#and then his mind broke from the centuries of being forced to be happy and he went insane but that's something else

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in forgiveness.

The puppet’s plan to save you by deleting himself from the world did not work. You were dead and would remain dead for all of eternity. You were never to be given a second chance, yet he received one, now going by the name Wanderer.

Wanderer had begun to heal, very, very slowly from not only your death but his own past life with the help of the Dendro Archon, but there was not a day where Wanderer didn’t think of you. Sometimes for a little while, sometimes for a long time. Though Wanderer had always kept your gift close to him. The comb you had given him had endured throughout time, not without challenges though. You had given it to him as a good luck charm before he set off on that fateful day. Some of the teeth had been chipped or even broken off. Wanderer always treated it with the utmost care, but time is everything’s greatest enemy, even to immortals.

More recently, Wanderer had decided to create a small doll of you. It was necessary for him, it was a way to cope and come to terms with your death. He remembers centuries ago, you said you had always wanted to see the world. To leave the little village you called home and see Teyvat for yourself. It’s not the same, but perhaps this could be some sort of atonement for letting you die. You’ll be able to see the beautiful sights that he sees with him. Maybe that would make you happy, wherever you were. He would not tell anyone how much time he put into it, for it was an embarrassingly long time. Every stitch and every detail was planned carefully, even making multiple pairs of clothing for you. He didn’t often use them though, but perhaps it was a way to keep his mind off other things. 

Nowadays, Lesser Lord Kusanali had begun to assign him to some bothersome tasks, which he reluctantly carried out. Though, it was mostly a front. He didn’t mind as much as he grunted and scoffed about it. And, Wanderer knows without a doubt that you would adore Nahida. So, he really didn’t mind being the Archons’s shadow. Ah, and the Aranara too, you would absolutely fawn over them. If he was Kabukimono, he would too.

But right now he was taking a break at his usual local cafe. This had become a sort of routine for Wanderer. It was nothing out of the ordinary now. Plus, the coffee here was not bad. The puppet was enjoying his solitude, away from the noise of others when a voice broke his tranquility.

“Hello, is this seat taken?” Wanderer's eyebrow twitched at the disturbance. Couldn’t this person read the room? He thought it would be quite obvious that he preferred to be left alone. He cracked an eyebrow open to retort the person but the sight of them made every part of his body freeze up, and the words died in his throat. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. If he were holding his cup of coffee, he would have dropped it.

For you were standing in front of him again. 

There were not many times Wanderer has been left speechless, for he always has some kind of response to everything, but not this time. What could he say, when confronted with the love of his life after over four hundred years of their death?

“Hello?” You tilted your head, beckoning for a reply. A nervous but genuine smile eased its way onto your lips. “Would you mind if I sat here with you?” Wanderer forced himself to regain his composure.

“…Do what you want.” That came out harsher than the puppet wanted it to, but his stern way of speaking had long been the norm for him. 

“Okay, thanks,” you smiled once again, tension in your shoulders leaving as you pulled out the chair. That smile of yours. That smile was all too familiar. Every part of his body was debating the possibility of this being you. Oh, how he longed for it to be you, but he couldn’t be sure that this was you. It must be just an uncanny resemblance to the you from centuries ago. Because you, [Name], were dead, and you were never coming back.

You began to search through your bag, looking for something. He got a peak of the contents, and there lay some Lavender Melon wrapped up to savor later for a snack. He gritted his teeth at the similarities before deciding to study you more. Your clothes had traditional aspects of Inazuma but also incorporated some styles from Sumeru. Perhaps you were on a trip? His question wasn’t left unanswered for long.

“You know, this is my first day in Sumeru. It’s so much bigger and livelier than I thought,” you hummed happily. “So I thought, the first thing I should do was try some of the local food! I heard it’s quite delicious,” you grinned again finding the Mora pouch in your bag. Then a look of realization appeared on your face. “Oh! How silly of me, rambling to a complete stranger. I’m [Name], by the way.” 

[Name].

[Name].

[Name].

[Name]. The name that had haunted and lingered with him for so long, had come back to the present day. Wanderer’s breath hitched as he could not help but feel a wave of emotions at the reality of the situation. You were back. You were alive again, happy and smiling, looking as if nothing had changed at all. Granted, there were still a few small differences from your past self, but it was wholly and authentically you. [Name]. There was no denying it, and he found himself boring his eyes into your figure. You were still so pretty, so attractive, your beauty not changing throughout time. The way you furrowed your eyebrows as you read through the menu, licking your lips in anticipation of digging into some yummy cuisine.

Wanderer wonders if you still like to cook, the same way the old you loved to. He wonders if you’ll recognize the techniques the old you taught him, how to cut and peel vegetables. Wanderer does it with ease now, no longer cutting his fingers clumsily as Kabukimono did. He wonders if you’d like his own cooking. Much of his knowledge of cooking came from you. He wants to see your face light up in excitement as you relish and praise him for how good he’s gotten without you. If he cooked you the same foods you ate together from those days, how would you react? If he showed you the comb, would you remember? If you remembered, would you forgive him for how he let you die all those years ago? Wanderer’s mind was overloaded with questions. 

He had gone through unspeakable things, but he was extremely strong now, at least stronger than Kabukimono. Wanderer thinks you’ll never be hurt ever again, not by any Treasure Hoarders, Fatui, Kairagi, Nobushi, Hilichurls, or whatever other monsters Teyvat has to offer. No, so long as he watched over you from afar, you would never be injured. But, he questions himself, does he truly deserve this opportunity? No, the better question was, do you deserve to have to deal with him, with him being the person he is now? You looked perfectly fine without him, oblivious to the way he had been suffering for so long after your death. Oblivious to the sins that coated his hands. At the very least, you didn’t meet him while he was Scaramouche. He probably would not have been a good lover to you back then. Your voice interrupted his thoughts. 

“This is my first time trying Sumeru’s coffee. Is it good?” His chest panged once again at how similar your words were spoken now as compared to a few hundred years ago. Wanderer remembers the exact moment, in the bath when you spoke about trying Sumeru’s coffee with him, as if it was yesterday…

“It’s alright,” Wanderer kept his tone neutral despite his thoughts.

“Oh really? Is it bitter or sweet?”

“Neither, it is a good balance. But… I always ask for mine to be extra bitter,” Wanderer admitted to you. Normally, he would never have even entertained a conversation with a stranger, but in a way, you were not a stranger to him.

“Extra bitter, huh? And that doesn’t bother you? Interesting,” you smiled, gaining interest in the conversation as you leaned in closer to him. “I don’t think I could ever handle that!” Wanderer knew that already. In Tatarasuna, you could never stomach the taste of such bitterness. Another look of realization crossed your face as you giggled to yourself.

“It just hit me, I introduced myself but I never asked you. What’s your name?” You smiled once again beautifully, Sumeru’s sun illuminating your features. Wanderer etched your expression forever into his mind before he spoke.

“Just call me… Hat Guy,” Wanderer did not know why he chose to say that name out of all, and he had to stop himself from cringing at himself.

“H-Hat Guy…?” You repeated. You were dead silent for a few seconds before you erupted in laughter, which sounded oh-so-familiar to him, and made his ‘heart’ sing. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle your giggles. “Ah- ahahaha! I didn’t take you for a guy who likes to joke!”

Wanderer didn’t know how things would go from here, but as the wind carried your laugh away, he felt truly at peace after a very, very long time.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[luminiamore]

𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖔𝖚𝖘

a stefan salvatore love story.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗

belladonna

Walking along the misty street of Mystic Falls was, ironically, a mystical woman. She walked without shoes, relishing the sensation of the ground beneath her feet. Her white dress flowed with the movements of the wind. Belladonna has just returned from the deep woods, where she had spent time practicing and creating new spells. Resurrection of the dead was her latest discovery, and that was over a hundred years ago. Her boredom was existentially intense.

She thought to herself as she walked. She could create a new species. Do banshees exist? She put a stop to her walking as she thought of an answer to her own question. They do, she remembers encountering an offspring of her first creation.

Ghouls? Since the fifth century. Demons? Been there, done that. Unicorns? Despite being on a different level of consciousness, they still exist.

She wanted to continue contemplating, but something else caught her attention. She walked by a boy who was sitting on the ground in front of what seemed to be a restaurant. The Mystic Grill? How original. Belladonna is not very fond of human interactions, but this boy seemed far too young to have that lost look in his eyes. It caused her stomach to churn, and she couldn't stand it for some reason.

She stopped right in front of him, but he didn't even seem to notice her.

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice you were alone. Would you like some company?"

His eyes brimmed with tears as he finally looked up. He gave a shrug and shifted himself from his spot on the floor, allowing her to sit. They remained silent for a moment. Belladonna didn't force him to speak until he felt ready to do so. He was grateful for that, for the motherly vibe she exuded.

He broke the silence, albeit defeatedly, "Why are you willingly keeping me company? Is there something you want? Because if you're looking for drugs, I'm all out."

She snorts, "Sweetheart, I have access to drugs you don't even know exist."

Jeremy gives his own laugh, thinking she's joking.

She actually wasn't.

He started up at her with anticipations, and so she sighed, giving him an honest response.

"You appear as though you could use some uplifting. I thought I might be the one to provide that for you."

"Why?" He doesn't ask this offensively but out of pure curiosity. Why? Why him?

"You remind me of someone I once knew. He had that same look in his eyes, a gaze lost and empty. You seem far too young to carry such a weight in your expression." She leaves it at that.

Jeremy is aware that she won't go into detail, but truthfully, that was enough to make him cry and lean against her shoulder without delay. How comforting. He has never had such a feeling before. She wraps her arm around his shoulder, and in that split second.. she feels it. She sees it, actually. She has a vision of his entire life flashing across her mind, like a T.V. show. Strange.

The hardships this boy has gone through, his attempt to numb everything with useless pills, and his depression. She can feel it- see it all. She couldn't handle the fact that this boy was not happy.

"Believe it or not, I know exactly what you've been through." She whispers against his ear, arms tightening around him.

"How?" There's a crack in his voice when he questions her. She finds it unbearable.

Belladonna ponders an answer. She has a feeling that she can trust. So she doesn't hesitate much before responding.

"Do you believe in the supernatural?" She hums.

"Been interested in that stuff my whole life, really. What, are you gonna tell me you're a witch or something?"

He smiles as if he were telling a joke, but it slowly dissipates when she doesn't offer any rebuttals. Silence. Certainly noticeable. When Jeremy gazes up at the woman, he sees her struggling to prevent an endearing smile.

"..You're a witch?"

"The very first, if we're being specific." A smirk graces her full lips.

His surprise makes her release a beautiful laugh, and Jeremy can't help but follow after her.

"But you look.. no offense, no older than 20. How is that even possible?"

"That is the furthest thing from offensive. I am immortal, which means I am untouched by the passage of time and therefore cannot die."

"How long have you been alive?" Jeremy never once separated himself from her shoulder during their conversation, as he feels truly at ease in her embrace.

"For eons now. I was born in the A.D. period, somewhere around the year 222, if I recall correctly. The exact date has, admittedly, slipped my mind a few times." However, by her expression, Jeremy noticed she didn't seem too bothered by this.

Jeremy pauses before responding, taking in the information she just shared with him. Sitting next to him was an anchor immortal witch. You don't see or hear that every day.

"May I pose a question to you?" She whispers, slowly lowering her head to lean on his. Belladonna feels incredibly protective of this kid she's met less than thirty minutes ago.

"Sure."

"Why are you sitting here, alone and seemingly on the verge of tears?"

Jeremy's breath shook, and he suddenly recalled the exact reason for being outside the grill in the first place. He was surrounded by loneliness. Today was his first day back at school, and he has a strong dislike for it beyond words. He had a habit of reliving his sister's overbearing and judgmental behavior toward him because of his coping choices, as if it was a broken record. He longed to end it, and he longed to get rid of the strange ache in his heart. It appears to him that he has no will to keep living.

He breathes out, steadying his thoughts as he responds, "Today was really exhausting for me.."

Knowing it was safe to do so, he proceeded to tell her everything. In their brief twenty-minute encounter, he felt seen, more than he's ever been ever since his parents died. Belladonna merely listens, rubbing his shoulder to provide comfort, humming to reassure him that she is here and not going anywhere. To reassure him that she's not making judgments but rather just listening. She thinks that's what he needs—someone who is willing to listen.

"Thank you for that." He finishes off.

"For what?"

"For not saying anything. For just listening." It feels like it's only the two of them right now. The steps and the chatter from the people coming in and out of the grill are almost nonexistent.

"Of course, Jeremy."

"Y'know, I never told you my name."

"Witch, remember?" Bella chortles. She looks up at the stars, and they immediately tell her that she needs to leave. The ball was happening soon; she had to get ready.

"I should take my leave now, but I must say I enjoyed your company." She begins, and she can feel the tenseness Jeremy is now harboring at her words.

"Or, you could accompany me to my destination. It's a ball, an event I presume you have yet to experience." She continues with a light, teasing tone.

"It's the 21st century, and people still have formal balls?"

"Now, that is something which I find offensive." She utters with a smile as Jeremy wipes his tears and gives a hearty laugh.

"My sisters and I are of the belief that this town could benefit from a touch of refinement, so we decided to host one."

Jeremy slightly lowers his head in embarrassment, " I don't think I could. I don't actually own a suit."

"Nonsense. I'll procure one for you en route. Now, up you go. We have but an hour to ready ourselves."

Jeremy heeds her words and rises onto his feet at the same time she does, and just before they start walking, he speaks once more, "You may not look ancient, but your way of speaking sure gives it away."

"My, aren't you perceptive. It seems even the youngest among us can recognize the weight of centuries in one's words. How charming."

"..Was that your attempt at sarcasm in ancient speak?"

"Truly, your perceptiveness knows no bounds."

chapter three. chapter five

[merganalogy]

Part 7

Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Still in 2010 (July)

Merlin sat on the floor by his bed, a notebook balanced on his knees and a pen clutched in his hand. The soft glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm light over the pages filled with his neat, precise handwriting. He was lost in his thoughts, completely absorbed in the words flowing from his pen. The silence of his small apartment was punctuated only by the occasional scratch of the pen against paper.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the quiet, startling him. "Have you lost your damn mind!?"

Merlin jerked. The pen stilled in his hand as he lifted his head up, his wide eyes meeting the gaze of the speaker. His breath caught in his throat, a mixture of shock and confusion playing across his face.

It was Morgana, standing in the doorway, her eyes blazing with anger. Her sudden, furious question had shattered his focus entirely. Merlin felt his pulse quicken, his mind scrambling to process her words and her presence.

Should he be happy that, unlike their usual pattern of years apart, it hadn't taken an eternity for them to meet again this time?

Mere months instead of half centuries.

He needed to focus, he could be happy later for now needed to know why she was angry.

"I—uh, what?" he stammered, blinking rapidly. He took a moment to push himself up from the floor. "What are you talking about?"

Morgana’s eyes narrowed, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said, her tone icy. "You’re delving into black magic. You know how dangerous that it…"

His eyes widened further, “How did you know?”

The moment he uttered the words, he instinctively grasped the answer.

It was Aithusa. He should have known better especially after what Morgana had told him last time they had seen each other.  

The dragon cared too much about him.

How much did the dragon share?

Morgana took a deep breath, her anger giving way to a deeper hurt. “Why would you do this? Why would you care?”

Everything, it seemed.

Merlin’s shoulders sagged, the weight of the truth pressing down on him. “You know why. I just want to find a way to keep you safe…” He felt a lump form in his throat, “Even if your magic is what’s keeping you alive and preventing your body from aging, you can still get hurt, you can still…”

He gained extensive knowledge about the rituals Aithusa had conducted to save Morgana’s life and he came to the realization that without magic, Morgana was constantly at risk.

It was truly miraculous that she had survived all these years.

Morgana took a deep breath, her anger giving way to a deeper hurt. “…die.” She finished for him. “I didn’t ask you to do this.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He just nodded his head. It was all that he could do.

Though she hadn't explicitly requested it, given the immense pain he had caused her and the suffering he had subjected her to over the years, he felt compelled to do everything in his power to keep her safe.

It seemed like the least he could offer—protecting her.

It might not have been much, but if it meant using black magic to restore her abilities, wasn't it justified?

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head, the pain evident in her expression. Once again, he was causing her anguish, unintentionally inflicting hurt even when he didn't intend to.

 “How do you think that makes me feel, Merlin?” She asked, then she was quiet for a few seconds before adding, “If this is about you being alone...We have talked about this, Merlin. Forget about the past. You need to move on. Go out, make new friends and get a job,find a girl, and ask her on a date-”

“It’s not about that.” He gently interjected to redirect the conversation. He didn’t know why Aithusa had sought Morgana yet again despite his orders.

He sympathized with the dragon's concern, but it was becoming excessive, particularly considering Morgana's reluctance to meet with him. He didn’t want to force her to do something she was uncomfortable with.

She had made it clear to him that his mere presence was enough to upset her and he was determined to respect her wishes of staying away.

Morgana shot him a sceptical glance, silently conveying her disbelief in his words.

“I am not. Truly.” He insisted, feeling unease discussing this with Morgana, “In fact, I have a date tomorrow. She wanted…We’re going to see a film.”

In the blink of an eye, her expression transformed from one of hurt to a playful grin, leaving him bewildered by the rapidity of her emotional shift. She sensed the subtle tension in the air when he corrected himself.

“A film? What is it called?”

He shouldn’t tell her. Or better yet, he should just lie.

“Twilight something. She said it was the third one.”

Despite her best efforts to conceal it, a mischievous sparkle danced in her eyes, betraying the amusement she was desperately trying to suppress. Her grin grew wider.

He should not have told her. And most importantly, why were they deflecting?

They had an imperative matter to discuss other than this.

“How old is she?”

He gave up, “Old enough to know better.”

Morgana burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. However, Merlin, though trying to maintain his composure, couldn't hide his annoyance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he attempted to stifle his own smile.

He missed that sound.

He pondered whether she shared the same sense of isolation as he did, but he understood he could never broach that topic with her. She had made it clear she didn't want him to delve into her inner world. Even the prospect of rekindling their friendship felt like an insurmountable barrier for her.

At the moment, he resigned himself to her playful teasing, hoping to persuade her to explore alternative methods for freeing her magic at a later time. “You clearly heard of them, so don’t be like that!”

“Have you watched the first two?”

“No…” He shook his head. Did he have to?

“Well, you need to be prepared. We’re going to watch the first two tonight.”

From this list, send me a prompt if you’d like.

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

little flower - chapter three

pairing: hades!Kim Namjoon x persephone!Female Reader word count: 8149 warnings: fluff, angst, smut, multiple pov, zeus!jin, hypnos!jimin, charon!kook, thanatos!yoongi, cerberus!monie, big dick dom joon, explicit language, doggy style, vaginal sex, creampie, hints of virginity/corruption kink series masterlist A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

As he walked closer to the central hall Namjoon could hear the noise of boisterous conversations and laughter, the noise of music filling the air. Noise that gradually stopped as he stepped into the golden-floored hall.

As the silence filled the room the king of the Underworld looked around the hall, taking notice of how each and every god and nymph was staring at him, some with mouths agape but all of them with eyes wide with shock, confusion, and some even with curiosity and fear.

A part of the god of the Dead wasn't surprised, their reactions being exactly what he expected after centuries of being on the receiving end of the same treatment. The other part felt sadden for the same reason, mostly at himself, for having a small glimpse of hope that anything would be different.

With a roll of the eyes and a deep sigh, he started walking once again, passing through one of the twenty golden tripods automotones crafted by Hephaestus and grabbing a glass of ambrosia for himself. Walking towards the one god that he was willing to engage with, the Lord of Riches took notice of every person that stepped away from him or from his path, his ears picking up every not-so-secret murmur and whisper thrown his way, simply shrugging them off as he knew allowing himself in reactions he had long since gotten used to would only lead him down the dark paths of his mind, it would only be a waste of his supposedly break.

Once he reached the throne that stood center against the wall Namjoon bowed to the deity in front of him, after all, despite being a king himself that didn't he wouldn't show respect to the ruler of Olympus.

At the sight Zeus's brow arched and stood from his seat, automatically silencing the entire hall, going down the small flight of stairs and standing in front of the king of the Underworld for a couple of seconds, his face impassive before his lips broke into a smile and he took the taller one in an embrace, one which was reciprocated.

"It's great to see you after so many years," the king of the Gods said untangling himself from the hug, a grin that could light up the entire room on his features. "When Taehyung told me he had invited you I was sure that you weren't going to show up," placing one of his hands on Namjoon's back Seokjin looked around the hall. "What's with the silence? This is supposed to be a feast," at the words the noise returned as if it had never disappeared to begin with. The hand on the god of the Dead's back pushed him a bit forward, pulling the other's attention back to the god of the sky. "Now come, I'm sure I'm not the only one you'll be happy to see you."

'It sure feels like it' the Lord of Riches almost said, choosing instead to take a swing from his drink as he let Jin take him to where he wanted him to go. As they walked the constant feeling of everyone's eyes watching his every move attached itself to Namjoon, like they were vines that attached themselves to houses, forcing him to make himself believe that the reason why people step away from their path was due to the respect held for Zeus, he had to make himself believe in that reasoning, it was the only way for him to get through the evening.

"I said this before but I was genuinely surprised when I saw you," the king of the Gods said with a wide grin, giving nods of acknowledgment whenever a lower god or nymph bowed to him, if he either ignored or was oblivious to the glares they would send Namjoon's way the king of the Underworld couldn't tell. "I thought you'd be too busy to mingle with us from Olympus."

"Decided to take a break and visit the family," the god of the Dead said in a sarcastic tone as he took another sip of ambrosia. "It was the only way for Taehyung to leave my realm."

Jin hummed. "Did he do the pinky promise?"

"Yup," he said, adding emphasis on the p, taking another swing of his drink until the glass was empty, leaving it on a nearby surface without much attention on his part. "Once he started with that I told him to leave, had a lot of work to go through, and couldn't waste any time on indulgence."

The king of the Gods snorted. "You say that but even I know you let him get away with a lot," pulling his hand away from the other's back Jin started walking ahead. "But enough about him, there are people who'll be thrilled to see you and I've made them wait long enough."

Namjoon couldn't help the skepticism that penetrated his bones, his brows furrowed at the words, almost as if they had been spoken in a dialect unknown to him. However, when he saw who the people were he stopped in his tracks, the skepticism was replaced by a sense of slight happiness and familiarity, to the point he couldn't help the smile that graced his features.

Not counting the god of the sky, there stood four deities, one god and three goddesses, all of them with different types of smiles on their faces - two genuine, one forced, and one barely visible.

As the king of the Underworld stepped forward so did the god of the sea, both men meeting in the middle and embracing one another.

"Good to see you man," the god of floods said, separating from the other and giving him a slap on the arm. "You haven't changed a single thing in these last centuries."

"Why fix what isn't broken?" Namjoon said with a shrug.

Poseidon shrugged as well. "Maybe, you'd probably know broken things better than me,"

The king of the Underworld had to bite his tongue in order to not respond, choosing instead to change the subject before he said something to ruin the mood, knowing deep down that the other had probably not meant anything negative by the words.

"Right," he said with a tight smile. "By the way, where's Amphitrite? It would be nice to see her as well after so many years."

"She's, hum," the god of the sea looked around the hall. "She's around. Somewhere."

The Lord of Riches let out a sigh as he rubbed his temple. "Please don't tell me you actually managed to lose your wife,"

"I didn't lose my wife," Poseidon crossed his arms over his chest. "She's around here somewhere enjoying herself, I just don't know where."

"Right," the god of the Dead simply rolled his eyes and let out a sigh as his mouth drew into a thin line. With a pat on the shoulder, he walked past the god of the sea, turning his attention to the oldest deity among the six.

The goddess of the hearth took him into her arms, no different than a mother would with her child. "It's so good to see you again, it's been far too long,"

He offers the goddess a genuine smile. "The feeling is mutual Hestia, however, you have to forgive my long absence," he stepped away from the embrace, giving her arms a squeeze before sliding his hands through her appendages and taking her hands in his, giving them a squeeze as well. "The Underworld requires far too much of my time, energy, and attention, leaving far too little time for free time."

The goddess of the hearth gave him a once-over, almost as if she was trying to spot something in his figure, before letting out a sigh. "I hope at the very least you're getting enough food and sleep,"

Namjoon nodded as he let go of her, deciding that a little white lie would be better than worrying the goddess and although not knowing if she had actually believed him or not, the king of the Underworld did feel relieved when the subject was dropped.

He turned to the other two goddesses, who spoke to one another in a low tone, and approached them, stopping the conversation as a result.

The goddess of harvest gave a quick and rushed hug, almost as if touching him was something she had forced herself to do, while the queen of the gods simply acknowledged his presence with a curt nod, her arms over her chest and a fiery look in her eyes, and in reality, the Lord of Riches hadn't expected anything else from them.

Especially from Hera, the goddess of women always had a habit of lashing out against people, even if they had done her no wrong, however, he could somewhat understand, considering all the things he had heard from the king and queen's marriage, the god of the Dead couldn't blame her for being enraged. Being the goddess of marriage while having your own being a shit show, it felt like a sick twisted sense of irony in the king of the Underworld's eyes.

At his wife's attitude, Jin let out a sigh, composing himself quickly and snapping his fingers, of which three golden tripods wheeled towards the six of them, each deity taking a glass of nectar before the automotones wheeled away, most likely attending to someone else.

"It's so good to have the big six back together again," the god of the sky said raising his glass, almost as if proposing a toast. "It's been eons since all of us have been in the same room, I dare say I even missed it."

Poseidon seemed to be the only one sharing the same enthusiasm as Jin as he raised his glass as well. Hestia simply gave a small smile, while Namjoon, Demeter, and Hera looked at the god of thunder and lightning, their mouths drew into thin lines, the god of the Dead catching the queen of the gods rolling her eyes from the corner of his, however, all four of them also raised their glasses, although reluctantly.

With the clicking of glasses, everyone took a swing of their drink, with Jin and Hera almost emptying theirs. And for a brief moment, Namjoon allowed himself to relax and pretend as if he couldn't feel eyes on him.

~🌸~

From the moment the king of the Underworld stepped into the hall every god and nymph had their eyes on him, Y/N being no different. If hadn't been for the murmurs around her the goddess of flowers would've assumed he was simply another deity that lived in Olympus.

Although never actually seen him in person or an image of him, she had heard many stories about him growing up. Tales of the dark and dreary place the Underworld was, of the god who was cold and cruel, ruling with an iron fist, how he was no different than a monster that terrorized cities and parents warned their children to stay away from.

All of these tales had culminated in her child mind creating a portrait of the god of the Dead, one of him being a gigantic creature, with sharp teeth and equally sharp long nails, a being extremely pale and slender with ever decaying skin. An image that remained with her until today.

But looking at him now, Y/N couldn't be further from the truth.

The king of the Underworld, Hades, was in reality entirely different. From his tall stature, towering over the others in the small group he found himself in, his skin of a golden honey shade, his all-black attire putting extra emphasis on his hard frame, muscle broad shoulders, and large, toned built, a sharp jawline, and short black hair. And, although a bit far away from him, the goddess of flowers could make out a perfectly sculpted nose, lips thick and plump, an aura of dominance waving off of him.

He looked no different than the several statues that humans had of other deities in temples, and she couldn't help but wonder why everyone spoke so poorly of him. Y/N assumed it had to be the fact that death and the Underworld were subjects feared by humans and gods alike, his waves of dominance more than likely not helping, she had even seen Ares stiffed at the god of the Dead's entrance out of the corner of her eyes.

But while his physical appearance had been misinterpreted, maybe his personality had not. Cold, stern, cruel, and feared, that was all the goddess of spring had heard. But looking at him now, the king of the Underworld looked more aloof than anything else, almost as if he was forcing himself to be here and go along with whatever Zeus wanted.

She pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder, bringing her back out of the trance she had fallen into and making the three goddesses' voices heard once again. "Hey, Kore? Are you listening?"

"H-uh,  Y-yeah, I'm alright," the goddess of flowers turned towards the goddess of wisdom, giving her hand a squeeze, trying to reassure Athena.

The older goddess removed her hand but her eyes still showed preoccupation. Artemis, who had spoken, had her eyebrows furrowed and her arms crossed over her chest, while Aphrodite looked around the hall, trying to spot the one who had caught the goddess of spring's attention.

And once the goddess of love's eyes fell upon the dark figure on the other side of the room a cheshire smile appeared on her face.

"Ooh," she said in a sing-along type of way, making the other three goddesses turn to her, the goddess of wisdom and the one of hunting with arched brows while the one of spring with a questioning look in her eyes. The goddess of beauty started jumping on the tip of her toes, her smile growing incredibly wide as excitement filled every particle in her body, she grabbed onto the younger goddess's arm, holding on to it tightly. "It seems our little Kore has a bit of a crush,"

All three of them look at Aphrodite with wide eyes, almost as if she had grown two heads, Y/N especially, turning her gaze towards the floor as she felt her cheeks redden at the assumption.

Unfortunately for her, the goddess of love took that as confirmation, giggling as if she were a child, giving the goddess of flowers even more reason to be embarrassed. "Oh I'm so excited, can't really blame you though, he's a total dish," she gave a dreamy sigh and started fanning herself with her hand. "I would've taken him for myself if he gave me the time, or if he showed up in Olympus more often."

"Huh, Aphrodite?" the goddess of the wilderness said baffled. "What are you going on about?"

The goddess of beauty humphed, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips, annoyed that the others weren't understanding where she was going with the conversation. "I'm talking about Kore staring fondly at Hades."

Athena and Artemis turned to look at Y/N, waiting for an answer, but the three pairs of eyes staring at her only made the younger goddess grow even more embarrassed.

"I wasn't staring fondly at him," she said in a soft low tone as she started playing with her fingers, in turn, the goddess of love arched an eyebrow, not really believing the words. "I wasn't! It's just that, I've only ever heard of him before. It's my first time seeing Hades in person, it's natural to be curious." 'he's nothing like I had imagined' she almost said, choosing instead to bite her tongue and keep the thoughts to herself.

Both the goddesses of wisdom and of hunting seemed satisfied with the reasoning, the goddess of sexuality however only huffed, loudly at that, in annoyance.

"Seriously Aphrodite?" the goddess of the wilderness said, irritation starting to show in her voice. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"

"Hey! As the goddess of love I'm pretty amazing at spotting this type of stuff," she waved her hand while pointing an accusatory finger at Artemis. "Like the stuff between you and Orion."

Beside Y/N the goddess of war simply sighed, grabbing two glasses from the nearby automotones and giving one to the goddess of flowers, whispering. "They're like children," which made the younger goddess let out a giggle.

The goddess of hunting simply stared at Aphrodite, one hand on her hip and scratching the side of her head with the other, a confused look in her eyes. "There's nothing between me and Orion though,"

The goddess of sexuality merely snorted at the words. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, but I know what I'm seeing,"

Artemis scoffed at the implication but then a smirk graced her lips, a snide remark ready on her tongue. "Are you really still hurt that you have no power over me or Athena?"

At the accusation the goddess of love found herself flabbergasted, catching herself before doing something that might bring unwanted attention towards them, even if the need of wanting to yell at the goddess of the wilderness still lingered within her.

Composing herself Aphrodite gave her friends a thin-lined smile. "I'm not even going to bother indulging you," she said in a sickly sweet tone. "I will however be taking my leave, for I have more pressing matters to attend."

"You mean matters like Ares?" the goddess of hunting said sarcastically, resulting in both a blow to the ribs and a stern look from the goddess of wisdom.

The goddess of love simply shrugged, a cheshire smile making an appearance on her lips. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you," and with that, she turned away from the other three goddesses and walked towards the god of war, whose lips shifted into a smirk once his eyes laid on her.

"Dammit Athena, did you really have to hit me that hard?" the goddess of the moon said annoyingly, her hand grazing over the spot.

The goddess of good counsel however remained composed and calm, stating matter-of-factly. "Do you have to constantly say things like that to her? It makes you look like a child Artemis."

"I am simply poking fun at her," the goddess of the wilderness stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. However, the way the older goddess stared at her made Artemis swallow whatever other words she would have said about the subject. With a deep sigh, she replied. "I'll apologize to her and I promise to you that I'll be nicer."

Athena, however, rolled her eyes, not really believing the words but deciding to drop the subject, choosing instead to talk about strategies when it came to battles and hunting, something she knew would distract Artemis.

As the conversation turned in that direction, Y/N started to tune it out, due to the fact that she had very little to no experience when it came to fighting in wars or the hunting of animals, choosing instead to focus her attention on watching the gods and nymphs interact around the hall, the glass of ambrosia grazing her lips but having no actual intention to drink the liquid.

As her eyes scanned the place the goddess of spring couldn't help having her attention being drawn back to the king of the Underworld, and as she did Y/N found him looking in her direction.

~🌸~

After the, supposed, toast between the six deities each of them separated into different groups, Hestia decided to talk to nymphs, Demeter and Hera moved to another side of the room to have a private conversation, while Namjoon, Jin, and Poseidon stayed in the same spot, getting a new drink as fast as they finished the previous one and having their own conversation.

Well, maybe saying he was part of the dialogue was a nice way of putting it, considering that all the god of the Dead did was listen and not really saying anything. He didn't feel a need to, after the 'toast' the six deities had a brief conversation about the goings-on in their lives, something that he didn't engage with due to not much having changed since the last time they had seen each other, before each one decided to do their own thing, leaving the three male gods on their own.

Afterward, the god of the Sky and the god of the Sea started to have a conversation about something that he was barely paying to, not that the other two seemed to notice, making the Lord of Riches feel like he could be no different than the wall behind him and nobody would care.

The one positive was that, at the very least, people had mostly stopped watching and murmuring about him, even if he would still catch some of them trying to do it secretly out of the corner of his eyes.

However, there was one that didn't hide that they were keeping their eye on him, someone he didn't recognize.

A woman, a goddess, on the other side of the room, almost as if she was mimicking his stance. Both deities standing detached from their group, having their glasses on their lips but not drinking anything, ignoring everything around them, and keeping their eyes on one another.

Namjoon didn't know if he felt uncomfortable or intrigued by her, however, he couldn't help but find amusement in her boldness, and despite his more logical side telling him otherwise, there was something, similar to an itch he wanted to scratch. A certain unexplained need to mess with her.

Lowering his occupied hand, the god of the Dead arches an eyebrow at her, wanting to see what her next step would be, he runs his tongue across his lower lip before biting the fleshy part, wanting to see how she would react.

At his actions the goddess's eyes widen before she looked away from him and down at her feet, biting her bottom lip in the process.

A large smirk made its way on his features. "Cute," he said quietly to himself.

"Hm? Did you say something?" the god of the Sky said, turning his head in his way.

The taller god shook his head. "No, nothing," he took a look at Jin from the corner of his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning his attention back to the goddess, taking another swing of nectar. "Where's Poseidon?"

"He went looking for Amphitrite," the king of the Gods took a sip of his drink, taking a glance at the god beside him before turning his gaze towards what had captivated him. A young goddess, one he recognized more due to the fact of who she was related to than anything else.

He gave a side glance to the king next to him before returning his gaze towards the girl, who seemed to be having an inner struggle between looking back at Namjoon or pretending he wasn't in the room, keeping her under his watchful eye. "Something that interests you?"

The king of the Underworld simply shrugged before taking the glass in his hand towards his lips. "Simple curiosity, nothing more to it,"

"You're not the only one," at the words the Lord of Riches turned his attention to the king of the Gods, an arched brow on his features as he waited for the other to develop. Instead of giving a verbal answer Jin merely motioned to each corner, signaling him where to look.

And sure enough, the god of the Dead found four deities having their eyes on her - Hephaestus, who sat by himself, swirling around the glass in his hand; Apollo, who was surrounded by, who Namjoon assumed to be his muses; Hermes, who seemed to be jumping from group to group, always keeping a certain amount of distance from the goddess; Ares, even as Aphrodite dragged him by the wrist to a secluded area.

All of them looking as if they were lovestruck, and the god of the Dead couldn't help but want to roll his eyes at how obvious they were being. "You can't possibly be comparing me to them. They are acting as if it's their first seeing a woman,"

"I never said that," the king of the Gods stated matter-of-factly. "I just said you weren't the only one observing little Kore."

"Kore, huh?" Namjoon said, a small hint of mild amusement in his voice. Although, he wouldn't deny that the name seemed to fit her perfectly, an air of innocence and purity that waved off of her, eyes so wide and bright she looked no different than a curious child finding out more about the world.

However, the king of the Underworld couldn't shake the voice inside of his head, the one that whispered disappointments of how the goddess, that was intriguing him so, wasn't the one mentioned by the Moirai.

Beside him the god of thunder and lightning hummed in agreement, giving a quick glance at his friend. "She grew into a fine goddess, didn't she? I can't help but find it a shame that Demeter wants to keep her to herself,"

The king of the Underworld's eyebrows raised in slight surprise, he had heard that the goddess of harvest had given birth to a baby girl centuries ago but it had never crossed his mind that said child was the same one he couldn't take his eyes off of.

But, perhaps, what had astonished him the most had been the choice of words that were used. Due to the nature and role, he played in his realm Namjoon had long since developed a sense of being able to detect hidden meanings of what was said, so much so that everyone who worked under him very rarely tried to lie to him.

In response the king of the Underworld scoffed at the words, followed by a dry chuckle. "Did you expect anything else from a mother that called her daughter maiden?"

"Not really," Jin shrugged. "Although, that might not mean anything in the future."

"What do you mean?" the taller one asked, intrigue prickling on his skin.

"Unlike Hestia, Athena, and, Artemis, little Kore has yet to swear before me that she wants to remain a virgin goddess," the god of the sky gave another side glance to his friend. "She's a young woman of marriageable age, and there seems to be a lot of gods that are…" a smirk grew on his lips. "Curious of her."

Namjoon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the words, taking a swing of his drink. "That would be if they can get past Demeter."

"True," the king of the Gods said, a tone of disinterest in his voice, almost as if he become bored with the topic he himself had brought up. "At least, it will be interesting to see them try."

"If you say so," gulping down the rest of his ambrosia as fast as he could, having grown tired of being in Olympus and just to lay down on his bed, the Lord of Riches failed to notice the goddess of flowers excusing herself to her companions before steeping outside, an action that didn't go unnoticed by the god of thunder and lightning. "Well Jin, it's been a fun night but I must return to my realm, there is still much I need to do before lying down for the day."

The god of law and order nodded along to the words, both men putting down their glasses before initiating a handshake, pulling into each other and swinging one arm around the back of the other, both gods giving the other's shoulder three open-palmed slaps.

"It was great seeing you," Jin said as both men separated. "You'll have to drop by more often."

"Likewise," Namjoon said with a somewhat forced smile on his lips, intentionally ignoring the second set of words spoken, before he exited the central hall.

As he watched the god of the Dead leave the king of the Gods took a glass to his lips and muttered to himself. "Very interesting indeed,"

When he exited the palace the king of the Underworld took a deep breath, feeling more at peace underneath the night starry sky than he had inside while surrounded by deities. He stared at the moon for some time, not really caring if seconds or minutes passed, he wanted to preserve its memory for as long as possible, especially considering that a millennia would probably pass before he was able to see it once again.

As he lowered his sight from the sky, it turned towards the patch of grass that adorned the front of the palace, where he saw a figure that made his eyes widen with surprise for a second.

A young goddess - no, Kore - was seated on the ground, her hand touching the earth as it grazed through a small portion of the grass, leaving a dozen or so daisies in its wake.

Slowly and quietly the god of the Dead approached in her direction, choosing to hide behind the olive tree closest to her and hoping the darkness of the night helped camouflage his figure, the last thing Namjoon wanted was for her to be scared of him.

With slight curiosity, he watched as the goddess of flowers ripped three daisies with longer stems with her hands, crossing the stems over each other almost as if she was braiding hair, taking the stem from the right and placing it between the other two and then taking the one from the left and placing it between the other two.

She continued this until the now braided stems were the width of a flower head, of which then a fourth daisy was laid so that the added stem rested on top of the center stem, she then resumed braiding, holding the new flower stem together with the center stem., the young goddess continuing this process until the chain was of the desired size.

All the while, the king of the Underworld couldn't take his eyes off of her, the way she was so concentrated on her task, one could almost confuse it with a life or death situation; the way light of the full moon shined down on her,  making all the gold and silver in his kingdom look like coal by comparison. From her small delicate hands, that handled her work with such care and precision; to the long and simple white dress that, despite what her mother would think, didn't do any favors in hiding her physique or attributes.

Everything about her was mesmerizing to him, his more sinful thoughts paying special attention to the way the dress rose up, due to her sitting position, and showed off her thighs.

Once the chain was the desired length, Kore braided the remaining ends and then tucked them in near the start to make a crown, as she smiled at her creation the Lord of Riches could've sworn that he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his immortal life, a small part of him even wishing that the smile was directed at him instead of the daisies.

As the goddess of flowers was ready to put the crown on her head a loud and distant voice call out to her, pulling both deities out of their trance, turning towards the palace entrance where it was coming from. "Kore? Kore? Kore where are you?"

At the sound, the goddess stood up and made a quick dash towards the palace. "Coming mother," she said as she passed through the entrance and disappeared from his view.

The king of the Underworld's eyes dragged from the entrance to the patch of grass where she had been, the flower crown laying forgotten in her place, almost as if all the work she had put into it was all but an afterthought, and, in a possible weird way, Namjoon could relate to it.

Carefully he picked up the crown of daisies and made his way to the golden gates, the Horae simply opening the entrance to the heavenly fortress without sparing him a glance, not that he minded much, his mind otherwise occupied with other thoughts.

The journey back to the Underworld was rather uneventful, nothing but him and his thoughts to serve as entertainment, and for once he wished that wasn't the case, for them kept being drawn back to her.

Arriving in his realm the Lord of Riches descended his chariot to the front of his palace, stepping out of it and looking at the servant that had stepped away from the door and walked in the direction of his king, giving him a bow. "Where is Thanatos?"

"In the throne room my Lord," the servant said as the king of the Underworld gave him the reins of the chariot, bowing again before leaving.

Entering the palace Namjoon made his way to the throne room, feeling a migraine starting to form as he heard the noise the closer he got.

As the doors to the room were open before him, the sight that he had stumbled upon made the god of the Dead pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh.

There he found Thanatos; Charon; Hypnos, who had his hand up Pasithea, his wife, dress as both sat on his throne; and to make matters worse, they were all equally inebriated.

"What in the world is going on in here?" his deep, booming voice reverberated throughout the room, making all the daimons and the youngest of the Charites stop what they were doing and turn towards their king.

The three daimons looked at each other, neither one knowing who should be the first to break the silence, especially considering the look they were getting from their ruler - when he looked at anyone with his jaw clenched and with a raised brow, it was never a good sign.

Releasing a dry cough all eyes turned to Hypnos, except for his wife who still had her head lowered in shame. "So, hum," the daimon of sleep cleared his throat and removed his hand from the goddess of relaxation. "Huh, you're home early."

At the words, the daimon of non-violent death and the ferryman of the dead collectively groaned, with the minister rubbing his temple as well.

"I don't remember needing to give an exact hour of when I'd be returning to my own realm," the king of the Underworld released another sigh and rolled his eyes. "And that still doesn't answer why you're all drunk and making a mess of my palace."

"Well…," Jungkook started, keeping his eyes away from the king. "We heard that you were going to a feast in Olympus, so we wanted to have a little celebration of our own."

"And you decided that my palace - nay, my throne room was the ideal place for that?"

"It's more spacious," Jimin said plainly, shrugging his shoulders as he got up from the throne.

Namjoon groaned in frustration, feeling like the conversation was going around in circles. He turned his sight to his minister, hoping for some sense of a decent conversation. "What about you? Nothing to say?"

Yoongi's face stayed expressionless as he spoke. "Is there anything else to say?"

The Lord of Riches let out a deep sigh and rubbed his temple, feeling a headache starting to form, just wanting to go to bed and put the day behind him, but unfortunately, he still had a question to ask. "Did any of you, at the very least, watched over Cerberus?"

As if on cue, the three-headed white as snow hound, who looked to be in his smaller form instead of his gigantic one, bursted into the room, two of its heads barking while the third one had, what the god of the Dead assumed to be, a piece of someone's clothing in its mouth.

However, when he saw his owner had returned Monie dropped the clothes, and started wagging his tail before making a mad dash towards the king of the Underworld, whinnying as he jumped up and down on his back legs, his front ones pawing at his arm.

With a smile on his lips, Namjoon bent down to pet each head of the forty-seven cm dog, being mindful as to not ruin the flower crown. "Care to tell me why he's in this form?"

"We didn't want him to be alone while we were inside," Jungkook said scratching the back of his head.

Standing up, the god of the Dead shook his head in disbelief but as he watched the four of them with difficulty standing upright, and the tiredness that was starting to get to him, he decided to let go of the conversation, for now at least. "All of you, just get out and go to bed,"

The ferryman, the daimon of sleep, and the goddess of relaxation nodded and moved towards the exit, stumbling their way out the door and into the hallway, with Monie following behind them.

Only the daimon of non-violent death remained, staring at his king with a raised eyebrow, but waiting until the others were a few meters away before starting to talk. "What is that?" he gestured towards the daisies with his chin.

"It's a flower crown made of daisies," the Lord of Riches said in a disinterested tone, almost as if it bored him to speak of it. "I found it on the ground when I was leaving Olympus and decided to take it with me. Haven't seen them in a long time and the Underworld doesn't have these types of flowers," he raised a brow at his minister, almost as if challenging him to say what he actually meant. "Is there a problem with that?"

Yoongi stared at him from top to bottom, his hands between his back. "No, it's as you say," with that, the daimon left the palace, deciding to leave the conversation to another day.

When the door to the throne room closed once again the god of the Dead let out a sigh of relief, telling the two servants in the room that he wanted it clean, especially his throne, and then he took his leave, making a direct beeline to his room.

Entering his bedroom, he took a peek at his bed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, choosing instead to close the door and walk towards the mirrored dresser on the other corner of the room, carefully putting the flower crown on it, grazing his index finger through a petal, his thoughts being drawn back to the one who had made it.

Shaking his head to forget such things,  Namjoon took off his clothes and threw them haphazardly onto the floor, avoiding looking at the mirror as he did so, not wanting to see the marks that filled out his torso and back, marks that him and everyone around him had gotten so used to that none would comment on it, marks that he didn't want to glance for even a second.

Afterward, he grabbed the bottle of wine from his dresser, pouring the liquid on one of the two glasses, no doubt having been brought by her, before taking it to his lips and drinking it until the glass was half empty, all the while leaning against the dresser, his eyes never straying from the naked nymph on his bed, as he stared at her with a raised brow.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you my Lord," she shifted her position until she reached the end of the bed, moving to be on her hands and knees, facing him with pupils blown wide with lust and a wide grin. "Is that a problem?"

"This is the second time today you barge in without being summoned," he said without a shred of emotion.

Like everyone else in the entire cosmos, the king of the Underworld liked to have his moments of privacy, moments that were few and, sometimes, far in between. Due to his busy life, he rarely had time to indulge in some of them, it had been so long since he had stepped foot in his vast library.

So, a lot of those moments alone had to be mixed with his schedule, delegated to his bedroom and his bathroom. Only him and the servants that cleaned afterward were allowed in those spaces, and even said helpers knew better than to interrupt their king, only doing so in cases that required his attention and when the minister was unavailable.

This was someone that was known throughout the realm, his mistress being no different.

But as of recent the naiad seemed to take a liking to come in unannounced and invade his personal time alone, something that was starting to irk him a great deal. Any other day he wouldn't mind indulging her, but after the day he had had, sleep was the only thing on his mind.

Not that she seemed to care, as the grin on her face grew wider. "I'm simply trying to be a good lover," the nymph of Cocytus moved her upper body off the bed, crossing her arms in a way that put a special emphasis on her breasts. Even the sickly sugary sweet way in which she talked was starting to grind on his nerves, and the god was only fifty percent sure that it was due to all the drinks he had consumed. "Especially after about how my Lord had visited Olympus, it must've been quite the stressful situation."

"It was," the image of the goddess of flowers flashed briefly in his mind, he mentally shook himself to get rid of such thoughts. "Interesting, to say the least."

"Hmm," she stood up and off from the bed, not really interested in any more conversation, strolling up to him until she was standing face to face with him, her hands finding a place on his shoulders before they ran down his chiseled chest until they passed below his waist and reached for what she wanted in the first place.

Taking a hold of his flaccid cock the nymph started to lazily stroke him, making the Lord of Riches bite his lower lip in order to not let out a groan that wanted to escape, more so when he felt her other hand cupping and massaging his balls.

And, despite everything, Namjoon felt somewhat detached to the ordeal, where normally he would be giving in to the pleasure, now he only had two thoughts on his mind.

The first was a conversation he had had with Yoongi sometime after getting together with his mistress, the daimon talking about the possibility of how the naiad might want to take the role of queen, a concern that the god of the Dead was quick to dismiss.

At the time, he had made it unabatedly clear, especially to her, that he wasn't looking for a queen, something she didn't seem to have a problem with. Minthe tried to hide it, but he knew that what she was after were the bragging rights of how she had laid with him, something he never really cared much about.

But her sudden need to constantly be around him made the words of his minister ring louder in his ears, there was a possibility of her having changed her mind but that didn't mean he had done the same.

The second wasn't so much of a thought, but more of an intrusion. Whenever he allowed himself to relish in the moment, it wasn't his mistress he saw behind his closed lids.

It was a young goddess, the one whose name and conversation with Jin had made clear the fact that she had never been touched by the desire he was enjoying, the one who had made the crown that was close to his fingertips, the one who he couldn't keep out of his mind - Kore.

The king of the Underworld's mind wouldn't stop conjuring images of the goddess of flowers being the one stroking his length; of how she would have her wide, innocent eyes look at him with a mixture of fright and eagerness; of how he would teach her all of the pleasures she had been missing.

And damn if those thoughts didn't make him harder.

When he felt the naiad's breath on his leaking tip, the god of the Dead's free hand moved to the back of her head, having a tight grip on her hair and pulling her to stand up.

He drank the rest of his wine in one go, letting the empty glass fall on the floor before bringing Minthe's head closer to his until they could feel each other's breath.

"Hands and knees, facing the headboard," once he let go of her the nymph moved in a flash towards the bed, getting into position and wiggling her ass to entice him more.

With one last side glance at the daisy crown, Namjoon moved to stand on his knees behind her, a hand on her back as to force her upper body to lay down until her nipples grazed the sheets before his fingers started to rub the wetness around her slit, making her let out soft moans.

"So wet for me already," he kept rubbing for a couple more seconds before pulling his fingers away from her sopping center, using her essence and his precum as lubricant before his big hands settled on her waist with a bruising grip, lining himself at her entrance.

"You're ready?" that was all the warning he gave before thrusting with full force inside, making the nymph take every inch of his large cock all at once.

Minthe yelled at the sudden intrusion, not expecting her king to start so rough but not complaining, feeling so full as he filled her oh so well.

Not giving her a chance to familiarize herself with his length, the Lord of Riches drew back until only the tip remained before slamming into her once again.

His pace was rough and fast, snapping his hips with such force that it made the bed frame hit the wall with his movements while leaving the naiad in a perpetual state of constant moans, both sounds mixing with the ones of lewd squelching and skin slapping against skin.

As he lost himself, Namjoon's thoughts were brought back to Kore, thinking of how tight she would be around him; of how he would be the first to enter such uncharted territory; of how she would take every inch of him like a good girl and would beg him for more.

"F-fuck," he threw his head back, feeling himself closer to his high as his head filled with various scenarios of the virgin goddess under him instead of the nymph.

Once he felt Minthe's walls clenching around him, the god of the Dead moved one of his to rub circles on her clit, constantly hitting her cervix, ramming into her cunt at a harder, wild, quick, and, bruising pace that started to slightly falter.

With a couple more thrusts the naiad of Cocytus released all over the king, his name leaving her lips in a loud moan and feeling like her bones had turned into mush.

The Lord of Riches gave a few more thrusts before one final image of how the goddess would look after he came inside of her took center stage in his mind, biting down hard on his lower lip as he shoot deep inside of his mistress and painted her walls.

Taking a couple of seconds to catch his breath Namjoon pulled out of her center, not really bothering with the mess that spilled out of her, choosing instead to lie down on his bed, next to his lover.

After regaining the strength in her legs, Minthe stood up from the bed, passing her fingers through her hair to give it a more proper look and putting on the clothes she had discarded when she had first arrived in the room.

Afterward, she leaned on the bed and gave a quick peck on the king's cheek. "Thank you for your time my Lord, hope I was of service," and with those final words, his mistress left the room, a huge grin on her face.

Finally alone with his thoughts, the exhaustion of the day started to grab onto Namjoon like a parasite, leaving him struggling to keep his eyes open for very long.

With one last glance at the flower crown on his dresser, the king of the Underworld's eyelids dropped, the last image he saw before sleep took a hold of him was of Kore, when he had caught her looking at him in Olympus.

[phenomenalgirl9]

Locked Away: Ten Lee x Reader (Vampire AU)

✨ Happy Birthday to my Bae 🎂

Summary: Being in the Supernatural Control Force for over 150 years now raids are a regular part. What you didn't expect was this time to find a hostage.

A/n: Happiest 27th to my love. Hehe I liked writing this.

W/c: 2.1k

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"Xiaojun and Mark to the right, Hendery, follow me" you said as you took the safety valve off, of your gun, the others did the same. "May I go first ma'am?" Hendery asked, you simply shrugged. You two followed the corridor that brought you to a wooden door, you put a finger to your lips to ask him to quiet down. He nodded and the two of you tried to listen in, there was a sound of chain at a distance, you could tell it was at a lower altitude. With one smooth pull you broke the lock thanks to your enhanced strength. Hendery again walked up front. "Careful of the stairs ma'am" He said and you nodded. You both tried to be light on your feet, the closer you got the more the rustle of the chains was heard, the person was trying to gain attention. "Ma'am! Ma'am it's a person! A- a vampire" he said. "Shh!" You said.

You could see the blood red eyes, he wasn't fed for a long time. The closer you got the more familiar the smell got, the smell of lemon and Sandal wood. Him?! Your mind went. "Ten?" You whispered under your breath, you were taken aback as if your sky was crashing down on you. Those blood red eyes shifted to look towards you. You could hear some grunts. "Ma'am it's looking this way!" Hendery said jumping behind you, "I can see that. Call Yangyang for the Blood bags, quick", you channeled your walkie talkie to Xiaojun and called him over, these rails were too stiff for you to do anything to them alone. He was beside you in no time, the movements inside the room however were very sloppy, he could barely move, the slight rotting tinge told you that he hasn't been fed for at least 2 months, which was probably back when the gang leaders were just caught.

This hideout was way too secluded and spotting it took time. If this was any other vampire they would probably have turned into a live corpse and you would've had to kill them, but this is Ten one of the elders that went missing more than a century ago. Now, things were a bit clear as to why finding and then locating this hideout was so difficult. You and Xiaojun took hold of the bars and on a count of three pried the door open, Mark put a hand and door was taken off the hinges and set apart. Hendery and Yangyang walked in but you stopped them "We need to check him first, be careful". You got a funny smell as soon as you walked into the room, you looked at Xiaojun and saw he smelt it too. A groan was heard from the one in chains.

You went to grab onto them but "Wait Y/n" Xiaojun stopped you "It's silver, wear gloves" he said and you all pulled your gloves out of your pocket and put them on. You slowly untangled him from the chains first. He could barely move a muscle. "It's! It's Elder Ten! Who went missing almost a century ago" Hendery said, Yangyang glared at him but he never saw that. "A hundred and nineteen years" you said quietly.

"Y-Y-Y/nnnn?" He groaned, his voice was hoarse and dry. "Please stay quiet, sir, we'll entangle you in a moment" you said, in your professional voice. Even Xiaojun was a bit shocked at that. When he was untangled, you checked his vitals, his body was warm and his skin was soft, his lips had almost turned blue and so were his finger tips. "Yangyang" you said and he came up with the 3 blood bags he had. You tore open one and put it to his lips, but he coughed it out. You tried to give him a bit more but he coughed it all out.

"His body can't cope with the blood" Mark said. "Maybe if we" Xiaojun said and stopped but you knew what he meant in an instant you bore your teeth on your wrist and made a scar and held it to Ten's mouth, a few drips on his tongue and he gulped, no he didn't cough this time. He drank some more and weakly pushed your hand away with a low "No" it was almost a whisper. The color of his lips and fingertips were back, but he wouldn't drink anymore from you, "Sir, I insist you drink some more" you said, but he shut his lips and looked away.

"Break the chains" you said and stood up and walked a few steps away. "Careful of the silver pins in the legs" you said, that smell still bothering you.

Suddenly, the lights lit up and Winwin appeared at the entrance, "This should help" he said "The rest of the hind out has been cleared, as soon as sir, is recued we'll seal the-"

"Y/N!" You heard Xiaojun call and you hurried to him, he showed you Ten's leg "the pin had some poison capsule, it broke when we pulled the pins out" he said

"You're still in the force? Still her puppy huh? Xiaojun?" Ten spoke up "I can deal with the pain, I'm used to it" he said. But this wasn't any normal poison, the smell you were getting until now was of Wisteria, if it gets too mixed with blood, it gives a burning sensation you had to be quick.

"Pick him up, carefully, Mark and bring him to the van we'll go to the Qians first" you said.

"It would be beneficial for you and us if you restrict your movement, sir" you said and walked out of the basement. You still remember when you last saw him after the Cold-Lykan war, your side the Cold ones won. However, the hybrid children, that was the main aspect of the war were decided would be locked away in isolation. Ten didn't want that, he went against the council and kept them under protection. The two of you could rarely meet during those times, you would have loved to join him but you had your own duty being a member of the force. Then suddenly, one day you received news that he went missing. You had looked at so many places, you turned the world upside down but never found him.

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"He's awake, the wisteria poisoning has washed off" Xiaojun informed you in your office. It's been 3 days since you rushed Ten at Qian Kun's house, he was a former friend and a healer so you trusted him. "Good" you said.

"I'll handle the evening, you should go" he said. "Go where?" You asked, knowing very well what he meant, but you can't, you just can't bring yourself to go there yet. All these years you were sure that either he was dead or he didn't want to be found, and you made peace with that in your mind. But, now you feel like everything is getting messed up, was he captured all this time? You had a thousand questions and you didn't know if you should try to get the answers. "He said he won't feed until you go there" Xiaojun said, and your eyes went wide, as looked at Xiaojun who nodded. You begrudgingly got up handing over the responsibilities for the rest of the evening until night to him and drove off towards the Qians.

"What did you need? Elder?" You asked, bowing. "Did you look for me?" He asked, looking at you and sitting up. "Yes sir, it was part of my duty" you said still officially. Ten stood up and walked towards you, you didn't know what he wanted but you stood your ground stiffly. He now stood close to you looking deep into your eyes suddenly he dipped his head to your neck. For a second there you thought he was about to bite you but he placed his head on your shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat and you cursed at it, you were over him, yes, you were, he just acts this way and your heart goes all zoomie.

"What's wrong Sir?" You asked. "Please" he said and he almost dropped but you held him. You helped him back to bed, and turned around but felt his hand on your wrist. "Please" he said again. "What?" You asked, "Stay" he said and pulled you down on the edge of the bed "I'm sorry" he said, you looked at him, his eyes looked in pain. You decided you needed to know everything, you shook off your arm and got up and left the room, leaving Ten alone to think that you left. You went to Kun to get the blood tonic he was supposed to give Ten and brought it back. His eyes lit up at your sight. "Drink" you said, taking a seat beside him, he obeyed you word to word.

"What happened?" You finally asked when he was done. "A few days after we stopped talking-" he was interrupted by you "You meant after you drove me and Xiaojun away when we tried to help you? I can't even speak all the shit you had spewed" you said. "I was shit talking okay! I could not let you get into a false position with the council. They would have marked all of you rogues!" He said, which was shocking to you, "I couldn't let you lose that spot you worked and trained all your life for! After that day, a few days went quiet, almost too quiet. Then I received intel that an assassination was planned to kill the kids, I couldn't let that happen so I thought of getting them out of there hence I planned, it seemed fool proof. But, we were ambushed, there were too many Lycans , I couldn't save them Y/n" he said, he was trembling, you took his hand in his.

"Then they drugged me, all I remember after that is weakness and dizziness. They took vials and vials of my blood for testing in exchange just gave me some animal blood after long periods, just to keep me alive and my blood flowing. They used to bring in lots of hostages, killed them in the process of testing, I wished I would too, it felt like forever but just sometime before you all came one time they all suddenly left and ran" he said "then you found me, I was so weak with lack of blood and those silver shackles that I couldn't even break them. 119 years I was down there, I didn't- I didn't even" he broke down and you hugged him tight.

"You're safe now. We caught them, the leaders, I'll catch every last one that was involved in this. We have enough proof to let them rot the rest of their lives in our aconite prisons" you said "I'm so sorry I couldn't find you sooner. I had lost all hope, I thought you were dead somehow, after I found out those kids, I gave them proper burial. We never found a trace of you" you said "Xiaojun and I didn't leave any stones unturned but we never found you. You should have come to us, to me". You said, holding him tighter.

"It's not your fault they moved my location so many times, I don't even know through what they just drugged me and I used to wake up in a new rooms of darkness" he said. You pulled him apart and looked into his eyes "You are safe now, Ten" you said "I won't let anything happen to you. Never" you said. At that moment he grabbed your neck and attacked your lips, you were stunned, you haven't done this in ages, you haven't had him in your arms in ages. "Please kiss me back, please" he said, connecting his forehead to yours, it almost sounded like a plea. This time you connected your lips to his, you intertwined your hands around his neck tightly so that he never disappears again. "I missed you so much" he mouthed against your lips. He bit on your lip and you just granted him access, you would never let anyone near him again.

You parted and he said "I'm sorry, I should have told you. I think that could have saved all of us some troubles" he said and you couldn't agree less.

He pulled you close to him and planted kisses along your jaw as he went lower to your neck, he bit down lightly piercing his fangs, as you instantly felt euphoria coursing through your veins. He stopped and licked the wound, sending a chill down your spine.

"COULD YOU AT LEAST CLOSE THE DOOR!!" you heard a heavy voice say and turned to see a very mortified Lucas at the door. "I thought let me go greet Y/n and see Ten hyung, but you two are at it here" he said shaking his head.

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Other Works

[lover-of-midnight]

Left for Dead

Morgana smiled as she stared at her brother. Already the blood was slowly spreading. She could see the betrayal in his eyes.

“This is for the best Arthur. You don’t want to see the changes I will bring. Camelot will be the best she was in centuries.” Her voice was cold. A pang went through her when he couched up blood.

She signed slightly. It is best that she just leaves. From the corner of her eye, she saw the way Arthur reached out for her. Blood dripping from his mouth before he slumps down again.

Arthur could only feel horror coursing through him. It was a normal evening, Morgana occasionally, came and visited him. He saw that something was wrong, her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

When he tried to give some comfort, he found a dagger in his stomach. Before he even had a chance to react, she forced it upwards, making the wound even worse. Before twisting and pulling it out.

Betrayal stings at his heart as he sees the smile, a coldness over her as she says something that he barely hears.

When she turned to leave, a sense of dread filled him. He slumps back onto the floor. He could feel the blood in his mouth he tried to cough out, but it only got worse. Dark spots danced in front of his eyes.

Is this really how it is going to go? To die like this? He did nothing to change the fate of his people. His people were still struggling. He needed to change this. He couldn’t die here. Arthur wasn’t sure how he managed to get to his knees.

Forcing himself upright. Feet dragging, blood dripping down his torso. It felt like miles between him and the door while it was just a few steps. Still, he forced himself to move.

Dark spots danced in front of his eyes as he finally managed to open the door, falling to the floor. At least there were guards.

He could hear people rushing around. Screaming sounded in the hallway as darkness dragged him under.

“Arthur.” Merlin’s voice was warm as the prince groaned. He crouched down gently whipping the sweat from his brow. “It is alright, you just need to rest.” Merlin could do a happy dance at the fact that he was finally waking up.

Arthur tried to open his eyes, but everything felt heavy. A whimper slipped through his lips as pain shot through his body. He tried to remember what happened. But his mind felt blank. Still, something urged him to sit upright. Fighting against the hands pushing him back down.

He needed to speak with Morgana. He needed… The thought ended as something was pressed against his mouth, on in stink he drank the concoction. Couching slightly at the vile taste. A hand was pressed against his shoulder.

He easily followed the silent command lying back down. Sleep dragged him back under.

When he woke up again, he woke to the sight of Merlin fast asleep next to the bed. A groan slipped through his lips as he tried to sit upright. Immediately Merlin woke up. Giving him a beaming smile.

“I’m so glad that you are okay.” The words came out in a rush as Merlin forced himself to sit upright. “How are you feeling?” There was a worried note in his voice.

Arthur was silent for a few seconds, trying to take stock of his body. Everything was in pain and his limbs felt they were made of lead.

“Sore.” The words came out in a whisper, as he looked down at the floor. “Merls…” Arthur trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say. “It was Morgana, why?” His voice broke slightly. His hand reached out to Merlin’s.

Merlin gave him a soft look. There was a look of understanding in his eyes. “I know. The guards immediately reported it to the king. She is currently being held in the dungeons. Arthur, there is something that you need to know.” He took a deep breath. A part of him still feels frightened to speak freely of magic.

“Morgana has magic.” He forced the words out before he could think better of it. “From what I could gather. She did it to become the queen once Uther died.” Merlin winched slightly. The anger that had radiated from Uther when he found out, it was bad.

Arthur was silent as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“I have to let the King know you are awake,” Merlin whispered the words as he forced Arthur to lay back down. The prince groaned slightly as the movements agitated the wound.

All Arthur could do was look at the door waiting for something or someone to walk through the door. His heart felt like it was shattered. They weren’t always close, but in the last few months, they have grown closer as siblings.

Was it all a chance to get to kill him?

He forced himself upright again, trying to ignore the sharp pain that shot through his body. He could hear people in the hallway and then the king was in his room. Uther was pale, but his eyes bright with gratitude when he saw his son awake.

“Arthur.” The king breathed the word before he walked closer, settling down next to him. His hands were warm against Arthur’s as the prince tried to understand the emotions in the king's eyes.

With careful movements Uther pulled his son into a hug, making sure that he didn’t agitate the wound. It took Arthur a second to relax against his father before the tears started. Everything just came crashing down.

“I don’t understand. Why did she do it?” He whispered the words against his father’s chest. Breathing hitched slightly as Uther moved a hand. Just for a moment, he needed some stability. Just to be told everything will be alright.

“She saw you as a hurdle to her dreams. She wants to make magic free for all.” Uther easily answered. Still, he knew that the answer wouldn’t be enough for Arthur, the boy would never think of killing someone for his gain.

Uther pulled back slightly, he frowned slightly at the tears, but now wasn’t the time to reprimand him. Understandably, he was feeling overwhelmed and betrayed.

“Morgana is going to be beheaded tonight,” Uther muttered the words. Arthur froze, just staring at his father. How could they kill her? She was family.  Uther saw the look. “She tried to kill you, that is punishable by death. There is no other choice.” Uther’s voice was firm.

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to answer. His mind is racing.

Uther signed slightly. “Get some rest.” Uther helped him lay back down, pulling the blankets back up. Leaving Arthur to stew in his thoughts.

Merlin slipped back into the room. Seeing the look on Arthur’s face. He settled next to the prince. “Uther gave you the news?” His voice was soft as he gently ran his fingers through his hair, giving him some comfort.

Arthur could only nod.

“Go to sleep, my prince. Everything will look slightly better in the morning.” For a moment Arthur could see the gold in Merlin’s eyes before his mind fell quiet as sleep dragged him under. Merlin just sitting there, as he looked at the prince. Knowing they are going to have a long path forward.

Ao3 Link

[whereismymindnow]

Twin Hearts Chapter Eight

Author's Note: I cannot wait to stop being a student. Assignments and exams may be over, but I still have practical templates to complete, then a 60 minute verbal assessment, then finally 12 practical assessments to try and become a registered veterinary nurse.

My apologies for once again being delayed with updating the fic. As you can imagine, I’m a bit stretched thin at the moment. It may please you to hear that the next chapter is ¾ finished so I aim to upload it in the next week or two!

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Twin!Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+ due to mature, darker themes. Twincest. Smut. Strong language. Death. Miscarriage. Murder. Vampire/Hybrid violence. Please read responsibly.

If this work is found anywhere other than Tumblr (@whereismymindnow) or Archive of Our Own (Mikki19) then it has been posted without my permission.

Twin Hearts Masterlist

---

Chapter Eight: Reparation

Pia sighed softly as she felt his eyes on her for what felt like the millionth time in the past hour. The sound of his pencil scratching against the surface of the paper reached her ears once again. The female hybrid opted to ignore her brother for a while longer and turned the page of her book.

“No… no, that isn’t right…” His soft muttering broke the peace for the third time in ten minutes and Pia found herself re-reading a whole paragraph to return her mind to the wizarding world and not the annoyance that was a few feet away from her. She forced a smile on her face and pretended to have not been distracted by- “A little more definition… that is better…” Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she silently counted back from ten.

Ignore him.

She was sure that he was doing this on purpose.

Right, Mr Potter. You have my full attention, she reiterated in her mind and embroiled herself back into the life of a young character that seemed to have worse luck than her. Her brow creased a little as a small ache within her belly made her pause and press a hand to her abdomen; the dull throbbing sensation felt like a tightness in her stomach, but it wasn’t painful so she ignored it. She would read this page if it killed her. Perhaps she was just hungry or it was her wolf wanting to break free. She could feel the claws begging to be let out from inside her skin as her wolf paced. A run was probably due shortly.

Klaus glanced over at his sister as he felt his wolf begin to whine inside his head. He felt her discomfort through their bond and watched as she brought her knees to her chest as she read. She didn’t seem as though she was in pain and so assumed her wolf probably just wanted to be free which was causing his wolf to be impatient to be let out also. With a shake of his head he focused upon his drawing once more “What is missing…?” The sound of the pencil being tapped against the paper as he deliberated the sketch on the page was the last straw for Pia.

“For goodness sake, Niklaus!”

Thunk!

The second year of Harry Potter’s life at Hogwarts hit the floor after being thrown against the wall. Niklaus raised his brows at the glare that was sent his way as he innocently looked from his drawing pad to his sister.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I was drawing you.” He said as though it was obvious.

“And you just had to keep muttering under your breath and tapping your pencil? And let’s not even mention how loudly you seemed to rub that eraser across the page!”

“Sister, are you mad at me?” His dimpled smile made her glare falter. She pointed a finger at him as her glare faltered under this mischievous expression.

“Do not. Do not do that.” Pia bit the inside of her cheek to stop the smile that threatened to grow on her face as her finger shook slightly.

Elijah, who had been observing the two silently with Rebekah, couldn’t help but feel a rare flutter of happiness in his chest as he saw the twins begin one of their stubborn games with each other.

It had been centuries since Niklaus had done something that would annoy her and lead them to sit in silence until one of them broke out into laughter. Klaus’ dirty tactics of using his dimples against his twin would nearly always make Pia break first. She adored the cheeky grin that he would reserve for her.

Rebekah beamed at the sight of her beloved siblings acting as they used to. She had often envied the close bond that they had; at one point in time they had seemed unbreakable. Niklaus and Pia were a force to be reckoned with when they teamed up, but often enough they would use their pride and power against each other to test who was the strongest. They had not played with each other so innocently in years and she had worried that Pia’s late awakening would lead to them never resolving their issues. Of course, she knew that Pia was still wary of her brother, but Rebekah also knew that Nik had something up his sleeve to prove himself to Pea. So, this current game that Pia was so obviously losing was a great indication that things would soon be back to normal… well, at least as normal as their family could be.

“Niko!” Pia whined before breaking out into loud laughter at his attempt to widen his eyes to further his protest of innocence. She sped over to him, jumped onto his lap and roughly hit his chest until he grabbed her hands. Their breathless laughter faded as they recognised their lips were mere inches apart; time seemed to slow as Klaus released her and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. His fingers lightly grazed her right cheek before settling on the side of her neck; his touch caused goosebumps to rise on her arms, it was though he was made of pure electricity. Her wolf was aching to submit to her mate. He rubbed his thumb over her throat, smirking as her pupils expanded and she swallowed nervously.

“Pia…” Despite a large portion of her wishing to do nothing more than taste his lips at that very moment, Pia settled her head against his shoulder and nosed his neck to take in his scent. Klaus felt disappointment wash over him before he shook it away. She needed more time. He nuzzled the side of her head and rubbed his hands up and down her back as a low growl vibrated through their chests.

“Can we go for another run?” Pia asked quietly as another ache began in her abdomen; maybe stretching her legs would appease the wolf.

“Of course, sister.”

-----

Elijah found himself once again outside of the Salvatore Boarding House. Whilst he was pleased to see Pia’s progress he also knew that once she overcame her issues with Niklaus she would be on the search to find Elena. Her bond with her twin had served as a great distraction that had allowed for Elijah to seek out the Gilbert girl and speak with her and her friends about Pia’s awakening, but it was time for him to make them realise just how dangerous his younger sister could be. They needed to know more about her to be ready for when she is prepared to seek out the newest doppelganger.

Was he completely sure that she would wish to harm Elena? No. After all, she had welcomed Katerina with open arms until her betrayal and had tried her hardest to not blame the girl for her ancestor’s wrongdoings. However, the dagger had only been taken from her chest a short while ago and she was still very much unpredictable.

It was in Elena’s best interest to listen to him now and be prepared should she come across Pia. With this thought Elijah stepped over the threshold and followed the doppelganger to the living area where the rest of the opposition sat.

Damon sent Elijah a sarcastic wave as he poured himself a fresh glass of bourbon. Oh, the oldest Salvatore was definitely ready to hear more about the little blonde that he had fought a few nights ago.

Elijah settled onto the couch opposite Elena and Caroline. Damon and Stefan remained behind the two girls whilst Bonnie took up a separate chair on Elena’s right. After taking a few moments to decide what he should tell them, Elijah began to recount a piece of Pia’s history.

“In the 11th Century there were a string of gruesome deaths that lasted up until the early 12 Century. People would turn up dead with their necks so badly ripped open that their heads would be separated from their body.” He gave a pointed look at Stefan before continuing. “At first people thought it was an animal, but then there were signs of continuity. The bodies would be decapitated, but there would be no other mark on their skin. So, of course this soon led people to think that this could not just be a wild animal hunting for prey.

“Why would an animal not rip the entire body to shreds? That was the question that could never be answered. This then caused people to believe that a demon had broken free from Hell and was bringing pain and death to Earth.

“In 1059 a man named Thomas Howard and his family were victims of this demon. People came across the bloody scene and surprisingly Howard was still alive; the entire right side of his neck was hanging on by threads. He clung to life long enough to choke through his own blood and describe the creature that people feared so terribly.

“She took the form of a girl with blonde hair and pale skin. Her voice was as smooth as silk and she had a smile that would make any man feel weak at the knees. It was her face that revealed her true demonic form; she had blood red eyes and vicious fangs that glinted under the moonlight. She was named the Snow White Killer due to her skin being free of imperfections and as flawless as freshly dropped snow.

“It did not take long for me to hear of the story. Pia was the demon that people feared. My sister is dangerous, but she hides it well. Her innocent features have always been her victims’ downfall. She draws them in with her sweet nature before destroying them. Stay away from her and resist taunting Niklaus if she is near. Pia is very dedicated to our brother.”

“And if he decides to come to us?” Caroline stayed silent as Elena spoke with Elijah. She had not yet had a chance to speak to Pia or see her properly. She could hardly call when she was first awakened a true meeting as Pia had been completely out of it at the time. Caroline was anxious; surely the siblings had told their sister of Klaus’ infatuation with her. So, what was her reaction? Should she expect to have to look over her shoulder each time she left the house?

“Be aware of what you say. Pia understands how Niklaus is and how people have a right to despise him, but that does not mean that she has not set a boundary for how much slander she will allow herself to hear.”

Damon raised his brows and took a sip of his bourbon. He could understand how easily she could hypnotise her prey. The air of mystery around this new Mikaelson was alluring and her fair complexion made her hard to ignore. After their fight, he’d thought of how she smiled and enjoyed herself even when in pain. Her eyes had been bright and full of mischief the entire time. “So… another psycho to put down then?”

“Damon, you should really take a care of what you say. They are my family despite their transgressions.” Elijah let his veiled threat hang in the air as he stood and vacated the living area. As he grasped the handle of the front door he turned to look at Elena once more. “Do be more aware of your surroundings for the next few weeks. Pia has not made it known that she wishes to meet you, but I have no doubt that she will be plotting silently to confront you soon enough.” Almost as a second thought he sent a meaningful glance to Caroline, who still remained silent, before he exited the boarding house.

“Well I understood that message loud and clear.” The blonde piped up after letting out a deep breath.

“Okay… so what about the spell? Are we still on for that or are we gonna let a pint-sized she-wolf scare us off?”

“A pint-siz- Damon! That is two Original Hybrids walking freely in our town now!” Elena raised her voice in disbelief as the raven-haired man made light of the situation. “Are you forgetting how close she was to poisoning you with her venom?”

“It’s still on. We may have gotten rid of Esther but Klaus is back to being our number one threat. We take him out before he does something drastic to get Elena.” Bonnie said with finality.

“What if Pia tries to harm Tyler afterwards?” The trap put them all in danger, but Caroline was worried for Tyler. He was planning to leave in the next few days to break the sire bond and the spell would be done once he returned. Would Pia take it out on Tyler once she realises what he has done? After hearing of the Snow White Killer, Caroline was absolutely certain that her lust for blood and ruin would escalate to an unprecedented scale once her brother is desiccated.

“If I need to then I’ll take care of this Pia also.”

-----

Pia remained in a blissful state after having her run with her brother. She had finally begun to truly feel welcomed into this new world and her shoulders were not as tense as they had been recently. She passed through the trees with her sandals in her hand; her beige dress reached her knees and was surprisingly clean to say that she had it left in the forest during their outing. She pulled a stray twig from her hair and stared up at the manor that she now called her home.

She still found it completely out of place in this little town, but now that she had calmed herself, she could see that Niklaus had indeed done a fine job and the building was beautiful to look at. She enjoyed the artefacts that her brother had collected, and despite the modern twists that could be found here and there, the feel of the house gave her comfort. She felt safe in there and the fact that their family had been reunited, minus Finn, made it all the better. There was a small inkling of guilt as she enjoyed the company of her most beloved siblings though. She did think about Finn, but with how much time they had spent apart, and the fact that they had never been very close whilst still human, it made it difficult to truly miss her eldest brother. A small part of her wished that she had spent more time with him, but after living for so long she realised that there would be many regrets that she would experience. All par for the course of being immortal she assumed.

Speaking of which, her gaze turned from the starry sky to the hybrid that walked nearby.

"Tyler?" The boy looked up and bowed his head accordingly. Klaus had been very clear on how his twin should be treated.

“Pia. How can I be of assistance?” His careful tone revealed his uncertainty as he had never been approached by the female before. Pia found herself quite disappointed as she had heard great things about the overconfident baby wolf.

"You are a hybrid. My brother has killed thousands and tortured hundreds to gain the power to create you and the others. You are not a little mouse; you are one of the most powerful beings in all of creation. You shall speak with confidence the next time that you address me. You are not the servant that Klaus treats you as." Tyler felt an odd amount of gratitude at hearing her words. At least Pia seemed to understand their feelings on the matter of how Klaus treated them. "Now, what are you doing? It is almost midnight."

"Patrolling the grounds." Tyler replied simply. Those were his orders: patrol the grounds and report any disturbances. He would be so happy when he manages to sneak away and break this sire bond for good. It was exhausting to protect the people that you despise.

"All of you?" Pia had noticed a few hybrids on her way back to the house. They had all avoided her path but her ancient senses allowed her to hear their footsteps quite clearly.

"Yes, Pia."

"Ugh.” Pia could not have been more annoyed at her brother’s actions. He had spent so many bloody years trying to break his curse and create more hybrids and now he was making them his slaves. Did he not understand how he was only turning them against him? "I am over one thousand years old. I am an Original Hybrid. Niklaus may think of me as some innocent maiden that would be knocked over by a slight gust of wind, but I assure you that I shall be quite fine on my own.” The man in question lurked back behind a tree. Klaus remained silent and smirked at his sister’s words but felt no remorse for keeping the hybrids nearby. Mikael was still at large and he would rather his creations be destroyed than his twin. As far as Klaus was concerned, the hybrids would stay until Mikael was dead.

“Excuse me, Pia. I must get back to my duties.” He had seen the glow of Klaus’ eyes from within the forest and knew that he had a limited window before the Original approached them. He was not in the mood for another slanging match that would no doubt ensue between them both; Caroline had been his favourite topic as of late… at least, she had been until Pia had emerged from her coffin.

“Wait a moment, Tyler.” Oh, Pia was well aware of her mate’s scent as it travelled to her within the breeze. It was perfect timing for him to hear her next words. "Caroline is your other half, correct?"

"Yes..." Tyler did not like where this was going. He had wanted to avoid Klaus’ taunts should he approach, but the sudden look of seriousness in Pia’s eyes made him feel slightly ill. Tyler had been surprised that he had not heard much of Caroline being mentioned by the female when he had overheard her conversations within the house; her suddenly bringing up his girlfriend now made him feel anxious.

"Keep her away from Nik."

"That is difficult considering Klaus' infatuation." Tyler chose his words with care, he did not wish to antagonise her. The blonde hardly ever sought out Klaus’ attention from what he knew of, the Original just always seemed to find Caroline.

"You will keep her away from my brother or I shall bite her and watch as my poison slowly tears your little vampire's brain apart. I will make you listen as every blood vessel shrivels and dies. I will make you watch as she loses herself to the madness. Then, when she finally feels ready to die, I shall rip her heart from her chest and feed it to you and my brother. Have I made myself clear?"

"Y-yes." After seeing his own poison ravage Caroline’s body due to Klaus’ control, Tyler never wanted to see her go through that sheer amount of agony again. He could only hope that his girlfriend would be smart enough to avoid the hybrid pair whilst he was away.

"Good. Leave me." Pia did not look back as she left the slightly shaken hybrid; it was about time that people knew who Niko belonged to… even Klaus appeared to need a reminder. The Original Hybrid emerged from the trees and caught Tyler’s eyes. Tyler silently asked him to leave Caroline alone as his maker walked past him with a blank expression. Only time would tell how the man would react to his twin’s words. Tyler could only hope that he would take them as seriously as he had done… for Caroline’s sake.

Pia felt at ease as she silently glided down the corridor to stop at her sister’s door. She peaked inside to see her younger sibling curled beneath her sheets. She carefully shut the door and placed her shoes on the floor. Rebekah remained with her eyes shut as Pia climbed onto her bed as she used to do many moons ago. She wrapped her sibling up in her arms and relished in the peace. A sharp twinge through her abdomen made her pause and wince a little. What was that? She shook her head as Rebekah stirred beside her; it wasn’t agonising, just annoying. Whatever it was could wait. She huffed as the sudden pain faded away again and pressed a small kiss upon the blonde’s brow, determined to not let the odd sensation ruin this moment.

“Pea?” Rebekah quietly called out into the darkness as her sister was the only person to do this in the past.

“Sssh. Stay in your slumber, Bekah.” Rebekah turned over and gave her a sleepy smile before resting her head upon Pia’s shoulder using it as a pillow. Pia calmly stroked a hand through her sister’s blonde locks and shut her eyes.

A smile remained on her face even as she woke to start a new day.

Things certainly seemed to be looking up for her.

---

Two days later.

“What has Nik been plotting, Elijah?” Pia asked for what seem to be the hundredth time as her eldest brother helped to tie the laces that ran up the back of the dress. The top part of the dress mimicked that of a corset before fanning out into layers of white fabric that stopped just above her knee.  Elijah had walked into her room whilst she and Kol were lazing around and had handed her a package; Niklaus had ordered that she wear this apparently. The parcel was wrapped in red tissue paper with a black bow around it; her name was written in ink on a small tag that was stuck to the bow. She had fought the urge to gasp as she ran her fingers over the soft lace material of the bodice. It was beautiful, but that did not blind her to the motives behind the gift. Pia had looked at him suspiciously before moving behind her antique dressing screen so that she could change and question her siblings at the same time.

She knew that they knew… and they knew that she knew that they knew. Something was afoot.

It would appear that they could not say anything on pain of death though, because Pia had definitely threatened the pair of them with a pout on her face multiple times and they still remained silent.

“He is not plotting anything.”

“Then why are you here doing his bidding?” Elijah let out a sigh as he tied a small bow to finish the lacing before sitting beside a smirking Kol, who was currently stretched out upon her silk sheets.

“Dear Pea, it sounds like you do not trust our brother! What has he done to deserve that?” Kol’s sarcastic tone made her roll her eyes and stamp her foot in exasperation.

“Elijah, please tell me.” Pia was never one to enjoy surprises and so the questioning that Elijah was enduring was not a shock at all. Her gaze pinned him in place as she slipped her feet into the white pumps that Rebekah had oddly given her a few hours before. They were all in on it; the annoyed look in Kol’s eye told her as much. Whatever was happening was not pleasing him. Not at all. She clenched the half-moon pendant that hung from her neck and let out a huff of frustration. She did not need this right now; that annoying ache in her belly had begun again and now she was nervous as to whatever her mate had planned. All in all, she was a little bit stressed. This better be good. Pia unconsciously swayed from side to side and gazed down at her feet.

Kol remained lying on the bed and let out a deep sigh as he noticed her immediately grab her necklace when her anxiety began to spike. Even after all that had happened, she had still kept that bit of moulded metal. It had been Niklaus’ first gift to her and through thick and thin Pia had never been able to part with it. Just as Elijah was once again about to protest his innocence a knock at the door broke the atmosphere. Pia sent her siblings another look of suspicion before answering. Klaus stood on the other side, dressed in one of his finest suits, with a smile on his face. “Are you ready, darling?”

“You know that I despise surprises.”

“I promise that you will not despise this one.” He held out his hand for her to take. “Come with me.”

“What is this about?” Pia still did not move from the boundary of her bedroom. Klaus had to hide the small amount of hurt that pained him as she remained firmly where she was. Despite her hating surprises she would usually follow him to find out what the secrecy was for, but now she showed no signs of being swayed or bending to her own curiosity. Had he truly broken their relationship this much?

“You said that you could not trust me anymore. I want to start making amends. Please, my darling, take my hand and let me start to soothe your worries.”

“Pia…” She turned her head to look back at Elijah. Kol had gotten up from her bed and was looking out of her window; his back was to them and his hand clenched the frame, she noticed. “…you will love it, I promise.” Her eyes flitted back to her twin and she searched his expression. Adoration and longing reflected back at her.

“No more lies?”

“No more lies.” He affirmed before wiggling his fingers causing her to smile a little and bite her bottom lip. She gently took his hand and squeezed back when he tightened his grip for a few seconds. They had made it to the backdoors when Klaus suddenly stopped and turned to her. “I am afraid that I cannot let you ruin the surprise.”

“What do yo-” He quickly moved behind her, pressed his chest against her back and carefully covered her eyes with his palms.

“Let me guide you.” A shiver ran down her spine as his breath hit her ear. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck before nudging her forward. “Trust me.” Her steps were shaky as she let him move her forward. What on earth was going on?

Klaus kept his hands over Pia’s eyes, casually guiding her to the gazebo in the garden with a smile on his face. Rebekah lit the last of the candles and gave a quick glance at the décor as the couple came closer. She gave a satisfied nod and vamped away back inside.

“You can look now, Pia.” She blinked slowly at the sight in front of her. The reasoning behind her ban from the east side of the gardens was now clear.

A beautiful gazebo had been erected for her. A small trail of stepping stones created a path; candles flickered on either side of each stone to light the way. She smiled as she saw the final stone bore hers and Niko’s handprints; they had created it as a plaque in the early 1400s as a sign of their union. She hadn’t even realised that he had kept it. The floor was made of stone that shone due to the multiple circular fairy lights that dangled from the roofing. The roof was held up using four pillars that looked to mimic the old roman style; white climbing roses wrapped around the columns with more small lights peeking through the flowers as further decoration.

In the centre of the stone floor was a red blanket that looked plush and inviting; a cream coloured love seat was to the side with red petals sprinkled on it. A vase with a single white rose, two champagne flutes and an ice bucket with a bottle cooling in it was set in the middle of the throw. Small candles were scattered everywhere to finish off the romantic atmosphere.

“Do you like it?” Klaus whispered into her ear, smiling as she nodded but couldn’t find it in her to speak. “Rebekah has been slaving away all day to help me finish this. I’m sure you’ve seen the inane grin that has graced her face for the last seven hours.” The pair of them sat down on the red blanket and Pia smoothed out her white dress as Klaus filled the flutes with bubbling champagne. She hid her uncomfortable expression at the feeling of tightness in her stomach and focused upon her twin. Perhaps it was just the nerves causing this uncomfortable sensation.

“Indeed, I have. I was struggling to figure out as to why she seemed so pleased and giggly this morning. I did wonder if she was going to meet that Matt creature she has been telling me about.”

“Elijah helped me have the gazebo brought here yesterday when Kol kept you occupied playing Twister… that was an interesting game to observe, by the way.” Pia accepted her flute and narrowed her eyes at her brother’s teasing smile.

“I would have won but he tickled me on the back of my knee when he was able to reach. He played unfairly. I did not wish to cheat like him. He had no chance of winning had he actually played by the rules.” She said with an emotionless tone; the unimpressed look on her face told Klaus just how disgruntled she was at the loss.

“Are you a sore loser, Pia?”

“Kol is a cheat. End of discussion.” Klaus hid his laugh at the look on Pia’s face. She raised an eyebrow as she noticed a dimple beginning to appear. “Are you taking in pleasure in this?”

“No- no, of course not…” He cleared his throat and shook his head innocently as she rather violently took a gulp of champagne. Sometimes he wondered whether she truly was his age. Her competitive streak did sometimes cause her to act like a child… or like Kol, funnily enough. “I am sure you would have won if Kol had not cheated.”

“Yes, I would have.” She said sternly and gave no room for arguments.

“How about we change the subject on to more important matters? The reason why I have asked you here is to try and show you how much you mean to me. You are mine and I am yours, Pia.”

“It did not seem that way when I woke up to see that pretty blonde girl looking at me like I was a dirty little secret.”

“I- I will admit that I did not tell Caroline anything about you.”

“You did not tell anybody about me!”

“Yes, I know… I would like to say it was to protect you but it was also purely selfish on my part. I have created many enemies in my need to break the curse, and so if nobody knew of your existence or our connection, then they could not try and find you.”

“You could have woken me up. You only needed to remove the blade, Niko.”

“I know that as well. I cannot apologise enough for what I did, but even if I told you how sorry I was a million times it would still make no difference. You would still have lost centuries because of me. I daggered all of you to keep you safe. The enemies here pale in comparison to what would have happened had Mikael found us.” A stubborn tear dripped down his cheek as he imagined what Mikael would do should he find Pia now. Their father would make her torture painful and long just to spite him.

“Oh, Niko…” Pia placed her flute beside her and crawled into her brother’s lap; she nestled her face into his neck for a few moments before looking up at his sad expression. “I know that you thought you were doing what was best, even if none of us agree with your methods. You are right. No amount of apologies will bring us back the time that we missed so we will talk of this subject no longer.”

“But, Pia-”

“You said it yourself. What has been done cannot be undone. We need to live in the now. We have been apart for so long and yet all we seem to be doing is rehashing the past. From now on we shall work towards making our future brighter.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I said you needed to rebuild our trust… and this is a start. I cannot promise that things will change immediately…” Her nimble fingers traced around his jawline and up the right side of his face. Her action was sudden as she quickly wrapped her digits in his curls and pulled his head back. She knelt up in his lap and stared down at him. “This is a start. Do you understand?” She did not wish for him to think that this little gift, no matter how stunning it was, would make everything alright again.

“I understand, my love.”

“Good…” She whispered before lowering her lips to his. He remained frozen for a moment until she nipped at his bottom lip and released her grip on his hair. His hands quickly cupped the sides of her face and he tilted her head a little so that their mouths could move in perfect unison. Oh, she had forgotten how soft and plush his lips were. A small growl echoed out of her chest as his tongue gently prodded at hers. Deciding that enough was enough, Pia gripped onto his shoulders and pulled back with a smile upon her face.

“I have another gift for you.” He kept his face close to hers so that his lips brushed against hers whenever he spoke.

“You have already done so much, Niko.”

“Just one more thing, I promise.” Pia sat back on his lap and watched as Klaus carefully removed a small velvet pouch from his pocket. Some of the edges had frayed due to its age but it was mostly intact. Pia’s breath hitched as she recognised the familiar red fabric.

[dearestaeneas]

hi! haven’t done a book upload in a while. i tried working on this throughout nanowrimo, and for the most part i did! i definitely got a huge chunk created during november. currently we’re at 56,672 words! i’ve been feeling insecure about this lately for some reason, i assume its just general insecurities. here’s a little section of my kids. those of you who’ve read sections before haven’t met Adrian yet. i care about that freak a lot, i’m afraid. i hope you like this! but also please, please god, do not hesitate to tell me stuff you dislike, too! (i worried about this being too spoiler-y but i think i post these sections randomly enough that it doesn’t give anything away, really)

as always, other sections of the book are tagged “abc” on my blog or if you go to my table of contents on the pinned post i tag them as “[book exerpt]” :3

---

It was dusk by the time they reached the shop. Branwen’s nervous aura had settled, leaving her lighter. Making a beeline for the bedroom, she lay contentedly, Todd curled up on her stomach. In the next room Celeste’s voice was low and muffled, broken occasionally by the clinking of pots and cups. It was hard to imagine that someday it might not be there. No, she thought. I can’t afford to do that right now. Besides, Ardan is right.

It had been so long since she was forced to think like a mortal that her very being felt shaky, wobbling with centuries of disuse. Back when she was still selling those glorified juices, she’d wondered what it would be like to lose him. At the time, it was too painful to even think about. That meeting with Casek, which at this point felt like centuries ago on its own, awoke another realization in her: she hadn’t missed that life. It was frustrating to not remember his name or his face, but the memories were still there, and Casek was still there. She remembered the ache in her chest and the fear of loss, but loss came and went and she was…fine.

He would be long dead now, a fact that had at one point been her greatest fear. Should she mourn him?

But he wasn’t Celeste. But, the situation itself wasn’t that different, was it? She groaned at the idea of admitting for a second time, even if it was only to herself, that Ardan was right. Things are supposed to die and she was just in the minority. She’s not gone yet. There’s also a sign with the word “might” plastered on it over this whole thing.

The word “eventually” flashed across her mind again. She’d be happy for Celeste if it did happen. Eventually. That was okay for now.

For now, she closed her eyes and took in everything: the feeling of Todd's steady snores against her abdomen; Celeste’s muffled voice, now broken by muffled giggles from Ardan; distant sounds of music, seeping in from the street.

The music grew louder until Todd stirred. Now it was mingled with the sounds of voices blending together, shouting and singing and laughing. The dog rose, groggy for only a moment before howling in unison with the blaring horns from the street. Branwen trailed behind him, entering the empty main room. Todd pawed at the front door, which Celeste opened from outside. Her face lit up at the sight of a confused Branwen, pulling her through the door saying, “We thought you were asleep!”

A stream of bodies, not too unlike the sea the roads became when the circus visited, poured past the rows of buildings. Fireflies speckled the sky, bright against what was now a navy so deep it was almost black. There was order in this stream, though: the edges of the street were lined with people watching as the parade ambled past, the sounds of brass and snares floating above them. People walked alongside the parade, balloons clutched in hand. A tall woman dressed in a sparkling purple suit broke ranks to lean toward them, brandishing a rose to Ardan with a wink. Her uniform closely resembled that of the band behind her, the gold detailing of it blazing whenever the light from the fireflies caught it.

The lightning bugs themselves danced with the music, bouncing with the melody. Their lights alone were dull but together lit the streets in such a way that the lamps were almost unnecessary.

Performers in all silver now passed by, walking on their hands or carrying one another on their shoulders. The parade stopped, the band marking time in place as the gymnasts entered formation. They climbed one another until they formed a pyramid, upon which a lone performer began climbing like stairs. Once at the top he gave a deep bow before jumping further into the sky and becoming a bat. The pyramid collapsed neatly, like a stack of cards, and the pile of bodies became one. The man stood to raucous applause and bowed as deeply as his colleague, who popped back into the air above him in his human form. He landed comfortably on the man’s shoulders and the applause doubled. The parade resumed, the performers cartwheeling away as one massively tall creature.

Someone dressed like a ringleader handed out balloons to the watchers, their lipstick the same vibrant green as their long braids. They blew theatrical kisses to Celeste and Branwen after thrusting two purple and gold striped balloons into their hands. Ardan laughed brightly as his friends mimicked the gesture back at them as something caught his eye. On the other side of the parade stood a tall man whose hands were buried deep in his pockets. No one else seemed to take any notice of him, but he appeared to be studying the crowd. His dark eyes seemed to be studying them in particular. Heat rose in Ardan’s cheeks as Adrian’s face split into a grin. He waved and despite the throng around and between them, Ardan felt his stomach drop at the understanding no one saw the movement except him. A new wave of performers passed by- this time in gold with purple detailing- and once the other side of the street came back into view Adrian was gone.

[more-than-a-princess]

"I can fare just fine at a 'debauchery party,' thank you very much," Sonia quipped in return, her pout pausing only when she realized how such a phrase could be interpreted. "I simply choose not to make them a habit. Possible scandals and all, and I daresay everyone has their hands full with the future duke anyway." Just as Liam would want it, she knew: he'd told her once that his future would never be a happy one, at least with how the Novoselic Royal Family was currently run. So having as much fun, no matter the risk, seemed like the only way to spend his life, without much care for the consequences. Too many nights had been spent sharing a bottle of amber-colored liquor, Sam studying his music or pilot training or some other talent he far excelled his brother and cousin in. Liam lived life lightly, sometimes too light for Sonia's heart to take: the reasoning broke it every time. If there was one promise she wanted to keep as Queen, it was for him to live openly and honestly about who he was.

Hopes like that...that kept her going, even to formal dinners where she was only invited in order to compromise her morals. Or least, attempt to force her into doing so. Sonia sighed, leaning further back into the plush chair than was deemed ladylike. "I must use my naivete to my advantage, or else I will be taken advantage of," She told him resolutely before turning her head to look at him, her look weary: by the topic, not him. Never him, as her blue eyes pleaded for a change of topic once she'd confirmed his concerns. "That is the path towards being jaded, is it not? If my kindness can be believed to be ignorance, then no one expects much of me. All the more surprising for them, then, when their assumptions catch them off-guard. But...thank you: I could not do this job without holding onto my principles. The crown will consume me otherwise one day. I am trying to ensure that does not happen, but it is not as simple as my father made it out to be when I was young. I am not sure if the Novosonian people agree with you on the last bit, though: that they are fortunate to have me as a ruler one day."

If just for the fact they would have a reigning queen, something even the most open-minded of Novosonians had a difficult time swallowing. The track record of women in power in the history of the country counted as a sole reigning queen from five centuries ago, the only ruler who ever got close to having Novoselic invaded by enemies. Since then, the country has remained safe, neutral, and prosperous, to both praise and criticism around the world.

Having Sonia as queen one day would bring enough unrest to Novoselic, to some degree. She frowned at the advice, keeping magecraft and the world he resided in well away from hers, but she knew it was coming from a kind place. It just made the space between them feel all the bigger, and not just the space from her cozy easy chair to the bed he currently occupied. "Well, that will be to the relief of...well, everyone besides me, really," Sonia admitted with a groan. "My occult hobby is already a problem, should it ever be found out. I suppose informing my family that magecraft exists and that we have been unwelcoming to mages, possibly to our detriment, is a conversation to spare them from. I am sorry they disregarded you, though: magic circuits should not have to prove anyone's worth. Especially yours."

Not that other governments around the world were terribly open about knowledge or dealings with mages and magecraft. Or if they were, they kept those conversations far away from the Novoselic Royal Family. Another example of ignorance, Sonia supposed, alongside her own. Though this time, her own came in the form of how Shirou felt about her borrowing his books.

"That is where you are wrong!" She accused, giving him her best attempt at a playful glare: narrowed eyes before breaking into a smile. "I keep plenty of secondhand items in my possession: or older, especially if it is family heirlooms. But much of my occult and horror film collection pieces are acquired secondhand. For collectors, sourcing preloved items can often mean they are quite rare and well-loved and taken care of. But if you cannot keep them, I shall be glad to give them a good home. You could even..."

A pause, a shiver. Whether it was due to the chill or her next thought, Sonia would never admit. "You could even visit when you like, if you should like to read them again. I shall ensure that you are given access to the library at Boudry House, whenever you wish."

That hadn't solved the blanket issue, but Shirou had taken that into his own hands. Literally, as Sonia watched him use his circuits to create an oversized coat. Oversized for her, anyway: it would likely fit him perfectly in a color he seemed to care for far more as an adult than he ever had as a teenager. To her knowledge, anyway. "Thank you," She murmured, taking the coat gingerly in her hands. She knew by now that what he conjured was real: weight and feel and everything else that had to do with the object he had in mind. But that didn't make it any less remarkable. Sonia slipped it over her shoulders and put her arms through the sleeves. As expected, both were too wide and too long for her shorter, slighter frame, but it allowed her to pull it tight over her cocktail dress like the blankets she'd been searching for.

"It is warm..." She smiled, rolling up the cuffs just a little for her hands to move easily before snuggling back down into the chair. No blanket or sweater or robe could compare. "Is that a lingering effect of the magecraft, Shirou? It feels...like you have recently worn it. That sort of warmth. It is wonderful." Now, her only danger was falling asleep during the film, in her cocktail dress, and not in her own bed, properly dressed and ready for sleep. Of course, the footmen outside would hear Shirou if he needed anything but it was the principle of it all. He deserved a quiet place to recuperate and didn't need to be at the receiving end of household gossip, if she were caught sound asleep in his room.

His friend always spoke about Cecily in such high regard that Shirou was under the impression she was a miracle worker. Even when Sonia had her bouts of fancy she had always been very disciplined and some of her rebellious inclinations were easy to foresee and carter to. The perchance for the occult, for example, or how much she enjoys horror movies. Only occasionally she would be a little more adventurous so Cecily certainly would be able to arrange or at least foresee a few contingency plans — or so Emiya believed. If he was right on the money or if Sonia was overselling it was still up to debate.

❝ Ah, so it is the latter.  I understand, you intervening in your cousin’s hunt for fun could actually be detrimental to my chances of escaping unscratched ? Or perhaps you are like me and doesn’t know the basics of surviving that kind of party ? ❞ he teased. It was hard to imagine Sonia engaging in debauchery indulgence even if she might be surrounded by it due to the nature of her job as the crown princess. ❝ You know, the fact that you won’t compromise on your core values is one of the things that is most admirable about you. ❞ as someone who travels and deals with all sorts of powerful individuals, Shirou had witnessed many kinds of leaders. The more powerful they are they usually lean to use their influence to get what they want – more power, money, sex, drugs… Those who have it all like to play fast and loose with morals, accumulating all sorts of excess and discarding those who aren’t on their level without a second thought. He’d heard about Sonia’s mother’s lovers from rumors and hints from the princess herself, yet the queen’s perfectly curated image paints her as a saint. It was praiseworthy that Sonia wants to uphold her morals and remain hopeful in the process. ❝ I can tell people tend to think you are naïve, they think that not becoming jaded or petty like them means ignorant. Your kindness is both your greatest asset but also your weak spot. The people of Novoselic are fortunate to have such a wonderful ruler.  ❞ —Still memories of a certain King of Knights made his heart feel tight.

❝ I think it might be a good idea to keep Novoselic relatively magic-free. ❞ he spoke frankly ❝ Political relationships are usually complicated enough, but mages can be downright inhumane. Some think as non-mages as little more than cattle, so a few selected ones you may be able to trust can inject some money in the country and offer support against mages with funny ideas. Luvia-san and her family can play their reputations of the “hyenas of Europe” but they are very caring and never go back with their word. ❞ he was actually a little surprised that the Church and its related branches like the Burial Agency barely have any dealings with Novoselic as well. ❝And I wasn’t talking about my own abilities as a mage, I was talking about people like you. You might be royal and a crown princess, but for most mages it is the same as nothing. Royal or homeless, if you don’t have magic circuits it makes barely any difference. During a ritual that took place in Fuyuki no-one paid any attention to me because at the time I didn’t have enough magic circuits to be considered a mage – just part of the peanut gallery. ❞ he revealed whilst dispelling her confusion ❝ This is one of the many reasons why you should be careful if you ever decide to allow the Mage’s Association to go back to Novoselic. Tohsaka and Luvia-san are exceptions, and there are a few individuals who won’t dismiss you . But you should be wary of mages, thankfully most of them chose to isolate themselves from regular humans unless it benefits them somehow. ❞ that was a harsh reality and kind of a dour conversation subject.

–  That was immediately brushed away by Sonia’s outburst, that caused Shirou to pause and blink before chuckling to the point of going “ow ow”  thanks to his stitches. Once he’d calmed down, he was able to articulate better: ❝ I’m always traveling around and I can’t keep my books. I end up giving them away or leaving them behind because I can’t store them. Knowing that a book that made me happy is in good hands will be perfect. ❞ he explained ❝ I know that a princess like you might not think too highly of second-hand articles but I promise you that I usually take good care of books. ❞ …A few of them had bullet holes tho. Those are usually discarded. ❝ A book is meant to be read after all. And to share a story with someone I know might enjoy it would be the best outcome, don’t you think ? But if you don’t want them, I understand. ❞

He watched as the girl struggled, it was indeed a little chilly and he was afraid that the blanket he was using might have been dirtied with his blood so it would also be no good. There was only one thing that he could do: ❝ Tʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴏɴ ! ❞ he hummed, mana pouring through his magic circuits activating it. In the past it would take a few seconds to retrieve the structure and picture it in his mind, now it was instantaneous : it was a dark burgundy windbreaker coat, it was warm enough despite not fitting her current aesthetic. It was also his size, he can’t create anything only reproduce things that he’d seen before. ❝ Use this, it will protect you from the draft. ❞ he indicated, holding it to her.

[fatuismooches]

FUCK I TOTALLY FORGOT TO SEND YOU AN ASK ABOUT THE FIC... i just got hit full force but like 89831 different fucking projects all at once MY BAD POOKIE BUT UGHHHHHHH oh my god.... part 2??? yes.. all of it is soooo YESS

YESS you visualized everything what you've been talking about how reader would react when they first wake up after centuries and honestly hella realistic EVEN THOUGH I JUST WANNA HOLD READER AND KISS THEIR FOREHEAD 😭😭😭

reader interacting with the segments has my HEARTTT oh my god.. especially omega.. he's SUCH A DEVIOUS MOTHERFUCKEGUJK,,, also reader naming the segments UGHHH i adore that idea so much pleaseee ,, i love how the segments who didn't give a shit suddenly changed their minds when reader said they wanna give them names... THE SWITCH UP AND THE IMMEDIATE DENIAL...

READER MEETING BABY ZANDY ,,, FUCKINGG hell got me sooo soft i wanna hold baby zandy and treat him soo nicely 🥹🥹

ALSO YESS omgg,,, this part has me sooo fucking soft like reader making friends??? with the other harbingers??? i love it... omg they'd be such good besties with columbina,, i think pantalone helps reader adjust to present time as well, especially with it comes with money or the economy (if you ever ask him about it)

but oh.... to top it all off nicely, you gotta sneak in some subtle angst!!! smh... (im so proud of you tho!! like yasss sis feed me sad shit >:333) poor scara and reader :( i think they would've gotten along if reader wasn't dottore's lover n' scara wasn't dottore's experiment ,,,

ALL IN ALL. fuck you pookie im not excited for the next two parts (im kidding I AM IM JUST... NOT READY... pleas epost it next year so i'll be ready enough thank you /jjj) NO SERIOUSLY THIS TIME,, THIS WAS SOOO GOOOD and i love it so much, really popped off honestly (evil laughs because it's dottore)... like im soo happy to see how much you've grown esp thru writing !!!

have a good day pookie, im going back to my grave where i died for the next few days 💗💗

ALSO I WAS GONNA SEND IN ANOTHER DOTTORE IDEA but i fucking forgot again. FUCKS SAKE i hate not writing shit down...

POOKS DONT EVEN WORRY!! Just make sure to take care of yourself ok?? School can really be an ass i understand-

BUT OMG GRENFRG AHHH YOU'RE MAKING ME SMILE TOO MUCH POOKIE AHHWQ I'm so happy you liked it 🥺 BUT NGL I WANNA GIVE READER THE BIGGEST HUG TOO 😭 i put them through too much don't i 😭 dw they will be getting Dottore comfort next chapter!!

Bro i love writing Omega as a devious mf so much 😭 IM SO GLAD U LIKED THAT PART BC I WAS GIGGLING TO MYSELF ABT HOW THEY DGAF ABT THINGS BUT THEN SUDDENLY THEYRE INTERESTED WHEN UR A PART OF IT

AND YESSSS READER MAKING FRIENDS RAHHHH that part was probably really long for a Dottore fic but. i feel like having friends is so important and fragile reader really deserve some niceness in their lives 🥺 AND OMG NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT. Fragile reader would be freaking blown away from inflation. i don't know how prices were four hundred years ago but they would probably be shocked to their core when they see how much expensive things are now?? imagine fragile reader trying to stop Dottore from buying things for them because of how expensive things are now, and they're having flashbacks to being a broke Akademiya student 😭 And Dottore is just honestly finding it amusing to see you freak out and beg him to save his money (it's okay, he's a Harbinger he's loaded) (as long as he's not spending it on experiments)

BUT YEAH MAYBE IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE... reader and Scara could have been friends :( we'll never know... but yasss i will continue to feed you sad shit >:) hehe I CANT WAIT TO POST THE FINAL PART!! ngl the ending of the fic was like. the first thing i wrote for it because it hit me and i was like i CANT forget this. im telling you pookie its gonna be pretty juicy. BUT THANK YOU YOU'RE BEING SO KIND AHHH it's really sweet of you. thank you for being here for so long in my writing journey (and my descent into Dottore madness) ily 🥺

[lmk-monkey-madness]

how did maq get possessed anyway?

So hopefully this isn't going to be to confusing but basically possession is a form of magic and magic in most sense is tied to emotions in some way or another. Well when someone is possessed the person controlling them exploits one emotion and it typically varies between the victim which emotion gets exploited. At least that's what it is in my AU.

Macaque was jealous and Jiǔlíng yuánshèng added fuel to the fire so to speak so he would only get more and more jealous of Wukong until Yuánshèng finally had full control and then trapped Macaque in his own jealous rage.

[darkened-writer]

The Future is Bright | Steve Harrington x Reader

Request || HELLO i’ve never requested any fix ever and i couldn’t find your rules so if i go against them please don’t write this but could you PLEASE write something about steve talking with the reader about their future??? maybe like talking over marriage or something??? that little conversation about wanting to have kids got under my skin and i CANNOT stop thinking about it 

Pairing || Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings || A smidge of angst if you SQUINT

Word Count || 874

A/N || Request by @lyssa-enrose !! I hope you enjoy !!

The quiet rumble of the RV had almost everyone asleep, except for Max and Dustin, who were having a quiet conversation about the incoming battle that would be knocking at our doorstep. I sat in the passenger seat, directly to the right of Steve, his eyes on the road and a resting look on his face, as if he was in thought. 

The only thoughts in my mind were what we were going to grab at the “War Zone Surplus” store, my own skills in battle being more drawn towards a crossbow or basic revolver. However, if we were going to survive any of this, even I would have to buck up and use anything I can to help.

The conversation behind Steve and I came to a stop, as a silenced sound of Kate Bush was flowing from Max’s headphones on her ears. Dustin, opting to stare out of the window, in thought as Steve was.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?”

I turned my gaze to Steve, who was now side-glancing at me, while still keeping a keen eye on the road.

The thought of marriage had not crossed my mind since a couple years into our relationship, the majority of time being taken by fighting off various monsters and particles alike. But, when the peace-period rolled around, the thought had lingered like a cough that won’t come out of a throat. The idea of walking down an aisle, Joyce passing me off to Steve, cheers from Dustin and El, a white gown adorned on my body, and Steve’s magnetic smile, it all seemed a happy fancy when we fought the evil forces of the “Upside Down”.

“I have… why ask about it now when we’re about to gear up to fight a literal monster.”

He pauses, looking over his shoulder at the tired group of kids and early adults, who haven’t even experienced a fraction of long lives ahead of them, before turning to look me.

“You know… when we first met, through Nancy, I knew you were different…”

His eyes shifted, “We worked well in battle, and I knew that it had to be you. It was always going to be you, regardless of how many chicks I aimlessly flirted with...-”

I let out a chuckle, and he grinned at it, continuing his “speech”.

“So, once we put this sucker in the ground and assure that everyone is safe… I want to marry you. A sincere and wholesome marriage with a layers tall cake, and cheesy music, and god, I really want to see you in a wedding dress… clutching a bouquet, with a ring on your finger.”

I couldn’t help but let the tears fall, a smile arising on my cheeks, the feeling foreign and odd to me.

“We can even have a gaggle of little me’s and little you’s. The Harringtons! Six little nuggets to pass our badassery onto.”

I look over my shoulder at the group, smiling a bit, “It seems we’ve had practice over these years.”

“We sure have, so… will you marry me after all of this?”

The idea of a white-picket fence, six kiddos, and many smiles was the most appealing thing my mind could show me, my head moving up and down. Steve’s eyes widened with a glimmer of hope, as he clutched the steering wheel with a look in his eyes, determination.

“When we fight, you BETTER stay safe, cannot risk losing future Mrs. Harrington.”

I let my gaze go back to the road ahead of us, a smile large and bright on my face.

“We’ll win, Steve... I can just feel it.”

However, during the battle, Y/N stayed with Dustin and Eddie, bandana clad on her forehead and crossbow in her arms. The coldness of the metal of her revolver was rubbing her thigh. 

The metal concert of the century had given her newfound hope until the demobats broke into the RV, forcing the three to evacuate to the real world as Steve had said to do, but Eddie Munson had other plans, his own heroism getting ahead of his survival as he exited the RV and got on a bike to lure the bats away.

Y/N however, was not one to let a friend die, and she followed the boy into danger, saving his life but getting horribly hurt by many bites and flesh torn from her arms, legs, and mid-section.

She eventually woke up in the hospital after Eddie carried the girl back to the RV, nursing her wounds until Steve, Robin, and Nancy arrived, Steve immediately getting her to the hospital before the hordes of people started filtering in due to the gates opening over miles and miles.

Her view was set on Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie all sat in chairs in the hospital room. Steve having moved his chair next to her bed to hold her hand, but what shocked her was the feeling on coldness on her ring finger, her eyes drifting down to see a ring, which looked like a family heirloom from the Harringtons, to be their engagement ring. And, as of right now, having all of her friends in the room, her fiancé safe and sound, the future looked bright.

[survivors-adapt]

"Hit the nail on the head. Five cycles ago, we had a republic, it had worked great for centuries upon centuries, then, like eight cycles ago, there was a sort of civil war. Started on one planet, half of the citizens wanted to leave the Republic the others wanted to stay, people like me, Jedi, were sent to go try and broker peace. The Jedi of the day thought it worked, the threat was dealt with, the people were happy, the Jedi came back to the temple on the capital planet. But after that it just kept getting worse, whole planets wanted to pull out of the Republic, none of the things they claimed to have issues with made sense, and the more the Jedi had to investigate, broker peace, and fight the more we found out that a group known as the sith, who we thought were gone for good, had resurfaced and been behind the whole separatist movement. The sith, just as a rudimentary comparison, are like the Jedi but smaller in numbers and evil. The Jedi now suddenly and without explanation have a whole army of clones to lead into battle as these civil wars get worse. Nobody has explained to me where the clones came from, so I got no idea. We get to the third year of this kriff, it's almost over, I'm thirteen at this point and second in charge of a whole battalion of clones, my training has only just started, ok? We are en route to the temple, middle of space in a war ship, when suddenly the commander, the third in charge, clone in charge of the rest of the clones, he gets a message from the capital and suddenly my master and I are being chased and the clones have a blood lust. I'm not good enough in a fight yet to take on the clones even by my masters side, so I get sent through the vents to try and get to an escape pod, losing my weapon when I trip at one point, and meeting back up with my master at the escape pods. He does his best to protect me, dies in the process, I get this scar," he turns his head so Tony can see the scar along his cheek better. "The next sunrise on the planet I crash on I'm hearing about this new empire taking the place of the Republic, the old head chancellor is in charge of it and the jedi are being labeled as traitors and betrayers and the coolest jedi to ever live died protecting a classroom full of younglings from the clones! He was the closest out of all of us to the clones! Anyways, I spent the next five years, scared out of my mind, scrapping the very ships I once lived on during the war so the empire can turn them into new ships on the planet I crashed on. The empire ends up finding me, sent some inquisitors after me who used to be padawans just like me to Jedi Masters but they were tormented until they broke and gave in. When they find me, so do two of my friends, a pair of rebels looking for a device only Jedi and sith can use that holds the names and locations of hundreds of force sensitive kids, kids who under the Republic would have been taken in and trained by the Jedi to use their powers for good. Takes us some time but eventually we got it, then it was taken from us by the strongest sith ever, we dropped an ocean on him to try and escape with the device, we get back on the ship and I decided to just break it, destroy the information, the kids are safer that way until we can rebuild the Jedi, cuz as far as I knew at the time there was just me, and the retired Jedi that found me when the inquisition did. After that quest was finished, we joined the rebellion properly and we've been helping however we can ever since... Except now I'm lost past the outer rim and the other force user on my team doesn't have a lightsaber, kriff!" He finally takes a breath

@survivors-adapt

Cal lands (crashes) the Mantis in the middle of Central Park, stumbling out and holding BD1 to his chest protectively. "Greez is gonna be pissed..." He mumbles, looking down at the droid, who beeps up at him

Tony flies his armor over the crash site. “JARVIS, let NYPD know that it’s a spaceship.” He said, trying hard not to geek out.

[rayofsunas]

pretending you’re not his s/o. [1]

A/n: happy Thursday!! whew, the week is almost over thank goodness. I hope you’re all doing well and thank you for being patient while I knock out these requests <333 Scaramouche’s is long for obvious reasons (I simp) ALSO thank you for 800 followers, I hit that milestone yesterday ahagdwcsh omg I’m growing so much wtf. thank you all :) <33 

Summary: the boys having to pretend their s/o is their secretary, maid, friend, etc. (someone other than their s/o)

Parings: Childe/Reader, Venti/Reader, Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Aether/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Chongyun/Reader, Xingqiu/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Razor/Reader, Bennett/Reader, Zhongli (fem and gn mixed)

Warnings: violence tbh (in Scara’s especially chile), swearing, crack, angst?, fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Requested by bestie @mintydump​ 

Refuses (tells people you’re his s/o and compromises the mission)

Childe: for some odd reason, he was sent out by the Tsaritsa to retrieve a man who was impersonating one of the eleven harbingers and you were to go along. she said men were much more willing to follow along, if there was a beautiful woman promising affection, etc. the only problem was, to win over the impersonator, you had to pretend to be Childe’s co-worker. he hated this idea, and the minute he left, he reassured you he would not call you his partner unless it was romantically. so hell yeah, he’ll compromise the mission and will return without the impersonator. he does not care, you’re not his co-worker. he’ll just be like, “sorry, next time send me alone.”

Venti: jean why... ofc you'd be great company duh, but why did you need to be his babysitter on this expedition?!? sure, Venti may look like a child, but this was stupid! he’s loose-lipped anyways, so he’ll accidentally let it slip to whoever that you’re not his babysitter and that you’re his s/o. he’ll be like, “oops.” with the biggest shit-eating grin. he doesn’t care though, you’re not his babysitter grrr. 

Razor: he also accidentally lets it slip you’re his s/o. hunters were after him and his friends, you included (you’re human, he considers you family though, therefore wolf) and he just yells, “don’t touch my mate, GRRR” before ya know, ending them lmao. it never crossed his mind that maybe it wasn’t in his/your best interest to say what you were to him. other hunters could be nearby listening and then target you at a later date. but, tbh he will worry about that another day. as long as you’re safe now, he’ll always be there to protect you. 

Refuses (he doesn’t refuse the mission, but he refuses calling you someone other than his s/o/he won’t say if you’re his s/o or not.) 

Kaeya: he definitely won’t be calling you anything other than his s/o but he also won’t offer this mission to anyone else. he’s more than capable and he can do this without you having to be in danger too. if someone asks who you are, he’ll just cooly respond with, “none of your business.” and move on. he’ll use that whenever someone asks who you are. even if someone gets a little pushy, he won’t use anything to clue them of your relationship.

Xingqiu: he was supposed to borrow steal a book from someone. he needed it for personal purposes lol; it would be great for his collection. and from his understanding, the person who has it wasn’t using it. though you were confused on why he needed to break into somewhere to retrieve it. you just happened to be with him when he broke in, he says it was an accident that you were there, but tbh it’s all part of the thrill and his mischievousness. despite Chongyun warning him that he shouldn’t have brought you, he still did. and when the person who owns the book whips out a sword and then asks why you were brought along if you seemed timid and unreluctant to steal, Xingqiu’s response is, “well she’s my girlfriend! duh.” cue deadpan. legit no hesitation.

Scaramouche: this mission is happening no matter what. the Tsaritsa’s life is on the line; highly trained assassins from all over Teyvat were sent into Snezhnayan territory to kill her. she could protect herself, but Scaramouche was feeling feverish for battle; he was one of the more unhinged and dangerous harbingers, she entrusted this task upon him. he never turned down a mission. plus, it’s your fault you’re even here. why are you here again!? he left you home in Inazuma days ago. also... who the hell was looking after your daughter if not you...?? when you caught up with him once he was well away from Liyue Harbor’s docks (so he couldn’t force you to get back onto the ship, smart) you told him you weren’t some housewife and you missed the thrill of adventure, so you snuck on the ship too. he wasn’t sure how you got on in the first place without alerting The Kanjobugyo (you’ve snuck out before, so he’s told them not to let you leave, though he assumed you used your former title of a Fatui to gain clearance) let’s just say he’s not happy you’re here, but he’s not turning back now, he’s determined to end this. in the end, he kills all the assassins (ofc). on your way back to Liyue Harbor, arguing about why you’re here (you’re losing), another assassin comes out of the shadows; intent on killing the both of you. he’d managed to grab the end of your hair in his fist and was going to slit your throat. Scaramouche will say, “don’t touch my wife, you insolent scum.” he doesn’t have a problem telling those who have a death wish of your intimate relationship, because they’ll die in the end anyway; therefore to him, it’d be like they never knew. 

Zhongli: not many people know you’re his s/o anyways, so if he has something to do, especially dangerous you’re not coming along. he’ll make sure of that. on missions or something, he refuses to call you anything other than his s/o, but if he can’t/wants to keep it private he’ll call you by your name. if you’re facing off against someone, he’ll be like, “y/n, please watch out, I’ll handle this.” he never wants to put you in danger, and tbh even someone threatening who knows your name is a risk, but if they ever found out that you were not only his s/o but the s/o of an Archon? yeah, you’d be on a hit list just like him. 

Accepts (he will do this and won’t ask any questions)

Diluc: sorry y’all, but once this is discussed in full and you agree, he’s going to accept it. this mission is important. it’s not often people travel into Inazuma, so he was very lucky his wine is sold there and that he has a popular, well-known name. shipments of his wine weren’t making it into the borders and he was to find the culprit behind it; someone was stealing obviously. you were to go along with a few other soldiers and when jean told him it would be safer to call you his maid and not his fiancé, he agreed. you wouldn’t be a target that way. if anyone wonders why he took his maid, he’ll just say, “she’s to travel everywhere with me.” don’t worry, after the missions over he’ll reassure you he doesn’t think of you as his maid, definitely not. he’ll apologize profusely. “please don’t think of yourself that way, you’re not my maid, I adore you very much, sweetheart.”

Xiao: he already doesn’t go around calling you his wife or telling just anyone, only the Archons know and the fallen Yaksha once knew (you’re one of the female Yaksha) so being talked into this wasn’t a big deal at all. before, he didn’t run around Liyue telling people about your relationship because you both enjoyed the privacy. but now, having to call you his fellow Yaksha who’s been working alongside him for centuries, kinda feels like he’s ignoring or not acknowledging you. sure, you do hold the same titles (Yaksha) and yes you’ve known eachother for centuries, but really, you’ve been together for centuries. if you’re not bothered, then he doesn’t mind. but if you are? he’s very apologetic and will repay you in some way. “you’re not a weakling, you have no reason to worry.” he needs to do this task, he’ll never turn away from the people and if you have to be known as your Yaksha title to him and others, so be it. 

Chongyun: it’s not that he doesn’t want to call you his s/o. it’s just he’s a quiet guy and never has told anyone about your relationship; only Xingqiu knows. so he has no problem introducing you as his friend to absolute strangers, especially if you’re okay with it. if you’re not and tell him, he’ll be sure to never call you a friend again. he’s really looking out for your safety, people can be two-faced as he’s learned from Xingqiu’s fantasy books. he wants to protect and keep you safe, and if you need to be addressed as his friends a few times then that’s how it’s going to go. 

Accepts (he’ll accept but he has so many questions on why and hates it)

Albedo: he will accept if there’s a logical reason. for example, if you absolutely need to come because you’re his assistant or something and can offer your expertise, he will accept. but if you have no need? you’re not coming, please stay home. the whole time, he hates this. yes, you’re his assistant irl, but you’re his s/o, not just an assistant. it makes him sick that he has to call you that tbh, even if it’s your occupation. but it’s necessary for a lot of reasons you two have already discussed. after the mission is complete, he’s never going to stop apologizing. “love, please do not take what I said to heart, you’re not just an assistant.”

Aether: he has to be talked into this a lot. once kaeya and jean tell him the seriousness and importance of seeing his sister again, especially after all they’ve discovered about her, he’ll agree. no matter how much he hates calling you his travel partner, he has to. his sister has turned to the dark side for whatever reason and this meeting already is risky enough. if she finds out you’re his girlfriend, who knows how she’ll react; she’s very unpredictable now, a little unhinged even. but it does hurt to have to call you that, let’s be real. he never wants to say or hear that ever again.

Bennett: he knows he’s quite unfortunate, so you going with him on expeditions is just stupid and you could face something awful due to his bad luck. you go either way though, what a good s/o :) he almost slips a few times, especially facing off against a few lowlife Fatui. but then you remind him of the dangers of doing that and you’re immediately just a friend/member of Benny's Adventure Team. pls, he hates this so much, like why can’t he call you what you are?!? he’s constantly like, “well why can’t I just say you’re my s/o already? they won’t harm you as long as I’m here!” ?!?!?!? HE JUST DID?!?!?!?!

2.25.21, rayofsunas 

[daryfromthefuture]

An AU I'm currently obsessed with

...something going wrong with the locomotive or something and leaving Doc and Marty stuck in 1885?!

I MEAN

Marty is forced to live in a time 100 years before his own forEVEr (Here's the inspiration fic btw, 10/10 would recommend, some ideas are from there, too)

So anyway, some thoughts:

Doc is obviously in love with Clara, and now that he's stuck in the 1880s, he can...well, live with her for the rest of his life. Basically, he doesn't mind staying in his favorite era. He often goes on dates with her and spends the evenings rather with her than staying in the stable and actually try and work on plans to repair the time machine/build a new one.

Guess who doesn't like that at all? Correct: Marty. He feels completely lost and now also abandoned by the only person that is familiar to him in the Old West. He tries to tell Doc that he feels left behind, but Doc doesn't understand and tells him that it'll pass and that of course he would never leave him. While getting ready for the next stargazing date :(

Two months later, Doc is already planning on proposing to Clara. Marty meanwhile keeps his feelings to himself and bottles them up like a professional, and even manages to keep a straight face when Doc tells him about his plans about him and the schoolteacher. The night Doc is off to ask The Big Question, Marty wanders to the saloon and tries his mother's method of dealing with problems: Drinking. That does NOT go well, and he ends up being brought back to the stable by either Seamus or Chester. When Doc comes home after having recieved a "yes" from Clara concerning their marriage, he isn't pleased to find Marty drunk af.

The morning afterwards, Marty wakes up with a bad hangover. When Doc then proceeds to yell at him, he snaps. Imma write that scene out bc I have it in my head:

"Marty, what do you THINK you were doing last night?! Drinking, are you serious? You know that you're not helping yourself adjust to this century by simply trying their whiskey!" The teen sitting on the bed didn't reply, so the scientist continued his lecture: "I already have my hands full with my job as blacksmith, my now impending wedding and the time machine. Do you really have to make it even harder for me?" That was it. Marty had have enough. "What do you mean, hard?! You seem to be living your best life here! You can do something you like and try new stuff. Hell, I don't even have my damned guitar! And you got Clara, while Jennifer and my family are a hundred years in the future. I don't have anyone here, Doc. Except you. But, no, you don't need me around anymore. Why waste your time on some stupid kid when you can go and relax with a smart and beautiful lady? Exactly, there's no reason to." Doc's facial features abruptly softened. "What?" Marty cursed as he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He didn't need crying now, he had a headache already. "You- you heard me. I know you don't give a shit about me anymore, but at least tell me that." Emmett wondered if one was able to hear his heart shattering. While he had been so focused on courting Clara, and spending time with her, he had completely forgotten that Marty was here as well. While he had been trying his best at making Clara happy, and taking care of her, he hadn't done the same for Marty. And the boy was under his charge now, after all. Doc now completely understood why Marty had been drinking - if he felt so alone... He slowly sat down next to Marty on the edge of the bed. "I- I didn't realize you felt that way." Marty looked up from the floor, a couple tears rolling down his cheeks. "Maybe it's because you never asked," he said quietly, before wiping at his face. "I'm sorry, Marty," Emmett said. And he meant it. "I do care about you. Very much. Please forgive me for making you think otherwise." The teen nodded, but then broke down in quiet sobs. "I'm- I'm sorry too. I'm being a selfish jerk. You've finally found love, and here I am, jealous." "You're not to blame," Doc spoke softly, "I would've felt the same way if I was you." He gently reached forward and brought Marty into his arms, holding him tightly. "I'm here, Marty, I'm here. I promise."

(Not me totally crying over the last bit.)

Anyway, after Doc and Clara get married, Marty settles down with them in a new house. Doc is very paranoid about not changing stuff about the future, and so Marty mostly spends his time writing random songs or helping Doc with his blacksmithing. However, he starts to get bored and at the same time begins to lose his hopes of ever getting home.

About Doc and Clara's kids? Look, Doc really did NOT want kids. Not because he doesn't want them but because of the potential damage to the space-time-continuum and all that. Eventually, Clara gets pregnant and Doc panics. But then he calms down and realizes that ok, maybe the universe won't collapse.

Our boy Marty, after seemigly having made peace with the fact that Doc is a married man, is now back on his anxiety train. Doc now won't have time for me at all. Who am I to him now? Will I only be a third wheel all the time?

Aaaand Imma leave it with that. But pleaaasee ramble with me about this :0

[deepdarkdelights]

Lady of The Night (Namjoon x Reader)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Victorian Era, Time Travel, Misogyny, Jack The Ripper Murders, Forced Relationships, Forced Stripping and Dressing, Blood (Lots of it), Gore, Fear, Panic/Anxiety, Discussions of dead bodies, Depictions of a corpse, Depictions of Wounds, Use of Drugs, Illicit Behaviors 

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

Preview:  You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

A/N: Yay! It’s my first fic up after my two week break! So, this is pertaining to the Jack The Ripper Murders. For storytelling purposes, the timeline of events has been altered as well as details of the crimes. This story may not be for everyone so please read the warnings and take them into consideration before reading. Your mental health and wellbeing should always be your number one priority. That being said, I hope you enjoy! 💜💜💜

You could see your blurry reflection in the glass of the watch face you held in your hands. 

You wiped away your tears with the heel of your palm violently as you sniffled tiredly. It had been a long day. 

You were coming to terms with the fact that you were the last living member of your family, everyone else had died and moved on. Your mother had been young when she had you, but she was also young when she left you. Mere moments after you had been given life and were brought into the world, she had departed shortly after. 

All you had ever known was the warm, comforting embrace of your grandfather. He had been more like your father your entire life and now he had left too. And all you had to remember him by was his old, Victorian house, some grainy photographs, and his pocket watch. 

Today had been the day you learned of his last will and testament, and he had left you everything he had ever owned, especially that pocket watch. He had carried it everywhere with him for as long as you could remember, the long, silver chain neatly clipped to his vest at all times. He would often remove the watch from his pocket, swiping his thumb over the sealed lid fondly before flicking it open and tracking the time. He had never once been late to anything, something he bragged about often. 

If you closed your eyes, you could visualize a scene that was not unfamiliar to you. You would be seated on the floor in a pile of pillows by the fireplace, the flames crackling and emanating a comforting warmth. The scent of black cherry tobacco wafting under your nose as your grandfather settled a thick book on his knees, pausing his reading aloud to puff at his tobacco pipe. You would giggle happily, wrapping your quilt tighter around your body as you watched him attempt to blow smoke rings. He would then slip his hand into his pocket and remove the watch, the chain clinking about as he flipped the watch open. 

“It’s almost half past nine, don’t you have school tomorrow?” He would ask you, raising one eyebrow in questioning. 

You, at ten years old, were familiar with what this meant, and you absolutely refused to head up those creaky stairs to bed when the two of you were in the middle of embarking on an adventure. 

“Please, just one more chapter!” You would beg, eyes wide and watery with a pout settled on your lips. 

“Alright,” He would concede after a long pause of faux thinking, “We do have time, don’t we?”

But that's where your grandfather was wrong. You didn’t have nearly enough time. You were twenty two when time came and took a hold of your grandfather and left you in the dust. That was the thing about time, it moved quickly and was unforgiving. Twenty two years was not enough, you were far too young when you said your last goodbyes. 

Fuck, and now you were crying again. 

You laughed humorlessly to yourself, pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your hand and wiping your tears away again. Crying would do you no good, he would want you to be happy. Death did not mean the end of a life, it meant the celebration of one, was something he had once told you. 

It was time to start celebrating then. 

You uncorked a bottle of wine, throwing the cork into the sink and having a staring match with a wine glass before you sighed and grabbed the bottle by its neck and left the room. You lit the fireplace before sitting down in your grandfather’s chair, throwing a leg up on his ottoman and taking a swig from the bottle. That made you feel a little better. 

You tilted your head back before turning your face into the fabric, the scent of black cherry tobacco still clung to the chair. Your eyes burned again with unshed tears as you nestled your head closer to it, breathing the scent in deeply before taking a longer swig of wine from the bottle. You were sure you looked pathetic. 

You groaned in irritation, the last thing you had wanted to do was throw yourself a pity party yet here you were, drowning your problems in wine like a young mom who is questioning why she didn’t use protection. 

You sat up, grabbing the neck of the bottle and setting it on the side table before standing up on weak knees. It was too weird being in that room without him. You weren’t ready to move on so quickly. So, you killed the fire and shuffled up the creaky stairs and headed to your bedroom down the hall. 

Once the door clicked shut behind you, you flung your clothes off into the corner of the room and grabbed an old, large, band shirt you tended to use as pajamas. After you slipped the raggedy fabric over your head you slid beneath your sheets, fisting the comforter in your hand and pulling it up to your nose. 

You could see the silver of the watch glinting under the moonlight on your night stand. Without much thought you reached across your bed and grabbed it, pulling it under the blanket with you. You  twirled the delicate chain around your fingers as you pressed the latched watch to your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as sleep tugged at your mind. But, despite that, your head was still filled with the memories of him that you tried to shake away.

You missed him, and you wanted to go back and see him again. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up the next morning, it was to the smell of warm food wafting throughout the house. In your delirium you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, you were sure it was just your grandfather whipping something up. 

And then you were jolting awake. There were two things you knew: one, your grandfather was a terrible cook who considered spam as breakfast, and two: he was dead. 

You shot up in bed, your sheets pooling around your waist as you cocked your head towards the door, listening in silence. You could faintly hear the sound of pots and pans clinking and the clacking of heels along the wood floor of the hallway. 

Someone was in the house. 

You snatched your phone from your bedside table and slipped free from the warmth of your bed. The pocket watch swung into your thigh, the chain still wrapped around your fingers from the night before. You kept your phone on the ready, prepared to dial the emergency line in seconds. 

When you opened the door you stuck your head out into the hallway, swinging it from right to left. You couldn’t see anybody, but the scent of food had gotten stronger. 

You allowed your door to swing shut behind you, the knob clicking with an air of finality. The floorboards were cold beneath your bare feet as you made your way down the stairs, dodging each squeaky board from years of practice. You knew this house like the back of your hand. 

Once you had descended the stairs you found yourself in the first floor hallway, the kitchen door to your right. Your eyes fluttered shut and you took in a deep breath before tensing your body with determination and flinging the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. 

A cry of shock echoed through the kitchen, the clash of pot and pans forcing a scream from your throat in response. Standing in front of you was what appeared to be a maid, her wispy brown hair tied into a bun at the base of her neck beneath a hat matching the long black dress and crisp white apron she donned. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of the nineteenth century. 

The two of you stared at each other in shock for a moment after your scream had died down and fizzled out. Her hand laid limply on her chest over her heart as her shoulders heaved with surprised breaths. 

Her gaze flickered up and down your form, her cheeks quickly reddening at your state of undress. 

“I cannot believe this!” She suddenly cried, throwing down the spatula she held in her other hand. “I’ve told the young master numerous times to stop consorting with heathens like yourself!”

“Heathen?” You echoed in confusion. “Hold on, what the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

“In your home? The audacity! You lay with the young master once and you believe yourself to be the lady of the estate? I will not have a harlot like you traipsing around!” She yelled back. 

“Lady, what the fuck are you on? You’re the one who broke into my house! Get out!” You screamed. 

“Emmett, Emmett come quickly! The young master let in another stray!” She called.

In a matter of seconds a man entered the room dressed in a three piece suit and gloves, he looked much like a butler. 

“Again? This is the third one this month, Mary.” He sighed in disgust, eyeing your form. “The indecency of this one, running around naked.”

You were speechless, all you could do was dumbly look down at your bare legs. The shirt you wore was fairly big, it covered everything important. Still, you grabbed at the hem and harshly pulled it down further, your mouth agape at his words. 

“Come now...miss. It’ll do you little good to linger here, we wouldn’t want to get the authorities mixed up in this, they aren’t fond of your kind as you know I’m sure.” 

You couldn’t think of anything to say until he approached you, gripping your arm roughly and tugging you out of the kitchen. 

“Get your fucking hands of off me, fucker!” You yelled, struggling to free yourself from his grasp. 

He tutted to himself as he ripped the front door open, “Such colorful language and such poor manners. Well, I suppose that is to be expected from women of your status.”

“Stop!” You cried, digging your heels into the floor. “You can’t throw me out of my own house! If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops, I swear!”

The butler merely shook his head, tired and annoyed with your antics. “Have a pleasant day, and for your own sake, find yourself a husband and stay off of the streets.”

And with that, he threw you out onto the front porch and slammed the heavy, mahogany door shut, the lock clicking into place. You spent the following moments banging your fists against the door and demanding to be let back in, once you realized how futile that was you unlocked your phone and dialed the emergency line. 

But you weren’t met with anything, no ringing, no voicemail, nothing. Your face scrunched up in confusion, your phone didn’t have a signal...how was that even possible?

And that was when you realized, for certain, that something was very wrong. When you finally looked up from your phone, you were surrounded by trees. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise, knocking into the front door behind you. All of the houses that once lined your street were gone. For miles around you all you could see was a dense forest and dirt and gravel roads. Your sweet, elderly neighbors house was gone, the ice cream shop that you could once see from your house was gone, the sidewalks and the fire hydrants were missing. It was as if they had never been there in the first place. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself, your stomach turning and your heartbeat thundering violently in your chest.

Everything was gone, how was that possible? Where did everyone go? Where did all of the buildings go? There was no way that they could all have been decimated and replaced with trees that towered higher than your house in one night. What in the absolute fuck was happening?

You crouched down to your knees, weaving your fingers through your messy hair as panicked sobs wracked your body. You had no explanation for what was happening, you had no idea what the hell was going on. Your phone wasn’t working, you were kicked out of your own home, and everyone was missing. 

You sat there for a moment, crying to yourself in a complete and utter panic before you realized that you needed to at least try and find someone who could help you. You allowed yourself a few more moments to squeeze out some more tears, heave your last sobs, and dry your wet face. You had done a lot of crying the past few days, enough tears to last you a lifetime. It was time to get to work now and figure out what was going on. 

So, you stepped foot onto the manicured lawn before you and made your way to the dilapidated road ahead of you. The dirt and gravel dug into the bare skin of your feet causing you to wince and jump in pain. It was better and easier to walk alongside the road rather than on it. 

The more you walked, and the further you walked, it became apparent that it was not only your street that had suffered changes overnight, but your entire town. What had once been a shopping district you frequented often in your teens was now a sea of never-ending trees. You hadn’t seen this much greenery since you went hiking years ago. 

The home that you remembered was much different from the sights you were seeing now. Your house had been the only Victorian on the street, the others newer builds that had popped up over the decades. It looked like any other street you had ever seen, an amalgamation of history in a couple blocks. But now, it appeared to be a clean slate, devoid of noise, devoid of life, and devoid of structure. 

In an eerie way, you felt like you were at the beginning of time, back before humanity had cultivated the earth and turned vibrant greenery into concrete jungles. It was as beautiful and it was lonely, if you hadn’t had that run in with the maid and the butler earlier, you could have assumed you were the only person on earth. How startling and stifling that would have been, to be just a house plopped in the middle of nowhere, with not a person in sight. 

It was not unlike how you felt now, alone walking alongside an empty road surrounded by trees. You could feel the miles passing as dirt clung to the soles of your feet, the skin burning in protest as you continued walking aimlessly in search of any signs of another person or house in the area. 

The thick layer of dark clouds hanging in the sky was not doing anything for your mood. You were certain you would be doomed to spend the day or possibly even the night in the trees trying to take cover from the onslaught of rain that was sure to come. 

And, just as you had predicted, all it took was one roll of thunder through the sky before the clouds let loose a torrent of rain. Your only saving grace was that the rainfall was not ice cold, but lukewarm. Your other concern was that where there was thunder, there would be lightning. At least you weren’t the tallest thing in the area though, a tree was more likely to be struck than you were. But that would be the cherry on top of your shitty day wouldn’t it, to be struck by lighting as well? 

But, just as your hopes were about as low and hell, you spotted something in the distance. The structure was familiar, you were certain you had seen those peaked roofs and stone walls many times before. Yesterday you had been driving on the highway when you passed the country club, and now you were certain that’s where you were. Where you stood now and once been home to a highway, and mere miles away was the country club you had passed everyday on your way to work. 

If you were lucky, the staff would take pity on you and maybe you could shower and get some food in you before you called the authorities to deal with those intruders of yours. 

By the time you finally made it up to the country club, you were completely soaked to the bone. The only pieces of clothing you had on, being your underwear and your oversized t-shirt, were drenched with water. You looked like a drowned rat if you were being honest with yourself. 

But, even in your panicked and miserable state, you took notice of a few things. The signs that once held directions and the name of the club were gone, nothing there that even hinted at their prior existence. The parking lot was long gone as well, not to mention the caged in tennis courts and the golf grounds. It was all missing. The only thing that stood as familiar to you was the large, Victorian manor itself, and the grand water fountain in the center of the roundabout. This roundabout was made of gravel though, instead of the cement you remembered it being. And, to your disdain, the tiny pieces of gravel had returned to puncture the delicate skin of our feet once more. 

You were tired, you were cranky, and you were wet. All you wanted to do at this point was run inside and collapse on the polished floor.  

You sped over the gravel as fast as you could before running up the stone steps, sliding under the cover of the roof that was fixed over the front door. You raised your hand up and curled your numb fingers around the door knocker. And, with difficulty, you swung the door knocker against the rich wood of the front door frantically. If there was a doorbell you would have been annoyingly ringing it nonstop, so you had to settle for banging the door knocker violently instead. 

While you were mid swing the door was ripped open violently, your soaked form almost being tugged inside as you were still attached to the knocker. A man stood in front of you, he too was dressed in a three piece suit, gloves adorning his hands and polished oxfords sitting under the hem of his pant legs. His suit was much finer than the butler’s from before, but the expression on his face was just as, if not even more, stern than the butler that came before him. 

“Please,” You huffed out, using your best pleading gaze. “I need help.”

“I think you are mistaken, miss. I do not believe you have any business with the master of this estate.” He responded coolly, a harsh edge to his tone. 

“Wait please!” You cried as he backed away and attempted to shut the door. You gripped the door frame, wedging your arm in place to keep it from closing. “I just need to use your phone.”

“I’m sorry miss, but -”

“Claude? Who’s at the door?” Another voice echoed from inside. 

“Please, can I come in for just a second?!” You called inside as you heard the click of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Master, I think it would be best if you let me take care of this.” 

“It’s alright, Claude, step aside.” The voice responded. The butler, Claude, edged away from the door in uncertainty before disappearing inside the depths of the club. 

Seconds later, a new man replaced him, opening the door much wider than the butler had. Your heart dropped into your stomach in astonishment and embarrassment. He was probably the most attractive man you had ever had the privilege of seeing and for a moment you were convinced you had fallen into an alternate universe because all of the men you had seen on a daily basis were nothing in comparison to him. 

He was rather tall with tan skin, dark hair, and a set of dangerous dimples. It took everything in you to restrain yourself from delicately poking one of those smooth craters in his cheeks that was calling out to you. 

With a sudden jolt you realized he had been staring at you just as intently as you had been staring at him. His lips had parted and his eyes had darkened. You could feel his gaze traveling over the dips of your collarbones and the exposed flesh of your legs and arms before settling on the thin fabric that stretched over your chest. 

Heat instantly flooded beneath the skin of your face, your arms crossing over your chest. In your moment of hysteria you had forgotten your lack of bra and the rain. You were sure this man had seen more than you had wanted to show him. 

His tongue swiped over his lower lip at your action, his dark, half lidded eyes flicking up to meet your own in a rather sensual stare. 

“Are you a lady of the night?” He asked, his voice deeper than before. 

Ah, that was a term that you had become rather accustomed to today. Well it’s synonyms at least: heathen, harlot, and now lady of the night. 

“No!” You cried in frustration, you had no issues with sex workers, what you did have an issue with was that because of your state of dress everyone had come to assume you were looking for some!

“Please, I just need help.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping from the stress you had endured all day. 

The look in his eyes had all but disappeared after your omission of the truth. You were not a lady of the night, you were just scared, confused, and in need of help. 

“Come inside.” He said, opening the door wider. 

You looked up at him in surprise, shocked to see a gentle smile gracing his lips. Before he could regret offering you shelter, you hastily entered the front room, your arms still wrapped securely around you as you felt the warmth of the building rush through you. 

Yet again, though, you noticed things were different. The front desk was gone, the signs pointing to the bathrooms and the changing rooms were missing, and there weren’t any people other than yourself and the man that stood before you.

“Where is everyone?” You asked him, turning to face the man as he closed the door behind the two of you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked you, equally as confused as you were. 

“This is a country club...where are all of the guests?” 

“Country club?” He laughed, his dimples becoming more prominent as his eyes filled with mirth. “This is my home, there isn’t a country club for miles.”

“What?” You whispered to yourself, the water from your shirt sliding off of you and tapping against the wood of the floor rhythmically. 

“They’re still fairly new after all, not many around here I’m afraid. You must be lost then?” He mused. 

“What do you mean they’re new? They’ve been around for years, this is one. I’ve been here numerous times!” You explained, exasperated. 

“Are you feeling well, miss?” He asked, stepping closer to you without letting his gaze wander as it had before. 

No, you weren’t feeling well at all, you were incredibly fucking confused. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, none at all. Country clubs weren’t new, they had been around for over a century now. 

And that was when it all began to make sense. All of the pieces suddenly had fallen into place. All the houses on your street were gone, the shopping center, the highway, the signs and the parking lot were missing from the country club. Your phone was unable to get a signal in the hours that had passed. You had encountered four strangers that spoke in a manner you had not heard often and dressed like they were from a different era. 

“What - what year is it?” You asked, your body trembling now from anxiety and from your wet shirt. 

“1891, of course.” He responded, his face appearing even more confused than it had before. He was looking at you in concern as well, he wasn’t sure why you would be asking him such an obvious and ridiculous question. 

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say as you began to stumble backwards, your legs going weak underneath you as you slumped to the ground. Your vision was focusing and un-focusing, your head feeling light as you could faintly hear his panicked voice in front of you. It was beginning to sound further and further away though as your bare thighs met the cold, wood floor beneath you. 

You were having a stressful day.

~~~~~~~

When you woke it was to a cold compress against your forehead and the feeling of a plush mattress beneath you. For a moment you thought that you were at home again, that the past few hours had all been some fever dream and your grandfather was taking care of you in your state. 

But the feeling of the thin, silver chain still wrapped around your fingers assured you otherwise. That had not been a dream in the slightest. 

You jerked forward, the cold cloth flying onto your lap as your hands scrambled across the top of the duvet reflexively searching for your phone. 

“It’s alright, relax, you’ll only worsen your condition!” A voice seethed as hands settled on your shoulders and coaxed you back against the pillows behind you. 

It was him again, the man with the dimples. 

“You have a fever, it won’t do you any good to move around too much.” He lectured you, his hand waving around as he scolded you. 

You quickly caught sight of something wrapped up in his ringed fingers, it was your phone. 

“Give that back!” You yelled, snatching your phone back from his hands and holding it tight against your chest. You were glad that your phone was password protected, not that he would ever know what to do with it even if he managed to unlock it by accident. 

“What is it exactly?” He asked you as he relented, taking a seat in a chair that had been moved to your bedside. 

“It’s none of your business, that’s what it is.” You replied, shooting him a look that he reciprocated with shock and astoundment. He probably had never been spoken to like that before, a man with what you could only assume held power, status, and wealth. There was a part of you while still shocked at your predicament enjoyed the idea of fucking with some rich people. 

“As a guest in my home I think I have every right to know.” He shot back with a quirk of his brow, jerking his chin up. 

The audacity. So, as petty as it was, you refused to dignify his statement with a response. 

“Fine, if you won’t tell me then I’ll have to assume you don’t know what it is either and you stole it just like you did that watch. It’s to be expected of someone of your...nature.” He insinuated, his gaze flicking over your form from head to toe.

“My nature?” You replied, your skin going hot with untapped irritation. 

“Well, a prostitute of course.” He answered with such certainty it made you want to scream. 

“For fuck’s sake how many times do I have to say I’m not!” You yelled, throwing your head back against the pillows. 

“Well of course you are, with that way you looked coming up here you were practically naked, how could you not be a pros-”

“First of all,” you interrupted, “The proper term is sex worker and you have no right judging women who have no other choice and even if they did choose it you still have no right to demean them for taking up a profession that employs a service and receives payment for it like any other job!” 

“Secondly, the manner in which I am dressed does not mean you get to make baseless assumptions about me or my job without knowing why I look this way in the first place.”

He sat there for a moment, stunned. A long pause of silence passed between the two of you before a smile split across his face, those dimples returning in full force. 

“I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Did I ask?” You retorted, annoyed, and overall confused from his sudden change in demeanor. A voice echoed in the back of your mind that maybe he had a thing for women putting him in his place but you quickly shoved that down in embarrassment. 

“Well it’s only proper, you’re already in my bed anyways I figured you should know my name.” He replied with a boyish smirk.

You choked in confusion and shock before softly muttering your name in response. You did owe him that much, he had taken you in and taken care of you. That was the only thing you would give him though, his prior attitude still stung. 

“I’d like to inform you that despite your progressive thoughts not everyone will see eye to eye with you, miss. You’re lucky you found your way here, there’s a murderer stalking these streets.”

“A murderer?” You echoed, your blood chilling in your veins. 

“You don’t know of Jack the Ripper? That’s what the public titled him at least.” He explained. 

Holy shit, the timing was perfect. Namjoon had told you the year was 1891, whatever had caused your slip through time sent you right back into the tailend of the Jack the Ripper murders. You had been lucky that he hadn’t stumbled across you, because despite your beliefs that your attire didn’t mean anything, everyone you had met had mistaken you for a sex worker. It would be expected that the infamous ripper himself would have thought the same and your name would have joined the list of victims. 

That was too close of a call for you. 

“Has he killed recently?” You asked out of morbid curiosity, you were hoping, selfishly, that you had arrived after his last victim. 

“He’s been rather active, I should know, I’m the one investigating him.” He said, a look of irritation falling over his features as he crossed his leg over the other, his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

“You’re an officer, then?” You asked. 

He responded with an annoyed snort, rolling his eyes. “Thankfully no, I’m more of a private investigator. I’ve been employed by some officials high in the government to do the work the police have been ruining as of late. How embarrassing, three years and they still haven’t managed to pin the murderer.”

Ah, so you had struck a nerve. He didn’t like the police, noted. 

“Tell me more.” You probed, your genuine curiosity winning over your unease. 

Namjoon appeared to gather himself, his gaze that had once been far off returning to you. “Detail such grizzly deaths to a lady? I’m afraid not.”

“Where I come from we don’t take sexism lightly, Namjoon. And, not to mention, I’m a journalist. Trust me, I can handle it.” What you said was true, as a journalist you were receiving a once in a lifetime opportunity, you were given the chance to witness the investigation of the world’s most well known cold case.  

“You’re a strange woman, unlike any other I’ve ever met before.” He said softly, an amused light in his eyes.

“You’d be surprised just how much we are capable of.” You shot back. 

“Fair enough,” He smiled, enthralled with the back and forth the two of you had engaged in. “I’ll tell you more in my study, I’ll send for a maid to help you dress.” He said before standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. 

“I’m interested to hear your thoughts.” He called over his shoulder before the door clicked shut. 

As soon as he left, you felt like you could breathe freely, a deep exhale of air passing between your lips.

So, you had slipped through time. Your thumb rested between your lips as you nervously chewed at your nail. You were coming to terms with the fact that somehow, some way, you had retreated into the year 1891. The next issue that you needed to resolve was how you were going to get back to your own timeline. You didn't belong here, that was for sure. Just from your previous conversation with Namjoon you knew that you were drastically different from anyone of this era. At this point, you were sure that was bound to get you in some sort of trouble. It was probably best to lay low around people other than Namjoon who had already been exposed to your modern ideals.

As you sat, stewing in your thoughts, a series of gentle knocks echoed from the door to the bedroom. You peeled the sheets away from your body and stilled for a moment. Somebody had changed your clothes. Where you had once worn your faded tour shirt you were now dressed in a long, flowing, silk nightgown that just brushed the tops of your toes. It was rather pretty and ridiculously comfortable but that didn't lessen your anxiety from having a new state of dress from what you had passed out in.

Another set of knocks, less gentle ones this time, spurred you to move faster. As soon as your bare feet met the plush carpet beneath you, you rushed to the door. Upon opening it, a maid stood there. She held a few items in her arms, her face obscured by the dense pile of fabric she cradled. Without saying a word you moved aside and held the door open for her. You could faintly hear her mumble out a weak thank you, muffled by what she held.

She shuffled over to the bed and dropped everything on top of the mattress with a heave that swung her small body with it.

"Alright, Miss. Are you ready?" She asked, turning to face you with a pleasant smile.

"Ready for what exactly?" You replied.

"Well, to dress you of course."

Your face flushed in embarrassment, that was something you had conveniently forgotten, people of higher status like your host did not dress themselves in this period.

"Oh, that's alright, I can manage on my own."

"Are you certain?" She asked, an apprehensive look crossing her features as she stopped laying out the clothing items, her hands halting over a corset.

Fuck.

"On second thought I would love the help." Yeah, there was no fucking way you were learning to lace that thing on your own.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a struggle it would have been to dress yourself had you not appreciated the help the maid had given you. In Victorian fashion, layers were undeniable and you couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of how hot these women had to get in the warmer months. 

You had also assumed the corset would have been troublesome, given how you always heard about its bad rep via movies and literature. In reality, it was quite comfortable. It wasn’t overbearingly tight and you could breathe perfectly fine without a single hint of dizziness. You couldn’t help but ask the maid about this in astonishment. 

She giggled as she smoothed your dress, “Tightlacing you mean? Why, is there someone you’re trying to impress?”

Your face burned with heat at her insinuation, “No, no, I was just curious.”

“It is quite fashionable, but not very practical, no?” She said with a hint of a smile as she stepped back from you. “Well, if that’s all you’ll be needing of me the master is waiting for you in his study, would you like me to escort you? It’s not very far.”

“Oh no, I’m sure I’ve distracted you enough, if you could just point the way that’d be very much appreciated.” 

“Of course!” She chirped, guiding you into the hallway of the manor. “Just head straight down that way, it’s the door at the very end of the hall!”

“Thank you for all of your help.” You smiled gratefully before your turn and began your walk through the hallway. 

The manor was gorgeous with pane glass windows that stretched from the length of the floor to just below the ceiling that were framed with thick, velvet curtains. The floor beneath your shoes was parquet and a deep mahogany that shone proudly in the daylight that filtered into the hallway. You had not seen all of the manor but you knew, just from this glimpse, that the rest of it radiated wealth and power just like its master. 

The clicking of your shoes against the polished hardwood echoed down the length of the corridor as you approached the doors to the study. You had never been to this floor of the manor in your timeline, it had been long since roped off and only elite members were allowed access. Now, it appeared you could roam freely to your heart's content. 

Your knuckles brushed against the door, three knocks in quick succession sounding out into the quiet hallways and study. 

“Come in.” Namjoon called, his voice steady yet distracted. 

You pulled the heavy doors open and slipped into the study. Upon entering you noticed a number of things, for one the study resembled that of a library. The space was vast with bookshelves towering over you as well as everything else in the room. 

Namjoon was seated behind a desk, his fingers resting at his temples while he flipped through a set of papers placed on the surface of the table. While the rest of the manor had appeared clean, almost sterile really, this space had gone untouched by the staff. Various books laid open or bookmarked on the floors, couches, and his desk. 

Upon further inspection you noticed textbooks and medical journals strewn about, anatomy pages glaring back at you. 

“Are you a doctor, Namjoon?” You asked, lifting one of the textbooks up to get a closer look at what he had been reading. 

“A doctor?” He laughed, “I consider myself to be more of a scholar, really-”

Whatever else he had meant to say ceased, the words failing to part his lips. He was looking at you again, not unlike the way he had looked at you when you had appeared on his doorstep scantily clad and drowning in a torrent of rain. 

He made you uncomfortable. 

“Look at you, looking like a lady. You could have fooled me if I did not know any better.” He said, the corner of his lips tugging up into a sarcastic grin. 

“Such a gentleman.” You huffed with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “If you’re not a doctor then what is the point in reading things like this?”

“To catch a killer, you must think like a killer.” He hummed, tapping the tip of his forefinger against the side of his head. 

“You’ll never catch him.” You said, the words escaping you before you could even think about the repercussions they would have. 

“And why would you think that?” He asked, his eyes narrowing with a challenging look to them, the irises were dark and sent a cold chill down the length of your spine. 

“Call it intuition.” You replied, thinking quickly on your feet. “If countless others who are far more qualified and knowledgeable have failed to find him, it’s improbable one individual will bring him down.” 

You had unknowingly just challenged his intellect, if this were a dance you would have quite literally just stepped on your partner's toes. 

Namjoon stood quickly, his chair shooting back as he rounded the desk and approached you. You stumbled backwards in surprise but did not manage to dodge him as he matched your pace. His hands had settled on your waist, spinning you around to pull you back into his chest. 

His voice was soft and mellow beside your ear as he spoke, “Each victim was a prostitute, all found in the east end of town. Already there is a location and a motive, no?” 

“Now, here is what I find interesting.” He hummed, swiftly gripping your chin and pushing your head back onto his shoulder. His fingers ever so lightly brushed down the column of your throat before drawing a line across it from left to right. 

“Immediately he slits their throat, and right after? Disembowelment.” He said, his other hand that was settled on your waist migrated to your lower abdomen, his fingers caressing another line over the clothed flesh. 

“Most people, those ‘investigators’ for example, would say he hates women. But on the contrary, I think he is quite fascinated. With every murder he takes something that is uniquely theirs, would you happen to know what that is?” 

“Their womb.” You managed to say. You were trembling and you were certain that he could feel it. He was scaring you, the reality of your situation was suddenly becoming rather apparent. 

That could have been you. 

“Exactly, and to do something like that you would need some medical background, especially considering the speed and technique with which he does it.” He confirmed, his hands resting on your waist once more, this time turning you to face him. 

“So, if I were a ripper who was fascinated by women, where would I be?”

“Well...everywhere?” You replied, stepping out of his hold.

“Yes and no. We have a pattern and a motive, someone who is targeting prostitutes in the East End. My money would be on a hub for illicit activities, and with my sources I have a clue as to where he will strike next.”

That piqued your interest. “And where would that be?”

“If I know anything, it’s that the rich don’t like to follow rules and love a good party. Every now and then viscounts, dukes, and aristocrats alike will gather and dabble in illicit activities together. These parties change location every now and again, but most commonly we see them in the East End. Chances are, we can find a doctor with devious intentions at the hub of them. So, do I seem qualified to you?”

“This was your way of proving your capability to me?” You huffed, shaking your head. 

“Yes, and it appeared to work.” He smiled, leaning back against his desk with his arms spread behind him on  its surface. 

“Well, luckily for you, I’m interested.” You responded, jutting your chin out as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Interested?” He echoed.

“If you want to catch a killer, what better way is there to do so than draw him out?”

“You’re offering yourself as bait? Are you neurotic?!” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side as he popped off of his desk. “Do you really think I would allow that in good conscience?” 

“I don’t need your permission to do anything, Namjoon. What I am offering is an agreement of mutual satisfaction. You get a way to bait the killer and I get the story of a lifetime.”

You had been plunged backwards through time for a reason, and maybe this was the reason. This was the world’s most infamous cold case. What were the chances that a journalist would slip through the cracks in time and stumble into the East End of 1891? The only conclusion you could draw was that you were meant to identify who the ripper was. 

You knew nothing about time travel regardless of the pop culture you had consumed. For all you knew, changing the events of the past would not create a ripple effect but instead a branch. And, as horrifying as this scenario was, your curiosity was going to get the better of you. You needed to know, even if it meant following around the egotistical self proclaimed genius that had sheltered you. 

“So, do we have a deal? You asked, extending your hand out to him. 

The silence that hung between the two of you was unsettling. His dark eyes lingered on your hand for a moment before flicking up to your face and back down. His lips were pursed in thought and you could tell he was debating with himself heavily. There was a soft ringing in your ears as the quiet stretched on. 

A sudden smile spread over his face, one that you thought almost appeared devious. He laughed to himself and then shook his head before breaching the space between you and gripping your much smaller hand in his own. He gave your hand a firm shake before tugging you forwards and pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand with a grin. 

“We have a deal.” He confirmed. 

“What a fucking flirt.” You grumbled to yourself beneath your breath, anxiously sliding your hand over the fabric of your skirt. “So, when will this party take place?”

“One week from now.” He said, raising his hand to hold up one finger. 

That was much longer than you had wanted to spend in the Victorian era. Far much longer. 

“And what will we do in the meantime?” 

“Well investigate, of course.”

~~~~~~~

Days had passed in Namjoon’s company, and for all of the investigating the three of you (Namjoon, Claude, and yourself) had done, no results were accomplished. But, on the other hand no murders had been committed in the East End. 

You were halfway through the week until the party, and despite your efforts there was absolutely nothing. You were becoming as frustrated as the inhabitants of the East End as well as your fellow investigators. Among all of your “resources,” you were caught at a dead end just as the police were. 

You had heard of Jack the Ripper in your youth, you were once an avid true crime fan. But, for the life of you, you could not remember who the next victim was and where their corpses would be found. And for all you knew, protecting that individual would only cause someone else to lose their life. Time was tricky and fickle, and if it was set in stone, it did not matter who would die so long as someone was drafted into the void. 

You assumed. 

Your host had been...strange, to put it simply. You had thought to yourself that that was just in his nature, he was easily distracted, unfocused, yet insanely intelligent. But his mannerisms were unusual. He seemed completely unfazed by the case he had been assigned to, the only moments in which he showed a visceral response were when he dealt with you, or the police force. He hated them intensely, you could only assume because of how ineptly they were handling the case itself. 

And, most frequently, you found yourself going head to head with him. And boy, did he enjoy the challenge. And, if you were bold enough to admit it, you would say he derived pleasure from the arguments the two of you would get into. He would constantly fix you with that confident smirk, the one that told you he believed he was always one step ahead of you. And fuck, did it piss you off. And he was very much aware of that. He loved a good challenge and you were far different from any of the women he knew of. 

He often wondered how far he could push you before you snapped. 

And if his cocky behavior wasn’t enough to piss you off, it was how much of a blatant flirt he was. There was nothing more frustrating than someone arguing with you while flirting with you at the same time. And your constant refusal and rebuttal to his advances only seemed to fuel the fire. 

The cover of night time became your one refuge, that was when you had an excuse to stay away from him. You could have the whole night to yourself and be free of him until the morning. 

Usually. 

Normally, you slept through the night. But for some reason your body woke you. It was either late at night or extremely early in the morning. No sunlight entered the room, it was still incredibly dark. 

At first, everything appeared to be perfectly normal. That was of course until you noticed a figure seated in the chair by your window mere feet away. You immediately jumped and began to scramble backwards out of the bed, the sheets twisting around your legs and slowing you down. 

It was the call of your name that made you freeze. 

Namjoon was sitting in your room at an ungodly hour...watching you. 

“Namjoon?” You hissed, pulling the sheets back up to your chin. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He answered, pressing his palms onto the armrests and pushing himself up to stand. 

“I really wish you would have.” You grunted, pulling the blanket around you even tighter. “Do you know how creepy you -”

“Two more women are dead.”

Silence. 

“What happened?” You whispered, your fingers going limp. 

“One woman was murdered late last night and the other an hour ago. It was a double event.” His tone was flat, completely absent of affect. 

The three of you could only hold him off for so long, and it looks like he lashed out as soon as he was given the chance. Two women within the span of a few hours were killed, and you couldn’t help but feel like that was your fault. 

No matter what you do, someone will die. 

“What do we do now?” You asked, sullenly looking to him from your point on the bed. 

“We have to go meet with the authorities.” He answered, distaste evident in his voice when he uttered the word ‘authorities.’ 

“Come, we don’t have much time.” He urged you, snapping the sheets back to the foot of the bed while pulling you up to your feet. 

You stumbled as he tugged you forward, your head spinning from the sudden motion. You were struggling to see, your eyes still heavy with sleep despite the dreadful news you had heard. The feeling of his hands at the back of your nightdress certainly shocked you awake. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You snapped, smacking his hands away from you. 

He appeared frustrated, his eyes dark and his face set in irritation at your refusal. “I just told you, we don’t have much time. All of the maids are still asleep, it’s far too early to call one of them for help and you certainly don’t know how to dress yourself.”

“I can manage on my own, I don’t need your ‘help’.” You argued, stepping away from him in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. “You don’t know the first thing about women’s clothes anyways.”

His jaw tensed, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before releasing an annoyed sigh. “Trust me I have undone a few corsets in my time, it’s not as difficult as you make it out to be.” 

“And just as I said, I can dress myself I am not a fucking child.” 

Before you could move his arm shot forward and his hand wrapped around your forearm tightly. Despite your struggling he yanked you towards him, his other hand gripping your elbow. 

“As stupid and insufferable as you like to think I am, I know you are not from here.” He said, his voice low and dangerously quiet. “You don’t speak, act, or even walk like you are from here. The more you hide from me the harder this is going to be. You need help, now you can either be a brat and I have to force you to do as I say, or you can play along and we can get this done and get to work. It’s up to you.”

He had just told you he knew you were a time traveler without explicitly saying it. At least that was the way you took it. But the way in which he spoke to you did not seem to insinuate that he meant that you were a foreigner. Many of your interactions with him would have led him to believe you were from a different time and, not to mention, you had done a terrible job of hiding your phone from him the first day you arrived. You had done a poor job of concealing that from someone as smart as him. 

“And what if I don’t want you to see me?” You tried one last time. 

“It wouldn’t be anything I haven’t already seen.”

So, he was the one who had changed you the first day you had arrived in 1891. There were many red flags waving in the back of your head, and like an idiotic bull you had failed to recognize a single one of them. Some journalist you were, you had missed all of the finite details. 

“Turn around.” He finally said, his voice firm. 

And, with no other choice, you did. It was incredibly awkward on your end. Despite the attractiveness of your host, you had no desire for him to strip and dress you. Unfortunately for you, he did not care. You understood the urgency to leave and your little spat had already delayed your departure. But you were a person who valued your dignity and autonomy, you weren’t built to live in a society such as this one. 

You tried your best not to focus on the feeling of his touch, but it was incredibly hard to ignore. Instead of touching you as little as possible, it felt like he took every chance to caress, graze, and linger on every inch of bared skin. 

For a moment, all movement stilled. You were only halfway dressed, your corset exposing everything upwards of your chest leaving your collarbones, arms, shoulders, and neck on display. You shuddered at the sudden feeling of fingers smoothing over the column of your throat, not unlike the incident in Namjoon’s study. 

He was absolutely quiet as he pressed his face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, softly breathing in and out as his fingers continued to stroke the skin of your throat from left to right in a gentle, slow, sawing motion. Your heart was pumping frantically in your chest in what could only be described as fear. Your back was ramrod straight, a harsh line in comparison to the relaxed form behind you. 

Why were you so afraid of him? It was like every nerve and muscle in your form was begging you to leap away and run for your life. But he wasn’t dangerous, right?

You jolted at the feeling of lips just brushing against your shoulder as he pulled away from you and finished helping you dress, far quicker than he had been before. His demeanor was suddenly resigned, professional, and cold. It was like he had suddenly mustered a sense of self control in mere seconds. 

Who exactly was Kim Namjoon?

Said man was retreating in the direction of your bedroom door, his hand grasping the doorknob as he called over his shoulder, “Meet me out front, and please be quick about it.”

That was when a thought suddenly intruded your mind. 

“Namjoon? How did you get into my room? The door was locked.”

He stiffened for a moment, his hand tightening around the doorknob causing the muscle to strain and his knuckles to whiten. He said nothing, his head jerked to the side for a moment like he was gesturing in disbelief. 

He raised his head and stared at you, and then without saying anything, he left. 

~~~~~~~

You stared at the face of your pocket watch, the delicate chain wrapped around your gloved fingers. The hands of the watch were still, the familiar ticking of the watch was silent. It was like time had completely stopped. And in a way, maybe it had. 

The carriage halted to a stop spurring you to snap the watch cover closed and pin it back into place. 

Your companion quickly exited and stood outside, reaching his hand out to you to help guide you from the compartment. Despite the sudden animosity between the two of you, you placed your hand in his own and allowed him to help you down. The layered skirts of your dress swirled around your ankles, they were heavy and made it hard to climb in and out of transportation. Begrudgingly, you managed to say your thanks between gritted teeth. 

“Try to behave.” He whispered beside your ear offering his arm to you. 

You hooked your arm into the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead the way. If you had it your way you would be fifteen feet in front of him carving your own path through the East End. But, your lack of knowledge of Victorian etiquette had already managed to get you in trouble and the last thing that you needed was more trouble. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, quickening your pace to match his long strides. 

“The previous crime scene has already been cleaned up by the task force, but the one from this morning is still intact. I have been instructed to go over their findings as well as conduct my own investigation.” He explained. 

“Alright, what can I do?” 

“What you can do is stay right here.” He instructed, bringing the two of you to a stop at the mouth of a narrow alleyway. It was already blocked off, warning the public to steer clear of the area. 

“You have to be kidding? You really expect me to wait here for you while you go and investigate? I don’t take kindly to being told to just sit and look pretty, Namjoon.” You glared. 

Namjoon titled his head back and let out a sound of annoyance, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically with an exasperated sigh. “For once, will you please listen to me? This is an active investigation and I am asking you, a civilian, to stay put. I swear, I will tell you everything you need to know for your story, alright?” 

Another bitter silence passed between the two of you. He knew you were incredibly dissatisfied with what he had said. But he was just as stubborn as you were, that being the reason the two of you butted heads so often. 

He shook his head, jaw tensed with anger as he stepped away from you heading in the direction of the alley way. 

“Stay put!” He called over his shoulder, waving his hand at you as he disappeared, his form melting into the darkness of the alley that had yet to see the glow of the early morning sunrise. 

Now that, that pissed you off. You were not some dog that would obey his every command, the more he told you not to do something the more it made you want to do it. 

You waited for a few moments, for his sake and for the very fact that it would piss him off that you refused to listen. You were an impatient woman, and you would be damned if you listened to a single thing he said. 

The air was crisp and cool with the lack of sunlight, your breath fogging the space in front of you as you slunk down the dark alleyway. You could hear Namjoon’s voice echoing down the brick tunnel, he sounded enraged. There were several other voices attempting to speak over him, but they were evidently failing. 

And then there was the smell, it was horrid. The cramped space was packed full of the scent, it was indescribable. The only prominent smell that was familiar was the tangy, coppery odor of blood thick in the morning air. 

But what you hadn’t been expecting was that the body was still there, slumped against the ground haphazardly like it was nothing more than trash. An officer was still there, knelt down next to her body. He was prodding her flesh with a grimace, holding a handkerchief over his nose to block out the scent. 

“Christ, she’s still warm!” He called out, jumping up to head back to the investigators while giving you a full view of the carnage laid out before you. “He could still be close by!”

Multiple sensations bombarded you at once. A scream was caught in your throat as your stomach began to churn from the sight before you. You raised a gloved hand to cover your nose and mouth as you leaned against the wall, your knees feeling weak. 

It was bad, worse than you could have possibly imagined. 

There was blood, more blood than you had ever seen in your entire life. And whatever it was that was laying before you just barely looked human. But the parts that did look familiar was what made it so unsettling, so wrong, so horrifying. 

Namjoon was calling your name. 

You were still in shock when he grabbed you, his hand cupping the back of your neck and forcing your face into his chest blocking the grotesque view you once had. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders, cradling you closer to him. 

“Her...her face.” You stuttered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“Are you that inept at your jobs that you couldn’t keep a civilian from entering a fucking crime scene?!” He yelled over your head, his voice vibrating deep in his chest. 

“I told you to stay put.” He mumbled, his lips pressed to the crown of your head while his thumb stroked the side of your face as you shook in his hold. This was the gentlest he had ever been with you. 

You had never seen anything like that before. Whatever words he had spoken were falling on deaf ears, a sharp ring was echoing throughout your head, numb tears streaking your face and ruining his jacket. 

You could feel his hands slide to the curve of your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him and only him. 

“From now on, you listen to me, okay?” He said, his eyes darting over your face to make sure you were retaining what he was saying. 

You weren’t sure what was more concerning to you. The fact that he was suddenly so gentle with you, or the fact that he paid no mind to the corpse mere feet away from the two of you. 

There was something wrong with Kim Namjoon. 

~~~~~~~

Whatever investigation Namjoon had managed to conduct during your moments of shellshock provided nothing new. The choice of murder was the same, albeit the brutality was by far the worst of all the victims before. 

Her body had been warm indicating the perpetrator could still have been close by, but despite that knowledge the search parties could not find the culprit that had been described. There was no man covered in blood hiding in the shadows of the East End, he had disappeared like he had never been there in the first place. 

A few days after the murder had taken place, Namjoon had informed you the killer had made contact. His face was grim as he described what had transpired. A letter and a parcel had arrived addressed to the taskforce, inside was what appeared to be a human kidney and a letter signed with a flourish, “Jack The Ripper.”

He was playing with them. 

Your dreams were plagued with the memories of the sights you had seen that day in the early morning light of the alleyway. And instead of forcing you into submission, it made you angry. The initial sight had rendered you imobile, weak, and defenseless. You had never seen a human look like that. But with each dream you dreamt as the week melted away, you festered in guilt and rage. 

Your fellow Victorian journalists had called him a monster, but you knew better. He was not a monster, he was a coward preying on women in the veil of darkness. Cowards harmed the weak and the defenseless, he was a caricature of a monster. 

And you wanted nothing more than to rip the Halloween mask off of that faux monster. 

This thought is what lent you strength as you and Namjoon reentered the East End, prepared to once and for all unmask the killer that had escaped the two of you. 

You were dressed expensively, and rather salaciously, to blend in with the aristocrats around you. Namjoon and Claude appeared comfortable in the environment and it made you wonder if this had not been their first time attending an illicit party. Namjoon had explained to you before that he was often hired by government officials to do the jobs the police often failed to do, so it would not be unexpected if he had been there more than once. 

You were bombarded by various sights that had you sticking close to your companions. When Namjoon said “illicit” parties, he meant it. The amount of illegal activities taking place was astounding. No matter where you looked, something was going on. Various partygoers were drinking unmarked liquids, inhaling unidentified substances, or swapping large amounts of money for some unknown service (although you had an inkling as to what they may be). 

At one point in the night you had tried to locate a bathroom only for Namjoon to pull you away from the door you had attempted to open. 

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.” He said with an all knowing, tight lipped grin. 

“Really, and why not?” You asked, your hand resting on your cinched waist. 

“I didn’t picture you as one for...group activities.” 

“Group activities...there’s an orgy in there?!” You whisper yelled, frantically wiping your hand on your skirts with wide eyes. 

Namjoon wheezed out a laugh, guiding you away from the room and back towards the center of the pseudo ballroom. “What can I say, this is a sinner’s paradise.” 

“Sinner’s paradise, more like Chlamydia’s Palace.” You huffed, your cheeks hot. 

Namjoon laughed again only to be stopped by the presence of his butler, Claude. His hand concealed his mouth as he whispered something to Namjoon. Whatever it was he said seemed to please Namjoon while also provoking an indescribable look to wash over his handsome features.

As soon as Claude stepped back, Namjoon spoke. “I need you to stay right here, okay? Don’t talk to anyone, don’t drink anything, just keep to yourself until I return.” 

Your eyebrows pinched together in irritation and confusion, “But, Namjoon -”

“Remember what happened the last time you refused to listen to me?” He snapped, raising his eyebrows in emphasis. 

You pressed your lips together, turning your head to the side. Yes, you did remember what had happened the last time you ignored his instructions. 

Namjoon sighed, propping his finger under your chin and turning your head to look at him. “Please, trust me on this one thing.”

You thought to yourself for a moment, the last time you didn’t listen it hadn’t exactly gone well for you. This was just one thing he was asking of you after all of the things he had done for you, he was asking for just one moment of cooperation. 

You lowered his hand from your chin and took a breath. “Okay, I trust you.” 

A look of pure elation erupted on his face. He gave you a wide grin, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. 

“I’ll be back.” He said before retreating into the crowd with Claude following close behind. 

And then you were alone, but not alone for nearly long enough. 

Your hands fiddled with the pocket watch your grandfather had gifted you as you walked, your head down and your gaze focused on the glass face of the watch. It was almost like everything had gone wrong after he had died and left it in your possession. 

Far too distracted from your internal thoughts and the presence of the watch, you missed the incoming form barreling towards you. Within seconds you were knocked to the floor, the layers of your skirts luckily breaking your fall. 

“Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry, my bad! In a rush, I’m quite late I’m afraid.” The voice rushed out, a slight wheeze accompanying it as he appeared breathless. 

You felt two hands grasp your own and carefully help you into an upright position. 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” You said, irritation clear in your tone. 

“No really! Forgive me, it’s my mistake.” He said.

You adjusted your dress, making sure all of the important bits were in place before finally looking up to see who exactly this man was. 

You were not expecting it to be him. Not at all. 

“Grandpa?” You asked softly, taken aback. 

It was him, he looked years younger than when you had last seen him, but it was him. You had gone through countless scrapbooks as a child and the face that was staring back at you was the younger version of the man that had raised you. 

“What?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shook. 

Your gaze zeroed in on the chain of the watch clipped to his pocket. And, without saying a word, you pulled your own watch free and showed it to him. 

All mirth completely left his body, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. His lips parted in shock and distress as his eyes traced over his own initials carved into your watch. His hand patted his own chest frantically as he pulled the watch free and held it beside your own. 

They were identical, down to every nick and scratch in the silver finish. 

“How did you get here?” He asked, his voice low and serious in a way you had never heard before. “Did they send you?” 

“Did who send me? Nobody sent me. I just woke up here, other people were living in my house and everything was gone.” You explained as he pulled you to a corner of the ballroom. 

“This isn’t right,” He mumbled, flipping open his own watch. “You’re a time anomaly, there can’t be two of us here at the same time.”

“Two of us?” You echoed. 

“Time travelers, dear, it runs in the family I’m afraid. What was I thinking about giving that to you without explaining?” He said, his words flying so quickly to the point that you were struggling to keep up. 

“Then let’s leave, show me how to get out of here! There has to be a way!”

“You can’t just leave, you’re here for a purpose, you didn’t just come here by accident.” He said as a blue glow began to steadily thrum and pulse from his watch. “Oh no.”

“Oh no? What, what’s happening?”

“I have to go, I’m being called back. Whatever you do, you cannot change anything, do you understand? Who are you staying with, what have you done?” 

“I haven’t changed anything that I know of. I’ve been staying with Kim Namjoon.”

His eyes widened as the watch began to pulse even stronger than before. “Kim Namjoon! Listen to me, you need to go, you need to get as far away as possible he -”

But before he could finish what he was saying he disappeared. It was like he had blipped out of existence, like he had never been there at all. 

You spun around in a circle, trying to see if he was truly gone. All of the party goers did not appear to be phased, it was like they hadn’t seen a single thing that occurred. How was that possible? Fuck that, how was any of this possible?

All you knew was that you were going to follow his advice and get the fuck out of there and out of the East End. 

You forced yourself through the thick crowds of people, pushing, checking, and elbowing away anyone that got in your way. You winced as one particular shove sent a whole glass of wine pouring down the cleavage and dress of one inebriated woman. It didn’t really matter though, you were sure she could afford another one with the way she had been slamming back drinks all night. 

You threw open various doors in an attempt to find a way out, each time you were met with an increasingly more disgusting or disturbing sight. You didn’t even know some of those positions were possible for fuck’s sake. 

Finally, when you threw open a door you were met with the smell of crisp, fresh air. A way out. 

It was a slim alleyway of the East End, just barely illuminated by the crescent moon that hung in the pitch black darkness of the sky. A sudden sense of paranoia washed over you, the last time you were in an alleyway it had ended poorly. But you knew you didn’t have time to think about that. 

Oh, if only you did. 

The minute your heeled feet met the ground you were greeted with that all too familiar scent. There was blood nearby and lots of it. You could hear shuffling a few yards away, and you knew that you fucked up. 

Your throat felt tight as you attempted to swallow, you were certain you could taste the blood on your tongue from how strong the smell was. And, when you finally turned to face whatever was in that alley, you were horrified. 

A few yards away you spotted three figures, two on the ground and one leaning against the wall. And beneath the three of them, a crimson river steadily flowed through the cobblestone. 

You took a step back, your heels scuffing the stone spurring only two of the figures to look up at you. A scream bubbled in your chest at what you saw. Claude was hunched over the figure of a woman, blood splattered over his face and down the leather apron he wore over his clothes. You could see bloodied tools in his grip as he settled back on his hunches, pausing his motions mid incision.

And then there was Namjoon, the once blank look he wore on his face suddenly lighting up with intrigue at the sight of you. 

“Claude? Why don’t you take the lady home.” He spoke, gesturing to the corpse. 

Claude looked between you and Namjoon for a moment, appearing conflicted. But he did not hesitate any longer as he scooped up the woman’s corpse and retreated down in the dark depths of the alley. 

Namjoon was quick as he approached you, you barely made it a few feet away before he grabbed you by your forearms and pinned you up against the wall, hushing you as panicked cries parted your painted lips. 

“I’m sorry, darling. But, I did tell you to stay put didn’t I?”

“Why?” You managed to say as you trembled in his hold, ugly sobs wracking your entire form. 

“Women only want me for one thing I’m afraid. My money. I thought that maybe I could help those women who had nothing, that they could give me love in return if they didn’t know who I was. But they were just the same, motivated by money. I would give them my love and beg them to stop selling themselves but they just wouldn’t listen to me. Every single one of them failed my little test. They were greedy, and selfish. They didn’t deserve to be women. So, I hurt them just like they hurt me.” 

You didn’t know what to do or what to say, you could only focus on the rising feeling of panic in your chest. 

“I knew someone would eventually catch on to what was happening. But how ironic was it that they assigned me to the case out of all people? Those fucking investigators are so inept they never saw it coming. And Claude, well his loyalty was extremely helpful. If you don’t want to be caught, don’t commit the crime yourself.” He whispered. 

“All I wanted was to give them my love, but each and every single one of them broke my heart. All of them except for you.” He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek that made you violently flinch. 

“You were such a little spitfire, and when you showed up to my door I thought I was going to have to kill you on sight. But you proved me wrong, you’re the only one deserving of my love.”

A blue light suddenly lit up the space between you, the glow of the watch casting sinister shadows over the ripper's face. 

Immediately he reached for the watch at the same time as you, and without much effort he wrenched the watch free from your hands and shoved you down to the ground. Your head met the stone first and on impact black spots blurred your vision.

The watch pulsed vibrantly in his hands, humming like a heartbeat. A wicked laugh shook his shoulders as he flipped the face open. 

“So this is how you did it?” He asked, swinging the watch by it’s chain recklessly. 

“Namjoon, don't’!” You cried, struggling to stand. 

But it was too late. A feral scream ripped its way out of your throat as you watched him slam the watch into the ground and violently dig the heel of his shoe into it. The glass shattered, the metal bent, and the blue glow stuttered, weakly thrumming before fizzling out and plunging the alley into darkness. 

The ripper stalked down the alley and stood over you, a viscous smile pulling at his cheeks as he slowly tilted his head to the side. 

“Don’t look so surprised my love, there is only one way I’d ever let you leave me.”