#and their deaths are easily THE most painful thing she ever had to go through and she will never not miss them

[dykedvonte]

I find the line "I have to believe our worst moments don't make us monsters." Fascinating because it comes from Anya, and I feel she really proves it the best.

For obvious reasons most people are in the "Anya did nothing wrong" camp and for good reason but there is a single action that I don't think she did well and it was her suicide. Specifically her method.

Realizing that Anya took Curly's painkillers was horrifying to me. As a Nurse I have no doubt that she'd know how terrible dying from overdose is. She had access to a gun which is well known for having a far more instant and far less painful death. And despite everything falling apart around her, knowing how bad Jimmy was, she still left Curly alive.

I don't think I thought about it much like that at first but the longer this game has sat with me the more horrified I am by the action. Curly is man who has been horribly disabled and is completely unable to help himself and he is very much a human being who does not deserve to be anywhere close to that amount of pain. Those painkillers were one that the few things that could give him any amount of relief and Anya took them.

She could have shot herself and left the painkillers for whoever was left to help Curly. She could've shot Curly and then taken the painkillers. She could've shot them both and quickly put an end to their misery, yet she didn't. Anya had a great amount of her agency stripped away from her, to the point that she didn't deem life to be worth it anymore and ended it, right next to a man who couldn't make that choice for himself even if he wanted to.

It is easily her most horrific choice and yet, she's still an angel.

(Please don't take this as Anya slander, I genuinely love her so much. I just find this to be an incredibly interesting thing)

I do subscribe to the idea that Anya realized that Jimmy was hitting Curly when giving him his medicine but didn’t intervene. I also don’t think her taking the pills from Curly as monstrous mainly because (while she knew he suffered worse with out them) she likely also knew they were basically bandaids on a bullet wound.

I have this sort of belief that that statement can only really apply to Jimmy in the inverse. Like some statements in the games aren’t meant to apply to all characters and not in every context of every action they do. It’s the idea that no one should be responsible for Jimmy’s actions but himself but they are forced to by him or the environment. Everyone is experiencing their worst moments but no one is a monster outside of Jimmy due to his inability to take responsibility and how he escalates the severity of the situation through his bad choices. Even then it’s not one moment that makes Jimmy a monster it’s the culmination of every moment that prove his inability to be anything but in this scenario.

With Anya you must remember she did have the code to the gun. Yeah, she could’ve broken it open but who’s to say how easy or how long it would’ve taken. Not to mention, there’s this misconception that she wanted the gun to kill Jimmy which isn’t true. She wanted the gun to defend herself in the case he got aggressive which is an important note of Anya being the only proactive person on the ship vs reactive. Locking the door, knowing there was no way in was likely a duel mercy for them both. A person in his state would die relatively soon without constant care and she has ample time to pass. It’s a hard decision to make for herself and someone else but it was the easiest even if it caused more damage than it was ever meant to cause.

It’s a sort of parallel to how Curly made choices he thought would help Anya and everyone but ultimately doomed them all further. Jimmy got what he wanted in both scenarios of crashing the ship and wanting Anya gone. What happened on the Tulpar will go down as a tragedy if they are ever found, a mystery if not but certainly not in a way that Jimmy wanted. Anya and the pregnancy are effectively gone but he’s still facing the repercussions for it.

There’s this idea that it’s controversial to say that Anya was anything but perfect and while I don’t think she did anything wrong, she certainly didn’t make the best choice in telling Jimmy but that again was because of the situation and environment she was in. We don’t know why she didn’t wait on Curly after their conversation in the cockpit, we know that was the plan and we know Jimmy finding out through her alone was the catalyst to the crash within like the next hour, yet you can’t really blame her. We don’t know why Jimmy came to medical nor what anyone else was doing. It can be considered her one mistake but then again we can’t blame a reasonable action on someone’s unreasonable response.

I think that’s a big aspect a lot of people look over in the characters actions. Most of them are normal, reasonable, human. But the systematic responses to them and Jimmy’s are unreasonably harsh and punishing.

This has gone off in a tangent from what you originally posed but I genuinely think of what might do happened if that confrontation happened with Curly there and away from the cock pit. I assume it’d happen in medical or even utility, hell, an area away from anything sensitive but what if? If the ability to do something awful wasn’t at Jimmy’s finger tips, if there was more than one voice in Curly’s head during that moment, what would’ve changed?

When I look at Anya I see her as having the best responses to anything happening during the events of the game but the environment, systems against her and even the other crew mates to an extent made it so it would inevitably backfire on them and mostly her hard.

[variantia]

... babey

[novaursa]

The Last Flight

- Summary: You go to Dorne instead of your sister Rhaenys. And you never come back.

- Paring: sister!reader/Aegon I Targaryen

- Note: This short story covers one of possible endings of The Broken Crown series.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @fiction-fanfic-reader @fireandblood-mharmie @poisonedsultana

- A/N: You want another scenario? Let me know.

The scorching heat of Dorne clings to your skin, the sun a burning coin suspended high in the azure sky. The wind carries with it the dry, acrid scent of sand, yet beneath you, there is power—an unrelenting force. Tesaerix, your magnificent golden and cream dragon, moves effortlessly through the air, her deep red eyes scanning the terrain below. You feel her muscles ripple beneath your thighs as she soars above the arid wasteland, the pride of your House and the symbol of your strength. Her scales shimmer in the sun, the blood-red undertones flashing like molten fire beneath her brilliant hide.

Your thoughts are consumed by Aegon. You can feel the weight of his presence, even when he is miles away. His absence is a shadow in your heart, a constant reminder of your duty you accepted with time, not only as his wife, his queen, but as his sister. You are bound to him in ways no one else will ever understand. And now, as you carry his second child within you, the bond feels even deeper, even more unbreakable.

The Dornish, however, are not so easily subdued. Even now, beneath the beauty of the clouds and sky, you know they scheme. They have always been the most defiant, and as much as you admire their resolve, you cannot allow it to stand. Your mind drifts to the days of battle yet to come, to the throne you and Aegon are building together, stone by stone, blood by blood.

But then—suddenly—Tesaerix stiffens beneath you, her wings faltering for just a fraction of a second. You feel the tremor run through her powerful frame, an emotion you had never associated with her before: fear. Your hand grips the reins tighter, your body leaning forward instinctively. Something is wrong.

And then you hear it.

The sharp, mechanical twang of a scorpion ballista firing, followed by the deafening roar that reverberates from Tesaerix’s throat, echoing through the sky like the crack of thunder. A bolt of dark metal tears through the air, faster than you can blink. It pierces Tesaerix’s left eye, burrowing deep into the vibrant red that once glowed with ferocity. Her scream of agony is a sound that will haunt you forever in the afterlife, shaking your very soul. You can feel the shockwave of her pain radiate through your bond, filling your mind with white-hot anguish.

“Tesaerix!” you scream, your voice lost in the howling wind. She convulses beneath you, her massive wings faltering, her graceful flight collapsing into chaos. She spirals downward, her roars now guttural, filled with unending torment. The wind tears at your hair and clothing as the ground rushes toward you both. You grasp desperately at the reins, but it is useless. The beast that was once the queen of the skies, unstoppable and unbowed, is now at the mercy of gravity and death.

You feel her strength waning, her fire dimming. She struggles to keep you aloft, her wings beating sluggishly, a far cry from the power they once held. She has always protected you, shielded you, but now... she is dying, and there is nothing you can do to save her. Your heart shatters, not only for her but for the life inside you, for the child that will never know the world you fought to create.

The last thing you see before the ground rises to meet you is the faint glimmer of Tesaerix’s blood-red scales flashing in the sun, her body contorting as she crashes into the earth. And then, everything is fire and darkness.

Pain explodes through your body as you hit the ground with a force that knocks the air from your lungs. The impact shatters your bones, but it is the silence that follows that is the most terrifying. The bond you shared with Tesaerix, the link that had always thrummed with life, is severed. There is no heartbeat in your mind, no flicker of her presence. She is gone, and with her, your world unravels.

You try to move, try to reach out, but your body betrays you. Blood fills your mouth, the taste of iron sharp on your tongue. You can feel the life slipping away, faster than you ever imagined it would. Your hand instinctively moves to your belly, to the child within, but even that small motion is agony. Tears sting your eyes as you realize there will be no future for them. Aegon’s son or daughter will never be born.

Your thoughts drift to him, to your king, your husband, your brother. You wonder if he will feel it, the moment your life leaves your body, if he will know that his child is lost. You can see his face in your mind, the steely resolve that always made you feel safe. You want to tell him you love him, that you fought until the very end, that you died with your dragon by your side. But the words are lost in the blood that bubbles in your throat.

The sky above you dims as the world around you fades. You are alone now, alone with the silence of the dead, and the heat of Dorne’s relentless sun beating down on you.

With a final, shuddering breath, you close your eyes and surrender to the darkness.

The sun had begun its slow descent when Aegon received the news. He stood at the edge of the war table, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of Blackfyre, his ever-present symbol of command and power. But in that moment, the weight of the blade seemed insignificant, a mere tool in a world that had suddenly lost all sense.

A raven had come from Dorne, its message blunt and brutal, stripped of all the delicate lies courtiers usually crafted to soften blows. Tesaerix had fallen. She had fallen.

Your name was written on that small, crumpled piece of parchment, but it was as if he couldn’t comprehend it, as if it were not real. His mind swam, drowning in confusion, in denial. You—his sister, his queen, his love—were gone. The child you carried, his unborn son or daughter, gone with you.

For a moment, the world fell silent, save for the relentless beating of his heart, pounding in his chest like a war drum, louder and louder until it consumed everything else. His grip tightened around the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as the world blurred before his eyes.

Visenya and Rhaenys were there, though he barely noticed them at first. Visenya stood stoic, her sharp, regal face as unreadable as ever, though her eyes betrayed her. There was a glint there, something unspoken. She felt the loss too, he knew, but she didn’t speak. Visenya rarely needed words to convey the force of her presence. Rhaenys, on the other hand, had tears in her eyes, her lips parted as though she wanted to say something, anything, that would take away his pain. But nothing came.

He slammed his fist down on the table, sending maps and markers scattering to the floor. The room seemed to close in around him, suffocating. His vision darkened at the edges, a storm brewing in his chest, too fierce to be contained. Aegon, the Conqueror, the man who had never faltered, had never broken—was crumbling.

"How?" he finally rasped, his voice cracking in a way it never had before. He demanded answers from the silence, but there was no one left to give them.

Rhaenys stepped forward, her soft hand reaching for his, but he pulled away sharply, the touch unbearable. It was as if his very skin recoiled from the comfort, the warmth he could no longer feel. He didn’t want her pity, her gentle reassurances. They meant nothing. How could they, when you were gone?

"She... she died bravely, brother," Rhaenys said, her voice thick with sorrow. "She fell with her dragon—"

"Do not speak of her bravery to me!" Aegon roared, his voice filled with a fury that silenced even the birds outside. "She was my wife, my queen. I should have been there. I should have protected her!"

Visenya’s calm mask finally cracked. "Aegon, there was nothing you could have—"

"Enough!" he shouted, his chest heaving with each breath. The words felt hollow, empty. No matter what his sisters said, the guilt gnawed at him, tearing him apart from within. He should have known the dangers. He should have been with you, should have flown by your side. The image of you—falling, lost, dying with Tesaerix—flashed before his eyes. It was unbearable.

He turned his back to them both, his hands trembling as they hovered over the hilt of Blackfyre once more. It would be so easy to lash out, to let the sword take away this unrelenting agony. To cut down those who had taken you from him.

"I will burn them," he whispered, his voice cold, deadly. "All of them."

Visenya and Rhaenys exchanged a glance, but neither dared to argue. They had seen this side of him before—the part of him that was not just king, not just conqueror, but something darker, something ancient. The dragon that slept within him had awoken, and it hungered for vengeance.

Aegon turned, his eyes burning with unshed tears, yet blazing with the intensity of dragonfire. "Dorne will pay," he said, the words venomous. "I will rain fire upon them until their deserts turn to glass. Every man, woman, and child who had a hand in this... they will know my wrath. No one will escape it. I swear it."

Rhaenys, always the one to temper his fire, reached for him again. "Aegon, vengeance will not—"

"Do not speak of mercy to me, Rhaenys," he snapped, his gaze cold, distant. "I will hear no more of it. They took her. They took my child." His voice cracked again, and this time, it broke something in him. He sank to his knees, the weight of it all too much to bear.

For the first time in his life, Aegon Targaryen, the dragonlord, the Conqueror, wept. His shoulders shook, his hands gripping the cold stone of the floor as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. Visenya knelt beside him, her hand on his shoulder, but even her presence could not reach him now.

He had lost you, and in losing you, he had lost a part of himself. His sisters could not comfort him, for there was no comfort to be had. There was only the aching void where you had once been.

And in that void, only one truth remained. The fire of vengeance would consume him, just as it would consume Dorne. He would not rest, not until the ones responsible had been reduced to nothing but ashes and bone.

The dragons would fly, and the world would burn for what they had done to you.

[neo-nomatrix]

Rule No. 19

never fall in love with the same person twice, the second time you’ll be falling in love with the memories not the person.

Miguel O’hara x reader

word count: 1056

synopsis: You were Miguel’s wife in another universe and he just can’t come to terms that you’re not his.

a/n: i know a lot of people are asking for part twos of my other stories but i just can’t think of anything 😭

Your death was a horrible day for Miguel. He easily blamed himself for what had happened to you. Shot twice by a random mugger off the side of the street. And he, Spiderman of all people, couldn't save you. How could he even call himself a hero after that? He held your lifeless body in his arms as he came to terms with the incident.

Miguel wouldn’t allow your killer to get away. Chasing him down the block, cornering him in an alley and slowly, almost torturing, beat the life out of him. Miguel tore at his skin with his claws, used all his strength to break his teeth, and practically ripped off the man’s hand from the wrist.

Miguel so desperately wanted him to feel pain he would do anything. But that wouldn’t bring you back, and he knew that.

Miguel had fallen in love with you for many reasons. You were beautiful, smart, funny, and the kindest person he had ever met. He knew that if you saw the person he was now you would not have fallen in love with him. When he looks at himself in the mirror he doesn’t see the man he once was, he doesn’t see the man you loved but a distorted ugly image of that man.

He knew he had changed for the worse but truthfully he didn’t care. If changing meant he got what he was after he didn’t care how it made him look.

The first time Miguel found you in another universe he was ecstatic. You had a family, a beautiful daughter and a life worth being a part of. “Your” Miguel had recently died and he thought he could replace him.

“Oh, I'm so glad you’re home. I was starting to get worried,” You kissed your husband as he walked through the door.

“Im here,” Miguel whispered as a response.

He didn’t know what to do. You were there, in front of him. Alive.

He pulled you in for the strongest kiss he had ever given you. You were slightly shocked but melted into the kiss with such love. Failing to see the tears building up in his eyes.

You were happy, so happy. Until the day it all came crashing down on him. Your world started to collapse within itself, Miguel felt like Atlas trying to hold up the universe on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, he was lost. Running from an inescapable situation with you and your daughter. You fell to your knees as you were running. You were glitching. Slowly, in the most painful way he could imagine both you and your daughter disappeared from his arms.

For the second time Miguel lost you, and it was his fault. From then on he vowed to only watch you from afar.

“She isn’t yours, Miguel,” Jess reminded him for what? the tenth time today?

“I know that Jess,” he practically rolled his eyes at her.

“Y’know it’s creepy. You’re basically stalking this girl who has no idea you exist. There are just some things you have to let go,” She offers her advice.

Miguel clenches his jaw at her words.

“I don’t need a therapist, alright? I’m fine dealing with this,” he says.

He’s had enough of Jess and her advice for today. Even though he won’t let himself interfere he can’t help but watch you from the rooftops. He agrees that it’s creepy but he can’t let anything else bad happen to you, he just can’t.

From everything telling him not to, he swings down to try and get closer to you. He enters the coffee shop you just went into. He doesn’t know why. He shouldn’t be here behind you in the long line. It’s not right. He’s about to turn before he’s greeted with your sweet voice. Your voice that sounds like honey and all the good things on this planet and the next.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering what you usually order? I’ve never been here before and I'm sort of lost,” you giggle. God, he could melt on the spot.

He knows you're lying, of course. He’s seen you in here more times than he can count. And you always get the same exact thing, every single time. In fact, you refuse to get anything different. He wants to believe you’re asking him as a way to flirt but he can’t get attached, not again.

“Oh uhm, i usually get their vienna latte,” His eyes flick up to the first thing on their menu, never having gone to this shop himself.

“And then their bear claw,” if there’s one thing he noticed about you it’s that in every universe you love a bear claw with your drink.

“Great! I’ll get that then!” You smile happily as the barista asks for the next person in line.

He didn’t realize how in love with you he really was until he spoke to you all these years later.

“Do you maybe want to sit down together? I know a park nearby,” You approach him after both of you have gotten your drinks.

“I’d…” he trails off remembering Jess’ words. He can’t, he shouldn’t, no matter how much he wants to. “I don’t think I can. I’m really sorry,” he feels horrible after seeing the look on your face. He wants to crumble up into a million pieces seeing you disappointed like that.

“No worries then. It’s okay,” you smile kindly at him. A clear tinge of sadness in your voice.

You walk off leaving him there unsure of his choice. Would one conversation really do anything? Would it tear the world apart like last time? Was he willing to risk it just to talk to you again?

The truth was yes, he was absolutely willing to risk everything for the chance to have you fall in love with him again. But he couldn’t do that to you. He stands there, heartbroken for a third time.

Even though he loves you he’s well aware you’re not his, not really. He knows that if he were to fall in love with this version of you it would be compensation for what he had lost. He would simply be trying to recreate something he couldn’t have.

Miguel loves you, but he can’t have you.

[loveliest-venus]

bittersweet - straw hats crew x reader

includes: Straw Hats crew x f!reader warnings: major character death summary: In your last moments, your crewmates reflect on their time with you before saying goodbye. content: angst, slight fluff, can be read as romantic or platonic, no spoilers, 1.5k words.

Dying was never part of the plan.

Then again, none of this was ever part of the plan, from getting experimented on to meeting a rowdy pirate crew that called themselves the Straw Hats to end up joining them, thus starting what would be the biggest adventure of your whole life. Of course, you regretted it from time to time, it was a wonder how this wasn’t one of those times.

Well, maybe a little bit. You didn’t like seeing tears further dirtying Luffy’s face. It didn’t suit him, you weren’t used to seeing him with anything but a huge smile on his face, the smile that gave you hope despite everything. Your ears were still ringing but you thought you could vaguely hear Nami’s cries, or were they Chopper’s? It was hard to say, the poison had spread fast and you were certain that the blurriness in your vision wasn’t because of tears, as your eyes were dry and bloodshot, most likely from the toxins pumping through your veins, making each breath just a little more painful and… Was it just you or was Zoro screaming? You honestly couldn’t tell anymore. Your eyes closed as your body fell forward, stopping as Luffy’s arms wrapped around your torso to hold you up, making your chin rest on his shoulder.

“Hang on!” Your captain called your name hoarsely, snapping his head to the side, desperate yells piercing through the air as Chopper clumsily dashed over to where you were, slumped over Luffy’s shaking form. “Chopper!”

“D-Don’t worry, I will save her!” Chopper’s fur was wet, snot and salty water mixing as he cried, his voice cracking at the vowels of your name while his arms reached out to help stabilize you. It hurt your heart to see them so distraught and you hated that there was nothing you could do to comfort them.

“Chopper… Stop.” Both of them froze, Luffy’s body growing stiff against your clammy skin. “It’s okay… I’m not scared,” the words tasted bitter in your mouth, in contrast to the serene look on your worn-out features. Blood was trickling down your forehead, hanging on your eyelashes and joining the tiny trail spilling from the corners of your lips. “I’m happy to die… for my crew.” You meant it, your heart had never felt lighter.

“Oi! What the fuck are you going on about?! You can’t just–!” Zoro’s voice was unmistakable, rough like the numerous knives on your body. From the looks of it, your peaceful declaration hadn’t settled well with him. You wished you could meet his gaze one last time, blissfully unaware of the milky sheen on yours. It was then that Chopper realized, with a heartbroken sob, that it was truly too late. “Chopper, do something! Hurry up!”

“Moss-head…” Zoro’s earrings jingled when he turned to look at Sanji, ready to cuss him out until he saw the look on his face, somber and pleading. It dawned on him that the cook had already begrudgingly accepted that this was it. But the swordsman wasn’t known for admitting defeat that easily, if ever.

“Save it, you damn– ,” he was cut off when a pale, delicate hand landed on his broad shoulder, Robin’s lips set in a thin line, the only thing betraying her true feelings was the tight grip she had on him.

“Zoro.” Her eyes were fixated on your battered form, her brow furrowing at your labored breathing. “This isn’t the time. She’s too far gone.” It was Franky’s turn to lose composure, aggressively kicking away the remnants of what had once been a beautiful tree. Taking away the destroyed flora, the unconscious enemies around you and your own blood splattering the ground, this could’ve been called a scenic place to die.

“B-B-But Chopper can fix her up! He always can! R-Right, Chopper?! Tell Robin that she’s wrong!” Usopp’s arms were tightly wound around Nami, both of their eyes growing misty, holding each other up in a fruitless attempt to hold it together. At the archeologist’s soft murmur of your name, their hopes were shattered, Nami’s knees buckling under the weight of her grief, almost taking Usopp with her, forcing him to stand up straighter than before, for once staring at death right in the eye. If only it wasn’t your bloodied face staring back…

Brook remained silent, for once devoid of all joy. It was happening again, someone he held dear was being taken away from him all too soon, your life cut short at the capricious hands of fate. Jinbei had a similar expression on his face, choosing to honor your wishes as you clearly didn’t want to leave them without a proper goodbye.

“Why…?” Luffy, who hadn’t stopped crying, tried shaking you as if that would rip you out of your dazed state, your hair tickling his cheek as you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head up to look at him properly. “Why did you do it?!” He kept yelling your name, now crushing you against his scarred chest, refusing to let you go. “You can’t leave us!” A choked sob rocked his body, a shiver running down your spine at the sheer pain lacing his youthful voice.

Chopper was clinging to your leg, burying his face in your calf to hide his swollen eyes. “I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry! Please…” The mink was talking to himself at this point, stuck between begging whatever deity was listening and apologizing to you for not getting to you in time, for not being smart enough to find a cure. Zoro’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, loathing the helplessness wrapping around their group viciously, refusing to look away from you, still being held up by the devil fruit user’s embrace. His heart was fighting tooth and nail to keep itself from breaking, minuscule cracks growing the heavier your eyes got. Unbeknownst to him, there was already a scar in the shape of you.

Sanji gritted his teeth, taking a few steps in your direction, blinking away the moisture building up in his lash line, he didn’t want to miss any detail in your face, knowing it was the last time he’d ever get to admire it. In his eyes, you were as beautiful as ever, not even death could take your beauty away from you. Nothing would convince him otherwise.

Their allies could only watch, growing restless as the silence continued, were you gone already? None of them were close enough to see your face clearly, your crewmates had formed a circle around you, protecting you from unwanted eyes. Each of them had different opinions on your rambunctious group, however, none of them could deny that you were fiercely loyal to each other and seeing such a tight-knit crew lose a member was disheartening, a few of them inching closer to their own. It was an unspoken agreement, to pay their respects to the person who had given it her all to win this battle, saving them from a similar fate.

“Because… you called me your friend.”

Your soft voice cut through their thoughts seamlessly, a few gasps escaping from Nami, Usopp and Chopper. Zoro’s eye widened, almost losing his grip when the meaning behind that phrase registered in his brain; whereas Sanji chose to let his feelings take over, slowly sinking to his knees. Brook hung his head, and if he had eyes, he would’ve closed them, not wanting to witness the inevitable. Franky, on the other hand, kept his steely gaze on you, his fists growing tighter with each droplet of your blood that had touched the ground, none of this made any sense to the cyborg whose robotic body shook with the strength of his pained weeping. Your sweet words were like a knife to Jinbei’s kind heart, all of his memories with you as part of the crew playing like a cinematic sequence in his mind, you were one of the first to approach him when he had finally accepted Luffy’s invite. Robin could only smile, finally allowing her tears to drip down her face, wishing she could hold you for one last time. Life without you was unfathomable to them at this point, could this truly be reality? Wasn’t there any way to rewind time to save you?

None of them could see Luffy’s face, his reaction to you admitting that you were willingly exchanging your life for theirs in the name of your friendship. But it wasn’t hard to guess, seeing as he’d pressed his face into your neck, inhaling your scent to soothe his racing heart, torn to pieces by you and his inability to help you. He knew from the moment that he saw you that you would become an important part of his crew, however, he never imagined that it would end like this. He wasn’t ready to continue his journey without you. How could he become the King of the Pirates if you weren’t by his side?

“You truly are the best crew I could’ve asked for. I’m thankful for you… From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” Your eyes were fully closed, the corners of your lips curling up ever so slightly in a loving smile. It was a breathtaking image that would be branded into their hearts forever, sealed with your very last words to them.

“I love you.”

© 2020-2023 loveliest-venus — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Please do NOT repost, translate, modify, use for AI or claim my content as yours.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

HIHIHIHI i loooove your tadc and yaelokre headcanons and Perrine is my absolute favourite, do you have any headcanons on how well the lark fare in winter? Like individual or general problems they face or literally anything idm!! (Especially Perrine) <3

you bet i do!!

Winter is harsh for the kids.

They don’t perform as often in the winter due to a variety of reasons. Like the wind being too strong, so it throws their voices and makes it impossible for them to be heard. Or it simply being too cold.

And even when they do perform, not many people show up since their venue is outside.

They sometimes get indoor venues, but not often.

That being said, money can be tight during the winter months.

Which makes everyone stressful.

Mainly Perrine, as she mostly handles the funds, and she tries to keep the others oblivious when they’re running low on money, as she doesn’t want to worry them.

Because then Cole will start to get anxious, and Kingsley will start to wail about how they’re going to starve, and even though he’s joking, that just makes Cole even more anxious.

The cottage is a sanctuary, but they had to make some adjustments to it, such as sealing windows and such.

Cole worries that nobody will like them anymore, since they don’t perform as often.

Perrine chops woods and always makes sure there’s fuel for the hearth.

She’s also hunting more often, as catching their food saves money for other things.

Kingsley gets really bad cabin fever and starts to become restless when cooped up inside for too long, which he makes everyone else’s problem.

The kids don’t fight often, but when they do, it’s usually during winter.

Because again.

Everyone is kinda cooped up inside during the colder months.

So they sometimes will snap at each other for the most mundane things.

Perrine especially gets annoyed really easily.

In general, she’s the one with the shortest temper, but her fuse is even shorter during winter.

It’s not that she doesn’t love the others. She does!

But dear god. They can be so annoying sometimes.

Kingsley especially, as much as she loves him.

She needs her space.

She needs time alone.

When it’s warmer, she often spends most of her time outside, doing different things. She just likes being by herself.

And she can’t do that when there’s a snowstorm outside.

Clémentine, on the other hand, is the exact opposite.

They love being around everyone more!

They’re very much a people person, and everyone being together makes them happy!

They’re usually the one to placate and calm down Perrine when she’s cranky.

Clémentine loves to cuddle when it’s cold. It’s so cozy!

Perrine once got lost in a blizzard.

It came out of nowhere.

One moment, it was clear.

The next, the wind had picked up, and suddenly the world around her was all white.

She was out hunting, far from the cabin.

Now, Perrine prided herself on her tracking skills.

But in that blizzard, she immediately became lost. She couldn’t tell what direction she came from, and it was soon impossible to see more than three feet in front of her, so she had no way to right herself. Everything looked the same.

It was painful.

Pelting snow trying to stab her blind.

Every breath being snow-thick and suffocating.

So cold she burned.

But even more than the pain…

She was terrified.

Where should she go? Where was the way home?

Was she going to die?

The cold was death. Thick, white, impenetrable death.

She was staring death in its face.

It’s scary, how things could change so quickly.

She was perfectly fine one moment, and less than fifteen minutes later, she was in the beginning stages of hypothermia, ever so slowly getting colder.

She was layered in furs, yes. She had a coat and a hat and gloves and thick boots, of course.

And yet, the cold found its way in, somehow. Like a maggot in hot flesh, it burrowed itself through her clothing and into her warmth, slowly extinguishing that flame that burned within every person.

Life.

She kept moving. Somehow. Even when the snow piled higher and higher, making it that much more difficult to simply lift her feet.

If she could steady her shuddering breaths, maybe she could get her extremities to follow…

In through the nose, because if she opened her mouth, she worried her tongue might freeze.

She just had to block out everything else- the wind, the cold, the unrelenting voices in her head telling her to give up.

Just breathe. Focus…and breathe…

But even as she trudged in what she hopped was the cottage, she was still throttled.

And her will began to wane.

Until…

The world cracked.

Cold clenched her lungs so tightly that each breath was a silver razor in her chest.

Her mind tripped in sluggish circles, white-blind and hum-deaf, until color and sound turned into overlapping floods as her body burst into fiery pins.

She was spinning…spinning…spinning…

This was how she died.

She wondered about the others.

How long until they noticed she was gone? Had they already realized that she was missing for too long and shouldn’t be out in such bad weather? Were they trying to look for her, despite the storm?

Or did they not care at all?

Were they happy to have her gone?

And how would they fare when she was dead and buried beneath the snow, her body to never be found until the ice thawed? By then, she would have been eaten by some desperate creature, scrabbling to survive in the cold, just as she had been trying to do.

Bones and fur and nothing else to designate her as something that was ever truly human.

Because what was the difference between her and a wolf? Her and a bird? Her and a deer? They all lived, they all died, they all fought to survive.

She always felt like she was a resilient person. She was the oldest- she had to be.

But she was not winning this fight.

Her life was flashing before her eyes, her brain desperately trying to find a way to save itself.

Tears froze on her cheeks.

She couldn’t even sob because her mouth had frozen shut.

She was a living thing already going through algor mortis.

And then…

She was hot.

What?

Why was she hot?

She felt like she was burning up.

So, so, so hot.

These clothes…

They were frying her.

She needed to her these damn furs off!

And as she was…

She heard something over the wind and the sound of her own heartbeat.

Footsteps…?

A figure was standing with her in the storm.

The blizzard was like a glittering shroud, wrapping the figure in veils of white. They wore the storm like a dress, seemingly unaffected by its cruelty.

Was this…an angel?

Perrine never really considered her the religious type. But she wouldn’t turn it away. She didn’t have the strength to.

It stood there for a moment, just staring at her.

Then, a hand was extended to her.

Looks like it was time to go.

She took its hand, and it hauled her to her feet with surprising strength.

It began to practically drag her through the woods, and Perrine could barely keep up in her frozen, delirious state.

“Wait! S-slow down!” she wheedled. “I can’t breathe!”

It didn’t listen. Or maybe it didn’t hear her over the howling gales. Either way, it kept going.

Perrine thought she blacked out eventually, because most of her memories from there were all white and too blurry.

But when she managed to claw herself to consciousness again, she found herself…in the cottage. In front of the hearth. Piled in blankets to the point where she could barely move. With the others all cuddled around her.

What…?

Somewhere on a snowy hillock, looking down at the whiteout below, a pair of figures stood, unimpeded and unaffected by the cold.

“I thought you were all about the cycle never being broken,” the Enkindled spoke. “So do enlighten me: why didn’t you let the child die?”

Rime formed a deathly mask over the Croon’s skull, and when it breathed out, plumes of white billowed into the air.

“Well?” The Enkindled poked it with a skinny finger. “Does this not ruin the order you speak of?”

“No,” the Croon rumbled. “Her death would unbalance the scale.”

“Are you saying the child is chaos?”

The Croon shook out its whole body, much like how an animal would when it’s wet. Icicles are dislodged from its antlers and spray out like daggers. The Enkindled raised a hand to shield its face.

“Rude.”

“Order can’t live if chaos dies.”

“So I’m right, then.”

“…”

“You can let me be right for once.”

[gabessquishytum]

Saw an old Ballet AU ask and just... I'm melting.

I love my clichés, so ex-dancer Dream who is a single father to Orpheus. Dream is very bitter about not being able to dance anymore due to an injury + not having time for physical therapy. So it takes some courage for Orpheus to ask him to teach him to dance. Dream refuses but signs Orpheus up to a dance class, somewhere where he can dance and Dream doesn't have to think about dancing.

Enter ballet teacher Hob, who just wants his young students to have fun. Dream is a little surprised that Orpheus doesn't come home exhausted and miserable like he used to. He decides to check the class out, just to make sure he's not paying crazy money for a scam.

Hob is not a scammer for sure. What the kids are doing is learning ballet. But Hob does not scream at them when they mess up, doesn't make them do something over and over again until they collapse. He gently motivates them and lets them set their own pace.

Dream tells himself he will not visit the class ever again after he made sure it's legit. It made his heart ache to see Orpheus, who is his little clone, dance like he used to. But then there is this event where the kids are supposed to bring their parents and Death was supposed to fill in for Dream but she [insert excuse] at the last minute and he has to go because Orpheus would be heartbroken if he didn't attend. Nothing can be done; Dream will just explain that he's had a serious injury and can't dance. Hopefully, they will still let Orpheus participate.

But Hob assures him that he will not make him do anything difficult, he should at least try, for Orpheus, and when Dream is exhausted, Hob will gladly fill in for him, but please try... Dream is easily swayed by Hob's doe eyes and agrees. And he absolutely regrets telling Hob about the injury because Hob remains close by his side, supporting him through movements that should be difficult to an amateur that Dream would still manage in his sleep. He is basically dancing with Hob as Hob keeps his hands on Dream, and for a moment even Orpheus is forgotten, though he doesn't mind because he's finally seeing his dad smile! Probably for the first time ever.

I'll cut it off here before it becomes an entire ficlet. XD You all know how the story goes, anyway.

- 🚒

Am crying softly. I bet Dream was so torn up when Orpheus said he wanted to do ballet. Of course Dream would do anything for his son, but with his past, its so painful to see this little mini version of himself following the same path that he once took. His relief in knowing that Orpheus is being treated with kindness and is actually enjoying himself almost makes him burst into tears.

Hob actually recognises Dream from his previous career, but he doesn't go all fanboy on him when they first meet. Hob is gentle, kind, and just a tiny bit pushy - the perfect combination of things to persuade Dream that maybe he can dance. This one time.

And Hob gets to watch as Dream’s body wakes up from its long dormancy. Its the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Orpheus is grinning and twirling around with pure joy, and Dream is absolutely beaming - and oh dear, Hob might be just a tiny bit in love.

At the end of the event when Hob offers Dream an hour each week in the studio to practice some gentle dance, he promises that he'll be around to support him both physically and emotionally. He doesn't quite anticipate that Dream will lean in and kiss him on the cheek. Or that Orpheus will hug him so tightly.

And oh, he's not just a little bit in love. He's head over heels!

[websterss]

HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES — NETEYAM SULLY

SUMMARY: You’ve been struggling with Neteyam’s death ever since his funeral. This causes the Sullys to worry about your well being. To ensure that you don’t do anything irrational, the kids follow you to the spirit tree every night, where you spend your time with your lost love.

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of suicide, attempt drowning, fluff at the end

WORD COUNT: 5,989

PAIRING: Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya!fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Denial was the first stage of grief that one felt when trying to cope with trauma. At some point and time, everyone falls subjective to it. Finding ways to trick the mind to believe something other than the truth. When someone is in a state of denial they begin to suppress their emotions. They grow incapable of coming to terms with what is and what has happened. That’s the current state you resided in. In a cycle of trial and error. Attempting to process a sudden change, but then avoid doing so to neglect the pain you don’t want to endure. Rather, neglect the fact that Neteyam was gone. It’s crazy to think how only hours ago he was rescuing you from the ship. Telling you to run and get to safety, but you were willing to follow his skxawng ass anywhere. You got him back for a few minutes, it was only a few minutes you wished you’d have cherished longer. 

You didn’t want to let go. You didn’t listen to him, didn’t flee, didn’t return home, and didn’t think that you were putting yourself in danger, not when he was still risking his own life. He had the habit, his prolonged responsibility to watch over his siblings, be there to guide them, protect them, but who was protecting him? Who was making sure that he was okay and that he was protected? You bore that pain. Wondering why you let him push you into the water, instead of grabbing his hand to jump with you. His struggling attempts to stay afloat haunt you. A bad nightmare that looms over you when you're trying to sleep and causes you to wake up alarmed. The thought leaves a foul taste in your mouth. It makes you shudder, makes you twitch in discomfort, especially when you recall the blood that dyed the ocean red. His blood coated your cerulean hands. His death wasn’t one you wanted to accept so easily.

Not as you helped pull the leaf you placed him on, out into the water with his family. You were taken back by how calm the water swayed. That in itself was surprising because the ocean always seems to have a mind of its own. You're reminded of the Eywa instantly. How the inner workings of life flow within her. How her network makes it possible for all living things, plants, and animals to connect as one. The way the ocean remains tranquil makes you assume that this is all Eywa’s doing. Could she feel the shift in the atmosphere through the way of the water? The gathering of the Metikayina clan and the Sullys came together as one to mourn the loss of casualties. Was Eywa allowing a moment's worth of peace? Providing security and a safe passage to lay the dead to rest. 

You weren’t sure.  

Your mind continuously wanders. Distracted from the way the water welcomes you all in a gentle embrace. Kind enough to hopefully welcome you back for a night swim with Neteyam. Various nightly escapades forefront, reminding you of you and Netyeam sneaking out to a secret beach you discovered. It was your most favorable time spent together. Venturing around the island, risking the chances of getting into trouble, but it never worried you, nor him. His rebellious side was one you didn’t know you wanted to see more of till he grabbed your hand one night and told you to be quiet, he didn’t want his siblings to wake up. Your eyes fleet, taking in your surroundings. An unsettling earl sets off your senses. Your ears flatten, attention engaged, eyes falling onto his family swimming forward with you. The lost look on your face didn’t fall past Lo’ak watching with worry as you whipped your head around. You were unfamiliar with your surroundings all of a sudden. 

Weren’t I just at the docks? How did I manage to get this far out?

Your attention falls onto him then. Your freak-out incident, coming to a stop. The breath you inhaled blocked your airway. You hold on tightly, your fingers curl into the leaf. Your eyes drifted onto his motionless body, sparing seconds of what was left of your sanity. His soft features were relaxed. Victim to a deep slumber.

He was only resting, you thought. Just resting.

You tilt your head. A smile dances its way onto your lips. The band holding his hair in one nicely kept ponytail stirs a flutter within your stomach. You can’t help but laugh. Finding his neatly kept hair hilarious, whereas you preferred the vicious swinging braids more than anything. You like to remind Neteyam that his hair seems to have a mind of its own. You're oblivious to the narrowed pinched glares cast at you. You press your fingertips over your mouth in hopes of making yourself stop.

“Why’s his hair pulled back? Neteyam never pulls his hair back.” Another rumble of giggles emits past your lips as you reach forward to free the braids of their confinement. The only thing coursing through your mind is that Neteyam would be grateful. Knowing that his long braids could never be tamed and forced into a ponytail. Your laughter comes to an abrupt stop. A firm grip on your wrist brings you back to reality for just a second– a second of truth, one you didn’t want to submit to.

“No Y/n.” Lo’ak shakes his head. He reached over Neteyam’s body to stop you. His hand was still wrapped around your wrist as he pushed your hand back towards your chest. 

“He likes to wear his hair loose.” You tug at his constricting grasp on your arm. His restless eyes meet your twisted frown. 

“Y/n-” He says your name with a break, almost in a warning-like. Holding himself back from causing a scene, but you already caused one first. “Just leave it.” He pressed your wrist to your chest. Pushing harshly in hopes you’d get the message. Hoping you wouldn’t push. You can only bring yourself to cast your eyes down. The tension in your shoulders disappears and your shoulders slump. The ache in your chest worsened, and the dissatisfaction of seeing his hair brought together by a band continues to bother you.  

“He likes it loose…just let him wear it loose.” Lo’ak glances at you before he turns to face forward again. 

Your mind continuously wandered. Hypnotized from the way your body feels weightless. Like the feather behind Neteyam’s ear. You're fully immersed but the journey to the sea anemone is lost on you. You don’t comprehend what’s happening as you all slowly bring him out of the leaf. Turning his body so his face met the night sky. You don’t hesitate to lay your hand over his bound ones. You lean in, eyes wide, your heart begging for a sign. Pain paints your eyes, a tear falling into the water causing a ripple. 

“You gotta let him go kiddo.” Jake’s strained voice startles you. Your eyes remain on Neteyam. Your body was present but your mind was still back on the ship. Back on the rock where you watched life leave his eyes. “Y/n?”

“Y/n, they have to take him, okay?” Lo’ak voices echo in your ears. His own hands wrap around your own. Slowly prying your grip away from his brother's hands. You don’t react to this. Lo’ak drags you back away from his body. Keeping his arms wrapped around your frozen frame. Neytiri feigns a frown watching you lose yourself there all at once and all together. She turns to meet her husband's gaze and then takes a deep breath along with him. Both dive opposite of each other to help their momentum to lower their son's body into the water. Pushing with their hands and legs. Kiri, Tuk, and Spider, then join, lowering themselves into the water to watch. Lo’ak eyes fix themselves on you. Your eyes stared out into the open water, not meeting his own. 

“Take a deep breath, okay.” Lo’ak executed the action, reminding you how to do so. Your eyes flicker up to him for a moment before intaking a good amount of air. He offered a nod then your bodies sunk past the surface layer. You didn’t know what to expect but watching as Neteyam’s body was slowly lowered, the first yellow tendril making contact with his arms and legs, it made you want to scream, swallow the water that would fill your lungs. Sink down to the bottom with him. The thought grew very tempting. Even as Lo’ak removed his arms around you. So you went along with the idea. Impulse taking over rationality. You opened your mouth, watching air bubbles rumble in front of your face. Your lungs burn as the saltwater makes your body convulse. The surface not being more than an arm's length away, but you were stupid enough to widen the distance. Allow yourself to sink. To drown in your own sorrow

You didn’t watch as his body descended to the bottom of the sea anemone.

As far as you were concerned, his death never happened. The situation left you in a state of hysteria. Even after Lo’ak and Kiri’s failed attempts. You would still not believe them when they told you that Neteyam was gone. That he was dead. You refused to believe such an absurd thing. 

That was the first change they noticed in your state of denial. Not wanting to take the necessary steps to mentally prepare for his death. The second change made Lo’ak and Kiri’s hearts settle with uneasiness. After Neteyam's passing, you were unable to function as effectively as the others. When Lo'ak observed you occasionally, you would stare at the water, oblivious to the world around you, and solely focus on the ripples the water created. You did this so often that you made it a habit to tune out the living and wait on the dead. Counting on Neteyam to resurface, and come help you understand why your whole world suddenly turned upside down. He always had the answers to your questions. Always had the ability to ease your troubles and doubts. 

There was never any cause for concern. The way they would find you sitting alone. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Until you made it a habit of not coming up for air. Lo’ak and Kiri had decided to voice their concerns towards their parents when you hadn’t resurfaced for over a few minutes one night. You were pushing yourself to hold your breath for longer periods. A dangerous habit. One they didn’t want to see the end results of when you eventually didn’t break through the top layer of water. The conversation they had with their father playing like a broken record in the back of their heads. A constant reminder not to let you out of their sights. 

-

“I want you to follow her, see where she goes, okay.”

“What?” Lo’ak met his father’s eyes with disbelief. “Why us? Dad, you need to tell her something. Ground her. Keep her home. Y/n’s not okay. She won’t listen to Kiri and me, but maybe if you talk to her, she will!” 

“Dad, she keeps wandering off during the night. Dad, I’ve found her gasping for air other times because she’s tried to stay underwater. She needs help!” Kiri pleaded. “You have to help her!”

“If what you two are telling me is true, then you need to keep a close eye on her. Someone in her state cannot be trusted to be left alone right now, okay? Why do you think I’m keeping an eye on your mother?”

“I-I thought you said mom was fine?” Lo’ak furrowed his brows. 

“She’s not.” Jake shook his head. “I’m lucky enough if I can get her to eat something every day, let alone get her out of bed…Look that girl’s not thinking straight. She’s mourning your brother. We all are. And right now, trying to grasp the difference between right and wrong is not something she can do.”

“Not grasping? Neteyam’s dead! What is there not to grasp? He’s gone, Dad, and she doesn’t want to believe that…” Lo’ak voice broke. Turning his head so that his father couldn’t see him cry. Though when he lifted his head to meet his dad’s eyes again, he found him in the exact same state. Jake reached forward and pulled Lo’ak into his chest. Holding him close, providing comfort.

“Y/n can’t mentally grasp anything right, right now Dad. She’s barely taking care of herself as it is.” Kiri’s lips formed into a thin line. “I don’t want to watch her meet the same fate as Neteyam. I can’t go through that again.”

“I know. I know. He’s gone and it’s hard to come to terms with that sometimes. Especially for your mom, and for Y/n. Just– Y/n’s in denial right now which is making it very hard for her to even want to deal with the idea of Neteyam being gone. We know he’s gone, your mother and tuk, they know he’s gone, but Y/n doesn’t, okay? You can’t make someone process a loss if they’re not willing to, and she’s not willing to. I just need you two to make sure she doesn’t give in to her impulsive thoughts, okay? Keep her from doing anything stupid. At least until she’s ready to try and move forward.”

“What do you want us to do until then?” Lo’ak pulled back. Annoyance struck Jake’s features, ready to scold the boy.

“Did you not just– Just make sure her heart’s still beating by the end of each night, yeah? That’s all I ask. Keep her alive.”

“You mean to keep her from killing herself.” Lo’ak scowled. 

“Lo’ak-” Kiri nudged him. 

“Just do me that favor.” Jake closed his eyes, not wanting to dispute with his children. Not having the energy to do so anymore. “Please, that's all I ask. All I ask.”

“Yes sir.” Lo’ak nodded. Bowing his head. 

-

You slowed your breathing as Neytiri and Jake settled down into a deep slumber.

A broken laugh would leave your lips anytime Lo’ak or Kiri, even Tuk, would try and convince you to eat. Poor Tuk. She couldn’t convince you to play with her anymore either. Her favorite pastime moments were no more. She missed having you braid her hair. It felt like something that was lost now. Neteyam’s death took a toll on trying to be happy. You knew it was something that you could be, but sadly it was something you were not. 

Neteyam was a memory. A dream really. An endless thought that enlightened your spirit. He made things better, but you were no better. The light within you dimmed when he took his last breath. All the oxygen left your body that day too. You were still clawing for air, trying to reach for it, to give oxygen to your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. Not without him.

Tsireya and Aonung were made aware of this as well. Both offered to secretly take care of you each time you dived.

“She’s hurting. We all are. You just need to make sure she doesn’t give in to her impulsive thoughts okay? Y/n grieves him differently...”

Lo’ak replayed his fathers' words as he, Kiri, Tsireya, and Aonung, followed from a discreet distance. You snuck out of the Marui pod and called upon your Ilu. One of several times you’ve done so. It was muscle memory to you by now. The act of going off on your own.

You never went anywhere far. Just to the Cove of the Ancestors. Lo’ak picked up on where you’d go after the third time he and Kiri followed you. You always rode out to the spirit tree. It was your most frequented place after the funeral.

You dismounted your Ilu. Removing your queue before taking a deep breath. The others had arrived just as you dove in head first. Your Ilu swimming off.

Lo’ak had turned onto his back, relaxing on his Ilu. Hands behind his head as he watched the night sky. The others were staring, but this was what it was like waiting for you. It was routine, and Lo’ak wanted to lay down till your return.

“How long till she resurfaces?” Aonung followed Lo’ak and relaxed on his Ilu. Tsireya and Kiri remained seated but Tsireya’s shoulders were slumped. The composure of the chief's daughter faded amongst her friends. On the occasion of your nightly visits to the Cove, it’d mostly be Lo’ak and Kiri attending. Tsireya and Aonung would come along, but it was never frequent for them. Yet tonight the whole gang was here.

“She’s been getting better at breathing. She was down there for almost an hour the day before.” Lo’ak removed his hands and dipped them into the water creating ripples. “I’m betting thirty minutes, maybe less.” His ear twitched as he heard a scoff to his right. Kiri rolled her eyes. 

“The spirit tree allows you to breathe once you make the bond, Lo’ak.” Tsireya reminded him. “Like the Txampaysye (Gill Mantle). Y/n is able to spend a longer time in the water.”

“Skxawng. We are not here to bet on anything. Mind him Tsireya, he doesn’t understand what these visits mean to Y/n.” Kiri sighed as she spoke to Tsireya. “It’s however much time she needs, not how long she takes. Besides, she’s always resurfaced!” Kiri splashed Lo’ak.

Lo’ak’s mood now peeved, he shot her a narrowed glare. “What about last time, huh?”

“We don’t talk about it, Lo’ak!” Kiri’s eyes grew. She shook her head, warning him. If he so much as peeped. “You promised Dad!”

“What happened last time?” Aonung eyes flickered back and forth between the siblings.

“Kiri thinks Y/n was drowning last time.” Lo’ak lifted his chin staring right through her. Waiting to see a falter in her poised composure.

“You do not believe so?” Tsireya’s eyes narrowed, shifting onto Lo’ak in question.

“She couldn’t hold her breath anymore–'' Kiri tries but Lo’ak cuts her off again.

“No, she wanted to drown!” Lo’ak couldn’t hold back any longer. He was tired of sugarcoating that horrid night. Tired of keeping it a secret. “It’s why she won’t talk to her.” He looked at the two siblings and then at Kiri. “She’s mad at you because you saved her. Then you told Dad, and now we come out here and bring her home every night. That's the truth, Kiri!”

“She was hurting that day-“ Kiri closes her eyes.

“Y/n knew what she was doing Kiri.” Lo’ak neared his Ilu closer to her. Placing a hand on her shoulder. “It was not an accident.” Kiri gave in, nodding. Agreeing. Coming to terms with the fact she stopped you from trying to drown yourself. “If she doesn’t come up when the fish swim by, we go down for her. Yes?” He suggested. “Until then we take turns checking up on her.”

“Okay.” Kiri sighed.

“Okay.” Tsireya nodded.

“What do we do until then?” Everyone looked over to Aonung. “Wanna play a game?” They were not amused in the slightest. “What?” Aonung raised his arms.

“You can swim down first to check on her.” Lo’ak declared, pushing Aonung off his own Ilu.

-

Your eyes reopened after attaching your queue to the tree. You sat at the edge of a grass bed, feet dipped in the water. Neteyam disapproved of you doing so. You had the tendency to swish your feet back and forth, creating bubbles and ripples. Just like you were doing now. You smirked, eyeing a fish that swam away. You tilted your head, catching sight of its gray fin from behind. The poor thing had hidden from you behind a big rock.

“You’re scaring the fish.” A gasp escaped past your lips. You had lost count of how many times hearing his voice still surprised you. You wanted to tear up hearing him speak because it shouldn’t have felt real, but it was. He was. You knew it was because your hand would connect against the side of his face, every time. You could touch him, hear him, and cherish the mere sight of him alone. He was gone physically, but here. Here Neteyam was real. 

The visits grow more difficult as time passes. You are able to stay for longer periods. The tree provides you with the possibility. Though, every time he appears, and you see his face, you fall into the false reality of his presence. Though you have to wake up from this at some point. Arriving to the tree is easy, it is the leaving that pains you. Your light would flicker as you’d go to close your eyes again, and the harsh reality would punch you right in the face, and you’d be met with the luminescent glow of the tree. The pink hue mocking you. You were always on the verge of a breakdown. During your first visit, you were sure you had filled the pond more with how much you cried. Neteyam was scared, thinking you were injured, but you had made the excuse that the Paysyul (Water Lily) he picked out for you was causing your eyes to water. That it was due to allergies, but Na’vi hardly got sick, yet he bought it. He stopped giving them to you afterward. Practically rid the pond of their existence. It made you cry even harder. That’s why your visits never lasted long enough. You could never hold yourself together in front of him.

“The fish are fine.” You smirked, glancing over your shoulder. You were met with a wide tooth grin and fangs. 

He’s real here, you keep telling yourself as he grows near. 

Your mouth opened as your eyes met. He was a vision. Beautiful. Transitioned from his baby face phase into the man you love. You didn’t dare speak in past tense. Your love for him was infinite. You’d love him forever until your dying breath. Your heart grew fonder as you both grew older. Playdates turned into hangouts, turned into meetings at this very pond. He and his father founded it first, the start-up of their father-son pastime, but Neteyam eventually granted you admission, having shared his safe place with you. Showing you where he collected his game, and where he ran off too to let off steam. It was where you two could get away. Be two skxawngs in love. Away from curious on-lookers. Where you weren’t trying to exceed as the next Tsahik and he wasn’t training to follow in his father's footsteps as Olo'eyktan. You were simply Y/n and Neteyam. Two peas in a pod. Fishes in a pond, really. 

Neteyam, not in the slightest bit amused, saw you eyeing the fruit in his hand. He bit into one of them before making his way over to your side. He set his bow down to his side and took his seat. Soaking his feet in the pond too. He chewed on a piece as he offered the other four in his palm. You bit your lip, looking amongst them to grab the ripest one. You took one and bit into it. Your eyes nearly crossed in pleasure due to the sweetness it gave off. The delightful snack almost makes you forget about the boy of the hour. You press your fingertips to your lips as you swallow the bite. You turn your head not expecting his eyes already on you. One look from him was all it took to make your ears dip. You felt a whirlpool in your stomach before you turned away. You cleared your throat and tucked a loose braid behind your ear. “See, they are perfectly happy.” You gestured with your finger to the fish swimming near your feet. 

Neteyam playfully narrowed his eyes at you as he took another bite out of his Yovo. He offered another fruit to you but sucked his teeth when you shook your head no. You weren’t here to eat. He rolled his eyes and let them drop beside him. Coming to his feet again. He collected his bow and an arrow. Eyes scanning the pond, following the movement of the fishes. He dared a glance down at you. His smile grew as you tried shying away again, but your eyes never swayed from him. You could see the shift in his demeanor turn into a cocky one. Always wanting to impress you, even in the afterlife. He gave you a smirk, then focused on his breathing and his stance. It was enough to make you turn into a puddle. A whirlpool of a hurricane in spin mode. Neteyam knew how flustered you got around him, he practically grew another ego from it, but you continued to encourage it even now. 

He exclaimed, raising his hands in the air as the arrow hit its target. You laughed as he jumped into the pool picking up the wriggling fish. The creature twitched in his grasp. You squinted, covering your face, as water droplets hit you. He looked down at it, inspecting its size and width, before yanking the arrow out of it. You grimaced watching it grow still. They were yummy, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still think they were gross. Your nose scrunched as he came closer. 

Fish, you hated them. It’s why you stopped eating them back at the Marui pod. You had enough of them. You were convinced that Eywa had turned one of them yellow during one of your last visits to keep it spontaneous. To keep the peace and to keep away any annoyance you had of them. Yet, Neteyam was the happiest when shooting for fish. You’d watch him shoot that same damn fish over and over again because he loved it, and you. You loved Neteyam. Seeing him at ease with himself passing the time at the pond. It brought you comfort. You wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

Neteyam held the fish up like a trophy. Amazed by the big game he was going to bring home. The proud smile of his father is what he was hoping to see. He looked at the fish like it was the coolest thing in the world. Though upon knowing, he has done much more exciting endeavors. But catching big game trumped undergoing his Iknimaya for sure. You were slightly guilty for his great catch. You would make one fish slightly more significant, larger than the rest during each visit. The bigger the fish, the more his smile grew. It was the only thing you wanted to see.

“Do you see this?” He beamed with delight. “Oh thank you Great Mother for this gift!” 

The only thing.

You hadn’t realized you had been crying until Neteyam voiced his concerns. Until his thumb caressed over the fallen tears on your cheek.

“You okay, syulang (flower)?”

“Mmm?” You sniffled, looking up at him with a half-hearted laugh.

“You’re crying. Are you unwell? Was it the Yovo?” He reached across you, going for the dropped purple fruit next to you. He wanted to see if they were bad, but you stopped him.

“No, no, I’m okay.” 

Neteyam frowned as he reached up again. His thumb wiped another fallen tear. His touch lingered on your skin. “Something is wrong.” He huffed with a smile. He brought both hands up to cup your face.

“Nothing is wrong, ‘teyam.” You denied it.

“Yes, because I got rid of all the Paysyuls (Water Lilies). Your eyes should be dry.” Neteyam looked around the pond and then back to you. “Is it your allergies?”

“No, not that.” You shook your head. You turned his chin to face you. Hands cupping his face gently. You just held him there. So grateful to be able to feel him. See him.

“What is it then?”

“I’m just happy to see you.” Your eyes grew watery again. Neteyam leaned into your touch. “Spend time with you.”

His brows furrowed, a hint of a smile making its way onto his face. He grew amused but felt fond of your confession. Pressing the space between your eyes in a teasing manner.

“I’m happy to see you too.” His shoulders relaxed. You groaned as you shook out your hands. You were really bad at staying composed. You tried but failed to wipe away your tears, Neteyam reached forward again to wipe under one of your eyes. “But no more crying, you’ll scare the fish away.” He tried to remain serious but you saw him falter. His ears twitched. You gasped, hitting his shoulder.

“I will not!” You laughed. “The fish are fine.” He joined in on the laughter, happy to have brought back your smile. 

-

Lo’ak had sent Tsireya down after a while. He, Aonung, and Kiri watched as the bioluminescent fish swam underneath them. Mostly swirling around Kiri. He met her gaze before he went to inhale a big chunk of air. He released it though when Tsireya resurfaced.

“What happened? Is she okay?” Lo’ak asked. She gave a nod.

“She is fine. She’s coming up.”

They brought their heads out of the water. Waiting as you took your time resurfacing. The faint outline of your body could be seen as you grew closer. Once your head passed above the layer of water, you exhaled softly. You tread the water in silence. The others had formed a circle around you. You were staring off into space. Letting your thoughts cloud your mind. You had almost missed Lo’ak’s question.

“You okay? Did you see him?”

You only nodded. A tear trailing down your cheek and into the water like a dew drop. “He’s okay.” You sniffled. “He remains at the pond.” You let out a broken laugh. The group started to enclose the circle, each slowly resting a hand on you before engulfing you in their embrace. They hold you as you continue to tear up after your latest encounter with Neteyam. “I miss him.”

“We miss him too.” Kiri offered a faint smile. You glanced at her. Smiling faintly as you acknowledged her being here for you, even after you declared you hated her. Her teary eyes met yours in agreement. It was time to disperse and move past the fight you had with her.

“He’s at peace.” You sniffled. “That at least brings me some.”

“That’s good, no?” Lo’ak dipped his head to catch your eyes.

“It is, but it gets harder to visit. I don’t want to stop though.”

“Then don’t.” Lo’ak shrugged. The others nodded in agreement.

“Really?” You peered up through your eyelashes. “But don’t you hate coming with me? Waiting for so long?” You frowned.

“If this is helping you. We’ll be here every night, waiting for you. However long it takes.”

“Maybe not that long– Ow!” Aonung cried out in pain. Tsireya had swatted him over the head. “We’ll wait.” Aonung cleared his throat.

The corner of your lip lifts in amusement. You always assumed you weren’t worth someone going out of their way for you. This proved you wrong.

“Let’s go home yeah?” Lo’ak gestured over his shoulder. You nodded. He got on his Ilu first then offered his hand to you. You climb on the back and hold on for the ride home. Then you all took off. You glanced back at the spirit tree below the water knowing tomorrow would await another night visiting Neteyam. For the first time, you felt like you could breathe. There’d be no hurry to meet him now. He’d still be there welcoming your arrival with corny jokes and removing another found Paysyul (Water Lilies) from the pond. There was no rush to this, not when you were grieving him.

-

Lo’ak had imagined you being gone the next night. Your time spent at the Cove once more, but he was rather surprised seeing you sat near the Marui pod. Feet in the water. Hands gripping the woven edge. You were just mindlessly being. Existing and letting your thoughts run rampage through your head. He couldn’t help wanting to join you.

He came forward and sat next to you. Letting his feet get soaked. His hands were now gripping the edge too. He broke the deafening silence amongst you eventually. Though nothing was ever really quiet around here. The clicks of the sea life creatures and the motions of the tide entering the reef, provided enough sound. He was oddly curious about something though, so he asked you.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” You lifted your head. Eyes shifting onto him.

“Try to hold your breath for so long. You know there are Txampaysye (Gill Mantle) for that?” He teased you.

“It’s silly.” You bit your lip.

“Tell me.” He urged you.

“Neteyam and I, we used to compete to see who could hold their breath the longest.” You closed your eyes, imagining yourself coming up for air before him. “He’d always win.” Neteyam’s head would pop up in a shit-eating grin. One you’d splash him for. He was never boastful though. Never one to make you feel like a sore loser. “I just wanted to see if I could finally beat him for once.” You laughed. It was indeed silly, but it was silly to you in a sentimental way. Lo’ak being Lo’ak had decided to break your heartwarming memory.

“He definitely cheated.”

“What?” You gasped. “No, he didn’t.” You shoved him. “Neteyam was very just in his actions.”

“He cheated!” Lo’ak couldn’t contain his laughter. Swatting or holding your wrist to prevent you from pushing him into the water.

“He did not. Don’t say that. He let me win once.”

“He did?” Lo’ak stifles his laughter. His eyes and ears relaxing. He offered you a lopsided grin before growing serious again. Not wanting to dampen your memory of his brother.

“No.” You shook your head, feeling deflated. Lo’ak’s laughter picked right back up. Everything you thought you had ever known was ruined. “No, I think– I think he cheated.” You purse your lips. Staring straight into the water. You slacked your jaw, scoffing. “This is your fault!” You smacked his shoulder.

“My fault? This is Neteyam we are talking about.” Lo’ak continued to laugh. “He wasn’t always so serious Y/n, but he always liked to win.”

“It’s not funny!” You whined.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Lo’ak reached for your hands and gripped them tightly. “But no seriously, stop it, even if it brings back the memories of him. You can drown, and I really don’t want to give you CPR.” You gasped this time, playfully hitting him.

“You skxawng...” You smiled nonetheless. Lo’ak reciprocated. You were the only other person who liked to call him that. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he was missing Neteyam and being called that. The thought plunged deep into his heart, but it left a fond feeling. He had you now to help fill in the space where a gap was. “He loved you very much, Lo’ak. Never forget that.” You pressed your palm to his cheek. He nodded in response. Leaning into your palm. 

“He loved you too.” Lo’ak extended his arm out, bringing you to his side for a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the waves softly sway. 

“He caught a fish today.” 

“Is that all you two do in there, catch fish?” Lo’ak pulled back with a smirk.

“This big…” You smiled, extending your arms the length it was. “Lit up like the Spirit Tree.”

[cosmicpancakes]

I finally finished this omg!!

TW: graphic depictions of death and stuff, character death, mental breakdowns/panic attacks, stuff like that

Without further ado, here's the oneshot I wrote about that one time Lee Fletcher died lol

__

Tap, tap, tap.

His foot bounced up and down, tapping the tiled floor repeatedly. His nails were bitten to stumps. Will was pretty sure he was going crazy.

He couldn't just leave the infirmary, he knew that, but there had to be something he could do. The infirmary is empty. Even if it wasn't, his sister could easily handle it. He was no help here.

Scratch that. He needed to leave.

Shooting arrows is out of the question, but maybe he could steal a dagger from the infirmary. A spear, a sword- Anything he could use to help with out there. Ritika was already in the infirmary, she could handle an injured person! She was one of the oldest in the cabin anyway, and more skilled than he could ever be. She wouldn't notice if he sneaked away.

The office chair squeaked as it got wheeled back. He couldn't leave through the front, so looking around, he made sure his sister couldn't see him and then opened the window just wide enough for him to jump in the bushes behind the big house.

It hurt. His arms were covered in scratches, painting them an inflamed pink and his knees were stained with a mixture of soil and grass. A wince escaped his lips. He half crawled, half ran out of the Bush and started running towards the armoury.

It was only when he made his way in front of the big house that he realised the severity of the situation. Campers and monsters ran around, littering the green field with scattered arrows and golden dust. Screams and slashes rang in his ears. After a few seconds, his eyes locked onto the armoury just across the canoe lake bridge, and he made a run for it.

Narrowly avoiding monster claws and spears thrown in his direction, Will made his way across the wooden bridge. The planks wobbled beneath his feet until he finally made it to the other side. Greenery got flattened under him as he approached the armoury. It was a medium-sized wooden shed right next to the looming arena.

Shutting the door behind him, he stumbled through the arsenal until he found a decently functional long sword. It was heavier than he anticipated, seeing as he'd never actually held a sword before, but he didn't exactly have time to dwell on that. Just as quickly as he entered, Will made his way out and through the North woods.

This was where the fighting originated, where the monsters first emerged so he knew this was where he would be able to help the most. He could be useful for once. His legs ached, pulsating from the lactic acid build up but he knew he couldn't stop. He ran and ran, and continued running until he reached the labyrinth.

The fighting next to the big house was child's play compared to this. There wasn't a single patch of grass not covered in blood, weapons, or monsters. Corpses of both creatures and demigods were scattered throughout. His eyes moved about frantically, trying to find something he could fight and reasonably win against.

Lee.

His brother was in a small clearing between a few trees just to Will's left. He wasn't a monster, but leaving him alone would just make things worse, right? He sprinted towards him. Lee seemed to be shooting monsters from afar, helping campers on the main battlefield without putting himself in too much danger. It was a smart strategy, one only he could come up with. He was always the smart one, after all. Will was limping from the pain as he approached him, and when they locked eyes, both their eyes widened.

"Oh my Gods- Will! What are you doing here?" He yelled, his words still laced with concern despite trying to scold him. He felt a sense of shame bubble up in his throat.

"I... I couldn't just stay in the infirmary the entire time! I needed to help somehow, I couldn't stand being there doing nothing while people were dying!" He shouted back, his voice hoarse with the sound of sorrow. Lee's eyebrows furrowed.

"I told you to stay in the infirmary for a reason- and what are you doing with that sword? You can't even use it! You're going to seriously hurt yourself." He insisted, dropping his bow and facing him directly.

"I can help! I promise, just give me a chance!" He tried to point the sword towards his brother, but his already exhausted limbs gave out. The sword fell towards him, slashing the arm he was holding it with, and clinked to the ground.

Will yelped, instinctively grabbing the gash with his other hand. Crimson stained his freckled skin as he stood there in shock.

"No no no no no- This is why I didn't want you out here," He ran towards him, softly cupping his face. "Will. Look at me. You need to go back, okay? Ritika will take care of you, but you can't be out here." Lee's voice wavered as their eyes met. He ran his calloused thumb over his little brother's flushed cheek, wiping away tears that would never have been there if he just listened to him for once.

The quiet didn't last for long, though. His brother's head turned to their right as the thudding of too-large footsteps rapidly approached them. It took Lee too long to recognise that it was a hellhound running towards them.

"Just go!" He pleaded, his back turned as he frantically picked up his bow back up. His fingers expertly pulled the string back, arrow steady as he prepared to let go.

Crunch.

The hellhound ran past him, Front paw bloody, making its way for the crowded field. It didn't even see Will.

Something splattered on him. Like when Connor does a canon ball in the creek, and water covers him head to toe.

It was dripping from his face. His shirt was drenched.

... It was blood.

Lee was on the ground.

He wasn't moving.

Blood.

Blood everywhere.

Where is he?

He slowly made his way to him.

He shook his shoulders.

"Lee?"

More blood gushed out of where his neck was supposed to be. It pooled below him.

"Lee, wake up."

He shook his shoulders again.

"I'm sorry for distracting you."

His brother's t-shirt quickly turned from bright orange to a deep red. The only way you could tell it was him was the medic badge he so proudly displayed on his armour.

He wasn't a medic this time. He wanted to fight.

Will wanted to fight too.

Is that why he fell?

"Lee."

His hands were glowing. Flickering? His hands glowed when he healed people. Shallow wounds. Made them wake up.

They flickered. He wasn't healing yet.

It's okay.

He'll wake up.

His hands, still flickering with a soft glow, hovered over where his head should be. Scattered remains of a shattered cranium and pieces of torn cerebrum decorated the pool of blood like lily pads and algae on the surface of the lake. He tried scooping them in one place. His hands were red. Bright, bright red. Dark red. Lumpy. With bits in it. Sharp bits. Small little bits of brain.

Flicker.

flicker flicker flicker

wake up

wake up

lee im sorry

wake up

please

im sorry

There's screaming. Did those words come out? Did Lee hear them? Screaming. There's screaming.

"...-WILL!" He screamed. Will didn't look back to see who it was. "Will, what are you?-"

screaming

he sobbed

who?

"Lee- Lee, oh my-" He sobbed. He couldn't breathe. Who was yelling? "Will please, we can't- I can't lose you too, we need to-"

He didn't take his eyes off his brother.

flicker flicker flicker

wake up

Arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him. He fought. He fought so hard.

"Let me go! Let me- I need to-" He scratched them. He scratched the arms. Did they draw blood? He couldn't tell. Everything was already so

so

red

Bite. Scratch. Scratch.

They let go.

He fell back down. His hands weren't glowing anymore.

Or maybe they were?

He couldn't tell. Too much red.

A voice wept behind him. It grabbed him. The arms. The arms grabbed him again.

they wouldn't let go

he needs to fix him

why wouldn't he let go?

He was dragging him at this point. He fought so hard. Why didn't they let go this time? Doesn't he understand? He needs to heal him. He needs to fix him.

He lost track of where he was. There were no monsters. He could hear them, muffled as they may be, but they weren't there.

His vision was too blurry, too red to make out the details. Wooden walls again. Swords. Spears.

Bows.

He was clinging to someone. His red, sticky hands stained their shirt. One hand was going through his hair. Another hand was holding him.

Where was he?

Where's Lee?

There was blood running down his face again. So much blood.

Tears.

Not blood. Tears?

He couldn't breathe.

he couldn't breathe

"C'mon, breathe, breathe-" He whimpered, his voice shaking. He was crying too. "We'll- we'll fix him, okay? Shhh, breathe, breathe-"

His heart thumped, and thumped, and thumped and he still couldn't breathe

flicker flicker flicker

it's so red

"No no, shhh- I need to-" The arms shook. Their breath hitched. "It's nearly over, I need to go and help them- Just keep breathing, okay?"

flicker

"Stay here, okay? I'll- I'll come back."

Micheal left him.

He sat against the wall, unmoving. Unblinking.

He's gone.

Lee's gone.

_

Will tapped his foot against the tiled floor of the infirmary.

Tap, tap, tap.

On the other side of the room, Micheal was stuffing backpacks full of medical supplies. 7 rolls of bandages. 3 rolls of medical tape. 6 bottles of nectar.

"I'm missing something," His brother lamented, thinking.

Will watched him closely.

Tap, tap, tap.

Another war. It's only been a year since-

It's only been a year.

It was worse this time, however. More dire. More deaths. All of them could die, if they don't succeed.

Who knows how long they're gonna be there fighting? A day? A week?

Last time it was 3 hours, from what he was told.

He bit his lip.

"Hey Lee, could you pass me the necta-"

Micheal slapped his hands over his mouth, shaking his head. He's gone.

Will stopped looking at him.

His hands were red again. Covered in blood.

His hands never stopped being red; They only ever got bloodier.

Tap, tap, tap.

[ateez-himari]

HIMARI HEALTH UPDATE

An unexpected revelation comes out during an honest conversation with soloist Bang Yongguk regarding her health.

May 22, 2024 (10:05PM)

CONTENT WARNING. This article contains references to a car accident, death and parental loss. Please proceed at your own discretion.

A shocking truth was revealed by ATEEZ's youngest member through the released interview with soloist Bang Yongguk, which was that for five consecutive years she has managed to hide significant hearing loss in her right side. This came as a surprise to the majority of the fanbase due to the fact that health issues have always been addressed no matter how small, the fragile nature of her ribs following two fractures serving as the most prominent example, as well as the one that there were rarely ever signs that she was having trouble hearing.

It reportedly happened during the accident that claimed the lives of her biological parents twelve years ago and although she is not aware of the exact causes behind this, she recalls pieces of shattered glass cutting into her ear. While the idol is not completely deaf on that side she does struggle with things such as sound localization, simple hearing tasks and understanding conversations in noisy environments.

'It used to be frustrating during concerts because if a member didn't speak directly in my ear I had a lot of trouble understanding what they were saying, especially because of the loud cheers.' She confessed. 'It got better over the years when I learned to pay attention to only one sound at a time.'

Despite ments being the only times she is able to wear a hearing aid on stage, the music is still easily picked up through her auditory system due to the earpieces being lodged comfortably deep which is how she is able to keep the rhythm so perfectly. The device usually being hidden made its rare appearances on camera throughout logs and lives ignored for the most part, as viewers discarded it as something they simply did not understand the purpose of.

The trauma from the accident played a large part in the keeping of this secret as the questions it would raise necessitated her to explain what happened that day, which she had trouble coming to terms with until very recently. The vocalist admitted that due to having adapted without the aid it often went forgotten during formal events, which caused headaches along with fatigue, symptoms that are now encouraging her to wear it publicly more often to avoid deteriorating her health.

This came about when the older artist noticed his junior adjusting something behind her ear whilst asking for him to repeat himself, leading to a question about whether the device visible was a hearing aid or simply an in-ear. It was after a moment of what seemed to be internal debate that the confession finally came about, with netizens rapidly making connections to strange habits they have noticed such as members only whispering in her left ear or the vocalist occasionally turning in the wrong direction when called on.

As this impactful medical condition remains the aftermath of a very painful time, we ask that people refrain from asking questions about it unless it is agreed that she go more in depth about the situation.

A reminder that ATEEZ will be releasing their tenth mini album 'Golden Hour : Part 1' on May 31, with album sales ending the day of release. Stay informed on the platforms needed to support the group and continue to support the hard working idols.

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[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Teaser

Every day, every moment If I knew this was going to happen I would have remembered more of them

-Still With You

Summary: With You Still is a story that follows the lives of Luna and her most cherished friends. Love, Lust. Life, Loss. Passion, Pain. Desire and Death. Those are the many things that befall them as they navigate life trying to find their purpose. Will she be able to find a way to reach that utopia she had once dreamed of? Or will she realize that things that might've felt like a dream come true can soon be twisted into her worst nightmare. Read as Luna, Jungkook, Grey and Jimin navigate this thing called life. Will they get through this with their friendships intact? Only time will tell... Pairing: Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 600~ Warnings: Explicit language, yändere, mental illness, death, substance abuse, sex, domestic violence and sexual assault. Please keep this in mind as the story progresses. a/n: I transferred this story over from Wattpad but decided to change up some of the characters P.s. I have no set plan for this story so any suggestions or requests are more than appreciated

I never thought it could end up like this, that things could go to shit so easily.

Where did I go wrong?

Those are the thoughts that run through my head over and over again as I hold their cold lifeless body in my arms.

This doesn't happen, this couldn't happen! Not to us.

Everything was just falling into place and yet, it all went up in flames the moment I heard that blood curdling scream.

What did I do to deserve this? What did they do to deserve this? They were so young, had their whole life ahead of them, our life...

It was ripped away from us before it even began.

Endless sirens pierce my ears as they make their way to the scene but I can't help but feel that they're too late.

I can't lose them, not like this.

I could see our future fading away with every wave that washed over our bodies. Why are the young taken away in such horrific ways?

If things had been different, if I had been different, would it have changed anything? Or was it inevitable from the start...

Nothing in this world could possibly make me feel whole again, not after what he did. How could he do this? After everything we've been though he just goes off and hurts the one person I knew I could always rely on.

And for what? Because he was jealous?

I guess jealousy and revenge are more important to him than my happiness.

To think that I trusted him with my life because for once I let my guard down so I could actually feel something is laughable now after everything he's done

He proved to me that my worst nightmare could happen just because I wanted to feel loved.

Huh, well never fucking again will I ever love someone as much as I loved them.

I gave up my whole life just so I could be with him because I thought he was good for me. That he was going to take me away from all the pain and suffering I had dealt with my entire life.

When in actuality, his mind games were the ones that were twisting my reality into something that I didn't even recognize.

I never once felt like I needed someone to make me feel complete. And then he came around and I couldn't help but feel empty without him.

Everything about him made me want to get closer. But like Icarus I flew too close to the sun and in the end I got burned and in turn took everyone I knew and loved down with me.

Toxicity is the only word that can be used to describe what we had. I thought that he loved me the way that I loved him.

I was naÏve and had my vision tinted with pink colored glasses when it came to us. Even when everyone was telling me no, I couldn't help but say yes.

He was my one and only, my first true love as the fairytales call it.

Yet it all ended in the most excruciating heartbreak that I didn't even know existed.

Love can be cruel and rip you to shreds. I don't believe in love, and I never will. And I swear I will never allow anyone to get close enough to hurt me ever again.

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[softmangoes]

cabin fever | eden x defiant!pc

18+ only

summary: you finally slip free from your leash. eden finds you not long after.

includes: defiant!fem pc, captive to lovers, violence, animal death, pov switches, blood, first-aid, a very touch-starved eden

author's note: this is my very first DOL fic and of course it had to include my favorite forest husband. this was so fun to write, so please let me know what you think! 🧡

-

the large man pushes you back into the cabin before he falls to the floor with a dull thud. his hunting jacket is dark with blood flowing from an angry gash in his shoulder. you watch him, your knees stinging from scraping against the wooden planks, but he does not get back up.

behind the strands of his dirt-caked hair, you see one of his eyes trained on you.

"is this what you wanted?" he says, voice strained. "to run away?"

a part of you still wants to. with him in this vulnerable state, you're pretty sure you can.

ever since he had first dragged you into the cabin, you had spent hours weakening the leash with a flint arrowhead you managed to find near your post. finally, after days of being fucked against your will, you managed to slip free out of the cabin and into the woods.

it had not taken him long to notice you were gone. in your desperation, you did not think things through. he was a hunter, after all. of course he would find you.

and when he did, he had yanked you from the forest floor, kicking and screaming, gripping you so tightly that your shirt had ripped and your skin became bruised with his fingertips.

and now he's here in front of you, half conscious. you look at him, panting softly and bleeding out onto the floor. despite the pain he must be in, he's still staring at you.

"get away from her," he had growled to the onslaught of snapping teeth. "she's mine."

you had watched the wolf lunge onto him, sinking its teeth into his skin. in the scuffle, he had lost his grip on his rifle. you picked it up, the metal cold in your hands, before training its sight at the writhing struggle between beast and man.

in that moment, you could have ended it all. but before you could pull the trigger, you heard a sudden snap of bone. the great wolf went limp, its last breath a pained whine. with a huff, eden pushed its body off of him and took you by the collar.

"you had your chance," he said, voice hollow. "but i won't die that easily."

right now, you could get up. he could watch you leave. in his current state, it would be impossible for him to follow you.

a part of you wants to hate him, but there's something in the way he looks at you - like he's afraid, ashamed even - that makes you get on your knees and crawl to him.

"what...?" he manages.

"don't make me regret this," you say before tearing off a piece of your shirt and pressing it to the wound.

he does not cry out. blood, warm and red, wets your fingers but you do not stop. you feel his hand wrap around your wrist and for a second, you think he's going to snap it just like he did with the wolf's neck, but he just keeps it there. his palm is rough with calluses, his knuckles silvery with scars. you keep the pressure steady all while he watches you silently.

once the bleeding has stopped, you wipe your hands on your shorts and go to the kitchen to retrieve a jar of poultice and a jug of water. on the first night you spent in the cabin, you remember that he had applied some of it to cuts you sustained during your time in the forest. they had healed quickly after that.

gingerly, you unbutton his shirt to expose the wound. seeing him bare isn't anything new to you, but this was different.

"an hour ago, you wanted to kill me," he says. it's a statement, but also a question. you don't give him an answer.

his chest is sticky with drying blood, but you manage to peel away most of his shirt from the gash. he winces as you do this, grunting softly under his breath.

at the orphanage, you would bandage the little ones whenever they came crying to you with cuts and bruises. one time, robin had slipped into your room, tears in his eyes, as he held up an arm marred by a deep cut from biking too fast down a hill.

all of them had hissed in pain from your ministrations while trying to heal their affliction, but not eden. he was silent, giving you nothing else more than breathy huffs.

you wash the wound with water, watching as dirt and debris flow away. once it's clean, you apply the poultice, tearing off another strip of your shirt to wrap it around the torn flesh.

there is no fear you sense from him, no anxiety at this angry wound - only a weary resignation. it's an exhaustion that you can't help but find familiar.

--

eden was not afraid of death, but he had a hard time trying to figure out why he was still alive.

hours later, as the dawn light filtered through the window, he felt rather than saw your attempt at giving him first-aid.

it was shoddy work, but satisfactory: the result of the exhausted desperation he saw in your eyes as you worked to patch him up for reasons he could not understand.

but why?

at this point, the pain had significantly lessened due to the poultice and he could finally gather his thoughts. eden expected that your kindness would end at the last knot tied for his dressing. if there had been any moment you could have chosen to fled, last night would have been perfect.

instead, he was surprised to see your sleeping form curled up in front of the fireplace. something like relief made him relax at the sight of you, dirty but uninjured. but there. still there.

--

"you didn't leave," he says, his eyes still closed.

you blow into the wooden cup, sending curls of steam into the air. it's a simple broth you made with mushrooms from the barrel, herbs from the garden, and leftover rabbit bones and gristle leftover from a previous meal - nothing special, but nourishing enough.

"open your mouth," you instruct, bringing a spoonful of the hot soup to his lips.

earlier, you had somehow managed to prop him up with some cushions without disturbing himself and his injury. it had been a challenge - the man was so huge - but whatever was in the poultice must have kept him asleep.

he opens his mouth and lets you feed him, groaning in satisfaction as he swallows. a lock of his hair falls over his face, so you push it away and let your hand rest on his jaw to ready him for another serving. the pad of your thumb presses against a slash of soft scar tissue.

"are you okay?" you ask when his breath hitches.

eden's eyes open. they bore into you, wary. you can feel them shift from your face to your bare skin. the events of last night had ruined your shirt, so you were only in a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

"i'm fine." he licks his lips. his gaze falls on the old scar sliced across your neck, a memento from bailey. it's something the hunter would stare at often whenever he would take you. "just give me more."

hours later, you're still not sure why you're keeping him alive. perhaps you felt sorry for him, a man all alone in the wilderness. perhaps it was because if you left, there was hardly any life for you to go back to. at this point, you were definitely behind on your weekly payments, and bailey would not let that slide without making sure you would regret it.

you dip the wash cloth into the warm water, wringing it before gently wiping the hunter's face. blood and grime disappear to reveal scattered scars, a mole, and tawny skin made golden by hours in the sun.

in the weeks you had been held captive by this man, you had never seen his face this close. his features are strong - a sharp jaw, a nose that looks like it had been broken once, and cheeks framed by long locks of dark hair.

despite all the reasons he's given you not to think so, you find him beautiful.

you don't want to admit it, so you tell yourself that the heat that spreads across your face is not from seeing the strong, corded muscles of his bare chest, but the fatigue earned from another day of caring for him.

that was it. that was all.

--

when he comes to, eden sees an angel. her skin is sweet, warm. her touch is gentle, a perfect palm pressed against his forehead. she is beautiful, ethereal. a blessing.

she is everything he has never deserved.

when she opens her mouth, soft lips like fresh petals in the spring, she says, "eden, you're burning up."

the sound of his name is nothing short of salvation.

"fuck!" she says, voice drifting off into the distance. "fuck fuck fuck!"

something like glass presses against his mouth. he turns away.

"why aren't you swallowing it?" she curses. the next thing he sees is her tipping a small amber bottle to her face.

then: warmth. soft petals press against his lips and he gasps at the closeness, at her scent encompassing all of his senses. a tongue probes at his teeth and he opens himself to receive her offering.

sweet liquid fills his mouth: valerian, oregano, echinacea, honey. the taste is similar to the antibiotic tincture he keeps in his pantry.

he takes his good arm and steadies her against his body, pulling her deeper into the kiss. she makes a sound like she's surprised and he feels her hands cup his jaw. he does not deserve any of it, but he wants more. he wants all of her.

"eden," she breathes, pulling away. the angel wipes her wet mouth with the back of her hand, scarlet coloring her cheeks. she rolls off of him.

the absence of her warmth is agony, but before he can call for her, sleep takes him once again.

--

the next morning, you're on top of eden with the flint arrowhead pressed against his neck.

you do not think about the kiss. you do not think about the way he held you as you forced the medicine into his mouth.

in fact, you could end this. right now, you could take the cabin for yourself. there are enough provisions to last you until you find a way to figure out how to live here. all you have to do is -

"do it," he says, eyes clear and watching you. they look like storm clouds. like morning fog. like the water of the crystal lake where he found you.

you pause, hesitant.

for the first time since he brought you here, his eyes soften.

"someone did that to you, didn't they?" he asks, voice thick with fatigue. "they hurt you."

somehow, you know he's talking about the scar on your neck. you remember bailey pinning you to the wall, his pocketknife carving your skin after you bit him for daring to lay his hands on robin.

"i know what that's like," he says, averting his gaze. there's a note of shame in his voice. "to feel helpless."

you see the silvery scar along his jaw.

and then you break. because in the end, you are both just two animals with the same wounds.

you toss the arrowhead away and it clatters on the wooden floor. then you replace your hands at his neck with your mouth against his.

there's a moment of hesitation before he kisses you back, hungry and desperate.

"more," he growls, and you obey by pulling your bra off over your head.

you lean over him and he takes your breast into his mouth, lapping slowly at the soft bud of your nipple with his warm tongue. you mewl, tightening your thighs around his torso.

when he sinks his teeth into your skin, you gasp, taking his hair into your fist. it's going to bruise, but you don't mind.

"more," he says again, licking between your breasts. you feel his fingers tug at the waistband of your shorts and after a moment of shuffling, you oblige.

he grips your thighs as he lowers you down to his face, his breath hot against your wet slit.

moments after he brings his tongue to your clit, you come shaking and whimpering.

although he's fucked you more times than you can count, this is different.

before, he would never take your pleasure into account and would ram into you until he was satisfied. even then, it would not be enough for his appetite. he'd pull you to him for more, no matter how sore or hurt you were.

but now, he's licking small circles in this part of you that aches for his touch, pulling you deeper into him as you shudder. it's exhilarating. you can't get enough of it.

"eden," you breathe, your voice trembling from coming undone once again.

"mm?" he pulls away. his eyes are hazy with lust - storm clouds rolling through the sky, rumbling with thunder.

"i want you inside of me," you tell him, ready for the lightning.

gently, he guides you onto your back. the floor is still warm from his body, the cushions you placed a few days ago soft against the back of your head.

he sheds his shirt, careful not to undo the dressing. you help him unbutton his pants. there's a scar on his hip and you think about biting it.

"are you sure you'll be okay?" you ask, worried that the wound would reopen. "i don't want you to get hurt."

"i'll be fine," he says, trailing kisses along your neck. "as long as you're here to take care of me."

there's a gentleness to his voice, an implied question. you're tempted to say yes, but you're not yet quite sure.

eden presses into you, his length brushing against your clit. you grip his arms, his muscles tight under your fingers, as you moan.

"let me hear them," he breathes. his voice is soft, tender - this is not the roughness of the man who became your captor. "you were always so quiet before."

eden groans, thrusting himself into you with one long slide. his dark hair cascades over you as he lowers his body to meet yours.

"take me," you say, biting your lip at the sheer pleasure curling hot within your core. you buck your hips towards him, meeting him at the hilt. "all of me."

it's his turn to gasp. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours as he rocks his hips into you.

you kiss the scar on his jaw, tangle your fingers in his hair. the scent of him is earthy, like the forest. you wouldn't mind getting lost in him.

eden huffs, pleasure building within the both of you. you're holding him like that when you begin to come, his name whispered between your lips.

it's not long after that he climaxes, too, burrowing his face into your neck once the shaking stops.

there are a few moments of silence. you hear nothing else but the wind howling outside.

"don't run," he says. so quiet, just barely louder than the crackling of the fireplace.

your bodies are warm and sweat-slicked, glistening with the glow of your embrace.

"i'll protect you." his lips trace the scar on your neck. "i'll provide for you." his mouth brushes yours. "all you have to do is stay." when he lifts his face, you see his eyes shining in the firelight. he's desperate, and you get the sense that he will not ask again.

you think of the life you had before you were taken - the beatings, the stealing, the lying you had to do in order to survive. was it really worth going back to? could you hope to build a new future, one warm with firelight?

your hand finds his. his fingers are strong, callused, but they're gentle. they could be yours, if you want it.

to your surprise, a blush colors your hunter's cheeks. in this moment of tenderness, you find your answer.

"i'll stay," you tell him, like it's a promise. like it's a vow.

[toournextadventure]

If you're able to do a story based on Katy Perry's The One That Got Away where the reader is immortal or a vampire and they were connected with Goody Addams (basically had a relationship or smthng with her idk her age) but moments before she was burned to death they had a "In another life I'll look for you" type of moment and R cant do anything because they were tied and held back forcing to watch Goody die the way she did. Then to the present, R finds Wednesday amidst the crowd and they just push through the crow to get to Wednesday hugged her while Wednesday has a vision of the R and Goody's past and they have this "I found you" , "You found me" moment. THANK YOU

I am OBSESSED with this premise, you're a GENIUS

i found you

“Goody, no!”

Your eyes flew open as the dark room enveloped you. The air was cold and the sound of the fan mixed with the rain outside to form the perfect sleeping conditions. It truly was a shame you had been awakened by yet another nightmare.

No, not another one. The same one.

Slowly, you sat up and rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes. It seemed it was going to be another early day, just like yesterday. And the day before, and the day before that. Gods, you just couldn’t manage to get Goody’s burning face out of your mind. Hundreds of years had passed and you still couldn’t force yourself to forget.

A familiar burning sensation seared down your throat once your body had finally woken up enough to comprehend it’s needs. With a sigh, your feet hit the cold ground and you dug your toes into the rug before standing up. The fridge was only a few feet away in your tiny studio apartment, but still too far when it was this early.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you slammed your fridge door closed. Seemed you had run out of blood faster than anticipated. Well, it was a rainy day; you could pick someone out pretty easily and no one would be the wiser.

You sat down on your couch and turned to the first senseless show you could find at such an early hour. Something about restaurants, you didn’t really care to pay attention. Its only purpose was to kill time until you could reasonably walk around outside without drawing too much attention.

But the wait was torture. As the show droned on in the background, your mind drifted back to that day. To that day all those years ago where you were forced to watch the most painful thing you had ever witnessed, worse even than your own turning. The memories felt like a vice grip around your unbeating heart, squeezing what little life was left out of the cold muscle.

You wiped the tears away once the clock struck seven. No more use in sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, it was time to hunt. There was no need to try and protect yourself from the rain; you simply grabbed your coat so you could blend in with the rest of the morning crowd.

The smell of rain calmed the nerves that never seemed to truly disappear. It didn’t matter how many times you had actually hunted, a small part of you remained nervous with every outing. Maybe it was the fact that you were taking a part of someone’s life, you weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t going to stop you. If Crackstone could be celebrated for his bigotry, you could live with taking just a bit of life force from a normie.

Call it reparations.

The streets were far more crowded than you had anticipated; a bigger selection, but far riskier. Good, it always added a sense of adventure. You found a nice stoop to hang out in as you watched the crowd walk by, your eyes searching each and every face that passed in an attempt to find your target.

Until your eyes froze on a familiar face, familiar hair, familiar eyes. A face that you would have recognised even in the darkest of nights. One that you hadn’t seen outside of your nightmares in over 200 years. And there she was, walking amongst the common folk as if she had not a care in the world.

You had to get back to her.

Wednesday loved the rain; the sound it made when falling against the umbrella, the smell of it on the concrete, everything about it. So she could be forgiven for deciding to walk that morning instead of having Lurch take her to her final destination. Her umbrella kept her dry and everyone gave her a wide berth.

Even with the space everyone was giving her, Wednesday could still see that someone was parting the crowd like the red sea. There was no chance she was going to move, not for some entitled asshole that was coming directly at her and-

-she felt arms envelope her in a hug so tight she almost couldn’t breathe.

The crowd around her vanished and was replaced by a different crowd, one full of pilgrims. The moon shone down on the screaming and cheering crowd and Wednesday pushed her way through to the center. There Crackstone stood next to a wooden pyre, and someone who looked just like her was tied up; Goody Addams, her mind told her.

Across the clearing was another pyre, one with someone else tied to it. You. You were struggling against the ropes, but the pilgrims around you kept you contained. One of the pilgrims carried a torch over to Goody, prepared to drop it at the bottom of the pyre.

“Look for me,” Goody said, her eyes staring at you and you only. There was an acceptance in her eyes, though it didn’t erase the fear.

“Goody, no!” You screamed once the pilgrim dropped the torch, and the roar of the fire echoed in Wednesday’s ears as she came back to the present.

She pulled back from the arms to see you, looking down at her with tears in your eyes and a pain on your face that Wednesday had seen only once. A look so full of fear and relief and absolute desperation. Your bottom lip quivered as your eyes scoured every inch of her face, her skin, her.

“I found you,” you mumbled, your words barely audible over the sound of the rain and Wednesday’s own heart.

“You found me,” she answered just as quietly, pulling you back into a hug and hearing a heartbeat that sounded familiar.

Sounded like home.

[sailoryooons]

Break | ksj (m)

☾ Pairing: Witch!Seokjin x cursed!reader

☾ Summary: Seokjin has been at your side for the last few years. He’s your closest friend, and the one person you don’t think you can live without. But what happens when you discover that he might be the source of the curse he’s been trying to help you escape from?

☾ Word Count: 18,990

☾ Genre: Supernatural, smut, angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Death and implied accidental murder of a sibling, childhood trauma, creepy vibes, heavy angst, a lot of internal monologue featuring angst, physical and verbal abuse from members of the town toward reader, sometimes confusing mentions of magic systems, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), rough fucking from behind, dom/sub dynamics if you rEALLY squint, subspace/blacking out post sex, unhappy and ambiguous ending!!!!!!

☾ Published: May 22, 2023

☾ A/N: Hi hello this is one of the most random things I’ve ever written. I made a last minute choice to nosedive into this fic at the last second, which was certainly a choice. While it’s not my favorite work because of how hard I struggle to write it, I have a feel people are going to like it regardless and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself about it. Once again, Hali writes way too much for a small project and doesn’t even dip into the lore the way she wanted to! Thank you to @here2bbtstrash who was the amazing beta on this and fixed easily over 200 errors that I made while rush typing this. I handed this over unedited and unread from myself and they put this through the wash to have it in tiptop shape! 

❀ A/N 2: M created their own Little Hut rhyme and I have opted to feature it here for reader’s enjoyment:

Little hut, little hut

Killer dick game

Little hut, little hut

All men is the same

Little hut, little hut,

Murdered your twin

Little hut, little hut

Time to fuck Jin 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | A Spring Offering Collab

Seokjin is good at holding grudges. Even as a child, his mother always said he had a tough time letting things go. He never knew how right she would be. His mother’s words are all he can think about as he storms through the dark of the forest, shadows whispering about him as he looks for the lone hut in the very dark of the woods. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

If his parents could see him now, he knows they would be broken. Tear-streaked and shaking, a lost boy alone in the woods and drowning in anger so hot that the ground scorches beneath his feet. Looking for a salve. Looking for vengeance. 

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

Blood witches are dangerous. Seokjin knows this, everyone knows this. A blood witch is the reason why his parents are dead and he is storming through the darkness in the throes of madness. But Seokjin is only thirteen and full of pain and desperation, vowing to never let something happen like this again. If he has to use a devil to defeat a devil, he will. 

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

A dark stream wends its way through the trees. Seokjin gets a running start and jumps across the whispering waters. When he lands on the other side, he waits. It took a lot of searching to find someone to tell him how to find the witch in the woods. No one comes here, especially not in the dead of night on Beltane. 

They say only evil comes from the little hut in the woods. Seokjin knows now that it isn’t true. Evil comes from anywhere and everywhere, even from the people that one least expects. Evil killed his parents. Evil is why he is alone, crying on the edge of the stream, waiting for the sound of a banshee's call. 

He hears it then. A one-note wail, thin and high-pitched. His blood goes cold and the fight in him nearly goes out at the sound. His heart begins to pound so loud that it’s all he can hear, the thundering beat of panic and terror as he realizes what he’s about to do. 

“Little hut, little hut,” a voice that he cannot see calls to him. There is no hut that Seokjin can see. Only omnipresent darkness, cloying the air in front of him. A tingle skitters over his arms and he becomes acutely aware of another presence there with him in the dark. “I call to thee. Little hut, little hut, come to me.” 

Seokjin blinks rapidly a few times and sees the outline of a hut in front of him. It has a blurry shape like it’s really the idea of a house. It’s so shadowed and opaque that he’s not entirely sure if it’s really there. He walks toward it anyway, one foot in front of the other, looking at the hut. 

If a home could be a phantom, he thinks this is what the hut is. There is a vibrational pull here, a dull buzz in his veins as he gets closer and closer to where the blood witch lives. His stomach turns and his instincts beg him to leave. There is evil in this place. He knows it. Can feel its oily presence like a poisonous slick in his veins. 

A door - or rather what he imagines is a door shape - stands open in the hut. Inside is eternal darkness like Seokjin has never seen before. The buzzing in his veins has become stronger, an itch he can’t scratch. A ringing in his ears. 

Sometimes to beat evil, you must use evil. So Seokjin steps into the house despite all the reasons he should turn around and run. Because he is alone, he is in pain, and he needs some sort of penance. Justice. 

So he asks the blood witch for a favor. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

-

When the rock hits you right at the top of your spine, you know it isn’t an accident. All the same, you spin on your heel and look at the edge of the lake where the kids are skipping stones. They squeal and look away from you, huddled together as they giggle and look over their shoulders with frantic and excited faces. 

You clench your fists and keep going. What can you do to a group of kids? Tossing them into the lake while you’re an adult seems unfair, though it certainly crosses your mind. It isn’t necessarily their fault that they were taught to have such hate in their hearts at a young age, after all. 

So, you keep going, grinding your teeth as you march up the slope toward the main pathway that cuts through the park, gravel crunching beneath your feet as you quicken your strides to put distance between you and the cackling children. You’re not positive they won’t throw another rock at you, and you think that it might send you over the edge.

Early preparation for the Beltane festival is in full swing all over the park. There are trucks unloading carts and piecing together stalls, vendors and contractors with clipboards walking through spray painted grass with city officials, and a giant maypole waiting to be constructed. 

Living in a town of witchy folk can be fun, you suppose. The only downside is that most of the witches in your town despise you and think you’re an abhorrent blight to the earth. If killing and sacrifices hadn’t been outdated and frowned upon, you’re sure they would have stuck you to an altar as a child the first time you showed signs of being a leech. 

Leech. 

It’s an unkind thing to call witches who siphon magic. It isn’t something you can control - it isn’t even something you were born with. Most witches who siphon magic are born that way. A sort of magical defect in the way they interact naturally with the world. 

Most think of siphoners as a plague to the witch community. Thieves and monsters who can only feed on magic to make magic, a perversion of the natural balance of things. The way you look at it, witches who siphoned aren’t really any different from the natural order of the world. All living things need an energy source: food for animals, sun for plants, bacteria for amoebas. It isn’t different, really. 

Perhaps you would not be so kind to leeches, though, had you not began your existence as a siphoner at thirteen years old. 

It isn’t a night that you enjoy remembering, but it is certainly a night you can’t seem to forget. One moment you could command your magic like most other witches. Most, because you were a blood witch with raw talent and a powerful relationship with the earth’s energy. 

Blood witches were as revered as they were feared, witches who needed no spells. Who could use the magic within them instead of their connection with the earth to conjure. To blood witches, all other witches were leeches, really. You didn’t tell that to your coven, though you thought about the irony often. 

Your blood magic had vanished, though. It happened while you lay asleep in your bed, pressed up against your twin sister. Twins were a special thing in covens, a rarity in the magical order of the world that was seen as a good omen. There was a connection you shared with her deeper than the connection to your own magic, a bond that rooted the two of you together. That made you seek one another out for comfort. 

It had been storming that night and you had sought out the warmth of her bed and the vanilla sugar of her hair to soothe your nerves. You didn’t like storms and thunder very much, but she was wide awake in her bed, watching out the window as purple lighting cracked across the sky and thunder shook the house. 

You’d slipped into her bed without a word and she stood guardian over you, hand tucked in yours as she watched the sky light up. You remember her laying down next to you after the storm passed. The warmth of her breath on your cheek as she fell asleep. The hum between the two of you, soul recognizing soul.

She’d been dead by morning, magic siphoned and drained dry in the middle of the night. 

The memory of it is metallic in your mouth. You head toward your apartment, hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans, head down. Beltane always makes you think of your sister. Makes you think of the morning you woke up on your thirteenth Beltane to find her cold and dead, magical signature gone. Severed. Torn away from you. 

Losing your ability to generate magic was only second to losing your sister. You still feel adrift fifteen years later. Moving through the world with a piece of you missing. Two pieces of you, if you count the fact that you can feel the magic around you but not reach for it. You never reach for it, though you suspect that no one believes you.

Except maybe Seokjin. But even he doesn’t know the story of how you became what you are. All he knows is that you can’t create your own magic, and yet he’s never shamed you for it. Never turned his back on you, or berated you or bullied you. 

That sort of kindness is a rarity in your world.

Your small northeastern town is easy to navigate. There’s not much that happens that doesn’t immediately become the knowledge of all citizens, and there’s not really a way to get lost unless you’re a tourist coming to visit the country's spookiest and most magical town. The locals are pretty firm believers in magic, but the out of towners don’t really believe. They just want camp and kitsch. 

It’s busy season, the streets filled with people buying decorations to celebrate Beltane, restaurants full of tourists trying out local fare between going shop to shop. The festivals always draw a big crowd to your corner of the world, making it easier for you to blend in with all the rest of them. It almost makes you feel normal when someone doesn’t recognize you and immediately scowl. Sometimes you can even get away with eating at places that wouldn’t normally serve you, the workers too busy to really look at your face and see you. 

A few people have taken pity on you outside of Seokjin. Namjoon and Jimin would never turn you away, always welcoming you with open arms, a warm cup of tea and free books for as long as you like at their bookstore. You’re not technically allowed in the metaphysical store on Fourth, but as long as Yoongi is working, you can walk through the rows and rows of crystals, grimoires, spices and charms. Seokjin is where you’re really home, though, his bakery a place of safety and fresh-smelling sugar cookies. 

It’s where you go now, sticking to the shop windows and away from the tourists flowing all over Main Street like ants. There’s a line stretched out the door when you get to Magical Moon Bakery, and Jungkook looks helpless behind the counter as he nods while taking an order, wide-eyed and terrified. 

Seokjin is at the delivery counter, flour staining his cheek and brow as he nods politely and hands a box of cupcakes over to his customer. As though he can sense you, he lifts his head and swivels, eyes scanning until they land on you, immediately shining. Your stomach leaps the way it often does around him, especially when he breaks out into a beautiful smile and jerks his thumb at an apron.

You roll your eyes. You’re not technically an employee at the bakery, but you help often enough that you tease Seokjin sometimes that he should start paying you. You never mean it, of course. Your reward is his unearned and unlikely friendship, and the fact that his friends have taken you in even when other covens have turned their backs on you. 

Perhaps if he’d grown up here he’d hate you. It’s a thought you have often, even when you’re pulling the loop of a lavender apron over your head and tying it around your waist. You can’t imagine Seokjin ever hating you for no reason, but sometimes you wonder if he had the influence of the other kids of your town if it would be different. 

“Can you take over the order counter?” he asks, the blush on his face the only sign that he’s getting a little frazzled. You nod and he winks at you, leaning over to press a quick, chaste kiss on your cheek. “Worldwide best friend.”

“Mhmm,” is the only response you manage to string together, flustered by his proximity. 

It’s no secret that Seokjin is one of the best looking men in town. Even among witches, who are unnaturally beautiful to begin with, he stands out. Dark, silky hair swept back off of his forehead, dark eyes with a spark of caramel right around the pupil, lips full and lush like Aphrodite, and a face molded from the finest clay, glazed and perfected. 

Loving him isn’t hard. He’s as kind as he is beautiful, and Seokjin is silly. Able to make you laugh and draw you out of the melancholy that is permanently affixed on your person. It’s been that way since you met in your early twenties right after he moved to town, and you’re grateful for it. 

Even if loving him is pointless. He can never be yours - would never want to be yours in that way, anyway. 

So you settle for less. Settling for crumbs is what you’re good at. What people think you deserve, being the little leech that you are. 

No one you’re serving at the bakery knows you’re a leech, though. All they know is that they are eager to try the best baked goods in town, wondering at the menu as each item has a list of things it’s good for. Rose scones to make someone fall in love, marshmallow fluff cupcakes to soften the blow of bad news, gumdrop cakes to summon rain. 

Everything on the menu has a charm to it, both literally and figuratively. Seokjin is wildly creative in his carefully crafted menu, and he imbues magic in everything he makes from the eggs to the whipped frosting. 

Being here is nice. Jungkook grins when he sees you behind the counter, happy for the help. He still gets overwhelmed behind the till, and he’s more than happy to step back and chew his lip nervously when he processes a discount wrong. You’re up next to him before he can ask for help, typing on the screen while gently walking him through it again.

Jungkook is a good kid, an elemental witch who is prone to cause rainstorms when he gets stressed. For now, he is a bottle of sunshine, thanking you shyly and letting you know that he saved you a bag of butterscotch cookies in the back. 

“I put in a little extra sunshine,” he promises. By that, you know that he means magic. To give you. You open your mouth to scold him but he shakes his head furiously, long, wavy locks shaking. “I wanted to do it. Please don’t yell at me.”

That gets you. It’s hard to be mad at him, especially when anger is likely to set him off into a rainstorm. Jungkook’s round eyes are pleading and he pouts, a tactic you know he has learned from his boyfriend to use as a weapon. You think about sending Taehyung some choice text messages but instead, thank Jungkook for the cookies and continue to help him.

This is what keeps you going most days. The unfettered kindness that Seokjin and his friends show you. None of them are locals to town, but they had formed their own coven a little at a time, a circle under the broad umbrella of the town's overall witch population.

Covens are difficult. You’re both in and not in Seokjin’s coven, an unofficial member by friendship. But you don’t practice anymore - won’t let yourself - so you’re on the outside looking in most weekends and during spiritual times of the year. 

But by witch standard, you are a part of the covenstead of the town, the larger collective of witches who are loyal and responsible for one another, all answering to the high priestess. Who has begrudgingly let you stay as a member of the covenstead for the sheer fact that you’re her niece and nothing more. 

When the rush of customers and crinkling to-go bags slows, you lean against the counter and reach a hand out just as the door to the back swings open. Seokjin has a glass bottle of soda ready for you, and he blinks  in surprise when he sees your hand ready for it. You’re a little surprised as well. Though you have no magic on your own, you still sometimes predict things before they happen. Or at least, your instincts do.

“It’s freaky when the two of you do that,” Jungkook comments, eyes bouncing between you and Seokjin as the older hands you the bottle. “You’re always so in-tune.”

“She’s a witch,” Seokjin snorts, leaning against the glass case of mostly empty dishes as he takes a swig of his own. “Divination and all that is sort of what we do.” 

“Yeah, but it only happens with you.”

You don’t meet Seokjin’s eyes as you swig from the bottle, the carbonation fizzing on your tongue. “I can’t help it that I inspire magical abilities,” is Seokjin’s answer. Always deflecting. You're grateful for the way he rolls with the punches, easily accepting the way others talk about you two as an item so you don’t have to. “Plus, even witch-adjacents have the ability of foresight.” 

What he doesn’t say is that even in your dishonored position as a siphoner, you can get sensations and feelings. While you can sense magic and you’re still in tune with the world around you, Jungkook is right: you only have this sense of knowing with Seokjin, like there is a tiny string of fate connecting the two of you.

When it’s time to close down the shop, you help the two of them out. Seokjin goes to the back to begin batching things anew: fondant, bread, frosting - anything that he can let sit overnight or prep while the lights are out and he’s gone home. You focus on cleaning with Jungkook, letting him put on a pop playlist while he sings along, siren voice lulling you into a steady rhythm. 

Part of you wants to ask what they’re doing for Beltane. Celebrating the holidays use to be your favorite, threading flowers through your hair, blessing your hearth and home, weaving new spells of prosperity and happiness alongside your sister. Now you don’t participate in any of the rituals with the others. 

Most of the time, you celebrate alone in your room. Mark the points of the elements and the compass on your bedroom floor alone. Sit in front of a single candle, watching the flame flicker as you draw your circle of salt, murmuring blessings. It isn’t a powerful place of practice and you have no alter to command, but it's something. It’s yours. 

Instead of asking, you follow Seokjin and Jungkook out of the door on the promise of dinner. It is the one thing that does feel like a ritual you’re allowed to participate in, holding chapel at Seokjin’s dining room table and elbowing with Jimin and Taheyung to reach for the food piled high. 

Evening sky stretches overhead as you walk between Seokjin and Jungkook. You cast your eyes upward, watching the gray clouds float by. Seokjin throws an arm around you, pulling you in close and squeezing you to his side. He smells like vanilla and sweet orange from making his tangerina vanilla cakes for Yoongi. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash through you like a balm. 

His arm presses a little too hard on the bruise where the rock from earlier nailed you, and you hiss, reaching behind your head automatically to adjust his hold on you. 

“What?” he asks, lifting his arm and slowing his gait. Seokjin’s face is picture-perfect concern, mouth tilted downward, a crease in his brows. Before you can explain, his hands are pulling at the collar of your shirt. “You’ve got a welt here, what the hell is that?”

You smack at his hands and step away from him, pulling his warm fingers from your shirt. “It’s nothing.”

“Whenever you say ‘it’s nothing’ it's always something. Why do you have a lump on the top of your spine?”

Dancing away from him, you grab Jungkook who grunts, mouth full of corn chips as you shove him between you and Seokjin. More unhappy noises come from the youngest as Seokjin grabs for you but you squeak and use Jungkook’s broad body to block him again. 

“Yah!” Seokjin yells, reaching both arms around either side of Jungkook to grab you. He manages to get one of your arms, pulling you toward him - and by default, Jungkook - and keeps a firm grip while you swat and fight back. 

“Nooo!” Jungkook howls between the two of you, adding to the chaos as he shoves both of you away from him. “Stop using me as a battering ram! I’m going to drop my chips! Guys!” 

“Tell me why you have a wound!”

“It isn’t a wound!”

“It’s a type of wound!”

“Ugh let my arm go, hulk!”

“Stop hissing at me like a rat!”

Jungkook drops his bag of chips and lets out a long, forlorn wail. “My chiiiiiiiiips!” 

After a struggle, you manage to shake Seokjin off of you, taking a few steps back as you huff angrily, fists at your side. Seokjin sidesteps Jungkook who is pouting and looking at the ground, wavy bangs falling in his eyes as he stares at the spilled corn chips. Seokjin makes it worse by stepping on them, earning a shriek from Jungkook that goes ignored.

“Did someone hurt you?”

A rumble rolls through the sky from up above. You cast your gaze upward, looking at the clouds that are a little more swollen than they were a few minutes ago. You can sense the static in the air, a promise of lightning if you don’t diffuse Seokjin’s anger quickly. 

Similar to Jungkook, Seokjin is sensitive to the elements. Where Jungkook has an affinity for the sky and the rain, Seokjin has a lot more skill with fire. Still, Seokjin is a powerful witch and his rage on more than one occasion has disturbed the sky and the lake in the middle of town. 

It’s partly the reason he works so hard on never getting angry. 

“It’s nothing, Jin,” you answer softly, eyes pleading. You desperately want him to drop it. Part of you is honored that he cares, but the other half of you can’t bear the way he looks at you. “Please drop it.”

“Someone hurt you. Again.”

Thunder echoes across the sky. Jungkook looks upward. “That isn’t me, even though I am mad about my chips.”

“Jin, it isn’t a big deal. Please.” You glance upward, thunder rolling again. “You’re going to make it rain.”

“I’ll make it do more than that when I find out who did it.”

“They were just kids, Jin. You can’t-”

He swears loudly and there’s a flash of lightning above your head. It makes you think of that night with your sister, laying in bed to let the storm pass. You clap your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut, automatically crouching to make yourself small. 

Behind your shut eyes, you try not to let the memories come. Try not to imagine the vanilla scent of her hair, warm hands on your skin turned cold the next morning. You block out the screams, the way your mother shoved you away and your father yelled and yelled and yelled.

Above, the thunder stops. The rain doesn’t fall, and the air pressure returns to normal. Shivering, you crack an eye open to look at Seokjin, terrified at what you might find. His anger is so rare but flips on a dime, catching you off guard any time it happens. 

Jungkook is murmuring in Seokjin’s ear now, voice hushed and urgent. Seokjin’s eyes become unfocused as he nods, Jungkook’s hands grasping the older’s biceps firmly. When Seokjn’s eyes find yours over Jungkook’s shoulder, they’re fathomless. Endless pools of black and something else that you can’t decipher as he murmurs something back to Jungkook, who steps away.

Licking his lips, Seokjin offers you a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.” 

You swallow thickly. Reach out a tentative hand. “It’s okay.”

“You know I would never hurt you?”

Of course you know that. You aren’t afraid of Seokjin or the power he holds. You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You are afraid of the memories that nip at your heels like a pack of jackals, waiting for you to grow weak and fall before they attack. You are afraid of the way that it makes you feel when he cares about you. 

“I know that,” you murmur, letting him pull you to your feet. “It’s just the thunder, that's all.”

His smile is soft. “I know, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand. It’s a perfect fit, your palm in his. His skin buzzes with magic and you’re careful not to take any, always keeping your guard up so that you can never siphon again. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

-

Home isn’t the small apartment on the west side of town that you keep by yourself. Home is Seokjin’s two-story house in the suburbs made of brick and mortar. It’s the crowded dining room with eight chairs pulled close to the wooden table and a chandelier full of burner candles and incense. It’s Seokjion’s cat familiar running yowling down the corridor as Yoongi’s maine coon chases it, hissing. 

Home is seven witches who don’t care that you can’t generate your own magic, all of them laughing and pushing empty plates toward the middle of the table where Namjoon collects them with a snap of his fingers, the cutlery lifting and stacking neatly with the soft click of ceramic. 

Bloated and overly satiated, you lean back in your chair, sighing heavily. Yoongi is next to you, quiet and staring off into space the way that he often does. Next to him, Jimin and Namjoon have their heads bowed together whispering, a blush flushing across Namjoon’s wine-glazed expression and tops of his ears. 

Namjoon and Jimin strike something in you. A longing that tugs at your heart strings, drawing your gaze to the man sitting on the other side of you. Seokjin is leaning back in his chair, arm stretched over the back of your seat as he yawns mid-conversation with Hoseok. 

Seokjin is barely touching you, but just the warmth of his arm is enough to make you dizzy. It’s barely there, just against the top of your back. You lean into him a little, resting your head on top of his arm. He maneuvers his hand to scratch the top of your head lightly. It feels so nice that your eyes flutter shut, letting him play with your hair as the noise in the room drifts to a dull buzz. 

In another life, you think that this touch could be something more. Sometimes, you let yourself wonder if it is. Let yourself pretend that maybe Seokjin’s lingering gaze and lingering hand is more than the platonic affection he has for you. 

It’s a silly dream. 

When the dishes are washed and the others have said their goodbyes, it’s just you and Seokjin leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He has a glass of wine, sipping it thoughtfully as you put the cork back in the wine bottle. When you meet his gaze, you see something there. Hesitance. Anxiety. 

Seokjin chews on his lips and swishes the wine in his glass. The red arches elegantly along the sides of the glass, slowly dripping back down to pool in his cup. You remember once at a winery you could measure the legs or something when swishing wine in a glass to learn some small factoid about the wine, but it’s far from your memory now.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, taking a sip of your own. It’s a strong mulled wine with notes of cherry, you think. “You look nervous.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Your heart beats hard once. Then twice. Speeds up. Instead of answering right away, you take a sip of your wine, mind running through all of the things you think he might say. Maybe this is it, he’s going to tell you that you can’t come around as much. That though you’re his best friend, you have to stay away from his coven. 

Instead, Seokjin says, “You know I’ve looked into your situation.” You wince when he says it but he pushes forward, leaning off the counter as he grows eager. “You said you weren’t always a siphon, that you could control your own magic as a child. I’ve been researching similar cases, and there is a lot of evidence that supports that it might be a magical block.”

“Jin.”

“Look, I’m happy with the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you. But I know that you aren’t happy with it.” His jaw flexes. “And I care about your happiness. I just… Yoongi and I have been reading up on rituals to release magical blocks, and with Beltane in a few days, we thought…”

Warmth bubbles in your chest. You know how much this means to him, trying to help you. To free you from the burden that you carry with you wherever you go. This is not the first time he has brought up trying to figure out your ailment. Your situation. And though you’re glad he cares about you enough to try, there is something humiliating about it. 

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Seokjin murmurs. You look up at him and his gaze is soft. Vulnerable. “But if you want us to try, we discussed it. And our circle is strong enough to try it on Beltane.”

Licking your lips, you nod once. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking of you.” You give him a look and he smiles, a little sad. “What? I am.” 

“Stop trying to be charming. I’ll only say yes if I want to.”

“I have no doubt about that. However, it is impossible for me to stop my charm. It is a natural gift.”

You roll your eyes. “Along with your insufferable humor.”

“There is nothing insufferable about me. Especially with Yoongi around.” 

You don’t push the argument. Seokjin grins again before opening a drawer in his kitchen, pulling out a small, cloth bag. There’s a green ribbon tying the top of it shut, and you smell the herbs inside of it immediately: cedar, bay leaves, mugwort. 

Seokjin holds the bag out to you and you frown, taking it. It’s weighted with crystals. You squeeze the bag a little, feeling the crunch of crystal fragments and herbs. There is a vibration that travels from your fingers up your arms and you feel a sense of solid warmth.

“A protection bag,” you deadpan. “Really?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t need this.”

“The welt on your neck says otherwise.”

“Please stop!” Your voice is loud in the empty kitchen. He pulls up short, leaning against the counter and watching you with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. You sigh deeply and close your eyes for a moment, calming yourself before you open them and say, “I don’t mean to yell, it’s just - it’s hard when I feel like all of you coddle me. It’s humiliating.” 

“It wasn’t my intention. I’d never want to make you feel that way.”

“I know.”

You do know. The intentions are good, but you can’t help the raw, venomous edge of frustration. It makes you feel less than, this constant need to help you. To do things for you. 

“I don’t want to be a problem that everyone feels like they need to solve. There’s more to me than being the covenstead’s leech.”

“You know that isn’t how we think of you.”

You give a frustrated noise. “Then please. Let me ask for help when I need it.” 

Seokjin is quick to catch the protection bag when you toss it back to him. He nods silently, eyes fixated on the floor. It feels like a hot stone has been dropped in your stomach, burning and weighing you down. How quickly a good dinner has turned sour, how the light air between the two of you has gone cold. 

“Thank you for dinner. And for looking into a way out of this,” you gesture wildly to yourself. He nods, but there’s no mirth in his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course. Let me know about… you know.” 

“Yeah. Yeah.”

That night, you have trouble sleeping, just like that night when you were thirteen years old. 

-

The back door to Shadow Metaphysical opens, creaking as Yoongi sticks his head out. His long hair is styled behind his ears and he’s in a soft-looking black sweater and jeans. He smiles when he sees you, gentle and kind as he opens the door a little wider, beckoning with his head to enter. 

Slipping through the back door, you enter a dark office. It’s only lit by candles spread over various shelves and desks, and a few hovering candles near the ceiling. It’s warm and cozy, and you spot Yoongi’s familiar napping on the chair pulled up to the desk where a computer shows some sort of accounting system. 

Yoongi leads you to the front of the store. It’s closed for the evening and he has receipts and cash laid out on the counter as he balances his drawer for the day. The shop has tall ceilings and is lined with rows and rows of dark shelving. The lighting here is not powered by candles or magic, but rather golden cafe lighting strung on the ceiling.

Shadow Metaphysical is one of your favorite places. It smells different each time you go in, the magic and the herbs and the spells inside of its four walls shifting with the energy of its employees and customers at all times. Today, it smells like night rain and crackling lightning. 

Wordlessly, Yoongi gestures at the shelving, signaling to do whatever you need. He busies himself with going back to counting bills, head down and trusting you not to steal anything. Not that he would care, as he’s always emphasized he has no problem not taking your money.

Still, you always pay him, especially since he lets you in after hours where no one can yell at you for being inside. The covenstead has barred magical stores from siphoners, convinced that they would cross the threshold and drain the shops of magic. 

It isn’t true, though you can feel the ebb and flow of open magic sources around you. You’re not here for magical purposes, specifically. There are things you can buy yourself and keep in your apartment to ground you to the earth, and there are still rituals and practices that you keep up with, even as your connection is severed.

As you pass rows and rows of books on rituals, you think about Seokjin’s offer to help you figure out your block. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried and failed to figure out what happened. With magic, the point of origin is always the key to any spell. The how and the where of your condition are important elements to figuring out the solution, but no one really knows the how and the where. 

Your friends don’t have full clarity on that night. You’ve never told them in explicit detail of how you woke up, full of your sister’s magic. The town calls you a kin killer and a leech, so you’re sure they know enough to know the source of your hesitation is violent and personal. 

Still, you slow as you pass a grimoire. The runes on it shine gold when you pause, winking at you, begging you to touch it. You feel the whisper of the spells of dozens of witches inside of it, their phantom fingers brushing down your arms. Your spine. You shiver and look away from the book, pressing on to the herbs section.

It would be nice not to feel the lure of power. Not to feel the itch and the cunning voices of magic begging you to use them use them use them use them-

“Stop,” you growl out loud. You don’t know who you’re talking to - yourself, the magic in the store, the universe. Taking a deep breath, you gather your wits and complete your shopping, moving with a robotic pace around the store to get what you need.

At the register, Yoongi gives you a wary look as you set things down on the counter. He takes his time scanning them, glancing at you occasionally. You can sense he wants to ask a question, dark eyes lingering a few times. That’s the thing about Yoongi, though. He’ll never ask, he’ll just wait until you give up.

Which you do, sighing and saying, “Ask.”

His lips twitch as he bags a few jars of thorns. “How often do the books in here talk to you?” You level a stare at him and he rolls his eyes. “I can hear you. And every time you’re in here, it’s like they all turn to look at you. Is it often?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Since it happened, there’s always been a pull or like magical objects to taunt me.” You chew your lip and rub your sweaty palms on your jeans. “It’s worse around the sabbat holidays.”

“Stronger magic.”

“Yeah.”

“Did Jin explain what ritual we talked about?” You shake your head. He pushes over a paper bag filled with all your things and you hand over your card. As he swipes it, Yoongi explains. “Two smaller rituals wrapped into one. Namjoon found a really old binding ritual that was used to form a bridge between multiple rituals.”

“So like when you chain spells together,” you offer. “Impressive. I guess that would be used for improving upon old rituals?”

“Yeah, exactly that. Seokjin had been doing some research on magical blocks and shit, and found one that locates a point of origin of the block whether it’s internal or external.” 

“External?” He nods. “Like a curse?”

“Yes. Any reason anyone would want to curse a thirteen-year-old?” 

Yoongi phrases it like a joke and chuckles. But you don’t laugh, stilling as you think about his question. Your immediate answer is no, at thirteen there was certainly nothing you could have done to be cursed. But you think about your parents, thinking about the fear revolving around their gifts for blood magic, think about the way they were always regarded with equal parts fear and reverence as coven leaders.

Curses aren’t common. It would take a coven of extremely skilled witches to curse someone, but it could take a single very skilled blood witch to toss one. Hexes aren’t long-term and are far more manageable, but you think about the way your power vanished, the way you bled your sister dry. 

The misery you’ve faced since, the loss of your parents shortly after, the hatred from the covenstead. 

“Holy shit, you don’t think you’re cursed, do you?” Yoongi’s question brings you out of your daze. All of the amusement has been wiped clean from his expression, eyes deadly serious. “Who would curse a child?”

“People were really afraid of my parents,” you admit. “My mom used to lead the covenstead here, you know?” That surprises him and you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, before my aunt. She isn’t a blood witch. My mom was and led the covenstead until um - my sister died.”

“I never knew that. No one talks about it.”

There is a question there. Yoongi won’t say it outright, but you sense the curiosity nonetheless. You feel your throat constrict a little as you murmur, “She stepped aside when my sister died. It was more political than anything, but no one talks about it out of respect for my aunt.”

“But still, to curse a child?”

“There was…” You think back to the time when you were thirteen. Those days are painted so painfully when you think about them that it is hard to remember anything else. “My parents were involved in the Trials that were going on at that time. Hunting Dissenters.”

Yoongi’s face darkens. “I see.”

“They had a lot of enemies. So maybe… I don’t know.”

For a few moments, Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He busies himself with packing away the rest of the till and waving his hand, dousing all the lights in the store with ease. There’s a little pang as he does it, such simple magic that costs him nothing. That you have no access to.

“Well,” Yoongi sighs, a little awkwardly. “Think about it. If - and it’s unlikely - that someone cursed you, you’ll know if we go through with the ritual.” He pauses and levels you with a look. “It is dangerous though. So consider the risk before you agree, hmm?”

You nod and thank him. He leads you out of the store and gives you an awkward smile goodbye. Never affectionate, but always polite and warm nonetheless. 

Sunset-purple skies stretch above you. It smells like fresh rain and earth outside. Town is quieter now that the evening crowd has finished dinner and gone home or back to their accommodations for the evening. You pass places with patio seating and small diners tucked between stores, wary eyes of the workers following you as you walk down the sidewalk. 

No one says good evening. Some don’t look at you at all. 

Curse. 

The word weighs heavy on you. You’d never considered that your condition could be from a curse before, but now that you think about it, you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind. 

The Trials had been a scary time for witches, Dissenters leaving covensteads to start their own, dark and forbidden spellwork becoming more and more popular among covens. Your parents - especially your mother and her sister - had been a huge part of cleansing the covenstead from witches who practice dark magic.

Especially the few blood witches. 

You had been a blood witch, though. Like your sister, like your mother. People had always been wary of them, which is why your mother worked so hard to get rid of the Dissenters when she was the head priestess. 

They give us a bad name, she would say darkly when you and your sister asked why she was getting rid of witches like you. Like her. In times like this, we have to work extra hard to prove we aren’t evil. 

And then you bled your sister dry. Drained her magic until she couldn’t fight you back and you woke up to that feeling of her cold hands on your overwhelmed skin. Your mother had never really looked at you the same after that, stepping down as the high priestess immediately. 

You suspect she protected you in the only way she could. Disallowing you to use magic of any sort, placing hard restrictions on how you could live, outlawing you from spaces where you had grown up. It was better than death. 

At least, you used to think so. 

Yoongi’s words weigh heavy on you as you sit in your apartment alone. You don’t bother to put the TV on, knowing that you won’t be able to pay attention to anything. Magic always comes at a price, and two rituals wrapped into one is going to take a toll. 

And yet, you think about getting to the bottom of this sickness, this curse. This inability to do anything but steal magic, to leech off of others. You think about how your magic used to feel, the way you could command fire with a snap of your fingers or make stars fall from your bedroom ceiling. 

An ache settles in your chest as you lay back on the couch and close your eyes, throat tight and eyes burning. You have been without magic for so long. Part of you thinks what's a little longer? But deep down, you crave it. The spark, the life, the touch of magic. 

You want to be able to enter stores without the itch underneath your skin, an addiction you can’t cure nor divulge in. You want to be able to be a part of a community again, to do rituals with Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin. You want to be able to help him in his bakery, imbuing his scones and cupcakes with love and a little spark of something extra. 

Tears flow hot on your face. You know what you want, and you know that it’s going to cost you to get it. You know that to do this, you’ll have to be open and honest, because there are only two possible options for your magic block: you are cursed or you have a mental block. 

It’s hard to know if being cursed as a result of your parents’ policing is worse than potentially having an internal block, an innate refusal to do magic because of what you did. 

That night sits at the back of your mind like a stone, sinking sinking sinking. Pulling you under as you think about it in explicit detail. Maybe you simply killed your twin. A horrible accident, but perhaps it was just you. Your magic. Your fault. 

And your magic had fled because of it, a self-inflicted punishment. 

Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you have the phone in your hand, sniffing and wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Your face feels swollen and sticky with tears and overwarm and it’s hard to get a breath as you press the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.

Seokjin picks up on the fourth ring, his voice cheery. “What, did Yoongi forget to let you in the store?”

“No.”

“I’m coming now,” Seokjin says, completely forgoing humor when he hears you sniff, hears the waver in your voice. “Are you home?”

“Yeah.”

“Did anyone hurt you?”

“No,” you hiccup. “I’m just really sad and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Do you want to stay on the phone?” You shake your head and let out a little sob. Something about knowing he’s coming over to be with you cracks your resolve a little more. You realize he can’t see you when he prompts, “Hey, you there?”

“Sorry, no. Drive safely, please.”

“For you? Anything.”

Despite your tears, your mouth wobbles into a weak smile at that. It makes your heart squeeze just a little, underneath all the hurt. 

It doesn’t take him long to let himself in the apartment. You can sense him before he even gets to the stairs leading up to your unit, his crackling energy like a beacon to you. When he opens the door with the key you gave him, he fills the space with static, magic snapping and tinged with worry. 

Magic always belies how Seokjin feels. Like now, as he rushes across the apartment, he is lightning, all energy and anxiety popping and snapping as he sits on the couch next to you, pulling you into his chest. 

Seokjin is warm and smells like vanilla and sweet orange from the bakery. It’s soothing. You close your eyes and clutch the hem of his shirt, resolve cracking the rest of the way as he becomes your anchor as you drift out to sea, holding you so that you can be lost in the overwhelming feeling of loss without getting too far. 

He doesn’t tell you not to cry. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Seokjin leans back on the couch, pulling you into his lap, holding your knees so that he can hold you. One hand rubs your back and he rests his chin on the top of your head, leading you to use the crook of his neck as a place to hide - and turn into a waterfall for your tears. 

This is what you love about Seokjin though. He doesn’t pry. He just lets you use him, lets you cry it out and he waits. 

When the tears begin to dry and you find it easier to breathe again, you shift away from Seokjin and wipe your face. He smiles down at you, eyes glittering and expression so fond that you find yourself staring blankly into his face.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff. “And thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you.” You hate the way it makes your heart flip when he says that. You start to pull away from him to sit on the couch properly but his arms constrict you, keeping you to him. You frown but he asks, “I want to know what happened, if you’re ready to talk about it.”

Seokjin is so close his breath fans your face. You look up at him. Silky, long lashes that you could individually count with your proximity, beautiful tan and smooth skin with a glow all witches have, strong brows that you always thought made Seokjin’s face the perfect balance of boyish and beautiful. 

Your heart starts to speed up and your mouth dries out with the way he looks at you, intense and searching. Suddenly you’re afraid if he looks too hard, he’ll see down to your core. 

“I- yeah. I need some water,” you croak, pulling away. He lets you go this time, unaware that what you really need is space between the two of you, a barrier so he can’t see. So he won’t know. “Turns out sobbing makes you thirsty.” 

Before you can get all the way to the kitchen, there’s a soft clink accompanied by a full glass of water on your counter. You glare at Seokjin over your shoulder and he winces and shrugs in apology. 

As you gulp down mouthfuls of cool water, you wonder how to word exactly what you’re upset about. How you’re tired of existing in the world without your magic but you’re also unsure if you want to know the truth about why your magic left you. 

Seokjin is iffy on the details about the night your sister died. He’s never asked you explicitly for the story before, but if you want to go through with finding out the root cause of your block, you know you’ll be exposed. To him. To all of them. To his coven.

The desire to be one of them is so strong that it makes your knees weak as you walk toward the couch. You sit abruptly on the couch arm, staring into the distance as you drink the rest of the water. You want to join them so much, to celebrate the sabbat holidays, to feel the rush of a closed circle of magic and yet…

Would they accept you if they knew you killed your sister? You’re not so sure. 

You look at Seokjin. He waits patiently, watching you with soft eyes. Moonlight seeps in through the blinds behind him, wreathing him in silver light. He looks like a god, then. Of shadows, of night, of mystery. This best friend of yours who you love so much and who has loved you indiscriminately when he didn’t have to. 

“I talked to Yoongi about maybe doing the ritual,” you start slowly. Seokjin nods, encouraging you. “And I think I came to the conclusion that I want to do it. I’m tired of feeling everyone’s magic pull at me, like a vice that I have to ignore every day. And I’m tired of wanting to do things I used to, to feel the world around me. But most of all, I just want to be a part of something. A part of a coven, a family.”

Understanding paints Seokjin’s face. He reaches a hand out and takes yours, giving you a firm squeeze. “You know even with no magic, you’re our family, right?”

“It’s different.” He starts to protest but you shake your head. “I want to be in a coven and to feel the power of a circle. I want to celebrate and do rituals with you, I want to be a part of something magical. I can’t do that like this, not without the fear of draining everyone.”

He nods. “Of course. We’ll have you either way, you know? We’d still welcome you like this.”

“But I’d never be able to close your circle.” Seokjin nods. He knows the truth of this. “But this ritual requires truth, and there’s some things about me that I’ve never talked to you about. Things about the night I… I could no longer do magic. I want you to be informed, to know what we might find if we do this.”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“A coven and a working circle requires trust and honesty. I can never be one of you if you don’t know me completely.” 

He nods. “That is true.” 

“I’m going to tell you about the night that my sister died.” He squeezes your hand and nods, but says nothing else. “My sister and I were twins, both blood witches. Unusual enough for our parents and the covenstead to be incredibly proud of us, but not unusual enough for people to be afraid, you know?”

“Twins… That’s incredibly powerful.”

“Yeah,” you agree, throat tight. “We were really fond of the connection too, you know? It was nice to always have someone to rely on who was my perfect balance. We were never-” You take a breath. “Neither was more powerful than the other. There was never any jealousy or overpowering the other. We were always evenly matched.” 

“Whenever it would storm,” you continue. “I would go lay in her room. I hated storms but she loved them. I did this countless times up until we were thirteen. I don’t know… Jin, I don’t know what was different that night. I think back to it every single day, what did I do differently, was there an object I touched, a spell I used? And I come up with nothing. But on Beltane when we were thirteen, it was storming. We’d already finished the festival and our parents were out doing their duties and I went and I fell asleep in her room and… and I woke up…”

For a moment, you can’t get the words out. They get trapped in your throat and you stare, unseeing. You imagine the lightning against the window. The warmth of your sister's hands. The tree tap tap tapping against the window with the strength of the wind.

“I drained her in the middle of the night,” you whisper. It’s out now and you can’t stop, can’t look at Seokjin’s face to see his reaction. “I went to sleep as normal and when I woke up, she was freezing and lifeless and I felt more powerful than I ever had before. Like I was this magical battery charged up and sparking.” 

For a moment, you pause and look at Seokjin. You expect to see horror or disgust or a variety of negative emotions, but he’s still watching you. Fond. Waiting. No judgment. When he sees you staring, he gives you a tiny smile and a squeeze of your hand. 

“I’m still listening.” 

“Aren’t you…” You trail off and shake your head. “I killed my sister. Are you not horrified?”

He frowns then. “You didn’t kill your sister.”

“Yes I did.”

“You weren’t born a siphoner, how could you possibly predict that would ever happen? You didn’t get in that bed with her and then leech her magic, no matter how much it must feel that way. It wasn’t your fault, though I know hearing me say that doesn’t make it feel any less true in here.” He reaches forward and taps your heart lightly. “There is nothing I can say to ease the pain and guilt of that, but what you’re describing to me isn’t the tale of a murderer. It’s the story of someone who had a freak accident, which is more common among the magical community than one might think.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you admit, a tear escaping your eye. Before you can wipe it though, Seokjin’s thumb is there, swiping across your face and collecting it. You watch with wide eyes as he cups your face, looking at you with so much something that your head spins. “But in the morning, I was alive and she was dead. And my parents and everyone else hated me for it. That’s why they treat me the way they do. That’s why my mother stepped down as high priestess, why my parents were driven to grief. Why I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone. Not anymore.” 

“How can anyone accept me like this?”

“Because it isn’t what defines you. We are not made up of only the things we do and the things that happen to us, and I promise you, this is something that happened to you.” 

“But why? Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin admits. “But we’re going to find out, okay? 

“What if the others don’t want me?” 

“They would never,” he’s quick to say. He’s still holding your face, wiping tears from your eyes. “And if they did, I don’t care. I’d do the ritual myself, just to prove to you that this burden you carry isn’t your fault.” 

You crack a grin, despite the dark topic. “Yeah? You’d try and do a circle for you?”

“I would walk through fire for you.”

You pull your face out of his hands and shove him a bit. “Fire is your favorite element, Jin. That’s not impressive.”

His laughter fills the room and he tugs at your hands. You grapple with him as he tries to pull you down, your ache forgotten as you laugh and squeal. “Yah! Let me try and be poetic! It was the first thing that I could think of.”

“You’re a witch, you’re practically impervious.” 

Seokjin overpowers you and pulls you down against his chest. Suddenly you’re very close again, your palms pressed against his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat vibrating through your fingers. You make a surprised sound as he looks up at you, gaze a little darker. A little hazy. 

Gently, Seokjin reaches up and brushes his fingers across your chin. It’s featherlight and more intimate than you expect, making you blink in surprise. You’re frozen, limbs stuck and heart racing as you watch the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Suddenly the moment feels different - this feels different. 

“Not impervious to you though.”

When he says it, you don’t answer at first. You think you imagine him saying it. That suddenly this has blurred into a fantasy of yours. Perhaps you’re actually asleep, soothing your pain with dreams of Seokjin. Of being like this with him, pressed closed and intimate with his gaze burning. 

“What?” you whisper back, unable to string together a better response.

He doesn’t seem offended though, huffing a laugh. “Fire might not get to me,” he says. “You certainly did, though.”

“I don’t…”

“We’re practicing honesty because you’re right. If we’re going to lift this block on you and let you join our circle, there can’t be secrets between us. There’s so much to tell you, but I need you to know before we do this how I feel.”

“How you feel?”

“Yes. As the leader of our circle, it’s my duty to be honest with you and to give you an out. I don’t want you to cast our first circle and suddenly be able to see - feel - how I feel and then there’s no way out.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“I’d walk through fire for you - hey, stop laughing at me! Because you are an amazing person. But I would also do it because I have fallen head over heels for you. Chaotically so. Painfully so.” 

This is a dream. It has to be, because there is no way that Seokjin is lying under you, face so close to yours, hands gripping your forearms, and staring at you like that, gaze dreamy, smile on his face. 

“It’s not a dream,” he laughs, making you realize you’ve said it out loud. “Or perhaps it is a dream and I am once again imagining that I am the hero to your tale, a knight saving you because he likes you and you will let me because you like me. But that would be a silly dream, because you have always been the bravest person I know and you have always refused to be saved.” 

“You like me?”

“I do. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back. But I wanted you to know before you step into a circle with us. The others know - can see it light up inside of me every time we cast. But I didn’t want to surprise you with that. Not with this, not when it’s about you. It would have been cruel.”

Seokjin could never be cruel. The word cruel doesn’t even exist in the same plane of existence as this man. This witch who has never done anything but ask if you need help. Who simply enjoys baking things for the community and its visitors, filling every good with magic. A little extra something to make their lives more manageable, more fruitful. 

This man, who would have you even as you are in his coven of witches. Even if a circle couldn’t be drawn and salted correctly. Even if they have no use for you. This friend, who has heard what you’ve done - or didn’t do - and looks at you all the same. Doesn’t see a monster or someone terrible, doesn’t see someone capable of murder. 

The very thought of Seokjin loving you even as you are is enough to send a shiver through you. 

“You know why I thought I was dreaming, right?” you ask him. Seokjin shakes his head, watching your every move. “Because I have dreamed of you saying that often. It was always a comfort to me when I was sad or my longing to have you was intense. I just thought I never could. Wasn’t worthy of it, wasn’t-”

Seokjin moves faster than you can finish your sentence. He surges forward, hands skimming up your arms roughly to cup your face and pull you down to him. He presses his lips firmly to yours and anything you were going to say vanishes, thoughts a wisp of smoke. 

Sparks fly quite literally. Seokjin’s magic crackles and you resist to pull it in and consume it, too distracted by the soft feel of his lips. It’s just an innocent press of mouths at first, making your head spin as you realize you’re kissing Seokjin. 

Then, he pulls away to look at you, face aglow. You’re a little breathless and reeling when you open your eyes to see his grin. 

“You’re worthy of so much more,” he whispers. 

There’s no time to respond as he pulls your lips to his again, this time kissing you properly. He tastes sweet, like one of his meringue treats. The slide of his plush mouth against yours makes you dizzy. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping slightly and you become ravenous. 

Your tongue brushes against his teeth and he makes a throaty sound, opening up to let you deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping against his. He’s a slow kisser, dragging his tongue against yours and letting you fall fall fall into him. 

Seokjin’s hands slide from your face down your shoulders and past them, stopping only at your hips where he squeezes. Your stomach flips at the contact and you twitch a little bit, grinding down into him as his kisses go from languid to a little needier. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, head tilting back. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you ask, mouth going to his jaw. You press wet kisses there, messy lips followed by your tongue, leaving a spit-slick trail. His skin makes your tongue tingle, magic vibrating. 

He slips his hands under the hem of your shirt and digs his blunt nails into your hips. “You know what?”

Grinning, you bring your mouth up to his. Slowly, you lower your hips so you’re pressed flush to his, rolling them again, this time painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat at the slow-drag friction, the feeling of him shivering underneath you.

“That?” you ask, breathless against his mouth. 

“Enough,” he hisses.

The world spins. Seokjin grabs you and in a single, swift movement sits up and stands, carrying you with him. You squeal, hands shooting to grasp at his shoulders as he walks toward your room. He kicks his shin on the coffee table as he stumbles with you, balance off with the added weight.

He curses loudly and you can’t help but laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth when his sharp gaze snaps to yours. His eyes are dark dark, hungry and fathomless now as he raises a brow. “Yeah, you’re laughing?”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” you admit.

“You’re gonna be.”

A wild thrill shoots through you as he carries you to the bedroom. You forget how strong he is, muscles flexing as he shifts you again, careful not to drop you. It makes you feel giddy, but you squeak in a moment of terror when he drops you unceremoniously on your bed, the brief moment of freefall startling.

You land with a huff and he grins down at you as he stands up against the edge of the bed, knees squeezing your legs together as he reaches behind his neck to yank at his t-shirt. You watch, slack-jawed as he pulls the material up and over his head in a way that is somehow hot, as benign as it is. 

Seokjin is all gold and tan planes, body perfect in the low light of your room as he tosses his shirt. You take a second to admire his broad chest, dark nipples pebbling in the cool room. Dark hair trails from his belly button and vanishes in the waist of his jeans.

Seeking warmth, you reach for him. He leans forward, pressing his palms into the mattress to hover over you, knees placed on either side of your thighs. His muscles jump when you brush your hands up the softness of his stomach toward the harder muscle of his pecs. 

It feels like the sun is trapped underneath his skin, burning its way out of him as your fingers explore. You’ve never touched him like this, slow and reverant and full of unbridled desire. He watches you, drinking in the way you take him in. The way you take your time. 

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, looking up at him. His ears turn red and he rolls his eyes. You grin, dragging your hand up to rest over his chest where his heart thuds wildly beneath your palm. “I mean here, idiot. Yeah you’re hot too, but you’re beautiful in here.” 

Unreadable emotion flits across his face. Something like joy and pain - the pain of wanting to hear that for so long, waiting for the admission. You understand the same pain of desire filled so unexpectedly that it hurts. 

Seokjin kisses you again and this time with intent. He shifts and slides a knee between your legs, pressing up to the apex of your thighs. You groan and lift your hands, sliding them through his hair. The strands are silky soft and long. You twist your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you as the kiss turns messy.

Whatever this is between you is more magic than you’ve felt in years. You feel breathless as he kisses across your jaw and toward your neck, sucking harshly on the soft skin underneath your ear. You whine and he chuckles, hot breath hitting your ear.

“Why don’t you do that thing you love so much, hmm?” he asks, nipping your ear lobe. “Are you shy now? Don’t wanna grind on me?”

You do want to, but you hesitate. He encourages you, taking a hand and skimming down your waist to your ass, sliding under and squeezing your cheek as he lifts your hips in a motion to grind against him. The friction is good but not nearly enough and you let out a pitiful sound. 

“Come on,” he urges. “Do it right, then.”

Fuck. Fuck. 

You grind your cunt on his leg properly, planting your feet on the edge of the bed for leverage as Seokjin’s mouth ravages your neck. You’re lost in him, letting your mind go a little empty as you seek friction, needing to relieve the pressure throbbing in your cunt.

Arousal gathers in your stomach and you feel yourself slow-drip into your panties, so turned on by the sudden confidence Seokjin has when kissing you, when telling you to move. This is a side of him you’ve never explored and you dive in head first.

One hand leaving his hair, you grab his hand that’s on your ass as he continues to nip your collarbones, tongue laving over the sting of his bite. He lets you lead him by the wrist, and you guide his hand between your legs where you press his fingers to your zipper. 

“Please,” you rasp. “I need more.”

He sinks his teeth into the top of your right breast, tongue tasting your skin. “Is that so?”

“Please. You said you’d walk through fire for me.”

His laugh is loud and he buries his face in your neck. You can’t help but laugh too, pausing your greedy hands in exchange for mirth. “Yeah,” he agrees with a chaste kiss to your throat. “I did say that, huh?”

“Yes, so gimme.” 

“Yah. Of course I am.”

Years of friendship have erased any ability to feel awkward with Seokjin but for a moment, you’re afraid it’ll be weird, touching one another like this. Seokjin has no such qualms, unbuttoning your pants and yanking them down your legs with ease.

When he comes back up to lean over you, he doesn’t slot a knee between your legs. Instead, his fingers press firmly to your clothed cunt, a curse falling from his mouth as he feels how damp you are. You’re hot all over and yet you feel hotter still as he circles his fingers gently over your clit. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, lids fluttering closed. “Feels good.”

“You’re fucking drenched, all from a little kissing huh?”

“And grinding,” you add.

“Yeah, like a hungry little vixen, huh?” You nod, biting your bottom lip as you get lost in his lazy ministrations and pressure on your clit. It’s relieved some of the ache, but not nearly enough. “I can see on your face you already want more.” 

This time, Seokjin doesn’t make you ask for it. He hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them to the side. Immediately you feel cold air against you, but he’s quick to slide his fingers up and down your wet folds, slicking them up to trail back up and circle slowly around your clit.

“Damn you’re fucking wet,” he curses. He leans up a little, eyes fucked out. “Take the rest off for me, baby.”

Baby. It shivers through you and you comply, though a little haphazardly. It’s hard to remove your shirt and bra with the way his fingers are slowly pressing your clit, making you thrash and gasp. 

As soon as you lay back down, no shirt and no bra, Seokjin is leaning forward, tongue darting out to flick against a stiffened nipple. You let out a loud moan and he hums in response, attacking his mouth to you and sucking. Fuck it feels good. You arch off the bed and his fingers leave your swollen clit to slide down your sticky mess to circle your entrance.

Gently, he sinks in a single finger. Your eyes roll back a little, pussy fluttering as he strokes your front wall. You’re tingling all over, buzzing with pleasure as he slowly fucks you with his finger, mouth busy plucking at your nipple with his teeth. 

You’re lost in it, melted into the bed as Seokjin plays you like a well-tuned instrument. The heel of his palm presses against your clit, providing just enough pressure as he fingers you to send the room spinning on its axis. 

He tongue-kisses across your chest, mouth ravenous against your heaving gasps as he finds your other nipple. The tip of his tongue circles, making you keen and squirm underneath him. He watches you with dark eyes, teasing the aching bud before nipping you lightly. 

“Sensitive,” he mumbles, dragging spit-slicked lips against your breast. “Can you take another finger?”

You nod eagerly, hungry to be filled. Your orgasm is starting to build slowly, worked up by the way he mouths at you, by the way Seokjin’s fingers reach so deep, pressing against your g-spot as he sinks another into your heat. 

“Shit,” you pant. “That feels so fucking good, Jin.”

“Mhmm.” He brings his mouth up to yours and your tongues tangle, teeth clinking together as he fucks you harder, the wet smack of your pussy against his palm loud. “Tight fucking pussy,” he pants, pressing hard against your front wall. Your heels dig into the bed as you try to keep up with the pleasure blooming in your stomach. “Gonna need to fuck you open a little if you’re gonna take me.”

If you’re gonna take me.

The promise of more has you rolling your hips up to meet his hand. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, dropping his gaze to look between your bodies. Your thighs and his stomach are slick with your juice, leaking around his fingers uncontrollably. 

When Seokjin introduces another finger, you hiss. The stretch is hard and it burns. He doesn’t keep thrusting right away, letting your cunt stretch around his three digits. But he’s pressed up against your soft spot, making you see stars as he puts unrelenting pressure on your nerves. 

It feels like insanity, the way he does this to you. The way Seokjin buries his face in your neck, your chests pressed together to provide friction against your teeth-marked nipples as he starts to build up a pace again, thrusting. 

“I’m gonna come,” you whisper, hands grabbing frantically at his sweaty shoulder blades. Your thighs are shaking and it’s hard to get a breath in. Your voice quakes as you gasp. “Fuck, Jin I’m - ah ah ah.”

“So come,” he says, as if it’s that simple. He puts weight behind the hand fucking you, quickens the pace. Presses so fucking hard you think you might blackout. “If you’re gonna come, then do it.” 

And you do. Just like that, nails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, you come around his fingers. He fucks you through it, breath hot in your ear. Your knees squeeze around his hips until you’re spent, collapsing against the mattress, boneless. 

Seokjin retracts his fingers. The sudden feeling of being empty makes you huff in protest and he laughs, lifting his face from your neck. You pout up at him and he kisses you again before leaning upward, straddling your legs. 

Your eyes zero in on his hands as they undo the top of his belt. His hand is covered in a wet sheen, cum-slicked and sticky. He doesn’t care, popping up the belt and pulling down the zipper of his pants. You grow eager, leaning up as he pulls the waist down, revealing the dark briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is. 

With no warning, you reach for his clothed cock, squeezing firmly. He hisses and drops his hands, jeans only pulled halfway down his thighs. Seokjin tips his head back and moans at the ceiling as you lean forward and mouth at the damp spot on his briefs, tasting salt. 

“Fuck,” he swears and you grin, pressing and holding the flat of your tongue to the cloth to wet it. “You’re a little slut, huh?”

You hum in agreement. Fingers dancing up his thighs, you pause at the elastic band, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I?”

Seokjin tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes half-lidded. He nods, watching and dazed as you peel the elastic down his hips slowly. You lean forward as you do, pressing a soft kiss to his hip bone. He twitches and sighs in response.

You look at his cock as it bobs against his stomach, brown tip smearing precum against his navel. You lick your lips and drag your hand up, fingers gripping his velvety shaft. He’s thick and heavy in your hand as you grasp him firmly, stroking upward. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispers, hips twitching. You grin up at him, swiping a thumb over the crown of his cock to spread the wetness down his shaft. He hums, entranced. “More.”

You don’t have to ask what he means. You lean upwards, pulling the tip of his cock toward your mouth. You slide just the tip into your mouth, suckling generously and running your tongue along the slit. His hand slips to the side of your neck, resting there but not doing anything. It’s a comforting weight as you take him in your mouth properly. 

Seokjin is art above you. Chest flushed, mouth open, eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was on his knees at worship. It is a sort of worship, the way you sink down on his cock, lips stretched wide, drool dripping down the side of your mouth and running down your jaw and neck. Is it not the spirit of loving him moving through you? Is this not heaven, looking up at him and seeing someone that has chosen you over and over again?

No pagan ritual in your life as a witch has felt like this. You swallow around him, eyes watering as you choke on his length, pulling back a little to catch your breath. Your hand squeezes him at the base, slick with your spit and his precum. Your mouth is wet and swollen as you lick the underside of his shaft, never looking away from his face.

“Fuck that mouth,” he sighs, eyes opening and looking down at you. He squeezes the side of your neck a little, fingers right against your throat. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I can’t hold out if you keep going. How do you like it?”

Instead of answering him, you pull off of him with a sloppy, wet noise. You make a show of running your tongue along your lips before turning around and crawling up the bed, wiggling your ass a little. Seokjin groans as he sheds his jeans and briefs the rest of the way. 

The bed sinks when he crawls behind you. You go down on your elbows, ass up high. He smacks each cheek firmly with both hands, making you yelp as he grips the stinging flesh, squeezing. “You have a good ass.”

“You have a nice dick.”

He laughs loudly at that. Seokjin’s hand skims down to your thighs, grabbing them and pushing them open. You sink a little lower on the bed, face pressed to the sheets and letting your eyes shut. The hair on his thighs sends a shiver up your spine as his legs brush against yours, hands roaming and squeezing your hips, your butt, your thighs.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters. His hands come back over the globes of your ass and sink toward your wet cunt. You moan as his thumbs peel you open, pressing around your clenching hole. “Shit.” 

The bed bounces as he moves again and then your eyes are snapping open, fingers twisting in your sheets when you feel the flat of his tongue swipe up your pussy. He hums in delight and you’re reeling, trying to catch your breath as he licks at you.

“Just wanted a taste,” he says, more to himself than you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it a few times and you nearly crumble right there at the unexpected stimulation. He slow-licks up to your hole, tracing it once before retracting his mouth. “I have all the time in the world for you to come in my mouth. Right now I just wanna feel you.”

“Yes, please.”

Your breath gets stuck when you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock catch your entrance. He’s thick, and even though you’re dripping down your thighs and stretched from his fingers, the pressure of him sinking into your heat slowly sends you moaning like a wanton whore, unable to stop the sounds escaping your mouth.

Seokjin is precise, hands holding your hips firmly until he’s fully seated in your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. You feel so full, his cock reaching deep enough to feel in your gut. When he pulls all the way out, you think something is wrong, but he fucks back into you hard.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, feeling the full weight of him spear you. “Holy shit.”

He doesn’t say anything but he grunts, setting a slow but deep pace. His hips snap into you with force, your knees spreading a little bit wider. He leans into it more, moving his hands to press into the small of your back. The full force of his weight pushing your hips into the bed as he slams into you makes you dizzy. 

An orgasm starts to build deep in your stomach. You claw at the bed, breaths coming out in a hiss. Seokjin grabs one of your hands, pulling it backward to pin it against your lower back before doing the same to the other. You’re completely pinned under him, pushed so far into the mattress you think you might fade and vanish into foam and sheets. 

Nothing here matters but the way he fucks into you, unrelenting, heavy, precise. He says your name and it rolls off his tongue sweeter than any pastry he’s ever made. Your orgasm creeps up on you, shaking and thunderous. It feels stronger than before, a pressure that makes you start to shiver, feet kicking under him.

For a moment, he slows, pulling off you a little. “Okay?”

“Keep going,” you beg him, voice high-pitched and strange to your ears. “Please don’t stop, I’ll tell you if I can’t take it.”

That’s all he needs. He redoubles and this time, changes his direction, hits that spot inside of you head on with his cock and you think you’re going to pass out. You become lifeless under him, unable to do anything but take it. The wave of your orgasm builds and builds and builds until finally, it breaches. 

You come for a second time, no noise coming out of you. It’s all white vision and squeezed thighs and ringing ears. You think you feel something like a bolt of lightning, a snap of power so strong as you clench around Seokjin that you taste static in the air. 

It’s hard to know how long it lasts. One moment you’re shaking and the next, you’re drifting, feeling weightless and exhausted. The weight of Seokjin’s touch keeps you tethered and from straying too far, but you’re somewhere in between nonetheless. 

Slowly, reality drips back to you. You think you may have dozed a little, your eyes dry as you blink them open. Seokjin is lying next to you, arm wrapped around you and eyes closed. He’s not breathing deep enough to be asleep, confirming it when his eyes open, sensing your gaze.

A smile lights up his face and you smile tiredly at him. Your cunt aches and your legs and arms are sore from being pinned, and you’re still a little shaky. Thoughts of your orgasm make you twitch, post-sex tremors that you can’t escape.

“Hi,” you rasp. “Did I fall asleep?”

“I think you blacked out.”

“I- what?” 

“I sort of…” he frowns. “There was like this electrical snap when I came. You clenched me so fucking hard I just… let go. I think we sort of had a magical orgasm.”

“A magical orgasm.”

He grins. “Just say thank you for the witch orgasm.”

“Ugh.” You smack his chest and he laughs hoarsely. 

It did feel like that though. Like a crackle of energy, like being struck by a storm of electricity and heat. You feel tired and heavy-limbed, but you feel sticky and sweaty too. “I need a shower.”

“Mhmm. I was waiting for you to come to.” He starts to sit up. “Come on, I’ll shower you. Then we need to sleep. We have to prepare you for your big day.”

“My big day?”

Seokjin grins as he reaches a hand for you. There’s a spark again when you touch and you hesitate, feeling the well of his magic there. It hums in him, a thunderhead of power and fire. He sees your expressions and softens. “You can’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Baby, I just fucked the everloving shit out of you and you know what you didn’t do?” Your brows pull together and he smiles. “You didn’t pull an ounce of my magic from me. I think you’re a lot better at control than you think you are.”

Licking your lips, you nod and let him pull you from bed. You are good at control. You had to be after your sister. It’s something you’ve practiced nonstop, the unconscious control of your desire for magic. Even when you sleep, you wake up often, fearful of losing your grip on yourself while you slumber.

It hasn’t happened yet. And as Seokjin leads you to the shower, you think… maybe it never will. Especially if the ritual goes right. Especially if you can get your magic back. 

Perhaps for the first time since you were thirteen, you feel a sliver of hope. When you look at Seokjin and you feel your heart stutter, you know that even without your magic, you’ve found something.

-

“Oh for the love of the land,” Yoongi groans when you appear in the basement of Seokjin’s home. “Look at the two of you.”

Everyone swivels to look at you and Seokjin, who are hand-in-hand. You freeze, pulling up short to take in the candle-lit room and the six other men who are all looking at you with equal parts happiness and a little bit of amusement.

You shift from foot to foot and chew your lip. Suddenly you want to turn tail and run back up the stairs and away from the watchful eyes of your friends - of Seokjin’s coven members. But Seokjin holds your hand tight, tugging you down the rest of the stairs into the gloom of the room.

Perhaps gloom isn’t the right word. The room is much too warm and smells of sage and thyme, a good feeling if not a little overwhelming. Outside this house, there is an entire festival going on at the park. The covenstead witches were furious when Seokjin let them know that he and his six would not be participating this year, as they had private matters to attend to.

It’s common for covens to use the holiday for something specific. Perhaps to bless a witch in need, or to strengthen a spell, or to defeat some evil. You remember that night that your parents left you alone for Beltane duties to fight and remove Dissenters, and how that turned out for you.

Magic hums all around you. It’s in the sigils on the ceiling of Seokjin’s sanctum and it’s in the ley lines that you can feel now more than ever as the veil between worlds thins. Each member of the coven has magic humming in their veins, a sort of signature taste and feel to it. You sense Yoongi’s deep shadows and Namjoons vibrant green, taste Jimin’s clean water and feel Hoseok’s pure air. Taehyung and Seokjin are the flickering flame that fills the room with light and heat, and Jungkook’s crackling storm greets you in the corner.

It’s hard to imagine where you fit in with them. But they don’t have a blood witch, who is all of these things wrapped into one. You know that they support you. The eight of you have gone over the ritual what feels like a hundred times at this point, perfecting it and making sure you know it inside and out.

The two rituals are wildly different. One to seek and find the source of your pain, led by Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi’s shadows and connection to the other side will help seek answers and provide clarity on whatever signs and hints come through the vision you’re supposed to have, and Hoseok’s strength with air will help keep you protected and clear of any negative energy.

Then, a small spell to build a bridge between the two rituals that Namjoon will handle with Jimin. Namjoon has it down to a science and has previously used it to link spells, and his affinity for earth will ground the entire circle. Jimin’s skill with water is to help guide you from ritual to ritual with ease and clarity. 

It’s the second half of the ritual that’s the most demanding, which is why it’s Taehyung and Jungkook conducting the destructive half, breaking whatever stands between you and your magic. Two warriors meant to sever your block or the target of your curse, whichever it may be.

And it’s possible that you’re cursed. You have briefly spoken about what that means. About what to do. It will most likely mean something damaging and life-threatening for whoever did curse you, if you forcefully try to shatter it instead of finding the cause. 

But there’s also potential for you to be harmed if the two of them try to break it and it’s too strong. It’s a risk that you have to assess in the moment, which is terrifying. You want to do it anyway, and you’re happy to find that they support you. That they’re there for you.

Coven members already, really. 

All seven of them are dressed to perform a ritual. Dark robes, anointed element symbols in dark ash on their brows. Yoongi has a small circlet around his head, making you pause and tilt your head as you glance at Seokjin. He sees your confusion and smiles. “Yoongi is our high priest tonight,” he murmurs. “He will start and end the circle so I can be here with you.”

Yoongi is blushing and looking up at the ceiling when you turn back to him. For him to step up and hold the circle as the beginning and end is a huge risk on him. He’ll be providing the most magic and taking on the most risk second only to you, all so that Seokjin can move freer and have more control.

“Yoongi is a very powerful witch, as you know,” Seokjin murmurs, steering you to the center of the room. “He holds circles for a lot of our rituals when we feel he’s better suited.” 

“Which is often,” Yoongi mutters at the ceiling where he keeps his gaze. 

“Yah, shut up, hag. Everyone get in their places.”

Seokjin puts you in the very center of the room. There is a pentagram chalked in powder, but there is no glow to it, no light to signal that it’s being used. He squeezes your shoulders and you look at him, wide eyed and afraid. His smile is warm and a little nervous, but he leans in and kisses you once.

“Trust us,” he says. “This will be hard on you. But we’ve got you.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t break the circle,” he reminds you. “If you have to break, do it when Namjoon is at the middle part and before we start the second ritual. He will open the circle a little, but it’ll be just for a moment before the second is started and locked.”

“Right. Ten second escape if I need to.”

“You only have that window if we need to stop. Once we start the second, there is no stopping until the full ritual is complete.”

“Got it.”

“Good luck,” Seokjin whispers and kisses you on the brow. “I’ll be right here.”

With a deep breath, he steps to the side and grasps your hand. The two of you stand alone in the middle, you and your anchor. Silence settles over the room. You haven’t been in the middle of a circle since you were a little girl receiving her first welcome into the coven. You had done that with your sister by your side and your mother at the head of the circle.

Now, you’re with Seokjin, with Yoongi at the head of the circle. Yoongi doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but you sense his calming aura even from where he stands at the first point of the circle. He rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, lifting his palms upward. “I stand at north, the beginning and end, start this circle, spirit ascend.”

You feel the ripple of magic in the room. Fire crackles at Yoongi’s feet, making you flinch. You watch as the red flames lick toward Hoseok, who is quick and light as he murmurs, “I stand northeast, to cleanse and protect, continue the circle, spirit to the next.”

You watch the flame as it sparks to life, moving clockwise around the room. Every time a member joins the circle, you feel the power thrum through the room, the pentagram beneath your feet beginning to glow. The flame comes all the way back around to Yoongi and he closes it, eyes opening and looking right at you.

Yoongi looks different than before, eyes shadowed and full of stars. “Begin,” he commands, voice like a thousand whispers. 

A little spike of fear goes through you as Hoseok begins to chant. You recognize the Latin immediately but your unpracticed ears lose trace of the meaning. It’s picked up slowly in the room and you feel your palms slick with sweat as the light of the pentagram pulses beneath your feet, the flames flickering around the feet of the coven members.

Yoongi’s voice picks up the chant like you’ve never heard him before. It’s uncanny and you lean into Seokjin, who squeezes your hand and looks down at you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “This happens when he leads a circle. Veil is thin.”

Nodding your head, you turn to the front again, feeling the itch to pull power from the circle, to draw their magic into you. There’s so much of it filling the room, an open tap of water spilling into the sink. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, worried that you won’t be able to resist, worried that you’re going to pull from the magic and-

A wave of dizziness hits you. You gasp and bend over, hand circling your middle as though you’ve just been punched. Seokjin’s hands are on your back but you can’t hear him, a high-pitched ringing drowning out the sound of his voice. For a second, you’re lost in the sensation of having the air sucked from your lungs and the whine in your ears getting higher and higher.

Just when you think that your ear drums will burst, the ringing stops. There is a hushed whisper filling your ears and you still can’t catch your breath. The room spins a little and when you look up expecting to see Yoongi, all you see is dark trees and a blurry shadowy… building. Something. 

The whispers creep up on you. There are so many of them, hundreds - no, thousands - of voices brushing against you, dragging their fingers along your skin, touching you, hissing, singing, screaming. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced and their words are jumbled, sliding over one another.

Terror begins to claw at you. You try to remain calm, remembering that these are not the voices of spirits or something evil. Hoseok is commanding this ritual, an element of purity and guidance. He won’t let anything bad happen to you.

With faith in your future coven member, you try to focus on the voices. Try to decode them. Namjoon warned you that the messaging might be confusing. That you might not follow or understand what it’s saying. Symbols, images, key words. You need to reach for anything that seems like something, that can point to the origin of your block and follow it. 

Yoongi’s presence presses at the back of your mind. It startles you at first, to feel who you know is innately Yoongi. You follow the press of whatever he’s doing and you catch a few words that fly by you: little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. 

Unsure what it means, you cling to that. Little hut. It means something… you remember something about it. Yoongi’s presence fades away, satisfied that you’ve picked up on whatever it is he sees or senses. 

Flipping through memories, you try to remember why a hut might mean anything to you. There were no huts by your town… nothing that you can remember no one you know of. 

Little hut, little hut.

One memory sticks with you. Your sister playing in the background, hopscotching to a little tune that Mila down the street whispered to her about a witch in the woods. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

Yes, you think. A rhyme about a witch who lived in the woods. More thing than witch, really. A shadowy being that took the shape of a hut, a creature of magic and curses that could be found in the darkest part of the woods when the veil is thin. 

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

You see it now. The blurry shape of a house that’s not really a house. The witch in the wood was a blood witch once, it was said. A witch who had long since dissented and practiced arcane magic, following a path that led her here. That led her to this. A thing of the woods. 

It occurs to you the weight of the appearance of her. This hut in the woods. Yoongi’s flippant remark about you being cursed is suddenly real.

Dread drops down in your stomach like a weight. You can’t hear anything beyond the rhyme, the chant to find the witch of the woods. You’re cursed, you realize. All the fear that your condition was self-inflicted, that it was your fault, that this was something you did. 

This is something that happened to you, Seokjin had said.

And he was right. Someone cursed you - did this to you. A child. 

Out there in the world, there is someone responsible for the death of your sister. Someone who took your magic, who turned you into a leech. The reason for your family's pain, the reason for them throwing you away. For your father and mother being driven mad, for the town turning against you.

You think about the rock that hit you just days ago. Thrown by a child taught to hate you. Taught that it was okay to hurt you because it was you. The town siphoner. A witch who couldn’t make her own magic, a parasite. 

Anger wells up inside of you and you latch onto the rhyme swirling around your head, clawing through it. This is the thread you must follow to find your curse giver. This is the clue.

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

Dully, you are aware that Seokjin is next to you. You see him from the corner of your eye but it’s not Seokjin at all. Well - not as you now know him. This Seokjin is younger - a teenager by the looks of it. He’s not doing anything except staring out into the darkness. He fades in and out like a bad TV picture, glitching and blurring. But you know it’s him. 

His face is different though. Twisted in grief and pain, a frozen picture of angst. You imagine this is what you looked like when your sister died, a tableau of hurt and hate. 

Little hut, little hut

I call to thee

Little hut, little hut

Come to me

The Seokjin in front of you fades away. You reach out for him but your hands cut through empty air and darkness. He’s not really there and you have a hard time grasping the meaning of this. The voice sounds almost like Seokjin but not quite. Not as mature. 

Young Seokjin doesn’t show up again. You can feel the real Seokjin somewhere in the mess of the vision and the darkness, but you can’t hear him. Can’t see him. There is only the omnipresent darkness of the hut and the whispers of voices. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

There’s a flash of lightning. A storm in the darkness, splashes of purple and blue electricity. You cover your eyes as you hear thunder, low and soft somewhere. Across from you, your sister appears. She’s a fraternal twin who looks nothing like you except in the eyes. Your eyes look right back at you.

She’s the same age she was when she died. When you took her magic away. When you were cursed. She looks the same age as the apparition of Seokjin, and you try to understand. To make the connection from what you're seeing as the lightning lances again like it did that fateful night.

The rhyme keeps circling in a hurricane of whispers. 

As the ritual comes to a close, the vision begins to fade. You’re no better off than where you started and in a panic, you reach for the vision of your sister. You just want to hold her one last time, to feel the warmth of her skin.

But she isn’t real and she fades as Hoseok’s chanting falls to a murmur and then to a whisper, the air returning to normal. You can breathe again, and as you look up from where you’re bent over, you see Seokjin kneeling on the ground in front of you, holding you by the shoulders. His face is swimming with fear and concern, gaze searching.

Seokjin looks so much like his younger self. He’s matured into his face and is a handsome man, but he was a cute teenager. His face now is full of love and concern, but you think about his face in your vision. Twisted in pain and years. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

You straighten up suddenly, knocking him over on his ass as you do so. It feels like you’ve been slapped as you stare at him, a sudden buzz in your ears as you stare and stare and stare. The ritual comes to an end and Namjoon opens the circle - a foot in the door, more like - and begins to start his spell for Taehyung and Jungkook to weave the new ritual into the circle. 

Without thinking about it, you dash for the edge of the circle. Seokjin yells but you’re fast, surging between Namjoon and Jimin where the door exists. Namjoon’s head snaps to look at you, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Close it and close the circle,” you pant. 

“I-”

“Close the fucking circle!”

Seven pairs of eyes look at you then. They hesitate for a moment, the flames around them wavering. You can feel the power licking at their heels and something like rage shudders through you. You don’t know where to channel it yet and you begin to pace as Namjoon recloses the circle and turns to Yoongi. 

Slowly, Yoongi begins to finish the ritual. They work backward from Yoongi to Jungkook to Taehyung to Jimin. You don’t look at them, wringing your hands as you pace back and forth, heart reaching a wild beat. 

Images fly by. The hut, the whispers, Seokjin’s face, the thunderstorm, your sister. 

The narrative isn’t straightforward. You don’t quite understand the rhyme, or its function, but the second half sounds bad, sounds perhaps like a plea. A bargain. A need for a curse. You recall the thunderstorm on the night of Beltane, the way your sister watched with wide eyes while you sought her out. You think of Seokjin’s affinity for fire and storms, the way he can command thunder just by being upset. You think of his face, so full of pain and hate. 

Finally, they finish the circle. Seokjin rushes to you, hands outstretched and a question on his mouth but you jerk away from him. 

“Did you curse someone?” you demand, making him pull up short. He opens and closes his mouth. The silence in the room is deafening. You can hear your own heartbeat, pulse throbbing in your ears. “Seokjin, did you curse someone?”

“I… what does that have to do with-”

“Little hut, little hut. Hear my strife. Little hut, little hut. Ruin this life.” 

Three things happen then. The first is Seokjin’s confusion as he shakes his head, lost as to why you’re repeating a rhyme back to him. Then a flicker of memory followed by the drain of color on his face. He straightens up, blanched and shaking his head back and forth as he takes a step away from you.

“No,” he says and takes another step back. “That’s not right, I didn’t curse you.”

“What did you do?” 

“I didn’t curse you,” he says again. He seems lost in it though, like he’s saying it to himself. Yoongi takes a step toward Seokjin and he holds out a hand, warding Yoongi off. “I cursed the witches responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t curse you.” 

“You cursed someone?” Taehyung hisses from across the circle. “And you never thought to mention it in preparation for this?”

“Shut up, Taehyung,” Seokjin snaps. “I didn’t curse her. I did go into the woods that night to find the hut witch and I cursed the people responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t even know you then.” 

“Did you give a name? What did you say?” 

“I didn’t know their names!” He answers, frantic and looking at you pleadingly. “I didn’t - no. I remember it, I shared my blood with her, to show the memory. I saw their faces, but I didn’t know their names. We were -” his voice cracks and he clutches his hands against his chest, tears in his eyes. “I was so afraid when they came. We’d been going from town to town, trying to get away. My parents wanted to go back home, overseas. We just had to get there and then these witches, they came and blew down the door and they killed them.”

“So you cursed them based on a memory?”

“Yes,” he insists. “Baby, I didn’t curse you. How could I? How would I?”

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

“Seokjin.” You say his full name, voice ringing and calmer than you feel. Your stomach is in knots and you feel your mouth water, hinting at the nausea working its way up your throat. “Did you ask the blood witch in the hut to ruin the lives of the witches who killed your parents?”

“Yes.”

“Were your parents Dissenters killed on the night of Beltane?”

A long stretch of silence takes up the space between you. You stare at Seokjin and he becomes a stranger. Become another person on the street that looks at you with hate. Another face in the dozens of the town who don’t care if you exist. 

When Seokjin says nothing, it says everything. The final piece of information slots its way in and you feel like you’re going to crack open like an egg and spill out. Gooey and yolk-yellow. 

“That was why there was a storm,” you whisper. “Because you were angry and upset, wherever it was that you were. And you cursed my family. Not my parents. Our entire family. That’s why I lost my magic and siphoned my sister to death. That’s why my parents were driven to madness and their eventual end. It’s why everyone hates me. You cursed me with ruin.”

“I…” Seokjin shakes his head but can’t make the words come out. 

There is no way out now. You get everything picture perfect for the first time. It’s the perfect curse, really. Driving your family to ruin in different ways. Pushing you, the final member of the family, to the person you would eventually fall in love with, to the person that cursed you.

You can’t break it. Not knowing that it’s most likely at the cost of Seokjin’s life. Giving his blood to the witch was a terrible thing. She used it to cast the curse and likely to bind it to him. Which means if you want your magic, you must kill Seokjin. 

Instead of standing there to consider the possibility, you turn and run. He tries to run after you but someone stops him. He has his coven to comfort him for what he’s done and you have nothing and no one. Just how you started. 

Your runaway is messy. Tripping over thresholds, slipping down stairs. Night stretches over the world and the air is thrumming with energy. You think it would be so easy to tap into, to take and take and take the magic around you that echoes from the Beltane festivals. Would anyone even notice if you took a little?

Still, you don’t. Hot tears blind you as you stumble into the woods behind Seokjin’s house. It’s not the best shortcut when you’re distraught and overcome with tears, but you think you can get to your apartment building by memory alone. 

Around you, the world grows darker and quieter. Eventually, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and sniffling as the tears freefall. Something prickles on your skin and you slow your tangled escape to look around you.

The woods are unfamiliar. At least, they seem darker and hazier, like you’re somewhere that looks like the woods behind Seokjin’s house but isn't quite right. You’re more careful as you move forward, one foot in front of the other. 

A breeze cools the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, feeling more like a finger running down your spine than the actual wind. A whisper of noise wisps by you and you stop, frowning. Trying to grasp the words as they float by, indiscernible. 

You start walking again, following the sound of a voice that is always just a little too far ahead. A little too soft spoken for you to make out the words. When you do manage to catch up, you hear a soft little rhyme. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

Something like a high-pitched wail rings out behind you. Your limbs lock and goosebumps explode over your arms and legs as you slowly crane your neck to look in the direction that you came. There’s no clear path, just tangled trees and darkness. 

A soft buzz tingles along your skin. You sense the magic, static that you can’t hear but you can feel and taste on your tongue. Slowly, you turn back to face the direction you’re walking. There is a tiny little stream in front of you, trickling and black.

Carefully, you step over it. Your hands quake. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck and your upper lip, your mouth trembling as you see the vague shape of a hut. Or perhaps it's just the idea of a hut, with a hole for a door that looks endless. Void. Dark. 

You think about your sister. See her face swimming in front of you, so full of life. Then it drains of color as you bleed her dry and steal everything from her. Every drop, turning her from a beautiful girl full of the sun and the sky into a husk. 

You clench your fists. 

Vengeance can’t bring her back. Vengeance can’t make them love you. But it can take away this fucking hurt inside of you, the pain that you have carried for so long that it feels like a wound that will never close. So you decide to take a page out of Seokjin’s book.

“Little hut, little hut,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feel my ache. Little hut, little hut, make him break.” 

[thewriterg]

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): Leonardo x afab!reader, Raphael x afab!reader, Donatello x afab!reader, Michelangelo x afab!reader, heretic!reader (witch and vampire), soulmate AU

summary: Fighting an army of foot clan soldiers by yourself was easy but seeing your mates and their father that you began to call your own in pain was one of the hardest things you’ve ever been through you’ve ever been through on your over three centuries of earth and you could never see your mates in pain, not ever.

word count: 10.8k+ —damn boy she’s thick— 😎🤏👴🏿

warning(s): mentions of death and suicide attempts, violence, blood, descriptions of weapons, angst, they’re all 22-20 don’t hit me with that minor bayverse turtle bs, crying, feeling a soul bond dying?, pet names, kisses, and language

A/n: —GIFs; @tkappi & @aurora-the-kunoichi— So I rewatched TMNT 2014/16 the best one beside 2012 btw 🙄 and I’m actually taking this from a draft of mine from like two years ago…

You stood surrounded by over a dozen foot soldiers in the alley just above the sewer occasionally throwing daggers and ripping flesh with your bare teeth you had no desire to drag this fight on any longer than you had to you did however feel the strong tug of your bond pulling you to protect your mates

your mates

Little over three years ago you would’ve never even thought of thinking of such you were a witch yes and you did your studies over the subject but it was brief something you couldn’t get into because you simply would not have something like that of your own

Well you could see how far that got you

At the end of 2016 and beginning of 2017 you had a very awaken feeling in your heart and stomach and the longer you tried to pull away from it the more empty you began to feel so you began to travel with no reason why and after a long five months you were in New York

The turtles didn’t have a clue what was going on in their bodies they had passed mating season and it was almost like the hibernation like symptoms they experienced in the winter because they in fact did not hibernate

From lively, upbeat, hyper, and energetic the reptiles turned into slow, easily irritable, cranky creatures. They had no motivation to train as hard as they usually did, had endless arguments snapping at each other, sleeping for more than twelve hours at a time if Splinter didn’t wake them, and despite an empty feeling in their stomach and chest they had no desire to eat

Leonardo couldn’t utter another motivational speech as he was before when his team were experiencing said dilemmas as he was the last to get hit with the dreadful feelings he could barely drag himself out of bed to use the bathroom so why would he force his brothers to train?

Raphael was snapping at anything that made a noise around him or even seemed to breathe in his direction on the regular he would occasionally bump heads with Leo but now no one was safe from the Red Clad turtles rage and he spent most of his time in his weight room pounding his fish into a worn and abused punching bag

Donatello couldn’t tell you when’s the last time the group had showered nor could he tell you when’s the last time he invented or fixed something hell he couldn’t even think of the last time he even began to touch his equipment he along with Leo often slept the longest even after Splinters attempts of getting them both up

Michelangelo who was usually the most talkative and hyper of the group had fell silent and drained he hadn’t rode his hoverboard in weeks and couldn’t even begin to try to think to pick up a spray can or pencil to draw anything he instead was up all night and asleep all day

The problem was that they were at the end of spring they were not in winter so they should have not been experiencing those said feelings

Splinter had had enough he knew his boys were strong and would eventually shake the feeling like they always did but they didn’t usually get like this until the colder times of the year and it was indeed blazing hot

When the thought crossed over his mind he denied it quickly they were animals such thing couldn’t be possible as he thought it was but as time went on it made more and more sense

Animals had mates and mating seasons yes, his son’s experienced it every year that wasn’t the issue it was the who would fulfill the roles as each of the terrapins mates that confused him the books of turtle mating didn’t cover enough ground for him to get the answers he needed so he was soon once again standing face to face to face with the bookshelf he hardly touch that taught him wisdom and the art he knew today

The mutant rat had picked up a book he had yet to read the only book he hadn’t read it had a brown leather cover and it was thick and full with unread pages he carefully dragged his pawed hands over the front carefully making sure to watch his claws

He’d read the book front to back making sure to read over each page at least twice but he was most efficiently reading over soul ties and sealing soul bonds

Soon enough weeks after he was sure Splinter had all of his sons in front of him and even though they felt this way this odd, empty, pitiful, way they all held their respective positions on their knees their three fingers pressed up against their other pair and head bowed even though they slouched as they all could hear sleep and the voidness beg their names out with a screeching voice

“I have a gift for you all, something as a serve of hope” The mutant spoke in his usual prideful, wisdom filled, tone as he began to explain the tale bits and pieces at a time until the puzzle was made up and the picture was made out in front of them

Leonardo was glad he had an explanation or even a start of why they were feeling this way he could slowly feel some of the weight on his his chest and deep within his plastron

Raphael was skeptical even though he never doubted his Sansei he raised him, never lied to him, trained him, kept him safe when he was defenseless, but he couldn’t help but be skeptical. Even if he did have a soulmate what type of being with a brain and sense of surrounding would want to be with a freak like him?

Donatello was on the middle side of the fence he had his doubts what if they were just going through an early ‘hibernation’ period? Though Donnie wasn’t as open to it as Ralph was he did have a slight fear of rejection but he also had a feeling of excitement? Maybe fuzziness and warmth at the thought of being loved unconditionally that was made for someone just for him.

Michelangelo was ecstatic he would have an angel by his side. What if they were a Jedi? What if they were looking for him too!?

“How do we find our mates!? We should look for them! I gotta find my Angel cakes!” Mikey was out of his kneeling position he was ready to do anything his chest hurt a little less and soon he would realize it wasn’t the discovery but the newly found distance that lifted the weight

“Mikey we can’t just go on a side quest to find people we don’t know” Leo intervened is brothers rambling also getting out of his position of kneeling as the other two turtles followed in suite

“That’s your problem bro it’s not a ‘side quest’ it’s the main mission” The orange clad turtle stated in a matter of fact tone with a smile on his face

“And if we actually meet these people-”

“They’re our mates not jus’ some random people if you wanna be lonely all yer life that’s on you but you can’t make decisions for us” Ralph interrupted with a gruff coolly voice the pair began to argue as Donatello sighed heavily Along with Splinter who suddenly bursted from his quietness

“Silence! Before I send you all to hashi!” The mutant rodent shouted and the room fell silence the only thing erupting from the room was Mikey slightly whining about not doing anything but the group knew that it would just about alway be a group punishment

“You need to find an efficient plan that still allows you continue your duties while finding you’re peace” Splinter spoke wisely before retreating his steps to his room to meditate

“What if we send two of us at a time to search for them while the other two stay here to patrol” Donnie spoke up it wasn’t the most effective plan but it was the best they had the purple clad turtle had finally had relief of the dreadful empty feeling he didn’t plan on going back

“That’s not a bad idea… We should all go back to patrolling for now and then after a month or so we can get everything under control and then we can carry out the plan” Leo finally spoke up after a moment of silence as everyone subconsciously nodded eventually they all went their separate ways with a bit more hope than they started with

They had their Sansei to thank for that

💌💌💌💌

As weeks passed the brothers were too caught up in protecting the city to carry out their plan the reptiles all stood around in the dojo listening to the TV as the channel nine news played filling the silence

There had been ‘animal attacks’ going on all over the city multiple pictures of punctured wounds showed up on the screen and none of the brothers were dumb enough to believe the story that was being sold the wounds were too… clean to be from an animal attack their was two punctured spots with usually a bit of bruising around them and was often found around the neck just below the jugular or on the wrist barely missing a vein

“What if there’s a vampire out there just… feeding from people” Mikey stated in awe at the thought before Ralph through one of the terrapins nunchucks at his forehead while he hissed rubbing over the sore spot

“Vampires aren’t real idiot” The red clad turtle rolled his eyes as he placed is sais in their holsters at his hips

“You don’t know that! What if they could be hiding around us in plain sight” The youngest brother dragged as the group began to move towards the tunnels

“Well the news hasn’t report anyone sparklin’ like a disco ball ‘cause they’re in sun and these bites that people are getting aren’t turning them mad so I think that answers that pretty well” The raging turtle resorted with an eye roll as Mikey sucked his teeth

“Can you both be quiet!” Leo hissed as they quickly traveled through the tunnels the last thing they need was Splinter to hear their conversation bouncing of the metal as they traveled to the surface somewhere they were indeed not supposed to be

Soon enough the group was traveling over the roof of buildings watching over the streets of New York they weren’t as busy as they usually were but they were never empty

“Please, you’re taking too much” Donatello heard it first a small voice slightly whimpering followed by Leonardo as they alerted their brothers silently landing on the next roof close to an alley

“Shut up” A women’s voice erupted from the shadows and suddenly the noise of the first voice was gone the only thing left signaling life was heavy breathing

💌💌💌💌

You hadn’t had blood from the vein since you were around 220 it had been a while 146 years to be exact but even if you happened to be angry at the world for an unknown reason you weren’t stupid leaving a trail a bodies with bite wounds wouldn’t be ideal for laying low

You could’ve gave your victims some of your blood heal them up so they no longer had a mark to show for the attack but humans were idiotic and you didn’t need a baby vamp on your hands because they had found some way to die in twenty four hours

So you settled with this

You could feel different presences around you as you finally let up on the man who you had pushed against the wall tuning in on the heartbeats around and there were four not including the blonde in front of you but they didn’t sound human

Before you could comprehend a hand was on your shoulder crushing your collar bone you quickly gripped what you could make out as a three fingered hand throwing a packing kick to the things knee before swiping under its hold the wind whispering and whooshing behind you

Leonardo slightly faltered in his stance at the attack on his knee as a figure sped around him at a inhuman speed but it in fact was a human and he could feel string of his heart tug slightly but couldn’t think on it too much as Ralph called out to him

“Alright fearless that was your way hears mine” The red clad turtle stated in a gruff voice as you finally stood still in the middle of the alley that voice… it made your ears ring you couldn’t pawn on it long as you got swept off your feet your head hitting the concrete as the light post flickered so neither opposing sides could see each others identities and before the unknown creature could lay another hand on you you had your hand in the air before swiping it right as the being crashed into the the brick wall the sounds of trash bins falling filling the empty air

“What the hell” Ralph groaned quick to get back on his feet while Mikey stood beside him helping him up and was soon going back to the battle

No matter what the team threw at the unknown woman she was back up in an instant and seemed to be healing? Leonardo was sure he felt one of his katanas graze skin on her arm but he watched as the wound quickly mended itself together at a concerning rate

Whatever they were dealing with was not human

“I told you, I called it! It is a vampire!” The youngest brother cheered after coming from checking on the stranger along with Donnie the man was slightly bleeding from his neck and was experiencing some after shock symptoms but other than that was fine

“Mikey!” The other reptiles called as the youngest rolled his eyes mumbling about getting no credit before joining the fight with his brothers

Leo and Ralph were on their knees in front of the girl clutching their heads in pain as she held her hand out towards them and Mikey couldn’t help but realize she looked… human? other than her baring fangs and the prominent purple colored veins under her eyes her skin wasn’t paper white, she didn’t wear a cloak she wore… black jeans and a leather jacket?

“Donnie!” Leo called out groaning and gasping for air the pain going through his head was like a hundred needles stabbing at his brain is this how he was going to die?

“Sorry bro wrong turtle” Michelangelo grinned taking one of Raphael’s fallen sais before throwing it into the women’s shoulder blade as she let out a hiss and the orange clad terrapin was soon too on his knees in pain

Suddenly the light post flickered on and as You saw all three of the mutant turtles in front of you your invisible assault on the brain faltered as you looked at them closely your brain screaming at you to protect them, to touch them, to heal them.

You began to take a step forward before there was a cloth forced down on your nose and mouth and your face burned as you smelled the familiar plant clouding your senses

Vervain

You felt weak as you struggled against the rough yet warm embrace that held you down the plant was one of your very few weaknesses how’d they even know? Where did they even get it? As your vision became blurry, your face stung and burned, and you’re eyelids became heavy and soon you were limp in this familiar yet foreign embrace

The turtles watched as Donatello held a black cloth to the woman’s face and how she went limp in his hold they also watched as their brother stared at the stranger with a foreign care and something else they could quite figure out

Leonardo was the first one to get on his feet as he approached the pair something simply drawing him in and Donnie fought the urge to growl at his brother to get away as he subconsciously held the body tighter It hit then hit the leader like it did his brother as his mind screamed at him

Protect mate!

protect!

protect!

protect!

“It’s her” The terrapin whispered as he reached his arm out to touch her skin Donatello took a step back a low growl in the back of his throat as started at his brother with wild eyes

“Are you tellin’ me I ‘gotta share a mate with you idiots?” Raphael’s voice was deeper than it usually was his accent a little heavier as he stared at your limp body suddenly next to his brothers with some sort of anger at your unconscious state

“Dudes tell me you feel that too” Michelangelo questioned staring down at you and they could. The bubbling sensation in their plastrons, the protective nature screaming in their head, the odd feeling of the word spinning, and that nothing else no longer mattered

“We have to take her to the lair” The red clad turtle said suddenly ignoring his brother rabid animalistic gazes as he took a step forward to to get a better look at your features the skin around your mouth, nose, and chin slowly mended together itself together at a way slower rate than it was before Leo took note standing by his brothers side

“That herb, that’s her weakness. Donnie what Is that?” The leader questioned now inspecting the black cloth in his hands it didn’t burn or hurt him like it did you

“It’s an oil I made from a plant called Vervain, it’s a strong natural sedative. I figured if we did actually come into contact with an animal than it would be easier to put them down than tackle with it” Leave it to the purple clad turtle to think of every scenario they could be in

“What the hell are you doin’? It’s burning her idiot” Raphael growled now grabbing his brother scaled wrist as he went to sit the cloth back on your face and Leonardo snatched his hand away before responding

“We need to keep her unconscious until we get to the lair. I don't know if you're aware but she's not human or did you forget how she had you on your ass?” The leader rarely swore and it made the hot head get defensive but he was unusually uneasy

His mate was the one who drank blood from civilians.

His mate was not human.

His mate was not just his mate.

“Oh and she didn't have you on your knees begging like a pussy?” The red clad terrapin sneered as the two brothers stared at each other intensely nostrils flaring

“Guys we need to get her to my lab I don't care how we do it but we need to do it quickly” Donnie nugged Leonardo and Mikey tugged on Raphaels arm pulling them away from each other and the leader went to approach the blonde haired male who sat next to a trash bin with a newfound terror in his eyes softly shaking

“Do not tell anyone what you saw tonight. If you do, we will find you.” The reptile stated darkly after making sure the man was fine to walk and had a sense of surrounding

Soon the turtles were back on top of roofs the night winds grazing their scales as they jumped from one building to another quickly keeping Donnie infront as he held your unconscious body in his arms

When the group reached the manhole they were quick to run through the tunnels with silent feet and what would've been and fifteen minute walk to get to the lair was a five minute run as landed silently in in the dojo tip toeing to keep their Sensei unaware of their presence as they safely made it into Donatello's lab

“What are we gonna do to hold ‘er? She’ll just run again if we don't have ‘er held down” Ralph stated and for once Leo agreed while Mikey stood above your unconscious figure laying on Donnies bed, you were so beautiful, nostalgic even. He felt the strongest urge to protect you, the weight in his chest was empty, he felt complete.

You couldn't get away, you couldn't leave them and they just got you.

“What if we tied her down to a chair? You know how they do in those interrogation scenes in the action movies!?” The terrapin said suddenly causing his brothers to look at him pondering

“It's a good idea but, if she can push over Ralph and Leo like she did back there than ropes would be a piece of cake” Donnie shook his head slightly meeting his older brother's eyes as Leo spoke

“Do you still have some of that oil you made?”

💌💌💌💌

You felt your mind drifting in and out of consciousness as the voices around you suddenly went silent you blinked the fuzzy feeling in your brain away as your eyes open vision blurry and you began to take you hand to rub at it to be met with a searing pain around your body if you weren't up before you were now

You roughly thrashed around you restraints Vervain laced ropes clever you had to admit you felt too weak to break out of the chair you were strapped do

“Woah trouble slow yer roll there”

“Please don't hurt yourself anymore than you have ”

“Just relax Angel cakes you're all good ”

“We're not gonna hurt you”

It was pretty ironic that this..mutant tortoise in front of promised you such thing as your flesh repeatedly burned and healed itself

“Let me go” You hissed baring your fangs as purple veins traveled underneath your eyes and your once y/e/c eyes were now replaced for pitch blackness you fought the warm feeling in your chest that was pulling you to these… things

Donatello and Michelangelo watched you in curiosity in this weak state you resemble more of a shaken scared animal then whatever being you were taking on four mutant turtles in the alley thirty minutes prior suddenly the brothers all watched as Leonardo dropped to his knees in front of you staring you dead in your pitch black eyes

The feeling of a tug was no longer there as the feeling now pushed you roughly into this unfamiliar yet certain embrace and the veins under your eyes slightly faltering before you looked away from the Leaders gaze

You were fighting it he though amusingly

He took his hand bringing it up to your face to force you to old hold his gaze ignoring the hiss that erupted from your throat instead just steadily keeping your gaze and finally his brothers took note of what he was doing and followed in his steps coming Into and eye level position with you

Your pupils dilated, the veins vanished from your eyes, and your fangs retracted as you looked at all of them taking it in as a small voice in your head injecting familiar words into your brain

protect them

hold them

heal them

It was never the same from that day but you were… whole, complete.

💌💌💌💌

You were fighting over twenty foot soldier by yourself as the boys fought underground you were simply holding these ones off quickly discarding each that couldn’t seem to get a hand on you sweeping through the grounds with a speed quicker than light

You swept your foot under a masked man making him lose his balance falling on the concrete with a sickening crunch the last small group of soldiers came sprinting towards you and you fought the urge to roll your eyes

You held your hand out as they dropped to their knees some screaming in pain as others groaned and whimpered you held your hand there for a second before turning your wrist quickly as quaking cracks erupted the air around you as bodies fell to the floor limp

You turned on the heel of your boot as you went to open the manhole to the sewer two colossal vans surround both exits of the alley releasing large herds of assassins and soldiers yelling out random codes if Mikey or Raph were here they would squish or poke your cheeks because you ‘looked mean’

Not because you were a vampire over 300 years old and a menace to society

“Any last words freak?” One of the most formal dressed soldiers called out to you surrounded by a dozen more the whole herd pointed their assault rifles at you the red beams bouncing of your clothes you figured he was Lieutenant a weak one but a lieutenant nonetheless

“I do actually” You stated simply and you could see it took some of them back while you held your hands up in the air as a surrender as they waited for you to speak

💌💌💌💌

Raphael pulled himself and April through the crushed rocks and debris that had collapsed from the ceiling as they began to approach the end of the makeshift tunnel an ear piercing scream shook the gravel under their feet the red clad turtle smiled slightly before continuing his path as the brunette shakily stood in her spot

“Shouldn’t someone go help her” She questioned with a concerned look on her face as Ralph turned to look at her smirking before shaking his head before beginning to pull them the rest of the way out

“That’s a battle scream princess you know that out of anyone, nothing worried about” The terrapin knew if you were next to him you would definitely probably kick his ass for calling someone else one of your pet names but how he loves how you glared

April slightly shuttered at the thought to put it in a short term you didn’t get off on the right foot, you hated her when you first met to put it in the most appropriate words she could

💌💌💌💌

You fled around buildings at a inhuman speed looking for the four brothers you went down to the lair and hadn’t found them there Splinter how ever was wide awake and was the face you were met with when you hopped down from the tunnel so now here you were speeding from rooftop to rooftop trying to find the terrapins

“That guys gonna be drinking out of a sippy cup for months!” You listened closely around a mile away you could hear Donatellos voice tracking through the air over the voices, cars, and overall noise of New York

Inhuman speed and hearing just another benefit

“That’s what I’m talking about brother, shadows in the night completely unseen” Was the last statement you heard before a camera flash fluttered across the roof maybe catching your frame in the corner

You didn’t wait before in a blink in an eye you were in front of the girl taking her by the collar of her jacket railing over the roof dropping her onto the hard ground

“You think it’s okay to take pictures of people because they look different from you little girl?” You questioned as the brunette shook slightly in terror watching as your pupils dilated eyes turning pitch black while veins crawled actively underneath your eyes

“花/Hana” Leonardo tried softly sitting a three fingered hand on your shoulder as you snapped around to look at him giving him a soft hiss standing up to your full height from crouching over the girl which didn’t look like much compared to the over six foot turtle (flower)

“You said no more secret patrolling” You stated darkly walking towards the turtle with a slight threat in your step as he backed away the brothers winced they knew they weren’t safe either

“I kno-” The blue clad turtle began

“You all said if you patrolled again you would tell me first” You hissed again jabbing your finger into the leaders plastron as he chuckled nervously

“Listen trouble, we didn’t mean for it to happen like this were sorr-” You were in front of the red masked turtle with a blink of an eye April watched as you practically teleported in front of the turtle with a speed she couldn’t quite comprehend as a human

“Are you sorry because you did it or sorry because you got caught?” The brunette had a slight fear for the turtle beings you all knew each other no doubt as she watched the most buff turtle nervously laugh under your rough gaze

Raphael didn’t have time to respond as you were back in front of her dragging her to her feet and she could see the peak of your fangs as you spoke

“You are going to leave, and you aren’t going to tell anyone what you saw tonight. If you do I will find you” You were back in front of her now looking her directly in her eye’s pupils dilating as April let the feeling of her body take over she didn't have a say a foot forced one in front of another as she came back down the latter she came from beginning to walk the streets of New York

“Did you have to compel her?” Was the last thing the brunette heard as she began to walk home

💌💌💌💌

The pair made it out the tunnel as Raphael told the woman to stay put as she hid in Donatello's lab peeking from behind the door watching as the red clad turtle run off to go help his brothers

Leonardo attempted to go assist Splinter but he was soon stopped in his tracks as a small group of foot soldiers tased his scaley body as he spoke in soft groans falling to the floor at the harsh electrical impact shouting for his brother

“Hang on Leo, I'll be right there!” Donatello wanted to help his brother in the moment her really, trull did but it was a bit difficult when he was swinging his Bo-staff blocking bullets from assaulting his body as at least four different foot soldiers shot at him Raphael finally emerged from the shadows taking two of the men dressed in all black knocking their heads together holding out a hand for his brother

April watched as Shredder began gaining gaining the upper hand on Splinter throwing the rat on top of the dojos platform slowly strolling towards him steel claws slicing through the thick air that fell over the lair

Adrenaline pumping through the news reporters veins as she gripped and pulled on the handle on one Raph's sais that had gotten stuck in a wired basket before sprinting towards the armored bot like man stabbing him in the control system on his back as it sparked from the impact he turned around quickly

“You stupid little girl” The deep robot like voice degraded taking a threatening step towards the girl

“April!” Splinter called out quick to get back on his feet wrapping his long tail around the brunettes frame throwing her out of the dojo into safety as she landed with a whimper at the newfound pain in her ribs and forearm stumbling behind Donatello's steel desk out of the open

“Sensai!” Leonardo shouted sprinting towards his father as the rat landed near a concrete bared gate with a thud

“No, my sons stay back!” The mutant rat crawled to the small lever on the wall dropping the gate the terrapin began hitting his katanas against the bars watching as his father figure got dragged away by a metal fist before he scrambled loose limping back toward the gate

“NO,”

“Save yourselves!” He croaked

“Sensai, Dad! Dad! What are you doing!?” The blue clad turtle cried out

“Hide!”

💌💌💌💌

You watched as the turtles struggled to get the bar gate open from blocking the dojo you rushed over quickly holding your hand out raising it with a strain as the makeshift door slid open

They all looked back at you and could’ve sighed in relief they knew you could hold your on but as your mates they were always worried

The group of terrapins rushed in as their father was held in front of them shoulders slumped breathing shallow and irregular the only sign of life was pleading look in his eyes for them to run, to get away from here

“Drop you weapons or your… father dies” The gruff robotic like voice spoke into the air pausing in a moment of disgust as foot soldiers surrounded them

Just as the turtles were about to abandon their arms of defense a voice spoke out into the open

“You let them all go, or I’ll kill myself.” You stood above the railing looking down on the Dojo as the attention shifted towards you including shredder as his head turned with a metal shriek

“Y/n!”

“What the hell are you doin’!”

“Please!”

“No!”

To put together your statement you had a piece of wood from a broken leg chair directed in front of your heart and as you stepped forward a little into the light Donatello noticed the blood continuously seeping through your clothes

Why the fuck weren’t you healing?

“We both know what I am, that’s why some of your men have wooden bullets?” You questioned even though it was more of a statement and the terrapin’s stomachs dropped with nausea

you could only be killed with wood piercing you heart if one of the soldiers had just a few extra seconds then…

“We also know that I’m stronger than anyone in here so… you can get the turtles with me hunting you down, and not stopping until I’m tearing you apart or you can leave them and take me on your side” You couldn’t meet your mates gaze it would tear you apart so instead you looked dead into the black shield where the man’s eyes were supposed to be

Shredder dropped Splinter from his cold grasp and the turtles immediately began to protest as Raphael was quick to step forward two foot soldiers were quick to turn on their tasing wands with a threatening crack

Shredder suddenly jumped onto the platform above landing in front of you with as the ground trembled beneath you dressed in all silver armor he stared down at you and you made sure to hold his gaze as he held up his cold hand up to you face as his knives rested under your chin and you dropped the makeshift stake from your hands

“Turn it off, no further harm will come to them” He stated gruffly almost as if he was trying to comfort you he had done his research on your kind it was difficult and took years of critique but he’d mastered how to build up and break down your species you knew what he wanted Shredder didn’t have many things but he did have his word

“So, Turn it off.” He repeated

“No! 花/Hana” Leonardo struggled against the grip of four foot soldiers as they tased his plastron and you breathed in a shaky breath closing your eyes feeling tears slip down your cheeks as memories of all you together flashed through your mind (flower)

“Fuck! Princess don’t do it!” Raphael groaned out a yell on his hands and knees his figure jerking as shock waves spread through his body

“Please dove!” Donatello deeply whimpered probably getting the worst of it all as he shook at the taser on his shoulder a little too close to his neck

You opened your eyes and the assault on the turtles ended your expression was lifeless, like a never ending void that went on and on, that you couldn’t get out of.

“No” Michelangelo whispered breathlessly you were without your emotions, without a humanity.

You jumped from the platform into the main room of the lair taking a few steps forward before swiping your hand to the right in front of your body making foot soldier go flying some landing with sickening cracks as you went to stand in front of the turtles

“If you get in my way, I’ll kill you all myself” Leonardo watched as something lit in your eyes before it quickly died down to a nothingness

Shredder watch you with a slight… curiosity he wouldn’t allow you to kill terrapins that was simply against your deal but your emotionless state amused him

“Take care of your master” He stated gruffly and you held onto the silver armor before you were gone zipping through the lair and suddenly there was no trace of you Shredder included

“Fuck!” Raphael screamed into the empty air throwing the closest thing next to him which was a wired basket and hit the wall bending the metal

“Sensai, dad” Leonardo along with Donatello crawled over to the mutant rat who lied down on the floor in defeat pink tail slightly swaying against the floor with light ‘thumps’

“Please don’t do this, tell me what to do” The leader sniffled watching as his teacher, his protector in early years of life, his father seemed to crumble in his hold

“A little beating never stopped this old rat” The older mutant wheezed out while the purple clad turtle looked him over with his goggles a few cracked and bruised ribs wouldn’t be enough to put down Splinter and Leo and Donnie chuckled watery hearts still heavy

“You all need to go put a stop to the Shredders madness and rescue your mate” He stated carefully and all of the brother tuned in listening

“We can’t just leave y-”

“I’ve never informed you all of this because I was in… denial, self loathing even.” The rodent cut off the blue clad turtle and he knew that was a warning so he stayed quiet watching as he slowly raised his body to sit up

“When I was researching about the intertwining of souls I studied that the bond meant more than life itself. I was angered for a short time as your protector. It was… sore how once you found your mate that you would figure you all no longer needed me but then I was at peace knowing that a beings soul was yours to protect and vice versa. I could die tomorrow and as long as Y/n is unharmed you will all be fine and whole” The rat occasionally stopped in the middle of sentences to breathe in sharp breathes as the brothers listened closely water lines slowly filling including Raphael who stubbornly wiped it away

“What are you sitting around waiting for!? Go on now, if my daughter isn’t home by nightfall you all will be sent to the hashi!” Splinters tail threateningly swiped at their feet while Michelangelo laughed brightest out of them all as they began to run to the exit tunnel

Leonardo looked back to see April now at Splinters side as they helped each other with wounds and soon he was out of lair into the world

“Wait, I’m coming with you!” The brunette panted behind the four mutants standing in the alley

“Absolutely not it’s dangerous, and you’re hurt” The leader in blue immediately denied their mate wasn’t in a good headspace hell their mate didn’t have a sense of humanity last thing he needed was no be worried about another body to look after

“It’s a sprain light fracture at most and I have a ride it’s broad daylight how are you gonna get there without being seen?” She stated stubbornly and Ralph tried to cover a chuckle with a poorly concealed cough

“Fine. But you stay in the car”

💌💌💌💌

“Figuring the turtles will come to rescue Mrs Hamato-” Eric Sacks stood in front of you as you watched him walk through the lab going over the plan for the fourth time in a little less than an hour

“It’s Y/l/n I’ve said for the third time now stop threading on my patience Eric respect your elders or I will make a meal out of you” You we’re in front of the man in a blink of an eye hand wrapped around his throat at a bone crushing grip the man weakly nodded before you dropped him out of your hold and Shredder chuckled darkly in amusement while you went to go stand next to him

“We capture the turtles, take some of their blood. If it looks like you’re taking too much from them… I will end your life capeesh? Wonderful” You sarcastically smiled stepping out of the lab into the hallway

“If your emotions happen to get in the way of this, the deal will be off” The heavy metal softly shrieked in the quiet air as Shredder stood behind you and you sighed in annoyance

“I think what you fail to realize is when I turned off my emotions my humanity went with it I don’t feel mad or sad or anything” You briefly spoke before walking out of the man’s sight

💌💌💌💌

“Ram the gate” Raphael interrupted Verns ranting of course Aprils ride was a dweeb who talked their ear off nervously the whole car ride as the brothers began to get in position

“Ram the gate? This channel six propert-”

“I said ram the gate!” The red clad turtle yelled as the brunette man winced pressing his foot on the gas as the wood broke in piece against the van April and Vern who sat in the front seat ducked from the bullet breaking the windshield flying past their temples making a sharp turn running over some foot soldiers in the process

The turtles burst through the side of the Van Leonardo taking care of the few foot soldiers in front of him alone as the rest of them watch the terrapin flip through the air kneeling when he was done as Raphael rolled his eyes as they moved through the building

“Feeling flashy today Fearless?” The red clad turtle grunted out sarcastically settling to use his fist instead of his Sais and the leader shrugged with a small smirk on his face

“Watch he’s gonna do his Batman voice!” Mikey laughed handling his nunchucks lightly as they caused damage and destruction

“I watched that movie once!” He exclaimed as they all rushed through door they came into contact with four glass cages and the sound of heavy metal hitting the floor

“So we meet again turtles, the cages are for you” The bot stated dark jerking his arm down to reveal a claw full of knives and swords and Raph and Leo immediately took their swords from their holsters charging at the shredder and they quickly landed on the floor below

As Mikey and Donnie went to follow your whimper stop them in their tracks as they quickly looked around to finally spot you curled in a corner a stake plunged deeply into stomach as the pair ran over crouching over to your aid

“Donnie, Mikey, please.” You whimpered and their heart broke straight down the middle as you gripped onto the purple clad turtles forearm whispering something incoherent as he leaned his down to listen to you better suddenly you elbow connected to his jaw as he landed less than a few feet away from you stunned before scientist were quickly tasing him making sure he wouldn’t get up

“Jeez Angel cakes that was a low blow” Michelangelo was quick to get on his feet dodging the chair you tried to smash over his head as you quickly stood up snatching the stake out of your stomach dropping it to the side as your skin mended together healing itself

“Come on babe please don’t make me do this” The orange clad turtle pleaded as you hissed at him fangs on display, eyes pitch black, veins crawling under your eyes

“Fuck” He muttered to himself placing his nunchucks in their place on his belt ready to try to hurt you as least as possible even though he knew you could take it

Mikey along with Donnie were the fastest on the team with their more lanky and thinner figures they still however we’re not faster than you as Michelangelo tried to block a good amount of your hits until a sudden kick to his plastron had his stance faltering

You finished the fight with jerking your neck to the left as the youngest turtle slid in front of the scientist and was quickly held in the glass cage

The two weakest were out the way two more to go

You jumped down from the railing landing in front of the two blue and red brothers who had an upper hand on the Shredder they suddenly look towards you Raphael’s assault on the metal armor slightly faltering

“Miss me?” You mocked sweetly before taking a dagger from your boot throwing it to hit Leonardo’s shoulder if he had stood in place for a second longer Shredder took this as an invitation to to kick Raphael’s plastron from his position on the floor as the two were back at it

Leo had charged at you throwing you under all of his body weight he knew you easily lift him but it was a good distraction as you struggled under him before finally flipping positions as you straddled his waist throwing direct blows to his jaw

The blue clad turtle took you by your hip before flinging you off of him as you landed a few feet away you were a little slower than usual and not using your powers as much and the leader realized you were getting tired you were a heretic usually even if a vampire was witch before they transitioned they lost all of their magic but you were a siphon witch and now that you were a vampire you siphoned the energy from yourself

So it wore you out a little more when you used your magic and Leo couldn’t call the last time you had a blood bag which you had substituted from living people

“I told you to stay out of my way” You stated darkly holding a hand out as the leader dropped towards his knees groaning slightly

“Never, not while you like t-this. We’re always gonna be there for you” You through the terrapin up towards the ceiling dust and debris falling towards the ground as he landed with a harsh ‘thump’

“Shut up” You hissed swiping your hand through the air as he landed back on the floor above crashing into a cage as you stood in front of him moving your fingers to put the broken glass back in it place

“Raphael!” April screamed as she watched shrewder gain the upper hand on the hot you quickly sped to one of the now filled canisters sitting it in its brief case before you were out of the building

“Little girl” The man tainted darkly turning to look towards the brunette before Raphael stabbed his metal chest plate earning his attention back

“Focus on me” He grunted and would soon wince at the decision of words as he held onto the metal armored leg while Shredder began to slug his jaw repeatedly

“Donnie! Donnie!!” April screamed through the thick glass banging her hand against it roughly the fight or flight feeling pumping through her veins to heavily to wince at her sprained wrist as the mutant terrapin finally looked up at her glasses slowly sliding down his face

“What do I do!?” She questioned desperately as the turtle muttered something incoherent she pressed he ear to the to hear him better

“What!?”

“Adrenaline” He muttered his head slightly lolling forward as she rushed to the machines harshly tapping on the plus button for the adrenaline stimulation

Raphael struggled underneath the weighted pressure on his shell he could it creaking and cracking underneath the weight of Shredders foot as he finally fell from his knees and hands to his stomach before Vern turned away running towards April as She banged her fist against the machine

“GET UP!” She screamed anguished just beige the three turtles gasped at the air returning to their lungs Leonardo not as affected as he was last to get trapped

The turtles broke out of glass too much energy in their system to simply stand still as they flipped and ran in circles uttering and babbling nonsense

“OH I FEEL REALLY GOOD RIGHT NOW”

“DO YOU FEEL EXCITED IM SO EXCITED”

“I FEEL LIKE CLEANING, WHO WANTS TO CLEAN THE DOJO!? ILL CLEAN THE DOJO!”

“ENDORPHINS? ENDORPHINS!”

“WE HAVE TO GET RAPH!”

“RAPH!”

“RAPH!”

They turned ran into the railing causing it to cave under their weight making them fall to the next floor but they payed it no mind getting right back up helping their brother to his feet while they kept repeating the same question as he groaned to a stand

“ARE YOU OKAY!?”

“YOU ALRIGHT!?”

“YOU OKAY!?”

The terrapins explained to their brother why they had to go to the finishing each others sentences as they ran around him in circles

“Come on let’s do it for Sensai and Y/n” He stated deeply running out of the building his brothers hit on his tracks making up their on little game of ‘who can catch raphie first?’ he rolled his eyes at it but figured it would tire them out a little so he kept his legs moving

💌💌💌💌

The brothers made it on top of the building as You stood next to Shredder clicking the keys on the keyboard to initiate the toxin for release over New York

You didn’t take a second glance as Shredder turned skeins facing all four terrapins and it could’ve pulled a groan out of him

“Buy me some time… You break the deal and I’ll kill you” You stopped the armored man before continuing your journey of hacking through the systems

“cowabunga!” Michelangelo exclaimed as the turtles ran at Shredder before they were quickly kicked and put down to kiss the floor as Leonardo stood in front of him and he pulled his katanas from his back before nodding as the pair ran towards each other

Shredder slammed the leader on his shell getting a stomp on his plastron before attempting to throw a punch to his jaw the blue clad turtle dodged the hit repeatedly before blocking his face with his katana’s as the steel clacked against each other before the steel made man took him roughly by the shell throwing him off the side of the building

Donatello was next as he held his staff out and Shredder took to blades from each of his hands before putting them together to make double bladed wielding sword and the two clanked both weapons together but the purple clad turtle was soon to thrown off the building

Michelangelo was second to last trying to buy his older brother more time with his cracked shell as he swung his nunchucks freely using the the retractable blade on the side of them the stab into his armor and hop onto his back trying to weld the sharp steel back before he too was quickly thrown off the building with a speed high enough to get him whiplash

Raphael was last more of a distraction than anything as he wasn’t much of use alone parts of his cracked shell covered with duck tape he really wished you could heal him the moment and ended with the same fate as his brothers

Shredder turned back towards you walking back by your side as you set the timer for five minutes before the turtles were back on the building

Suddenly you were out of his sight with a blink of an eye but he paid it no mind as the turtles rushed at him one by one gaining enough momentum to push the armored man off the side of the building

“You know how to work this thing?” The red clad turtle stated gruffly as Donnie set his eyes upon to computer trying to find a place to start to decode it

“It’s a simple command line interface it hasn’t been used in fifteen years, I read about it online but this kind of thing takes time” He stated carefully typing on keys while Raphael watched as Shredder pull himself over the building onto is feet

“I’ll buy you some time” The red clad turtle along with his two other brothers blocked Donnie and themselves from being his blocking Shredders knives with their own defense weapon

“BAM! System disabled! Who wants Italian!? I’m buying! Tiramisu for everybody!” The purple clad turtle cheered soaking his hand flat down on the laptop before he was quickly cut off watching as Shredder called back his knives before throwing them back into the towers weak metal as the canister finally tipped over

“Fall in!” Leonardo shouted as the brothers rushed under the tower taking a corner groaning under the weight

“If the spire falls and the toxin makes a ground impact, it’ll contaminate a ten block radius” Donnie shouted out into the open trying to keep his mind off the weight on his shoulders quite literally

“What’s the odds of us stopping that from happening!?”

“Uhh 0.000000003%!”

“I’ll take it! Nobody moves no matter what.” The blue clad turtle stated finally as Shredder walked to the group Leonardo being his first target as he took a metal fist to the plastron without dropping his arms from holding the falling tower

Suddenly the armored man was pulled back with a force too strong to be human and the turtles could cry at the sight of you standing in all your glory holding a hand out as his metal shrieked against the floor dragging towards you as you put a foot on his metal chest plate

“You traitor” He said with a slight wheeze voice still deep and robotic like as you hummed before speaking

“I just don’t fancy the world going under a pandemic because of silly little chemical, you mortals truly amuse me… You will never be a god Oroku” You chuckled darkly and Leonardo realized you humanity still wasn’t on they’d have to fix that when this was all said and done

Without another word you jerked your neck as the man slid off the side of the towers and you approached the tilting towers and the terrapins felt the pressure leaving their shoulders as they watched you hold both of you hands out with a grunt holding the tower up putting back in place breaking the canister as the red air pressed against a sort of force field pressing back into itself before it finally distinguished

You dropped to your knees blood dripping from your nose as you panted heavily and the brothers rushed towards you bombarding you with questions touching you skin a hand was suddenly on your cheek before you were flooded with darkness

The brothers attentions snapped to April while she gasped loudly mutagen held in her hand as she had just watched the leader in blue snap your neck with a sickening crack

“woah, woah, slow yer’ role there. Vampire, immortal, can only die by a stake to the heart ring a bell by any chance? She’ll be up ready to kick my ass in an hour” Raphael questioned somewhat sarcastically before continuing with his infamous smirk on his face as the news reporters breath immediately slowed

“We gotta get out of here… Thank you O’Neil” Leonardo stated finally carrying your unconscious body in his arms and the brothers one by one said goodbye in their own way and the brunette watched as they finally jumped from one building onto the next the people on the ground below too focused on Shredders unconscious body to see the four mutants silhouettes gone into the light of day

She knew however they would see each other again

💌💌💌💌

“It’s been four days Donnie” Raphael huffed pacing back and forth as they all watched you on the nanny cam or vamp cam as Mikey called it you were tied to a chair shoulders slumped, vervain pumping through your veins, and slowly healing

“It’s tedious process Raph I’m trying to speed it up as most as we can” The purple clad reminded his brother pushing his glasses up on his face

The was the problem the process was too tedious and they all remembered the stages you had to go through so they could find a crack in your humanity

First they had to weaken you which is what called for the vervain pumping through your system like as a makeshift IV Then they had to cause you pain and it was hard for all of them but after multiple days seeing not doing so hot you all know where they were a little less reluctant to, trying to make you feel any emotion possible anger, rage, anything.

But you however figured out very soon that the brothers couldn’t actually do any serious damage to you around four hours ago

💌💌💌💌

You screamed out a groan in agony as Leonardo held the shutter to the window open letting the sun lay on your skin burning you while you struggled against your restraints squirming your daylight ring sitting on the table across the small room that kept you able to walk in the sun freely before finally shutting it waking to stand next to his brother

“You’re gonna thank us for this, once you turn it back on, you realize life of no emotions blew” Raphael stated gruffly before you cut him off

“You knew what else blew? Having to worry about your every move and baby you just because you don’t follow simple directions” That was a low blow but the red clad turtle didn’t let it show on his face as he nodded a sarcastic smirk on his lips as he rolled his eyes

There was a small silence before you were suddenly out of the chair opening the shutters letting your skin burn as you screamed Leonardo quickly rushed to fire extinguisher blowing the cold foam over you blazing body as you dropped to floor wheezing out a chuckle

“I’m the girl you love, I’m your mate. You wouldn’t do anything to actually hurt me you just proved that. So what do I really have to be afraid of?” You stated dryly as Michelangelo and Donatello rushed through the door having watched everything on camera and after the purple clad turtle made sure you were okay he dragged to your feet your arms behind your back before finally sitting you back in the steel chair sticking the needle connected into a tube that connected to the main IV and he made sure up dosage on how much Vervain solution pumped into your bloodstream as you let your head fall backwards sighing deeply and the four brothers left a room without another word

💌💌💌💌

Mikey now sat in the corner on the floor in the fan room as it was his turn to watch you for the night and when he heard you rattling against your chains he knew everything was in motion and just how he expected you were in front of him in a flash not as fast as you usually were with all the vervain in your system but it would do

You pulled him up to his feet and without another word he felt your fangs pierce his neck vision getting a bit blurry as you took blood from him and he soon fell to his on all fours before rolling on his back breathing heavily

“Oh come on I barely drained an artery. Come on get up I’m hungry, my heads fuzzy, I can’t think straight I need more.” You taped his side with your foot ushering him back to his feet as he continued to lie in his unmoving position

“Y/n stop” The orange clad turtle raised his head to lol at you for a second before falling back to the floor with a thud as you mocked for forgiveness

“But you’re so good” Just as you dragged the youngest brother to his feet ready to bight the jugular of his neck you were pushed against the wall your head slamming roughly against the concrete

“Hey! You’re cut off, done! Stop it!” The leader in blue growled in your ear as you struggled against his grip screaming at him for you to let him go

“‘Nough” Raphael stated loud enough for your attention to shift towards him as he shoved Donnie away from checking over Mikey’s body dragging his little brother to his feet as his head fell to the side eyes struggling to stay open

“Yer, actin’ like a little spoiled brat you know that? You think we cant punish you? Maybe not but I can sure punish him”

“You seriously think this is gonn-”

“Shut up! I’m done playin’ nice. Turn yer’ emotions back on Y/n or so help me God I will give ya’ somethin’ ta’ be sad about, I will kill him right in front of you” The red clad turtle cut you off gripping his younger brothers frame against his

“Raphael” Leonardo started

“Don’t Raphael me, she don’t love anyone? Fine prove it, and If I’m wrong what difference does it make? He’ll be outa my hair.” He dropped the orange clad turtle to his knees as he incoherently groaned and whimpered looking towards you for a response

“You’re bluffing.” Not a second later you watched as the red clad turtle twisted Michelangelo’s neck the sickening crunch bouncing off the walls as he fell limp to the floor Leonardo let you out of his hold and you gasped taking a step forward before rushing over to him scrambling to take a seat as you cradled his head you head in your lap

“How ‘bout now you feelin’ anything now? You angry I just turned your buddy into roadkill?” As you took quiet gasps running your hands over his scaled face having taken his orange mask of as sat on the floor beside you

“Or are sad that the guy that everybody loves is just a bag of bones? Trying to imagine when he was a little kid? Warm heart, big goofy smile, brightest laugh, biggest imagination” Raphael pressed as You choked out a silent sob while you pressed your forehead to Mikeys and the apologies spurting from your tongue would never be enough you thought

“My baby, my baby.” You sobbed hardly chest aching heart pounding in your ears and Raph crouched down to meet your eye level

“It’s a good thing he’s wearin’ this then right?” He lifted the youngest terrapins arm to bring in your line of sight and what was on it was a T-pad that Donnie had been working on and he pressed the button of the realistic ‘crunch’ that had sounded through the air

“You feel that weight lifting off yer’ chest? That’s joy ‘cause he ain’t dead, that’s emotion baby, that’s humanity” You took a sharp breath in letting the rest of your tears fall down and Leonardo dropped to his knees behind you wrapping an arm against your shoulder

“You’re okay 花/Hana everyone’s okay” The leader shushed you (flower)

“Why isn’t he waking up?” You sniffled hopelessly looking up towards Donnie as he sadly look down at you before doing the same as his brother taking a seat next to you pressing a kiss to your forehead

“Just a little blood loss he’ll be fine, you can speed it up if you want” He spoke quietly and quick you brought your wrist to to your lips biting into your flesh before you pressed it to Mikey’s mouth letting the blood coat his lips and slide down his throat

“I’m so sorry, I was just trying to protect you I didn’t mean for this to happen for the first time in centuries I was actually scared. I-I didn’t know what to do” Donatello read your vitals starting to come down you were just in a bit of shock it was expected

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself Angel cakes if it made you feel better that was totally hot” The orange clad turtle spoke from his position and rushed to hold him tightly his skin mended together the only thing left was smeared blood against his neck

“Can’t believe that plan actually worked, yer a little wuss you know that?” Raphael’s voice cracked slightly eyes watering as you stared up at him with a relieved watery look on your face and that’s all it took for the buff raging red turtle to join in the forming turtle pile around you

💌💌💌💌

WOO after about just under a week and a half of writing I’m done

*cracks neck*

time to take another three week break 😊

[specialagentlokitty]

Carlisle x reader - always

hi! can i request where carlisle is married to reader who’s a mikaelson and the other cullens call her mom. then when the war between the volturi she was there with the other mikaelsons (to protect the cullens and others) and they’re just being the badass siblings like they are?? - Anon💜

You were away visiting your siblings when you got the phone call that you had to come home as soon as possible.

The Volturi were at it again, and this time it was aimed directly and Renesme, they were going after an innocent child and you were furious.

Throwing your stuff in your bag, you grabbed your keys and rushed towards the front door.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Rebekah asked.

She’s never seen you in such a hurry, not unless there was someone you love in trouble.

“Carlisle’s family are in danger.”

“Volturi?” Elijah asked.

You nodded your head and he sighed, grabbing his jacket and he pulled it on.

“Niklaus let’s go!” Elijah called out.

“Where too?”

You looked at your twin and explained everything to him and he growled lowly, grabbing his car keys as well.

“Kol we’re going let’s go!” He shouted.

Your other brother came rushing out and they followed you.

You didn’t have much time, and you didn’t care about the stupid laws about driving, you easily got out of every situation.

You had states to cross, and you needed to be sure that you were going ti be on time, because if you weren’t who knows what aro and his goons were going to do.

“How long do we have?” Elijah asked.

You flicked your gaze over to him and shrugged slightly.

“I don’t know, I haven’t heard from Carlisle since he asked me to come home.”

Elijah have you a gentle smile.

“He’ll be okay.”

“I can’t be sure about that, he’ll do anything for his coven, even if it means putting his life at risk and I can’t let him do that.”

Elijah nodded his head.

He knew how much you loved Carlisle, sure, they weren’t vampires quite like you lot were, they were a result of the mutation in the vampires venom somewhere along the way, but they were similar.

You finally got to forks and you rushed into the house to find it empty, but it reeked of many other vampires.

“Where to?” Kol smirked.

He wanted a bit of violence, he was always down to fight, kill, especially if it was for you.

“Here this was left on the table.” Klaus said walking through.

He handed you the letter and you slowly opened it.

‘(Y/N), my love. I’m unsure if you’ll get this on time, but come to the clearing where I first told you I loved you. Please hurry.’

You looked at your family and narrowed your eyes a little bit.

“Let’s go.”

It only took minutes to get there, and when you did everyone turned to you all.

There was whispers among both sides.

“Impossible!” Cauis yelled.

You marched right through the side that had gathered to help your family, and right over to the middle of the field.

“Hello Cauis.” You snarled.

“Why are you here dearest (Y/N)?” Aro smiled.

“To rip you limb from limb obviously.” Kol grinned.

Aro stepped back just a tiny bit, but you noticed.

You could see the fear in the Volturi.

“Kol.” Elijah warned.

Klaus stepped by your side and he snarled, staring down the group of vampires in front of you all.

“You are not the kings of this world, you have no right to decide what rules should be followed!” He bellowed.

“And you do?!” Cauis yelled back.

You stepped forward this time, making them shrink back under the sheer cold fury of your gaze.

“Yes! We are the originals! And you will bow down to us!”

The Volturi shared a look, some knelt, but others didn’t.

“SHE SAID BOW DOWN!” Kol screamed.

Everyone else immediately dropped, including the self proclaimed kings of the vampire world.

You waltzed over and crouched down, giving them a twisted smirk which made them shiver as your eyes turned red.

“If you ever dare lay a hand on the Cullens, or step out of line once more I’ll make your death the most painful thing you’ve ever experienced…” you snarled.

Kicking aro back, you tossed Cauis in the same direction and turned to Marcus.

“Leave.”

“Of course…”

He bowed his head in respect and soon enough the group was gone and you turned around to your siblings.

“We can always chase them.” Kol grinned.

“Leave them, if they step out of line again then do it.”

He nodded his head.

You looked past them and the smile and laughing group celebrating their victory.

“You came…” Carlisle whispered.

You ran over and stood in front of him, giving him a soft smile as you reached out and gently touched his cheek.

“Of course I did love, I’m sorry it took so long.”

Carlisle leant into your touch and shook his head at you.

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you made it.”

He quickly pulled you in for a hug and held you tightly, you laughed and hugged him back.

Your siblings came over and all stood watching the scene play out.

Sure, they were your family.

But so we’re the Cullens.

“Thank you mom.” Edward smiled.

You looked over at him and winked.

“You’re all part of the Mikaelson family.” You said.

“And we Mikaelsons stick together.” Rebekah grinned.

Yeah, they were part of the original family now, it was going to take some time to get used to, but they had never felt more protected