almost disappointment there. “I know you’re a little dim, but surely you don’t expect me to be that idiotic,” he scoffed, raising his chin. “Now tell me why I’m here, daemon.”

Jol ignored the name, pulling out the large vial he had managed to grab earlier. “You know where the academy is.” He stated.

“Obviously,” the man raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed.

“I want you to bring this there,” he held out the vial. Inside, the darkened liquid glinted in what little light still showed over the land.

“What is it?” The man grabbed it cautiously, his eyes not leaving Jol.

“Atonement.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Open it when you go there, it will do the rest by itself.” Jol watched as the man looked at the vial in his hands.

“And what do I gain?” The man’s voice was an edged sword.

“Consider this your payment to me for being the messenger to Rinoas,” Jol told him. “And if that’s not enough, it would be helpful for you to have a place to go if word of your treachery makes it back to the ears of your headmaster.”

“I don’t plan on that,” the man’s eyes flared with something Jol couldn’t identify. “However, I suppose it is an offer I’ll consider. I also have to wonder about the power you seem to think you have.”

“Just take it,” Jol spat, gritting his fangs. The man was getting on his nerves, his claws itching to tear into him where he stood.

“Consider my debt to you paid, daemon,” the man’s eyes were dark, thoughtful. It made the Gisrulat uneasy, but he didn’t speak.

He was left in darkness as his foe leaped away, presumably to never be seen by him again.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @hxad-ovxr-hxart, @the-printed-words, @frostedlemonwriter, @on-noon, @my-cursed-prince, @thesorcererspen, and @avocado-frog. If you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

[korereapers]

Title: Fated Encounters

Rating: T?

Fandom: Original, Dungeons and Dragons

Characters: Ohmrom von Allmen, Kore of the Eternal Forest. Background characters (Velia, Barkilara, Minthe)

Relationships: This is not a shippy fic, woa!

AO3

Kore sighs, her legs cramping a little after the long walk.

The Citadel is not too big, but it's always busy, so incredibly noisy that her ears hurt after years of having lived in the Eternal Forest. A perfect place to bury oneself among people, to hide oneself in plain sight. A tree in a forest, she guesses. Even someone like her doesn't attract anyone's attention, everyone being so used to each and every kind of being.

A tiefling is old news, apparently, when there's an anthropomorphic moth going around. Not that she is anyone to judge.

But she has no time to overthink. Thinking too much usually leaves her drained, and she has a tendency to remember what she shouldn't, and to dwell on it. Today, she is on a mission, she cannot afford to forget that. She cannot allow herself, the sounds and smells making it easy to lose herself to it all, her mind going back and forth towards her memories.

Minthe would like it here. She would really love it here. She should have been the one to represent the elves from the Eternal Forest, not her. A paladin of the forest, not just a cleric of death.

Kore keeps walking, trying to ignore her thoughts. It never really works.

The man she is supposed to meet is… apparently very conventional. The typical male human that would come to mind. The Citadel is also full of these, so she has to ask around a little. Trying to discern exactly which human she is looking for.

Chestnut hair, amber eyes. A beard that is a little bit too uneven, dark bags under his eyes, a perpetually worried expression. A blue armor, with a golden symbol on his shield.

Some people grimace when she describes him. A faint discomfort in their features that Kore doesn't quite understand. She was told the man was helpful, and nice enough. Visibly anxious, but genuinely sweet.

She is told that he can easily be found, both at the biggest pub in town, or at one of the different altars in the middle of the city. He is a man of faith, after all. Faith in both his god, and the mystical power of alcohol, apparently.

Kore is not a stranger to either of those. She may not be a heavy drinker, but running from your problems is an issue she knows well. They always seem to catch her, dragging her along, but she embraces the feeling eagerly. It's her fault after all. She wasn't there when her people needed her. When Minthe needed her.

It's only a matter of time before everyone leaves and she is alone. Shouldn't it have to be like that from the very beginning?

Dark eyes without pupils blink slowly, because she is on the verge of tears, and she cannot afford it. It makes her mad, really, how fucking useless and weak she feels.

She starts looking by the local pub, and the noise makes her tense immediately. One would have to be terribly drunk to zone out from the high decibels, so she takes a quick look and leaves.

She looks down to a piece of paper, the man's symbol drawn in it, an oval that has been broken and opened up. An omega , as someone from her people had called it. She recognizes the symbol, but she guesses it comes from a language she doesn't understand.

Maybe if he looks for the symbol on the many altars…

A very nice lady approaches her, luckily enough. She has six arms, and wings, and Kore mistakes her for a butterfly at first, but she realizes that the woman is, in fact, a moth lady. She reminds her of her own mother, genuinely nice and helpful, a little bit too nice for a place like this.

When Kore asks about the man she is looking for, the moth woman perks up a little, her wings buzzing a little. It's almost cute, in a way.

"Oh, I know him. I have seen him around, actually," she smiles awkwardly, pointing to one particular direction with one of her limbs. "He seemed particularly gloomy today. No way you'll miss his anxious energy."

Okay, that's weird. But her people say he is a man that can be trusted, and that's all that Kore needs. For now.

Indeed, the moth lady is right. She finds an altar with a very visible omega in one of those improvised temples, and in front of it, there is a human kneeling. His hair is a little dirty, eyes lost somewhere, as if he were having a very deep and intense talk with himself. He is not small by any means, bigger than any elf she has seen, broad shoulders and strong body, but he looks tiny like that, as if trying not to attract attention to himself, and failing miserably.

She knows a haunted person when she sees one.

Her staff gently hits the ground, trying to get his attention without disrupting him too badly. She actually sees fear on his features, oddly defensive for a man that is almost twice her size. As if he had seen a ghost. She realizes then that his armor is not very well kept, rust and blood making it look older than it probably is. The kind of dirt that never goes away no matter how much you try to get rid of it.

What makes her feel nervous are, in fact, his eyes. He does seem… stressed, no matter how much he tries to smile, a charming smile that is too shy and awkward to belong to a warrior like that. His eyes, his eyes feel strange when they are on her, because even if they are friendly, she feels… observed. Not in a creepy way, just… seen.

"Ah, sorry, did you want to pray, too?" He asks, and she realizes that his knees are trembling. It reminds her of herself, of when Minthe died, how she kept asking her lady Wee-jas for guidance, feeling guilty of even having the thought of having her wife back.

Death is nothing but life's counterpart, after all. A part of the cycle. That thought has never been enough to ease her sadness.

"I was looking for you, actually," she answers, and immediately feels the air tensing, anxiety on his features.

He smells of blood and sweat, and the presence she feels behind his eyes becomes even stronger. Both burning and chilling at the same time.

"What… did I… did I do something wrong?"

Spineless, and yet so dangerous. She can see indentations on his armor and shield, hits that should have killed almost anyone, and yet this man is still alive and breathing.

So she does the only rational thing.

"Are you stupid? Who would even think something like that? I come from the Eternal Forest, I'm your freaking contact. For the gods' sake"

The man blinks, slowly. Like a big puppy, his expression so guilty it makes her recoil from the emotional whiplash.

"Ah… sorry. Oh, I'm sorry, excuse me for my rudeness, I didn't expect-"

Kore raises her eyebrows, her skin even pinker in anger.

"Yeah, of course. You expected an elf. You get me, though. Deal with it."

He gulps, visibly intimidated by a woman that can barely reach his chin with her horns.

When he speaks again, her eyes widen, because she recognizes the language, but it's definitely not Common.

"I swear. I apologize. I harbor no kind of hatred towards your kind. You just… reminded me of someone I used to know."

That's in Infernal. A perfect Infernal, if she is being honest with herself. Humans don't usually know Infernal, even less such a pious man.

"What the hell," she states plainly, in Common, a little bit calmer when he actually chuckles, and behind all of that stressed energy, behind the sweat and the blood, he is actually kind of cute. 

She almost smiles at him, his aura suddenly devoid of any kind of threat. There is still something she cannot place, the feeling that they are not alone, but she doesn't really see anything out of place.

"It's a long story. A pretty boring one, too," he excuses himself, and Kore cannot really tell if he is lying. "But yeah! You seem to be a little tired from the trip. Do you mind if we chat while we grab some beer?"

Kore blinks at him, judging him silently. The man scratches the back of his neck, his smile nervous.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes too darn much. "Tea, then? And cookies?"

Kore does smile a little at that, her long eyelashes framing her pitch black eyes, her smile genuine, the kind that reaches her whole face.

The guy is just trying so hard to be nice.

"Just, don't think anything weird of it. I like women."

The human blinks at that.

"Ah, that's good. I like men."

Kore does let out a chuckle at that, and the man just smiles, a friendly smile that makes her forget about his whole unsettling aura. She will dig into that sooner or later.

He offers her his arm, such an old fashioned and chivalrous gesture it makes her roll her eyes.

"Care to join me, then? I'll answer all of your questions. Or most of them. You know."

Kore doesn't really know, to be honest.

"I'm good, I can walk by myself. But also, you haven't told me your name."

The man blinks, his face a little red from embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm so stupid. Sorry. It's Ohmrom," he pauses, as if giving it a thought. "Von Allmen. Ohmrom von Allmen."

He is not lying, and yet… there is something unsaid about that name. Kore shrugs. She wants to know if she can fully trust the guy, but she doesn't really give a flying fuck about his personal issues.

"Kore. Of the Eternal Forest."

Ohmrom's smile is genuinely friendly, and it reaches his eyes, but she feels something subtle behind them, a whisper, something she cannot quite reach. Something that doesn't fit a man who is, by all means, not just pretending to be nice to her.

"Nice to meet you, Kore. Something tells me you're going to love it here."

Kore doubts that, but she cannot really say no to tea and cookies, can she?

"We'll see… Now, about that tea…"

[justjessame]

Light Through the Darkness: Chapter 19

Mystic Falls, VA September 28, 1864~Late evening

They'd left Abigail's bedside after an hours long vigil that hadn't changed her state. Although Damon had seen a few more tears escape, he hadn't attempted to touch her hand again. He wouldn't chance his brother's wrath, not until he knew he could do something to fix the mess they'd created.

While Stefan left to create another bonfire with his dinner scraps, Damon considered who he knew that could shed any light on Abigail's current state. The only person remotely knowledgeable about the supernatural still available in Mystic Falls, who did not want Damon and his brother dead on sight, would be Emily Bennett. Unfortunately, he wasn't completely sure where she would have headed after giving Stefan and him their daylight rings.

Contemplating the options of a witch connected to a known vampire, he realized hiding in plain site was probably her best option. He went into what was once his father's office, and was now his brother's room of revenge. Stefan kept a list of the Founders' that he'd exacted vengeance upon. Damon theorized that the family not on the list was probably protected by Emily. A witch with things to hide, could hide entire families.

He found Stefan's list and fought down his stomach's lurching. Scanning the names, he found one family missing. Neither crossed out, nor waiting to be. And in that, he knew where Emily was.

Damon decided to wait until midnight to go to the house in search of Emily. Stefan would be preoccupied with three or four dinner companions, after having crossed a name or two off his list. That would give him time to have a nice conversation with Emily, unhurried and without fear of being spied upon.

As he left their house, Stefan offered him a young lady who bore a disturbing resemblance to Abigail for a drink. Damon glared at his brother before he could stop himself. Did he even realize how disturbed he was? Did he think it was amusing? Or was it a test? His eyes locked on to his brother's and he realized the latter was most likely true.

Smirking with the irritation of an older brother being interrupted from his night out, Damon took the girl in his arms and tried to forget what made her look like Abigail. Focus, he told himself, on what wasn't. As he leaned in to drink, his new stronger senses took over and cataloged all the differences. The hair was a shade darker, her scent was wrong, her eyes more blue than green, and she was inches taller. He drank sparingly, enough to make Stefan happy, but not enough to kill the girl.

Handing her back, and wiping his mouth on his handkerchief, he moved toward the door. "Thank you, brother." He said, trying to keep his tone light. "Now I can be focused while I hunt for a more fulfilling meal."

"Why leave, brother?" Stefan taunted, pulling the poor exchange for Abigail firmly against his chest. "I brought more than enough to share." He leaned toward the girl and began to bite.

"I have plans," Damon said, tearing his eyes away, trying to get the image out of his head. "I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

He left then, trying to forget the sound of the girl crying as his brother tore at her throat, because of all the ways she was different from Abigail, that was the way they were most similar. Their voices, she hadn't spoke when he bit her, but as he walked out of the front door, she was begging Stefan to make the pain stop. To let her die. And in that voice, he heard Abigail.

Outside the house that Emily had taken refuge, Damon waited. Although midnight, he knew that the Bennett witch kept her own hours. As he watched, she exited the back door and made her way across the lawns, he followed keeping his distance until they were away from the lights of the house. Once that only a sliver of moon lit them, he let her know for certain he was behind her.

She nodded and led him to a copse of trees just off the road nearest the house where she was staying. Inside the circle, he waited as she whispered an incantation, knowing that she was hiding them from prying eyes.

"Hello, Emily." He said, when she finished. Her head tilt was the only answer he received, so he continued. "I assume you know about Stefan's current destructive path." When she again said nothing, he kept going. "Abigail is at the house as well."

"Abigail?" She whispered, confused. "She was supposed to leave." Her brow furrowed. "Her baggage, everything is gone."

He looked down, knowing all of this mess started when Emily's mistress had moved in. "She didn't. When I killed her," his voice grew quiet, "and buried her, she decided against leaving. She had missed the coach and ship. My father and Abigail, when he found her in our family tomb, they became closer." His eyes burned thinking about how affectionate they'd seemed when they entered the house not two days before. "She was staying."

Emily sighed and shook her head in angry frustration. "The imbalance in this town, and in nature is so great already, it's creating massive chaos." She glared at Damon. "Your brother, he wants what he cannot have. She is what he cannot hope to have." She was clenching her hands so tightly that her nails were biting into the palms, and blood was beginning to rise to the surface. "Where is she now?"

Damon looked up and she could see the pain and anguish in his eyes. "In her bedroom, she hasn't been awake since my brother ripped apart our father and every slave and Sallie and created something theatrical to show his affection." He was angry and felt horrible. "It was too much for her, Emily. I felt it," he didn't understand how it worked but tried to explain the shared feelings through the touching he'd done.

Emily nodded. "Perhaps it's best Abigail stay in the state she's in," she said, still tense. "If he cannot force her to make a choice, through horrific means, then she's safe."

Damon considered it, but feared that Abigail wouldn't withstand being terrorized by her own pain and grief on repeat. "She's trapped in darkness, Emily. All she has is the memories of the last terrors she felt and experienced. How is that better?"

The witch began pacing within their circle of trees. She was trying to decide how to make Abigail's "sleep" easier. Could she create a room, much like her own bedroom, that Abigail could "live" in until Stefan could be contained? She would have to contact the ancients, and it would take a day or two fully create the spell, but she realized one more issue.

"Damon, if I could create something to replace the darkness, her body would still be at his mercy." She looked at the Salvatore in front of her and saw the dawning of fear fall over him as well. "Where would you hide her?"

Damon knew it wouldn't be simple, but keeping Abigail out of his brother's insane clutches had to be given at least a try. He was thinking even as they both began pacing, their thoughts working toward the same goal, with different parts to plan.

[brunchable]

Part II - All The Wrong Buttons || Doctor Stephen Strange x f!reader.

Word count: 3.6K

Genre: Enemies to Lovers. Adventure. Action. Young Adult.

Warning: References to Multiverse of Madness. Mild profanity.

Brief Chapter Summary: You experiment with your powers during a mystical monster attack. Stephen discovers a new hobby, which is to constantly push all of your wrong buttons.

Strictly do not: claim, repost, copy, translate my stories anywhere else

Dandelions - Part II: All The Wrong Buttons

•••

You ended up at the rooftop so that you’ll be able to see a bird’s eye view of what was happening down there. You could feel a strong extra-dimensional presence, even if you can’t see it, you don't know how but you could almost feel it's intentions. You spotted Strange landing in the middle of the street, a block away from your building.

You exhaled slowly to calm yourself while taking your heels off, your plan was to jump your way from building to building where it was safer as you figured out how to work your powers, for the third time.

“Okay, you can do this, just don’t look down.” You motivated yourself and rubbed your hands together. You sprinted towards the edge of the building to gather momentum; the dress was dragging you down a bit. But as soon as you approached the edge, you peered down and screamed, "Oh shit!" To avoid falling down, you flung your arms about and leaned backwards.

You honestly didn’t understand how that man managed to throw himself off the balcony without feeling scared.

“Oof—” You fell on your butt and decided to rip the dress shorter with your newfound strength, “Let’s try this again.” You stood up and ran back to your starting point, remembering what your mother always said to you when you felt anxious.

You began by closing your eyes and concentrating on the sensation of your heartbeat, which you continued to do until it was the only sound you could hear. Almost immediately after you were able to regain your composure, you grew conscious of your power source surrounding you. You felt the wind start to rotate clockwise around you, its rotational velocity increasing the more you allowed it in. It was as if a charge was filling you up from head to toe, causing your eyes to glow a bluish-white colour as you opened them and your hair to transform to white and danced in the air as your strength increased.

You sprinted as fast as you could while simultaneously bending your knees to leap high. Wind erupted out of your feet as you launched yourself ten metres into the air, creating a broken crater on the cement below you.

You crashed on the roof of the second building, and it's clear that you're still getting your bearings, "Ow." You grumbled under your breath as you pulled yourself to your feet and began your sprint to the next structure.

You sprinted until you reached the edge, then expelled energy from your hands and feet to propel yourself farther into the air in a twirl. You were able to feel the energy in the palms of your hands, and a little voice inside your head subconsciously instructed you to utilise that energy to conjure up air currents that were powerful enough to support your weight and elevate you.

•••

Stephen’s brows wrinkled together as he spotted a young woman who appeared to be fleeing from something he couldn't see. She was desperately looking for somewhere to hide. The young woman ended up boarding an empty bus, which immediately began to deform, and the windows shattered as it rose into the air, giving the impression that it was being lifted into the air by an unseen force.

Stephen opened the Eye of Agamotto by first crossing his hands in front of it to activate the opening ritual. He then flicked his wrist to perform the magic that revealed the creature that was hidden in plain sight. People screamed in terror as a gigantic one-eyed octopus monster was unveiled with its tentacles wrapped around the bus.

Strange was able to deconstruct the bus into bits with a simple motion of his hands, which allowed him to locate the girl who was clinging to a pole. After being startled by what Strange had done, the creature took a step back, but as soon as it saw the girl, one of its tentacles made a grab for her. In an effort to stop the monster from capturing the girl, Stephen slashed his palm across the monster's tentacles in a diagonal motion. As one of its limbs touched the ground, it let out a painful cry as the pupils in its eyes constricted. At the same time, the pole came undone, causing the kid to lose her grip and fall.

Stephen grunted as he threw his cloak towards her as hard as he could.

‘What the fuc-’, You saw the creature from a distance, and the kid was flailing her arms, screaming as she fell to the ground. You propelled yourself to fly at lightning speed, eyes glowing brighter, and caught her at the last possible moment, outrunning Stephen's cloak in the process.

You flew and dropped the kid off behind Stephen, who was using all of his might to put the bus back together, trap the monster's tentacle inside the bus, and then dump the heavy vehicle on top of it. Stephen’s cloak flew past you and reattached itself to his shoulders.

Stephen whipped his head around to face you and the kid, "Watch out!" She screamed as she watched the monster hurl the bus towards the three of you.

Stephen materialised a buzzsaw and directed it towards the bus, where it severed the vehicle in two, while you projected a whirlwind accidentally caused by fear to deflect the pieces of the objects away from you and the kid, both of you hiding behind Stephen.

Stephen spun around to face you with a perplexed expression on his face after seeing you, but now with hair as white as snow, your eyes fading back to their normal colour.

"What? You're not the only one with cool powers. " You gave a shrug and followed Stephen's lead by shifting your focus to the child at the same time.

"Do I know you?" He questioned the kid as memories of her appearing in his dream began to flash in his mind.

Both of you were so distracted that you didn't notice the tentacle coming in to swat you and Stephen out of the way. You were flung across the street and into a café, which is where Stephen was knocked unconscious.

You rolled on your back after you crashed on the tiled floor, you gritted your teeth in pain and stared at the ceiling, wondering why you had brought yourself into this mess in the first place, “What was I thinking?”

The cloak that belonged to Stephen swooped in and leaned close to your face, as if it were inspecting you, before it made the decision to smack Stephen across the face several times.

When you saw a piece of clothing slapping the Doctor, you blinked and felt a little disturbed. You could hear the child scream as the enormous octopus was enslaving another man while it pursued her mercilessly. You bolted out of the cafe in an instant and soared towards the girl who was doing her utmost best to escape being struck by the tentacles that were attempting to slam her.

“Hold on tight!” You yelled as you reach out for her hand, whisking her off the ground and carrying her towards the first tall building you could find while barely dodging the monster’s attacks.

The monster let out an angry shriek and tossed the motorcycle at you. Fortunately, you managed to get the girl down on the ledge in the nick of time, before the vehicle collided with your back, forcing you to lose your balance and fall onto the balcony of a complete stranger, where you were pinned by the bike.

•••

Gargantos crawled towards the building where the girl was, still carrying Wong around like a ragdoll. Stephen sprung out of the cafe and conjured a sword, which he then threw at the tentacle that was restraining Wong.

When Wong was finally freed, he sprang to his feet and elegantly straightened out his clothing. At that moment, Wong saw Strange approaching from behind him and said, "Did you know it's a tradition to bow in the presence of the Sorcerer Supreme?"

"Oh, I’m aware of the customs.” Stephen responded, but he did not bow before Wong. At the same time, they conjured up a magical chain and used it to lasso Gargantos in an effort to draw the beast back, which didn’t work,“Whoa!” Stephen exclaimed as they got dragged up.

Gargantos seemed to be losing its patience and swatted the chains off, wrapping his tentacles around Stephen’s waist tightly, “Argh!” Stephen grimaced and struggled under Gargantos’ grasp. The cloak was able to slip out and cover the monster’s eyes.

Stephen extended his hands out in the direction of a street light, the cloak trying its best to conceal Gargantos' vision. The light was lifted off the ground by big purple hands that emerged from him. Stephen growled as he struggled to remove the lamp from the ground.

You were finally able to dismount the heavy motorcycle off of you and gained insight into what Stephen was attempting to accomplish. You pictured yourself creating blades out of the air that was spinning in your palm, and then you aimed them towards the cable attached to the lamp with the intention of severing it. As the cloak was thrown back, exposing the creature's eyes, Stephen launched the lamp in the direction of Gargantos, and stabbed it, using what was left of his strength to gouge its eyeballs out.

•••

You descended slowly and stealthily into an alleyway, hoping that Stephen would not see you since you didn't want anything to do with him or be discovered. You felt his curiousity or distrust when he saw you for the first time with your powers. You peered over the bend and saw that the girl was in a safe setting now that she was in the presence of the two sorcerers.

After having all of that adrenaline drained out of your system, you instantly felt the sting from your scrapes and grazes, and you told yourself, "Ugh, this is going to hurt even more tomorrow morning." You moaned while massaging your lower back as you decided to just casually stroll back to the party to get your car.

Stephen put his hand on Wong's shoulder to stop him from opening a portal, “Hang on a second, we’re missing someone else,” He searched for you while turning his head in both directions, but you weren't hard to locate since your naively walked around with your hair still white, “Actually, go ahead, we’ll meet you both at the cafe.”

“Who else are we waiting for?” Wong asked before entering the portal.

“Someone who probably has a grudge against me.” Stephen replied, as he eyed you.

"Okay, well, don’t take long. We have important things to discuss.” Wong took the kid with him and closed the portal.

Stephen secretly opened a portal behind you, and with one swift motion of his palm through the air, you walked through without knowing it.

Your gaze quickly shifted from left to right as you became aware of the changes taking place in your surroundings, "What the heck?" You muttered to yourself, confused about how your got there until you heard Stephen's voice.

"Going somewhere?" Stephen sang as he approached from behind you, cocking his head to the side.

After spinning around, you saw Stephen looking kind of smug in his red and blue sorcerer uniform, "Yes, I'm actually going home." You sent him an innocent grin and walked past him while purposely bumping him on the shoulder.

Stephen rolled his eyes and launched another portal towards you, which brought you right back to him. You wrinkled your nose as you realised that you were standing in the exact same place as if you hadn't moved at all.

Stephen turned around with an open body language, “I thought you said you were going home?”

"I am!" You let out a harrumph as you exclaimed, and then you stormed past him once again. You had the distinct impression that he was up to something, and it was starting to get on your nerves. You don't like being toyed with, particularly when there is a difficult way out of the situation.

Stephen bit his bottom lip, trying to keep a laugh from escaping as he sent another portal behind you. This time, he watched you step out of it with a passive-aggressive smile.

"Okay, you're taking the 'Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?' pick-up line way too seriously." Stephen laughed and shook his head in response to his own joke.

“A-ha-ha! Will you stop doing that?!” You faked a laugh and immediately dropped your smile. You sent him daggers with your eyes, the proud smile on his face was looking so punchable, “Don’t.” You firmly added with a hard tone as you began to walk.

Stephen shook his head to one side with a neutral smile, “Fine, I won’t-”

You walked past Stephen and bolted away from him, deluding yourself into believing that you could outrun the portal. You came to find that you were back where you began, standing in front of Stephen. You made an effort to control your temper by pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a deep breath.

“I won’t let you leave until you come with me, I can keep doing this to you for as long as I can. Trust me.” Stephen told you this as-a-matter-of-factly, referring to his time with his old friend, Dormammu.

You've finally found someone who is possibly more stubborn than you are, and it's given you a glimpse into how Eric must feel whenever you allow your own stubbornness to dominate you.

“Ugh. What do you want then?” You asked, feeling tired and frustrated because of his games.

“Information, it’s so obvious that you haven’t had your powers for that long considering the fact that you looked very lousy flying around.” Stephen paused and had the audacity to judge you, “I also need to know what masters you serve.”

"Well, for one, I’m not part of a cult.” You looked at him up and down, conveying the message that you were referring to him.

“I’m not part of a cult, (Y/N).” Stephen closed his eyes momentarily. For some reason, that word always triggered him.

You were surprised that he did remember you name but you hid that emotion to yourself.

“Then why do you dress like that?” You sneered at him.

Stephen scoffed and prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his eyes slowly scanning your figure, just noticing that your feet were bare and the hem of your gown rested just above your knees, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You looked down at your attire, you completely forgot that you ripped your gown to make it shorter to make it easier for you to move, and you left your heels on some rooftop.

You felt heat creeping up your face. Feeling embarrassed, you pulled the dress down and snapped at him, "Quit staring you pervert!"

Stephen snorted, “Oh please, there’s nothing interesting to stare at,” That was a lie, “Just come with me.”

•••

You sat in a table of four with Stephen, his Asian master, and the kid from before, “I don’t understand why I’m here, I have nothing to do with her, I just met her today.” In a show of displeasure, you threw your hands up.

“I told you before, you need to give us information as well.” Stephen repeated himself.

America quietly chomps away her pizza and watches as you act like you’re being interrogated by the police, “You’re going to get a stomach ache.” Stephen turned his attention towards the kid.

“I’m from another universe, I know my stomach works the same as yours.” America spoke with her mouth full.

“I don’t, I don’t even know if you’re from another universe. Which is why I’m still sitting here waiting for you to enlighten us.” Stephen impatiently tapped his finger on the table as he and Wong waited for the kid to shed some light on the situation.

“Gotta say, of the two Doctor Stranges I’ve met so far, you’re not my favourite." When America spoke in Spanish, a squeek of laughter came out of you since you understood what she said.

Strange glanced at you and then at America, bemused, “Which means?”

America was taken aback and looked at Wong in disbelief. She continued to speak in Spanish, “He does not know Spanish?”

“I’m not sure he even enjoys speaking English.” Wong replied, and got a laugh out of America and you.

Stephen's face flushed a bright crimson as a result of his irritation, "Look, I left a very nice wedding to save a smart-ass kid from getting eaten by an octopus—”

“Who’s wedding?” Wong interrupted.

“Christine’s.” You butted in.

“You went?!” Wong leaned in, shocked to learn this information.

“Holy shit, you married Christine?” America straightened up from her seat.

"No, but he still has feelings?” You snorted.

“Yes I do, No I didn’t, YES.” Stephen answered everyone’s questions, starting with yours, and took a deep breath, “You need to explain to me what’s going on. Why was that octopus trying to eat you?”

“It wasn’t trying to eat her, it’s merely a pawn from someone who wants something from her.” You spoke up to correct Stephen.

“How do you know that? I thought you didn’t know her?” Strange leaned in, looking at you with suspicion.

“I don’t and I don’t know, I just felt it or …saw it.” You answered truthfully, your eyes fluttering as you questioned even yourself.

“So you're guessing? Is that one of your powers?” Stephen asked sarcastically.

You crinkled your nose, triggered by his tone, “What is your deal?”

“She’s right, it wasn’t trying to eat me, it was trying to kidnap me.” America backed you up, “Someone wants to take my powers for themselves.”

“What power?” Stephen asked, his tone dead serious.

“I can travel the multiverse.”

“What?”

“You can physically move from one universe to another?” Wong clarified with the kid.

“Mhm.”

“How?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t know how, I can’t control it. It only happens when I’m really, really, afraid. ” America looked down, clearly remembering something that made her feel sad.

Your head whipped up to look at the girl, knowing you can relate a little bit to her situation. It must be frustrating for her not being able to use her powers at will.

“Okay, and this other me? Did he know how to defeat these demons? ” Stephen nodded and asked further, his voice much gentler this time.

“Well, he said, there’s this book of pure good. He said that it could give the sorcerer anything they needed to defeat their enemies. ” America explained, Stephen’s face scrunching up again.

“The Book of Vishanti? That’s impossible, it doesn’t exist–”

"In fact, it does; I discovered it in the secret book—you'll see when you become Sorcerer Supreme." Wong nodded.

“You’re not the Sorcerer Supreme?” America furrowed her brows once more.

"No, I’m not.” Stephen said, in a quiet manner.

The Book of Vishanti? That name sounds so familiar to you, but you couldn’t pin down where you heard it before. You observed and listened to their conversation, now realising that they might have some useful answers to your own questions. You wanted to know why after all these years, your powers decide to manifest themselves now? You were getting lost in your own thoughts, and you weren’t aware that the subject had moved on back to you.

To get your attention and bring you back, Stephen waved his hand in front of your face. You gave a little shake of the head and swatted his hand with your own, “Tsk. Glad to have you back, Wong’s asking you something.”

“Sorry, I got lost in thought, what were you asking?” You raised your head and made eye contact with Wong.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Who taught you how to use divine elemental magic?” Wong asked, narrowing his eyes ever-so-slightly as he looked at you, his tone resonating with both interest and trepidation.

Stephen gave a little incline to his head since he very seldom encounters a conversation regarding magic of such kind.

Your eyes panned between the men and you shook your head, “No one, I just woke up one day and had them. I don’t know how or why—?” You spoke part of the truth. You can't tell them when and how exactly it appeared, you were afraid they might laugh at you.

Wong raised his brows at you, he wasn't convinced that you just woke up one day with those powers. He didn't buy it because of how your eye-contact with him wavered.

“Great. We have one who doesn’t know how to control her power and one who knows how to use it lousily. I don’t know which one is worse.” Stephen shook his head. He clearly felt stressed out that there were two of you with unknown powers.

You rolled your eyes, “It's probably your mouth.”

“We’re trying to help you here. You could benefit yourself by losing that attitude. ” A sardonic expression morphed on his face, and with his whole body now turned to face you, he was clearly prepared to argue.

You blew a raspberry and centred your attention exclusively on him at the same time. "Helping? You've done nothing except act condescending the whole time!" With the amount of tension that exists between your gaze and Stephen's, you might generate electric sparks.

“That’s enough.” Wong said calmly with authority and cleared his throat, “Ms.—”

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

"Ms. (L/N), I’m kindly insisting that you come visit us in Kamar-Taj after the kid proves to us that she is from another universe.” Wong insisted and referred to America with his hand.

You took a deep breath and looked up, jaw clenched, “Sure. Just let me get changed into proper clothing first.”

“That can be done. Where would you like me to open a portal to?” Wong asked and stood up while you did.

“The Plaza Hotel parking lot please, I need to get my cousin and my car.” You flashed him a tight-lipped smile. Wong acknowledged your request and opened the portal to the location you specified.

“See you later, Elsa.” Stephen purposefully waved at you in order to irritate you some more, and as the portal began to shut, you gave him the middle finger.

Wong gave Stephen an odd look since he was laughing softly to himself even after you flipped him off. It was unusual for Wong to find Stephen finding it amusing being blatantly disrespected, "Am I missing something?"

Stephen put an end to his laughter and shook his head as he said, "I told you, she has a grudge against me."

•••

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[jcwriting]

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep.  Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense.  It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

©jcwritings Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

LINKS:

masterlist

ao3

TAGLIST:

yzkyzkuniverse

[midnight-lightning]

can i request bonnie x reader x freya where the reader is a forbes and caroline finds out about the relationship ( if your uncomfortable writing poly you can just do freya or bonnie x forbes reader )

Damn it, Caroline

A/N: Thank you for your request @freyamikaelsonlover !! Sorry for posting it just now, hope you like it!

Pairing: Bonnie X Freya X Reader

„Oh, you’re looking good there!“

You stopped dead in your movement, hands just above the door knob on the way out.

„What’s the occasion?“ You heard her call again.

Damn it, Caroline.

You repressed a sight, already quite Familie with her usual interrogations of your whereabouts. „I’m going out.“ you said, still not turning around.

You heard her snort at that, a little annoyed already. „Yeah, I’ve figured as much. But with WHOM?“

Caroline and her damn questions.

„With… with my girlfriend.“

I mean it WAS the truth, just not the way your sister thought.

„You Don’t have to say girlfriend like it’s a big secret. I thought It was clear I’m fine you’re dating Bonnie. My best friend Bonnie.“

You rolled your eyes, a little desperately. And here it goes…

„The Bonnie I know since basically forever. I’m totally cool with that. The Bonnie, who I happen to-“

„Yes! Thank you!“ you finally turned around, facing your sister. „I get it. You feel excluded. And I promise you can come along… next time.“

The gleam in her eyes vanished just as fast. „Oh common now! That’s SO rude. And unfair!“

Before she could get herself even more into it you took the opportunity and slipped quickly through the door.

„Sorry, Care, but I’m running late-“

When the door closed behind you, you hurried to get away as fast away as possible, not even looking back.

Still you arrived at the park later than agreed on, but when you looked around the poorly crowded park area Neither of your dates seemed to be here yet.

„Hey there, cutie.“

The sudden whisper near your ear sent hot goosebumps down your spine.

But you relaxed immediately when you where suddenly staring into the eyes of Freya Mikaelson, her arm already finding the usual place around your waist.

„Where you hiding?“ you asked her with a small grin on your lips.

„I’m an original,“ Freya winked sheepishly. „I’ve got enemies everywhere.“

„Indeed, Caroline was holding me up a bit, sorry. But I thought Bonnie would already be here with you?“

To that the blonde Vampire took a step closer to you, „Well, I’m that case-“ Her eyes flickered to your lips. „Seems like we got some time to kill.“

Softly you placed a hand on her cheek, tiptoeing a bit to get closer to her face.

And just as you were about to close your eyes she suddenly vanished.

Stumbling to regain your balance you looked up only to see-

„Caroline?!“

With A murderous look on her face, she Geld Freyas throat, pressing her against a tree.

But your girlfriend was remaining calm, she was even smirking amused at the situation.

She knew Caroline didn’t even stand a chance against her.

„What the HELL do you think You’re doing with my sister?!“

And even though you knew that as well, it didn’t stop your anger.

„Caroline! Let her go, it’s not what-“

Caroline looked at you and the raging gaze on her face made you take a step back.

„And you! How could you even do THAT to Bonnie! What were you thinking? Now I get WHY you were so hesitant about where you were going to!“

„Care, please calm down.“

To your surprise you find Bonnie next to you, you hadn’t noticed that Caroline didn’t come alone.

She gave you a short glance, a little worried for how the situation had turned out.

Softly, you intertwined your fingers with hers to calm her down but also to make something plain.

Much to Caroline‘s confusion. She frowned, but still didn’t lighten her grip on Freya.

„Why are you not angry Bonnie?! She literally cheated on you with- with this-“

„Because I knew.“ Bonnie answered calmly.

„And she didn’t ‘cheat‘.“

You nodded in affirmation.

„We’re together. Like, all three of us.“

Something inside Caroline’s mind clicked and her gaze softened. „Oh… this is a poly-relationship?“

„Yes.“ Freya answered, not even bothering to hide her annoyance anymore.

„Now if you’d be so kind to let go of me? I would hate to break your wrist.“

Caroline did, without even glancing at her.

Instead something like embarrassment appeared on her face. „Well… sorry, guys.“

Freya walked over to Bonnie and you, crossing her arms. „How about you make it up by inviting us to this infamous Mystic Grill?“

Bonnie chuckled. „What an wonderful idea, love. After all this struggle.“

Carolien held her arms up in Defense, clearly seeing her mistake, even though it was quite sweet how she defended Bonnie. „Alright, alright that’a fair.“

You shared an amused glance with both of your girlfriends. Seems like the struggle was worth it, for now a free night with all your favorite girls laid ahead of you.

[elizaellwrites]

Chapters 11 & 12 Are Up!!!

Start at Chapter 11

Start from the Beginning

Expositional beginning of chapter 11:

It is with great sorrow and regret that I write this account today. I am a survivor of my people that have been brutally massacred, and I have no way of knowing how many of us are left. I am not sure if this will ever be read, but I am writing on behalf of myself, my children, and any other Hecathian survivor that has also made their way to Earth.

It was only a few days ago that we were overrun, driven from our homes by beings that would come from your tales of myth here. We come as refugees, seeking to hide in plain sight among you who are left alone by those you are unaware of. We mean you no harm, as we have no quarrel with any of your governments. Our home is presumably destroyed, millions of our people slaughtered before our eyes while we failed to defend ourselves.

We are a people not easily understood, and as I have been acquainted with a human before now, I have witnessed the tendency to be wary of the unknowns of a new people. I will not lie; we are a race that has a deep history of conflict and pain. We are rooted in what some of you would consider barbaric, with weapons of blades and close combat. The abilities we possess are mystic and untrustworthy, reminiscent of witchcraft from your own history. These, however, are characteristics of our people that do not cover all we find important.

We will not attack you or your peoples because it would be dishonorable to do so. In your allowance of our residing here, assisting knowingly or unknowingly in our ability to survive and persevere through the darkest days of our history, you maintain allyship with our cause. Your presence, your reputation of persevering through the worst times in your own right, as well as your own violence and cruelty to your own people throughout your history, keep many of our enemies away.

Our people are as rich in culture as those spread across your world. We have different beliefs, languages, and traditions, and we may vary in how we view what has happened, and I hope that this tragedy is not the death of our people. I pray that there are more of us out there. Our homeland of Ariya is a world much like your own, with forests, plains, mountains, deserts, and oceans stretching wide. The sky is more violet there than here, and our sister planet, Brakkoam watches over the eastern sky under which was my home territory. I long to return, but I fear what I may find if I do so, and whether our enemies linger is a question I do not want to be answered.

My children are young, the elder understands what has happened and is now broken, and I can only try my best to support him. I am alone. I have lost my family, my found family, my home, my beloved, my outlook, and everything but my two children. They might never see our home and may never know anything about our people and our way of life. We have nowhere to stay, and it has only been my education in this language that has saved me from having no way of communicating with anyone around me. I fear for anyone else who may have made it out.

My plea for you, humans, is for the gift of your continued graciousness and indifference. We are not a people that easily ask for assistance, we take pride in our accomplishments and believe it is shameful to be unable to sustain ourselves, but we have seen the worst and are looking for better. We are not looking for the violence we have just escaped, and we do not intend to interfere with your ways. We only wish to shelter and continue our own traditions among ourselves, and maybe one day we can return to our home.

My thanks, and the gratitude from all Hecathian survivors have been sent the way of anyone who may come across this account. May we rebuild from that which has crippled us, and may we be able to continue finding shelter with your people.

Etesha Roitae Of the Royal Guard of Caldesaria

Taglist: @hxad-ovxr-hxart, @the-printed-words, @frostedlemonwriter, and @my-cursed-prince. If you'd like to be added, please let me know!

Part 2 of Vixen is in the works and will be posted Saturday 1/21

[galvanizedfriend]

Klaroline Fic: The Wolf III

Summary: Months after their return to New Orleans, Klaus and Caroline try to settle into a semblance of normalcy, while Elijah struggles to forgive his brother's sins. But a mysterious prophecy that foretells the downfall of the Mikaelson family brings them all together in a war that will reopen ancient wounds and see each of the siblings doomed: one by friend, one by foe and one by family.

[It's The Originals Season 3, but Caroline had Klaus' baby, now she's a vampire and they are back in New Orleans after a stint in Mystic Falls. It's mostly about Klaroline, obviously.]

---

S03E03 I'll See You in Hell ✨

"My memory of Lucien goes back to a time when our family was happy. Things were good, or as good as they can be for vampires hiding in plain sight. He was the personal servant to Count De Martel and the sole survivor of one of our late-night dinners. In exchange for keeping his life, he aided us in infiltrating the count's estate, masquerading as the guests we had inadvertently slaughtered. Our stay was lengthy, and in that time, Lucien was the one who helped make us more comfortable, introducing us to the customs and feeding us the stories that helped us keep our façade."

"Wait," Caroline interrupts Klaus' tale. "That doesn't make sense. Why did you need Lucien to show you the ropes if you could just compel everyone?"

"This was shortly after our transformation," Elijah explains. "As the first of our kind, we had to learn as we moved along. Back then, we didn't yet know the full extent of our powers. Some of our abilities must have been a mystery even to our mother. We didn't understand how compulsion worked. Lucien, in fact, taught us a great deal about ourselves," he says, exchanging a meaningful look with Klaus.

Caroline's fascinated by this bit of Original history. She could sit here and let them talk about the struggles of their early days as the first of their kind. It's ironically humanizing. Knowing the sophisticated, larger-than-life immortals they've become, it's easy to forget that they were once baby vampires, too.

"He made our lives remarkably easier," Klaus continues. "And because of that, he won our sympathies. Lucien was the only one who knew our secret and, honoring his promise, he kept it to himself. Even helped to stop some rumors that would eventually arise when Kol overindulged in his cravings. As alleged noblemen, we were treated fairly and offered a comfortable stay at the Count's estate, but the same was not true for everyone. In Marseille at that time, they were all held in the thrall of the count's arrogant son, Tristan, and his sister, the lady Aurora. They were... Quite the pair."

"That is one way to put it," Elijah remarks drily.

Read the full chapter here

---

Apologies for the slight delay with this week's update. As always, big thank you to @definedareasofuncertainty for helping me put this into shape. ❤️

Fic writers feed on comments, reviews, kudos and reblogs. ❤️ Especially when they're especially sad because of a ball game. 🥲

Hope you guys enjoy it!

[novaiya]

Simple Twist of Fate - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: In a saloon in Rhodes, you see a man with virility and vigor so strong it attracts you like a moth to the flame. You watch as he downs a shot of whiskey and licks his lips, not letting even a drop go to waste. You're gathering your courage, ready to approach him and see where it takes you. Will the fate allow the two of you to meet?

Words: 2,422

Tags: Smut, Oral (male and female receiving), F!Reader

A/N: I was brushing my teeth, and Bob Dylan’s Simple Twist of Fate came to my mind. The song made me think of a possible “missed connection” type of scenario between Arthur and you. Bittersweet. Blame it on a simple twist of fate. Link to AO3

Rhodes was the type of town to crash in, get drunk, wake up the next morning and never think of again. With just one saloon, that also operated as a bathhouse and a hotel, there wasn’t much to do except for gambling and drinking, the latter of which you were engaging in at the moment. You were leaning on the bar stock and picking on the label of your beer bottle when you saw, out of the corner of your eyes, a man join you at the other end of the bar.

“Can I get whiskey, please?” you heard him say.

The rough, yet warm sound of his voice called out to you, and you turned your head to get a look at him. With his broad shoulders, chiseled jawline and a full head of dark blonde hair, he stood out like a sore thumb among the rest of the patrons of the saloon. He was attractive, plain and simple, something that couldn’t be said about the other men in this town, with their receding hairlines or their red complexions from all the years of drinking or working out in the sun. You watched as he straightened out when the barman handed him his drink. The shot glass looked comically small in his comparatively giant hand. Your eyes never left him as you watched him bring the glass to his lips and drink the whole shot in one ago, his Adam’s apple going up and down as he swallowed the drink.

As if he could feel you staring at him, he turned his head towards you and gave you a polite smile. You smiled back before quickly turning your head back towards the beer bottle in your hand, once again digging your nails into the sticker that you have almost peeled.

 He was even more handsome when you got a straight look at him. His smile seemed inviting, and you wondered if you should approach him. It’s not every day that you see men as attractive as he was and what’s the worst that could happen? If he turns you down, you could just take your beer to your room, sleep till the next morning, and leave the town the next day, along with the thoughts of the attractive stranger

The decision, however, was made for you when the object of your thoughts came to stand next to you.

“Hey there,” he said, leaning against the bar.

“Hi,” you said, instantly abandoning the beer bottle in your hand and turning your attention to the man.

He introduced himself, saying his name, and you did the same back.

“Can I get you a drink?” he said, looking at the empty beer bottle next to you.

 You accepted and he called the bartender, asking for two shots of whiskey. The two of you fell into a comfortable conversation that only two people who didn’t know each other and didn’t plan on could. You asked him what he was doing here, and he said he was just passing through. By the guns on his hip and the scars across his face and hands, you could tell he was lying, but you didn’t pry. You too had secrets that you weren’t planning on sharing with strangers, even as beautiful and captivating as him.

The conversation flowed as easily as the whiskey, and you didn’t realize how much time had passed until you looked around yourself, noticing that the saloon was completely empty, save for a few drunks sleeping at the tables and a couple of working girls chatting among themselves. A slight panic shot through you. Has your time with the mystical cowboy come to an end? You weren’t ready to bid him farewell just yet, so with a boldness that you rarely showed, turned around and said, “The night is still young. I got a room upstairs, we can continue our conversation there.” Your pronunciation of the word ‘conversation’ made the man smirk and with a southern drawl that you came to love after just a few hours of conversation, he said, “I can’t see why not.”

 The walk to your room was silent, and you were afraid that in it your wild heartbeat could be heard, getting quicker and quicker with each step that brought you closer to your destination.

You barely had the time to close the door before he pushed you against it. His mouth was on yours in an instant, his hands on your hips and in your hair. Your hands reached towards his shirt on their own, haphazardly undoing the buttons and pushing off his suspenders. He helped you rid himself of his shirt, pushing it off and dropping it on the ground. Breaking the kiss, you had a chance, for a brief moment, to look him over. Your imagination did not do him justice, you thought, as your eyes roamed over his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and toned chest covered in light, short hair. You couldn’t believe all of that was hidden underneath a flimsy cotton shirt.

He noticed you looking and smirked. He reached out with his hand, running it down your check before placing his thumb on your lips. You parted them without thinking, letting him push his thumb inside and sucked on it. He could feel his face grow hot as you ran your tongue over his thumb, keeping your eyes on him. With his free hand he went toward the fly of his pants, popping open the button and pulling out his cock. He started stroking it slowly, keeping his eyes on you as you sucked on his thumb.

Noticing what he was doing, you took his hand in yours and pushed his thumb out of your mouth. He groaned, but his tone quickly changed when you went down on your knees, your face inches away from his cock. You pushed his hand away, replacing it with your own and started stroking him. You couldn’t believe what you were doing, especially with a man you knew only for a couple of hours, but something about him made you unable to think about anything except the pleasure he was going to bring you.

He moaned your name at the feeling of your hand on him, one of his own holding onto the door in front of him, the other in your hair. You started leaving open mouth kisses all over his dick, lubricating him with your spit before finally taking the head of his cock in your mouth, gently sucking on it.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, “knew you’d be good with that mouth as soon as I saw you wrap them pretty lips on that beer bottle.”

The sound of his voice, twisted with desire, moaning because of what you were doing was like nothing else you’ve ever heard, and you went to work, taking him deeper, wanting, no, needing to hear him again.

He started to move his hips, pushing more of his length in your mouth. He was big, bigger than anyone you had before, and you were having a hard time fitting all of him in your mouth, though you still tried.

Suddenly, after a few moments, he pulled back, a string of salvia connecting your lips and his cock for a brief second.

You pouted at the sudden loss, already missing the weight of his cock on your tongue. He must’ve sensed your disappointment and said, “Sorry darlin’, don’t want the night to end too quickly.” He extended his hand, helping you up to your feet before crashing his lips against yours once again, not minding the taste of himself on your lips. He turned you around and started pushing you towards the bed. The mattress gave out a soft squeak as the two of you fell on it.

“Let me return the favor,” he said, licking his lips and eyeing you like a predator.

He paved his way to your center with feather light touches, kissing and nipping on your exposed skin as soon he pushed your blouse off. You helped him pull down your pants, and they, together with your soaked drawers, went flying to the floor.

“Look at you,” he said as soon as he saw how soaked you were. “All from sucking cock?”

You bit your lip, slightly embarrassed, and turned your head to the side, hiding from his intense gaze. He smirked to himself, amused by your sudden shyness.

He ran a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness, before slowly, agonizingly so, pushing in. Long and thick, his finger alone was already too much for your needy body, yet you wanted more. You gyrated your hips, trying to get him to move or add another finger.

He bit his lip as he watched you squirm under him, the sight of your body, needy and burning making him wet his lip. He added a second finger, not moving his eyes from your face, watching for every sigh that escaped your lips, for every flutter of lashes. He picked up the pace, pushing his thick fingers in and out of your wet entrance, reveling in the way you twisted and turned under him, moaning his name.

Your lids were half closed as you took in the pleasures he was giving you. Each push of his fingers was driving you closer and closer to your desired destination. You were panting and sighing until you felt the warm envelope of his lips on your clit. Your murmur turned into a long moan, spurring the man to alternate between sucking on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. It only took a few more moments until your hold gave out, and you let the waves of orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave of the ocean, consuming you until all you could focus on was the man between your legs.

The sight of you overcome by such passion made the man want nothing more than to feel it too, and once your orgasm subsided, he crawled up your body, seeking your mouth once again. The kiss was passionate, rough and messy, your mouths devouring each other as if each was the much needed drink of water in the hot  deserted desert. He took himself in his hand, and pushed into your sensitive, overstimulated heat. You winced at first, not used to his girth, but soon enough the slight pain gave away to ways of pleasure, and you circled your legs around his waist, motioning him to let go and find his own pleasures through your body.

His pace, calculated and deliberate, was slowly making you mad. The pull and push of his cock hit all the right places within you, and you wondered how you were going to be satisfied with anyone else after this.

After a while, his pace picked up, and you could feel that he was nearing his own release. His hand found your clit, and as he circled it, he said, “Let go for me, one more time.” His lips were on your neck, kissing down your throat, and after a few seconds all you saw was white as you came with a shout of his name.

You clawed at his back, feeling the need to hold on to something or else you would float away on the pleasures you were feeling.  The feeling of your walls spasming around him did it for him and not a moment later he-

“Miss, miss,” the bartender waved his hand in front of your face, pulling you out of your daydream.

You shook your head, as if the reverie you engaged yourself in was a cloud you could shake off, and said, “Yes, I’m sorry?”

The bartender said, “Another beer?” and looked at the empty bottle in your hand.

“Ah,” you said and instantly went for the money in your pocket and said, “Yes, please.” The man took your change and your empty beer bottle, and came back with a new one not a minute later. You thanked him and instantly went for the beer, downing almost half of it right away, trying to calm the blazing heat inside of you. You tried to, nonchalantly, see if the man of your dreams was still there. You turned your head, looking as if you were fixing your hair, and noticed that yes, he was still here, still nursing a shot of whiskey in front of him.

You felt your face flush as you stole a glance over him; tall, handsome, strong. From his dark blonde locks to muscular ass, everything about him radiated vigor. For a moment, you felt bad for making the unsuspicious man a part of your sexual fantasy, but how could you not when just by standing there he was making you drench your drawers?

You decided, that there was no use standing around and blushing like a schoolgirl, and was about to approach the man (this time, for real), when the doors of the saloon opened and in went a man that just like the one near you, didn’t look like he belonged in this town. For a moment, he stood near the entrance and looked around the bar, as if searching for somebody, only for his gaze to settle on the blonde man at the bar.

“There you are, Arthur,” he said as he clapped his hand on the blonde man’s shoulder (Arthur, right?) “Come on, let’s get going, Bill is waiting outside.”

Without awaiting Arthur’s answer, the man with a dark black mustache went back out. Arthur didn’t follow the man right away, instead settling on finishing the drink in front of him. He placed the glass near his lips, and in one go, downed the rest of it. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, collecting a drop or two of whiskey that escaped the glass. He straightened out, and as he turned around to leave, gave you a polite smile and a nod. The act caught you by surprise, but you quickly collected yourself and shot him an equally friendly smile, nodding your head in return, trying to hide the blush that overtook your natural skin color. The whole act lasted no more than five seconds, but you found yourself replaying it in your head countless times as you leaned against the bar stock, fumbling with the beer bottle in your hand.

“Arthur,” you said under your breath, pronouncing each syllable with intention and care. You could now adjust your fantasy to include his name, you thought.

[aminiatureworld]

Midnight Secrets

Characters: Scaramouche, gn!reader

Premise: In which Scaramouche is a vampire

Word Count: 2,229

Warnings: Blood, general vampire shenanigans, swearing

Author’s Note: This was fun. I got to mesh together all the weird vampire canon I’ve picked up from random pieces of culture from Dracula to anime and sort of subconsciously put bits and pieces of that in this fic. Though what I mostly pulled from you’ll probably be able to tell.

Writing vampires is kinda strange in a way though. Never thought I’d have to describe the taste of human blood.

Scaramouche

When it came right down to it, being a vampire was an annoyance. No more, no less, there was nothing mystical or abhorrent in it. It was merely a pain in the ass.

Scaramouche knew that this was, perhaps, an unorthodox view of things, considering the kind of legends that tended to circulate about these creatures of the night, the fear that tinged the excited whispers of a rumored shadow-walker which stalked the plains of Inazuma. It ought to be a curse, ought to be some sort of existential nightmare. Yet it simply wasn’t. It was an existence of inconvenience, but not an abhorrence.

Then again, how would I human understand such a thing? Empathy only applies to that we can understand, can feel ourselves. How would a human understand the complex mechanics that allowed Scaramouche to accept his status as a vampire? It was impossible, or at least that’s how Scaramouche felt until he met you.

You laughed, looking back on the way you two met, for in all honesty you found it hilarious. Walking onto your back porch, expecting to find a fox or some such thing, and being met with the sight of a human hunched over, gulping down what looked like wine, appearing somewhat drunk as the liquid spilled over the corner of his mouth and onto his cloak. It was hilarious in retrospect, no matter how many times your partner clapped his hand over your laughing mouth. At the time though it hadn’t been funny, either for you or him.

Scaramouche was still in awe of the situation, dazed by the kindness that you had showed him. Walking over as if he were any ordinary citizen you’d gently asked if he was drunk, and when he, in his bloodthirsty state, blurted out that he was a vampire and you ought to run away before he slaughtered you, you paused only for a moment before asking him if he needed a place to hide. A foolish thing to ask a Harbinger and a vampire, but nevertheless an act of supreme kindness that he could not understand. When he had snarled at you and jumped back you merely stood there, eyes wide, same concerned expression on your face. It was a turning point, though Scaramouche certainly didn’t know it, and perhaps you didn’t truly either.

Scaramouche wasn’t sure why he decided to go to your house the next time he ran out of stamina and had to drink. It was a reckless thing to do, to reveal oneself, to prove that you hadn’t simply dreamt it all up. Yet somehow he found himself once more on your back porch, desperately pouring the drink that kept him alive down his throat. These moments were the most dangerous of his existence, the most annoying and inconvenient part of being a vampire. Usually they were the times that he had to lean into his heightened senses as much as possible, as to make sure no one found out and, if they did, no one caused a scene. This time, however, he let himself go, found himself being lured into an inexplicable sense of security. When he woke up, nestled in an unfamiliar room, swathed in an unfamiliar blanket, greeting with the look of excitement and relief that danced across your face, he knew that he had committed an irreversible act.

Though he hadn’t meant to stay within the confines of your house, the outskirts of your village, Scaramouche ended up passing an entire week with you before realizing how much time had truly passed; a Harbinger did not often think of how long they left their troops, for many missions required solitude. This was no such mission though. At first the Harbinger was unable to explain why he stayed, why he felt pulled towards spending time with you. It was only after the fifth day, when you proclaimed that you enjoyed spending time with him more than anything in the world, that Scaramouche had a name for the emotions he felt. Enjoyment, pleasure, joy, happiness, who would’ve thought that such a thing could come out of such a mistake? Who would’ve thought that a vampire could find a kindred spirit in a human?

The first week that Scaramouche spent with you he revealed little of what it meant to be a vampire. There were certainly moments when the situation however at your shoulders, like when you tried to prevent him from going outside for fear he might burn up, or when he got hungry and accused you of trying to starve him to death – you rather thought vampires didn’t need food to survive. Still when he left at the end of the week, for he had to leave eventually, you had pierced little of his true nature, or so you thought. The Balladeer, on the other hand, was shaken at how easily you seemed to penetrate his nature, his identity, how easily he followed your whims, glancing at whatever caught your interest. It was the kind of thing that one might expect a bitten human might do, fall into a sort of trance, a persuaded state. Yet there was no magic, no inexplicable phenomena. It was merely you.

The next time the two of you met was when you found out who Scaramouche was, as he was traveling with his entourage, acting a Fatui Harbinger proper. He was almost proud of the fact that you seemed more upset at his Harbinger status than his vampire state, though certainly it was a stupid thing to be upset by both things, for was that not simply the natural state of the world? Nevertheless you were there, waiting, when his feet found their way once more to your back porch, and when you begrudgingly smiled Scaramouche felt as if he had felt true sunlight for the second time in his life.

He told you about himself after that, though a part of him knew it was too reckless to do so. He hardly knew you after all, and if his vampiric state was a secret shared only between him and the Tsaritsa, wasn’t it odd that you somehow factored into it? Yet he once more found he could not contradict you, nor stop himself from following where your mind went.

“What does it even mean to be a vampire?”

“What?” It seemed like a very foolish thing to ask.

“What does it even mean to be a vampire? I mean, you don’t burn up in the sun, you need food to survive, you’re still part of a crime syndicate instead of, I don’t know, simply existing. Were you even born a vampire or is being ‘turned’ still such a thing? I don’t understand it Scaramouche. I want to. I want to know who you are.”

“A foolish thing to say. I could break you if I willed it. Why should I answer your questions when you are so below me?”

“Because I want to know. And because it’s stupid to say that I am below you.”

Perhaps it was the shock that loosened his tongue. He didn’t really believe you at the time, for how could he when all he knew was that he was superior? Yet he still told you everything, if only in that moment to prove that he was right.

“A vampire must survive on blood. Vampires walk in the shades between life and death, and thus there are many different mutations and types of vampires. Some require food on top of blood to survive, some do not. Some automatically fall asleep when the sun comes up, or burn at the contact, some do not. Some have other supernatural abilities, some do not. Vampires are not human, but they are an offshoot of something that may have once been human, may have once been adeptal or part of some long dead spirit or oni. That is what a vampire is.”

“It seems very complicated.”

Scaramouche could not tell if you were joking or not.

“It isn’t complicated to someone who isn’t a total ingrate. I require blood and food to live. I do not have to fear the sun. My lifespan may be expanded in some way. That is all you need to know, and even then you could live quite well without such information.”

“I see. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For telling me of course!”

Scaramouche realized all at once that it may have been a silly question to ask.

Afterwards visiting you became a habit for the Harbinger. At first it was curiosity to see how long until you inevitably became afraid of him. Then it was curiosity as to what such a mundane human as yourself could possibly spend their days doing – especially considering the fact that, regardless of whether you had a vision or not, you didn’t seem to be doing a great deal of fighting. Then it was curiosity for… what? Scaramouche could not answer this question, but nevertheless he continued to visit you. And something continued to grow in him, though he could not yet name what it was.

The day that he realized what it was, was the inevitable day, the day that Scaramouche had been dreading without realizing it. He knew that it was almost certainly going to happen one day, yet it did not make it any less distressing.

He was thirsty, he was really, really thirsty. But he wanted to see you, he felt that curiosity once more, pulling at him as always. It would be so easy to stop by the forest for a half an hour to find something to eat, to not push himself when he knew that he was already treading into dangerous territory. Yet pride and something else kept his mind clouded and soon enough he was on your back porch. He managed to register the door opening and your bright smile before a searing heat flooded his body and he felt sicker and more desperate than he had in his entire life.

“What’s wrong? You look horribly pale! Did something happen?”

“Stand back… fool.”

“What?” The hurt that echoed so clearly through your disbelief tugged at something in him, but Scaramouche pressed it down, down, down.

“You imbecile, I, I’m. I need something.”

“You? Oh. Oh don’t tell me you ran out of blood.”

“I just need, to find something. Until then you have to stand back.” Every word felt like iron as it passed his lips but still the Harbinger was determined to hold on.

“Will, will you die?”

“I, what?”

Scaramouche felt the ground tipping beneath him. Though he thought he was falling quite fast he hit not the ground but your shoulder. Your presence was overwhelming, you were too close. Did you not realize that you were so close? The closest living being in his presence. Why didn’t you run? It was smarter to run. But he did not want this, though he did not understand why, as his mind seemed especially dull. Even the shame he ought to have felt was somehow delayed.

“If you need blood then just, I, uh…” you faltered for a moment, before seeming to steel yourself. “I know that you don’t know me well or anything, so this may be awkward. But I’d rather you drink my blood than die. So just, yeah. Drink some of my blood.”

“No.”

“Why not? Are you that picky? It’s better than dying!”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why in Teyvat not!”

“I, I don’t know. I just, I. It will be unpleasant.”

“And you think I care when it’s either that or you dying? Don’t be a fool. You can apologize later, or tell me my blood taste common or whatever. But just live.”

“Why?”

“I, I don’t know! But you have to do it.”

Scaramouche looked at your outstretched arm for a moment, willing himself to be as slow as possible. Why did he care so much? It was just another source of blood, not enough even to kill you. Yet the idea of it still pained him, and for a single, horrifying second, he imagined that he might go to far somehow, and then there’d be someone else holding on for life, only he would be unable to help.

I’m sorry, Scaramouche whispered against your skin, feeling feverish.

It was almost an insult how large the relief was when your blood hit his throat, how sweet the irony substance tasted.

Afterwards he didn’t want to look you in the eyes. He was almost certain that he hadn’t taken enough to hurt you, but something kept his gaze, his, trained to the ground.

“May I tell you something?”

It was your voice that drew his head up, as if you’d somehow been the one to hypnotize him. Your smile, though slightly uncomfortable, was blindingly beautiful, and you never seemed so intensely real as in that moment.

“I think I love you.”

What else could Scaramouche do but obey the pull that drew his lips to yours?

Being a vampire was a nuisance, and annoyance, a pain in the ass. There were things one had to look out that ordinary humans did not, and secrecy was key to a “normal” life. Yet if annoyance was the payment for arriving on your porch that strange night, than Scaramouche could not but secretly feel it was well worth it.

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||22-21): Solution.

(♪)

A snowflake lands on the tip of her aquiline nose; not unusual for late autumn in Coerthas, though the probability of her nose and the crystalline structure meeting under these circumstances has to defy statistical norms. She shakes her head to clear the frozen fractal; it opts to be stubborn to the last, clinging to her skin until it melts into a droplet that lingers, begging to be rubbed away.

If only her hands weren’t cuffed behind her back. Her world is narrowed to this chilly globule’s persistent presence,  and how she might best remove it. She shakes her head from side to side, gathers a sneeze. The droplet endures, viscous with sweat and snow. Sometimes, the greatest punishments start as the smallest infractions.

--Previously, in Empyreum:--

“A-and...you truly enjoy the book, Madame Neirinne?” The tale of a disgraced House she’d researched, written, bound, illustrated. She’d done her best to hide her eager need for approval from Trineaux’s adoptive parents, right up until she delivered her masterwork to their hands.

“Madame,” Nerinne replied, sharpening the title that couldn’t rightly be applied to the anxious Midlander, “it is a work of art. Of devotion, love, and dedication. Please, dear; you know they’re looking for you, but they won’t find you here. Rest.”

Anne-Sophie was capable of many things; rest was not currently one of them. Ever in motion, hands accentuating her words, her feet pacing carpets to their warp and weft, her eyes looking to what comes next. She was a guest in this House; the Hall of the Radiant Heart that her squire’s kinsfolk had spent years restoring. “Full glad am I to hear I managed some form of justice for the House you once served, Madame. I shall take your counsel to heart, though the road calls my greaves once more.” She offered Neirinne Cauvidain an earnest bow, then turned to take her leave.

She and Trineaux shared a glance as her right hand within its reticulated gauntlet grasped the door pull.

‘You’ll be alright?’ his lifted brow asked.

“But of course,” her gentle smile replied. The door opened, late summer snows making themselves welcome in the wake of her departure.

Anne-Sophie, middle daughter of House Bale, pulled the door closed, her courtly mien dissipating the moment the latch clicked. She did not like lying to her squire, and yet, it was her duty as a Knight, even a disgraced one, to protect him. Running a hand through her hair before gathering it beneath her padded cowl brought thoughts of Noémie to her mind. A fine gift from her younger sister, this glamoured shampoo was; it made her copper hair black for one day. It would have been simple enough for the Mystic Knight to work a glamour on it herself, of course, but Noémie’s solution was much more elegant and intricate, harder to detect.

Quite useful for a noble on the lam. A minor noble, she; a major charge, heresy.

Anne-Sophie settled the Temple Knight’s helm atop her cowl, buckling it into place. It had been easy enough to don this disguise; the armor was rightfully hers, after all, earned when Hrunting’s blade had touched each of her shoulders in turn. An oath made in a different Era, to a different Ishgard. She liked to think her vow still guided her---to protect and serve the weak; to defend Ishgard from those who would harm her; to keep the Fury above all other gods and goddesses.

The Midlander had to wonder how many other Knights had suffered crises of faith. It wasn’t something you talked about, not even in your private diaries; before the Fury’s wrath, all would be flensed bare.

Passing through the Gates of Judgment, she made the Sign of the Spear; a genuflection that was reflexively echoed by the Temple Knights standing guard. She made her way to Camp Dragonhead on foot, doing her best to avoid touching the Fury’s Looking-Glass overmuch. The shape-shifting sword was currently in its defensive configuration, and looked much the same as any other Temple Knight’s broadsword. Hiding in plain sight. 

Vendredi, her loyal chocobo, was less easy to hide, refusing any and all foods that would alter the hue of his lavender feathers. He was a vain creature, but she allowed him this affectation; he’d put up with a lot while in her service. Fortunately, the chocobokeep at Camp Dragonhead was sympathetic to her family; he had clearly recognized the chocobo, but had said nothing to her nor anyone else about the steed’s owner. Anne-Sophie had already paid him handsomely for his discretion; she would do so again tomorrow morning when she and Vendredi made for the North Shroud.

She took her supper alone in the small attic room she’d rented for a few days. As she prepared for sleep, she let her sharp mind run over its endless stratagems. She just needed a little more time; to build a case, to find sympathetic witnesses, to disentangle herself from any pressing business so that she might stand a chance when she faced the Inquisitors in the Tribunal.

Ser Bale had to run for just a little longer. This time, she had every intention of returning to face the consequences, no matter how dire.

(Continued here!)

[starksinner]

Rest

Summary: Charles takes care of you after a job goes terribly wrong.

Pairing: Charles Smith x Reader

Warnings: Heavy depictions of Violence, Blood, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Fluff, Implications of Sexual Harassment/Assault, Mention of Dissociation

Author's Note: I haven't written in what feels like a lifetime, so I apologize if this is a mess. Either way, the lack of Charles Smith fics across this website and others is downright a crime, so this is my "fine, I'll do it myself" moment. I hope I do some justice to (one of) the best characters in the Red Dead universe. I hope you enjoy reading, y'all!

AO3 Link

The bruised grass of The Heartlands scrape against the skin of your ankles and calloused feet as you are led from the wide-open prairies into the privacy of an austere and diminutive forest.

The air is moist with remnants of rainfall. Petrichor and the scent of nature tickles your senses as your bare feet meet the soiled ground of the woods.

In your mind, loud and boisterous, rumbles an orchestra of deafening thunder and screaming. The pounding of your head originates from the open and festering wounds that continuously pulsate from the split skin of your sensitive scalp — seething and oozing.

Your hands tremble as they are softly caressed and held within the palms of another, the caring touch calming and guiding as you find yourself threatening to slip off the face of the Earth.

When Charles whispers your name, the most delicate reminder of your existence, you can’t help but whine and whimper pathetically. You force your eyes shut as you fester in a cloud of anger and pride, condemning your humanity and the fragility of your own body as a soaring pain runs up the curve of your torso.

You breathe heavily as you groan and peer down at Charles’ language of love: touch — his ethereal touch, displayed by the tender interconnection of his fingers with your own. A familiar scarlet liquid has crept and dried into the small crevices of your fingers, serving as a grisly reminder of the evening’s barbarous events.

“Men love underestimatin’ a woman in a frilly dress,” you splutter softly, the task of speaking suddenly foreign. “Used their idiocy t’my advantage, but I ain’t too sure the price was worth it.”

Charles gives you a look that reflects that of solemnity rather than one of silent derision. You, like many individuals whose identities cause them persecution, prefer to be given a look that serves as a reminder of the severity of a situation rather than a look of belittlement. That look — the one of silent derision — is well known to you as you’ve watched it be used by men as a means of reprimanding and reminding women of their weakness, naivete, and disorder of hysteria.

Charles wasn’t most men, though. Charles was fair, liberal, and wise — no matter how much he’d quietly argue with you over such labels. He admired and encouraged your strength, both in the physical and intellectual sense. Before you even understood your love for him, you had viewed him as a mystical wonder — an actual man among men. He never viewed you as lesser or judged you unjustly. He took you as you were — in all your strength and all your weakness, with all your stubbornness and all your recklessness.

“You were only protecting yourself,” he asserts calmly, his brown eyes observing yours. ”Those men were...savages. They would’ve killed us if you didn’t hurt them first.”

Like most situations that have transpired the past couple of months, Charles held his head and was right — you knew he was right.

Haphazardly, you grip onto Charles’ hands harder, willing off the tears of discomfort that blur your irises.

“I...I don’t know where my dress stops and where I begin,” you murmur, frowning as you see his features drop sadly.

A deep maroon, the dress you wear is tailored to attract the eyes of desperate men and curious travelers. The bodice is silk and accessorized with a corset that shapes and accentuates that of which men drool and desire. Now, the lengthy ruby material is ripped and caked in pools of dried blood and other human materials you dare not to think about.

Your arms, neck, and chest are redder than the dress, dried patches of red and brown mementos from your slain enemies. You crave ripping off your skin and ridding yourself of the deadly feeling and sight of your sins.

“Camp is right over the hills through here,” Charles notes, pressing his fingers lightly under your chin. “Close your eyes and just focus on your breathing. Let me carry you, love.”

You melt into his soft touch, your face scrunching in defeat as a loud sob escapes you. “I hate killing, Charles. I hate it and I hate myself for it. It was...me or them, I know. That man said he wanted me to...I just…”

“I know,” he whispers. Without any trouble, as if you were a mere pelican feather, Charles hooks his arm under your knees and holds you to his chest. He swiftly carries you through the woods and into the open plains, navigating his way back to Horseshoe Overlook. He gently coos and whispers into your ear sweet assurances as you cry justly. “Nearly there, love.”

---

You felt dissociated from your own body as Charles helped you strip out of your ruined dress, kissing, caressing, and whispering to you all the right things. He helped you wash yourself by a nearby lake, lathering your skin with soap and pressing soft kisses against any apparent scratches and blooming bruises.

What was supposed to be a quick con job just north of Valentine, turned into a full fledged bloodbath. Your role was a simple and tired one — dressed as a rich simpleton, you were to distract some revenue agents and pose as a woman found lost on her wary travels. Charles, the silent hunter, would rummage through the agents’ wagons in search of the lock box that you had on good authority was carrying a wealthy prize.

It was easy — a con that you’ve been participating in since your rebel days with Arthur, both of you incredibly spry and dramatic in your teen years.

Things took a drastic turn as you spotted a third wagon headed in Charles’ direction, just as you were chatting up and charming a lanky looking agent. In a last attempt at distraction, you placed your hand against the agent’s chest and began flirting with him, making his eyes wander to your red painted lips and nearly exposed chest.

Alas, the third wagon of revenue agents had spotted Charles — causing a boom of gunshots and shouts to echo across the plains. Your body immediately tensed until you spotted your love hiding behind a boulder, shooting off his Springfield Rifle into the growing crowd of agents. You acted on pure instinct as you swiftly reached under your skirt, gripping your knife, and slicing the throat of the agent in front of you. His blood splattered across your face as he choked, whined, and fell to the ground at your feet. You grabbed the Bolt Action Rifle from his dead grip and began firing into the agents around you, covering yourself behind one of the large wagons.

It wasn’t until you heard Charles struggle and shout that things took a gory route. He was fighting against a brawny agent that had pinned him to the ground, both men grunting and punching for dominance. You no longer considered your own wellbeing as you kicked off your shoes and sprinted towards him, shooting the agent straight in the head and another three of them as they screamed and barreled towards the both of you. You took hold of the left side of the field while Charles ran to another empty boulder and flanked the right. Both of you fought to pick off the pack of revenue agents that had seemingly swarmed the area, reloading your guns and bearing the pain of flesh wounds resulting from incoming bullets.

Just as you thought you were in the clear, the air was knocked straight out of your lungs as your head smashed against the side of the wagon and you were pushed, face first,  into the solid ground.

“You enjoy playing with guns, sweet thing?” The man on top of you grunted and gripped your neck as you thrashed and struggled below him. He dropped his knee against your lower spine, causing a mantra of curses to pass your lips as you promised death upon him.

“You got some mouth on you,” he groaned into your ear, holding you down harder as you continued to scream and fight beneath him. “I’m gonna take you in. Teach you how to kneel an’ please me good with my dick in your mouth, sweet thing.”

Suddenly, the commotion of gunshots leapt into a dreary silence, causing the man above you to turn his attention to the sudden absence of noise.

In your panic, you heard Charles scream your name.

With all your strength, you growled and practically bucked the agent off of you, reaching forward for your knife and whipping around to kick the man where it truly hurts the most.

The coward wailed on the ground and gripped his manhood, cursing you out as he shuffled backwards in fear. You spat and stalked towards him, your chest heaving and your eyes only seeing red. You pressed your right foot into the agent’s abdomen, hard, squatting down and positioning the tip of your blade near his chest.

“I hope hell burns extra hot for you, sweet thing.” You sneered at his visible fear and hurled the blade into the man’s chest — over and over, you plunged your knife into the agent’s body as blood poured from his mouth and he gaped at you with wide, dying eyes.

Blood poured from your scalp down to your face, your side screamed in agony, every inch of your skin was matted with blood that wasn’t your own — you stabbed until you physically felt the soul of the man beneath you leave his body.

That’s how Charles had found you, still and motionless, covered in blood and lost in your head as he called out for you and led you away from the strew of dead bodies.

---

“I need you,” you speak softly, breaking the night’s silence. You and Charles were under the protection of your tent: he’d been crafting poultice for your inflamed wounds while you’d been attempting to find pleasure in a bowl of Pearson’s stew. Your mind couldn’t stop racing and mulling over the day’s events.

You craved a distraction. You craved Charles.

“Charles?”

“Not tonight,” he murmurs. He speaks with an unwavering finality but with no anger, upset, or aggression. “You need rest. The both of us.”

You frown, like a child. “I just...I’m…”

“I know.” He places the cloth he was working with down and shuffles his way over to you, gripping the blanket by your feet and putting it over your body. He wordlessly noticed you had been shivering, wrapped only in your thin chemise. “When we’ve both recovered, we can share each other...It’s been a long day and I don’t want the love I have for you to pose as a distraction from the pain.”

You snuggle into his side, basking in his scent of ginseng and cedar, and nod against him. He was right, he was always right. “I...I love you, Charles. So, so much. You’re...everything and more to me.”

“And you to me.” He presses his lips against your temple, making sure not to touch the bandages against your scalp. He too takes in your scent, sprinkles of honey and peaches, a smell that proves to be his home and final landing.

He watches your eyelids flutter shut and lets you lay against your shared mattress, pressing a final day’s kiss against your warmed cheek. He is satisfied by your peaceful reflection. “I’ll wake you in the morning for coffee, my love. Get some rest now.”

Charles' sweet whispers are your last rememberings of the day as you drift off into a calming dreamland.