#au: supernatual beings

[lilprincegoo]

Seashells on the Seashore by bundtkookie

taehyung/jungkook

Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Separations, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Jeon Jungkook, Alternate Universe - Magic

11.9k words

rating: T

Magic had a price. As a Sea Witch in a city of merpeople, Taehyung used his magic and witchcraft to try and improve the lives of those around him. He lived a good life- merman Prince Jungkook was just there to add the excitement.

[stayteezdreams]

Request: Hurt to comfort headcanons of maybe gn!reader finding out their ot8!skz is some kind of mythical or supernatural creature

Requested by: @hamburgers101

Pairing: Supernatual Creature!Skz x Gn!Reader (individual)

Warnings: Very brief reference to sex in Hans.

A/N: This is the first time I've written something like this (fantasy au type stuff); so I apologize if it is trash lol. Thank you to @otsilliak for helping me has to what beings/creatures to use. Also, not all of these creatures I chose are based on "proper" mythology, and I just made stuff up, so just go with it! lol. Yes I used Vampire twice, but I had a hard time deciding on what to use for each member lol.

Words: 2.2k

-Ateez Version- -TXT Version-

Bang Chan {Werewolf}

You thought it was a joke at first, just like all the other times.

Sure he would disappear once a month, acting strange and then exhausted the next time you saw him. But obviously he wasn't actually a werewolf.

When he realized he was truly in love with you, he needed you to know the truth, so he showed you.

You were in disbelief. Not only were supernatural creatures like werewolves real, but you had been dating one?

You were stunned and overwhelmed, and hurt he hadn't told you earlier.

He gave you time to think about it time to decide if you truly wanted to stay with him.

He wasn't afraid you would tell anyone, he knew that much. But he was afraid he had scared you away from him. That this was something you couldn't accept.

Once you thought it through, you knew you couldn't leave him, not over something like this.

He was still your boyfriend, still the love of your life. He had been for long enough that nothing could change how you felt about him not even this.

He was so relieved that he cried, he had been terrified that you would abandon him or worse, be scared of him.

He told you everything you wanted to know, and promised to never keep anything from you again.

"Were all those wolf jokes your subtle way of trying to tell me you were a werewolf?" "...Maybe?" "You're ridiculous."

Lee Know {Demon}

Minho would tell you he was a Demon or rather half-Demon, not long after he really knew he loved you.

He knew you wouldn't believe him, so he was prepared to show you, though he was afraid it would only scare you away.

You however, were more in shock, than anything.

He wasn't the type to lie about things like that, so you believed him even without him showing you the way his eyes could turn fully black, or the fact he could sprout literal horns from his head.

You had to admit, you were afraid. Not of Minho, you could never really be afraid of him.

But afraid of the knowledge that creatures you always thought were fables were actually real, and they could be anywhere, they could be anyone.

Luckily (or unluckily), your curiosity ended up overwhelming your fear.

Minho would explain everything to you and answer any questions you had, which there were many of.

But he was patient, willing to share every part of him with you, and his knowledge of the actual world you lived in.

It also explained why he had always been a bit protective over you. Because he knew things you didn't.

There were more demons around than you expected, and he just wanted to keep you safe from the not so good ones.

It took a while to get used to it and your perception of the world changed, but he was there with you through all of it.

And even if he was a demon, you loved him, and he loved you, and you knew he would keep you safe.

Changbin {Vampire}

You weren't supposed to find out, it was an accident, you walked in at the wrong time and Changbin was too slow to hide his Vampiric features from you.

You were confused, thinking you were going crazy, but he admitted that you weren't.

You couldn't handle what he was saying, none of it made sense there was no way he was a Vampire? How could he be?

You left, and though he wanted to chase after you he only thought it would make it worse.

So he waited.

He sent you a few messages, begging you to let him explain, to tell you everything. He swore he wouldn't lie about anything else.

It took you a few days to really decide to go back to him. But you needed to know. What else had he been hiding, what else had he lied about.

He was so relieved when you came back to him he couldn't help but pull you into a hug.

You couldn't help but feel a bit relieved being with him again. You loved him after all, even if he was a Vampire.

You let him explain, and you told him how upset you were he had hid it from you.

You asked question after question, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last. But he had an answer to every one of them, even the stupid ones.

But you talked through it all, and you were willing to stay, because it was still him, still Changbin, the man you fell in love with.

Hyunjin {Siren}

Hyunjin hadn't been the one to tell you. But others, other Sirens, that had hated him for living as a human, and having what he deemed a "normal" life.

Part of you didn't want to believe them, but they showed you their true face, their scales, fangs, eyes, everything, and you couldn't help but truly wonder if Hyunjin was one of them too.

It made you fear that your whole relationship with him had been a lie.

You knew you were entranced by him when you first met, was that because of him?

Did he manipulate you with his siren song? Did he compel you to love him? Was it even real? Were you really in love with him?

When you confronted him, you were caught of guard by his reaction. You expected him to deny it, to act confused, or even angry. But he felt defeated, and was upset that he wasn't the one who told you.

Then his emotions quickly switched when you told him how you found out.

He was suddenly scared for you. Did they hurt you? Did they scare you? Are you alright?

In his reactions, you saw love, real love. Or at least, you hoped it was.

When you asked him about it, about your relationship, he was sad and hurt than you doubted him, but he understood why.

"I fell for you as naturally as you fell for me. And it was perfect, I would never change it for the world. I would never use my powers on you, ever."

It took a more thorough explanation and a bit more convincing before you could fully trust his word.

But you did eventually understand and accept that he did truly love you, and all of your feelings for him had been natural and real.

You feared the Sirens might come back, but Hyunjin promised to keep you safe, and you believed him.

Han {Satyr}

He was tired, he hadn't been thinking.

You entered the room and your smile dimmed, and your brows furrowed and you slowly walked towards him.

He watched you with confusion, wondering what was wrong.

When you hands reached out, he hadn't realized until you touched them, that he had forgotten to hide his horns.

You smiled in awe, wondering out loud if he had been getting prosthetics done for a shoot or something, but then you slowly started to follow the horns to his scalp. Where they protruded from, his actual head.

You backed away, and Han stared at you in fear. Were you going to scream? Run?

"Han? Why do you have horns?"

He would swallow hard and slowly explain, asking you to sit so he could tell you everything.

Tell you how he was a descendants of the not so mythical Satyrs you had learned about in mythology classes.

He had a horn (and a tail, but he held back on that for now), and an innate desire for mischief, that you couldn't help but deny.

You would also later learn that this was also the reason his libido seemed so high (look it up).

You were confused, and hurt that he hadn't told you sooner, especially since you were in a long-term relationship.

But he explained he was afraid that you wouldn't accept him, that you would be afraid of him.

After taking some time for yourself, to think, you made him promise to ever hold anything like this back again, to answer all of your questions, and to trust you.

He agreed, and you started a new chapter in your relationship. That turned out to be filled with a lot more magic and whimsy than you expected.

Felix {Fairy}

When you learned Felix was a fairy, you couldn't say you were surprised, you had jokingly called him one many times.

But to learn it was true, you were shocked and thrown into a state of confusion and hurt.

Felix hadn't told you the truth about him, keeping something this big from you made you wonder what else you didn't know.

He begged you to listen to him, to believe he never wanted to hurt you, but with everything you had learned, you needed space.

He gave it to you, though reluctantly. Telling you he would wait however long it took for you to come back to him.

In reality, it didn't take that long at all. Because even if your world was now completely altered, he was still Felix. Your personal sunshine and the love of your life.

So what if he was a fairy? In fact that kind of added to his charm.

Even if you had resolved to love him no matter what, you made sure he listened to you, and understood he shouldn't have kept this from you for as long as he did.

He apologized again and again, and offered to tell and show you everything.

It was magical to say the least, and seeing Felix in this new light almost made you love him more.

And seeing how accepting you were, and how willing you were to stay for him, made him definitely love you ore. Though he hadn't thought that possible.

Seungmin {Vampire}

"Do you drink blood?" "No that's a myth." "Are you immortal?" "I'm only half-vampire so no." "Can you turn into a bat?" "Y/n, please."

You couldn't help the numerous questions that spilled out of you when Seungmin told you he was a Vampire.

Asking everything that came to mind was the only thing stopping you from panicking and running away.

You needed to know as much as you could to hear it all from Seungmin before you lost your composure.

After you ran out of questions, you sat in silence, contemplating how to react and what to do.

Seungmin watched you from across the room, his leg shaking nervously, anxiety obvious on his features.

"I think...I need to go home." When fear crossed his face you added on "Just for the night, I think I need time to process all of this." He nodded, but you saw he was fighting the urge to convince you to stay.

He did let you go, but made sure to send you goodnight texts, just to let you know he was still there.

The next day, when you saw him again, you felt more nervous than you had around him since you met.

"I'm not sure how to feel but, I'm glad you told me. It might take me some time to get used to it, but I want to stay with you."

He was more than relieve, and nearly ecstatic, and couldn't help but pull you into his arms.

He poured out his feelings in a rambled speech, most of which you missed, but you could sense his love and care for you, and that made it all easier on you.

It was a lot to get used too, but Seungmin was patient, he would wait as long as it took for you to fully accept him and get used to everything you had learned.

I.N {Phoenix}

He should be dead. But hes not. He's here in front of you, explaining why he's not dead but you can barely listen. Your heartbeat is too loud in your head.

You can barely stand, so he helps you sit. He comforts you, begs you to understand, to listen to him, but its all too surreal.

You thought he had died, but here he was.

"I don't understand."

"I know, but I'll explain, everything I promise."

You listened, still in shock, but focused on his words.

Part of you thought you must be dreaming. Nothing he is saying makes sense.

"But aren't Phoenix birds?"

"That's the original form a Phoenix can take. But long ago, there were a special type of Phoenix that could take on human form, and now, genetically the power can be passed on."

"This seems too unbelievable."

"I know, it was to me too, I thought it was some crazy story my parents told me for fun. But, it's not. I understand how you feel, but please, just let me explain everything else."

It took a while for you to believe him, it took explanations not only from him, but his parents, and old books shown to you that had been kept in his family for generations.

Once it finally settled in your brain that it was real, you were astounded.

You were so shocked you couldn't even be angry that he hadn't told you sooner.

"You know, now that you know my family secret, you have to stay with me forever." He joked one day.

"Why or you'll kill me?" He just stared at you and you froze. "You wont kill me right?"

He would start laughing and pull you into his arms, making you groan and smack his shoulder.

"I'd never hurt you. I promise."

xx End xx

Yeah it's trash, I'm sorry DX

General Taglist: @otsilliak

Stray Kids Taglist: @laylasbunbunny, @skz1-4-3

[blacknidstang]

On topic of priests this image was bestowed upon me just now by gods

Some (no supernatual) au where Sam & Dean separate paths like in the djinn episode with Sam becoming a priest because he feels so dirty inside bc of his feelings for Dean and maybe even having the weirdcest going on into their teen years. Dean being like the original pilot, Marlboro cigarettes and tattoos and butterfly knives and shit. Something something happening, reunions & tension & fights ending with Dean fucking Sam in the confessional kinda dubconny and all bc Dean is so fucking done witj Sam's literal holier than thou attitude and needs to prove him he is totally the same sort of animal as him, reminding sam of all their weird somewhat sexual things especially pushed by baby sammy who was so obsessed and hungry for his big brother.

[henrysglock]

care to drop some Henry headcanons?

Hoo boy okay :3

Pets

I don't think canonverse/canon-adjacent Henry would be a pet guy in general. I like writing him as keeping spiders, but my main drive behind that is "he has no friends, and he's collecting ones that are low maintenance" rather than "he likes having pets". Especially re: his living situations in a canon setting, I think he would view anything more than spider jars to be a liability—not to mention the whole "oh, the pet is afraid of me now because of XYZ supernatual reasons" thing. It would be very isolating in that regard, and would probably do more harm than good.

However. In non-canonverse AUs, or canon-adjacent AUs where his contact with the supernatural is minimal (by comparison to canon), I think Henry would be a dog person.

If there's one thing that every version of Henry craves, it's affection. He's always looking for love, and it leads him into situations that any other rational person would deem toxic and dangerous. He's also highly anxious, whether it presents as outward neuroticism or emotional shutdowns.

What better solution than a big, fluffy, dopey dog that will always be happy to see him? One that can just lay on his lap and be petted until he feels better? One that could be trained as a guard dog support dog? Yes. I think so.

I could see Henry having a golden retriever, a St. Bernard, a Great Pyrenees, or even a particularly laid-back German Shepard. He'd probably give it a human name, too, and he'd probably talk to it like he's having a real person-to-person conversation.

If given the opportunity, he'd be a horse guy, too. They just get each other. His horse spooks at a leaf, and he's there like...Yeah, man. Me too. He's the "if my horse kills me, it was my fault" type. He would ride english style, and he would absolutely (silently) judge someone like, maybe, Jim Hopper for being a western saddle guy. They have vaguely homoerotic beef, similar to figure skaters and hockey players.

2. Clothes

Henry seems like the type to always be ridiculously behind the times until someone close to him drags him into modern clothes (kicking and screaming). He's the guy who was dressed "proper" as a kid and grew up to be a man who feels naked without a sweater of some kind. He loves summer because of all the sunlight and warmth, but he feels weirdly exposed in just a cotton t-shirt and slacks. That man would put on a t-shirt and then stare in his long mirror like [Joyce voice] she has nipples....and then he would put on a second top of some kind. Yes, it's 90ºF. Yes, he's wearing a cardigan. Don't judge him. He feels naked without it.

Don't even talk to him about shorts, either, unless he's a) inside his house or b) doing some outdoor activity that involves water.

He would absolutely be the guy who always wears a shirt at the beach/pool. That is, if you could manage to drag him out to the beach/pool.

I also feel like he's the kind of guy who always wears socks. Like. Y'know how some autists hate socks and others can't go without wearing socks? Yeah. He's the latter. But they're all just the plain white crew socks (until someone he knows buys him anything more "fun"). It's not that he doesn't like fun socks, it's just simpler if they all match each other.

That said, he also feels like the kind of guy to have house slippers. There are shoes, which stay in the garage, and then there are the ✨ House Slippers ✨. They're a staple in the winter. Socks+slippers combo outsold.

Speaking of winter: He likes some aspects of winter, like the fresh snow and the ice storms that make the trees clink like wind chimes. However. He hates how dark it is, how early it gets dark, and how damp it is. And if all that brings back bad memories, that's for him to know and no one ever to find out.

3. Lifestyle

Henry has a sleep schedule. He swears he does. It's just, y'know. 7pm to 3am, and then 4am to 7am. The man has dinner and immediately conks out. He's so tired. Don't judge him. His sleep schedule does get better relative to the sliding scale of his mental health. Happy Henry? 10pm-6:30am. Struggling Henry? See the first set of times. He's coping.

Henry is also the type of guy to run himself into the ground when he's sick, and (for obvious reasons) he hates going to the doctor. He will simply suffer with the flu for weeks rather than go get Tamiflu from Urgent Care. He once broke a bone in his hand and tried to convince everyone he knew that he could "heal it by himself". He did exactly that, but everyone was side-eyeing him the whole time.

He gets his vaccines, though. He sucks it up for the greater good, even if he's scurrying around the pharmacy like a prey animal being stalked the entire time.

He hates conservatives and everything they stand for. He has never once voted republican. That doesn't mean he likes the democratic party, but he also understands the concept of a lesser evil.

Henry loves horror video games like Resident Evil, Silent Hill, etc. even if he's curled up in a ball on his couch with a blanket pulled all the way up to his nose the entire time. He swears they're fun, and he swears he's enjoying himself, but he does flinch comically if anyone/anything breaks his concentration.

Henry has zero marks on his driving record. This does not necessarily mean he's a good driver, it just means he has a knack for spotting cops. He will absolutely go 50 mph in a 25 mph school zone as long as there aren't cops around. He pushes triple digits on the interstate—that is, until someone drives like an ass. And then he starts being a petty driver. But like...hey. They had it coming. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, asshole.

2010 Henry Creel would drive a Prius. He would never say it out loud, but he would be insufferable about it, internally. He judges people who drive diesel engines, especially the trucks that puff black smoke.

Henry Creel is the "Did the cops see it? No? Then it's legal." type of person in like 80% of cases. He's not "above" lashing out at people who treat his friends and family poorly, even if he wouldn't do the same on his own behalf. He's not going to report shoplifting. So on and so forth.

He's a coffee person, but mainly just in the way of sweet treats. He's not a huge fan of tea (he came around on boba tea, but only just).

He's only had pecan pie once, with his epi pen ready and a friend there to drive him to the ER. It's his favorite, now, and he sighs wistfully about it whenever he passes a bakery in the fall like it's a forbidden lover. His second favorite is strawberry rhubarb, and he only realized he liked it once he moved to Indiana and tried the homemade kind. He prefers sweet potato pie to pumpkin pie at thanksgiving, but he won't say no to pumpkin pie either.

He prefers creamy soups to broth soups, but he will absolutely fuck up a bowl of chicken noodle or vegetable barley soup. He's a soup enjoyer. An enthusiast, even. Henry's never met a soup he didn't like.

I think I'll leave it here for now :3

[driftingvoid-155]

Thinking of in dead like me au, doing like the fnaf movie and having William be in the place of hiring the nightguards. Also considering snatching the name Steve Raglan. Good way for him to keep an eye on the place and the ghosts kids while also having the fun of hiding a dead body every now and then that the kids kill. Just one of his little supernatual experiments he has going on. He didn't notice anything amiss when hiring Jeremy (amiss in being the night guard he hired was a vampire) and while at first, it was just Jeremy he was going to hire, but he saw Mike's application come across his desk and while it was under the name 'Mike Schmidt', he instantly knew it was his son. A bit of a surprise as he wasn't entirely sure Mike was alive or not after circus baby's and sort of curious about the exact state his son was in, (as he knew that he got scooped and the other animatronics walked him out of there) he hires him along with Jeremy and for the first time there is two night guards. He conducts the entire interview over the phone and at the end, is confident that Mike never picked up on the fact it was him.

From there he keeps his distance, content to just observe for the time being Mike and how the ghosts there react to him. He's a bit surprised that after a few nights, Mike and the other guard are still alive. (okay quick note as I realize I never talked about this but Mike was shoved into a suit his first night alone but it doesnt kill him and Jeremy is the one to help him out and fix him up). He goes in to investigate and does come across the suit and bits of skin still left in the metal and figures out what happened. He puts together that Mike is at least partly immortal but after glimpsing at what Mike looks like, all rotted and corpse like, he realizes it's not the sort of immortality he's after so while he adds it on his mental options of 'maybe', he's still has time and is not done searching yet.

He's also yet to realize Jeremy's a vampire, one of the things he's been searching for as it's one of the only true forms of immortality he's heard about. Right now, Jeremy is simply in his mind as 'the guard I can't believe is still fucking alive.' Even after trailing Jeremy for one day, curious about the kids ability to just survive, he just assumed the guy was a lazy college kid that slept all day and was awake all night. Jeremy's carefree attitude is not what he's expecting a vampire to be so Jeremy continues to fly under his radar.

[loganwritesprobably]

Peter Hale Character Sheet

Context: Hales survived the fire AU

TW: Suicide attempt, Depressive thoughts, mention of vomit

Lots of headcanons in this one including my original Hale family tree!

𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂. 𝙷𝚊����𝚎

"ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴄᴏᴍʙɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ."

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʙᴀꜱɪᴄ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ

ɴᴀᴍᴇ: Peter Sebastian Hale

ɴɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ: N/A

ᴀɢᴇ: 33

ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ: Cis male

ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ: He/him

ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ: Bisexual

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ: October 27th

ᴢᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ ꜱɪɢɴ: Scorpio

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•+⋅

ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛ: 5’10”

ꜱᴋɪɴ ᴛᴏɴᴇ: Fair

ʜᴀɪʀ: Brunette

ᴇʏᴇꜱ: Blue

ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ: N/A

ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴍᴏᴅꜱ: N/A

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ

Peter was never really sure what he wanted to do as a career. He mostly flew through his subjects at school, taking on extra study at home into druidic practices out of pure interest. He never found much of it particularly stimulating. As a result of this, he tested out of high school early, finishing a whole year before his peers (yes he rubs this in the face of Harris, who was the year above him in school). So, with an attitude like that and money to burn, Peter pursued multiple bachelor's degrees. 

He has a bachelor's in literature and one in law. He's always thought he should go back to school just to keep himself occupied but the more trouble Beacon Hills gets itself into, the more his hackles rise and his need to be close to home to protect his family only becomes stronger. He spent a large amount of his childhood babysitting, cooking and cleaning, taking care of not just his own children but also the children of the neighbourhood. Who was he to refuse playdates, particularly when local parents were in need of a helping hand?

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ᴄᴀʀᴇᴇʀ

Peter has dabbled in a few different fields of work, from working with his degrees to menial work for family businesses, but nothing seems to stick. He has his hobbies but he doubts any of them could suffice as a career, like his enjoyment for cooking (but he could never work in a kitchen).

One business that he seems to always come back to, is his interior design work. He only takes clients that he is genuinely interested in working with, and makes sure to do his work to the finest detail perfectly. Clients don't always react well to working with a middle aged man, but he loves being able to prove them wrong. He only does a few jobs each year, whenever the desire strikes, but he enjoys it.

**⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅**

ʜᴏʙʙɪᴇꜱ

༓ Collecting old cars ༓ Collecting old books ༓ Interior design ༓ Language learning

Peter is a man with a lot of spare time and a lot of money.

His wealth of course lends itself to more expensive hobbies but he has never done anything you'd consider.. tasteless. He doesn't own boats, he doesn't 'flex' as he's heard the pups call it. He keeps it to himself. He owns a warehouse out in Beacon County where he stores his small car collection, something he hopes to sink more money into in future. 

He also collects old books. Books on the supernatural, on the old gods, old literature, first editions, books about magic forgotten by time, on druidic practices, anything bound with leather or cloth that costs over $50. He loves his small library (he owns not only his penthouse apartment but also one of the apartments on the floor below for just this purpose). Sometimes he wonders if he should buy a regular house.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ

☾ Romance novels ☾ Theatre ☾ Homecooked meals (especially if he had a hand in the cooking) ☾ Baked goods ☾ Tea ☾ Lavender

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇꜱ

☽ His father ☽ Bananas ☽ Tennis ☽ Supernatual movies/books/tv shows

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴀꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

His aspirations now pertain mostly to his pups. He wants to see them all graduate, and end up in places in their life where they're happy. He wants to help them in any way that he can. He has considered taking in some younger pups, adopting them, but he doesn't think Talia would approve. Some small part of him also aspires to finally escape from Talia's grip, but another part of him feels guilty for even thinking it. That's his sister.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

*ꜰᴇᴀʀꜱ*

༓ Losing his siblings/niblings ༓ Hunters ༓ Discovery

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ

ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ

ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ Lincoln Hale ➼ Deceased

ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ Lillian Hale ➼ Deceased

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Talia Hale ➼ Living

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Nathaniel Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Laura Hale ➼ Living

ɴᴇᴘʜᴇᴡ

➼ Derek Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Cora Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Mae Hale ➼ Living

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Stuart Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Lucy Hale ➼ Living

ɴᴇᴘʜᴇᴡ

➼ Charlie Hale ➼ Missing, presumed deceased

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ

➼ George Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Iris Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ

➼ Celia Hale ➼ Living

ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ-ɪɴ-ʟᴀᴡ

➼ Brooke Hale ➼ Living

ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

➼ Sophie Hale ➼ Living

•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•

ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

➼ Malia Tate ➼ Living

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Peter Hale is a family man. He was close with both of his parents for different reasons, and had special, unique relationships with each of his siblings. Though, this changed the older he became. Talia was his idol, Mae taught him control, George taught him how to fight and Celia was his best friend. When his siblings began having children, they became his whole world.

Out of all his siblings, he has given the most bottles, changed the most diapers and soothed the most scraped knees. It got to a point where some of his nieces and nephews would come to him with their problems over their own parents. It wasn't that they neglected their children, they didn't do that by any measure, (except for Talia, though Peter hated to admit it), he was just always there for them. Their parents worked, Uncle Peter took them to the park, their parents got home late, Uncle Peter cooked them dinner, their parents were too busy to make all their events, Uncle Peter went to every last dance recital, concert and basketball game.

He often got curious looks from teachers and parents, but Peter didn't care. He was there for his nieces and nephews, no matter what they needed. He'd pick them up from school and walk them home or wait for them when one of their parents was going to be late. One of Laura's teachers once asked if Peter was okay, she was worried he was caring for his nieces and nephews alone, but he only laughed. Of course, he wasn't, but also of course he would if he needed to. They're family.

Peter was an accident. It’s no secret in his family. At first, it had been something said by his mother, she wanted no secrets kept from him, and it was something to boast about. Some children were hated for being accidents, but Peter was loved despite it. When his mother died, his father changed that. Sometimes, in the cold, darkness of winter nights, Peter was sure he could hear his father muttering that his mother’s death was his fault.

When his eldest niece Laura was born, he was just five years old. He didn’t entirely understand what had happened except now he had someone new to look after and play with. He would sit in her nursery to play with his toys. This was when Talia still cared, so she would gently remind him to be quiet near the baby and to be gentle with her when he cuddled her. He was always gentle. He wouldn’t dream of hurting the baby.

He was seven when Derek was born, so he was old enough to understand everything and to want to help as much as he could. Though he wasn’t trusted with the baby just yet, this is when Talia’s care began to wander and so he was told that to help he could look after Laura. Peter agreed. He would sit with Laura in Derek’s nursery, and they would play and do colouring, just making sure the baby was okay. Derek had been born so close to Peter’s birthday that he had joked that Derek was his birthday present, him being born was like being given another friend.

When Iris was adopted he was eight. He welcomed her just the same, trusted slightly more with her than he had been with Derek when he’d first been born, but George also took more care with his daughter than Talia did with hers, so Peter felt less need to watch over her. Sometimes Derek was left crying for a long time, so Peter and Laura would climb into his crib, Iris rarely cried. She was a happy baby.

He was fourteen when Charlie was born, and then Cora. By now, he was more than just good with kids and so he took to them both like a duck to water. He loved them dearly. Laura was nine so she helped Peter where she could, though he made sure that she never did as much as he did. She was too little, not like Peter. Talia by this point had lost almost all of her interest in her children, so Peter took over. Not like Nathaniel had ever cared.

When Charlie went missing, it consumed Peter. He was just sixteen. He spent an entire year looking for him. It became his job, his life. Every morning, he ate breakfast so he'd have the energy to look for his nephew, he ate lunch so he wouldn't crash, he slept so he'd be rested enough to use his senses to their full potential. Then, one day, Talia told him to stop. They had quite the argument about it, Peter was desperate to find his nephew and Talia claimed Mae was more upset by his trying because she couldn't mourn her loss. So, he stopped. But he never let go of the hope that his nephew was out there, somewhere, safe, and happy.

During the time Charlie was missing, early on, he met an older woman named Corinne while he was out asking about Charlie. She could tell he was in distress and thought he was cute. She took advantage of this. Later that year, his daughter Malia was born, and Talia couldn't stand it, so she took away his memories of his daughter, made sure Corinne would never return, and put Malia into the adoption system as she had with Charlie.

Now, Peter has another son. A son of his own. Theo Raeken had turned up one day on his doorstep, soaking wet from the rain, with just a backpack and looking like he’d been crying. Theo had killed his previous ‘guardians’ and now needed somewhere to go. He’d known he could trust Peter. So, he took the Chimera in without a moment’s hesitation, finding comfort in having someone else in his large and empty apartment and enjoying having someone to care for again. It didn’t matter that Theo wanted it to be a secret, Peter was just happy to have someone to cook for and help with homework again.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ

Peter has never been someone who made friends. He had however been friends with the late Claudia Stilinski, and her husband Noah. When Claudia passed away, he became even closer with Noah, helping him with his almost addiction.

The only other real friend that he has is the newest addition to the Sheriff's department, one Jordan Parrish. An unlikely friendship that means a lot to Peter. Jordan was close to his age, just four years younger, where his other friend Noah was sixteen years older. It was nice to have someone he could relate to, joke with, and feed. Peter feeds everyone he cares about, especially his friends living in run down apartments that clearly have troubled pasts.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ

When Peter was sixteen, he got into a 'relationship' with Corinne, also known as the Desert Wolf. This relationship led to Corinne becoming pregnant with Peter's child and giving birth to Malia. Peter was being manipulated by the significantly older woman, it was clear to everyone when he told them about her. Talia resented that he'd had a child so young when the town's eyes were already on her because of how he treated her own children, so she took Peter's memories and put Malia up for adoption, erasing her from the family.

Following the trend of Peter preferring those older than him, he also fell into bed with one Deucalion Blackwood, who later became the Alpha of Alphas. Peter was nineteen this time around and so while it was legal, Deucalion was still much older than he was and so it was thrilling. The relationship was almost entirely sex and Peter loved it. He grew to love Deucalion. But, the other man didn't feel the same. After he became blind, he left Beacon Hills behind without so much as a goodbye.

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

╭──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╮

ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

As a Werewolf, Peter’s body is in peak physical condition. Though, he still takes time to exercise to maintain his shape, because although his body was naturally inclined to health and wellness, that doesn’t mean he should let himself slack.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ

Peter has never been officially diagnosed with anything. This is something he holds onto no matter how people fight it. He refuses to be anything other than "normal" (though this is never something he'd force on others, just a strange standard he set for himself). Though, if you took him to a professional, he would undoubtedly be diagnosed with Autism.

Also, Peter has issues with anxiety. Had the fire happened, who could know how severe that would have become. Before Deucalion, Peter was generally uncaring for others unless they were family, but being involved with someone else opened him up to more feelings and so now has something of an abandonment issue problem. He also has issues with anxiety when it comes to departing from his routines.

Peter would say, looking back, that he might have had depression as a teenager. From around the time Cora was born. But he didn't have time to be depressed, he had little ones depending on him and grades to get. Besides, his siblings only just had time for their own kids they didn't have time for him. So, he ignored it. He packed all his issues into a little box and just kept going, his pups as the only highlight of his very gloomy life. He isn't sure it ever went away, but it got easier. Even if it did get a whole lot worse when his mother died. It's been creeping its way back in since he moved out, but he refuses to move back home or visit too often, lest Talia say something about it.

TW: Suicide attempt, Depressive thoughts, mention of vomit

Following his relationship with Deucalion, his mental health took a dive. There was a time where he thought he'd never come out of the dark spot. He wasn't helping the pups like he should, he was falling behind in school. It was hard. He couldn't find any positives, any silver linings, no reason to keep going. The pups had plenty of family, and even if they'd miss him, they'd learn to live without him. Maybe their lives would finally be normal. So.. he tried to OD.

Peter's attempt did not succeed. Of course it didn't, his body processed the pills quickly and he was throwing them up before he could even process that he felt sick at all. After that, the depression got worse for a while. He felt guilty for trying to leave, he hated himself for having to stay, he spoiled the pups for weeks following it just to make up for a sin they didn't know he'd committed. He never told anyone. They didn't need to know that he'd tried to take the coward's way out, since some part of him knew that an OD just wouldn't take.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ

Peter enjoys cooking, particularly for others, and so he often eats well. He shops at the farmer’s market, buying the highest quality ingredients possible in order to ensure that himself, and those he cares about, eat the best that they can. It’s important - and Peter is just a little bit of a snob when it comes to food.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ

Peter’s memory is significantly above average, that was how he managed to become so educated. He remembers every birthday, every event, every embarrassing thing you wish he’d forget.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ

Peter really values his sleep. He doesn’t often nap, but it’s important to him that he gets at least seven hours of sleep each night, though he prefers at least nine. He likes to sleep. Though, he doesn’t object to sleeping less if he’s needed for something.

╰──── ⋅𖥔⋅ ────╯

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

[krp-verse]

click on the krp name to be redirected to their blog!

WELCOME → NIGHTWORLD KRP !

001. MEWE 002. 18+ 003. SUPERNATUAL MASTER X PET AU 004. LITERATE 005. ALL ASIAN FCS, LIMITED WESTERN FCS 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 —of the boogie-man and other Supernatural beings used to be told to keep children inline, as entertainment for adults looking for a good scare. Even romanticized as conflicting love stories between Humans and Supernaturals. But these were just stories, right? 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒕 —Perhaps children were not the only ones needed to be kept inline. Humans as a whole, never anticipated what would happen when the Black Dawn rose. The Night World, a secret society of Supernatural beings was to be a secret no more. No more hiding, no more pretending. 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑺𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝑾𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔

→ use our tag #krpv to be reblogged!

[hotdadlicense]

top 5 albums??

laurel....... i love you.

CURRENTLY??? aka the albums featured most heavily in my personally crafted playlists these past few months

gag order - kesha happy i would quite honestly die for you. you are on REPEAT baby girl

dance fever - florence choreomania and daffodil im holding your hands until the end of time. also mermaids but thats technically a b-cut i guess

tell me i'm alive - all time low you're in the car it's late at night you're listening to this album. u know what happiness feels like.

high road - kesha i downloaded u in like 2021 and u still feature on like every playlist i make. love you forever and ever and ever.

mainstream sellout - mgk 100% blame my sister for my mgk phase whatever this album bangs and again i downloaded u in like 2021 and you're still making it onto like all of my playlists. thanks.

OF ALL TIME????? uhhhh

two lefts don't make a right... but three do - relient k (cos i was raised in a christian household and was not allowed to listen to non-christian music so relient k and superchic[k] and switchfoot pretty much owned me. also they all still slap i fuckin still listen to them regularly! they feel like home and childhood, especially this album? also their christmas album is one of the first ones i break out every november/decemeber)

so wrong it's right - all time low (cos they were like the first band i "discovered" when i started listening to non-christian music when i was like 11 or 12 or whatever and this album really REALLY changed the course of my life in MANY ways. like i don't even know the girl i'd be today if i that fake dylan efron on myspace didn't have dear maria as their myspace song. its been like 16 years now and me and my sister were just having a breakdown last night trying to organise seeing them again cos they finally dropped aus tour dates. all cos of this silly album. literally again they feel like homeeeee

between two lungs - florence and the machine (cos when i was a young little dumbass and in my supernatural phase aka when i was like 13, i watched a ship video on youtube between dean winchester (supernatural) and trish wellington (harper's island) becos i wasnt aware of me being #bi yet but i was slightly obessed with ruby 1.0 on supernatual who was played by katie cassidy so naturally i went through and watched like. all of her shit. and this ship video had blinding - florence as the song and i was like. oh this is it. this is me entering a new phase of my life. and i was right. and over the years i dragged my sister in it with me and we've seen her every time she comes to aus together and everytime blinding comes on in the car my sisters like 'idk why you love this song so much but yes we can listen to it. even though she has better songs' anyway. feels like home x3)

idk i could probably put kesha or mgk in here as well given the #stats of my last two year reviews on apple music and just the patten of songs in all the playlists i've made in the past 2+ years but it's still too soon. they're still fresh in my heart. and i'm too baby to commit. yet. and i know there's like homesick - adtr and can't stop won't stop - the maine and even the fucking high school musical soundtrack but like. idk nothing really deserves to be on the same tier as those three above so. TOP THREE BABY.

[joyfullywizard]

THIS. Those who are attacking various Dracula adaptations and various movies with Dracula like this it seems have somewhat poor understanding and knowledge of Dracula cinematic history and its development and that it was Dracula's cinematic reinterpretations, not the novel itself, that made Dracula into King of the Vampires and basically synonymous with the term "vampire" itself. Movies gave him this big life in popular culture, not the novel itself. Novel was basically a starting point for inspiration. Also Van Helsing movie is not even adaptation of the novel itself. It's original AU story with Van Helsing here being basically original character with same last name, Renfield is not an adaptation of the novel too, it's a black comedy sequel to 1931 movie. Dracula Untold is also not adaptation of the novel, it's fantasy supernatual story about historical Vlad Tepes, lol. And Nosferatu is very loosely based version which basically became its own story with its own original characters and themes. Are people seriously try to attack those movies for not being like the novel? LOL.

Not to be a hater but I’ve been seeing a lot of posts shitting on various Dracula adaptations for being unfaithful to the book and quite frankly i think it’s unfair. Adaptations aren’t meant to be 1:1 recreations of a thing, they’re literary meant to adapt it into a different media and usually end up becoming a thing of their own. I know there are a lot of aspects of the Dracula book that get lost in these (typically film) adaptations, but it’s not fair to completely discredit them as media because they don’t follow the same structure or narrative as the book. Yes, do I want to see a film adaptation of the Harker’s love that is as faithful and wonderful as the Re: Dracula retelling? Yes, do I want to see Lucy depicted as a victim of Dracula rather than his concubine? Yes, would I like to see the suitor squad in all their glory with their original characteristics? Yes, ABSOLUTELY! But I’m not going to sit here and say that wanting those things makes movies like Van Helsing or Dracula Untold or Bram Stoker’s Dracula or Nosferatu or the Netflix Dracula series or Renfield inherently bad.

[krystahalume2015]

Fan Fic ..

My awesome co writers helped me on this a lot! Here’s to my girls..  ScorpioSnoopy666, TheIllusionistsExploist

first part 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046856/chapters/47473318

Second part (WIP)  https://archiveofourown.org/works/20165599/chapters/47775598 Illusion’s part (she’s the main author on this one!) ( wip)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20370043/chapters/48307393  ENJOY! 

[cynder-wolfy]

*rereads draft* aw man i wish i had continued this =(

Wisdom From Above: You Can

[alifeasvivid]

Will you ever do a ukus au story about America being a stripper and a prostitute?

I don't have any plans to do so currently. "Merely Players" is a fic where, by a convoluted series of events, Arthur mistakes Alfred for one, but he's actually an actor

There are some ideas rattling around in my head for the frukus au ("Three-Part Harmony") and Alfred was previously a stripper in that au

I do have this angsty drabble thing, but it is very short

XD you guys always ask me about AU's that plenty of people have done better than I ever could...

Nothing I Don't Want by jedishampoo (Alfred is actually a prostitute there and the fic is super heckin' cute and Arthur is very emotionally constipated)

Good Boy, There also by jedishampoo (bit on the darker side-fantasy AU where sex slaves are a normal thing and Alfred is one, Arthur is his master)

Ukiyo by Just_a_Fangirl (set in the Pleasure District in Edo Japan with some supernatual elements. Alfred is a geisha in a sense, it's really good if you're looking for something longer)

I've hurt my back and I'm in a stupid amount of pain rn so... that's all I can think of. Anyone else please feel free to add to this list.

[diavolosthots]

HEY GUYS HERE ARE SOME RULES

I know I said i wouldn't do rules but wow you guys need some guidance.

- LEAVE MY PAGE IF YOU’RE A MINOR. ONLY 18+

- first and foremost, there’s not much I wont do. You, as a reader, are OBLIGATED to avoid the topics/things that make you uncomfortable.

- don't send requests when requests are closed. Check the description if you're unsure. Or ask.

- Going off of that, tumblr eats a LOT of asks. If your asks, for whatever reason, never got answered, it’s either because tumblr eats them or they didn’t give me inspiration. If you’re unsure of which one happened, shoot me a message and I will tell you if I ever saw it or not. 

- Be clear and precise in what you want. Saying things like “I don’t care what brother or scenario, just make it nsfw” will get your request deleted. 

- Do not send in pregnancy/abortion/children etc... Requests. Breeding NSFW is fine, but not the process of pregnancy/giving birth/abortions/the boys with kids. However the boys AS kids or MC AS a child is fine.

- Don’t send Luke outside of anything platonic. That includes ‘grown-up’ headcanons/scenarios for him. 

- don't request an orgy with all 7 brothers, whether that's for obey me or DL/supernatual (if you want a threesome, I can do that.).

- please no poly either due to my inability to write more than 3-4 characters in a fic. Its hard to write for everyone at once and I will forget like... at least 2 characters.

- DO NOT (and i cant emphasize this enough) send in OC requests. I just don't feel like I could capture YOUR OC in the light they deserve. I am sorry bb.

- DO NOT send spoilers for obey me!!! I think it's safe to say that everything after lesson 20 is still a spoiler at this point.

- Do NOT send in AU requests 😩 I just honestly don't like them and they're somewhat hard to write for me.

- please don't send in weird kinks 💀 I'm NOT kinkshaming but the watersports request really got to me. I'll just tell you if I ever think a kink is not up my alley. Kinks that definitely won't be written are: Golden shower/watersports, foot fetish, vore, genital mutilation, feces, corpses, age play, bestiality for MC (if you want the brothers/undates, for example, @waltnut ’s level 4 design, that’s cool. The Paws and Claws event is also fine but pushing it so choose your words wisely). 

- please only ask for either the brothers or undateables at one time for headcanons OR up to 7 characters at a time. (I.e. you can mix it and say "yeah i want lucifer, mammon, satan, Belphegor, diavolo, simeon, and solomon") It's hard to do more than that in one singular post. For Diabolik Lovers, choose one of the sets of brothers (Sakamaki, Mukami, Tsukinami) or 7 characters. Same for Supernatural. 

- IF YOU WANT A CONTINUATION OF A STORY PLEASE COME WITH AN IDEA. DO NOT JUST SEND IN "can you continue XYZ story"

- if you send in NSFW requests and do NOT SPECIFY THE GENDER it will automatically be female

- imma get a lot of hate for this but I’m NOT making Lucifer/Ruki Mukami a sub in a short fic/scenario. They'll die before they sub for anyone

- Due to personal preferences and being uncomfortable with the ship, I will NOT write DiaLuci fics. Threesomes with both involved are fine.

- I hold the right to deny a request if I can't envision it or straight up don't like it.

Thank you and sorry for any inconvenience ❤

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.X: Was it Worth it in the End? Part One

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, very heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, mentions of death and murder, mentions of trauma, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 7,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

A/N: It’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience and support! Please enjoy! 

“—this plan is fucking insane!” 

“You said anywhere was better than the mansion!” 

“That was before I knew you were claiming sanctuary with the very people that sent Teenage Chewbacca to maul Jinyoung and I!” 

“It was Minho who turned Changbin! How many goddamn times do I have to say that to get it through your thick skull!?” 

The incessant bickering of the two voices gradually lifts Jinyoung from his slumber, reintroducing his mind to the workings of reality. He flutters his eyes open, surprised at the lack of light, and forces himself to sit up. At his sudden movement, his head roars with pain, sending a dizzy spell through his limbs. He manages to swallow the temporary vertigo and keep upright, quickly realizing his current position in the backseat of a car. 

“Jinyoung?... Oh thank god—he’s awake.” 

“It’s about fucking time.” 

“(Y/N)? Jaebeom-hyung?” Jinyoung squints, attempting to map out your and his brother’s silhouettes through the blackness. He manages to pinpoint the annoyed glare of the latter in the passenger seat, thus concluding that you are probably driving. “What happened? How did I get here?” 

“While you were taking a snooze, that fucking superwolf broke into our home and nearly ripped my throat out.” Jaebeom snorts, “Of course, not until after he impaled me with my own landscaping.” 

“I managed to stake him before he hurt Jaebeom.” You pipe in, “But we don’t think it killed him—only slowed him down long enough to let us get away.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head in both confusion and shock, immediately regretting the decision when his brain pounds like a bass drum. He allows himself a moment to pass the ache before cautiously speaking, “And… where exactly are we going?” 

“Yeah, Wonder Woman. Why don’t you tell my brother where your brilliant idea for refuge is?” 

Jinyoung can feel the intensity of your glare from the back seat. 

“I’m taking us to the wolf pack.” You murmur softly, “If anyone has a chance of talking Changbin down, it will be his own people.” 

“And as I was explaining to our dear (Y/N), the wolf pack also has a pretty large bounty over our heads.” Jinyoung hears Jaebeom release a heavy sigh before leaning back in his seat, “We’ll be attacked the moment we step foot out of this car.” 

“Would you stop being so damn paranoid?” Your frustrated demand echoes throughout the car, “Not everyone is out to kill you—”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies over the centuries, little dove… Killed a lot of people—pissed off even more.” 

“Maybe, but I know you didn’t kill Jackson Wang.” 

The car grows dead silent minus the heavy breathing of who Jinyoung assumes to be his hybrid companion. He tries to make out Jaebeom’s expression, but it’s too dark. His imagination will have to do. 

“Everyone says you did, but I know there’s more to the truth.” You say, “I may not know what exactly happened, but Jackson’s death wasn’t your fault—either of your faults.” 

“And how exactly do you know this?” 

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that the pack is our only viable option at the moment, and I need you to trust me on this.” 

Jaebeom sighs, “Good God—this is not happening.”

“I trust her.” Jinyoung answers without hesitation, reaching across the council to lay a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. “We have no reason not to, hyung.” 

“And why the hell not?” To his dismay, Jaebeom shrugs away from Jinyoung’s touch. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you with my life.” 

“Because I could have let Changbin kill you… but I didn’t.” 

Jaebeom grows silent again. And although no words are said, Jinyoung knows—and knows that you know—that the conversation ended in your favor. Jaebeom may be a paranoid, narcissistic sociopath, but even he is capable of hope in the darkest of moments. 

A sudden gasp disrupts the hushed atmosphere, resonating from beside Jinyoung a mere foot away. For the first time, he notices a third body propped in the seat next to him. The figure writhes and releases a set of whimpers before growing still once again. 

“We have another issue.” Jaebeom murmurs darkly, “Changbin bit Tzuyu during our fight, and when I tried to heal her with my blood… it didn’t work.” 

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean it didn’t work?” 

“Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon that would have the power to kill you and Jaebeom—the only two invincible beings in existence.” Your explanation causes Jinyoung’s heart to sink, “His venom can’t be cured by Jaebeom’s blood, so…” 

“So Tzuyu is going to die unless we find a cure.” Jaebeom finishes with a hum, “We better get to it fast cause the hallucinations are already starting.” 

“The pack will help us.” You affirm. “I know they will.” 

Jinyoung truly hopes that your confidence is well placed. Afterall, it is his, Jaebeom and Tzuyu’s lives all on the line. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“I don’t think I’ll be able to do this.” Mark stresses, flipping through the grimoire with enough force to tear the pages. “This spell needs a lot of power—” 

“Can’t you do what Youngjae does and channel something? Like a celestial event?” 

Mark shakes his head. “Even that won’t be enough. I would have to channel the power unnaturally… through black magic.” 

“It’s only one spell—what harm could it do?” 

“Black magic is dark magic, Jack.” Mark directly addresses his werewolf companion, shaking his head even more feverishly. “It’s unpredictable… We could offset the balance of nature and—” 

“I don’t give a shit about the balance of nature, Mark!” Jackson cuts in, “This may be our one and only chance to get rid of the Primes—to protect our town and the ones we love… Don’t you think that’s a little more important than upsetting the magic gods?...”

“You don’t understand—magic always comes with a price.” Mark says darkly, “I can’t trust what will happen if I use black magic… For fucksake, Jackson—I could kill you.” 

Jackson places his hands on Mark’s shoulders, staring deep into the witch’s eyes. “I trust you with my life, Mark… and I know you won’t let me down.” 

Mark debates with himself, attempting to find a solution past the chaos of his thoughts. His gut tells him it's a bad idea, but Jackson, his best friend, is telling him otherwise. He’s right—it is only one spell—and like he said, Jackson trusts him… 

Mark just has to trust himself too. 

“Alright.” He finally nods, “I won’t let you down… I promise.” 

“Mark-hyung—Mark!” 

At the call of his name, Mark’s mind springs from unconsciousness. His eyes snap open, discovering multiple familiar faces staring down at him. He releases a pained groan, just now recognizing the ache running through his entire body, before murmuring softly: 

“What… happened?”

“How much do you remember?” 

Mark attempts to pilfer through his memories, recalling his argument with Minho that resulted in the theft of his magic and the moments thereafter where said witch transformed Changbin into a super werewolf. He closes his eyes shut and leans back with a huff. 

“How long have I been out?” 

Youngjae hums, “At least a couple hours. Minho locked us in the old crypt after you passed out, so we really don’t have any sense of time.” 

“Sounds fucking fantastic.” With a deep moan, Mark forces himself into a sitting position. His spine wails at the movement, but he pays it no mind and instead stretches his arms over his head in an attempt to work out the knots in his bones. He also takes the time to survey his surroundings, discovering, just as Youngjae said, to be inside the dingy, crumbling underground cavern beneath the mausoleum. He can’t remember the last time he’s been down here—how ironic. 

“I’m guessing Changbin made a beeline for the Project Estate?”

“Didn’t even hesitate.” Youngjae answers, “You don’t think he got them… do you?” 

“I honestly could care less about the Primes right now.” With Youngjae’s help, Mark manages to push himself to his feet before finding purchase against a stone pillar. He takes a second to catch his breath, then continues, “There’s an exit down here that leads into a bunch of old tunnels underneath the graveyard. If we can find it, there’s a chance we might—” 

“I wouldn’t think about it, hyung.” Mark’s suggestion dies on his tongue as his favorite witch emerges from a dark corner. Beside him, Youngjae releases a surprised gasp while seeming to shrink in on himself. Mark, on the other hand, doesn’t budge. 

“Enjoying this villain complex a little too much, don’t you think?” 

“You don’t seem very happy with me, Mark-hyung…” Minho smirks.

“Okay—you’ve had your damn fun.” Mark sneers, “Let us all go before I really start to get pissed.” 

“Like you can do anything about it anyway, without any magic and all—” The witch wiggles his finger in which the ancient ring still rests. “—and don’t worry. Once the blood moon fully passes, you’re all free to leave.” 

“You’re a real fucking psycho, you know that? You really think Changbin is gonna manage to kill both Jaebeom and Jinyoung by himself?” 

“I could care less if he does.”

Mark’s eyes narrow, “Why are you keeping us down here? What else could you possibly want?” 

“Well, I want to make you suffer as much as possible… but that was already kind of obvious, don’t you think?” 

“I’m serious, Minho!” Mark’s hiss echoes between the stone walls of the crypt, bouncing back in his ears like a record on repeat. “Why go to all this trouble to kill the Primes? To mess with me? Are you really that desperate for revenge? That you’d hurt your own people trying to get it?” 

Minho shakes his head with a growl, “You all made it very clear that I was never a part of this coven.” 

“That is such bullshit!” Mark peers over his shoulder to find Lia emerging from another part of the cavern, followed closely by a quivering, wild-eyed Jisung. “You just never got over the fact that we chose Mark as coven leader—not you!” 

“At least I could have kept Nayeon alive!” 

“Nayeon’s death wasn’t Mark’s fault! It wasn’t any of our faults!” Lia screams, “Why are you so strung up about this anyway!?”

“Because I loved her!” The atmosphere grows strangely tense at the young witch’s confession, effectively forming the beginnings of a large lump in Mark’s throat. That mass only grows as Minho continues on, “She was the only one who understood me! She believed in me when no one else would!” 

Through the corner of his eye, Mark can see the same shock and pain spreading along Youngjae’s features as his own, as well as Jisung’s. 

Lia’s expression, however, does not change. “I think you forget that all of us loved Nayeon—all of us are still grieving. It’s not just you.” 

“You don’t understand—” 

“Then make us understand for crying out loud!” Lia exclaims while throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “You go on about all this bullshit that we never try to include you, when it’s you who never tries—it’s you who always pushes us away!

“We’re supposed to be a team—a family… We are all that’s left of this coven, and look at us now.” 

Minho remains silent. 

A single tear cascades down Lia’s cheek as she shakes her head. “Nayeon-unnie would be so disappointed… in all of us.” 

At her words, Mark feels his heart practically sink into his stomach. He notices the blank expression etched across Minho’s face, wondering what could possibly be going through the young witch’s mind. For a moment, he has hope that Lia’s speech actually knocked some sense into him—that he’ll actually make amends and set them free. 

But alas… he speaks too soon. 

“Apné sà mene…” Mark immediately recognizes the incantation for a boundary spell, attempting to hurry toward the doorway in which Minho retreated towards. His chest smacks into an invisible barrier, sending his body sprawling back to the crypt floor. Both Youngjae and Lia rush to his side to help him back to his feet—a new pain lingering in his side. 

He glares at the retreating witch with all his might. 

“You’re gonna regret this.” 

“Not as much as I regret ever looking up to you.” Minho waves his hand one final time, making sure to flash his ring, before disappearing up the staircase that leads out of the crypt. With a bitter taste in his mouth, Mark watches as he goes, continuing to do so until he hears the familiar sound of a closing door. 

He turns to the trio. “Any chance one of you can break the boundary spell?” 

“I might be able to siphon enough power from Lia and Jisung to take it down—” Youngjae shakes his head, “—but it will only be temporary. Maybe ten seconds or less?” 

“That’s better than nothing.” Mark nods, “When Youngjae breaks it open, you guys will go through the passageways and head to the Wang Cabin to warn the wolf pack—” 

“No.” Lia interrupts his explanation, “Minho will be able to sense our magical energy the minute we step foot out of the boundary. You, however, do not have any magic at the moment.” 

“You need to warn the pack, hyung.” Youngjae agrees with a nod, “You’re the only one that can get out undetected.” 

Mark feverishly shakes his head, “There’s no fucking way I’m leaving you three here. It’s not happening—”

“Don’t worry about us.” Lia says, “I have a plan to stop both Minho and Changbin.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Minho bound Changbin’s power to his own in order to complete the transformation.” She explains, pointing up toward the ceiling. “Once the blood moon is over, Minho will no longer have the power to uphold the spell, so Changbin will no longer be able to remain in his enhanced form, which means…” 

“Which means we have to stop the spell before the night ends.” Mark breathes, “Okay… How do we do that?” 

“Youngjae can siphon Minho’s magic which should give us enough power to counteract the spell completely… that is, if we can get close enough.” 

“Once Mark-hyung warns the pack, we’ll have more than enough backup to take him down.” Youngjae adds, “We need to do this now, before he comes back.” 

Mark shakes his head again, “I don’t know about this—”

“We can do this. Trust us, Mark.” 

Lia’s determined gaze strikes a chord deep within Mark’s chest. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so serious and resolute… 

He’s never seen her look so much like a leader. 

“Fine.” He reluctantly agrees, “Let’s do it.”  

“Lia? Jisung?” At Youngjae’s call, both of the younger witches offer their hands for the siphoner to take. His own hands glow as he begins the counter incantation, gesturing for Mark to make his move with a nod of his head. Mark does as requested, carefully sliding past a crack in a nearby pillar to enter the secret passageway. 

He spares one final glance at his coven mates, admiring the fierce passion along each of their features, before turning into the tunnel and becoming one with the shadows of the night.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Sometimes you forget life even existed before your time in Moon Dye Bay. Maybe it’s a result of your newfound interest in supernatural existence, or possibly due to the close relationships you’ve made throughout your stay. In the entirety of your time of living, you’ve never once called anywhere home, and while you still refuse to commit yourself to such a description, you can’t deny that this strange, little town has come pretty damn close. 

Before you moved to Moon Dye, you lived in Chicago for about a year while finishing up your graduate work. Not quite in the city, but in a borderline rundown suburbia on the outskirts. There, you rented a decent condo for dirt cheap and found a well-paying, easy office job right down the street. It was every college student's greatest dream—until it wasn’t. 

To this day, your mind still doesn’t recall the event as vividly as it should. Probably in an effort to ease the underlying trauma and fear. Even so, you don’t like to think back on it too much… Who would—when you’re the only survivor in a massacre of dozens of innocent people? 

But even so, if it weren’t for that day, you would never have ended up in Moon Dye Bay… nor learned that fairy tale creatures aren’t quite fictional afterall. 

You push the thought away to focus on pulling into the nonexistent driveway. The passenger beside you releases a rather loud groan as the car rocks back and forth, but you choose not to comment on his obvious distaste of your driving. You’re too exhausted… and frankly, you just don’t care at this point. 

“You guys stay in the car.” You say while killing the engine and shrugging off your seatbelt, “I should talk to them first just in case, so try not to get yourselves in any more trouble while I’m gone.” 

Jaebeom clicks his tongue, “Says the one who can’t seem to go one day without being attacked.” 

“Hyung—” Jinyoung goes to scold his brother, but your voice beats him to it. 

“Last I checked, it was your girlfriend, your proxy vampire minion, and, surprise, surprise, you who have all tried to turn me into a human blood bag.” You exit the car before throwing one final glare at the hybrid, “Keep treating me like some sort of liability, and the next time someone tries to kill your pompous ass, I won’t be so kind as to save your fucking life.” 

With that, you shove the vehicle door shut with a little more force than necessary and storm toward the cabin, attempting to push the annoyance from mind. You wouldn’t usually waste your breath on something like Jaebeom’s pettiness, but with the combination of the stress of the current situation and fear for everyone’s lives at stakes, you really don’t want to deal with the hybrid’s need to make you feel like the dumbest person on the planet. 

You eventually reach the front door, lifting a hand to knock at the wooden surface. The ominous silence of the nighttime tugs at your nerves as you wait—hopefully one of the wolves is actually up at this hour… maybe you should have called beforehand? 

As each minute passes, your patience grows thinner and thinner. Even after another series of rather obnoxious knocks, no one opens the door. You debate returning to the car and discussing a Plan B with your undead squad, but decide to check the backyard first. Maybe the pack is having some sort of late night bonfire…? 

You carefully navigate your way around the cabin, using the light of your cellphone as a guide through the darkness. Minus catching your toe on a loose board in the decking, you manage to make it to the back of the cabin unscathed. However, the sight that you find is definitely far from that of the bonfire: 

From what little you can see, the yard is completely trashed. Picnic tables lay in splintered halves while other pieces of furniture are either smashed to smithereens or tossed to the side. Even Dahyun’s clothesline is no longer standing, and is instead strewn carelessly across the grass along with its collection of unfolded laundry. A particular sweatshirt catches your attention, appearing somewhat dirty in the minimal light. Once you’re close enough, you take the garment in your own two hands to better identify the mysterious stains… and you almost wish you hadn’t seen it in the first place when the realization settles in your head: 

A large splotch of fresh blood is decorated across the fabric like an unfinished painting.  

“Shit…” You curse, searching the area for any other possible clues of the pack’s whereabouts. Near the edge of the pond, you discover what seems to be an array of footprints in the mud, leading into the black of the quiet forest. There are multiple sets, you find, and you hope they all belong to the werewolves in question… 

You know you should return to the car and report your findings to Jaebeom and Jinyoung, but something in your gut tells you that someone is in trouble. 

Before you can dwell on the cons, you push forward into the woods, following the muddy footprints as best as you possibly can. Between pushing away mischievous branches and stepping over lazy logs, you’re almost reminded of the path you traversed before you met with Mina… You can only hope the events that follow this time aren’t as horrific. 

“Yugyeom!...” You call softly, trying not to mistake each tree trunk as the silhouette of a person. “Bang Chan!... Anyone out here!?...” 

The screech of the nightly breeze is your response. You eventually lose the footprint trail, unable to base your path off of anything but intuition. Your desire to turn back is strong, but you’ve come this far… and you doubt you’ll even be able to find your way back to the cabin at this point. 

Your body tenses as a high-pitched wail enters your ears—a wail that sounds oddly similar to that of a human. Against the siren in your head screaming red flags, you head in the direction in which the noise came from. The silence pesters you as you go, practically electrifying your nerves from the inside out. 

Out of nowhere, your foot catches some kind of large branch or rock, sending your body sprawling toward the earth with a loud gasp. You manage to break your fall with your arms, ignoring the gentle ache in your wrists, and scramble to grab the phone you dropped on the way down. Your anxiety is practically through the roof by the time the device is back in your grasp, but you muster up the courage and move to continue your search. However, the reveal of something that looks oddly like a human limb freezes your muscles. 

It wasn’t a branch you tripped over… it was a leg. 

“(Y/N)...” 

It takes you a moment to identify the voice between the shock and fear, but all at once, your uneasiness shifts to concern. 

“D… Dahyun!?” 

After moving your light for a better view, you discover the female wolf slumped against a tree and covered head to toe in what seems to be a combination of blood and sticky mud. Her clothes are practically stained crimson, which you quickly realize is the result of the large jagged rock protruding from her abdomen. 

“Holy shit… What happened to you?” You drop to her level to better assess her condition. There are more wounds embedded across her arms and chest—wounds that resemble claw marks…  

“It was Changbin…” Your heart practically plummets to your stomach at her revelation. Dahyun pauses to cough—a couple projectiles of blood spewing from her lips—before continuing, “He attacked the pack… but he—he was different… Super strong and super fast and—and… It’s almost like he was—”

“Upgraded.” You finish, “Minho transformed Changbin into a weapon to kill Jaebeom and Jinyoung—the same spell Mark tried to use on Jackson.” 

“It was more than that, (Y/N)...” She shakes her head, “Changbin wasn’t… wasn’t like himself…” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He was a monster…” You allow the wolf to grab your hand, ignoring the sticky feel of her blood against your skin. “I don’t—I don’t even know if anyone else is still alive… I don’t—I mean, I can’t—” 

“Shhh.” You hum gently, reaching up to push away the hair melded to her sweaty forehead. Dahyun somewhat calms at your touch, but just from the wild expression along her features, you can tell the poor girl is scared out of her fucking mind. 

“We’ll deal with that later, but right now, I need to get you out of here—”

You don’t have the chance to finish your sentence before she’s practically lurching away from you. 

“No! You’re the one who needs to leave!” 

“Dahyun—”

“He will kill you, (Y/N)!” She hiccups, “You need to run before he finds you!”

“I’m not just going to leave you here to bleed out—”

“She’s right.” You whirl around at the new voice, and to your surprise, discover a disheveled Yugyeom emerging from the darkness. Similar to the female wolf, gaping claw-marks decorate his face, chest and lower abdomen. His arm also seems to be broken and his knee badly dislocated—you can almost see the bone peeking out of his skin. 

You hurry to catch the wolf before he collapses, carefully lowering him to lean against the same tree Dahyun is propped against. A pained wheeze passes his lips, but his expression remains as stoic and as determined as ever. 

“If you care about your life, then you’ll run.” 

“And if I care about yours and Dahyun’s lives?” 

“We’re already as good as dead.” 

“No—” You shake your head feverishly, “—I refuse to let you throw yourself to the big bad wolf like some fucking martyr, so you either start moving or I’ll drag you by the skin of your teeth.” 

Yugyeom’s expression softens. “You sound like Jackson-hyung…”

If it were any other situation, you would have allowed yourself the time to respond to the newcomer’s comparison… but you’d rather not stay and risk the chance of encountering any more surprises. 

“C’mon.” You carefully throw Dahyun’s arm over your shoulder, mindful not to push the rock deeper into her abdomen. Once you’re sure she won’t buckle back to the forest floor, you offer your free hand to the third party. “None of us are dying tonight.” 

A familiar, malicious chuckle has your limbs growing numb.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Like a creature of the night, a smirking Changbin saunters into view. His clothes are torn and tarnished with blood, yet there’s no trace of injury along his skin. With the little light you have, you can just barely make out the black veins decorating underneath his eyes—the magic is already starting to consume him. 

“Listen to me…” You murmur cautiously, maneuvering your body so Dahyun is safe behind and out of reach. “You’re under the effects of dark magic, okay? You’re not yourself—” 

“I’ve never felt more like myself than I have now.” Your eyes dart around the area as Changbin leers closer and closer, attempting to find something sharp or heavy enough to knock him out. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any tea mugs or large branches in sight—

“I don’t want to hurt you, Changbin…”

“Really? Cause I sure want to hurt you…” He smiles devishly,  “In fact, I’m just dying to rip out your fucking throat after that bullshit stunt you pulled back at the manor—” 

“Leave her out of this, Bin.” Yugyeom hisses, clutching his chest while keeping himself supported against the tree. “If you have a problem, then take it out on me… Not her.” 

“Oh, don’t worry… I’ll get to you next, hyung.” Changbin suddenly approaches, providing you no preparation as he snatches your wrist and pulls. With the little strength she has left, Dahyun attempts to defend you, landing a couple heavy hits against the attacker’s head. However, it only takes a good shove to send her flying to the ground—leaving you helpless in the arms of the beast. 

You try to throw your own punches, but Changbin is both stronger and faster by miles. In the blink of an eye, he has your figure pinned to the ground with a calloused hand around your throat. Your lungs immediately go into a frenzy as the superwolf cuts off your oxygen supply. You claw at his fingers, breaking skin and fighting for breath, but his grip remains as firm as steel.

“…Think of…” You choke—your eyes beginning to roll to the back of your head.  “…J-Jack…son…” 

“What the fuck did you say—!?” 

A loud bang erupts through the area, drowning out Changbin’s demand. Through the dark spots of your vision, you notice a gaping hole in the center of his throat. Another bang sounds, and this time, his head is blown to shreds of brain matter and skull. His grip immediately loosens, permitting your intake of oxygen once more. You quickly scramble away from the now unmoving corpse, gasping for air and clutching your swollen neck. 

You’re almost glad it’s dark, so you can’t see the extent to which Changbin’s head had been mutilated. 

Your ears are still vibrating when someone takes your shoulders.

“Jinyoung…?” 

“Are you hurt?”

“No—no… I’m fine.” You allow the vampire to help you back to your feet. “Is… he?” 

“For now.” Jinyoung hums, leading you into a nearby circle of light. To your surprise, you discover Mark carrying Dahyun with one arm and supporting Yugyeom with the other—a large shotgun splayed along his back. “Mark is a remarkable shot… I don’t think you wish to see, but Changbin won’t be bothering us for at least a couple hours.” 

You release a sigh of relief. “Great… But now what?” 

“Yugyeom says the rest of the pack is holed up in a secret bunker deeper into the forest.” Mark speaks for the first time, “We should head there… We all need to talk.” 

“There’s no time like the present.” Jaebeom pipes up, emerging from the shadows with an unconscious Tzuyu in his arms. “I don’t know about you guys, but I really don’t want to be here when this guy wakes up…”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jackson is floating, aimlessly traveling through a white fog in which reality doesn’t quite reach. The Other Side is funny like that—Jackson doesn’t exist in the eyes of nature, therefore, when he’s not visiting the land of the living, he’s merely suspended in a state of nonexistence with nothing but the company of his own thoughts. He’ll spot the spirit of a fellow supernatural every so often, but even then… he’s completely alone. 

Until he found you. 

A wave of fondness spreads through Jackson’s veins—as if he had drunk a comforting cup of hot tea. In all the time he’s spent in the neverending nothingness, he never once thought he’d be able to feel again… but like a firework in the black of night, you sparked every bit of hope and passion and liveliness lingering within his mortal spirit. Maybe it was your determination that reminded him of his past self, or maybe it was your eyes—so bright with the stars of mortality—that made Jackson want to live again, to experience the warmth of your smile and the chill of your gaze in the depths of a true beating heart. 

Something about you just makes him feel so… human. 

Jackson snickers to himself before peering over his shoulder, having previously noticed some kind of blurred silhouette in the distance. It’s too far to tell, but he can just barely make out the approaching shape of another spirit—likely a newly deceased supernatural. He prepares to retire back to his thoughts, but is, however, interrupted when an ice-cold feeling overtakes the entirety of his being. Jackson freezes, both from the cold and his realization: 

The witches know about his plan… and they’re not happy about it. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“—so once Youngjae siphons Minho’s power, he’ll be able to reverse the spell and turn Changbin back to normal.” Jaebeom keeps his focus on the witch as he relays his explanation to the many other audience members scattered around the bunker. He never thought the day would come where he would actually be working in tandem with Mark Tuan, the motherfucking magician himself, but here he is—

“What if Youngjae can’t perform the spell in time?” The pack’s beta, Yugyeom speaks up from his seat at a small, cardboard table stationed in the tiny kitchenette. He stretches his newly healed knee out in front of him before sparing Mark an inquisitive glance, “What happens then?” 

“Minho’s power is the only anchor keeping Changbin alive, most of which he's drawing from the eclipse. Once that power runs out, then Changbin’s form will give out, which means—” 

“He’ll die.” Dahyun finishes, pacing from one end of the underground shelter to the other. If it weren’t for the blood stains on her clothing and the large bandage encompassing her exposed abdomen, it would be impossible to tell she had been stabbed only minutes ago.

Being a werewolf certainly does pay off. 

Mark nods, “Yes.”  

“How long do we have then? Roughly?”

“‘Til the moon goes down, so about an hour and a half. Two hours at the most.”

“Shit.” She curses, “We’re so fucking screwed.”

“Let’s not jump to the worst of all evils so quickly.” Jaebeom fights the urge to roll his eyes as his brother, always the hero, appears from the next room before assuming his perch beside your sitting figure. He hands you an ice pack while still speaking to Mark, “You’re certain Youngjae will have enough strength to disarm the witch?” 

“Not really, but it’s the only option at this point.” 

“While this pathetic excuse of a plan is super great and all, there’s still a pretty big fucking elephant in the room.” Ignoring the harsh glare the witch sends his way, Jaebeom continues, “There’s a cure for werewolf wonder’s bite, right? Some sort of witchy antidote or spell—?”

“As sorry as I am for your vampire girlfriend, I never thought of a cure when I designed the spell.” Mark’s eyes flash with something akin to resentment, spilling amusement through Jaebeom’s veins like a toxin. “When I want something—someone dead, I want them to stay dead.” 

Jaebeom snorts. “Still the same punk ass kid you’ve always been, Tuan… It’s nice to see that nothing’s changed.” 

“You’re a fucking prick—” 

“Mark-hyung. Don’t.” Yugyeom places a calming hand on Mark’s shoulder, stopping him from storming over to where Jaebeom is currently smirking like a fool. The wolf glances at the latter before shaking his head, “We have bigger things than petty rivalries to worry about.”

To Jaebeom’s disappointment, Mark agrees with a sigh. 

“Right… It’s just been a real shitty night.” 

“For all of us, it’s safe to say.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the warning look his brother sends his way, shaking his head scoldingly before turning to the witch-werewolf pair. “Could Changbin’s blood possibly reverse the venom’s effects? Similar to Jaebeom?” 

Mark shakes his head, “Changbin isn’t a hybrid like your asshole of a brother. His blood has no healing properties whatsoever—”

“But there has to be something.” Your voice immediately cuts the former off, allowing Jaebeom some time to suppress the urge to fly across the room and tear the witch’s tongue from his mouth. “Youngjae once told me that magic always has a loophole, so a cure has to exist—we just have to figure out what it is.” 

“I admire your positivity, little dove, but we don’t exactly have the time for trial and error.” Jaebeom peers over his shoulder at a sleeping Tzuyu—who is still showing no signs of possible consciousness or life in general. Her skin is flushed and sweaty with fever, but he can sense how her limbs tremble beneath the poison coursing through her veins. His chest tightens for a moment, only until he returns his focus back onto the conversation at hand: 

“Minho might have an idea, but it’s a long shot.” Mark exhales, “Once we take him down, there’s no guarantee he’d tell us—if there is a cure, that is—and with the combined effects of your and Changbin’s venom, I have no clue how long your girlfriend has until—” 

A sudden clatter has everyone leaping from their seats. Yugyeom flies to the bunker door in mere seconds while Mark snatches his shotgun from the kitchen counter behind him. Through the corner of his eye, Jaebeom notices Jinyoung usher you behind his form before pressing a small pocket knife between your fingers. The blossoming of the black bruises along your throat sparks rancor through the hybrid’s veins, and he readies himself into his own fighting stance. 

“Yugyeom!?... Are you in there!?” 

Yugyeom’s hostile expression transitions into one of relief—the tension melting from his body like snow. Although the voice is apparently familiar to the rest, Jaebeom remains tense as the beta goes about unlocking the bunker door. He almost expects a cackling Changbin to come bursting through the trapdoor, but is pleasantly surprised when a new figure comes into view—another limp body thrown precariously over his shoulder. 

“Oh my god! Chan—Felix!” Dahyun immediately rushes toward the pair. Her gaze practically alive with fear. “Holy shit—is he alive!?”

The newcomer, who Jaebeom assumes to be Chan, sets down the teenager, presumably Felix, on one of the bunk beds with the help of Yugyeom and Mark. He catches Jinyoung helping a third figure, a teenage girl who can’t be over eighteen, into the bunker as well. Judging by her glassy irises and quivering lips, she seems as if she is going to burst into tears at the drop of a thimble. The group’s collective ragged appearance, Jaebeom knows, signifies the aftermath of one hell of a fight. 

“What the hell happened out there, Chan!?” Yugyeom’s demand awakens the hybrid from his trance, forcing him to return his focus to the newcomer. 

“H-He found us…” Chan murmurs darkly, “I… I tried to protect them… but he was too strong…” 

“How is that possible?” Jaebeom frowns. “Sabrina the Witch over here blew his fucking head off—” 

“They had to have been attacked before then.” Jinyoung places a calming hand on his shoulder, which he is quick to shake off. 

The strange werewolf nods in agreement, “We took our time to get here—didn’t want to risk running into him again…” 

“Wait…” The room grows hushed at Dahyun’s exclamation. When Jaebeom turns toward the female wolf, his annoyance falters at the panicked expression etched along her pretty features. “Where the hell is Chaeyoung…?” 

Chan remains silent and still, like a boy fresh out of war, but Jaebeom has witnessed enough in his many lifetimes to see the answer written all along his face. 

Yugyeom stands. His expression grim, almost sorrowful, as if he already knows too. 

“Bang Chan… Where is Chaeyoung?” 

“…she’s dead…” His whisper is barely audible, yet the hybrid can see how deeply those two words wound the crowd around him. “…bled out… there was nothing I could do…”   

“Fuck…” Dahyun shivers before burying her face into her palms and letting out an even louder curse, “Fuck!...”

“I’m so sorry…” 

Your soft voice carries over the female wolf’s sobs. Fascinated, Jaebeom watches as you maneuver your way across the bunker to kneel in front of a now sitting Bang Chan. You take his trembling hands between your own and peer up at the wolf with the most sympathetic gaze he has ever seen—his own heart can’t help but lurch at the sight. 

“I hate to add to the list, but we have another issue—” Mark groans, pulling his hand away from the incapacitated teenager’s neck to press it against his own perspirating forehead. “—Felix was bitten…” 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” 

“Dahyun—please.” Yugyeom sighs, “I just—shit.” 

“We need to find that cure. Now.” Jinyoung steps forward, turning to speak directly to Mark. “I will go to the graveyard to assist your coven. With my help, it should be fairly simple to disarm the rogue.” 

“Don’t underestimate him. You’re still gonna have to put up a damn good fight.” 

“I can well manage on my own.” 

Jaebeom shakes his head with a sneer, “I seriously doubt that, considering you got yourself poisoned the last time you played goddamn Superman.” 

As much as Jinyoung puts up the invincible front, Jaebeom has known his brother for a long, long time—and also knows that the previous encounter with the superwolf left him much weaker than before. He can see it in the trembling of his hands and the pained lines etched along his forehead. He’ll get himself killed long before he reaches the graveyard. 

“Jaebeom should go too.” You rise from your kneeling position to join the group. “Two pairs of hands are better than one. You can protect each other.” 

“Absolutely not.” Jinyoung disagrees, “Jaebeom needs to remain here in case Changbin resurrects again.” 

“We don’t have the time to worry about that. The witches will need all the help they can get.” 

Jaebeom scoffs, “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but (Y/N) is right. We don’t know what we’re up against—better for us both to be there than just the one.”

Jinyoung stares at Jaebeom for a brief moment, as if searching his face for some hidden secret, before inhaling a deep, yet silent breath and finally nodding, “Fine. But if Changbin attacks—”

“We’ll handle it.” Yugyeom nods, “Thank you… for doing this.” 

“We all have something to lose.” Jaebeom doesn’t miss the glance Jinyoung sends in your direction before making his way over to the bunker exit. “I just wish to make sure that no one else dies.” The last bout of final farewells are shared along with the reminder for everyone to remain on their best guard. In an attempt to follow his brother, Jaebeom moves to climb the ladder, but is stopped by the call of his name: 

“Jaebeom, wait!...” He pauses—his interest piquing as you rush toward his temporary perch. Your gaze is shy, he notices, but still contains the fire of a thousand burning suns. “Just… be careful out there, okay?” 

His response is indifferent. “Not to worry, little dove. I’ll make sure Jinyoung returns to you in one piece.” 

“Promise me you both will return in one piece, please…” 

Jaebeom’s annoyance immediately dissipates at the stressed enunciation of your words. His cold expression melts into a mixture of surprise and astonishment, mirroring the conflict brewing throughout his chest. He clears his throat, attempting to expel the emotions creeping up his back, before nodding: 

“Y-Yeah, sure.” He gulps, “Can you… take care of Tzuyu? While I’m gone?” 

Your gaze softens. “Of course. Just please stay alive.” 

Jaebeom doesn’t respond, untrusting that his words will make sense if said aloud. After providing you a silent farewell, he climbs the rest of the way out of the bunker where Jinyoung is waiting. His brother offers a pointed glance when he completely exits the safety of the bunker.  

“I trust you’re ready for this, hyung?” 

“Let’s get this shit over with.” Jaebeom rolls his eyes, “I’m getting real tired of running from Teenage Chewbacca.” 

[theflashdriver]

Silvaze Pirate AU: Present or Plunder

I’ve had this for a while, I always thought Silvers powers would be capable of creating a great ghost ship. I hope you enjoy!

"Your majesty, are you certain this is the best course of action?" Gardon, an elderly Koala who served as the royal retainer, whispered to his young ruler. "Forgive my saying this seems a little… blunt? A little too direct perhaps, would you disagree?"

Blaze the cat, the sole monarch of Sol, stood at the bow of a warship; eyes locked on a horizon obscured by mist. Eight of her ships and, if reports were to be believed, countless pirate vessels had undergone a plundering described by many supernatural. Due east of Southern Isle, a few miles from the common trade route, was an area prone to thick fog yet strong winds. When the wind was right merchant ships, desperate to meet deadlines, often took this sub-route in hopes of making up for lost time. No one had been injured, the ships went undamaged, but whenever her vessels had entered the fog an ultimatum allegedly sounded. It was best described as a demand for tribute, the choice to throw their valuables to the depths or have phantasmal light seize them. Regardless of the truth, to steal from vessels bearing her flag was a declaration of war.

"Blunt as it may be, they only attack singular ships; we cannot bring our naval might. I want to put an end to this nonsense as quickly as possible. I'll prove this is a pirate front, apprehend the perpetrators and drag them home for trial." She'd spoken plainly, focused on the task at hand rather than formality, as was often the case.

"Of course your highness, forgive me." The old man lowered his head, regalia jangling as he bowed. "You know I worry."

"I'm aware, though, regardless of the reason for this venture," Blaze spared him a glance, the faintest outline of a smile graced her lips, "It is nice to be outside castle grounds. Especially on less serious business." Though Gardon was Blaze's most trusted advisor he'd practically raised her and that, naturally, came with some baggage. He was the closest she had to a parent, she the closest he had to a daughter and yet she was his ruler. "Do drop the titles, while we're out here at least."

He sighed, resuming his usual high shouldered and stiff posture. "If you insist. Shouldn't be long till we breach the fog, are you prepared?"

Free of her kingdom the feline had shed her royal garb and a far more comfortable outfit had taken its place. A purple long coat, adorned with silver buttons bearing the royal insignia, obscured a white dress shirt. A pair of cavalier boots protected her feet while matching black tights shielded her legs. For fighting her foes, two swords hung at Blaze's waist. They were simple sabres, designed for duelling rather than combat, but her aim was always to subjugate rather than kill. She could, of course, rely upon the curse that ran in her blood but that came with repercussions. If those pirates came to trial branded the news would travel far and fast, dissuading other pirates but terrifying her people. They wanted a princess who'd rule them justly, not some demon sat on the throne.

"I won't know until I face them, will I?" As she spoke, turning fully to Gardon, she found his form faintly obscured. Despite her efforts, the fog had crept up on them. "Ideally this vessel serves as my transport but, if I fail, it's armed for a reason. Have the crew ready themselves, the so-called ghost ship should soon be upon us."

With less than a second's hesitation, the koala turned and began to roar orders in a voice the stark opposite that prior. Blaze heard footsteps pound across the deck and the sounds of heavy canons being rolled into place, all the while her gaze was fixed ahead; awaiting whatever form dared emerge from it. Her fur bristled against the salty wind, ears flickering as she tried to identify any shapes in the fog or hear something besides the crashing of waves.

She folded her arms, brow furrowing at her wasted effort, and turned to the stern of the ship. Despite the mist's attempt to obscure them, she saw men and women stood ready; twenty individuals discounting herself and Gardon. No lives had been taken in prior raids, but had these pirates faced such adversity? Twenty-one soldiers, each prepared to die for their princess, but ultimately; they were twenty-one lives she sought to protect. She'd trained since she could walk but it'd been months since she last truly fought and her presence alone likely wouldn't dissuade her foes, not without some show of power. Perhaps unleashing her curse would be enough; showing those pirates something truly supernatu-

Blaze lurched backwards, the wind had dropped from the sails… no, it was more than that. She cast her eyes up to them only to find they'd fully furled, the ropes that once held them were swaying as if caught in a gale; floating beyond the reach of her crew. Waves broke against the hull of the ship and yet it refused to rock. Before she could turn, Blaze sighted her shadow cast in eerie light; a pulsing blue glow that stretched her shade to its utmost lengths before returning it to its regular shape. Hands at her sword hilts Blaze spun on her heel, jaw shut tight as she steadied herself through bewilderment. The white miasma had been cast cyan; ghostly light shone from her own ship's hull as though it had been slathered in ectoplasm. But that couldn't be the case; it had to be some trick! She racked her mind; it had to be some weather phenomena or a trick of the lig-

"Present or Plunder?" The ultimatum was dealt, a booming voice echoed from the fog. But it was no ghostly moan nor haunting shriek, it was the voice of a regular person. This had to be a trick; it simply had to be!

Flinching at her own hesitation the princess turned back, drawing her swords lest the fool could see her. "You are no privateer! What right do you have to plunder? Pirates shall be punished to the full extent of the law! Surrender lest I drag you from your ship, repent and your lives will be spare!"

Silence swept over the sea, the wind did not whistle and her crew refused to move. Blaze knew she had chosen her words well, her voice was known throughout the land and, furthermore, she had given clear warning. No sailor, on their ship or hers, could claim she hadn't been merciful; other countries would have fired into the fog without hesitation.

The pirate's response was clear. "You have chosen Plunder. Your goods are forfeit. Cast your treasures into the depths or I will take them myself."

"Ready the cannons!" With her word Blaze drew her cutlasses, amber eyes sharpened in an attempt to cut through the fog. Unable to see, she shouted again. "You face the crown! Without surrender, there will be no mercy!"

As her first demand hadn't been met, Blaze doubted her opponent would reconsider but that shout was more intended to bolster her crew. To those of weaker minds and dispositions, this would seem like the attack of an adult. Whatever phenomena caused this ethereal light would, undoubtedly, cause the disappearance of their belongings; she just had to determine how and why.

Just as she began to ponder it, Blaze felt herself grow lighter; there was a tugging at her fingertips. It took but a moment to react but her grasp tightened as a bizarre blaring noise swept across the ship, it sounded like the moan of an alien whale. An invisible force had grabbed hold of her swords and (tug as she might) was refusing to let go; the pirates were trying to steal her swords from her very grasp. Digging in her heels, the feline's fangs came to bear. There was a scream behind her, she heard someone cry the word ghost, her bolstering had been for nought; she had to help them!

Irritated but unwilling to part with her swords, her curse bubbled to the surface; blistering flame were leaking from the mark on her back. Soon fire danced across her shoulders and wove its way along her arms, quickly arriving at her hands. With a roar and a final heave, those flames shot up her sword and tore away whatever had grasped them; allowing the princess to quickly return the blades to their sheathes and lock them in place. Despite having learned from this interaction, she was still puzzled. There was no hand grasping at her blades, yet they had been pulled away from her. Perhaps it was a bizarre magnetic phenomenon? If utilised correctly, that could explain her sabres being taken… but then why wasn't the metal on her clothes reacting and why had her flames-

Above the clamour Blaze heard Gardon yell out; "Your majesty! Come quickly!" But as she turned the feline found the fog had grown thicker still, her crew reduced to dark shapes moving within the cyan tinted clouds.

She dropped from the ship's head, racing across the deck and toward the largest cluster of ship hands. Though her journey was quick, with each and every step new shapes appeared through the miasma. Objects wear tearing themselves from the deck and floating toward the sky. Blaze heard koalas cry out as they were robbed of their swords, she heard the sounds of metal clattering and the deck creaking as it was relieved of strain. Following the elder's shouts, she managed to reach him; only half visible through the miasma.

"There's no gold on the ship so they're taking our weapons!" Gardon cried out, clinging to a koala as they clang to a cannon that was starting to float away.

"I've got it!" Blaze shouted, hardly even thinking as she clambered and swung her way up and atop the canon. Despite their combined mass, the cannon still hung in the air. She'd intended to set both it and herself alight when a thought dawned upon her. "Let go, both of you!"

"Blaze! What are you doing?!" Her elder subordinate yelled.

"Clearly we can't stop them stealing from us, whatever they're doing it's spread too far and they've already claimed too much!" She called back. "But, if they hope to steal our weapons, I'll make sure they get more than they bargained for!"

The koala quickly understood, she watched him open his mouth to shout again only for it to close. His eyes shut tight. "Are you sure about this?"

She wasn't, she was doing this on a whim, but she wasn't going to let that show. Steeling her brow and locking her swords beneath the weapon's barrel, further securing herself to it, she turned from him and gave one last shout. "Of course I am, let go!"

There was a final moment of hesitation, but she felt the canon shift higher into the air. She glanced back to the koalas only to find they'd vanished from view, her ship followed suit as she flew beyond its bow. She could make out other canons as she flew but, beyond that, the shape of their plundered weapons was beyond discerning. They'd travelled light, bringing canons, flintlocks and a few dozen swords. Considering the goods they'd plundered from her fleet alone, this was barely a drop in the bucket. Eventually, the smog started to thin and soon she could see that same eerie light ahead.

The enemy was anchored in the eye of the fog cloud, as she drew closer the clear zone granted her a perfect view of both her stolen goods and the ship. The tales of a ghost ship seemed a magnitude truer as it came into view; the vessel's sails were tattered and its hull was punctured in several places. The same blue light that had plundered her ship seemed to coat this boat's entirety, making it hard to identify the hull's shape; let alone any identifiable markings. What little Blaze could see was jagged and broken; it seemed that little more than the glow and great clumps of barnacles were holding the ship together. Rationally, logically, it shouldn't have been able to float, let alone sail.

But, beyond the state of the ship, something far more confusing caught her eye. Despite its state, beneath the rot and the damage, this ship was so very familiar to her. The sail bore the royal crest, despite the state the sails; Blaze could make out seven emeralds emblazoned upon them. The ship's figurehead was familiar too, a crowned feline with a single outstretched arm (now merely a stump), and even the ship's scale was so very familiar to Blaze. It was damaged, almost beyond the point of recognition, but this ship was so very similar to the one she'd just left. Her ship, her family's ship, the one of a kind ship that'd been constructed almost one hundred years ago; The Sunflower. Whatever trick these thieves were playing, it was getting stranger by the moment.

This bizarreness was compounded as Blaze watched the first of her weapons approach the desk, a swarm of ten or fifteen cutlasses. Before they could make contact with the deck, Blaze watched as the wood panelling cracked and buckled upward to create a wide crevice. The swords flew in without hesitation; over the hum of glowing energy Blaze manage to hear them clatter against something. As more and more equipment vanished into the hole, it became apparent Blaze's cannon would soon do the same. From her position atop the barrel she was free to look down, the hull was half-full with shining objects; among the swords and flintlocks were copper trinkets, necklaces and coinage.

Before the deck could engulf her, only half expecting it'd bear her brunt, Blaze leapt from the canon; landing on the deck, a few metres from the opening. The wood, held in place by that blue light, was secure to stand on; it didn't even creak beneath her. A cursory glance to her surroundings gleamed little more than what she'd already noticed. This ship, despite how damaged it looked, was a mirror of her own. Eventually the last of her ship's weapons vanished into the hull and, like the doors to a cellar, the frayed wooden boards returned to their prior position; the deck had mended itself. Now alone on this supposed ghost ship, Blaze couldn't deny there was an eeriness in the air. The sooner she got to the bottom of this, the sooner she found whoever had made that demand, the better.

As she started to walk, the princess realised she wasn't actually stepping on the deck. The touch of her heel against the floor made a bizarre sparking noise and, despite the boards being uneven and broken, it was as though she was stepping on solid, flat, concrete. The light was creating some kind of barrier between her and the ship, preventing her from touching the decrepit wood beneath. Alike her own when it entered the fog, this ship refused to rock with the tide too; hanging in place, unaffected by the waves. Further adding to the eeriness, the deck was lifeless. Not a single crewmember was present and, search as she might, Blaze could find no signs of daily life. There was no mess; no bags left unattended and no sign of sailors' tools (no spyglasses, no ropes and, most astonishingly, no weapons). Beneath the cyan barrier, the deck looked filthy; no fewer than ten generations of barnacles and limpets lined the hull.

Her denial had started to waver; these supernatural sights were growing too great in number. Loot had flown through the air, this ship was floating despite being decrepit and it seemed to sail without a crew. There was no natural explanation for this; it was either the work of some miraculous gadgetry or the rumours were-

After biting her tongue Blaze screamed out. "What need does a ghost have of weapons and gold? You are no spirit; you are a pirate merely masquerading as the dead to avoid punishment! Show yourself!"

It was not fear but outrage driving her shouts; this farcical ship went against all she had learned. Her family were cursed, powerful yes but feared for their power. Supernatural fire was no plaything, born without a spark or match-strike it was a deadly tool easily mishandled. Regardless of how this power was achieved, its wielder was abusing what she'd been forced to hide. The strong were meant to act sparingly, do what had to be done and no more. If there was a supernatural presence piloting this ship, they were using such power to satiate their greed. It was a misuse of power, a misuse so flagrant it brought Blaze's blood to boil.

"If you will not show yourself willingly, I will force you out!" She drew her swords, igniting the right blade's tip. "Failure to heed my words will result in the immolation of your ship, its plunder included!"

Regardless of who manned this ship, they failed to heed her final warning. With the flick of her wrist, the fire leapt from her blade to the floor, sizzling away at the cyan aura before setting the wood itself alight. Despite her training, she felt her fingers clench around her swords' hilts as she waited for a reaction.

She didn't have to wait for long; her ears flickered as the wood began to buckle behind her. Without hesitation she threw herself forward, leaping toward the mast and turning to face what she anticipated to be a gnashing maw of wood. Instead, the hole remained small; just big enough for her to fall through. Unsettling silence continued to rule, a glance to the deck found her flames were spreading very slowly. The coating on the wood was impeding their propagation.

Her eyes raced back to the hole only to find it sealed, hovering roughly a foot from the deck was a form shrouded in brown burlap. Chains hung from their wrists and the bottom of their tattered cloak, their face was obscured by the shadow of their hood and cyan light flared from a pair of billowing sleeves. This figure had all the trappings of a ghost; there was no denying that.

The whole ship seemed to shake as they spoke, the surrounding light flared wildly. "You chose plunder and thus your ship was plundered. Leave this ship with a lesson learned, provide me with a gift and your vessel will go untouched. Share this lesson, lest others share your fate."

The feline pointed her swords at this so-called ghost. "You have stolen from my people just as you have stolen from me, those goods are not yours to keep! You have committed piracy and will be sentenced as a pirate, continued resistance will worsen your charge."

The figure seemed to take pause at her resistance. Though their head was obscured and their clothes were billowy, their body language spoke volumes to Blaze. They were floating no higher than a foot from the ground. This being was looking down on her, just as it had talked down to her, and acting as though she was at fault. Acting as though her intrusion on this ship, a ship modelled after her own, was more boorish than his continuous theft.

"If you will not leave willingly, you will be forced to leave," As if to emphasise their point, the figure closed their right fist. Out of the corner of her eye, Blaze watched as ghostly aura smothered her burgeoning flame. "This is your final warning."

"And I have warned you, several times; surrender or I will show you no mercy!" The princess growled back, grip further tightening on her blade's hilts. "You will not hear me submit!"

Again, the figure fell silent. Blaze swore that, beneath his heavy robes, she saw a set of yellow eyes blink and dart around. They weren't attacking her, not yet at least, but they certainly weren't surrendering. The so-called ghost hung there, hands flaring with a light brighter than that on the ship. The longer they hung, stationary in the air, the angrier Blaze found herself growing. It was all so stereotypical; the light, the robes, the chains and even the obscured face. Though she couldn't explain her surroundings, not rationally at least, she half believed the form to be some kind of marionette; a puppet being manipulated by crafty pirates. She didn't dare break her gaze from them but she knew that the crow's nest was overhead, the angle was strange but it didn't seem impossible.

Regardless of what they were, Blaze was at her wit's end. If they would not surrender by choice then there was no alternative. With a hiss behind her breath, Blaze gave up negotiating. "So be it, I'll take you in by force."

The princess began her approach, swords unlit but raised to strike. The puppet shifted slightly in the air, backing away from her. Knowing it'd be a mistake to let him flee, let alone strike first, the feline pounced with both blades drawn over her shoulders. Her attack was successful, her blunted swords had smashed against his shoulder, but it was as though she'd struck stone rather than flesh. Cyan sparks flew from the point of impact as their form was sent careening towards the deck, Blaze thought she'd secured a clean hit but the ground reacted; swallowing them whole and resealing before she could even land.

Alone on the deck again, Blaze tried to corral her frustration. Taking her right blade, Blaze swung it where the hole had formed. Her weapon caught no strings and a glance to the crow's nest revealed no opponents, the robed figured wasn't a puppet.

It wasn't long before the silence was broken; the sound of splintering wood filled her ears. She spun on her heel only to find the figure hadn't remerged. Five planks had sprung from the deck and were rocketing toward her. She managed to knock the first two away but the third shifted mid-flight, it came at her long ways and struck her in the gut but the initial impact wasn't the problem. The plank kept moving, its considerable speed was pushing her back and keeping her feet from the ground; it was attempting to throw her from the ship!

A snarl slipped her throat; flames exploded from her back and quickly chased along her arms. Orange sparks spat and fought with cyan, crackling and exploding before one gave way; her flames ignited the wood. Her heels found the ground, the beam crumbled into ash as the fire consumed both it and the cyan light that held it together.

Before she could understand what she'd done, the remaining two boards were racing toward her; crossed over each other in to create an X. Without so much as a thought, Blaze thrust her right sword forward; her curse rushed across her body and from the weapon's end, flying toward the cross as a bolt of red flame.

The contact was bright and explosive. As she squinted to see, Blaze had prepared her offhand to strike away whatever remained but when the light cleared, only dust and splinters reached her. The wood had been liberated from the cyan hue and either crumbled or burned, too dilapidated to maintain its form.

Again, before she could consider what she'd done, Blaze heard the whir of electric wind and the buckling of wood. Regaining her bearings, she found herself on the starboard bow; only a few metres from the deck's edge. Unable to locate the crackling's source (nor the figure), Blaze started to stalk across the deck; heading towards the mast. She attempted to move quietly, assuming if that person was relying on sound rather than sight, and prepared to ignite at the first sign of movement.

She managed twelve paces before the wood creaked beneath her. Blaze ignited, casting her amber gaze across the deck, but she still couldn't sight her opponent. She quickly shifted the fire to her weapons; cloaking them in orange heat, before taking another, hesitant, step forward. The ship was still wrapped in cyan light, nothing had changed, but she knew her opponent was out there. It was time for a shift, it was time to swap from defence to offence.

Blaze swung her weapons forward and the fire flew from them again, two burning bolts raced from the metal and detonated upon contact with the ship's sail. The thin material was a far better conductor of flame; the fabric began to rapidly ignite. Almost immediately she heard the deck stir but again, glancing to her surroundings, she couldn't locate the figure. By the time her gaze returned to the sail the fire had been extinguished but a large black hole had formed near its centre; her crest had been removed.

Flames were just beginning to engulf her blades when she heard the loudest shifting of wood yet, a cacophonous splintering that was easy to locate. She looked at the peak of the mast and saw the hooded figure, but she didn't have time to focus on them.

The crow's nest had been torn off and broken into pieces, a hail of glowing wood was tumbling towards the deck. There was no time to move, the mass was too great and spread too widely! She engulfed her blades and dug in her heels, bracing for impact rather than even attempting to flee. As rubble came down she slashed with all her might, batting away and atomising a good portion. But the wood came in waves, by the time she'd deflected one the second was upon her. Rubble struck her from all angles, glancing off her shoulders and back. It hurt less than she'd anticipated, the rot had lightened the wood, but the damage wasn't insignificant; the figure's psychic grasp was reinforcing the wood.

As she attempted to rise from her buckled position, Blaze felt her swords slip free from her grasp and clatter across the ground. The electric humming had grown louder again, chains were dangling at the edge of her vision. Despite losing her weapons, Blaze attempted to pounce only for a bizarre feeling to engulf her midsection. Then it spread to her legs, then it spread to her upper body and, before she could react, the guardian was entirely engulfed. Cyan light had fully surrounded her; she couldn't move and she couldn't see but she could breathe.

Surrounded by the light, having watched the figure conjure it, she could no longer act as though it was a natural phenomenon. It didn't feel like she was being crushed, the hold itself was painless, but Blaze knew how dire her position was. This was a power like hers; this was a curse. At best; she was going to be flung back to her ship, at worst; she'd been taken hostage. But, just as she believed hope was fading, a thought dawned upon her.

"I gave you warnings, I asked you to leave. Don't make me force you, I don't want to hurt you." The light obscured their form, but Blaze could make out their outline. The figure was so close. "Remain still and I will return you to your ship, unharmed. Resist and I'll be forced to fight, I don't want to fight you!"

But Blaze wasn't listening to the figure's further ultimatums; she'd come up with a plan. She was preparing to strike. The feline was pooling heat near the small of her back. The cyan light could muffle her flames but, equally, her flames could burn away the light. There was air in here; if she could breathe then she could burn. Whatever this ghostly power was, Blaze knew she could fight it. It meant relying on the power she hated, but it was the only way.

The flames exploded from her back and ignited the light surrounding her, it spat and exploded as her own orange flames came to engulf her entire body. Soon she was totally free from their psychic grasp, she landed on her feet. Looking up at the figure, she caught sight of their face in the light of her flames. He had yellow eyes and, by the state of his muzzle, he was incredibly gaunt; beyond that, she couldn't make out much.

His ghastly light would mute her burning and, as long as she kept control, she wouldn't end up scaring him. This was an opponent she could fight fairly, an opponent she could fight without holding back. Leaping from the deck, Blaze ignited her fists. She didn't speak, she hardly even thought, for this was the time to strike. She lunged up at him, her flames battered against his cyan hue, but this time Blaze struck true; she felt her knuckle contact his chest. The floating man doubled over at that contact, their body was pulled upward and beyond her reach, but that fine. Blaze had hit him once; she knew she could hit him again.

The figure thrust his right hand towards her and, for a moment, Blaze felt the light's pressure on her shoulders. She reignited without hesitation, rending the light from her body and showing him that his method wouldn't work. He had three choices; tear apart this ship fighting her, fight her on his own or give up fighting.

Light flared around her, the debris from the crow's nest began to hover. He'd chosen option one.

Blaze immolated herself, she allowed fire to fully engulf her body and obscure her vision. Her curse's cracking filled her ears, overwhelming the psychic hum. She felt the wood touch her body but the impact was reduced further still, the rotten wood was being ignited and disintegrated before it could even touch her. When the impacts finally ceased and she subdued her flames enough to see, Blaze was alone on the deck. She scanned the sky, he'd vanished again but she knew how to draw him out.

Channelling the fire that garbed her, Blaze formed a fireball more than a foot in diameter. She launched the orb towards the mast but, as it made contact, the fireball detonated and spread; smaller fires split off to surround the smoking central pillar. She watched the inferno swell and spread, slowly creeping across the deck and leaving gashes in its wake. The ship had already been in poor condition, incapable of sailing was it not for the energy engulfing it, but their battle had more thoroughly destroyed it. Psychic energy had glazed over the holes and perhaps made them safe to walk over, but the ship was twice the wreck it'd once been.

The deck creaked, her flames were snuffed and Blaze sighted the so-called ghost in the corner of her vision. She spun and threw an open fist, a smaller fireball shot free of her palm and exploded against his glowing body. "If you don't want to fight, then surrender!"

The figure was sent tumbling backwards, only managing to stabilise himself by dragging his feet along the ground. Blaze bolted after him; not only had he landed, the light had faded from his form! Only his hands were glowing! Blaze pounced at her opportunity, tackling him to the deck and pushing her hands against his collarbone. She'd won! The pirate was within her grasp!

His hood fell as she pinned him, revealing a tangled mess of overgrown quills. Amber eyes met bright yellow before they scanned the rest of his face. Bones were visible through his skin and, were it not for his panting, she would half-believe that he was a corpse. Black bags hung beneath his eyes, as though he'd gone weeks without sleep, and she saw neither resistance nor fear in his eyes. Instead, she couldn't help thinking that he looked regretful.

The moment Blaze caught her breath; she began the interrogation. "Speak your name."

Those eyes shut tight; she felt him tense once more before again flopping loosely in her grasp, seeming to concede to her. She knew better than to trust him though. "M-My name is Silver," That name matched no pirate she knew; his appearance was entirely alien to her too.

"Do you know my name?" She rhetorically asked. "Do you understand the weight of your crimes?"

"I-I understand what I've done but... I know you are a royal, I-I just don't know which one," He bafflingly admitted. "What year is it?"

Her brow hardened further, her pulse was pounding and adrenaline was racing through her. "Do you take me for a fool?"

"I don't, I'm telling you the truth!" Blaze leant on him a little harder, even if he looked near death he clearly had the strength to shout. In response, he quietened down but his stutter returned. "I know th-that seems stupid but I really don't know! I know this is the sea of Sol, I know we're the 'Merchant's Tunnel' and your ship is called The Sunflower, its been part of your family for generations, but I really don't know what year it is and I'm not sure who you are."

Maintaining her tight grip, Blaze posed an alternate question, "If you profess not to know my name yet know my lineage then answer me this; who do you think I am?"

"Maybe Percival the Eleventh…?" He answered, before quickly hazarding another guess. "Although, judging by your canons, you might be the Twelfth…?"

Confusion, aided by curiosity, forcibly undercut her ferocity. He looked no older than her, despite his tired and sickly state, and yet he had mistaken her for her elder relatives. She felt her adrenaline begin to abate. "Percival was my grandmother's name and my mother's name but it is not mine."

"W-Wait, y-you're Blaze?" He hadn't called her your majesty, everyone referred to her by royal titles yet he had failed to both upon first addressing her and now; having identified her. Against her better judgement, her grip on his burlap slacked. "If you're Blaze then it's almost too late! I-I thought I was at least half a century earlier!"

Feeling him begin to panic, slipping loose of her grasp, Blaze quickly realised her folly. She pressed further down on him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the entirety of her thin frame pushed to pin him. "I said not to move!"

Pain broke across his brow, his eyes shut again. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I-I-I…" He froze up, a brief silence followed his stutter. When he reopened his eyes the beginnings of tears had formed. "There's a lot I can tell you, but I don't think you'll believe me."

Blaze felt something in her chest (some hint of compassion perhaps) but, being her royal self, she knew to quash it. She distracted herself by further taking in his person, difficult as that was at such close proximity. The longer she stared the thinner and more ragged he appeared; she'd never seen anyone quite like him. Few citizens lived poorly in her kingdom, fewer still that she saw first hand, but he bordered on being malnourished. Hedgehogs were rare in the kingdom too, but the layout of his quills was simply bizarre and perhaps a result his overgrowth. His physical body was intriguing but not as intriguing as his curse. Though the light had weakened around the ship it still brightly flickered from his palms. Upon closer inspection, seeing how the light refracted through his mucky gloves, she determined those circular marks dyed his flesh rather than his gloves or fur. Somehow, a curse had affixed itself to him.

She waited a few moments longer before resuming, allowing them both some respite. "Where did you steal this power from?" She noticed her voice was sapped of its commanding venom. "Abilities like ours aren't meant for mortals, what foolish occult pact did you make?"

"M-My blessing? I've always had it," Silver claimed. "I've been psychic for as long as I can remember, I-I guess I just got lucky, like you did?"

"Like I di-

She hadn't dared to think of her curse as a blessing, let alone say it. No one ever had, not even Gardon. While in some ways his words made sense, her power kept her kingdom protected, but fear of it separated her from the masses. Still, though her brow furrowed further, that feeling in her chest grew, glowing kindling of compassion. At the very least, he wasn't all bad. This hedgehog hadn't tried to kill her despite resisting, he hadn't fought until she'd attacked him and he'd submitted after she'd defeated him. He seemed to be under some kind of delusion rather than being intentionally malicious. All of a sudden, her grip on him felt a lot looser. Try as she might to smother it, that kindling of compassion was growing brighter. As far as she knew, he hadn't claimed a single life; he hadn't even harmed a single seaman.

A sigh slid passed her lips. "I'm going to let go, you can sit up but do not move from that spot." Quickly deciding she was being too limp-wristed with him she quickly snapped. "I-If you do, my generous demeanour will quickly sour. You'll be back on the deck before you can blink."

His expression softened, as she slid off of the hedgehog he slowly rose to sit beside her; gangly legs poking free of his wrappings and revealing a second set of cuffs. Thin as he was, the hedgehog was almost a head taller than her. "Um… thank you, Blaze."

Neither the terms your majesty nor your highness passed his lips, just Blaze. Again, compassion bubbled in her gut; she felt a strange heat on her face. Being unable to look away, certain he'd capitalise on her weakness, propagated that warmth. She continued the interrogation in hopes of quashing this feeling. "Explain yourself! Why are you out here, why are you stealing from my vessels?"

"W-Well, I don't expect you to believe me but I didn't simply sail out here; at least, I didn't sail out here as you did," He started to explain. "I don't quite understand it myself, but I used this ship to cross a sea of time. I came here from the future."

Before she could even respond, he flinched slightly and his face crumpled. The hedgehog clearly wasn't expecting to be believed and, in truth, he had reason to think that. His claim was ludicrous, but then today had been a ludicrous day. She'd set out expecting to disprove a ghost tale only to find herself face to face with a cursed boy on a decrepit version of her own flagship. At this point, he could say he was an alien and she might have believed him.

A sigh, not far from a grumble, slipped past her lips. "Continue."

"Y-Your kingdom is going to fall. It's going to overtaken by a shadowy puppet-master and his pet monster. They'll shackle your people and work them, to death destroy all who disobey their will." The hedgehog continued to explain. "That's why I'm here, that's why I'm stealing from the past. I'm gathering all I can to rise up against them, give us a fighting chance. I figured that if I stole things from now, he wouldn't have them to use against us then," He quickly listed the types of items he'd stolen. "Weapons, trinkets and valuables; anything that can be used to fight, anything that can be melted down to make weapons and anything we can use for barter."

"That is difficult to believe." Blaze informed him, the strangeness of his tale offsetting her embarrassment. "Though, perhaps, not impossible; if you can provide further explanation. You say you crossed a sea of time to get here, how exactly did you do that?"

"I-I can show you," He offered, before quickly catching himself. "If you'll let me?"

She extended a hand to him, both offering to help him up but setting a rule. "You may stand as long as I hold you. If I release you, then you are to sit. If you flee then you will be made to sit."

Blaze watched a small smile line his lips, she felt his weak grasp and heard the waver return to his voice. "I-I'm not sure I could even stand without you holding me. It's taking all I have left to keep us from sinking…"

This proved true, as she tugged him to his feet he wobbled before stumbling into her. He unleashed an avalanche of apologies like they'd been building up over years but she was too focused on suppressing her blush to care. Her position meant physical contact was a rarity; she'd touched this time travelling pirate more than anyone in recent memory. Not only that but she'd offered her hand to him, pinned him to the deck and now slung his arm around her shoulder. She was initiating this far more than he was.

With his free hand, he pointed her toward the back of the ship, offering what little movement his limp legs would allow. She'd noticed it before, but he really was frail. Admittedly, Blaze hadn't had to hoist someone along like this before but she reckoned that Gardon, who was two-thirds of Silver's height, likely weighed more than him. As she brought her free arm around his waist her fingers struggled to find his form beneath burlap and matted fur. When she did find his side, providing additional support to aid his walking, she felt ribs through his skin. It was the same thinness, the same starvation evident in his pale muzzle. The majority of his weight seemed to be made up of the cuffs binding his extremities, rather than his body. The remains of a broken chain, hanging from both of his wrists, raised both questions and concerns. No wonder his feet were dragging, no wonder he'd flown everywhere, the set on his ankles were even thicker. The hedgehog hadn't flown to condescend her; he flew because he was in pain.

Just as she recalled his mention of her people in chains, the hedgehog began to speak again. He must have followed her gaze. "We're all bound, but those with strength are given stronger bonds. I managed to break the chains myself but I could never get the wrist parts off," As if to emphasise, he gave his wrist a little shake. "I acted as though my power was weak, I hoped if I did they'd leave me alone, but they just pushed me until I showed them more."

"What did they make you do?" Blaze dared to enquire.

"Build, dig…" He began to explain. "They tried to get me to do a lot of things, but I only really did those two. When all seemed lost you brought down the castle, so there was plenty for me to excavate. I-I tried to do it slowly…"

There was pain in the last of his words; Blaze cursed herself for softening further. "While I am glad I made some form of final stand and loosed one last act of defiance." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. She was talking as though she believed him. Well, she did believe him; whether she liked it or not. "You shouldn't have drawn their ire trying to maintain my final effort."

Silver shook his head. "There were a lot of things they wanted in the palace, I never quite understood what or why though. They talked a lot about jewels and emeralds, saying they'd help secure world dominance. I never found any but they were always talking about emeralds, always promising they'd set me free if I found one. I never did but, if I ever did, I'd probably have buried it even deeper."

The mention of emeralds caught more than its share of Blaze's attention and she was about to enquire more when she ears caught the wheeze on his breath, she halted at the cyan light surrounding the ship flickered but quickly returned. The fight had taken most of his stamina but there was a reason that reserve was so low. Not only was he malnourished; he was clearly sick.

"You stole so why not steal food too? Weapons and gold are far more valuable, I assume you'd have no qualms with doing that?" Blaze questioned.

"I-I have from time to time, bits of hardtack and cheese, but," Silver grimaced. "I don't like doing this, I only wanted to steal what I had to. Only what could help those in the future. I wasn't stealing to make myself comfortable, if I stole food it'd go rotten. There's nowhere to keep it on this boat."

There was a difference between being comfortable and healthy but, clearly, this Silver hadn't considered that. Blaze felt another wave of compassion surge through her, she could relate to him in a way she hadn't really related to anyone. He'd taken on this duty without hesitation and fully committed himself to it, working himself to death was stupid, of course, but it was certainly endearing.

Before she could ask more questions, they'd arrived at the ship's cabin.

With the wave of his hand, the door opened. The inside was stripped bare, the inner walls untouched by cyan light, save for a small object near the centre of the room. It looked to be a stone, roughly hexagonal in shape and an inch or two larger than her palm. With a point, a cyan bubble surrounded the rock and brought it up to hover before them.

"I know it doesn't look like much now but when I found it there was a strange light, almost like fire." He reminisced, wheeze hanging on every word. "I figured that meant it was important so I hid it from them, took it with me wherever I went in case they found it. When they had me lift up your ship the stone kind of reacted, the light surrounded both me and boat. We vanished into this weird blue and yellow swirl for a while? I don't know how to really describe it… but we reappeared on an island in the middle of nowhere. Ships passed on their routes and I recognised their symbols from other wrecks I'd pulled up. It took me a while but I eventually pieced it all together."

Blaze plucked the stone from his aura and immediately felt a bizarre sense of familiarity. Its shape was similar to a set of emeralds she knew and Silver's tale lined up with stories she'd heard; the colouration and texture were wrong though. Drawing the claw of her right thumb, she scratched along its black surface. Black, rock-like, dust was freed by her scraping. She had brought down the castle, or so Silver had said, but perhaps that wasn't all she'd done.

"Close your eyes Silver, I'm going to try something."

Once he complied, she set the hand wielding the emerald alight; engulfing the stone in bright orange flames. The response was immediate; what looked to be tar or rock of some nature, was quickly melted away to reveal a vibrant purple beneath. Her assumption had been confirmed confirmed; as the filth was purged a reliquary was revealed. The sight filled her with equal measures of awe and dread.

"Silver, you did find one of the emeralds," She revealed, indicating that he should reopen his eyes. "But this goes against so much of what I know. The emeralds are inert, fables surround them but they've been sealed away for hundreds of years. There has been no reason to call upon them, no cause great enough to draw them out."

"But that means no one has checked on them, right? Maybe something changed and they've started working again?" He questioned.

"The Sol Emeralds only have power during times of crisis. They are a collection of seven reliquaries, capable of performing extraordinary feats of magic. They last showed their power during Percival the First's rule. When her parents were assassinated and she was left to rule alone, a child of only seven years, they aided in her protection; losing their power as she herself grew more powerful," Blaze exposited before turning back to him. "Do you understand what this is? What this means?"

"Not really, you said a lot of really big words, I-I... I really don't know what a reliquary is," He seemed to perk up a little though, a small smile forming as he pointed toward the stone. "That's a Sol emerald though and it's important, right? I got that much. They work in times of crisis and the kingdom being in ruin must have counted as one of those times?"

"You've understood the essentials, this more than proves your story to be true," She briskly walked him from the cabin and back onto the deck, the gravity of the situation still impacting her. "We must depart for my ship and make haste toward the palace."

"Y-You might be able to depart, I can't," Silver's denial forced her to take pause. "I mean, what about the plunder? If I leave this ship, everything will sink to the bottom of the ocean. Some of it might survive but the gunpowder won't and things will start rusting," He described. "And what about everyone in the future, without that stone, I can't get back to them!"

"You told me that my kingdom will fall; that my people will suffer and the skeleton of my castle will be defiled by a tyrant, lusting for weapons of war. I will not let that happen. It is my duty, both as princess and guardian, to protect my people." Blaze thoroughly explained, not daring to waste a word. "I will put your information to good use and prevent this disaster, be it through the defence of my kingdom or caging this puppeteer and slaying his monster. But, with you by my side, I think we can undo this tragedy rather than heal it in post." She continued, throwing him a glance. "You have stolen much from me over these past months but the righteousness of your cause has swayed me."

"Swayed you?" Silver's head tilted, confusion spread across his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You will not be taken to the gallows, instead…" Blaze hesitated. She was dealing with a crisis but, simultaneously, dealing with a person the likes of which she never had before. One who called her by her name and thought her curse was a blessing. Her mind and heart were at war. "Instead you will stay with me, no matter how long this campaign lasts; I want you by my side," Clearly oblivious, he blinked at her. Blaze couldn't maintain her stare; she finally tore her gaze from his gangly frame. "Y-You're so naïve, must I be blunt with you?"

"I think I would appreciate it?" He gulped, very much unfazed by their situation.

"This is most unorthodox, I-I wish to take you…" She scrambled for the right words. "A-As a companion," That term was close, but not quite what she meant. "A partner of sorts, t-to aid me in preventing this travesty. You have acted to protect my people, so I will protect you from the stockade."

"You mean like friends?" He bluntly inquired, "I've not really had many friends, but they're supposed to help each other; aren't they? So if you want to help me and I want to help you…"

Friendship had no place in a princes' life, she'd specifically worded her proposal to avoid that term, but having met the hedgehog's bright yellow eyes; Blaze couldn't refute his offer. "If that is how you'd prefer to word it, yes."

"I think I'd like that a lot," A smile managed to break across his muzzle. "I haven't really had any friends, just people I've met and been separated from. To think my first would be someone so incredible, it's amazing!"

Feeling that heat on her face again, Blaze tried to press on and ignore his embarrassing words. "Are you strong enough for one return trip, to lift me to my ship then pull me back? I need to announce our plan to my crew."

"I-I don't think so, not while keeping The Sunflower afloat," Silver admitted, the weakened glow of his hands acting as proof. "I could sail closer to your ship though? Get you within leaping distance, or shouting distance at the very least?"

The feline allowed herself a small smile. "That will do nicely, thank you."

Blaze felt him shift slightly, the wind began to catch her fur and she heard the ship groan as it began to glide across the water. Soon the fog obscured her vision and the sound of Gardon panicking found her ears, loudening with each passing second. The old man was clearly panicking, he'd be glad to see her in one piece but before that, Blaze gave her new friend another glance. Though Silver claimed he could do this much, even through the fog, Blaze could see that his eyes were clenched shut and his hands were balled. She'd have to stay here with him, prepared to grab him and leap if his power ran out.

Regardless, before he fell, she wanted to say some final words to him. "Silver?"

"Y-Y-Yes?" He was clearly struggling to talk, overwhelmed by psychic strain.

"I'll do all I can to make this right," She promised, hoisting him a little higher and thus bearing more of his weight. "Your efforts won't be for nought, I will defend my kingdom."

"I-I'm far from done Blaze," Tired as he was, steely determination returned to his voice. His tone wasn't dissimilar to when he'd made his demands. "We'll make this right, together," The feline tightened her grip on him.

She'd found an ally, one she already trusted unlike any she'd made prior, but the guardian doubted her care alone would shield him. His power would prove useful, his knowledge and kindness would too, but the curse affixed to his hands would draw prying eyes and dangerous parties. Rumours would swirl like a maelstrom, engulfing both her and the hedgehog. Blaze knew she would have to hide him from her own people; if they'd fear her for embracing her powers then they'd surely fear his blessing.

This wasn't going to be easy, sneaking him into the castle would be difficult (let alone keeping him safe and hidden there), but Blaze was determined to help her new companion. As the ghost-ship drew closer to its past counterpart, the many mysteries this venture had uncovered started to nag at the princess. Who was this puppet master and where had they come from, how had they overwhelmed the entirety of her armada and when would they strike? Were her people in danger now or did they have a few more years to prepare? Only one thing was certain, the moment her feet touched the shore she would start preparing. Her words couldn't be mere consolation, Silver's efforts wouldn't be for nought; they were going to make this right.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Between the Witch & the Hunter

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Steve x Diana Rating: T  Summary: Diana is pressed against her door, hand hovers above her handle and wonders what possessed her to agree to work with a hunter. Then she remembers that people are dying, and that she is not heartless and won’t do anything and pretend all is fine. “Swear it to me,” she says at the end. “Swear it on your life.” Words: 1546 Notes: @wondertrevnet‘s WonderTrev Lock Out Bing. Square: AU. Chapter 1 out of 4. [WonderTrev Bingo Masterlist]

Read @ AO3

“Listen miss Prince,” Steve Trevor starts. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I swear on my honor, I will not hurt you. I’m not here to kill you.”

Diana is pressed against her door, hand hovers above her handle and wonders what possessed her to agree to work with a hunter. Then she remembers that people are dying, and that she is not heartless and won’t do anything and pretend all is fine. “Swear it to me,” she says at the end. “Swear it on your life.”

From behind her door, she hears Steve Trevor sigh, “Can you open a crack, so you can see my hands as I swear?”

Diana considers this and her shoulders slump, she knows that she must open a bit of the door. “Fine, but try anything and I will defend myself.”

“I would not expect anything less,” Steven Trevor says.

Diana moves where she can see and opens the door a bit, she watches as Steve Trevor jumps a bit, then looks at her to the crack she’s opened and gives her a charming smile. Damn it, he’s handsome. She watches as he carefully rises his hands, then walks two steps back, the smile softens on his face.

“I, Steven Rockwell Trevor, do solemnly swear not to hurt you, miss Prince. On both my honor as a Trevor and on my life.”

Diana nods then, satisfied at the fact that Steven has given his full name. She could use her magic to protect herself if she must, names have power and Steven has just given her the power to hurt him terribly. He must be a brave one… or an idiot. “Then you may come in.” She says and steps aside, opening the door to let him in.

Steven Trevor walks in and remains near the door, his movements are slow and measured, “Thank you miss Prince. I know this is a hard choice for you, but we truly appreciate your help.”

Diana gives him a skeptical look, “I’m sure you could’ve found someone else.”

Steven Trevor shakes his head, a rueful look on his face. “No, I’m afraid we didn’t. Thanks to less than ethical – ha! - hunters, no witch in town wished to aid us. But I swear, we at ARGUS aren’t mindless killers. We only go after those who are true problems.”

Now it’s Diana who gives him a skeptical look, “If that’s for me to lower my guard, mr. Trevor, it won’t work.”

Once more, Steven shakes his head. “No miss Prince, it’s the truth. My team and I work honestly, if you are not causing trouble or hurting others, we leave you alone. We only intervene in situations like these…”

Diana knows what he’s speaking about. There have been several killings in town, and she knows well enough to know, that they point at one thing: Supernatual intervention. Demonic, most likely. “Assuming I believe you,” she sighs. “What do I get out of this?”

“Payment and our gratitude,” Steven says easily. “And should you ask for it, our protection and permanent employment.”

Diana’s eyes narrow. “Protection, employment?”

“Yes miss Prince, this is not the first time we work with witches or wizards and those who aid us, have the choice to work for us,” Steven doesn’t miss the look Diana gives him. “But not to kill others, but for investigations on demons or monsters!” He rushes out.

Diana arches her eyebrow, wary and tense. “Only demons or monsters?” She asks.

“Yes. No witch or wizard, we will ask no such thing of you. Vampires, demons, werewolves, monsters? Yes.”

Diana knows that it’s almost too good to be true, so she looks at Steven. He stands tall and proud, head held high – but there’s no arrogance in his stance -, eyes are still and are not shifting, clear of any lie, he stands still and only moves his hands in slow and measured movements. The behavior of a man who knows he’s being evaluated, and the behavior of a man who knows long hunts, she sighs, “Fine. I will help you, I can’t turn my back on needless suffering.”

The smile that Steven Trevor gives her is radiant, and Diana feels the need to silent chide herself, for his already handsome face is made lighter and she thinks that his face looks much nicer with a smile.

Steven extends his hand, “May I shake your hand miss Prince?” He still doesn’t approach her.

Diana extends her hand, she gives tiny steps towards him until she reaches him. Places her hand in his. His hand is warm and his grip is both gentle and firm.

“Welcome aboard, miss Prince.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Diana warns him.

Steven’s face grows solemn. “Never.”

An hour later Diana has her bags packed, says a prayer to Hecate and hopes that her mother is not too angry at her.

*****

Her room in ARGUS headquarters is small, but comfortable. “If there is anything that you should need, miss Prince, all you need to do is ask.” Steve says and then leaves her alone to settle in.

The first thing Diana does is unpack, makes an altar for Hecate and once more, she says a quick prayer.

Half an hour later, there’s a knock on her door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me miss Prince.” Steven’s voice comes through.

Diana opens the door, “You know, if we’re to work together, you probably should simply call me Diana.”

Steven nods, “I didn’t want to assume I could. And well, why don’t you call me Steve, no one but my mom calls me Steven. And I’m here to bring you to meet the team, and so you can grab something to eat.”

Diana arches her eyebrow,  but begins to follow him, “Steve,” She says, savoring the name. “So… you’re my minder?”

Steve actually laughs, “No, Diana, far from it. Simply being polite, I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he then shrugs his shoulders. “Besides, I figure that it would be easier for you, at least you know me and that I have sworn not to hurt you. The team that will work with us has been notified and they are prepared to swear too.”

Diana is impressed, she wouldn’t have thought that his whole team would do that. “That… is very kind.”

Steve gives her another dazzling smile. “You’re to work with us, and trust is important.” They walk into a small dining are, and there are three men and a woman sitting down on a table with food trays in front of them, chatting quietly. “Boys, Etta,” Steve says, calling their attention. At once, they look at them. “Let me introduce you to miss Diana Prince,” Steve says. “She’s the witch who has graciously agreed to help us, and the one whom you’re about to swear no harm.”

Diana watches as they stand, one by one they swear to never hurt her. She commits their names to memory, Charlie, Sameer, Napi and Etta. “A pleasure to meet you all,” she says. “I hope we can work well.”

Etta gives her a kind smile, “I’m sure we will deary, come sit, we’re about to eat. Steve, go get the lady some food.”

Steve doesn’t protest, he simply gently pushes her towards the table and he walks off in search of food. Diana sits, stiff and wary, but Napi – or Chief, as he prefers – begins talking with her, his nature is kind and she feels oddly at ease with him. It’s then when Steven places a tray in front of her with a smile.

They eat, chatting about everything and Diana lowers her guard just a bit. Enough to have polite conversation with them and laugh at a joke Charlie made. Food is consumed and only then, do they excuse themselves, leaving her and Steve alone.

“They seem nice,” Diana says as Steve escorts her back to her room.

“They are,” Steve says easily. “They truly are the best team anyone could want. And tomorrow I’ll give you a proper tour of ARGUS, but it’s late.”

They’re at her door when Diana asks, “Steve, why haven’t you asked me to swear no harm in turn?”

Steve smiles easily, “Because, I wanted you to see that we wouldn’t harm you. That we mean our words, if you wish to swear, then go ahead, if not, well, that’s fine.”

Diana mulls his answer, she knows what he means. A show of trust. She then nods, lifts her hand up and keeps two fingers up, the rest she bends downward, touching the ring finger to her thumb. “I, Diana Artemis Prince, do solemnly swear no harm on Steven Rockwell Trevor, nor his teammates. I swear on my honor as a disciple of Hecate and on my life.”

The smile that Steve gives her is radiant, then he bows to her, “Thank you Diana, I will tell the team. I will leave you to your rest. If you need anything, my room is no.305”

Diana enters her room once he leaves, changes to her pajamas and climbs into bed. She’s tired and can feel the lure of sleep growing, “Hecate, please, keep me safe. Don’t make me regret trusting him.”

That night, strangely enough, Diana sleeps soundly.