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fangirl-writes · 2 years

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Wolfie

Jasper Whitlock/Hale x Fem!Werewolf!Reader

Request:

hiiii! idk if you’re still writing about jasper, but i was wondering if maybe you could do like where jasper is dating a wolf, like from jacobs family, and they are fighting the newborns and jasper nervous for her, and like after the fight the volturi comes and the reader stays with jasper and like clings too him, but she’s still like in wolf form? i don’t know if that makes sense but i’ve been trying to find a story like that but i can’t sadly and i rlly like ur stories so i was hoping you’d write it:) if not it’s totally fine, i totally understand if you cant!

much love xxx<3

Warning(s): Canon-level violence and related mentions of blood, broken bones, etc.

Notes: My first twilight imagine! Yay! This is way too long but I hope you like it. I had to rewatch Eclipse to write this. Honestly, the movies are pretty good all things considered.

Summary: Wolves and Vampires are meant to be mortal enemies. But, occasionally, there are times they work well together. Fighting newborn vampires is one of those times. Of course, you and Jasper never liked the whole rivalry in the first place.

You met Jasper in the woods.

The only place you could go to be what you truly were. Do what you truly loved. And that was running.

Whether it was in wolf-form or not, you would run through the trees and feel the wind whipping at your face. It was freeing, you felt connected to your roots and to the wolf inside you.

You usually ran alone, since no one could ever keep up with you. Not even Jacob. Hell, Jacob’s motorcycle couldn’t keep up with you.

Your dad, Billy, said it was a special spiritual connection you had, being able to run so fast without shifting into wolf form.

A running partner would be nice though, someone to talk to while running instead of just filtering between your thoughts and Sam’s, and Jared’s, and Paul’s until you got far enough away for radio silence.

You thought about asking Sam a couple of times, but he was such a stick in the mud you knew he’d kill your vibe if he even agreed to go. And Paul and Jared got on your nerves so you didn’t even let your mind go there.

It was kind of lonely sometimes.

But not today.

You weren’t sure if it was werewolf instincts or basic human intuition, but you could tell someone (or something) was following you.

If it was Jacob or any of the other boys, you could recognize their scent a mile away, but there was nothing. You couldn’t smell anything (wasn’t close enough) and there was nothing to see or hear, but it was definitely there.

The scent of fresh blood nearby made it seem like it was a predator. Perhaps a mountain lion or a real wolf, which didn’t worry you as much as the alternative. If push came to shove, you could take one of those things.

Something flashed through the trees overhead and you gasped, feet digging into the dirt as you skidded to a stop.

Your heart was pounding as you glared at the forest around you. Something was there. You could smell it.

“Where are you?” You said, softly, more to yourself than to the creature stalking you.

You heard leaves rustle and followed the sound, turning in circles and getting increasingly more worried as the thing circled you. “Show yourself, coward!”

God, you wished you could get that telepathic link back and call for help. You supposed you could shift and howl if things got really desperate. But that sounded humiliating, especially if this thing was a vampire.

A large sense of calm suddenly washed over you, the weight of worry lifting from your shoulders and you sighed almost involuntarily.

A man walked out from behind a tree.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had to get close enough to calm you down. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was blond and lean and he smelled like rotten candy. His skin was riddled with scars, spaced thickly together on his neck and jaw. Others lined his arms in a faded white that told stories. He had been in more fights than you could imagine, and he'd never lost.

His eyes were strikingly gold, but there was a darkness behind them.

You had the feeling you’d do anything for him. If he asked you to kill yourself you would without hesitation.

And oh- oh no.

Panic began to build again and the handsome stranger strengthened his gaze on you, your emotions shifting back to calm. But there was something else, too.

That desperate, longing feeling…the strong desire had vanished too.

“Wh-what did you do to me?”

The man’s face softened. “I just calmed you down. That’s my ability; I can control emotions.”

“A-ability? What are you-“

You felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over you as the realization set in. It made sense: the speed, the smell, the golden eyes.

Your imprint was a vampire.

“I’m Jasper,” He said. “I know your scared. This is not a normal thing… at all, but Alice- uh, a girl in my family, she can see the future. And she saw us, together.”

It was all too much at once. You felt like you were drowning. You couldn’t get over the simple fact that a vampire was your imprint.

The creature that caused your transformation- your extremely painful and terrifying transformation- was your soulmate. The perfect match for you.

God, your ancestors must be rolling in their graves.

“I-I’m sorry…this is just so strange. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around it…” you said.

“That’s alright.” He- Jasper replied. “Can I come closer?”

He was stood about ten feet away from you, a respectable distance, which you were thankful for.

You took a moment to consider before replying. He was a vampire, he could kill you without a second thought, but he was also your imprint. He’d come so close to Quilete land just to find you and he’d been nothing but kind since he revealed himself.

“Okay… yeah, yeah, you can come closer.”

He smiled, relieved, and closed the distance between you.

As he neared, you realized how tall he was. But instead of threatening, it was charming.

And his scars, you realized with horror, were bite marks.

Jasper chuckled. “I didn’t think the wet dog smell would go away, but I was prepared to make sacrifices.”

You smiled, feeling more at ease (whether that was yourself or his powers, you didn’t know, but would come to learn the difference). “And you don’t smell like rotten candy anymore.”

That made him laugh. “I didn’t know we had such an aroma.”

That desire was starting to creep back in. You wanted to know everything about him, wanted to be near him all the time, wanted to smell the sweetness of him. It was a pleasant feeling and wasn’t unwelcome any longer. You guessed that’s why most shifters felt happiest by their imprintee.

He reached up a hand and caressed your cheek.

“Your hands are cold,” you said.

“I’m sorry.” He replied, retracting his hand.

“No, no,” you grabbed it gently and placed it back on your cheek. “I like it.”

If vampires could blush you were sure he would’ve.

You kept one hand over his and used the other to feel up his arm and over his chest, trying to commit every curve to memory.

“And you’re so warm,” he whispered, placing his other hand on your waist and pulling you ever so closer.

“I guess we’re a good match then,” you replied, just as softly. It felt strange to be so intimate with someone you’d just met. But nothing had ever felt so right.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

You hummed. “Yes, please,”

His lips were cold, like the rest of his skin, but they were soft and gentle, easing into the kiss. Your stomach fluttered and you shivered as he ran his hands up your arms before curling around your back.

Your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more.

That desire inside strengthened, but you supposed that was just the way it felt to kiss your soulmate. And, god, did it feel good. The same hands that could end your life in a single motion were holding you tenderly.

You finally pulled away to catch your breath (Jasper could’ve stayed right there kissing you forever) and pressed your forehead against his.

“By the way,” you said. “My name is Y/N.”

It was the scandal of the century when you left the pack to be with a vampire.

Your dad didn’t like it, but he supported your choice. And, unlike your brother, he still talked to you when you visited.

Jacob practically disowned you. He hated vampires and it only got worse when Bella Swan fell in love with Edward.

Jacob felt like the Cullens were taking away everyone he loved and they were going to turn them into cold, heartless bloodsuckers.

Which was preposterous at best. All the Cullens were very aware of themselves and what it means to be a vampire. Most of them didn’t have a choice in the matter, being what they are. And despite them not beating, they still had hearts.

Hearts that welcomed you and loved you the moment you stepped through their door.

Well, Rosalie needed some convincing and Edward was less than thrilled, but the others were great!

Of course, it was an adjustment having an alive person in the house and not wanting to rip their throat out. You just made sure to avoid bleeding at any cost, as if that wasn’t something you already did.

Alice immediately accepted you as her sister and you thanked her for leading Jasper to you, which she insisted wasn’t necessary.

And Bella, the girl you once babysat over summer, was surprised to see you when she visited with Edward the first time.

“Y/N?” She said when you came into the room with Jasper.

The two of you had just been out hunting/running and you smiled wide when you saw her. “Bella!”

You guys hugged.

“Wha- why are you here? Jacob said you weren’t around anymore.”

“Um. I’m not, sort of.” You replied. “Let’s talk in the other room shall we?”

“What’s going on, are you a vampire, too?” Bella asked.

“I can’t believe you know that already, but no, I’m not a vampire. I’m...something else. I can’t tell you what I am, you know too much already. I’m with Jasper though. He’s, uh...he’s like my soulmate.”

“Soulmate?” Bella said. “Vampires have those?”

“I guess?”

Of course, Bella was the start of SO many more problems. James, Victoria, and Laurent, Bella’s papercut, the Cullens leaving town (and leaving you and Bella behind), Bella finding out about the pack, and the Volturi finding out about Bella and you.

But those events had brought an understanding between you and the boys.

Which brings you to where you were now, celebrating Bella’s graduation.

“Quil, Embry, Jake!” You threw yourself into each of their arms, hugging them. “So glad you guys came!”

Jasper was standing nearby, not one to leave your side very long, and Jacob shot him a sour look.

“Hey, Y/N!” Embry replied, ever the optimist. “You need to come visit again soon. Sam sucks as a wrestling referee.”

You laughed. “Give me a call next time and I’ll be there.”

“Will do.”

“Seth misses you, too,” Quil said. “Won’t shut up about how you made life with Leah more bearable.”

“Oh, you guys should leave her alone.” You chastised. “She’s just as sour as Sam, anyway,”

The boys shrugged and grinned. Neither conforming nor denying your words.

You glanced over to the stairway to see Bella and Jasper talking to Alice. Alice looked frightened. And that was never good.

“They’ll be here in four days,” Alice said, once the present Cullens and the four shifters gathered in a side room.

“This could turn into a bloodbath,” Carlisle said.

You exchanged a look with Jasper.

“Who’s behind it?” Edward asked.

“I didn’t see anyone I recognized.” Alice said. “Maybe one.”

“I know his face,” Edward said, reading Alice’s thoughts. “He’s local. Riley Biers...he didn’t start this.”

“Whoever did is staying out of the action.”

“Must be playing with the blind spots in your vision,” Carlisle said.

“Either way,” Jasper spoke up. “The army’s coming and there aren’t enough of us to protect the town.”

“Hold on,” Jacob said. “What damn army?”

“Newborns.” Carlisle explained. “Our kind.”

“What?” Jacob turned on you. “Did you know about this?”

You shrugged and smiled sheepishly. Yeah, you did.

“What are they after?” Embry asked.

“They were passing around Bella’s scent,” Alice said. “A red blouse.”

“They’re after Bella?” Jacob said. “What the hell does this mean?”

“It means an ugly fight,” Carlisle said. “With lives lost.”

Jacob looked to Quil and Embry, a decision being made between them.

“Alright,” He said. “We’re in.”

“No,”

“Bella-”

“You’ll get yourselves killed, no way.”

You sighed, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking for permission,” Jacob said, lowly.

“Edward,” Bella pleaded, looking towards her boyfriend to back her up.

He gave her no such rewards, looking between the boys and Bella before saying, “It means more protection for you.”

“No, I won’t let you do this, Jake,”

“He can take care of himself, Bella,” You said, glaring at her.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what was it?”

“Look, just because you decided to abandon them-”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you!”

“Enough!” Carlisle interrupted. “Jacob. Do you think Sam would agree to...an understanding?”

Jacob’s jaw tightened and he got that brooding look in his eye. “As long as we get to kill some vampires.”

Asshole.

“Jasper?”

You looked to your boyfriend who had been sitting quietly next to you for the better part of the conversation.

“They’ll give us the numbers,” he said. “Newborns won’t even know they exist. It’ll give us an edge.”

“We’ll need to coordinate.”

“Carlisle, they’re gonna get hurt.” Bella protested.

You bit down on your tongue and Jasper sent a wave of calm over you.

“We’ll all need some training,” Carlisle replied. “Fighting newborns requires knowledge that Jasper has. You’re welcome to join us.”

Jacob nodded. “Alright. Name the time and place.”

“Jake. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Bella, this is what we do.” Jacob replied, icily. “You should be happy. Look at us. Working together.”

He looked over at you. “And you are the one that wanted us to get along, right?”

“Asshole.” You said, a bit of a smile tugging at your lips

“Bitch.” He replied, smirking.

After that you returned to the Cullen house. Not much was said as you and Jasper lounged on the couch, reading. You could tell he was thinking about the approaching fight and his past battles because he never turned a page.

When Edward returned from dropping off Bella, you could tell by the way he stalked into the room that he was looking for an argument.

“Must you always provoke her?” He asked.

You looked up from your book. “What, did the princess complain about me the whole way home?”

The disgusted look on Edward’s face only grew at your reply. “What’s your problem with her? I thought you and her were friends.”

You snapped your book shut. “Look. She may have you and my brother wrapped around her little finger, but not me. Someone has to be the bearer of bad news that the world doesn’t revolve around Bella Swan.”

“She’s in danger, Y/N. The least you could do is try to be civil.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that she was the only life that mattered here-”

“Stop.” Jasper said, sternly. The snapping of his book closed filling the room and shutting the two of you up. “Edward’s right. If you can’t keep this little rivalry you have-”

“Rivalry?” You were standing now, absolutely aghast at his accusation.

“Y/N-” He began, reaching out for you, eyes trained on you.

“Don’t.” You spat. “Don’t play with my emotions right now. Don’t you dare.”

He had the decency to look guilty about it.

You stormed out of the room, making sure to knock into Edward’s shoulder as you headed for the balcony.

The anger was bubbling up. If you didn’t leave now you’d shift in the house and destroy something or hurt someone. And it helped that you couldn’t stand being in the same room as those two right now.

You climbed onto the railing and dove off, shifting halfway down and landing on all fours. You took off running into the woods, making sure to howl to really twist the knife in Jasper’s gut.

Rivalry? You thought. Rivalry?! Who does he think he is? We don’t have a rivalry. It’s not like were competing for a spot on team Cullen. Bella’s just like that annoying younger sister who gets everything she wants, leaving you to the sidelines. To rot like second best-

You skidded to a stop.

Oh, shit. Am I jealous of her? No. No way. Not jealous, just...

The anger began to dissipate into confusion and hurt.

It made sense all of the sudden. You were jealous of Bella.

You’d tried for years to get the tribe and the Cullens to get along. They made you choose. To pick between family and love. But then Bella came along and was able to live in both worlds. She didn’t have to pick.

It helped that she was pretty ignorant to it all for a while. You knew too much, more than she did. You knew the tribe’s history, to the connection to vampires. You knew all of the Cullen’s darkest secrets and dreaded pasts. You were fully immersed in a way she never could be.

And it wasn’t that you wanted any evil vampires to try to kill you, but it would be nice to not have to face the consequences for the choices Bella makes. For her to undo all the progress you’d made just by existing.

It would be easier if you were a vampire instead of a shifter. You can’t say you hadn’t thought about asking Jasper to...well, he’d never agree to it anyway. And who knows what it would do to you.

You shifted back, realizing where you were. Stopped dead in the same spot you’d met him. In that little clearing between the trees.

The leaves rustled in the wind and you shivered. Your clothes had ripped off with your transformation, leaving you cold and alone.

But you couldn’t go back. Not yet. You were still mad, even though the anger was gone. His words hurt. You weren’t ready to see him yet.

So, you shifted back into a wolf and curled up against a tree. A nice sleep in the woods might help you clear your head.

You sensed Jasper before you saw him. Your eyes opened as you caught that familiar sweet scent that only he carried.

You sat up, having turned back into a human sometime through the night, and rubbed your eyes. “I know you’re there. You can come out.”

He slunk out from the trees. He was carrying a fresh pair of clothes for you and had a blanket slung over his shoulder. You could’ve kissed him.

He handed them to you gently, allowing you to reach out and take them from him.

He kept his distance as you dressed, about ten feet away.

Once dressed, you tossed the blanket over your shoulders and smiled tiredly at him. “Now doesn’t this look familiar?”

Jasper chuckled. “Can I come closer?”

You nodded, beckoning him forward. “Come on,”

He sat next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for what I said. That wasn’t what I meant and I should’ve thought about my words before I spoke.”

You shook your head. “No, you were right. I’m carrying this distain for Bella and I need to let it go. It’s not making anyone happy and if her and Edward are going to be together, I’m gonna have to get used to it.”

Jasper hummed, kissing your temple. “She could never replace you, you know?”

“Yeah...thank you.”

“We’re supposed to go meet with the wolves for training in a few hours. Do you want to go back to the house for breakfast beforehand?” He asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “But you guys don’t eat?”

“I...may have bought a bunch of your favorite breakfast foods. To make up for my mistake.” He said, a little sheepishly.

You laughed. “Never change, Jasper Whitlock.”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

You both stood, holding hands.

“Do you think...” You bit your lip. “Can I invite Bella over? I can’t eat all of that breakfast by myself.”

Jasper smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Emmett flew through the air, hitting the ground with a crash that would’ve killed any human. But he got up with a ferocity in his eyes and said, “again.”

Edward pulled up in his silver jeep carrying you and Bella in it and parked half-hazardly in between two trees.

You got out from the backseat and immediately went to Jasper’s side.

“Wouldn’t even let us eat breakfast alone,” You whispered. “I think he thinks I’m gonna eat her or something.”

Jasper bit back a laugh and turned with the rest of the family as the Uley back emerged from the trees. All ferocious and upset looking.

“They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms,” Edward explained.

“They came, that’s what matters,” Carlisle replied. “Will you translate?”

Edward nodded.

Carlisle and Jasper approached the pack, standing before Sam, Jared, and Paul. You hung back by Bella and Alice. Last thing that bridge needed was a loose board.

“Welcome,” He began. “Jasper has experience with newborns. He’ll teach us how to defeat them.”

“They wanna know how the newborns are different from us.”

“They’re a great deal stronger than us,” Carlisle explained. “Because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months in this life.”

With no further questions from Sam, Carlisle turns the speech over to Jasper, who swaggers to the center of the group’s gaze like he was made for it.

“Carlisle’s right,” He said. “That’s why they are created. A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. And no human army could stand against them.”

A growl from Sam.

“Now, the two most important things to remember are first, never let them get their arms around you - they will crush you instantly - and second...never go for the obvious kill.”

You smirked.

“They’ll be expecting that. And you. Will lose.”

Jasper turned to his side of the group. “Emmet.”

Now things were going to get interesting.

(Tbh just go watch the scene on YouTube for this, not much changes besides the Alice and Jasper stuff and there’s a bit extra at the end.)

“Don’t hold back.”

“Not in my nature,” Emmet replied, grinning.

You nudged Bella and she looked at you. You lifted your fingers and counted off three, two, one-

Emmett surged forward, plowing into Jasper's middle like a football player. Jasper, expecting this, planted his feet and dug them into the dirt as he was pushed backward.

Emmet threw him over his shoulder, sending Jasper spiraling into the air and landing messily on the forest floor, but never falling. He sprang up and sprinted right back into the fight.

Emmett swung, Jasper ducked and caught his arm, sending him onto the forest floor.

Jasper smirked. “Never lose focus.”

You hoped the pack couldn’t smell the desire radiating off of you.

Edward and Carlisle squared up to demonstrate next, Jasper looking on as a coach.

Carlisle gave a curt nod and the fight began. Carlisle slid, Edward jumped over. Boom, back up and running. They caught each other by the neck, forcing each of them to make steps backward.

You glanced at Jasper, who was expressionless, silently observing. You heard Sam growl from nearby.

Edward went spiraling as Carlisle threw him over his shoulder. You felt Bella tense next to you.

Carlisle threw a punch, Edward ducked, Carlisle went for another and Edward caught him by the chest, sending him to the ground.

Edward straightened up cockily.

“And one more thing,” Jasper said.

Carlisle grabbed Edward by the leg, reversing their positions.

“Never turn your back on your enemy.”

Sam seemed slightly impressed, if his expression changing from a snarl to indifference was any sign.

Jasper beckoned Rosalie forward with two fingers. She sauntered up like she’d rather be doing anything else, which was probably true.

Punch. Punch. Jasper ducked each time, her jabs missing him. He caught her arm, she spiraled and landed gracefully in a bent position.

Poser, you thought with a grin.

Alice was next. And you never underestimate Alice.

Jasper was on the offense this time and Alice moved out of striking range every time like it was the easiest thing in the world, cartwheeling out of his reach.

Jasper advanced again, throwing punches that didn’t (and wouldn’t) connect. Then, Alice disappeared. Jasper, used to knowing people’s next moves, was confused.

You glanced up, just in time to see Alice drop from the tree behind Jasper and send him to the ground.

"Y/N. You’re up.” Jasper said as Alice walked back towards Bella.

You nodded, quickly taking off into the trees to shift.

You came back in your wolf form. A brown wolf, similar to Jacob, but a little darker. Jasper almost lost himself admiring you, but it was hard to ignore when a giant wolf was running at you.

He caught your form, his hands almost making it around you before you rolled and pushed him with your back feet. Jasper grunted, falling onto his butt and watching as you summersaulted in the air and landed on all fours above him.

Jasper was slightly turned on, but only smirked at you sexily. You rolled your eyes and got off him, to which he responded by jumping on your back.

You felt his weight and immediately leapt up, sending him back to the ground.

He stood up as you rushed back into the trees to turn back.

“Sometimes you won’t be able to get the newborn off of you so easily,” Jasper said to the pack. “Like we said, they’re strong.”

“But that’s what you guys are there for right?” You said, clutching on to Jasper’s arm. You were dressed down now, in a simple tank top and leggings.

“Correct,” Jasper said softly, tilting his head and smiling.

He hardened as he turned back to the wolves. “We will do our best to keep each of you safe, just as you will do for us. And if in doubt. Go for the head.”

That about wrapped it up for the day, so the wolves left and the Cullens regrouped to go home.

Jasper and Bella were talking so you went to Edward, who was watching the interaction intensely.

“You know, she’s not gonna die if you take your eyes off of her for a second.” You said, nudging him.

He looked at you. “Thank you. For trying.”

You shrugged. “I needed to get my head out of my ass. Now it’s her turn.”

Edward frowned, but didn’t comment further.

You pricked up suddenly, feeling Jasper’s emotions changing from pride to guilt and sadness. You immediately knew what he was talking about, so you walked over, Alice not far away.

“I thought what Maria and I had was love,” He said. “But I was her puppet, she pulled the strings. I didn’t know there was another way...until I found Alice. Well, she seen me coming, of course.”

“Kept me waiting long enough,” Alice joked, walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder.

Jasper chuckled sadly, tears in his eyes. “My apologies, ma’am.”

You smiled softly.

“I don’t know what I’d’ve become without her. She brought me to Y/N. And she, well,” he looked over at you, his golden eyes meeting your (e/c) ones. “She taught me what real love was.”

Bella smiled.

Jasper walked over to you, taking your hand and kissing you as he’d wanted to all morning.

When you pulled away, he was serious.

“You don’t think less of me for my past, do you? I know I’ve done some pretty awful things, but I don’t think I could-”

“Hey,” You interrupted, touching his face. Your warm hand calming him down. “I could never think less of you. I love you. And the past is in the past. You never have to be that person again. We’re good, okay?”

He smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, darlin’“

“That’s better.”

You met Jacob in the clearing where the fight would be. Edward, Bella, Jasper, and you coming from one side and a shirtless Jacob from the other.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You own a shirt?”

“You’re not fighting?” Jacob asked, ignoring you and directing his words at Edward. “What, you pull a muscle or something?”

“He’s doing it for me, okay?” Bella defended.

“Whatever,” Jacob drawled back.

Now you rolled your eyes. Oh, the never-ending love triangle at it again.

“Just tell me the plan.”

“This field will give us an advantage in battle,” Jasper explained. “We need to lure them here with Bella’s scent. And it needs to end here.”

“Edward and I are going on a campsite,” Bella said. “Even if he carries me, they’ll still pick up on our scent.”

“Your stench, however, is revolting.” Edward snapped.

You frowned but didn’t comment.

“Dude, you really don’t want to start comparing stinks,” Jacob retorted.

“What he means is,” Bella interjected. “That your scent will mask mine if you carry me.”

Jacob gave a curt nod. “Done.”

“This is not a good idea,” Edward said.

“It’ll work,” Jasper replied. “They won’t want to get anywhere near his...odor.”

“Rude,” You said, jokingly.

“Your odor, however, is delightful.” He said to you.

“Aw, thanks.”

“Okay, stop,” Jacob said, pulling a face. “Let’s try it.”

Bella walked over and Jacob picked her up.

“Ode of wolf, coming up,” He said.

Edward grimaced.

“Run.”

Doing as he was told (for once), Jacob took off into the woods.

After a few minutes, Jasper took off into the woods, too. Tracking for any signs of Bella’s scent.

“Soooo,” You started. Being left alone with Edward was not your version of fun, but your nose wouldn’t be of any service. Different species senses and all that.

“Don’t start,” Edward replied.

“Wasn’t gonna,” You said with a shrug. “But you really should calm down. Your worry is almost as potent as Jake’s odor.”

“Could you step back? Your odor is really starting to bother me, makes my eyes water.”

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” You asked with a challenging grin.

Edward cracked a smile.

“Alright, mind-reader, you don’t wanna smell all the scents I can conjure up.”

“All I picked up was wolf stench,” Jasper said, coming back out of the woods. “No Bella.”

“Good work, Major Whitlock,” You teased, he bumped you with his hip.

Edward still seemed uneasy, despite your lighthearted conversation.

“This will work,” Jasper reassured.

“Great.” Edward replied, shortly.

Great indeed.

When the day finally came, you were nervous.

Not that you doubted the Cullen’s or the pack’s abilities to win the fight. It was just that things always seemed to go wrong even with the best laid plans. You had this terrible pit in your stomach.

You almost forgot about it, waking up in Jasper’s arms was business as usual and he did nothing to make it seem like he was nervous.

“Good morning,” Jasper whispered.

“Morning,” You replied, groggily.

Jasper didn’t sleep, of course, but he didn’t mind holding you while you did. He even closed his eyes, just to relax and focus and think. Sometimes you wondered if that was the closest thing to sleeping he got.

You stretched out of his grip and sat up, remembering what day it was. “When are they coming?”

“Soon.”

“Right. Soon.” You stood up and headed for the bathroom to prepare yourself for the fight. That was when the worry started to creep in.

Jasper noticed, of course he did.

“Hey,” he said when you walked back out of the bathroom. “This’ll work.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know, I know. I always worry about this stuff.”

“Would you like me to...?”

You shook your head. “No, not yet. I’ve gotta work through this or it might come back with a vengeance later when you’re preoccupied. And we don’t need that.”

He nodded in understanding.

You chuckled as he walked up to you, playing with your fingers. “You can tell we’re opposing monsters, the way we dress.”

Jasper, forever cold, was dressed in dark jeans, a dark t-shirt, and a button up underneath a heavier jacket. You, forever warm, were dressed in a pair of yoga shorts and a loose t-shirt.

He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes closing. You closed your eyes in return, taking the moment to breath him in and accept the moment of peace before the battle.

He kissed you softly.

“Have you got everything?” He asked.

You threw your bag over your shoulder. “Yeah, I think so. Just my spare clothes.”

“Good. It’s time to go.”

When you got to the clearing, you could smell Bella’s blood everywhere. On the trees, in the grass, on the rocks. Oh yeah, this would work.

“The storm really hit here,” You said.

“Well, hopefully we can use that to our advantage,” Jasper replied before turning to you. “Are you ready for this?”

“Well, I don’t take pleasure in killing innocents, but I’ll do it to protect my family.” You replied.

“We appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Y/N,” Carlisle said.

You smiled softly. “Thanks. I have to go.”

“Be safe,” Jasper replied, kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” You said, mock saluting before running off into the trees to find the pack.

“She’ll be fine, Jasper,” Alice said.

He nodded. “I know she will be.”

When you reached the pack you noticed a significant absence of your brother. “Where’s Jake?”

“On his way.” Sam replied, bluntly.

“Yeah, he wanted to help protect precious Bella overnight,” Embry joked.

You nodded. “Course he did.”

“It’s time,” Sam said.

All of you shifted in unison, hearing the sounds of the newborns ripping through the trees.

The entire newborn army blitzed out of the woods and into the field. There’s a frenzy in their eyes. Their thirst rabid at the scent of Bella’s blood. But it ends there and they are met with the Cullens, ready and willing to defend.

The two sides meet in a flurry of shouts.

Jasper claims the first kill, knocking one of the newborn’s heads clean off his shoulders with a single punch.

The newborns have the numbers, but are inexperienced and sloppy. They swing and miss and the Cullen’s gain the upper hand almost easily, but they can’t account for them all.

That is when the wolves come in.

Sam’s large, black wolf jumps over the threshold first, taking the first wolf kill for himself. He is followed closely by you and the rest of the pack.

It’s unexpected, and the newborns are brought down easily by the shifters.

You’ve blacked out at this point, allowing the wolf to take over your actions so you won’t be burdened with the guilt and memory of killing these people. These kids.

It’s too easy to rip into them. Their skin cracking like glass and ripping like paper.

Jacob rips through the trees and attacks immediately. You wish he could hear your thoughts so you could tell him he was an idiot and to be careful.

In your distracted state, one of the newborns managed to get you to the ground. You flailed and rolled, trying to get him off of you.

Jasper ran through three newborns to get to you, a fury in his eyes. He wouldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.

He rips through the newborn’s head like it’s made of water.

You make eye contact with him, a silent thanks, and the battle continues.

It almost isn’t fair how easily your side takes them down. No training, no preparation. Almost like they were...a distraction.

You looked around, trying to spot Victoria’s red hair in the crowd or the trees. She was gone. She was going for Edward and Bella.

You howled, hoping they or Seth would hear you and be prepared.

Then, it was like a door opened up in your mind. Seth’s thoughts came streaming in like someone was adjusting the tuneage on a radio, distorted at first then became clearer and clearer.

Thanks, Y/N. It’s over.

You sighed, thankful.

“Y/N,”

You startled, looking over to see Jasper approaching you. You shifted back.

“It’s over,” You said. “Victoria’s dead.”

“It’s not over,” Jasper replied, looking over his shoulder at Alice, standing before the burning pile.

She had that dead look in her eyes that she got whenever she got a vision.

“Alice, what is it?” You asked, pulling Jasper’s coat over your body.

“The Volturi,” She said. “They’re coming.”

You and Jasper exchanged a look.

“How long?”

Bella and Edward appeared from the trees, finally approaching the group.

“Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten?”

“The pack needs to leave. The Volturi won’t honor our truce with the werewolves.” Carlisle said.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You growled.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Carlisle clarified. “But you need to tell the pack to leave.”

You nodded, turning towards where Leah stood, watching over. Jake came out of the trees to join her and see what was happening.

A stray newborn emerged as well.

That pit in your stomach grew bigger, you opened your mouth to shout, only to be cut off by Leah growling and heading straight for the newborn.

“Leah don’t!” You and Edward shouted together.

The newborn got his arms around her and you panicked, ripping off Jasper’s coat and shifting as Jacob ran over to help her.

He caught him by the neck, ripping him off of Leah’s back.

The two wrestled and you checked on Leah, she was fine and you ran for Jacob.

But it was too late. You heard the cracking of his bones just as you managed to get there, snatching the newborn off Jacob’s back.

Sam and Paul joined you in ripping him apart.

This one you took pleasure in.

Jacob shifted back, his body responding to the pain.

“Jacob!” Bella cried, running over to him.

Edward and Carlisle beat her there, tending to him to find out what was wrong.

“The bones on the right half of his body are shattered,” Carlisle explained.

You and the pack came running out from the trees, all now at least partially dressed.

“Jacob, you idiot, I had it!”

“Leah,” Sam scolded, joining you and the others knelt at Jacob’s side.

“I need to set the bones before his accelerated healing sets in,” Carlisle said. “It’s already starting.”

“We need to get him out of here,” Edward said. “We’re not gonna win a fight with the Volturi.”

“We’ll take him back to Billy’s,” Sam said.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Carlisle replied.

“Hang in there, Jake,” Bella said.

“You’ll be okay, Jacob,” You said, squeezing the half of his body that’s not shattered.

You watched anxiously as the pack carried Jacob away, that pit in your stomach the biggest its ever been.

A wave of calm settled itself over you and you knew it was Jasper when he touched your shoulder. “He’ll be alright,”

You nodded, “I know.”

You didn’t.

“They’re coming!” Alice shouted.

Jasper’s wave of calm wasn’t helping. Your worry and sadness shifted into anger at Alice’s words. You shifted.

The Volturi appeared out of the forest in the haze of fog that had settled after the storm. Their eyes the same startling red you remembered from meeting them the first time.

Jasper stood in front of your wolf form, clinging to you, ready to fight if needed.

Edward did the same to Bella.

The Cullens were eerily quiet.

Their hoods came down and you resisted the urge to growl. The Volturi had sent their lackies, the youngest (or rather the youngest looking) of their cult to approach you.

“Impressive,” Jane said. “I’ve never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact.”

“We were lucky,” Carlisle replied, diplomatically.

“I doubt that,” Jane replied, red eyes flickering over to you.

You glared, resisting the urge to growl.

“It appears we missed an entertaining fight,” Alec said.

“Yes,” Jane’s voice is slippery and she speaks with a snake-like demeanor. “It’s not often we are rendered unnecessary.”

“If you would’ve arrived a half hour ago you would’ve fulfilled your purpose,” Edward said.

Jane’s eyes are locked on him. “Pity...you missed one.”

Bree, the young newborn that had been hiding behind the group, moves, startled and nervous.

This time, you do growl.

Jasper waves a hand to subdue you and walks over to her side.

“We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender,” Carlisle explained.

“That wasn’t yours to offer,” Jane said, a sick smirk on her lips. “Why did you come?”

The question is directed at the girl, who’s standing terrified next to Jasper.

Then, she screams, body reacting to the overwhelming pain Jane’s stare inflicts.

You flinch. You remember the pain.

“Who created you?”

She screamed again, rolling on the ground in agony.

“You don’t need to do that, she’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Esme said.

“I know.” Jane replied.

It makes you sick to your stomach, knowing that she takes pleasure in inflicting that much pain.

“I-I don’t know,” Bree chokes out. “Riley wouldn’t tell us...he said our thoughts weren’t safe.”

“Her name is Victoria,” Edward said. “Perhaps you knew her.”

Jane’s eyes change emotions. Perhaps they did know.

“Edward,” Carlisle interrupted. “If the Volturi had knowledge of Victoria, they would’ve stopped her.”

They all know his words carry no truth.

“Isn’t that right, Jane?”

Jasper’s gaze tightens on Jane. She’s looking back with nothing to reveal.

“Of course.” There’s a pause and then, “Felix.”

He moves forward-

“She didn’t know what she was doing,” Esme said.

Jane’s arm flies out to stop Felix.

“We’ll take responsibility for her.”

Esme’s heart was too kind. The heart of a mother knowing too much tragedy.

“Give her a chance.” And Carlisle was known for his second chances. His desperate need to protect the innocent.

“The Volturi don’t give second chances. Keep that in mind.” Jane said. “Caius will be interested to know that she’s still human. And that you still keep the...dog around.”

You growled again.

“The date is set,” Bella said. The wedding.

“Take care of that, Felix.” Jane said, removing her arm and allowing him forward. “I’d like to go home.”

There’s nothing any of you can do to stop him as Felix walks between Carlisle and Esme, both mourning the girl already.

The Cullens watch in horror, but you can only focus on Jane’s sadistic smile, as Felix takes care of the problem.

And then it’s over.

The Volturi leave with threats made and notes taken. The rest of you are left with new demons to hide away; an ever growing collection. And you and Bella are racing to Billy’s for Jacob.

You join her in her truck, too overwhelmed with emotions to run. You needed another person to be there with you.

He’s screaming when you arrive.

“Dad,” You said, running to Billy’s side. “Is he-”

His screams persisted and you tear up. Bella stands frozen.

“That’s been going on for a while,” Quil explained.

“Docs are breaking his bones,”

“Why did he have to but in I could’ve taken that-”

“Give it a rest, Leah,” Paul snapped.

The door opened and Carlisle and Sam stepped out, looking somber.

“The worst is over. He’ll be alright,” Carlisle said. “I gave him some morphine but his body temperature will burn it off soon. I’ll come back to set up a drip.”

You sighed thankfully, standing up to hug Carlisle, which he accepted.

“Thank you,” Billy said.

The two of them shake hands, an unsaid understanding crossing between them. Somehow, that makes you feel better.

Bella, it seems, didn’t feel the same.

“He’s asking for you,” Carlisle said, nodding to her.

She seemed hesitant at first, all the eyes watching her, but went in anyway.

“God, dad, I tried, but I couldn’t get there fast enough-”

“Hey,” Billy interrupts, patting your hand. “Don’t do that. He’s alright.”

You nodded, tears forming in your eyes again. “I knew he would be.”

You felt a cold hand on your back and turned to see Jasper.

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, thanks Jas,” you said, standing up and hugging him tightly.

He returned the hug and rubbed your back comfortingly.

Him and Billy exchanged a look.

The two had never been particularly chummy, but they had an mutual respect, for you, if nothing else.

This time, though, Billy reached up and patted Jasper’s back. “Thanks for being here, son,”

Jasper nodded. “Of course.”

The rest of the pack shifted uncomfortably. A man who not long ago had been barking orders like a drill sergeant was now comforting one of their own.

You didn’t care. You just wanted to be in his arms.

When Bella came back out, she seemed conflicted.

“He’s sleeping,” she said to no one in particular.

You nodded to her.

Y/N.

You pricked up. You knew that voice. It was Jake’s.

Don’t beat yourself up over this. I know you will. It’s not your fault. And I know you can hear this so don’t be a stranger.

Asshole. You thought.

Bitch. He replied.

“Hey, you okay?” Jasper asked, noticing that your emotions had shifted.

You smiled, blinking back tears. “I’m wonderful.”

#jasper hale x you #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale imagine #Jasper hale x werewolf!reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper whitlock imagines #twilight imagine

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braemjeorn · 1 year

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a long ourank oc presentation because braem is just a writer at heart and soul.

this is honi.

honi is from my fanfic here. would be glad if you read it. would be so happy if you like it. haven't updated it in a while so below are some spoilers for us all(?)

i know. i can't draw the same face. though #Shook is my favourite.

she has longer hair in earlier designs. but then i gave her short hair and thought, oh she looks cooler. like she could be a really cool mom. that's all you need honestly. like why make your ship lovers when you can get kingdom management done with the spiCE that is legal union!

'scuse me. kept the long hair for her younger-tween looks, anyway - wasn't mentioned why in the fic but let's just say that making it to the underworld was life changing. one way or another. she got a scar on her left cheekbone after her twenties (so yeas, i forgot the middle one im sorry).

here's our man because why not. we crave loose hair desha in this house.

im so bad at drawing crowns.

i was keen on the idea of someone to balance desha's personality out, instead of the complete opposites-attract. coz this here is a brash and unapologetic man who mercilessly cackles and taunts bojji and domas at the first meeting. half the fun will be when someone doesn't really flinch at that. tempers him down a bit or countering and riling him up to make firecrackers is what I want to see.

pink ram-lion babies coz why not

honi was nearly engaged before - somewhat more experienced in the field? but things happened and romantic pursuits were shelved before they met. honi acknowledged that he was a man early on in their meeting, but after making up and a few more formal encounters assured her that he was worth being friends with. worth the days-long flight just for a few weeks of teasing, good mead and mushroom pies.

after the winter breakfast but she's still confused.

figuring out she has feelings was a breakdown on a catastrophic level.

but eh, iss all good.

cuties.

not officially engaged but at least the lightning discharge was minimum.

that's all, i guess. some wish-wash, fluffy, alternate-or-future universe musings.

(but then in the manga the ominous naration was like, desha never returned and the underworld fell into ruin *cue queen elinor toppling chess pieces* (overthinking desha's pre-canon shonen arc and how his power is what made him rank 2nd as well as keep order in the multirace, monstrous underworld). in case reclaiming the throne won't work the option is mountain-nymph!honi or passing-farmer-girl!honi. pick.)

(but also the idea that if the canon queen is the persephone counterpart and was on the overworld for her six months deal when the whole season 1 happened is also great. which makes it hilarious if they met during part 2 coz she'd be like 'what tf happened to you?' and heartbreaking if he doesn't remember her. would be fantastic if she's any sort of queen like hiling and stubbornly gets shit done - might have a crisis that she cant find despa or ouken around, or launch some curses to the judge. but I don't know abt canon-queen. only the writer knows what might happen. as long as it isn't some poor excuse of a girl-failure of a villainess miranjo is, I'll be satisfied.)

sometimes i worry if my art will be considered ai work due to my poor anatomy but i swear it's really just a poor concept of anatomy😭 i have so MUCH to improve on digital painting. lighting, shadowing, composition, their size difference—they say the captain is 265 and desha's around the same height in the artbook. honi's like 180 and she's still so tiny! next to him despite being taller than average.

bonus, somewhat suggestive comic below.

double bonus: i think they both agree that domas is a joke and keeping 2000 km distance with miranjo is a must

#aka look at my portfolio #surprise surprise :D #i love wispy hair that consist of mere lines: a discovery #ousama ranking #ranking of kings #王様ランキング #ousama ranking fanart #fanart #braem makes art?#king desha #desha #braem's honi #ranking of kings fanart #canon x oc #oc art #ibis paint x #i'm still anxious abt putting art out #but yeah there

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localvoidcat · 1 year

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tmcblr dave storyline horrifically summarized

now that he's officially dead, it's time to post the entire plotline of dave dave-the-tech-guy. i wrote this in two days with nothing but determination, the blog archive, and a can of mountain dew. please do enjoy, this will be posted in multiple parts due to the sheer length of it

note: while i'm sure there's things i've left out, or misspelled or repeated or anything of the sort, i have been working on this far too long to go back and edit. if there's anything wrong that's in god's hands i'm done here

please do enjoy this recollection of eleven months of my descent into madness!

(august - december)

august: tries and fails to help his nephew fight off the gay allegations. grows such an intense hatred towards gougars that he gets it on a shirt.

september: loses his mustache and crocs, only for them to come flying back to his face like a boomerang. he meets dirk for the first time.

october: the beginning of the shitfuck months. he gets turned into a gougar while listening to california girls and burns down mandelatech. he sees ruth for the first time since her death and his mental health immediately tanks. he goes into the spirit world to try and help her. he gets scared and screams and the guardian of the spirit realm gets so upset it throws him out. he comes back as a weird medium. he’s talking in wingdings for some reason. he takes on a false identity as “spirit box” and joins bps with jonah. he gets chased down by the (now-vengeful) ghost ruth and locks himself in a random shed in the woods to get away from everyone. johnson shows up outside. after three days of tearing at the walls, he manages to get out and start running. he is immediately torn apart. after five days of being dead, he is brought back to life by system. there are pop-ups all over his body (we learn later these pop-ups cover the missing parts of his body). he finds entity - the alternate jonah summoned in an attempt to get dave back - and knocks off its head with a shovel. doing this starts turning him into an alternate and he gradually transforms into a static beast. he’s able to stick his head in televisions.

november: he turns into a full beast. he goes with lamb to the lake and tears his mouth apart. after this, his file is corrupted and system resets him completely. he wakes up looking human. he is not human. he has turned into a full alternate capable of changing form. he has some family issues with mark and starts becoming more distant. sometime in november, we’re introduced to randy, a ghost that wears a party hat and that dave considers annoying. he doesn’t hold much relevance outside of a few appearances, but is important enough to mention here. dave decides to move out of thatcher’s house, and finds a landlord. this landlord is johnson, who is planning to kill him. dave is completely oblivious to this kidnapping until johnson straight up tells him. he becomes a weird alternate and eats an entire fucking mountain lion just to spite johnson. johnson manipulates dave into using the system to turn himself human. this fails, and dave dies after entity is ripped from his body. brutus, in an attempt to stop dave from permanently dying, brings him back as a ghost. now horribly lethargic and trapped in the spirit realm, he grows more miserable by the day.

december: dave tries to move on, but is convinced to stick around for the sake of his loved ones. he speaks to system for the first time, and starts becoming more aware of its presence, even talking back to it on occasion. he possesses thatcher and falls into a (completely normal) ghost coma for a few days. entity, still in the living world, communes with the audience. it is revealed to have gone to dashcon (???). dave learns more about the current status of his family and gets sad. he goes with el to explore the spirit world a bit and meets wilbur, who tells him about the possibility of being revived. he goes with him, and ends up in a courtroom of the gods. after pleading for a bit and being thrown out for a couple minutes, he’s brought back in and told he can be brought back to life - with the condition that he come back with several curses (all animals that don’t know him will attack him on sight, he will suffer horrible nightmares every night, people around him will feel tired constantly).

(note. sometime around the time of the revival, he switches from he/him to any/all. the wording will change to reflect this.)

upon waking up, they realize a few things: 1, he’s stuck in a random landfill in yonder county; 2, she’s been rotting here for quite some time now; 3, their corpse is missing a few limbs following the first death + removal of system assistance. tech leaves the landfill, breaks into an abandoned store, and gets some of the remaining blood cleaned up. dial drives to thatcher’s house and reunites with him, officially moving in shortly after. he sees entity for the first time since the separation, and afterwards, passes out in the snow. the gods begin watching him at this point, sending down different animals and items to do so. thatcher and dave go out into the (mostly empty) mandela city for a day or two. dave tries and fails to make a new arm for themself. johnson breaks into the davis household and dave learns that johnson left dave’s missing arm at the doorstep. after being slapped for this, thatcher agrees to help her find it again. they do, and dave has to be convinced not to attach the horrifically rotted arm back on. dave notices the rot beginning but pays no attention to it. he gets a checkup from a doctor and comes back with a laundry list of ailments, as well as a prosthetic leg that she decides not to use due to it being uncomfortable. dave asks about the wellbeing of his alternates, and dirk mentions his fish bait shop. dave falls asleep and we meet tony rigatoni, who sets dave adrift in a lake on a sofa. he wakes up utterly confused. the cat ray appears again, and mcpdtech is turned into cats for the following month. during this time, dave meets o’brien, gets yelled at by the doctor jo, and hangs out with lamb. system makes itself more present during this time. the year ends with him turning back to normal.

#tmcblr

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discodeviant · 2 years

Text

Not Duke, Not Prince - Part 3

Billy | Teen | 1k words Alternate Canon/Divergence

Made for @billyhargrovebingo! Prev. | Part 1

“A lion.”

Billy squirmed under Hopper’s icy gaze, though it was warmer than he let on. It sounded stupid when he said it like that, deadpan and tired, bored if Billy closed his eyes and listened. But he kept his eyes open, looking between the flat ceiling and the hat twirling in the Chief’s hand. “Yes, a lion, I’ve said that twelve times.”

“You hit a lion with your car.”

“It fucking ran in front of me!”

Billy took a deep breath, and then Hopper continued: “Hey, I’m not trying to piss you off, alright? You’re sure it wasn’t a mountain lion.”

“Christ, I’m sure. Probably escaped a zoo or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Well, I might agree if our zoo had an African lion, but it doesn’t, and the one that does still has it contained. So forgive my confusion.”

“I wasn’t on drugs, man.”

“You’ve also said that twelve times.”

“It’s true!”

“Then why were you driving around so late? You said, what, eleven at night? By yourself?”

Billy stilled and wished he were ten sizes smaller so Hopper would stop looking at him like that. Suspicious and crass, Billy hated that look. It reminded him too much of Neil. “Just getting out of the house,” he said, which wasn’t untrue.

“On a school night.”

“I graduated.”

“No job?”

“Fuck’s sake, Chief, what do you wanna hear? That I was sneaking out to buy heroin?”

“Were you?”

“No!” He moved his arm so fast that the IV nearly slipped right out, and Hopper held both hands up like he was taming a wildcat. Billy licked his molar, breathed a little, rolled his eyes, and said like it was a confession, “I had a date, okay?” In some ways, it was. Or it would have been if Hopper knew the whole story that dated back to San Diego, to the day his mother left, to the day he was born. There were days when Billy didn’t remember her name at all, only the face that disappeared along with every atom of hope he had left. In the time since, her golden hair turned rusty in his memory, but her eyes were still haunting. They were when she was alive too.

Hopper’s hands moved into a more inviting gesture. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? What’s her name?” Billy side-eyed him. “It was a her, right?”

“Yeah.” Another thing that made his stomach twist. “Just some chick from high school, alright, it doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, then you can tell me her name.”

He didn’t think too hard about it. “Nina Herrera.” Hopper nodded, still unimpressed.

“Easier when you don’t wanna strangle me, isn’t it?”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He stood up and put his hat back on, straightening his cop-slacks as he cleared his throat. “Alright, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

Billy clearly didn’t come off as seriously as he hoped he would, asking, “I’m not done with you yet?” because Hopper laughed and shook his head.

“No, you’re not. Get some rest, kid.”

So he did.

Susan took Max to visit him after school, and Billy wished she hadn’t when he saw the look on Max’s face. She’d made it fourteen years without looking death in the eyes, and here she was, holding back tears for a step-brother who thought he’d be better off that way regardless. Susan left them alone; Max walked straight to the love seat to put her skateboard and backpack down, not having left it in the car for reasons Billy couldn’t begin to entertain. Standing by the hospital bed, hair frazzled and clothes uneven, she looked like a little kid.

“I’m okay, Max,” Billy said, because they’d been getting along fine since the summer. The relief of minuscule financial freedom made him less tense, working as an indoor pool boy during the winter months. It meant that Max wasn’t his void to scream into anymore, which meant things could resemble normal.

“No you’re not, asshole.” Her voice trembled with her hands, and Billy didn’t blame her. The gauze on his head was probably bled through, but otherwise he was unscathed, save for whatever head trauma he endured to think he’d seen a fucking lion. Maybe Hopper was right. Maybe it was a cougar after all.

“C’mon, I’ve been worse.” The sentiment was lighthearted, but she still shoved his thigh and hissed at him not to say that. He knew she’d seen worse as it happened and been the one to take care of it afterwards, but that was routine; that was something she’d gotten used to over the years. Billy was still home blasting music in his room, or she would hear the car outside if he was coming back. He made it to breakfast every morning because it was the most normal he could get.

“The nurse said you can come home in a couple days,” she said, and neither could quite decide whether that was a good thing or not. Billy would prefer his own bed to the hospital mattress, but the nurses were better than Neil. He’d have preferred Susan’s cooking, but hospital slop was better than blood.

“I’m sure I will. C’mere.” A weak hand reached out for Max to slip into, kneeling on the floor as Billy rubbed her back, combed through her hair with stiff fingers. Having another heartbeat so close to his made him feel strangely human again, not what remained of one. She was there. She cared about him, and he desperately needed to know that.

Max stayed at the hospital with him for a long while, reading to him and reluctantly letting him help with her homework. Neil and Susan were probably glad to get them both out of their hair, so they didn’t pick her up until ten. Susan brought some of his things so he wouldn’t be so bored by himself—his Walkman, a few books, his own shower supplies. Neil waited in his truck outside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy,” Max told him with one last hug. He kissed her temple, and she rubbed it right off, but they both laughed about it as she left.

In the shower, which he convinced the nurse he didn’t need her help for—he wondered when he’d gotten so hairy.

Part 4

Uh oh, someone’s testosterone is working overdrive— unless… 🫣👀

#.discowrites #stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #jim hopper #chief hopper #max mayfield #st3 #fanfic #billy hargrove bingo

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troutfur · 2 years

Note

ooooh i’m interested in berry/honey/lion and SKYCLAN GRAY WING?? love seeing love for my dotc dad And the best clan in the universe

YESSS! Two very great choices!

Berry/Honey/Lion is all fluff. I wanted more polyamorous ship fics out there and along the way I wanted to satisfy my desire of seeing more queens with huge litters. Why do the Erins always stop at 4? Why can't we ever have queens with 5, 6, 7, or even 8 kits in a litter? It's about halfway written and it's all about the new parents coming to terms with just how many children they've just had. 7 in total, because that for some reason sounds like the number of children Lionblaze should have.

SkyClan Graywing is all about this alternate timeline in which Bright Stream didn't die to the eagle. As a result, Gray Wing and Clear Sky don't grow apart in the trip down the mountain and become much more of parental figures to their little brother Jagged Peak. When the time comes to vote on whether to stay on the moor or move to the forest, Gray Wing follows his brothers. From then on, the story is all about Gray Wing making sure to reign in his brother and preventing him from being as much of a jerk as in canon.

#warrior cats #wc #warrior cats au #berrynose #honeyfern #lionblaze #clear sky #skystar #gray wing #skyclan

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juleshollow · 1 year

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Episode 1

(Spoilers. TW: death, horror)

Jules survived the nightmare scenario of a creepy stranger talking to her non-stop for hours in the bus, refused to take his boiled peanuts (I’d never trust any food or drink from him) and arrived to Scarlet Hollow. The town her mother had fled from years ago. She was picked up by her cousin Tabitha, who was cold from the very start. Jules felt uncomfortable but behaved politely, giving her condolences and offering to help with the funeral planning if needed.

When they got to the Scarlet house, Jules was shocked by the decrepit state of the mansion, but only made a comment about the architectural style not to be rude to her host. The food supply in the kitchen was another unpleasant surprise – Jules was not willing to live off PB&J for a week, so she asked about a place to get groceries in town. When leaving the kitchen she asked about the cat, Frou-Frou, but respected her boundaries and didn’t try to pet her. It made her think of her own cat Murphy waiting for her at home, and she wished Frou-Frou would let her pet her at some point.

Then Tabitha showed her the bathroom and Jules went from annoyed to incredulously angry. It was disgusting, it didn’t even make sense how awful it was. If no one cleaned it, one would expect to find a layer of dirt maybe, but why throw stuff to the floor and leave garbage around? Jules didn’t even try it – she mentioned that it was filthy and decided to look for alternatives elsewhere when Tabitha said she couldn’t use any of the other bathrooms. She was getting pissed.

Thankfully, the guest room was fine. After completing the tour, Tabitha said she had to leave, and Jules found out she owned the local coal mine. When her cousin made one nasty comment too many, Jules finally stopped her and asked what was with the attitude (you asked me to come here Tabitha!). Tabitha agreed that she had been rude and apologized, so Jules let it go. She still hoped to have a good relationship with her cousin and maybe Tabitha was just dealing with too much at the moment.

Jules settled in and investigated the house and garden for a while (found an opossum in her drawer! She let it be and just put her clothes in a different drawer) and then she head to town. She didn’t go to the forbidden wing because she wasn’t keen on falling through the moldy floors.

In town she met Stella and her wonderful elderly pug, Gretchen! Stella was super nice and Jules quickly felt at ease with her, which was greatly appreciated. However, she would soon feel uncomfortable again, because everyone stared at her when they entered the diner together. Jules quietly slid into her booth with Stella, but she couldn’t help but overhear everyone gossip about her. On the bright side, Stella treated her to a f a n t a s t i c biscuit and a coffee, and she met Avery. Jules felt relieved to meet another friendly person and had fun talking to them and Stella about her youtube channel. Stella showed her one of her most famous videos and Jules immediately clocked the creature as a mountain lion, though Stella didn’t believe her. In the end, Stella invited Jules to accompany her to the woods to film a cryptid video about "skunk ape". In truth, Jules didn’t really believe in supernatural stuff, but she agreed right away. She loved hiking in nature, she was having fun with this girl and she didn’t have anything else to do. She was actually quite relieved to see that she could probably make plans with Stella (and her friends, apparently!) from time to time before the funeral.

Jules and Stella went along, and Jules felt strangely calm when she got a glimpse of the scenery. Weirdly, it felt like she was right where she was supposed to be. She didn’t linger on that thought and focused on the conversation with Stella – they were really getting along. She was just very easy to talk to, and Jules felt grateful to have come across someone cool to just talk about aliens and weird stuff.

Then Duke showed up with his shotgun, looking to hunt the mountain lion that supposedly was eating his chickens, and told the girls to go away. Stella wanted to just take a different trail to avoid him, but Jules didn’t like the risk of potentially getting shot by accident. However, there was no shaking Stella. At least she told Jules that Duke was very loud, so they would hear him coming. Jules wasn’t convinced, but it calmed her down a little.

They filmed and chatted a bit before a deer with a swollen face gave them a scare. They theorized that it could be a cyst and were a bit creeped out by the poor animal. But they let it go and focused on Stella’s homemade snacks (snack bar!). They sat and just talked about their lives for a while. It was nice. Jules talked about her small apartment and how she was saving for something better, and she ended up telling Stella about her doubts about her career in law. Stella opened up too and they bonded over the shared experience of having lost their parents.

Then the spooky stuff started.

The girls heard weird noises that none of them could explain and everything else went quiet. They went to investigate and saw one of Duke’s chickens… but only for a second, because a small, lumpy hand dragged it out of their sight. What was that? They followed it and Stella ended up tripping over the bird. This time they could get a better view… and they were horrified to find a big growth in its body. Jules thought it looked like some sort of parasite and shuddered. Something was squirming inside. Suddenly, Duke appeared and found his chicken. Jules wouldn’t have thought that the man would be so attached to it, she kind of assumed that he was just worried about his livestock as his source of livelihood, but she quickly realized that Duke truly loved the bird. It broke her heart to see him cry and call to his Bertie. Meanwhile, they were being surrounded by strange whispers from the trees. Jules could feel the pressure, she was getting scared. Duke marched towards the trees to shoot at the creatures and demanded Jules took the flashlight to help him make a good shot. But Jules felt Gretchen slipping away from her harness and instinctively dove to take her before she ran away.

And then tragedy finally struck.

Duke aimed at a creature, but he tripped and shot himself by accident. Jules and Stella heard the gunshot, turned to Duke… and found him dead, lying against a tree with half of his head blown off. Stella was fast to point the flashlight away from the gruesome sight and asked about what to do in a panic, but Jules barely heard her. She stood in stunned silence, taking in the horror of what had happened. Stella realized her companion was at a loss and decided to take action and go after the creatures to get more footage. Jules was so out of it that she didn’t even process the danger in Stella’s proposal and – against her careful nature – she found herself following Stella deeper into the woods.

They wound up in a place out of a horror movie: the creatures’ nest. It was full of dead animals, all with the same kind of parasitic growths. It was also full of the creatures. They stood all around them, watching them menacingly. Jules finally snapped out of it and realized the stupid situation they had put themselves in, so she immediately took Stella away from there. They ran through the forest together, trying to ignore the creatures and their awful whispers behind them.

They made it. When they got out, Jules realized her cousin had called her over and over while she was without reception in the woods. She felt guilty for making her worry and tried calling her back. When Tabitha didn’t pick up, she left her a text telling her that she was okay. It was better than nothing.

Stella called the cops, but they were anything but helpful. They didn’t take any of what had happened seriously and, to Jules’ amazement, they said they wouldn’t retrieve Duke’s body until the next day. Were they insane?? Did they not think about what animals could do to him in the meantime? Or… those creatures. But they showed off their incompetence and even implied that Jules, as a stranger, might have been to blame. Jules couldn’t believe it, but there wasn’t much they could do about it, so they let the policemen take them to Stella’s house. Stella was tense and acted very uncharacteristically during the ride. Jules didn’t know what had caused the change in her behaviour, so she just placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

When the heroic cops left, Stella suggested to visit someone who might know more about the creatures. If there’s something Jules loves to have, it’s more information, so she agreed. They went to Stella’s acquaintance’s house, but before they opened the door, Jules realized someone was watching them. She turned to find a strange man behind them. He welcomed Jules by name, and she could feel her blood freeze. But an older woman, Sybil, opened the door and send him way. “Wayne” disappeared.

Sybil let Jules and Stella inside, where Jules recognized a few medicinal plants that could also be poisonous. She asked about Wayne, but Sybil didn’t give her a straight answer. Stella wanted to show her the footage, so they went to Sybil’s daughter Kaneeka to ask for her computer. After watching the creatures on tape, Jules shared that she believed the creatures used living beings as part of their living cycle, injecting their parasitic offspring in them. Kaneeka seemed like a very rational person and agreed with Jules’ biological explanation instead of the supernatural story of her mother. But Sybil said she knew the creatures. She called them ditchlings: they were an omen that something terrible would happen.

Jules walked Stella back to her house. When they got there, Stella offered Jules to stay the night. Jules felt super relieved, she was tired and traumatized, and the perspective of sleeping in a normal house with the friendly Stella seemed much more attractive than walking back to the decrepit mansion alone.

As soon as she saw Stella’s cozy guest room she knew she had made the right call. She thanked her for her consideration and called Tabitha to let her know that she wouldn’t go to the state that night. Her cousin was angry at her and inexplicably didn’t seem to care when Jules told her that she had seen a man die that night. Tabitha hanged up on her, and Jules began to accept that her cousin was kind of an asshole.

That was Jules’ first day in Scarlet Hollow. The town that had been waiting for her.

#scarlet hollow #scarlethollow #scarlet hollow oc #black tabby games #stella richmond #tabitha scarlet #sybil forsyth #sam wayne #kaneeka forsyth

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sleepysigh · 2 years

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On a Review of Men (2022) by Youtuber Acolytes of Horror

I just watched a video regarding some of the thematic and cinematographic choices in the film Men, which you can watch here. Spoilers for Men (2022) and warnings for gore, jump scares, abuse, misogyny, etc etc it's a horror movie called Men, you get it.

I thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed the reviewer's expertise and reading of the film, especially through the lense of poetry.

However… There was a moment in the video I felt I had to respond to, regarding the string of intense and surreal images near the end of the film and the odd choices made by both the protagonist and antagonist(s). The Acolytes of Horror didn't understand why she seemed numb, slow, strangely compliant, strangely chill with all of it.

He didn't understand why we see a decaying deer, either. Some other things were thought provoking as well. So, I wrote mine down because I do my best thinking by writing, and I might as well share them.

The answer to your huge, central "why" is hiding on the tongue of every woman who has ever been in an abusive relationship. These feelings, especially in the cycle they're shown, are what women genuinely feel through their lives from men. It's very straightforward.

The weaponization of love by a man who cannot solve his own emotional problems without the service of an unwilling woman who once (and maybe still) loved/loves him is the first formative experience many women have with a romantic partner. The residual trauma and fear after he victimizes her in one of the worst ways a person can, this is carried in many of us.

The recognition of this impulse in men all around you, this subtle exertion of control, this unspoken threat driven by entitlement you can't understand, shapes your perception. They all might as well be the same predator if, despite carrying themselves differently and wearing different clothing, they all take the same actions -- they affect you, threaten you, challenge your safety in EXACTLY the same way.You play minesweeper and flag them and leave.

And then the fear. The ones who stare at you, who chase you, who don't want to LET you leave. They are naked and in nature, from nature, because they belong there; they are animalistic. Theirs is an ancient, devolved violence, not so different from a vestigial limb. Why the deer image? If you have been near a man in this state, you know they are like a deer with wasting disease: not yet dead but certainly no longer recognizably the same living creature. They may be violent, they may spread their poison to others, they may be harmless.

Have you ever interacted with or seen such a deer? They stumble jerkily from the woods sometimes and ram themselves into cars, sometimes they do it repeatedly until they die. They are deer, but they do not behave like any deer you have ever seen. Men infected with toxic masculinity, with such powerful entitlement over women that it drives them to justify violence and physical violation, they are the same thing to us, just this time it's our own species. She might as well have been stalked in the woods by a mountain lion, and it would have been naked too because it too would have seen no need for dignity or subterfuge. That's the whole point.

The rapid images towards the end that grow more and more surreal, in which she makes strange choices and allows herself to be hurt or endangered, well… Consider how you would react if you realized your lover had rabies, wanted to destroy you, but was pretending not to. What else would you doubt about your fundamental understanding of reality? Wouldn't you disbelieve, at least for a moment, searching for some other explanation, some solution, some alternative, something?

Have you ever sat at the foot of a bed while someone a foot taller with 50lbs of muscle more than you have who once lifted you weightless in their arms and promised to love you to their last breath shouts at the top of their lungs that you are a liar, a bitch, worthless, stupid, pathetic because you interrupted their video game time? Have you had someone give you a gift and then destroy it in front of you after judging that the thanks you gave were not effusive enough, telling you this wouldn't happen if you weren't so stuck up and ungrateful? Have you ever been chased by a wild carnivorous animal that has a key to your house, access to your bank account, and has spent the last two years subtly making your friends believe you are untrustworthy?

The confusion that slowly reduces fear to disgust, disappointment, paralysis, numbness, and lack of self-preservation is precisely, EXACTLY what it feels like to be abused by a man you trust. Especially a romantic partner you have been with for a long time and admired. The mewling entitlement, as you put it, makes some men behave so ridiculously that you stop feeling plain fear and begin to feel unreal. If it's a man you love, you don't just run like you would from a stranger. Why is he doing this? Is he sick? Did something happen? Why is he accusing me of something I didn't do? He said he liked to hear my opinions, but now he's calling me a nag. Why? Why? What happened? Did I do something?

It didn't used to be this way, so it must be possible to fix it. He loves me. He gave me gifts and made me happy in the past. We have plans for the future. I owe it to him to stay. I can do things I don't like if it will really make him happy. I can forgive him if he really didn't mean it. I can help him understand. I can help him come back to himself. He didn't mean to do all this. We're going to find out why this happened together and then we'll be a team again.

I don't think it's coincidental that her moment of no-self-preservation happens after he stuns her by forcing his seed into her mouth. The theft of her voice is only the first step in the attempted theft and ultimate destruction of her will, her self. The infectious entitlement doesn't make women behave the same way, but if they believe it even a little, it makes them compliant, doesn't it? It makes them try again with men who will hurt them, doesn't it? And it takes physical violence to bring her back to self-preservation, as it so often does for us, too.

And at last when she is frozen watching him, now that he has finally stopped pursuing for a moment and has something to show her, now that he seems weak and really in need of her… With the last of the goodwill she has, that little flame that women carry so well no matter how men try to drown it, she remains watching and learning. Even to this moment, in her heart of hearts, if she knew for absolute certain it would never happen again, that he had a good reason after all, that he was sorry, that he truly loved her, even to this moment she would forgive him. (Such is the magnificence of the curse placed on women as we are today, that this extraordinary gift is ours to offer, and yet men never seem to qualify.)

Now she, and you, find out your big why. Other men. Other men hurt him. Other men insulted him. Other men neglected him. Other men infected him with their entitlement. Other men told him he needed her and how to use her. Other men told him he was nothing if he couldn't capture and keep her. Other men told him she was polite and he could use that. Other men told him she was caring and he could use that. They told him she was alone. They told him try hunting in the woods. They told him it would still be enough, still make things right, if when she denied him for the final time, he made her believe she killed him herself.

And here he is sweating and grunting with the pain of what other men have done, and the pain of doing it to them, and he looks to her. All this could be avoided if she just capitulated. All this suffering, she could stop it, if only she would love him. Does she want him to keep killing himself because of her? Can't she see it's her fault? Can't she see she's responsible for cleaning up this mess and helping him feel better? Doesn't she want to just make everything okay?

But it's reminiscent of real birth in an insulting way. It's reminiscent of men who "help" do dishes by running the washer with the cups facing up and your favorite mug chipped to pieces in the lower rack. It's a fetid, pathetic imitation of what women are able to do, and it mocks their ability by comparing itself to them. All this misery swallowed by fathers and regurgitated into the mouths of boys, and instead of innocence and new life, instead of hope and potential, instead of something from almost nothing, all you can make is a dying predator? He wants her to help him through the process as if he is giving her the gift of life, but all he can breed is fear.

So she looks down with well-earned disgust and scoffs, not just because he's wrong. Not just because he's selfish, trying to avoid fixing his own problems by pawning them on her, but because she finally knows that he is so clueless he could never understand what he is or what he's doing even if she explained it. She finally cannot love him anymore. It wasn't a misunderstanding; he is simply disgusting, after all. The image of him beginning to strangle her with he hand she mangled protecting herself from him is such a powerful metaphor for the weaponization of guilt and how disgusting it really is.

He has been nursing the infection for a long time and didn't seek professional help. (As in real life, why pay a therapist when you can force your wife to work through it all with you and bear it all alone.) Just like the deer with wasting disease, the symptoms show, it is too late. The animal is already dead. All you can do is kill it mercifully.

Of course, you have to try and avoid getting its brains on anything when it dies, or that too will become noxious with infection. As poetic images go, I am reminded of the many manifestos of such infected men, preserved and circulated as they are in putrid cultural sinkholes where men still voluntarily use such material to infect themselves and others.

In that moment she does not see a man, she sees a carcass. She sees rot wearing the face of someone she loves, mindlessly pursuing her capture and destruction without any true logic behind it. Refusing to understand that only YOU can kill yourself. Only men can protect men from this. Socially, culturally, we can find many why's. We spend a great deal of talking about what is and is not a "why". But for her, in this moment, with this man she has cared for, she discovered the truth as it pertains to her: there is no why.

There is no why that has a single thing to do with her, personally. It's not something she did. It's not something she is. It's not a habit she has. It's not because she doesn't have sex as often, she put on a little weight, she cut her hair, she gets crabby doing dishes after work. He's rotten inside from something that came long, long before she was even born. He has been gone for a long time. There was never going to be anything she could do.

The disgust for this thing in front of you, the decaying shell of something pretending to be a person you loved, which will continue to do so even after you are gone, one way or another, is indescribable. The relief, the happiness to discover that you did not do this, the soaring freedom to refuse your love, is sublime.

Words are just another vector for infection, so the disease makes its victim tell her she did not give him enough love, not what she owes him, but she has seen how he got to be this way now. She knows the why of history. She knows there isn't a why that could fit between them on this couch, and it wasn't actually her job to uncover it, and she is not losing a loved one or a teammate or a future because the person she planned her future with is already gone and may have never existed.

James's terrible wounds, even his arm, are the product of the choice and beliefs of men. Who but men would make him think he could grab her that way and escape harm? They are part of something that has absolutely no idea who she is. It was just searching for a woman in order to manifest its next stage of symptoms. It seeks a woman because without at least one son, it cannot propagate. It seeks any woman for prestige, or comfort, or self-esteem from having one.

As much as the men could have been the same man over and over, she could have been any woman at all and it wouldn't have changed a thing. James didn't look like the Man to her. He fooled her that way. She didn't know to flag him and keep sweeping, that's all.

But now she knows. Now she knows the rules of the game, and more importantly, she knows that men for the most part DON'T. They don't know why they're doing what they're doing. They don't know they've been infected and are becoming lost inside the rot of toxic entitlement that has taken hold in their minds. They don't know she doesn't have to keep playing the same game. They never thought it necessary to know her at all.

When you've taken enough abuse and finally have a moment of clarity about your situation, especially if he leaves you and expects you to take an ego blow and come crawling back, you experience this moment of freeing joy. You can just log off. It never mattered what you did, and this isn't different. Everyone's gotten a game over in minesweeper, even SO close to winning. Hell, aren't there a lot of people who never win minesweeper and just decide to stop playing anyway?

You thought he changed. You thought you had to hold on as the chaos tried to separate you. You wondered if you had changed, whether you should change, whether he had changed you. Now you see that he has not changed at all, and there is no reason to think he will. He will still be the same mountain lion, stalking you on sight, pursuing you to capture and annihilate you. But you don't have to treat him like someone you love, or respect, or owe anything.

You remember suddenly that false premise you had: if he changed, we can change him back. You could change yourself back. You could be the woman who first met him, who didn't need a thing from him, who was living and breathing and worthy of serenity all the same.

You can disappear. You can escape. You don't have to date again, if you don't want to. You don't have to get married or move in with someone. You have friends who can drive you where you need to go to start playing an entirely different game. You can make every man who pursues you keep his distance as long as you like, and you can always, always get your freedom back when you need it.

This whole deal he has going on, this scream and crying and violence and threats of suicide and GUILT GUILT GUILT thing? It has nothing to do with you! The meaningless noises of a sick animal. And now that you can look back and see the trail of burned bridges and salted earth he's left behind, you're happy to let him enmesh himself in nature. Sick things in nature get better or they die, and either way they can't hurt you anymore as long as you keep away.

Let him go to his forest and stalk in circles, drooling aimlessly with no woman to pursue. Soon enough he will come to his senses, or he will starve. He might eventually lie down for good and feed the trees whose leaves you admired so serenely in the cloudy sunshine as a balm for your grief and confusion.

He never has to matter to you again. No man does. You were good, and you deserved none of it, and now you can leave it behind you. Nothing compares to the final moment when you reach up and slip the rope from your own neck, laughing bittersweetly to know you could have done it any time.

#horror #abuse #cinematography #poetry #excellent review #elegant representation of a good man with a blind spot for women's experiences

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years

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The Reaper | Jungkook x Reader

Pairing: Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Murder, Lots of Blood, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jungkook), Mild Smut, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Decapitation, Throats are Slit, Wolf Attacks

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: “With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

When he removed the faux stamp beads of blood rose to the surface of your skin, blending with the red ink that has been left behind. But the image imprinted on your skin was clear as day, a symbol your town had come to associate with fear: a skull pierced by a sword and ensnared by a snake. It was the mark of the reaper.

You had been marked for death.”

A/N: Here I am at almost three in the morning again lol. This is super UNEDITED but I will edit it tomorrow so please bear with me when it comes to any grammatical errors. I HUSTLED to get this done before classes start Monday so hopefully the quality did not suffer. This also ended up being 4-6k longer than intended. Very on brand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜

It was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but your stomach was twisted in knots.

You were one of the lucky ones, at least that was what your father had told you when he excitedly grabbed hold of your hands with a winning smile.

“A diamond in the rough,” He had whispered in awe, “How lucky I am to have had such a beautiful daughter born out of this village.”

It is true that none of us have a say as to what family we are born into, and that couldn’t be any more true for you. You were born into a poor family in a dilapidated village in the woods, you had been destined to live a destitute life like everyone else who had come before you. But you were happy. You enjoyed your spring days running barefoot through the Brooke, the lingering heat of summer nights beneath the stars, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, and the bite of cold winter wind against your cheeks. You adored the simplicity of the only life you had ever known and you never wanted for more.

But oftentimes, parents desired more for their children, more than they ever had. And that was why your father had jumped at the chance to marry you off to a visiting lord.

Had you not entered the forest that day to forage, maybe you would not have ended up in this situation. But you had so there was no point in dwelling on the alternate possibilities of what could have come to pass rather than what actually had.

~~~~~~~

You had always been warned about the danger of the woods growing up, but those warnings had been about wolves, bears, and mountain lions. There had been one dangerous animal you had ignored, one you walked amongst every day: men.

You had been sitting down in the soft grass, your legs folded beneath you at the knee as you carefully plucked berries from the bush, your cupped palms pouring them into the basket beside you when he had approached. At first, you considered that you had been so focused you had not heard him follow you, but you soon came to understand that he had been perfectly silent - his body so trained to move in stealth that even the woods would not give him away.

A firm arm wrapping around your waist and the cool glide of metal against your throat startled a shriek from you as your body flinched back only causing you to corral yourself into his arms, your back pressed against his solid chest as the knife posed at your neck barred you from moving.

You panted in fright, your eyes clenching shut as you felt his lips brush over the shell of your ear while he hushed you and cooed like you were a little injured animal.

“Stay still, little lamb, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, his voice low and rhythmic as he spoke a language you had no way of understanding.

“I don’t understand,” You said after an uncomfortable swallow, your neck tense beneath the blade of the knife.

“There are many things you can’t understand, not yet, the hunt hasn’t begun.” He said with an amused chuckle.

The humor was lost on you, his words nothing more than a jumbled mess of sounds strung together that you were unable to decipher. His actions though, were readable. You jerked in surprise as his knifeless hand slid down your body, tugging your layers of skirts up over your knees and not stopping there.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You cried, your legs kicking frantically as you grabbed his forearm and tried to still it.

You were quick to learn that he was incredibly strong as your grasp did nothing to dissuade him. Another laugh vibrated through his chest and against your back, he was clearly amused by your thrashing which only served to send chills down your spine. He pressed the blade harder against your skin, the metal just barely piercing the soft, vulnerable flesh causing your body to go rigid in fear that he would slit your throat.

“Good girl,” He hummed, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheekbone in what felt like an almost affectionate gesture. “Be still,”

With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

You had been marked for death.

A pained cry of devastation filled the forest, a sound that had unwillingly left you that was not unlike the call of a wounded animal. Out of everyone in your village, why had you been chosen to die? Who would have paid the hefty price to target a quiet village girl?

You knew what came next, you were going to be hunted down. That was what they did - they marred the flesh of their victim so that they could find them if by some miracle they had found a way to run away. And that meant the runner would have an entire band of reapers on their tail, chasing them until they grew too tired to continue running and were unwillingly dispatched - their soul severed from the body in one fell swoop of a blade.

You weren’t going to survive this, no one ever did. And why would you be the exception?

The reaper behind you hummed in what he attempted to make a soothing manner as he lowered his knife from your throat, the hand that once held the horrific stamp was now freely caressing your arm in short smooth strokes.

“Did it hurt that badly, little lamb?” He whispered in what you now knew to be the coded language of the reapers.

There was no way you would ever be able to understand what he was saying and he knew that so why did he bother speaking to you in his language at all? Why didn’t he speak the villages’ language? At least then you could understand what he was planning to do to you, and your wild imagination was only frightening you more than what he had done so far.

His fingers brushed your tears away, they were long, nimble, and calloused, the perfect tools to wield an arsenal of weaponry but were instead attempting to soothe you. You were utterly confused.

“Don’t cry, this is a happy day, you’ll see that soon I promise you.” He spoke softly, his hands gently cupping your face and allowing you to face him as his thumbs continued to swipe the tears away.

Your vision was blurry making it difficult to identify him, your body still shaking with frightened hiccups. You could make out the honey hue of his smooth skin and the dark strokes of coal around his eyes as well as the black leather and linen that covered his body. You could tell that he was young and most definitely strong, his linens straining against the cords of muscle that built his shoulders. Even with your limited vision, you were able to tell that he was perfectly sculpted to be a reaper, a hired killer to whoever offered the highest price.

His fingers lightly traced down the length of your jaw before freezing, his entire body stiffening like he had heard something you were not able to hear. And you were exactly right, he had heard the incoming party of hunters.

You heard him unsheathe his sword before you had seen it, the sound of metal slicing through the air as he wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

It took a moment before you heard it, but the sound of hooves was unmistakable. And, a few short seconds later, the first horse broke through the trees before being followed by a band of its fellows. Seated astride the first horse was a man that was near your father’s age, his clothing refined and expensive along with the gold and jeweled rings that covered his fingers. And the sigil he bore on his horse was enough to confirm your suspicions - he was the lord of the land.

Your body sagged in relief and, as a result, relaxed against the strong chest of your captor whose grip only tightened further. You were going to be saved.

“Release the girl, or suffer the consequences.” The Lord spoke, his voice still and commanding.

The man behind you was motionless, his breathing steady and calm despite the massive hunting party that was armed to the teeth staring him down.

“I won’t tell you again,” The lord called, and with that, his men raised their bows and notched their arrows - all waiting for the command to fire.

The reaper leaned forward, his warm breath beside your ear as he whispered the only words he has been permitted to say, “When the time comes, I will find you.”

And with that, he threw a small pouch with lightning speed, the fabric unraveling as it met the ground and releasing a massive and unrelenting stream of dark plumes of smoke blinding everyone in its vicinity - giving him the perfect cover to slip away.

Your eyes teared up as the smoke cleared, whatever powder had ignited had greatly irritated your eyes and filled your lungs with smoke causing the hunting party and yourself to violently cough away the burning sensation in your throats and chests.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you recovered from the unexpected attack. You were shocked that you were alive more than anything else. It had been a twist of fate and a shot of luck that a highborn had traveled this far into the land and because of that, you were alive. But for how much longer, you were unaware. The mark on your thigh still stung, demanding its presence be known. With that mark, you were as good as dead. No, you were a walking corpse - it was only a matter of time before the reapers came for you.

The sudden appearance of a hand before your face startled you back to reality causing you to fall back onto your rear in an embarrassing display of clumsiness.

It was him, Lord Ilseong.

“Are you unharmed?” He asked, concern heavy in his eyes.

You gratefully took his hand and allowed him to help you to your feet before bowing your head to him and bending at the knee in a show of respect, your eyes trained to the ground.

“Thank you,” Your voice wavered, heavy with emotion, “You saved my life, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Lord Ilseong hummed in appreciation at the sight of your submission, “How unusual, someone of your status who understands etiquette.”

Your blood warmed in irritation from his remark, despite the heroic actions he was like every other highborn of the land. They saw the people of your village as uncouth, dirty, and uneducated. You were surprised he hadn’t wiped his hand after helping you up.

You flinched in surprise as your chin was held still once more today by his hand. The creases around his eyes deepened as he smiled, turning your head from side to side to appraise you.

“Why you don’t look like the common peasantry at all,” He said with an amused grin and lecherous eyes, “In fact, you are quite the beauty.”

“Thank you, my lord,” You forced the words out from a strained smile. You knew better than to disrespect a high born, lest your head would be swiftly removed and your family slaughtered from your careless wrath.

One of the firmest lessons you had learned had been how to control your anger. Village people were expendable and you were not special.

“Well trained,” He mused before releasing you from his hold, “I think I know just how you can repay me, my dear.”

You were suddenly struck by the thought that you had escaped one dangerous trap only to wander into another.

Lord Ilseong and his men had escorted you back home. The entire process was quite the spectacle, especially for the village people as you returned astride the horse of the lord of the land. He had helped you up and sat you directly in front of him, his one hand holding the reigns and the other settled on your waist. It had put you in an uncomfortable position, you couldn’t pull away from his wandering touch or you would tumble off of the horse. You had nearly collapsed in relief upon returning to your shack, your body slipping down the side of the horse and making for the front door in record time.

Your stomach turned when he followed you inside. He had greeted your father enthusiastically who in turn fell to his knees in a deep bow. You rushed to his side and slid your arms beneath his, helping him rise back up to his feet.

It was then that the horrible deal was made.

“I have saved your daughter’s life and in turn, I expect to be repaid.” He said after he recounted the tale of your rescue to your father.

“Repaid, my lord?” Your father asked, his voice wavering in fright, “I am afraid there isn’t much we lowly peasants could offer you.”

“It is not money I require, nor land, nor tax,”

“Then…what more could you request?”

“Your daughter’s hand, assuming she is untouched of course.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as soon as his words met your ears. Lord Ilseong was not much younger than your father, in fact, you were certain that had your father not been subjected to decades of hard labor he would not look as aged as he did now, his stature would resemble that of his lords’.

The sickness that brewed in your stomach was only made worse by the elation present on your father’s face. You could tell what he was thinking, being the father of the lady of the land would ensure the end of his days of work. He could find comfort and peace until the end of his days.

“But of course,” Your father nodded excitedly, “Forgive my questioning, but what could you want with a peasant girl?”

“The previous lady was unable to birth me a son before her untimely passing. Your daughter is young and not nearly as uncouth as the rest of this village and her upbringing while unfit for that of a lady has no doubt made her strong. She will surely give me many children, and with training, we shall break her into the life of a lady.”

You stood there, floored by the conversation that transpired before you. Your maidenhood and your liveliness were being haggled as if you had no say as if you weren’t even there. He spoke of breaking you like a mare and reducing you to nothing more than a child bearer.

“She has certainly passed marrying age, I am doing you an immense favor by marrying her, really.”

“An immense favor, indeed,” Your father mused, his hand cupping his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought despite already having made his decision, “Consider it done.”

You felt as if you were on the verge of fainting.

“Excellent, I shall send for my new bride in a week's time, until then I shall make preparations for the ceremony,” He said with a triumphant grin that told you that he was all too accustomed to getting what he wanted. “Until then, my dear.”

In a matter of moments, your life had been irrevocably changed. And at that moment, you desperately hoped that the reaper would find you first and dispatch you before Lord Ilseong would ever have the chance of taking you.

You shivered in disgust as the lord left a parting kiss on your hand before shutting the door after him. You frantically wiped your knuckles against your patched skirts before running to your room. You could hear your father calling after you, demanding you to stop but you did not listen.

The yelling only continued when your mother returned home. You could hear your parents fighting the entire night, your father raising his voice over your mothers as he explained what this marriage could do for your family. Your mother understood your plight, she too was against the idea of your being wed to a man twice, almost thrice your age.

But at the end of the day, your father’s decision reigned supreme. There was a hierarchy to all things, to society, to work, and of course to families. You were to be wed, regardless of your and your mother’s protests.

Your fingers traced over the red-inked mark on your thigh, the imprint of the reaper still there with nowhere else to go. You relayed your thoughts as you traced the mark, a mantra barely parting your lips as you begged for the reaper to find you first.

Your index finger traced the lower curve of the circle that surrounded the symbol, and just there you could feel the raised bumps of a word, of a name.

Jungkook.

~~~~~~~

That was what had landed you where you were now, seated in a carriage sent by Lord Ilseong and dressed in pristine, elaborate robes.

It was your wedding day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life but you could not help but entertain the thought of throwing yourself from the carriage and allowing your body to be crushed beneath its wheels. While that seemed dramatic, you knew that the only way you could escape that old man was by death. He was a Lord, he took what he wanted and didn’t stop until he obtained it, and that included yourself.

Your stomach churned with nausea, not only from the ceaseless swaying of the transportation but from the ever-present anxiety you had felt all week which had come to a climax on this very day.

Perhaps, if you were lucky, he would take many mistresses and would be satisfied with them after you birthed him a son and he would leave you alone for the rest of your days. And maybe if you were even luckier he would die within ten years' time - stricken by disease or the halt of his heart. But you could only dream, dreaming would get you through this inevitable endless nightmare.

The reaper had not come to save your soul.

That was what you had reasoned, your untimely death would save your soul from being tainted by his lordship. You would much rather die young than be bound to that man for the remainder of his days. You would much rather be impaled by the cool steel of a blade than ever allow him to touch you again.

You allowed your body to go limp against the side of the carriage, the cool spring breeze soothing over your face like a gentle caress. You were in the thick of the woods now, the winding branches of the trees casting twisted shadows over everything below them. They looked like snares just waiting for the right prey to wander into them.

After that thought entered your mind, everything changed. In the blink of an eye, an array of arrows were let loose, flying into the wheels of the carriage and sending it careening off to its side.

You shrieked in surprise and fright as the carriage was easily tipped over, your body following immediately causing you to slam down all of your weight against your right shoulder and the other carriage door which now lay against the ground.

You cried out in pain as your body thrummed in shock from the fall, your head ringing from the collision against the door. You could feel a stickiness in your hair causing you to raise your hand to touch your scalp, and when your fingers retreated they were coated with thick, red, blood.

A gurgled scream had you snapping back to awareness. That had to have been the driver, you could just faintly make out his form, from the small slatted windows toward the front of the carriage, which was steadily slumping forward as all life was rapidly draining from him.

“What?” You gasped as you struggled to sit up, all of your weight resting on your bent forearms as your vision blurred. You had hit your head well.

The carriage shook with a loud thump, your throat tightening in fright as you heard several more steady thumps follow. Someone had landed on top of it, they were coming for you.

You hissed as you were blinded by a sudden burst of light, the other carriage door that was now above you had been wrenched open. As you blinked away the stinging sensation in your eyes you realized that you were no longer alone.

There was a man standing above you, straddling the entrance to the door. He was clothed from head to toe in black cloth and leather, his left arm bare and exposed, and a mask covering his mouth and nose. All that you could make of his face was the glinting metal pierced through his eyebrow, both of which were furrowed in what was concern but came across as intimidating.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, your head throbbing in response to your shouts.

The man shook his head silently before settling into a squat and gripping the door of the carriage in one hand before leaning inside and grabbing the sleeve of your robes. Now that he was nearer you were able to make out the stitched symbol on his shoulder that you hadn’t been able to see before - a red skull, sword, and snake.

He was a reaper.

You didn’t know whether to struggle or flee due to the fact that your whispered wishes in the night had suddenly come true. The reaper had come for you first, Lord Ilseong would not have you. Due to your plight your body had frozen, your mind overloaded by your sudden realization.

The reaper - Jungkook, took the opportunity to swiftly pull you out of the carriage and gently set you down on the soft grass. You stared at him dumbly as he dropped into a squat in front of you, his hands taking hold of your face and maneuvering it so he could assess your head wound. He tisked to himself in displeasure, his fingers lightly prodding the area around the wound forcing a wince and a groan out of you.

“Poor little lamb,” He hummed, his fingers retreating only to lightly trace down the curve of your jaw.

“Please, if you’re going to kill me do it quickly, and don’t make me suffer. Let me die with dignity.” You said, boldly grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face.

You had heard tales in your village, tales of what some of the reapers had done to some poor unfortunate girls - stealing their innocence and leaving them behind to deal with the burdens that have been relinquished to them whether they had been marked or not. The marked girls were luckier than most - their pain ended along with their life.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He was not stupid, he knew what you were asking. But what truly puzzled him, was why you would think he would do something like that. If he had wanted to kill you he would have done it that very day he had met you.

“Mea Lunatta,” He replied despite knowing you could not understand him, “My wife.”

With that, he scooped you up into his strong arms and began to walk deeper into the trees. Your body went limp, you knew very well there was no way you could fight a born killer, it would be futile. Instead, you stared ahead, the light disappearing as he walked, his grip firm and strong. Although the woods were quiet you could not shake the chill that curled around your spine, you could feel that you were being watched. And you were not wrong, all it took was a little concentration and your eyes adjusting to the dim light before you saw it.

There were eyes in the trees.

~~~~~~~

Jungkook had finally come of age. At the age of twenty-five, he was finally permitted to partake in the hunt.

The hunt was an annual occurrence, it happened like clockwork every spring. The reapers lived far from the villages, deep in the woods in their homes they had built all in a clustered community. And because of this reclusiveness, they often operated much like the predators of the woods. And that contributed to the start of the hunts. Every spring, like animals in rut, they hunted for partners - for wives.

On the first of spring they dispersed, all the men that were twenty-five or older, and searched for their prospective partner.

Jungkook had found you that first morning, on a cold spring day. He had heard you humming to yourself in the early hours of the morning. The small piles of melting snow glittered with the golden light of the steadily rising sun. You were hanging up white sheets on a clothesline, the fabric fluttering around you from the cool breeze. You looked absolutely breathtaking, like an angel shrouded in white with golden rays.

From that moment on, he knew he had to have you. And as protocol instructed, he followed you around for the next several weeks. He grew attached. You radiated a warmth he had never felt before with your gentle smile and kind words. It was a warmth he wanted to steal for himself, a warmth that he could not bear the thought of sharing with anyone else.

He found it endearing, how shy you were. But you were oh so tempting. He liked to think that you were inviting him into your room when you left your window unlatched, you were just too bashful to say anything. So he took the opportunity to sneak inside whenever you “allowed” him to. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he had rummaged through your things while you slept mere inches away. It had become a habit of his ever since he had trained to become a reaper, to learn all he could about a person.

He learned that you were a bookworm from the hidden stories he found tucked behind your dresser, the pages creased and torn with love from the continuous thumbing through them.

He learned you loved flowers from the blossoms he found pressed between those pages, bright blooms of daffodils, violets, and buttercups greeting him.

He learned you often went hungry from the lack of food in your family's pantry.

So began the second stage of the hunt, the courting. You seemed puzzled but unconcerned from the sudden discoveries of presents left on your window sill. By all means, you were delighted by the short stories, the bundles of wildflowers, and the occasional carefully wrapped veal and loaves of bread. Your excited smiles were enough to make his heart thump in his chest.

And so the courting continued until the week before the ceremony. That was where he was finally permitted to touch you, to mark you.

The marking always occurred one week before the new moon, the date on which the official hunt would take place. The mark of the reaper meant different things depending on where it was placed on a person’s body, something which outsiders were typically unaware of.

A mark on the wrist meant the mark of death.

A mark on the chest signified that you were a reaper.

And a mark on the thigh was reserved only for potential spouses - for a wife in Jungkook’s case.

Jungkook hadn’t anticipated that a lord would be in the area that day, nonetheless, Hell’s Hollow as the reapers referred to it. And he certainly could not have anticipated that said lord would come to your aid. Jungkook would have fled, taking you with him had he been permitted to do so. But there were rules he had to follow.

The first rule was that he was not permitted to speak to outsiders. Although you were marked, you weren’t considered to be one of them and you were not allowed to have any knowledge of what was to come.

The second rule was that after the marking, he was not permitted to see his potential spouse until the night of the hunt.

The third rule was that the official hunt always took place on the new moon. The lack of moonlight gave the potential spouses an advantage - the darkness created a new challenge for the reaper that was seeking them.

And the fourth rule was the most important of them all: if the runner made it outside of the reaper’s territory they would be given their freedom - no strings attached.

That was a rule that made his heart clench uncomfortably. It was a rule engrained in tradition, if you were to best him, prove yourself capable, he would have to let you go. Despite what most of the villagers believed, reapers were bound by their honor and if they were to break those rules they would be dishonoring their brethren, and they would be exiled.

But the thought of that didn’t frighten him nearly as much as the thought of you successfully evading him. He knew he had an advantage, he had been tracking marks his entire life, he was confident that he would be able to capture you before you broke the boundaries of their territory. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself, doubt leads to mistakes and mistakes led to failure.

He would not fail.

You were surprisingly still in his hold as he trekked through the forest. He had expected you to put up more of a fight, to try and flee. But he had forgotten that you were indeed smart, you most likely knew you would not be able to escape him like this, especially now. Pride swelled within him at the thought of how clever you were, but at the same time worry quelled in his mind, your cleverness might take you away from him.

He glanced down at you several times as he continued your journey, he would be lying if he were to say you were not distracting. You smelled fresh and clean with a lingering scent of oils that had been rubbed into your skin which was practically glowing, especially with the added intricacy of the garments you wore. They were familiar to him, the style, the embroidery, it was from someone he knew. Someone he wished he didn’t know. And that greatly confused him, but not as much as the sight of you inside that carriage that they had planned to attack. They had thought the lord himself would be inside, departing the village with collected taxes. But instead, you were there, his chosen.

He could feel the eyes of his comrades in the trees, burning into his back. This was something he had been trying to avoid.

Jungkook was strong and he was promising, it was well known knowledge that once the leader of their troupe stepped down he would be in the running for the position, a position that was highly sought after. And while Jungkook had many friends, brothers, amongst the reapers, he had just as many enemies. So what better way to scorn him than by stealing his chosen?

They all knew now, and he was certain that they would be hunting you alongside him tonight.

That was a part of the hunt, after all, to challenge themselves. Reapers that were of age that did not bring a chosen partner would hunt from the pool if they wished to. And if they died in the process, the reaper that killed them would go unpunished. Jungkook was certain he would have to kill for you tonight, and that thought did not bother him.

Your body suddenly tensed in his arms and in turn he stopped, immediately going on the defensive. He could feel you shrinking back into his chest in utter fear, harsh pants of breath parting your lips in pure fright.

“Wolves.” You gasped, your hand involuntarily squeezing his bicep.

A loud snap severed the silence of the forest and from the bushes emerged a wolf. It had the brightest blue eyes and pitch black fur, standing as tall as a horse.

“Direwolf,” He said, a word that was the same in your language.

You shrieked as he began to walk forward, your body wriggling for the first time since he had grabbed you. He hushed you, patting your back as he neared the wolf. The wolf did not appear to be aggressive, in fact, it seemed quite relaxed, even happy at the sight of Jungkook. Its massive tail swung slowly in excitement as it walked beside Jungkook, consciously slowing its pace so it did not overtake him.

“My wolf,” He explained. He knew very well that you could not understand, but he could not remain silent, he wished to speak to you.

The Direwolves had become their companions, they respected one another's borders and in turn, had formed a close relationship with select reapers. The Direwolves guarded their campgrounds, and in turn, the reapers ensured they would be fed in the barren days of winter. The Direwolves were the reason why no one ever tried to ambush them, they’re massive bodies, fanged teeth, and tough skin made them an impossible adversary.

They were incredibly good at keeping people inside as well.

His wolf made a good guide, leading the way into the campgrounds. The sun was nearly set, the forest growing impenetrably dark on these short spring days. It would not be long before the hunt started and he still needed to prepare you.

The campgrounds were fairly empty, not many reapers or families milling about. They all knew what tonight marked and they were all preparing in their own ways. The wolf followed behind closely, coming to stop and sitting by his cabin, his bright blue eyes steady and alert.

You began to struggle again as he crossed the threshold, the missing presence of the wolf instilling your instincts to fight once more.

“Put me down!” You yelled through gritted teeth, your irritation from being carried around like a rag doll boiling to the surface.

You could see his jaw clench beneath the cover of his mask, you were making him angry.

He slammed the door shut behind him before setting you down, leaning against the only exit to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave before it was time.

“I won’t let you touch me,” You said with a shake of your head, “And I won’t go down without a fight.”

You were impressed by the steadiness in your voice in spite of the deep-rooted fear you felt inside. You were not necessarily lying to him, you would make it as hard as possible for him despite knowing just how easily he could restrain you. You were terribly frightened.

His body shook with laughter, his eyes crinkling in amusement which only served to unsettle you as well as frustrate you. He too knew that your threats were useless, in fact, he found them to be adorable. But, he did not have any plans that were like what you were insinuating. He would not be able to do that until after he caught you, fair and square. Not until you were his wife.

He crossed his strong arms over his chest, leaning back in a relaxed manner against the door before nodding his head in the direction of the table where a white garment was folded on top.

“Change.” He instructed.

You looked between him and the table before shaking your head, “No.”

He cocked his head to the side, his pierced eyebrow raising in questioning at your defiance. He pulled down his mask and let it rest around his neck before he spoke again.

“Change,” He smirked before sliding a knife out of his leg sheath, “Or I will do it for you.”

You didn’t have to speak his language in order to understand what he was insinuating. He would have no problems slashing your clothes into ribbons so you would have no other choice but to wear what he was giving you.

You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears that were threatening to pool over. Whenever you became overwhelmed with emotion you cried, especially when you were angry and you hated that so much. You sniffled pitifully and rubbed at the skin beneath your eyes, the playful smirk immediately dropping off of Jungkook’s face as he took a step in your direction.

“Look away,” You snapped, stepping backward and grabbing the plain fabric from the table.

Jungkook seemed distressed, his lips pressing together in worry as he watched you. But, after a few moments, he nodded and faced the door to give you your privacy. That was at least one kindness that could be afforded.

You were woefully embarrassed to not only be changing in the same room as a man, but also by the attire he had provided you with. It was a dress that was thin and breathable with loose angel sleeves as well as a skirt that ended mid calf, it was made to offer mobility and comfort. You felt horribly exposed, the dress far too scandalous to be anything but sleep wear. You felt naked, in your village this would be just as bad as being naked.

But it was either this, or nothing at all.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, and despite your attempts, worry penetrated your words.

He looked over his shoulder before slowly turning to face you, his dark eyes roaming over your body from head to toe in what could only be described as appreciation. He didn’t answer you, and from what you understood that was in his character. Instead he approached you and in turn you took several steps back until you were halted by the table behind you. He advanced and did not stop until there was barely an inch of space left in between you two.

Your harsh swallow was cacophonous in the quiet cabin, your gaze was turned downward in an attempt to avoid his eyes.

He softly lifted your head up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your hands gripped the table behind you in response, your eyes flickering off to the side in anxiety.

“I’m going to love you,” he whispered with a soothing tone as he retrieved a small silver jar from behind you filled with red pigment, “I’m going to protect you, and if anyone tries to take you from me I’ll slaughter them without hesitation.”

He gently smoothed your eyelids shut and proceeded to paint the red pigment over your eyes, over the crests of your cheekbones, and dragged down the hollows beneath your eyes. Even without seeing it, you could recognize the pattern as the same one he wore on his face in coal dust.

“You are mine, and I am yours,” He said while cupping your cheeks tenderly and pressing his forehead against yours.

After Jungkook had finished preparing you, he grabbed you be the hand and lead you out of the house. The Direwolf was still there and it continued to follow the two of you around like, well like an overgrown puppy.

Jungkook’s grip was firm but not painful, it was meant to keep you by his side. It was dark out, the dirt paths just barely lit by a line of torches leading toward the center of the ground where a massive until bonfire was constructed. And surrounding the unlit fire was a massive crowd of reapers as well as women dressed almost identically to yourself.

Your heart clenched in your chest, what was coming next? Were you going to be sacrificed? Roasted and cannibalized? Whatever is was, it wasn’t going to be good for you.

You dug your heels into the ground, surprisingly, startling Jungkook. He turned to face you, the light of the torches glinting off of his piercing and the red hue of his lips. You hated to admit it, but he was painfully beautiful. With a strong jaw, prominent brows, dark eyes, and pouty lips, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. He looked as if he belonged among nobility, not here, in the middle of the woods with a bunch of wild men.

“Please,” You whispered, stepping closer so he could hear, “I need to know what’s going to happen to me.”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressed firmly together in thought. There was a beat of silence before he warily looked around and flipped your palm over so it was facing the sky. And then, he began to trace patterns, no, letters over the surface of your palm.

You focused, memorizing the letters and stringing them together in your mind until they formed coherent words. Words that sent a violent chill throughout your entire body.

“Run, don’t hide.”

~~~~~~~

The bonfire roared to life behind you as you sprinted through the forest, an eerie red glow casting long shadows all around you. The women that hadn’t figured out what was happening right away were far behind you, you had been granted a head start. But you knew that time was precious, eventually the reapers would descend and if they didn’t manage to catch you, you didn’t want to imagine was the Direwolves would do to you.

You could only imagine that this was how they entertained themselves. Perhaps someone had not hired Jungkook to kill you, but instead like an apex predator he desired to hunt you. This had to be a game for them, whoever slaughtered the most people won.

But then why did he tell you to keep running and not to hide? To lengthen the game? Or, if you hid, would the others find you? Did he want to claim your life instead?

Your legs and arms burned with exertion as you ran, the cool earth soggy and soft beneath your shoes that were most definitely not made for running. They were a size too small and pinched you in all of the worst places sending searing pain throughout the bottoms of your feet. You debated kicking them off but thought better of that, the nights were still freezing and if you managed to make it out of this alive you would prefer to keep all ten of your toes.

Despite your head start you could still hear everything that happened behind you. You could hear the other women screaming and fighting for their lives and that only served as motivation, forcing you to push yourself past your limits and sprint faster than you ever had before.

A scream parted your lips as a large black mass shot out of the trees and just barely brushed against you. You stumbled but did not fall and continued running but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder. Black fur and piercing blue eyes, it was Jungkook’s wolf who was pinning a reaper down to the ground. You watched as he snarled and lunged for the man’s neck and crushed it with one snap of it’s jaws before slowly dragging the corpse back into the trees and ripping his throat open. His blood rolled down his neck and practically sizzled from the cold air.

Your stomach turned and your throat tightened, you were definitely running slower now from your nausea and the muscle fatigue. How had you not noticed the wolf tracking you? Or the reaper? They both had been perfectly silent, one with the forest, and you had not even realized that man had been less than a foot behind you.

You were out of your depth, you were going to die.

Your body had been rife with adrenaline at the beginning of this horrible race, and that still was present especially after what you had just experienced. But your mind was contesting your body and you were horribly frightened and confused.

In your panicked state and the deep darkness of the night, you had failed to see it. A wire had been strung up and the minute you ran through it your ankles were caught, you tripped and fell and the wire wrapped smoothly around you ankles: binding them together.

Someone had set traps before the start of the hunt, they had done something that felt an awful lot like cheating.

“No!” You cried, smacking your palm over your mouth from the volume, “No, no, no, please no,” You whispered.

You flipped yourself onto your back and sat upright, your hands instantly pulling at the wire and attempting to unravel it from your ankles. You hissed in pain, a stray tear falling from your eye as the wire slashed at the delicate skin of your palms - crimson blood beading up and slipping from the wound.

You clenched your jaw tight to muffle your sounds of discomfort and got to work, whimpering at each slice as you pried the wire open and unwound it painstakingly slow. You grunted under your breath as you pulled it free, a clear indent left in the flesh of your ankles that was bloody and fresh. You let out a soft breath of relief before turning over onto your hands and knees, attempting to stand back up so that you could continue your escape.

Before you could move any farther a boot connected with your back, forcing your down to the ground like a helpless bug. A sharp wheeze left your lungs as pain radiated through your back, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you tried to drag yourself out from underneath whoever was pinning you down.

“There you are,” The man said with a pleased tone in the language you spoke.

You cried out as he wove his gloved fingers into your hair and sharply yanked your head up by causing shocks of pain to blossom over your scalp. He turned your head to face him, his other hand tightly grasping your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, you’re Jungkook’s bitch,” He laughed, “You’re pretty too, that’ll make this hurt even more.”

“Please, please let me go! I swear you’ll never see me again, I just want to go home!” You cried, emotion swelling up in your chest to the point where you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

You hated crying, you wanted to be strong but fuck, you were so scared. You knew that you were moments from dying, this had to be it and you weren’t ready.

“And that’s exactly what I can’t have, what better way to piss that asshole off than to steal his woman from him? To make him see you everyday knowing I rightfully won you and he can’t do anything about it? Hell, I could even fuck you against the side of his house if I wanted to and he wouldn’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.”

His woman? His woman?

You suddenly came to realize a horrific thought. They weren’t hunting for sport, they were hunting for wives.

“You’re a little older than I would have liked, but I’ll make do,” He sneered, flipping you over onto your back and straddling your waist.

“Stop, let go of me!” You screamed, wriggling underneath him and hitting whatever part of his body you could reach. You caught him by surprise, your nails catching on his skin and dragging down over his face drawing blood beneath them.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, wiping the blood from his face before grasping your wrists and pinning them down to the ground and above your head.

“I was going to be nice to you, ya know? But now, now I’m going to make you suffer,” He spat, the veins in his neck bulging with rage.

You screamed, panicked sobs filling the air as he gripped your hands with one of his own, the other going for the waist of his pants. You knew what was coming next, you had heard the stories of what they did and all you could do was cry and struggle beneath him, he had you pinned well.

You clenched your eyes shut, your lashes clumping together from the amount of tears you had shed. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

In a last ditch effort, a small ember of hope, you screamed once more, “Jungkook!”

And it was all over in a flash. A warm, thick, wetness sprayed over your face - a coppery taste misting over your lips as a gurgled, choked cry sounded from above you before the weight of the man fell off of you.

You kept your eyes closed, still too afraid to move, your body was completely frozen against your own desire to flee. You jolted at the feeling of fingers ghosting over your cheek, fingers that were rough and coated with something that felt tacky.

Warily, you opened your eyes. It was Jungkook. His mask was pulled down around his neck again, his expression was one of panic and rage. You swallowed harshly as he wiped away your tears and whatever was coating your face. You allowed yourself to take in the sight of him from head to toe and you were met with the startling realization that he was covered in blood. His forearms, his palms, his chest, and his boots, and not to mention the light smattering over his sharp jawline.

He had killed many people tonight.

Your eyes wandered behind him and on the ground a lifeless corpse was splayed out. It was the man that had captured you, his throat was savagely slashed so deeply you thought you could see bone.

You frantically began to rub at your face, the white sleeves of your dress stained with dirt and blood rubbing roughly against your skin. You were certain your face would be raw by the time you were done.

You hadn’t even realized you were panicking, frantically mumbling sentences that didn’t make sense as you attacked your own face, until he spoke.

“Sh, sh, sh,” He hushed you, pulling your hands from your face, “It’s over, you’re safe now.”

Your body froze, it took you a few moments to realize that you could understand him, this was the first time he had spoken your language.

“Please, I want to go home now,” You whispered, your hands limp beneath his as your shoulders shook.

“I’ll take you home,” He nodded, standing up and helping you to your feet. Your knees were still weak, your ankles protesting as they continued to bleed. You were sure they were going to get infected at this rate.

“You’re hurt?” He asked, his voice much softer than you had anticipated. You merely nodded in response.

He recognized those marks, they were from a specific snare that only reapers used. And, on the night of the hunt, they were banned. His jaw clenched in anger, he was trying his best not to explode, not to scare you. His rage would be wasted, after all he had already killed that bastard and his little band of low-lives. Just as he had suspected, they were all after you that night.

He stepped forward, opening his arms to pick you up. You jerked away, your body still trying to protect you - not sensing that the danger had passed. Or was it right? Jungkook was one of them, he had marked you, brought you here, he was just as dangerous.

“I won’t hurt you,” He said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, “You need my help.”

As reluctant as you were to admit it, he was right, you wouldn’t be able to walk all the way back with him, you were in far too much pain. You nodded slowly before inching towards him and allowing him to gently cradle you to his chest.

Jungkook paused once he adjusted you in his hold. Your face was still stained just as badly as the rest of him despite your frantic attempts to clean yourself. The makeup that has once been on your face was smudged and dissolved by your tears. But, you had made it. He knew he chose you for a reason, you had ran the farthest, you had outrun so many men and the ones you couldn’t he and his wolf dispatched.

His heart thumped in anxiety as he looked over his shoulder where the bloody snare laid. You had been so close.

Another two feet, and you would have broken their borders and had been free to go.

~~~~~~~

The bonfire was still burning just as strongly as it had been at the start of the hunt. That led you to believe that it had not lasted as long as you thought it would. The reapers were proficient hunters and killers just like the Direwolves that protected their lands. It was foolish to believe that anything about this would have been challenging for them.

Upon your arrival you were met with the sight of a substantial crowd. All of your fellow runners were there each in a different state of despair and disbelief. But besides them, there were many newcomers that you had not seen before. There were families, large families. Mother’s occupied with their babies, young children giggling as they chased one another, and the glowing eyes of the Direwolves surveying, their massive bodies folded into themselves as they laid on the ground by the tree line.

They were on guard, not from outside threats, but guarding the way out. It would be suicide for anyone who tried to leave. You had seen what those wolves could do, you would not dare try to leave with them here.

“What is this?” You asked Jungkook who had set you down on a soft cushion a fair distance from the fire.

“A celebration,” He explained “For good fortune and prosperous futures.”

Prosperous futures? What future could anyone have after this? That was of course, if he was lying to you. If he didn’t know that you knew what all of this was really about.

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you chose me to be your wife?”

Jungkook flinched, his doe eyes widening in surprise before a small smile crept onto his lips, “You figured it out then? I knew you were smart, that was one of the reasons I chose you. I could see the cleverness in those eyes from a mile away.”

You shifted uncomfortably underneath his stare before straightening your spine, attempting to appear far more confident than you felt.

“I’m not yours, I never will be.”

His lips twitched into a frown, “You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. You accepted my gifts, my proposal, and I caught you fairly. This may not be conventional in your village but it is tradition in mine. You bare my mark, you followed me here willingly, and we completed the ceremony. You are mine and I am yours in a way that is far more binding than any church could declare. Do you understand me?”

He was thoroughly angered, you could practically feel the heat simmering off of him, stronger than the fire that was not too far away. You watched as he stood, dragging one of several large barrels filled to the brim with water over to you. He grabbed a spare cloth and dunked it into the water before dropping down to his knees and beginning to clean your hands and feet, removing the dirt and blood from beneath your nails and the wounds on your ankles.

You watched him work for a moment, his brows furrowed in irritation as well as focus. Behind him several reapers watched on in astonishment, several looks of surprise as well as disapproval coloring their features.

“Why are they staring at us?” You whispered, curling into yourself from the attention.

“It is tradition for the spouse to cleanse the reaper after the ceremony, not the other way around,” He mumbled, grabbing a new cloth for your face.

His intense, dark eyes bore into your own as he cleaned the blood from your cheeks, “I am willing to break tradition for you, rules for you, does that not prove that I am yours as much as you are mine?”

Your heart thumped against your will. Adoring words like those should not leave the mouth of a killer so easily.

“I can’t be yours.”

“And why is that?”

“I,” You swallowed harshly, the words burning your tongue before your could even form them, “I am promised to Lord Ilseong.”

Fire blossomed in his eyes, those dark coals igniting in an instant. You had never seen hatred grow so quickly in a man or woman’s eyes before and it genuinely frightened you.

“Lord Ilseong?” He hissed, his strong shoulders squared and tensed.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, unnerved by the sudden shift in demeanor, “He will come for me, you must know that. I am his betrothed.”

Jungkook said nothing, instead he quickly rose to his feet and grabbed you firmly by the wrist, pulling you in the direction of his cabin where his wolf still laid in waiting. You struggled to keep up with his pace, stumbling over your own feet as you were nearly dragged by him into his home.

“What are you doing?! You said you would take me home!”

“And I did not lie to you, this is home, our home now.”

“Lord Ilseong-”

“Say his name one more time,” He warned as he fixed you with an intense glare, “One more time, and I’ll make sure mine is the only one you’ll be able to remember.”

You froze, your body refusing to move as you were pinned in place by his intimidating glare. You had been tossed from one fire into another. From one lecherous old man to a wild young one. You had yet to decide which was worse.

“Why do you hate him so?” You asked, surprised you were able to voice such a question when he was clearly on edge.

He laughed, a bitter and cruel sound. You could see his shoulders shaking in barely contained rage. He did not hate him, he loathed his entire existence.

“Why do I hate him?” He echoed, his jaw clenched tightly, “Lord Ilseong is my father.”

You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping, he had taken you completely by surprise. Jungkook looked nothing like Lord Ilseong, Jungkook was far too beautiful. But, if you looked hard enough, the faintest traces of him were there, in his jaw and brow, but for the most part you could conclude that Jungkook was blessed with his mother’s features.

“That…that’s not possible! The lady was never able to conceive a child. Lord Ilseong has no children.”

“None that were legitimate. No, I am his bastard. And I had quite a few siblings to show for his unfaithfulness. He sought out any pretty face he could and took them with or without their regard. That is something that all reapers have in common, we are the rejected children of nobility and we have come to reap what they have sown.”

You could see it now. Many of the reapers you had seen at the fire were painfully attractive, the offspring of beautiful people who had been abused and taken advantage of. And in turn they were rejected by those who had given them life. But just like the nobility they had been born from, they too were tainted with corruption, that much was evidenced by your capture and what had almost transpired before Jungkook had slain that man in the forest.

“That is why he wishes to marry me, to finally have a legitimate child to continue his legacy.” You confirmed. You had thought before he was a perverted old man, and that much was true, but he had much bigger plans.

“He what?!” Jungkook was seething.

“That was what he told my father, he wished for me to give him many children.”

As soon as you were finished speaking, you could see him snap. He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the back of the house where his bedroom was. He slammed the door shut and pushed you firmly in the chest causing you to stumble back onto his bed.

“He has taken everything from me, but this I will finally take from him.” He said, tugging your skirt up just as he had done the week before spurring a squeal from your lips.

The red mark was still there on your thigh. No amount of scrubbing from you or your mother has managed to remove it from you skin. You gasped as he dropped to his knees and leaned over you, pressing a fervent kiss to the mark while his hand gripped your other thigh.

“This means that you are mine, I found you first, I chose you first. You have a purpose here, you are important here. Make no mistake I am not giving you a choice, you will not return to him. But if you try to run know this, a life with him will be one of misery and suffering. Here, I am offering you my love, my soul, whatever it is you desire. But in return I desire the same. And if you were to offer those to anyone else I would kill them without hesitation.”

You sat there in shock. Never had a man ever knelt before you in such a position, in submission. No man had ever declared such a violent love for you.

You knew, despite Jungkook’s vehement denial, that you did have choices and there were three.

The first was to return with Lord Ilseong when he inevitably came for you. And what would come of that. A life of misery, Jungkook had said. You would be doomed to marry a man nearly thrice your age, endure a horrific wedding night and several more like it until you missed your cycle, and then give birth. And that would continue over and over again until he died, an endless cycle to ensure he would have a pool of children to choose from in the event that his first born perished or, worse in his eyes, was a girl. And the thought of him, his wrinkled hands, touching your body had your stomach churning. You would rather fight the Direwolves.

The second was to run, to go back home. But that posed several problems. For one, your father would never take you back. You would become his greatest disappointment just as quickly as you had become his pride. He would send for Lord Ilseong and your fate would be sealed. Or, more likely, Jungkook would find you first. And you knew then that your family would no longer be safe.

The third option, the final option, was just as difficult as the first. And that was to stay with Jungkook and his reapers. To be his wife. You would be trapped with the man who had captured you, who had stolen you from your home. You would stand by for years on end, watching the cycle continue as people were either slaughtered for money, or were captured to be wed. But, you would still have some freedom. You wouldn’t be “broken like a mare” as his lordship has said. You would still be where you thrived, in nature. And your “husband” would not be an old decrepit man. As unwilling as you were to admit it, the thought of Jungkook touching you was not entirely repulsive. Had he been another village boy, had he been sweet, innocent, and kind, you would have jumped at the chance to be betrothed to him.

Jungkook was the lesser of evils.

“Let me have you,” He said, his hands stroking slowly up and down the expanse of your thighs which had pressed themselves together tightly out of not only anxiety but something else all together. It was a horrible, addicting blend.

And you couldn’t help but think to yourself, what better way to spite that old man than to lose your innocence to his bastard. You knew that Lord Ilseong would come, without a doubt he would not let you be free. But when he came with his army and slaughtered the reapers you would be free. Jungkook would be dead and the Lord would not take you, you who were no longer a virgin and tainted by his illegitimate son. Jungkook was right, you were clever.

You finally met his gaze, his head still craned up to look at you. There was something enticing about having a powerful man on his knees. You had never had power, you were always the pawn.

And so, when his hands moved higher, fiddling with the hem of your undergarments, you did not stop him. As nervous as you were, frightened as you were, this was a part of your plan and you would see through it. You would do it if it meant you could have your freedom.

And anyone else was better than Ilseong. Especially the attractive man that knelt before you like a devout worshiper at his altar. If you were lucky, he would not make it hurt.

A desperate sigh left his lips as he rolled your skirt up over your hips and hastily removed your undergarments before pulling you to the edge of his bed and forcing your legs over his shoulders as his head disappeared in between your thighs.

You shrieked in surprise as you felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thigh. His hands were holding your hips tightly, preventing you from moving as he left long, lingering kisses there. His lips were surprisingly soft, wet, and warm, creating an unfamiliar ache at the apex of your thighs. Your hips twitched without your permission, writhing in an attempt to get him to do something your body understood better than your mind. His soft laugh vibrated against your thigh, his dark eyes shooting up to look at you in a way that could only be described as mischievous before he ducked his head down and his lips met a place you had not dared to touch.

A cry of shock broke free from your lips, your head falling back and your chest heaving in pleasure.

“W-what? Jungkook wait-” You stuttered in confusion, your words easily silenced by the strokes of his tongue.

The entire inner workings of what happened between a husband and wife on their wedding night was a mystery to you. And that was not your fault. Mothers and fathers often kept that from their daughters, too afraid to tell them too much lest they learn how to rid themselves of their virginity before they marry. Your mother had told you enough the day you were to be sent to Lord Ilseong, but this, this was a far cry from what she had told you.

Despite your pleas he did not slow down, in fact he only became that much more enthusiastic. Your arms turned to jello, collapsing out from underneath you sending your back down to the mattress as your legs shook around his head. You could feel him groaning against you sending vibrations all throughout your core, it was like he was the one receiving immense pleasure and not you.

It felt like he wanted to devour you.

He broke away once to catch his breath, his shoulders heaving as he panted.

“So pretty for me,” He mumbled, his voice much lower than before and riddled with lust.

You jolted with a strangled moan as he pressed a long, lingering kiss to that place once more before his fingers firmly stroked up and down the length of your sex, just barely sinking in to your entrance in a teasing manner that had your hips bucking pitifully against his iron grip. He would to decided to give you what you needed when he wanted to. The chase had been great fun, but the capture was the true reward and he planned to thoroughly enjoy it.

“So sensitive,” He laughed, pushing your hips down, “Have you never been touched before?”

Your eyes were clenched shut, your mouth twisted into a frown as he continued his touches that still left behind a pleasant thrum but also an intense ache as he deliberately avoided every part that would provide you pleasure.

As soon as he realized you weren’t paying attention his withdrew his fingers and you could only whine from the lack of his touch.

“I asked you a question,” He said, very clearly waiting for your response.

“No,” You admitted despite your embarrassment.

His face was set with determination and glee, he was happy to know that he would have you first in every aspect.

You wriggled away from him as he stood up, joining you on the bed and attempting to remove your dress. You had never been exposed to someone else before and while you felt desire burning inside you the thought of him seeing you bare was frightening. But he smiled at your bashful actions and he knew that he would have to rid you of your clothes quickly.

You froze as he removed a very familiar knife from the strap on his leg, your heart beating louder than thunder. Maybe he had been planning to kill you all along, maybe he was finally going to do it.

But instead of killing you like you thought he would, he pulled your dress taut and with one impressive slash slit it open from the bottom to the top. Your chest heaved against the cool metal of the blade that now rested at your breasts - the feeling just as exhilarating as it was frightening.

“Easy, little lamb,” He cooed, setting the knife aside, “What use would I have for a lovely, dead, wife?”

You watched in awe as he stripped down, revealing every inch of honey skin and toned muscle. But, more surprisingly, and arm full of tattoos. He had always kept one arm bare and the other covered. The covered one hiding the collection of inked markings on his arm as well as the reaper’s mark on his chest, the mark that you shared with him on your thigh. He quickly noticed where your attention strayed to.

“Each one signifies something different. Some of them are milestones, ranks, and others represent kills,” He explained, grabbing your hand and resting it on his bicep, encouraging you to touch him.

Your fingers smoothed over the scarred skin, enraptured by the sight. You had never seen so many markings on one person. You could only assume Jungkook had killed many, many people.

He sighed at the feeling of your touch, eagerly wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, pressing your chest against his firmly so that there was no space left in between you two. Your body was rapidly heating up, the feeling of his strong thighs and hardened manhood beneath you only making the fire in your veins burn hotter.

He gently cradled your jaw with one hand, the other spread over your ribcage just beneath the swell of your breast. And, with a surprising tenderness, he pressed his lips against yours in a soft, slow, sweet kiss. But it did not remain soft for long, his hold grew firmer, his kisses more intense and hard like he could not get enough of you, like he needed you more than air itself.

And, with a flood of heat, you realized that he had kissed you in-between your legs before stealing your first kiss from your lips.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” He whispered against your mouth, misreading your trembling body, “I’ll never hurt you, I only want to pleasure you.”

And he followed through on his promise. You had never thought that hands that could bring death could also bring pleasure, but you had been mistaken. In the veil of darkness, under the absence of the moon, the two of you indulged in a night of debauchery.

You had been told that this night would be painful, that you would cry and wish it had never happened. But instead you had found immense satisfaction and a desire for more. While your life had been riddled with misfortune you had been granted one ounce of relief - Jungkook was a gifted lover. So gifted in fact that you found yourself unwilling to part from him, your hold on his body almost as strong as his grasp on you. Your nails had found themselves embedded in his back, raking down the once smooth skin and leaving marks of your own on him. You were certain that your inner thighs would be bruised from just how tightly you encircled his waist. You had allowed a part of yourself to escape that you did not recognize.

“My good little wife, taking me so well,” He had moaned into your ear, his hips desperately rutting against yours. “Absolutely perfect for me.”

And he continued on like that, whispering praises into your ear and bringing you to the edge over and over and over again, his stamina prevailing even as you weakly mewled and attempted to draw away from him, every inch of your body screaming in oversensitivity but even then that pain felt horribly good.

“You can take another, for me, I know you can handle it,” He growled out from behind gritted teeth, at this point he had become more animalistic than man.

“I can’t -”

“You can, and you will.”

That was something you had come to learn about Jungkook. He always followed through on his promises as well as his threats.

When he had finished for the second and final time he held you close to his chest, the scent of sweat and intimacy still fresh in the air as you unwillingly began to doze off, all of your energy completely drained from your body after not only the intense coupling but all of the energy you had expended prior running for your life.

But as you drifted off you were reminded of exactly why you had done this in the first place. You still were meant to leave, you still craved your freedom.

All it took was one sentence from Jungkook to remind you of your plan. As long as you stayed complacent you would never be free.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll like, round with my children.”

This was what he had meant by “prosperous futures.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning you were abruptly awoken by the scent of smoke thick in the air and the sound of harsh pounding on the front door.

The space beside you was empty and faintly warm, Jungkook had been up for a little while. You could hear his voice now as well as another reaper’s.

“What is it?” Jungkook’s voice.

“We’ve spotted a decent band of soldiers a few miles out, they definitely belong to a nobleman from the crests they carry. They’ve set fire to the forests, they’re trying to burn everything down in sight - they’re either looking for us, someone else, or both.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much, the scouts we sent ahead have returned so I imagine that the soldiers can’t be that far behind. We’ve been ordered to to go ahead and assume our positions, the rest will evacuate.”

“Is that necessary?”

“For now, yes. For everyone else’s sake, they’ll only get in the way. Once we clean this mess up everyone will be escorted back. But we need you too, we can’t do it without you.”

“I understand,” Jungkook reluctantly said, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

You sat up in bed, the blanket tightly wrapped around your body as Jungkook came in. He looked distressed not because of the impending fight, that he was familiar with, but because you would be leaving. And while he wished he could trust you after what happened the night before, he knew that he couldn’t. When given the opportunity to flee, he was certain his little lamb would run for safer pastures.

He dressed you quickly, helping you pull on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants, men’s clothing. You had never worn men’s clothing before.

“Easier to run in, if they come for you, you have to be ready to run.” He explained, bending down to help you lace up the boots on your feet.

“Don’t be afraid, Fang will protect you while I’m gone.”

“Fang?” You asked.

“My wolf.”

So, that was its name. How uncreative.

Jungkook paused, his brows pinched in stress as he looked at you. This was happening too quickly. He thought he had some time before Ilseong and his men would come, time that would get you to trust him.

He stepped forward, cradling your face before pressing his lips to yours again. You had found that each kiss with Jungkook was different and new. This one was desperate, this one felt like a promise, a promise to see you again.

“I love you,” He said, his dark eyes wide and glistening, “Come back to me.”

You could only stare back at him, you refused to make a promise you could not keep. You were going to try to leave if you could and you would not lie to him.

Fang was waiting outside, pacing impatiently and whining in the back of his throat. The Direwolf was agitated, you would be too if your home was burning.

“Follow him, he will take you somewhere safe. I will see you again, that is a promise.” Jungkook said before giving you one more final parting kiss and melting into the tree line.

Jungkook always followed through on his promises and his threats.

A few moments later you heard the cries of wounded men from the forest. The soldiers had arrived and they had not anticipated the reapers armed with bows and arrows high in the trees. It was foolish to try and ambush trained killers, that was something you had forgotten. The chances were that Jungkook would not die today, no, that army would. You had to move, now.

Fang moved swiftly beside you and, to your surprise, split off from the evacuating party. He was taking you somewhere else, perhaps a safe place the Jungkook had in case something like this were to happen. A place where he could find you again.

You were caught in a rock and a hard place. You had seen Fang tear into that reaper the night before, you had watched him consume him with no regret. He and Jungkook were bonded, but you were not. You did not want to test him and see if he would deliver upon you the same fate. It was another waiting game.

Your only other plan would be to follow him to the safe point and try and make your break from there. But, even then, you were certain that Direwolves had impeccable senses. And, like the reapers, Fang would have no problem hunting you.

The massive wolves' steps were hard to keep up with, you were practically jogging in an attempt to stay by his side. He was tense, his ears flicking now and then as he listened for a threat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the trees. Direwolves seemed far more human than regular wolves, especially with their intelligence.

Fang froze, sniffing the air rapidly before his hackles raised and a deep growl left him that was so loud it shook the ground beneath you. He backed up, his large body shielding your own as he waited for the threat to emerge.

And it was quite a threat. Lord Ilseong had not only sent one army but two. One surveying and burning one side of the forest, and another scouting the other side. And they too were armed, smaller than the other force, but still armed.

Fang lunged instantly, his jaw snapping down on three men at once and wildly shaking them around like they weighed nothing while blood and their screams filled the air.

And then you were off.

Once more, you had found yourself running for your life in the woods. Although this time you were much more efficient. The clothes Jungkook had given you were, in fact, much easier to run in. And now that the sun was out the forest was perfectly illuminated allowing you to see every fallen tree, root, and stump in your path.

You were going to run until you couldn’t anymore. This time, this time for sure you would make it out, you would be able to be free again.

At least, that was what you had thought, that was what you had hoped for. You had been wrong.

The trees were beginning to thin out, and what you had thought to be the clearing to a village turned out to be the small resting place of the noble army that had been abandoned save for guardsmen and of course, Lord Ilseong himself.

“My bride, there you are!” He called excitedly causing you to stumble backward, ready to begin running in the opposite direction but you were quickly stopped by his guards behind you.

“I have been looking all over for my pretty little bride, when my men found your carriage overturned we had assumed the worst.” He explained, coming to stand right in front of you leaving you with no exit to run to.

“What is this that you’re wearing?” He sneered, “What happened to the robes I sent you?”

He was more worried about the damn clothes than you, not that you cared at all what he felt for you but if he claimed to want you as his Lady you would think he would show an ounce of worry for your state of being.

“They were stolen from me, forgive me.” You said, your hands clenched into fists.

Lord Ilseong did not care, his beady eyes were still trained on the shirt and pants that donned your body.

“These are a man’s clothes!” He yelled, grasping the collar of the shirt and jerking it so strongly that it tore, the fabric falling to expose the column of your neck, your collarbones, and your left shoulder.

“Infidelity!” He screamed, rage burning red under his skin as he saw the marks that Jungkook had left the night before. A good portion of your body was littered with bruises but that spot was by far the worst, deep dark marks were clustered together along with a clear bite mark.

“It-it’s not what you think your grace!” You cried in an attempt to save yourself. Your eyes were burning and your heart was pounding, you knew what was going to come next.

“Do you know what the price of unfaithfulness is?” He hissed, his men forcing you down to your knees before him.

You whimpered as you heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed, the metal glinting in the sun as it was passed to Ilseong.

“The penalty is death.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as warm tears attempted to fall. You refused to cry this time, you were done crying. And now, as you faced your certain death you refused to show this man your tears. This man was punishing you for a crime you did not commit against a relationship you did not have. A relationship you never wanted.

“What a shame, I had such high hopes for you, but you were just another common whore.” He seethed as he raised the sword above his head.

A sharp whistle shot by your ears and then another, the sound of something cutting through the air quickly. And almost immediately after two loud thuds sounded.

You cracked open your eyes to see the two guards laying limp on the forest floor, an arrow embedded in each of their throats. You peered over your shoulder and there, blending into the shadows of the trees sat a reaper high up in its branches. He was the man from this morning, Hoseok.

And if Hoseok was here, that meant -

Two more arrows sliced through the air, one piercing Ilseong’s left hand causing him to drop the sword and scream in pain only for another arrow to pierce his right hand. Both of his arms were spread out, each hand pinned to a tree and unable to move. He was defenseless.

Jungkook emerged from the shadows and behind him, Fang followed closely. Blood was matted into his fur, some was his own but the majority of it was not.

And Jungkook, he was trembling in rage.

“All you do is take. You took my mother from me, her life, my sibling's lives, and then you steal my wife from me not once but twice. Your judgment had been long awaited by not only myself but everyone under your rule.”

For the first time, Ilseong looked frightened like he was staring death in the face. Not unlike how you had been moments before.

“I promise you that I will take everything from you. Your riches, your land, and your life. That, that is the penalty for trying to murder another man’s wife.”

“J-Jungkook, I’m your father, have mercy, please!”

“Did you show my sisters mercy when you slaughtered them in their sleep? Or my brothers when you had your men shoot them down in the fields? Or my mother when you strangled her to death?!” He said, his voice growing louder and louder as his rage rolled off of him in waves.

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, anything!” Ilseong begged, his eyes wide in fright and panic.

“I want your life,” Jungkook said before picking up the sword from the ground and began hacking away without hesitation, once, twice, and three times until Ilseong’s head came lose from his neck and fell away his body going completely limp - only being held up by the arrows that still kept his decapitated body upright.

You couldn’t stop the raw scream that ripped freely from your throat. You had never seen a sight so horrific before, so violent and unforgiving. That image would forever be burned in your mind, haunting you each time to tried to sleep.

You watched in horror as Fang approached, grabbing what remained of Ilseong in his strong jaws and ripping his corpse free from the tree, dragging it back into the forest where he would no doubt be consumed.

“You shall reap what you sow.” Jungkook and Hoseok spoke in unison like it was a ritual.

Jungkook’s shoulders finally relaxed, the sword dropping from his hand as he turned to look at you. Blood was heavy on his face, covering the left side of it almost entirely. But he still smiled at you, the blood on his face making his teeth seem unbearably white only making your stomach turn ten times worse.

You whimpered in fright as he approached you, settling down in a crouch in front of you before tugging you into his arms. The scent of blood was ever stronger now as his hands smoothed up and down your back.

“Remember what I told you little lamb?” He grinned, “Without hesitation.”

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts fanfic #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #mercenary jungkook #fantasy au #bts fantasy au #jungkook fantasy au

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luna-says-stuff · 3 years

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50 Durin House Rules And Other Declarations:

(everybody lives AU, cuz they deserve it)

1. Running off into the wild to pet a wild wolf is not an acceptable hobby.

2. Bringing said wolf home and giving it a name is also not an acceptable hobby.

3. Under no circumstances is Kili allowed to babysit.

4. It is necessary to lock the door at night. Princes might escape otherwise.

5. Hiding a wolf in your room is also not an acceptable hobby.

6. Weapons are not to be seen on the dinner table.

7. The breakfast table is the same table as the dinner table.

8. Feeding dwarflings ale until they pass out is no longer allowed.

9. Thorin is not allowed to be alone in the treasure room.

10. Gross medical issues are to be discussed with Oin. Not with family at the dinner table.

11. If gross medical issues are inevitable during dinner, Kili is to be removed immediately to prevent inappropriate jokes.

12. Important secrets are not to be trusted to Fili.

13. “Fuck The Elves” is not an acceptable slogan for a themed party.

14. Even if, you do in fact, mean to fuck the elves.

15. “Fuck The Elves” is also not an acceptable slogan for a t-shirt.

16. “Fuck The Elves” t-shirts are not allowed to be sold.

17. “Fuck The Elves” t-shirts are not to be worn during important meetings with the Mirkwood elves.

18. No walking around the house without any clothes.

19. For every swear word spoken, a gold coin must be tossed in the “no swearing jar”.

20. “Tree-shaggers” is considered a swear word.

21. Wild wolves are also not allowed in Dale. Even if you dressed them up and taught them how to walk on their hind legs.

22. Fili and Kili are not allowed in the throne room without supervision.

23. If Dis says no, don’t run to Thorin and ask the same question.

24. You know Thorin doesn’t do well when arguing with women, so don’t manipulate him into it.

25. Dressing in black and standing in front of the mountain yelling “Winter Is Coming”, is not a fun way to announce snow.

26. Calling Bilbo a “Robbit” is not funny.

27. Parties are no longer allowed to be held without the permission of Thorin.

28. Using the “I am the future king” card will not work against the “I am the current king” card. Not even when you threaten him with old age.

29. Imitating Thorin when he had Dragon-Sickness is considered treason and is punished with running three laps around the mountain.

30. This also counts for royal family.

31. Knocking on Kili’s door at three AM is not funny. You know it scares him.

32. Under no circumstances are Fili and Kili allowed to see the Gremlin movies.

33. Stop referring to Balin as “Santa” around Christmas time.

34. Don’t YOLO anything.

35. Gandalf is not allowed to be alone with Kili.

36. Thorin is not allowed to get his entire head tattooed like Dwalin.

37. Don’t use expensive words to Fili and Kili. They genuinely do not understand it.

38. You can only use five sarcastic comments in a conversation with Dis.

39. We did this for your own safety.

40. Do not play hide and seek in the treasure room.

41. Dwalin is not your personal bodyguard, so don’t force him to come with you every time you visit Dale.

42. Bringing a mountain lion home as an alternative for the wild wolf is definitely NOT considered an acceptable hobby.

43. Fili is not allowed to cook anything. Ever.

44. Threatening to cut your brother’s hair off when you’re losing a game is not considered a “practical joke”.

45. This also counts for Dis.

46. Saying your wild wolf is not a normal wolf but a Direwolf is not a good excuse.

47. Dressing up in bright pink dresses during dinner is not considered a proper dresscode.

48. Especially the ones that are way too small. We can see everything down there.

49. If Fili asks you to kill a spider, no matter the size, kill it, because if you will not, he can, and will, burn down the mountain.

50. Wolves are not allowed within a five mile radius of the mountain.

#incorrect quotes #tolkien #incorrect hobbit quotes #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #Thorin #the company of thorin oakenshield #Fili and Kili #Fili #Kili #dis #kili x reader #fili x reader #thorin x reader #lord of the rings incorrect quotes #lord of The rings #incorrect lord of the rings quotes

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

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From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Seven.

A huge thank you to you all for your continued interest in this little story of mine! Your excitement over it and love really does bring me so much joy :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Words - 4,316

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - Mentions of rape and the associated trauma of such to come in future chapters. While I do not plan on detailing these overtly graphically, there will be detailing of such and conversations surrounding the subject, so if this is a trigger for you, you’d be best not to begin reading the story. 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

High knees while jogging in place. Lord, how he hated it. And she’d made him do it while alternating between other different exercises, too.

“Come on, you’re not even really sweating yet!”

“I can feel it running down my damned back!”

“Pfft, that’s nothing! Okay, jump lunges, twenty on alternating legs and then twenty jump squats, go!”

Ezekiel Reyes; he was a man in two worlds that morning. One of pain, and one of regret. Huge, eclipsing, all-encompassing regret.

“Jump burpees, thirty, go!”

Oh hell.

“Mountain climbers, fifty, go!”

His lungs felt as if he’d inhaled fire.

“Press ups, fifty, go!”

Holy mother of god.

“Back to jump squats, fifty, go!”

“Lily!”

She paused, giving him a curious sideways look. “Oh, does he quit? Is he ready to give up his fifty bucks?”

He wasn’t, so soldiered on. By the time he’d reached twenty-seven jump squats, his body told him that he was, pulling the slightly crumpled bill from his pocket and handing it to her.

“Why thank you, sir.”

He huffed, panting hard, picking up his water bottle and taking a few gulps before emptying it over his head. “You’re evil, and I concede. No wonder you look the way you do when you train that hard, Jesus.”

“Well, I have no choice but to, really. I can’t be anything less than one hundred percent fight ready right now,” she shrugged, taking her own water bottle and chugging back a few mouthfuls.

Indeed, she couldn’t, her match now just two days away. “How’re you feeling about it?” Her cringe made him laugh. “Oh, come on. Your coach wouldn’t have put you into it if he didn’t have faith that you’re competent enough, that you could win.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed, sipping more water. “He said that last time, and I walked away with dented pride and a really bad headache.”

EZ shrugged, standing up and stretching. “And there’s your incentive to go and beat her ass into submission, you have history there, a score to settle. Don’t let her get away with it twice.”

She took a deep breath, sinking down into the side splits to do some stretches. “I hear you, dude. My confidence will kick in eventually. Probably while I’m on my way to the octagon. As soon as I see it, it’s like, I remember who I am then, you know?”

He understood, offering what Lily soon thought to be the perfect analogy. “It’s almost like the octagon is your holy place, the space in which you feel more secure and connected. Kinda like a Muslim at Mecca, except more brutal.”

She beamed at his words. “Yes! That’s exactly it!” Pausing for more water, she took a glug, turning to see her love arriving with Coco through the gates. “Come on, we still have laps to jog, let’s go.”

“Absolutely not,” EZ replies determinedly, receiving a swift, soft kick up the butt.

“Move it! You might have lost, but the workout isn’t finished!” she ordered, pointing ahead. “Come on, pussy. Let’s go!”

He narrowed his eyes as she began to softly jog backwards, her face full of mischievous mirth. “Oh, you’d better run.” He shot after like a lion charging a gazelle, Lily squealing and adding speed to her pace, ducking and darting as she played chicken with him, full of giggles, Coco and Angel pausing to watch the scene unfold.

“Yo! You’re signing your own death warrant, boy scout!” Coco called, Angel remaining tight lipped. It bugged him no end, seeing how well his brother and girlfriend were getting along. It all seemed a shade too close for comfort to him. It only built as a full-on play fight followed, Lily managing to free herself of his grasp upon her wrist, turning under his arm and aiming a strike for his lower back, EZ spinning around and managing to lose an arm again when she grabbed it and twisted it back on him.

“Oh, you bastard!” she shouted, Bishop and Hank coming out to watch the scene, Lily shrieking as EZ attempted to stop her, cheating somewhat, grabbing the back of her thong where it peeked out from over her leggings and pulling, her scream loudening, their audience roaring.

“You gonna die, homes!” Coco called through his laughter, Lily sweeping at his legs, trying to get him over.

“Doubtful.” He yanked her thong higher, Angel not pleased at all seeing his brother grabbing at a handful of his girlfriend’s underwear, frowning heavily, Lily suddenly sweeping at his other leg as she shunted herself against his chest, taking him down, herself too since he refused to let go. She wiggled her way out of his grasp, locking both legs around his arm, holding his wrist in a tight grip and pressing her feet down into his chest, EZ attempting to move, but finding himself totally immobilised, much to his chagrin.

He tried, but he couldn’t free himself from such a hold, Angel finally beginning to see the funny side of it, Lily eventually releasing him, holding her hands aloft as she did a little victory lap. “Armstrong wins again!” she called with delight, EZ eventually getting up and offering his hand, shaking hers before giving her a hug.

“My brother is right, you are dynamite, Lily.”

Lily grinned up at him. “And you’d do well to remember that before trying to win via wedgie ripping!” It should have been a cute sight, EZ conceding, hugging his opponent in admission of his loss, but for Angel, it only made him burn with jealousy. It might have been a play fight, but for him, it had connotations of flirting to it, especially with his brother taking a handful of her underwear, and Lily not even telling him that such a move was wildly inappropriate.

EZ went off to get a shower, Lily moving to Angel, hugging him. He stiffened a little. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You’re all sweaty,” he muttered.

She was a little perplexed. “That doesn’t usually bother you.”

“Yeah, but I ain’t trying to get my clean clothes all messed up, go take a shower first.”

“Angel, is there something wrong? You’re acting off with me,” she questioned, her boyfriend crinkling his nose slightly.

“Nah, we’re good.” They weren’t, though, and she knew it. Something was bugging him. Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to pursue it, running into the clubhouse bathroom to quickly shower and then dress, her shift beginning at the coffee shop in a half hour.

“So, I’ll meet you back here tonight? You can hug me now, too,” she spoke, approaching him. He did, but it wasn’t with his usual warmth. “And we’ll talk too, because something is up with you.”

“Yeah, alright. See ya.”

She kissed him, turning to leave. “Love you.” she called over her shoulder.

“Hmm.” He was pissed off to hell, but when that happened with Angel, when something hit him emotionally, he wasn’t always quick to verbalise it. Sometimes, he would dramatically blow up, and others, he’d seek out another way to let the person know they’d pissed him off.

Unfortunately for Lily, he’d choose the latter. Until then, though, she could only wonder what she’d done wrong. It hit her about ten minutes into her shift, kicking herself as she took cake slices carefully from the catering pack sized box and arranged them neatly within the glass display.

Who had her boyfriend always felt as if he’d lived in a perpetual shadow of? His brother. She suddenly saw it through his eyes, how he might feel insecure over what was simply her making an effort with his family, her actions misconstrued as rejecting him in favour of EZ now that they’d met. She cringed, scrunching her eyes shut as it hit her in waves. Fuck.

They’d both being doing really well, too, until very recently, each of them now having an emotional wobble where there was absolutely no genuine cause for such to occur.

She had to call him.

The sooner she could acknowledge that she knew how it looked, and reassure him just like he had with her and Sofia, the better. Because of the rush, though, she didn’t get a chance to take her lunch break until 2:15pm, sitting in the small staff room at the back of the shop and calling him. No answer. She paid it no mind, figuring he was likely busy and made a note to try again at the end of her break. Still, no answer, nor the other few times she attempted to call him when Carol wasn’t watching her like a hawk. She knew this had less to do with being busy and everything to do with him being annoyed at her.

Sadly, he could be childish at times, so she’d noticed, so she guessed this pouting and ignoring her wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Once she returned to the clubhouse, she planned to pull him aside and talk with him, but upon her arrival, she saw that Angel had very different ideas on how to handle his mood. They included another girl.

Watching the scene as she parked up, she could make him out, him and a few others around the fire pit, sitting there with a girl on his lap, beginning to kiss her as he saw her getting out of the car. Anger shot through her, but she knew he was doing this for a reason, that reason being that he wanted to provoke a fight, sought for it to all blow up. This was him throwing bombs at a good thing, just like he’d warned her. Except she wouldn’t fall for it, or give him what he was seeking.

“Hey, Lilypad,” Taza greeted her with, Lily bending to kiss his cheek. “I have no clue why he’s being like that, but I’m sorry.” he then whispered as he held her head close, Lily nodding.

“And my sugar is where?” Bishop called, making a kissy face at her. He laughed warmly as she made her way to him, bending to greet him with the required kiss, completely ignoring Angel and the barely dressed woman sitting astride him.

“Anyone want a drink?” she asked, looking between him and Taza, Gilly ambling over and taking a seat after greeting her.

“Nah, we’re all set, sweetheart.” Bishop replied, gesturing with his eyes over to Angel and back at her with a questioning face. The look he received told him clearly, it’d get sorted. He could only quietly wonder how, surprised she hadn’t flung the girl off of her boyfriend and then kicked him clean out of his seat.

Going inside, she got her usual of vodka over ice, saying hi to a few more of the guys before heading back out and seating herself next to Taza, turning to watch Angel silently. Everyone felt it, the air thickening, Lily’s displeasure very palpable, until finally, she spoke.

“Care to explain your bullshit to me, Angel?” she asked, calmly and evenly.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from the girl to begin with, making her wait before he finally turned his head. “It’s called payback.”

“Okay, I expected you to be annoyed because of this morning, but really, this is how you’ve chosen to deal with it, by being the guy you said you didn’t want to be any longer? I realise how it might have looked to you, but I thought we could discuss it civilly, not have you act like a complete ass.”

“Oh what, you think you can be all over my brother this morning and I’ll just let that shit slide? Nah, no way. How’d you fucking like it, Lily?” he vented strongly, his brows furrowing.

She was aghast. “All over your brother? We had a playfight, Angel. Big deal!”

“Oh, like the big deal you made of me hugging Sofia the other day, huh?” he charged her with, his temper beginning to ignite.

“Which I apologised for as soon as I knew I was wrong and behaving stupidly!” she yelled, Angel snorting and shaking his head.

“You ain’t over it, though, or you wouldn’t be trying to use my brother to get to me, would you? Didn’t have you pegged for someone who’s vindictive, but apparently, I’m wrong. Either that or you just want his dick, probably a little of both.”

And yet the behaviour she was witnessing from him right then was the very definition of vindictiveness.

“So, you’re doing this just to hurt me, because of what you perceive you saw, right?”

He was defiant in the face of her accusation. “I’m doing this because I want to.”

“Emotional retaliation because you let your jealousy do the talking. I thought you didn’t want to be that guy any longer? The guy who fucks up a good thing?”

He glowered, hands stroking the curve of Izzy’s waist. “Who’s to say you’re a good thing?”

Lily felt her temper spiking, the sharpness of his words cutting, upsetting, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of handing him what he wanted, because she knew exactly what he was doing, and why. “Stop looking for a reaction from me because something I did completely innocently hurt you, because of how you feel about you, and not how you feel about me, or me trying to get to know your brother. Those are your issues. Don’t make them mine when you can’t even have the basic decency to come to me and talk.”

He said nothing, because there was nothing he could come back with in the face of her uncomfortable truth; his uncomfortable truth. “So, if you’re that confident that this is what you want, then fine. Do it right in front of me. Have some balls. Or perhaps, have the fucking stones to do the right thing and admit you fucked up and overreacted. Drama only keeps on biting at your ass because you invite it to do so each and every time, you know. So, come on. As you were.”

She sat back, kicking her feet up on the crate before her, feeling Taza reach to discreetly squeeze the back of her arm. She turned to him, acknowledging his deep nod of respect, her wise new friend telling her without words how well she’d handled the situation.

As Angel sat, he felt himself grow more uncomfortable by the second, each separate thread of that discomfort braiding together within his mind, the fact that once again, he’d acted like an ass because of his own insecurities, that Lily had rightfully shamed him for it in front of three of his brothers, and the growing realisation that she wasn’t prepared to stand for it, sitting there staring at him, her eyes icy, her gaze unwavering.

He’d disappointed himself and her, but she hadn’t let him get away with it, or given him the reaction he’d sought. She could have flounced off, but she hadn’t. Why? She knew they deserved more, and she wasn’t prepared to let him ruin what they had because he was a coward, but by god, she’d make him acknowledge it, be answerable to both his wrongs and her, all in one fell swoop.

No other woman had seen straight through his bullshit like that before.

He straightened, looking up at Izzy. “Yeah, you need to leave.”

The girl made a hmph noise of light annoyance, climbing from his lap and sauntering back into the clubhouse, Angel looking over at Lily, arms folded, her face expectant. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“No,” she began, nodding to Bishop, Gilly and Taza. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them.”

Oh, hell. She wasn’t going to make anything easy for him.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Her question was so cold and biting, he was surprised those two words didn’t freeze as soon as they left her mouth.

“For acting like a fucking pendejo.”

“And why did you act like a pendejo, exactly?”

His mouth tightened, discomfort riddling him. “Because I’m self-destructive where women are concerned.”

“And what are you not going to do in the future?”

Oh, she was really, really going to town on him, Bishop and Gilly glancing at one another, cringing on Angel’s behalf, although they both separately thought that this was exactly what he needed, a damned good dressing down by his girlfriend for his bullshit. Taza only looked on at her proudly, such was the weight of his genuine affection for the young woman he’d befriended. Also, as much as he loved him, Angel had it coming. This was, after all, why he hadn’t been able to keep a steady girlfriend in years, which was a presence in his life Taza knew he needed probably more than most.

“I’m not going to fuck things up by running off with someone else just because I feel...”

“Because you feel what?”

He inhaled sharply through his nose, bolting back his beer. “Because I feel insecure!” God, he hated her in that moment for making him speak the truth, absolutely mortified by it, but shit, underneath, did he love her for it, too. She wasn’t giving up on him, and she was determined to show him how much of a better person he was capable of being. His bullshit? I wasn’t going to work on Lily. He wouldn’t, or rather couldn’t, scare her away.

She nodded with satisfaction, standing up slowly as she walked to him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “That is because no matter how much of a stupid fuck you are, I love you.” She then recoiled her fist and punched him sharply, straight in the eye. “And that is for trying to make me look like an idiot. You will never, ever fucking try and taunt me with another woman again because of your own internal crap, or next time, I throw you in that cage over there and really go to town on you, and by the time I’m done, you won’t have the luxury of calling me your girlfriend. You’ll just have broken bones, cuts and bruises. Learn your damned lesson from this, Angel Reyes.”

“Ooooh, she’s pissed!” Gilly whispered, wincing, Bishop crushing the side of his tongue between his teeth to prevent himself from laughing, Taza not even bothering biting back the smirk.

“I deserved that, I did,” Angel began, gingerly touching his eye. Fuck, she threw a mean punch. “You want another drink?”

“My usual, please.”

“Alright. And I am sorry, baby. I know I fucked up. I know. I’m gonna make it right with you, though, I swear.” He turned, heading back into the clubhouse. As soon as the door had swung shut behind the blare of loud music, Bishop broke, snorting before hysterical laughter followed, Gilly and Taza both in similar states.

“You’re in the wrong job, Lily,” he began. “You should be a fucking interrogator. You’d empty Guantanamo in about twenty minutes!”

She sat back down, Taza pulling her into a hug, kissing atop her head. “He’s needed a woman to do that to him for years. Trust me, darling. That’ll be the last time he ever acts up!” They continued to laugh hysterically for a couple of moments before composing themselves, Angel coming back out with a massive measure of vodka and a beer... and a towel with ice in it, which as soon as he rested against his eye, had Bishop in hysterics again.

“Fuck you, Bish! You should be on the receiving end of one of her punches, shit man, she don’t play!”

“And you deserved it, my friend,” Bishop replied, swigging his beer, knowing that the entertainment value of the moment wouldn’t leave him for a while. “If you’re gonna pick a chick who does MMA for fun as your sweetie, you have to expect that she might, just might, be a little temperamental if you piss her off.”

“Yeah, me and my stinging eye know all about it, thank you.”

“Don’t be a drama queen, baby,” Lily warned softly, reaching to stroke his forearm, her anger towards him beginning to simmer.

“I’m not! Woman, you just slugged me so hard, I saw the faces of my damned ancestors for a few seconds!” His words only stoked the laughter at his expense, Lily eventually cooling off enough to join them.

“And did they tell you to stop being a prick as well?”

He muttered something under his breath, sipping his beer. “I’m glad y’all think this is hilarious!”

“Don’t worry, we do.” Taza’s chuckles rumbled on, reaching to squeeze Lily’s hand.

Angel looked between her and the ground a few times, her eyes falling back upon him. “We good?”

Her nostrils flared, only ever so slightly, her jaw twitching. “Not quite. We’ll discuss it more later on.” Once back at her place three hours later, that’s exactly what they did, sitting out on her small balcony, sharing a bottle of tequila.

He knew she was still mad at him, he could see it clearly through her frosty demeanour, knowing he’d have to work his ass off to claw back a little of her trust again. What he’d done, childishly trying to make her feel like shit because of his insecurity, had triggered her own, of being abandoned, of not being someone’s choice long term... the exact same issues he had in relationships.

“I feel like such a dick for what I did, I really do,” he admitted, sighing. “I just... seeing you and EZ getting on so well, and he was always the one who was better than me, fucking golden boy, he had everything that I didn't, so...”

Where he trailed off, Lily filled in the blanks. “So why wouldn’t he have me too? Why would I want you with him on offer?” He nodded, his lips pressed together firmly. “Except, your brother isn’t on offer to me, and I’m not on offer to him. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“He said you’re hot, when we discussed you.” That was hardly reason for Angel to have freaked out in the way that he did, but she got it.

“That doesn’t mean shit! All I want from EZ is to be his friend, and you know full well he loves you too much to ever make moves towards me. Has he done that in the past, gone after one of your girls?”

“Nope.”

“Well then!” She softened a little then, realising her exasperated tone wasn’t necessary. Of course, she’d had a similar visceral reaction in storming off after seeing Angel innocently catching up with Sofia only a few days before, him having to reassure her it wasn’t what she thought. She’d got over it without feeling the need to punish him, though. Angel, it seemed, was very different in that respect.

“You can’t punish me for trying to get to know your family. You could have given me the chance to reassure you, like you did when I flipped at seeing you hugging Sofia, but you didn’t, and that’s what really hurt me, the vindictiveness of it.”

He shook his head, shrugging. “I guess I’m just a bad guy who doesn’t deserve you.”

No. She wasn’t having that. “Angel, you have a really good heart; you just need to unwrap the layers of razor wire which surround it, or no one will ever be able to get close to it. I’ve been putting the work in, since you turned up at the coffee shop and made me face up to my toxic shit of running away, and that was right at the damned start. I’ve now been cut on your razor wire, so unless you want me to keep on bleeding because of you, it’s time to remove it and fucking let me in properly. I thought you had, but really, you wouldn’t have gone to such lengths if that were true.”

He breathed in deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “It’s fucking terrifying, how well you know me, know my shit,” he began, bolting back the tequila, Lily following suit before he topped off their glasses. “However, it’s also a comfort, not that I’ve wanted to let it be much of one. I know that I need to, though, that there’s probably nobody else out there who’s better for me than you are, or who’ll ever understand me like you do. And I did let you in, baby. I have, more than any woman I can remember in recent years. I just let my toxic behaviour take over and I won’t do it again. I promise you.”

Her mouth twitched at the corner, Lily nodding just once, tongue rolling around her mouth softly as he continued. “Another thing about you that I love, you don’t accept me for who I am either, because who I am is a fucking jerk. You accept me for who you know I’m capable of being, the man you’ve seen, the man I have been when I’m with you, up until today.”

“We are all but one person, Angel,” she began, lighting a cigarette, knocking the pack across the table to him with her fingernail. “It just depends on whether we feed our light, or our dark.”

He took a deep breath, drawing up a little before resting back, letting the air out slowly though his nose before reaching for the cigarette packet. “That shit’s profound.”

“Yes, and if you were brave enough to feed your light a little more where instances like today are concerned and just talk to me, you could be profoundly happy. We could be profoundly happy. I mean, I thought you were until tonight.” She got up, moving across the small space, shimmying between the rail and the table, seating herself across his lap. “Are you brave enough to be happy?”

The way he kissed her was all the answer she needed.

#angel reyes #angel reyes smut #Angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes x ofc #angel reyes x oc #mayans mc #mayans fanfiction #mayans fanfic #mayans fic #clayton cardenas #clayton cardenas fanfiction #clayton cardenas smut #clayton cardenas x ofc

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mask131 · 2 years

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Magical summer: Circe

CIRCE

Category : Greco-roman mythology

Circe is without a doubt the most famous witch and sorceress of all of Greek mythology (well maybe outside of Medea).

I) The Greek Circe

Circe’s great fame began with one of the texts that formed the literary foundation of Greek mythology: Homer’s Odyssey (8th century BCE). Very interestingly, in this original depiction of her Circe is not actually considered a human being, she is rather called a “goddess with human speech”. It was indeed the opinion of Greek mythology, and of many Greek authors surrounding Homer’s era, that Circe was actually a minor goddess, one of the “immortals” (though, as the “human speech” part indicates, unlike other gods she speaks, live, behave and seems like a regular human) – it is only later, in ulterior Greek works and in Roman mythology, that Circe was devolved into becoming a human sorceress, a mortal witch. Homer also insisted on how pretty she was, and on how she had very “lovely hair”.

In The Odyssey, Circe is depicted as the mistress and ruler of a small island of Aeaea, where she lives in a building alternatively called her mansion/palace, and her temple. Assisted by all-female servants, she has around her temple-palace a bunch of wild animals acting as pets: mountain lions and mountain wolves that are actually as docile as lambs. In truth, these animals aren’t really animals: they are human beings, more precisely human men, that Circe turned into animals. It is her fancy and “game” to turn into beasts all men that arrive on her island. When Odysseus’ crew arrives on the island, those sent to explore the island’s woods hear the beautiful singing of Circe and discover her palace. She invites them inside to a feast, offering them food. But what the men ignore is that she places a magical poison in the food she gives men – once ingested, she just has to take a wand, touch them with it while reciting some incantations, and they turn into beasts. This time, into pigs. You see, this is actually Circe’s magic, what Homer calls in Greek “polypharmakos”. “Pharmakos” was an ancient Greek word equivalent to the English “drug”, as in “pharmakos” designates both a healing medicine and a deadly poison (the Greeks had already discovered that often healing products could turn deadly on heavy doses, or that deadly products on small doses could improve health – as a result they gathered all those products under one category, the ��pharmakos”). But the “pharmakos” also meant by extension all sorts of magical concoctions, brews and philters that could both do harm or improve one’s condition – aka magic potions. Circe’s magic and enchantment relies greatly and mostly on her using potions and poisons to enact her spells.

In fact, when Odysseus goes to confront her, the god Hermes appears before him and gives him the way to beat the witch-goddess: he needs to ingest a special herb (a mysterious plant called the “moly”) before eating what Circe gives him – this herb will counter the effect of the sorceress’ poison. And indeed – no matter how much she touches Odysseus with her wand, she cannot actually turn him into anything. After he threatens her with his sword, she tries to seduce him and to lure him into her bed for… some pleasures. But he refuses out of two things – one, he knows that sorceress and goddess can actually weaken and ravish men’s life-force through sex, it is a common tactic to make men impotent and slave to the female ; second, he only agrees to go along with her if she makes a solemn swear, an “oath of the immortals” to not harm him or his men in any way. Only after this oath is struck can he actually accept Circe’s charms, and force her to restore his men to normal (though Odysseus never asks her to restore the other animals of the island).

Once this little incident is over with, Circe actually turns out to be a great helper to Odysseus and his crew – she lets them stay on her island for a whole year, giving them all the comfort, food and wine they want (it is also highly suggested that she and Odysseus become lovers) ; when they say they need to go she agrees but first tells them how to find their road home (by going into the Underworld), and when they return from Hades’ realm she studies the map they found there and warns them about the different sea dangers awaiting and how to get out of them. Because it is the other main “power” of Circe: her great knowledge. She knows how to enter and exit the Underworld, she knows who you have to ask for to solve your problem, she knows everything about the monsters and dangers of the sea and how to avoid them… Knowledge is power and info is magic, you know?

Another very important source of info about the Greek version of Circe is a 3rd century BC epic poem known as the “Argonautica”, written by a certain Apollonius, and telling the story of another famous group of sea-sailing heroes, the Argonauts.

This poem takes the same genealogy that Homer mentioned, making Circe the daughter of Helios, the god of the sun, and Perse, one of the Oceanids (nymphs of the ocean) – the poem also adds that Circe has a brother, who is the mortal king Aeëtes (keeper of the Golden Fleece, father of Medea the other great witch of mythology), and a sister, Pasiphaë, wife of Minos and the queen famous for birthing the Minotaur. The poem heavily insists on her relationship with her father the Sun – it claims that she arrived to the island she ruled today thanks to her father, who took her on his flaming chariot and placed her on Aeaea (here said to be south of Elba) ; and it adds that “like all descendants of Helios”, she has golden eyes able to shoot out rays of light. In the poem, her niece Medea and her lover Jason visit her after committing a murder, so that she could purify them from the moral and religious soiling caused by this crime. The couple does not actually tell her who they murdered or why, they just ask her help for a murder and she agrees to purify them – but she is not fooled and actually seems to know somehow who their victim was (Medea’s own brother), greatly disapproving of this action. She still decides to purify them – she does so by slitting the throat of a baby pig and letting its blood drip on the murderous couple. Due to not approving or liking the murder, she orders them to leave her island immediately and never return, because Medea is still the murder of her brother (and so of Circe’s nephew) – but due to having pity for Medea, she also adds that she won’t be an obstacle on their way and won’t try to take any kind of revenge or punishment on them. The poem mentions the animal inhabiting the island of Circe, though it does not specify that they used to be humans – in fact, the description is very weird… it says that they are basically entities between wild animals and human beings, not fully either and yet not truly both, just looking like a bizarre medley of various human and animal limbs.

There is a long tradition talking about the “sons of Odysseus and Circe”. Another fundamental text of Greek mythology, Hesiod’ Theogony (8th century BCE), mentions that from the love between Circe and Odysseus were born three sons: Agrius, Latinus (who would rule over the Latins) and Telegonus (who would rule over the Etruscans). Another epic poem, called the “Telegony” actually covered this story of Circe’s children: in it, Telegonus, wishing to know who his absent and missing father was, asked his mother for his name, and upon learning it sailed to Odysseus’ island-kingdom of Ithaca with a poisonous spear (gift of his mother). Arriving on the island and hearing that Odysseus is absent, due to being at war, Telegonus starts ravaging and destroying the kingdom – Odysseus returns to protect his land and fight Telegonus in battle, though both ignore each other’s identity. Telegonus kills Odysseus before learning who he truly was, and he brings back the corpse of his dead father to Aeaea, taking with him Penelope (Odysseus’ wife) and Telemachus (Odysseus’ son) : after burying Odysseus, Circe made Telegonus, Penelope and Telemachus immortals – then she married Telemachus, and Penelope married Telegonus, and they all lived together. At least… this is one possible version of the story. You see, the “Telegony” is actually a lost poem so we only have second-hand accounts and ancient recaps to trust, and another retelling of the story gives a very different ending: Circe, upon seeing Odysseus corpse, uses her magical herbs and potions to bring him back to life. Odysseus marries his son Telemachus to Circe’s daughter, Cassiphone. But after a quarrel, Telemachus kills Circe by accident, and Cassiphone has to kill him to avenge her mother – and it ends with Odysseus dying of grief.

As you can note by the fact Circe is depicted dying – by this point, Circe had already begun transitioning from an immortal goddess to a mortal witch.

II) The Roman Circe

If the Greeks loved Circe, so did the Romans. Circe’s legends and myths got buffed up a LOT by Latin writers – but unlike the Ancient Greeks, the Romans perceived Circe much more as a semi-divine witch, a mortal sorceress.

When Ovid decided to transliterate and Romanize numerous Greek myths, in his work “Metamorphoses”, he added a brand-new legend about Circe. In this story, Circe falls in love with a sea god named Glaucus, but he is in turn in love with a beautiful woman named Scylla. Scylla spurns and rejects Glaucus’ love, so he comes to Circe’s domain asking for her magical help to make Scylla fall in love with him (unaware of Circe’s love). The jealous sorceress decided to punish her rival – and so she created a terrible potion that she poured in the water in which Scylla was about to take her bath. When the poisonous water touched the naked woman, it turned her into an atrocious and horrible monster (the same monster described in Homer’s Odyssey).

Ovid also added another tale of Circe and transformations: in it, Circe, as she was picking up herbs for her potions in the woods, met a man who was hunting boars. She fell in love with him – trouble is that this man was the king of Latium, a man named Picus, and he was already married to a nymph named Canens. As a result he refused Circe’s love and rejected her attempts at seducing him. Furious, Circe turned Picus into the very first woodpecker.

The story of Picus was actually carried over from an early source: before Ovid wrote his Metamorphoses in the 1st century of our era, another Latin writer, Virgil, had already talked about it in his epic poem, “The Aeneid”, a Latin sequel to Homer’s “Odyssey” supposed to explain the origin of the Roman people. In this story, as the hero Aeneas travels through the seas from Greece to Italy, he careful avoids the island of Circe, knowing too well the dangers awaiting him there, but he hears from far away the cries of the numerous men she turned into animals : lions and boars and bears and wolves…

It is quite interesting to see Circe’s evolution throughout history, starting out as a powerful immortal sorceress with helping powers and whose all “turning men into animals” seems to be more a sort of test to prove people’s worth… and ending up as a petty, men-obsessed witch that turn people into monsters and beasts left and right.

- - -

Circe had a HUGE success in artistic and philosophical works even beyond Antiquity. From Middle-Ages and the Renaissance up to today, Circe's story and legends are still heavily interpreted, reinterpreted, debated and talked about. Odyssey' legend about her turning Odysseus' crew into pigs has notably been heavily debated. Some saw in this the symbol of a female dominance asserted by reducing men into beasts ; others saw a metaphor for the dangers of drunkness or drug-taking ; others proposed a reverse interpretation where Circe was trying to "gift" them and "help" them by reducing them to carefree beasts with very simple lifes, far away from the difficulties and troubles of a human life... There are huge talks of the idea of "reason", in that Circe turning men into beasts can be seen as her taking away all "reason" through magic, because a man without reason is a beast ; many authors liked to imagine parodies, satires and comical pieces where the transformed men compare their human life and current condition, sometimes ending with the victims of Circe begging not to be turned back into humans. But reverse takes exist depicting the horrors of being a human stuck into an animal's body) ; and of course there was also a HUGE talk about the sexual undertext of it all. Circe is a seducer and charmer, who first tempts Odysseus' men with food and wine (gluttony) and then tempts Odysseus with sex (lust) ; and there are heavy talks as to whether Circe is a figure of the female power over men, of the powerful and dominating woman, or if she is a symbol of the "dangers and evils" of a woman... There is a pretty common consensus that the men being turned into beasts aren't just turned into animals by magic but also by their passion ; or that them becoming beasts is just revealing their true nature: for example a tradition starting with Niccolo Macchiaveli's unfinished poem "The Golden Ass" claims that each different animals corresponds to the main traits of Circe's victims. Those turned into lions were particularly brave, those turned into bears were violent brutes, those turned into wolves were always dissatisfied and frustrated in life, etc...

#magical summer #witch #legend #myth #greek mythology #circe #goddess #greek #magic #transformation #roman mythology

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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What do you think would happen if one of the Cullens realized they might also be "in love" with Bella during Twilight along side Ed. Mates be damned (not like their marriages are gonna last anyway), and everyone's on the table (just 1 love rival, not at the same time buuuuut could you imagine the chaos? *cough*). The usual Bella eaten/killed by Eddy boi is def on the table obvie, but like do you think there's a chance he might concede to one of his family (or just any other alternatives)? -Sw

Oh boy.

Why I Don’t Think This Is a Possibility

That said, I have to caveat that I don’t think this is a very likely path (sorry, I cannot resist).

It’s true I don’t think any of the Cullen relationships will last in the long term, but I also don’t think they’re inclined to cheat on one another or fall apart at a moment’s notice. They’ve made it this long, several decades, but more, none of them realizes anything is lacking from their respective relationship.

Carlisle and Esme are very devoted to one another and don’t realize they have fundamentally conflicting values. Jasper and Alice think they fulfil each other’s needs and don’t realize that they share nothing in common. Rosalie and Emmett’s is the healthiest relationship in the house but don’t see their major issues (Emmett doesn’t really support or understand Rosalie and Rosalie loves Emmett mostly for his love of her).

My point being, none of them are going to realize it’s not working out anytime soon. They’re going to need a catalyst, and per the end of Twilight, one is coming. Either a confrontation with the Volturi occurs, Renesmee decides to leave, the Cullen lifestyle changes, or things with Bella go awry. It can be any number of things, and it will happen given time, but at the start of Twilight we haven’t hit that point yet.

There’s also the fact that of the Cullens, only Edward would do this nonsense, and even for him it takes Bella’s delicious blood to grab his attention. When she was an ordinary human, he was not interested in the slightest, not even in her gift.

Each of the Cullens (Sans Alice and Esme) is completely baffled by Edward’s emotional whiplash and attachment to this human girl he doesn’t even know. Bella only becomes a vague concept to them when she enters as a serious fixture in Edward’s life, but even then, they really don’t know what to think.

No one in the family will do what Edward did in Twilight. Look at this girl they don’t even know and say “Ah, yes, I’m in love.”

Now, that out of the way, let’s play ball.

Alice

This actually will work out shockingly well if only because I suspect Alice will come up with the pragmatic solution of “sharing”.

First, Alice is by far the closest Cullen member to Edward. He holds her in high esteem, feels a strong sense of kinship with her, actually confides in her, and sees her as a very close friend. Edward looks up to Carlisle and adores Esme, but it’s not the same.

If Alice sees herself as getting together with Bella I don’t think she’d see this as mutually exclusive to Edward having Bella. Alice cares deeply for Edward’s happiness, far more than she does Bella’s general existence, and I think the idea of entering a joint marriage with Edward and Bella would be very appealing to her.

She’d have to ease Edward into it, of course, as he’d balk at the very idea of it, but I think he’d see it as a strengthening of his and Alice’s relationship as well as having the wonderful Bella. Better yet, Alice can be physical with Bella while Edward can go compose music about their love.

As it is this... This is kind of what happens in canon.

Alice tells Edward that not only is he in love with Bella, but that Bella is going to be her best friend, so he better not muck it up. She has to ease him into the idea of being in love with Bella throughout the first part of Twilight. Then, when the relationship is solidified, Alice is right there introducing herself as Bella’s new BFF. Bella’s friendship with Alice throughout the series is extremely homoerotic and I imagine it remains so after Breaking Dawn.

Edward is very pleased that Bella counts Alice as her best friend, Alice being far and away his favorite sibling and the one he approves of Bella spending time with (generally, when she’s not foiling his schemes).

I don’t think Alice and Bella will ever have sex, per se, but I imagine they remain quite physical with each other and Edward looks on with approval thinking to himself that this is how all female friendships should be.

And if Jasper has the nagging suspicion his wife is cheating on him then he’s not functioning quite well enough to put it into words just yet.

Carlisle

Edward would lose his mind.

First, Edward is very into Carlisle, and for all he insists his feelings are filial they sound remarkably romantic. I’d drop a quote, but it’s pretty much every time Edward thinks of Carlisle in Midnight Sun. More than that, Carlisle is the man Edward aspires to be, someone he sees as profoundly more good than he could ever hope to be.

Edward projects a very similar personality onto Bella herself.

So, I imagine if Carlisle sits Edward down and says, “Actually, Edward, I have fallen in love with this Bella” Edward feels very conflicting things all at once.

On the one hand, this means Esme/Carlisle is collapsing. Edward personally brought those two together and adores the idea of their relationship. Their relationship is what he hopes his and Bella’s will look like and is to him the married ideal of a perfect Mother and a perfect Father.

Carlisle/Esme alone falling apart would give him a complete existential crisis. That’s not allowed to happen.

And then that Carlisle wants Bella Swan for himself?! Edward would be faced with the immediate,horrifying, thought that for all Carlisle is a vampire he would be the perfect man for saint like Bella. Carlisle and Bella deserve one another, would be perfect together, and Edward should not begrudge them that.

On the other hand, Edward himself is in love with Bella, and while he thought he could nobly leave her, now he has to nobly stand to the side and watch as Carlsile and her marry. It’d be a very romantic and tragic thing to do, but there’s leaving Bella to her human life, and then watching her up front for the rest of eternity while bitterly hiding his feelings.

More, Carlisle will turn her. If Bella is his true love, then there’s no question of that. Edward’s seen where this goes with Emmett. He will destroy Bella Swan to be with her forever, and Edward will have to live with the shell of Bella Swan staring back at him, fucking his father, forever.

I imagine Edward desperately pretends to concede to Carlisle, to be happy for the pair of them, but as things progress and Bella’s permanent position in the family looks more and more likely, he loses his mind. He’ll snap and there is no telling what he might do.

My money’s on him mercy killing Bella while she’s still human behind Carlisle’s back. He’s sobbing while he does it, but he just can’t let Bella be tarnished by vampirism, and now he will carry this tragic, terrible, secret for the rest of time.

Whether Carlisle was going to turn her or not is up to debate. Given he turned none after Emmett, I think he learned his lesson from Rosalie and would be more than willing to let Bella go, even if he loves her, should it mean he would not force something she does not want and does not understand upon her.

That said, I think he’d never tell Edward his feelings for Bella, as that would ruin Edward’s fledgling relationship with the girl. This is Edward’s first brush with love and seems to be the only romantic love he’ll ever have. Edward has been so miserable for so long that Carlisle would easily give up his own happiness for Edward.

So, more likely, Twilight would happen anyway and Carlisle would spend the entire time being utterly miserable and pretending he’s perfectly fine. LOOK HOW HAPPY HE IS, ESME.

Emmett

Edward tattles to Rosalie immediately.

He loves Emmett, but he knows Emmett can’t possibly be serious about this, and more, fundamentally doesn’t understand how wonderful and amazing Bella is. He wants to turn her into a vampire, clearly, Emmett doesn’t know what’s best for the girl.

More, a man who would so easily break his marriage vows (even to Rosalie), does not deserve Bella Swan.

Edward watches Rosalie and Emmett’s marriage utterly disintegrate with a juice box filled with mountain lion blood and swoops in on Bella while Emmett is thoroughly distracted. Edward then gaslights Bella into believing Emmett is dangerous and despises her, making Emmett the new and improved Jasper.

Esme

Esme would never tell Edward or likely even realize her feelings for Bella herself. If she did though, she would give up the possibility of a future with Bella Swan in a heartbeat for Edward’s happiness, which means everything to her.

Esme will have no regrets, won’t even smile sadly at Bella, because she has Carlsile as her consolation prize and she gets to see the joy in both Bell and Edward’s faces which is far more important than having Bella to herself.

Esme would live vicariously through Bella and Edward’s relationship as well as the very existence of Renesmee.

Like Alice, this is one of those things that’s pretty much canon. I won’t say anything for Esme’s feelings, it’s more that Esme ships Bella with Edward (and mostly because Edward himself comes to obsess over her), but she does seem to vicariously get her joy through their nuclear family within the Cullen family.

Esme is a very strange person.

Jasper

Edward would attempt to murder Jasper or at least severely injure him. Jasper would be the ultimate threat to Bella, not even a man unworthy of her but not a man at all, and exactly what Edward needs to protect Bella against.

Alice tries to stop the fight, to no avail, and Edward will ultimately lose (despite all his confidence). I imagine Jasper doesn’t kill him, but tears apart his limbs, and uses Edward’s lack of mobility to kidnap and then turn Bella.

Bella has no idea what’s happening and the next thing she knows she’s a vampire and Jasper is telling her they have to leave the area (as he must now leave the coven).

Edward tries to track them down for the rest of eternity. He will get vengeance upon Jasper and save Bella this terrible demonic existence forced upon her. Of course, he ends up lost in Rio.

Rosalie

Edward would tell her that her feelings cannot possibly be real. Bella is a woman. More, Rosalie is unworthy of Bella in every possible regard, even more so than Edward himself.

Basically, Edward would lay into Rosalie in a way that he never has before with all of his venom. He will do everything he can to sabotage Bella’s opinion of Rosalie before Rosalie can even get a word in edgewise. He is successful at it due to Bella’s perilously low self esteem (much the reason he was successful with this endeavor in canon).

Rosalie and Edward get in a vicious fight and I imagine Rosalie eventually confronts Bella, making an opportunity to do so, and both warns her away from Edward, tells her everything, and offers to turn her despite Rosalie’s own mixed experiences.

Rosalie and Edward probably then fight and it quickly turns into something that’s very serious. If Edward wins, he murders Rosalie in the heat of the moment, and then leaves the coven in horror over what Carlisle must think of him now. If Rosalie wins... I don’t think she will, she cares for Edward far too much and would never truly be able to aim to kill or maim.

Edward disappears, drowning in his self hatred, and returns to find Bella Swan at some later date unable to resist the call of her scent. Depending where she is in her life, he likely murders her human husband if she has one and dvours her, as Alice prophesied so long ago.

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traincat · 3 years

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idk if my ask ever got through but it was about the daemon au u posted a year ago(?) . saw that peter has a big cat as his daemon but how would that work out with being spiderman? or would it have to be a no powers au?

Hey anon, I think your original ask might've gotten lost in my inbox. I've been saving a lot asks to answer when I have more attention to devote to them and this one probably got buried under a pile because I do remember getting a previous ask about daemons.

When I was playing around with a daemon AU it was more of just like a general concept than a fully fleshed out fic idea, and what I was doing was running characters through this quiz, just answering how I thought each character would answer: https://app.ex.co/stories/laurenb90/what-is-your-daemon (It's a really good way to kill a couple of hours btw and I've overall been really happy with the results it gives.)

So I wasn't really thinking of how Peter would get around as Spider-Man with a gigantic mountain lion attached to his soul. Ben and Kaine, for reference, both got much easier to manage and very thematically appropriate spider daemons, but running through the quiz with 616 Peter has only ever spit out big cats for me. For me personally unless it's a specific situation, I don't really like writing no powers!Peter fic because I feel like Peter as a character is someone who has evolved and grown so much with his powers that when you take those away, you have to really think about who he is, and that person is not going to be the exact same character as Peter with powers. So then with something like a daemon AU, can I justify Peter having such an aggressive daemon if his personality hasn't evolved along the specific lines it evolved in because he has powers? It's the chicken, the egg, and the daemon. I think if I was writing the fic I would either have to adjust the daemon just for the sake of simplicity -- even though I really like Peter with a big cat, and running Norman through the quiz landed him with a lion, so I like the symbolism of them having kind of matching daemons -- or I would have to make up some bullshit about the spider-bite giving him the ability to be further away from his daemon than a normal person could be. Comic book magic! You just do whatever you want and blame it on radiation. If Marvel got away with it for 60 years, so can the rest of us.

The other alternative is I don't set it in 616. I did run two other versions of Peter -- TASM and Noir -- through the above daemon quiz and they both gave me the same and much easier to deal with when writing fic about an aerialist daemon: an osprey! I actually have a thread with all the TASM (and one Fant4stic) daemon results I ran through on Twitter from a while ago if anyone wants to see. So yeah, just from like, a being Spider-Man perspective, the osprey is just much easier to work with, but I still really like the big cat, so it's just kind of a matter of, if I was writing it, how would I make it work.

I'm pretty partial to 616 though just because it's my favorite and because I've run so many people through it that I have a really complete list of side character daemons. Please look at 616 Harry's pug daemon.

#*replies #myfic

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sugarstickery · 3 years

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An Allegory Within the Dark

This is an unofficial fan translation of chapter 3 of Jujutsu Kaisen’s first light novel, Departing Summer and Returning Autumn by Gege Akutami and Ballad Kitaguni.

Summary: Mahito stumbles across an unusual human in his search for a place to call ‘home’.

Featured characters: Primarily Mahito, with brief appearances from Hanami and Jogo, along with an unnamed novel-only character

Timeline: An undefined time prior to the events of the Vs. Mahito arc

An Allegory Within the Dark

If you want to hide a tree, you go to the middle of a forest.

So if you’re looking to hide a person, you should go to the middle of a city.

Following that logic, it makes sense for curses worthy of being the true humans to set up their hideout in the city center.

Cursed spirits would actually have it much easier if they spent their time in places crammed with fear where humans and the like can’t live: deep in the mountains or in densely wooded areas, for example.

But for a group of curses plotting to overturn the current era, a base in the heart of the city is crucial for invasion and seeking refuge. That being the case, it’s also better to try aiming for a location with a high concentration of negativity.

Anyway, that’s how some employees from a scam business ended up massacred.

“This really is the simplest way to handle it. All of them nest together up here away from the public eye, so clean-up is a cinch.”

Jogo laughed while trampling the burning remains of a corpse underfoot.

Roughly two minutes ago, there were about six humans in the office.

The curses considered a few ways to handle dispatching them but ultimately decided that burning was the fastest, so Jogo quickly turned them to ash.

“But humans used this building, didn’t they? Won’t it be a problem if there’s property management or something?” Mahito asked, poking at an ostentatious vase displayed on a shelf.

Apparently the concern was unnecessary. Jogo tried to answer with a grin, but a nonsensical language cut into their conversation.

“⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⎎⍜⋏⏁ ⟟⌇ ☊⎍⌇⏁⍜⋔”

“Oi, bastard—! Stop talking, Hanami! It makes my head itch!”

Though Hanami spoke in nothing but meaningless sounds, the intention behind it was somehow transmitted directly into the minds of others. This was usually unpleasant and it irritated Jogo.

When he noticed Mahito still looking his way, Jogo continued to explain despite his frustration.

“Hmph... What? There’s no need to worry. I asked Geto what his aim was, and it looks like these were the kind of underhanded humans who got involved in plenty of unethical things.”

“Hm. So basically, other humans won’t actually come close if they get that curse stuff happens here.”

“Exactly. Any respectable, straight-laced human would never come near this place under normal circumstances. It’s the perfect city-center hideout.”

“Is it really?”

“...What is it, Mahito? You don’t seem satisfied. What’s there to worry about? It would put us in a great position to start preparing our plans for the city, and it’s great for a quick escape if we need one.”

“Mm... No, you’re right, but...”

“But what? Spit it out.”

“It’s just... This room is really tacky.”

“Huh?”

With a pop, a small eruption burst forth from Jogo’s head. His narrowed eye looked like a painting of a gently sloping mountain.

“It’s tasteless, isn’t it? Stuff like that gaudy gold lion in the sparkly jar or this cheap-looking sideboard.”

“What are you even saying?! I have no idea what’s gotten into you lately, but you’ve been so annoying!”

“Movies.”

“Movies? Are those overly-embellished portrayals of humans really that interesting?”

“They’re references for my studies on the structure of a soul,” Mahito replied with an ambiguous smile.

If humans could see him, they might be reminded of a proud elementary schooler discussing the knowledge they gained from a book report.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t find the stories that interesting either, but I don’t hate the sense of visual aesthetics that humans have. That said, this room has too many useless colors and really hurts the eyes.”

“Such bratty, selfish complaints... We can just burn or toss anything that’s an eyesore.”

“No need, I’m going to look for a place to settle down on my own.”

“What? Ah, hey— Where are you going?”

Not waiting for Jogo’s response, Mahito waved over his shoulder and vanished like smoke or a gentle breeze, off to who-knows-where.

“Geez… Maybe it’s because he was born from human fear, but even knowing he’s a curse, he tends to be way too frivolous. Watching movies and all…”

While grumbling out his complaints, Jogo took a pipe from his shirt pocket to put in his mouth.

Unlike human cigarettes, this wooden pipe somehow imitated a screaming face when smoked.

“But that Mahito...”

Jogo spun around to survey the room with his one eye.

“...He says that, but it doesn’t seem tacky to me.”

“⊑⏃⋏⏃⋔⟟”

“I already said shut up!!”

You can only find a hideaway that suits you by looking for it on your own.

Mahito wandered through the city with this in mind. He alternated left and right turns on a whim any time he happened across a traffic light, walked alongside stray cats, or sometimes simply went in the direction of clouds that he liked the shape of.

While traveling along his chosen path like this, he keenly felt just how laughable humans were.

Though the city belongs to them, no one walking in and out of it was more free than Mahito.

Everyone seemed constrained. They were captured by ties of obligation and vanity, living in a wide, deep, big city with such narrow outlooks.

Unaffected by the enormous sky sprawling out endlessly overhead, they box themselves into their concrete city with their own hands and limited perception of souls, passing the time by whittling their lives down further and further.

Mahito even learned the words for some of these human concepts to study later.

For example, they call it “morals”. They call it “common sense”. They call it “emotion”.

But a human soul isn’t anything more than the resulting mechanical movement that comes from external stimuli.

And so they let go of freedom and live tightly controlled lives, fearing the judgmental stares of others, stooping to flattery for society’s approval.

“...What a waste.”

Everyone is bound by ostentatious shackles of their own making.

That’s why these curses know there has to be a change, as far as humans go. Those who cannot do anything but crawl in such an unsightly way under the magnificent sky must hand over the world.

Mahito thinks. He ponders over any topic his soul turns toward. He walks wherever the wind blows him.

Before long, the time had come for the sun to descend in the western sky. He could hear the burbling of a river.

“Not bad.”

The hideaway Mahito found was under a bridge, across the river.

It was a tunnel, vacant and huge like a temple.

Pipes ran along the inside, clear water flowing from them and into the river. It looked like wastewater was drained here after being purified, so there wasn’t much discomfort.

Apart from the humid air and the moss that emitted a peculiar grassy smell, it seemed wide enough to splash and jump around in, and the concrete’s cool texture provided a refreshing welcome.

There’s a season that curses are partial to.

Negative human emotions accumulate from the end of winter to spring, and it could be said that the rainy season served as the so-called peak of their ripening.

The inside of the damp tunnel held the same atmosphere. There was a gloominess there in the dim lighting that could easily nurture fear. It gently moistened Mahito’s skin; he felt cozy.

“Yeah, let’s stay here.”

When choosing a place to live, it’s best to trust your instincts.

Perhaps humans should do the same, but what they can’t readily do, Mahito can decide without hesitation. If he’s free when he wanders, then he’s free when he settles down, too.

Mahito stepped into the tunnel in good spirits, knocking solidly on the concrete floor.

The soul’s metabolism smooths out in comforting spaces. But…

“Huh?”

After walking a short distance, Mahito discovered “that”.

He initially thought it was some garbage or something that a human illegally dumped. But before long, it became clear that it was a sack-like silhouette leaning against a wall.

At first glance, it perhaps looked like a mere collection of rags.

But the shape of a soul was there.

—Ah, it’s alive.

Yes, just as Mahito had realized, it was a human.

The tattered clothing and wildly overgrown hair and beard hid his shape, but it was undoubtedly a human.

His exact age wasn’t clear from his outward appearance, but whether he was 60 or over 80, he looked elderly.

Mahito thought it was a bit of a pain.

There was already a visitor living in his precious hideaway.

Of course, taking care of this issue would be an easy matter for him. But he felt the same discomfort as a homeowner finding a stain on the wall of their new house.

‘Anyway, if I’m gonna deal with this, let’s get it done,’ Mahito thought, reaching out toward the old man with a little sigh.

Whereupon, unexpectedly, the old man spoke.

“...I’m sorry if you’re displeased.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know what you came here to do, but... I’m sure your mood has soured after stumbling across the home of an old fool. But I have nowhere to go, either.”

Mahito was a little taken aback.

The old man was clearly aware of Mahito and turned toward him to speak. This wouldn’t be surprising at all if he was talking to a fellow human.

But Mahito is a curse.

The eyes of a mere human can’t clearly perceive cursed spirits.

It isn’t impossible, though. If humans are born with cursed energy, it isn’t unusual for them to be aware of the existence of curses.

What caught Mahito’s attention was this old man’s lack of ‘eyes’.

As in, he had no eyes in the physical sense. Instead, in the empty sockets that once held them, there was a burn scar that was painful just to look at.

Even sorcerers rely on their eyes to view the world.

They depend on their field of vision to spot cursed spirits. That’s why so many of them use sunglasses and the like to conceal their line of sight, as it helps them remain unaffected. It also helps them maintain a balanced mind when their daily life overflows with curses.

However, that was not the case for this old man.

“Can you see me?”

When Mahito asked, the old man answered with a gentle nod.

“At the very least, I can feel you.”

“But you can’t see the world?”

“Naturally. That includes the scenery, what you look like, what color your skin is, and even your gender. Even so... I know you’re there.”

“...Are you a sorcerer?”

“Most likely not.”

“You’re being pretty vague, even though you’re talking about yourself.”

“For a long time, that’s what I’ve been the most vague about.”

Mahito began to notice something strange.

He can feel the shape of a human’s soul.

He knows the movement of a soul’s metabolism, whether it takes on a harsh form, withers weakly, or flickers with liveliness.

However, this old man’s soul was hardly metabolizing.

It was like a meadow with no wind, or a still sea, or the blue sky on a cloudless day.

No, it would be most appropriate to compare it to a stone.

His soul was like a stone on the side of the road.

No fancy ornamentation, no polishing. Unmoving, unwavering.

Calmly passing the time while growing moss.

That was the shape this old man’s soul had.

No matter how calm or how old a person is, the human soul always flickers.

As the years stack up, common sense doesn’t disappear, selfishness isn’t eliminated, and fear isn’t conquered.

But this old man was different.

The old man’s soul was at peace. He had sincerely accepted that everything would decay with time, but that didn’t mean he would throw his life away. It was truly similar to the way in which nature existed.

It was Mahito’s first time meeting anyone like this.

For a while, the tunnel became something of a den for Mahito.

He had gotten a hammock from somewhere, which he hung up between the pipes. He lounged in it and read, passing the time in comfort.

In a movie about life on a deserted island, a human who was desperate to survive made a hammock. Through it, he was able to regain a little peace of mind.

Since it looked surprisingly comfortable, Mahito gave it a try and it worked out nicely.

The arguments and fights of the outside world didn’t reach the inside of the tunnel, where only the burble of the small stream could be heard.

It provided a good environment for soothing the soul.

While leisurely absorbing new knowledge from his books, Mahito would sometimes absentmindedly gaze up toward the ceiling, or glance down at the corner where the old man squatted, looking as he always did.

“How do you live like this? It’s pretty mysterious...”

In the end, Mahito didn’t kill the old man.

It’s important to note that the old man wasn’t much of a hindrance for him. If it would make no difference whether he was there or gone, then Mahito figured getting rid of him would be more of a hassle.

The old man was just there, even quieter and more carefree than a stray cat.

Mahito knew the phrase: ‘man is only a reed, but he is a thinking reed’.

He found it hilarious and also genuinely liked it. It simultaneously boasted about being trapped in thoughts of the soul, while also showing that humans were frail as weeds.

It could be said that the old man was an unthinking reed, then.

No – he was even quieter than that; more like grass or some type of moss. In any case, the old man said nothing and simply carried on living.

Every now and then, the old man would suddenly shuffle off elsewhere, but he would be back to sleep before Mahito knew it. He was surely getting food from somewhere, but he never seemed to gain weight. If he lost any while in the tunnel, he would eat just enough to gain it back when he left, and no more.

It was a style of living so close to nature that it seemed more like a phenomenon than a life.

“That’s why I seriously wonder if you can see me.”

The suspicion was uttered suddenly.

Mahito wasn’t exactly speaking to the old man. Rather, his tone was that of someone talking to themselves.

But when he noticed that the old man’s soul didn’t waver even after hearing him speak, Mahito finally addressed him directly.

“How long have you been here?”

“Let’s see… I think a few winters have passed, but I’m not sure,” the old man muttered, his reply quiet.

Since they were two beings with souls who were aware of each other’s existence, Mahito felt it would be more natural to chat every now and then.

“Don’t you get bored?”

When spoken to in a soft tone, the old man also responded softly.

“I’ve forgotten how to be bored.”

“How do you usually pass the time here?”

“I don’t do anything, really. I just listen to the sounds.”

“The sounds?”

“The sounds of the water flowing.”

“...Is it fun?”

“It’s not. But I forgot how to have fun a long time ago, too, so it’s not an issue.”

So it was like that. Mahito nodded.

If this old man could no longer even feel the pain of boredom, perhaps his soul was worn down.

Humans of the city gasp and struggle through the hurt of not having enough, yet always wish for more even when they get what they wanted. Their souls grew fat and tattered through the rich accumulation of these negative feelings.

So in that regard, from Mahito’s point of view, the old man had a thin soul – but it could be said that was clever of him.

A fat and full human soul leads to a fear of losing the gratifying present moment, which in turn gives birth to curses.

“It’s hard to get your attention. What’s your name?”

When Mahito asked, the old man looked into the air for just a second.

“I left that behind. You can call me whatever you like.”

“There are humans without names? Even curses have them.”

“If you don’t meet other people, you don’t need a name.”

“Isn’t it a problem if you don’t have one?”

“When is it a problem?”

“When it’s time to be buried.”

“I don’t need a gravestone with a name. I can just be stuffed into a common grave, or maybe I’ll rot undiscovered and return to the earth that way.”

“Can’t you take a joke?”

“…Was that a joke?”

The old man didn’t laugh. Neither did Mahito.

But Mahito had the feeling that this old man was childish, contrary to his appearance. His lack of attachments created an unsullied disposition that might make him younger than he looked.

His interest in the old man simmered and surged.

It was his first time seeing this type of human, his first time feeling a soul with this form. For Mahito, this was a rare specimen.

What kind of path must life take to make this kind of human? What would be the most intriguing shape to make with a soul like that? What uses could one plan for such a person?

And what kind of curse would be born from them?

With these questions fueling his curiosity, Mahito started to chat with the old man.

“Why are you here?”

“…Why?”

The old man looked up toward the ceiling through his unruly bangs.

His eye sockets were empty, but it seems like even without sight, humans tended to stare into nothing when they were thinking. One curiosity of Mahito’s was satisfied.

“You weren’t born and raised in this tunnel, right? As a human, you must have been in that noisy city.”

“Ah, that. I lived a fairly busy life a long time ago. I inherited the house, worked, made money and supported my family.”

“So you were a human in a pretty good position.”

“In human society, yes. Looking back on it now, it was all meaningless.”

“So... what, you basically started living in a hole like a mouse, then?”

“I did that because I lost everything that I needed up to then. I lost my social status, my money, and a place where I belonged.”

“You lost it all?”

“I was tricked. That’s when my eyes were burned, so I lost my sight then, too.”

Mahito incidentally recalled the company Jogo attacked.

“You got tricked, huh? You seem pretty good-natured about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t care much about being tricked.”

“You’re a weird old man. Is this some kind of hobby where you get your kicks when people deceive you or something?”

“I’m just saying, that’s the kind of person I was back then. The ones who tricked me were my old friend and my wife. My eyes were burned in that so-called “accident”¹; they claimed I wasn’t of sound mind and body after that, and under the guise of caring for me, they stole everything I worked for before I knew it.”

“That’s a pretty flashy way to trick someone, isn’t it? You’re talking like it’s someone else’s problem.”

“Those two loved each other, and I was loved by no one. Knowing that was more monumental to me than being tricked.”

It was hard for Mahito to interpret what the old man said.

Love. Is it really such an important word?

It’s said that curses born from love exist in the world. It seems there are tremendously powerful ones among them, too. But Mahito doesn’t understand how the mechanism by which people love each other is any different from a cat’s attachment to a blanket.

Still, Mahito knows for a fact that people are obsessed with it.

“Didn’t you curse them? The ones who tricked you.”

“Not really.”

“’Not really’, huh. You know, normally a human in that situation would get angry and hold grudges, and it would make the shape of their soul deteriorate.”

“It’s true, though. I don’t think I had the energy to even consider seeking revenge or hurting them.”

“...I get it.”

Mahito nodded, filling in the blanks.

Regardless of whether or not he can guess the trends in human emotion, Mahito has studied many movies, novels and poetry so far.

Then there were the humans he tinkered with. Mahito could put together the pieces he gleaned from those things and use them to break down the old man’s story.

“So basically, you were in despair. So much despair that it was like your soul was about to die. That’s how you broke through the creation of grudges and curses and ended up like this.”

The old man slowly shook his head.

“I may have been disappointed, but I don’t believe I felt the intense despair you’re thinking of.”

“Are ‘disappointment’ and ‘despair’ different?”

“They are; this is just my personal experience.”

The old man raised his face, following the memories.

“There was no burning resentment or turbulent sorrow. It’s just... I was tired, I guess. Between work, assets, reputation, my life situation and duties, dealing with others, caring about the family name... I think I was probably just tired and worn out because of it all.”

“And that’s why you didn’t get mad even after being tricked?”

“I was at peace. They say the soul gets lighter after going through disappointments.”

The old man’s voice was calm.

It had a cool quality to it, like muddy water that had been filtered clean.

“I couldn’t see, I had no money, I had no love... But as I was walking through the city with nothing to my name, it all suddenly became inconsequential. And then, as I looked around, I saw the city in a new light.”

“Even though you can’t see?”

“Yes. When you can’t see anything, it’s just sound and wind that goes on forever anywhere you are. I couldn’t even see the walls blocking the city in. It was just endless darkness spreading out forever, like a starless night. For the first time, I understood how wide the world was. And I thought to myself... ah, I’m free, aren’t I?”

Mahito blinked rapidly.

This old man’s thinking didn’t fit any other case he had gathered so far.

Even hearing about his past, he couldn’t understand the old man’s thoughts.

But even from Mahito’s point of view, the old man was certainly free.

Without so much as leaving the middle of this tunnel, he knew that the sky was vast.

Perhaps he knew it better than any member of high society walking around freely in the city. He knew the wide spread of the sky, the soft caress of the wind, the gentle sounds of the water.

This old man, who looked like a simple rakugoka², had no property or social standing. He even lost his connection to other humans... And maybe that’s precisely why he could uncover the elusive meaning of the word ‘freedom’.

He was just existing, just being alive, without attachments, grudges or curses.

“So basically ‘not all those who wander are lost’?”

“Yes, though quoting Tolkien’s works might be a little tedious.”

Mahito smiled when the man immediately caught the reference to a book he just happened to read.

“Were you a bookworm?”

“All I did was cram a lot of information in.”

“It’s good to be well-read.”

If curses are born from the fear that humans feel, could this old man even be considered human?

As Mahito is, he struggles with the expression of human emotions.

But he was calm.

For the first time since coming into contact with humans, he had a feeling of peace.

“I think if everyone in the world was like you, I wouldn’t have been born.”

Mahito looked back at his book.

The old man, staring into nothing as always, fell silent again.

Curses are born from humans, but they also kill humans. There is no way for the two to coexist.

But in this tunnel, a curse and a human were doing exactly that.

Though distorted, this peaceful period of time flowed by gently.

It’s only natural for humans to hate and fear other humans.

Since they can’t see souls, they can only make guesses about the feelings of others, and they’re swayed by their own emotions.

They don’t understand that these things are just a reflection of the soul’s metabolism. They don’t even know where their soul is.

Mahito investigated the matter.

This blind man lost his sight and his connection to others, so his soul received less stimulation.

And so, no longer influenced by unnecessary things in the physical world, he spent a lot of time facing his inner world and reflecting.

“It’s kind of like a monk’s training. Through strong introversion, a person looks at their soul more often.”

Mahito walked around the city, skimming through a beaten-up copy of the Heart Sutra.

It was a sutra handbook that focused on controlling the soul. It looked like humans of the past did their own research into freeing the soul from the material world.

The old man’s life ended up in a similar state without him setting out to do it on purpose.

That was likely how he learned to feel other souls through the darkness he lived in. Mahito concluded this was the reason he was aware of curses.

“I think he was already predisposed, but... seems like it’s easier for introverted humans to show promise.”

If he gave the old man’s situation even deeper consideration, he could probably make a lot of guesses about a sorcerer’s training. There’s even a way to encourage the first manifestation of cursed energy.

In that case, it should also be possible to take a talented person and ‘make’ them into a sorcerer or curse-user.

Unleashing a curse-user made by a curse onto a sorcerer...

That might be a fun experiment. It’s easier to shake up a human’s soul by having them fight other humans, rather than just exorcising curses. Sukuna’s vessel should be no exception.

Although...

—Maybe it’s fine to do that a little later?

Yes, Mahito thought it over at his leisure.

He is free. When it’s time to move, he moves. When it’s time to rest, he rests.

And he was not in the mood to launch that plan into action.

Rather, for the time being, he just wanted to gather knowledge and indulge in thought. He also got some new books and wanted to read fantasy novels while basking in the quiet comfort of the tunnel.

Mahito’s gait became lighter. While walking alongside the throng of people, he even began to hum.

Suddenly, a loud voice rang out from between two buildings.

“—so damn annoying, yeah?”

Looking over that way, he saw two young humans: a man with long, thin hair, and a muscular skinhead. They were undoubtedly people who looked like trouble.

The long-haired man listened as the skinhead rambled on with his complaints, seemingly in some kind of sullen mood.

“Damn, it’s seriously freezing. Anyway, every last one of ‘em just puts on shitty airs, but it’s all just talk. Nothin’ but excuses. Ah, I wanna kill ‘em all...”

“You say that, but come on. You talk big about wanting to beat these guys to death when you’re pissed, but could you actually kill someone?”

“Sure. Ain’t like killing’s hard.”

“Seriously?”

Mahito squinted and listened, the conversation going in one ear and out the other.

It’s not that he disliked the way they acted or how they spoke bluntly about their heart’s desires. But Mahito knew people like this were all talk.

“Yeah– seriously, anyone’s fine, I just wanna kill someone.”

Then maybe you should do it without saying anything.

Better yet, he thought about practicing some killing methods on them. But Mahito felt the light weight of the book in his hand as he reached out, and he stopped.

Rather than sparing any consideration for this, he just wanted to go back to the comfort of the tunnel and read.

“I’ll kill ‘em.”

The skinhead’s grumbling voice sounded like a spell.

But the words would find no power or heart to shelter in. Shut away between these buildings, the most a person can do is talk to themselves. It’s best for humans like this to stick to the narrow back alleys, foolishly thinking they’re enjoying a wide world.

Mahito averted his gaze and made his way back home.

“Why did Gregor become a bug?”

Mahito suddenly asked the old man, not taking his eyes off the novel.

It was a famous book by Franz Kafka.

A story in which a human unexpectedly turns into a poisonous insect.

“The most popular theory is that the bug is a metaphor.”

“Metaphor?”

“It means he was a person who was hated and oppressed within society, treated the same way a human would treat a bug. Kind of like an old man who was suddenly blinded and tricked one day.”

“Is that a joke?”

“Not exactly.”

It was detached and dispassionate, but an answer would come back any time Mahito said something. When conversing with the old man, it felt like talking to a dictionary. He had a lot of information.

He knew about things like the inner workings of the mind and human culture, and he was smart enough to explain it simply in discussions.

For Mahito, who analyzed human souls through books and movies, this old man’s knowledge and conversation helped in its own way.

When do humans get angry? Why do they grieve?

How do they trust and in what ways are they betrayed?

Mahito lived with a different sense of ethics when compared to humans, so there were many things he struggled to interpret. The old man explained them and helped him understand.

He had a strong interest in the experiences of the old man, who had once lived among humans but didn’t act like them.

“After becoming a bug, Gregor eventually hid away like he was told to, but he still ended up being spotted and it led to his death. Jii-san³, why do you think that is?”

“You cannot find peace by avoiding life.”

“That’s a quote from Virginia Woolf, right?”

When Mahito immediately and correctly guessed the source, the old man raised a brow slightly.

“You’re a pretty avid reader, too. Conversations with you are really stress-free.”

“Do you have to go back to living with other humans, then?”

“If you don’t have any attachment to the human world, there’s no need to run from it or stand against it⁴.”

“I see,” Mahito murmured to let the other know he was listening, eyes still on the book.

Even if he wasn’t looking at it, the old man’s perpetually calm soul was aglow in the dark like always.

Mahito read his book in the dim room lit by the brilliance of that soul instead of a candle.

Time quietly flowed through the darkness.

Outside of the tunnel, signs indicating the end of summer crept up.

The end came abruptly.

One day, when Mahito was heading back to the tunnel with an abandoned poetry anthology that he picked up on an aimless walk through the city, he felt a noisiness that shouldn’t have been there.

There were one, two, three swaying souls.

One had a very familiar shape, but it was terribly frail. It was like the dying flame of a candle weakened by the wind.

With the same unchanging gait as always, Mahito stepped into the tunnel.

As expected, the old man was there.

But the unusual thing was the crumpled, strange position that he was in.

He was also sandwiched between two younger men who were looking down at him.

“Oooi, isn’t this bad? Did this guy seriously die?”

A man with long, thin hair spoke in a tone that was not particularly anxious.

“Didn’t I say it? I said I could kill,” a muscular skinhead replied, his voice casual.

“But ain’t this just impulsive?”

“Yeah, well, the old man had some real cheek, looking down on us when he’s this weak. So why not just kick him?”

The skinhead likely played sports, given that his legs were as thick around as logs. Kicking an old man to death would be easier than crushing a can.

The two didn’t seem to have a single scrap of interest in the old man, his life or his soul.

There was no reason, no grudge, no clear murderous intent.

It seemed like they simply arrived at the tunnel somehow. They took the opportunity to do as much violence as they wanted. They beat him on a whim.

It could be said that this way of being is freedom for humans.

Mahito crouched down, peeking at the old man’s face.

The beaten visage of the man with burned eyes came into view. But even at a time like this, his expression was as calm as always.

“Are you going to die?”

Mahito searched for even a mumbled word or two in response.

“...Seems so...”

The old man answered in a hoarse voice. He likely barely had the power left to speak now. It appeared as though the two men didn’t hear him over their loud conversation.

He intently inspected the old man’s soul.

The peaceful soul was not flickering, nor did it hold anger or grief; it was simply coming to an unhurried end.

Mahito was impressed.

This old man had found the true meaning of freedom. He really was released from every tie of obligation in this world. Even on the verge of death, that didn’t change.

Being able to make sure of that with his own two eyes, Mahito felt considerably relieved. In the same way he would watch a flower wither and fall, he observed the old man’s death.

Nevertheless...

“Jii-san?”

He had a feeling.

It’s like seeing a plot twist you don’t want to see if you keep turning the pages of a book.

Or like knowing the contents of a present before you open it.

That kind of buzz spread through Mahito’s chest.

While he puzzled over the instinctive alarm bells screaming at him to stop watching, everything was heading toward its end.

“...I thought I would die alone.”

The old man’s soul dimly flickered.

A smile was on his swollen face.

“...To have someone... here to witness this old fool’s last moments...”

The flicker might have been insignificant, like a single drop breaking the water’s surface. Even so, for an instant near death, at the end of it all...

The old man’s soul ‘metabolized’.

“...Tha...nk... y...”

The old man died smiling.

“. . .”

Mahito’s eyes opened wide, and for a moment, he was frozen.

He thought the old man was different when compared to other humans. To Mahito, he seemed unfettered.

Mahito thought the unique philosophical views stemming from such an extraordinary state of mind had freed him from all the shackles of this world.

But despite all of that, the old man was still captured right in his last moments.

On the brink of death, he clung to someone else so he could avoid a lonely end.

The old man was only human.

For a human, it was likely satisfying enough. Perhaps it was even the proper way for one to die.

“. . .”

Mahito said nothing.

But what felt like a dry wind blew through his chest, leaving him cold.

He didn’t know the name humans gave that emotion. But his consciousness was like yarn tangling in on itself, wriggling around like a worm—

And suddenly, it all cut off at once.

The only thing left behind was the sensation of standing in a dry and barren wasteland.

“—So basically,” the skinhead’s voice echoed. “Police probably won’t do a proper investigation. Not for this old nobody.”

“Hey, hey, hey; that’s still a person,” the long haired man answered lightly.

“Yeah, well, that guy started it.”

“He shoulda looked at who he was talking to before he picked a fight.”

“Anyway, my pants are dirty from all that kicking... That’s a problem.”

“So fussy. That’s what you’re worried about when you just killed a guy? How funny.”

“That ain’t a person. Anyway, don’t you know I like being clean? Ahh, the blood won’t come off... Water doesn’t do any good, right?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t – but more importantly, if you’ve settled down, I’m hungry. Let’s stop by a convenience store.”

“I dunno. If you’re gonna look, buy a bento and let’s get outta here.”

Mahito quickly stood up in the same way one would when they finished looking for something in a store.

A sense of fatigue was deeply ingrained in his body.

Their incoherent voices persisted, reverberating through the tunnel, smeared with excuses and attempts to escape reality. He couldn’t hear the soft burble of the stream.

With deep-seated listlessness, Mahito approached the skinhead as one would move to pick up fallen trash.

Idle Transfiguration. The technique spreads quickly.

And thus, the moment he tapped the man’s back, its shape was no longer human.

“Ee—!!”

If he just killed them, it would create a nuisance in the form of a corpse, so he simply folded it up into something palm-sized and kept it alive.

Then, with a careless sweep⁵ of his hand, he folded up the other man as well.

“Begh—”

It fell silent.

Mahito gathered up the two, now no bigger than chess pieces, and turned his attention down toward the remaining corpse of the old man.

It was now just a bag of meat full of bones. Not even the soul remained, so he couldn’t use Idle Transfiguration to fiddle with it.

He was briefly troubled by its disposal, which served as the biggest inconvenience.

In the tunnel, there nothing but the sound of running water.

It was a day where the sky seemed farther away than usual.

Clouds peeked out from around the buildings and a good feeling was carried in on the wind.

Mahito aimlessly walked about the city.

“Maybe I’ll catch a movie. It’s been ages.”

He picked a tiny, somewhat old-looking theater and snuck in.

He’s had high motivation lately, and it seemed like some unnecessary things had peeled away from his soul, leaving him more carefree than ever.

Thanks to that, he had also begun to toy with humans more often.

If he can fold a person up and make them small, he wanted to test out inflating one instead, but he slept on the idea overnight. It was pretty fun, but he knew that he was getting too absorbed. He also felt that carrying on with too much persistence wasn’t a good thing.

A change of pace every now and then was fine, too.

He hadn’t closely checked to see what was being screened. It was mostly just plain and obscure movies, but if one went in with no expectations, they might come across a surprisingly interesting tale.

Curiously, he had that kind of a feeling.

While walking through the hall of the theater, he casually felt through his pocket, which had grown bulky with the ‘small humans’ that he had touched.

—Speaking of which, he thought that was a nuisance.

He carelessly tossed some of them away.

Opening the door, he stepped into the theater.

Perhaps because it was a weekday, there weren’t many customers. The silhouettes of what appeared to be students filled out a few seats here and there.

From where Mahito stood in the corner, he had a good view of the screen.

Soon, instead of a curtain raising, the theater was engulfed in darkness.

T/N: [1] In this sentence, the implication is that the “accident” was very much orchestrated by the old man’s friend and wife, who burned his eyes somehow and then merely made it look like an accident [2] The rakugoka is the storyteller in rakugo, a form of (often) comedic theater that relies solely on spoken word from the rakugoka, who only uses a fan and hand towel as props [3] A way of referring to old men in general, basically like “gramps/grandpa”; Mahito never calls him by an actual name [4] Essentially, the old man’s saying that he (or anyone) can exist parallel to human society without interacting if they have no attachments to it and can still find peace, contrary to the Woolf quote [5] Kanji reads sweep, furigana reads cleanse (the same word for exorcism that sorcerers use)

Thanks as well to Pixi for help with editing and tl checks! If an officially translated version of the novel becomes available in your country, please consider purchasing it, or consider buying a copy of the original novel in Japanese if possible!

#jujutsu kaisen #mahito #mahito jujutsu kaisen #mahito jjk #jogo jjk #hanami jjk #jujutsu kaisen light novel #translation #departing summer and returning autumn

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