#did he ask esther what day he became her familiar?

[itsthenovelteafactor]

okay but monty getting really into horoscopes and making birth charts for everyone but also not knowing his own birthday because he was a crow three days ago??

[klausysworld]

Hi hi!! I was wondering if you could write a Daddy Klaus fluff where the little reader has a really bad issue with her heart (prone to heart failure and has a defib implant like me) and when she's having a bad anxiety attack he helps calm her down, makes sure her heart is beating okay, etc???

His Sweet Little Heart

Klaus had noticed something off with Y/n's heart since day one when Marcel begrudgingly introduced them. Apparently she was one of Marcels only human friends, and he made it very clear that she wasn’t for Klaus to play with.

“Leave her be, Klaus” he muttered, not a hint of anything other than seriousness as Y/n approached them with a smile.

It only took one incident, Klaus had grabbed the poor girl, threatened her and pushed her into a panic. Marcel quite literally threw Klaus off her and was stroking her hair. After he took Y/n home and came back to yell at the hybrid, he spat out that Y/n had a heart condition and that he wouldn’t allow Klaus or anyone to risk her life.

Klaus didn’t really understand how Marcel and Y/n had become friends, perhaps through Davina who Y/n was also close with as it turned out.

She never spent too much time with Klaus to begin with but once everything happened with the baby, and she was under the impression that he had lost his child to witches, she tried to be as kind as possible to him. Klaus latched onto that kindness quickly.

He fed on it, he needed it. And she was so willing to give in. She’d talk with him for hours, sit and watch him paint and listen to him explain what the paint strokes meant. She would ask if he liked human foods, he said he liked beignets and she offered to go get some but he shook his head. “You do enough sweetheart, I’ll get them for us” he smiled and she softened, nodding and sitting back in the round snuggle chair he had bought for her.

Everything was quite sweet for a while, the Mikaelsons rarely went out and Klaus spent all his time with Y/n.

But then Hope turned out to be alive and suddenly the world was chaos again. Esther, Mikael, Dahlia, and anyone else was at the doorstep. Suddenly Y/n had a target over her head due to her relationship with Klaus and she couldn’t handle that well at all.

Far too often she would be wheezing for air, her heart failing to keep up with her breaths. Klaus would find her just in time, worry spread across his face as he wrapped his arms around her and held her in his lap. “It’s okay” he whispered “it’s okay, I’m sorry” he repeated, stroking her hair. His attention would be solely focused on her heart, waiting for it to beat correctly. There were few occasions when the fear settled in and he would pick her up, promising it was okay and speeding her to a hospital to make sure she was actually alright.

They always said to keep away from stressful situations.

Klaus never knew how to respond to that.

Often he would suggest she stay indoors, in his room preferably but that upset her. She wasn’t incapable and he knew that but he didn’t know how else to keep her safe.

Sometimes she would get herself so worked up about not being able to help that she’d push herself into a panic or anxiety attack. The first time it happened, Klaus had thought someone hurt her and was desperately trying to find a wound on her but after they kept happening and she refused to talk about it, he knew what was happening. And it scared him as much as it did her.

He would sit and listen to her heart weakly patter in her chest, the irregular pattern became familiar to him and alarm bells rang as soon as it went away from its peculiar rhythm.

On instinct he would scoop her into his lap, hips lips would find her face and soft words would be whispered into her ear. Gently he would caress his hand over the spot where her heart lay, waiting for it to calm down. “It’s alright my sweet little heart, let Daddy hold you” He would soothe quietly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He sighs a sigh of relief when she snuggles back against him, her heart stabilising and her breaths coming out slower. “Mm sorry daddy” she would whisper but Klaus would always shake his head

“Don’t be sorry for something that’s not your fault” he would tell her with a loving smile and a soft kiss. Her head would rest against his chest and he would hum softly while picking her up and carrying her to their bed or the sofa so that they could be together and bask in the warmth of the other.

(It’s short but it’s something 😄 Once again struggling to write. That’s a lie, I’m struggling to write on here, Im actually trying to plan out a proper book that I wanna write one day. Probably won’t happen but it’s nice to have goals?)

[crowpickingss]

One Bird

monty and gn! dove reader (platonic)

summary: pt2 takes place before/during/after monty is turned back into a crow

warnings: running away, witchcraft, hitting people with canes

a/n: I love me a pt2, I love to think that Monty gets turned back into a human

part 1

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The day after Monty had his heartbroken by that ghost was the day you decided to leave. You had found a scrap piece of paper in the kitchen with books and page numbers written all over it. When Esther fell asleep you snuck into the kitchen and flicked through all the book until you had a very clear understanding of her plan. What she had told you was too tame from what it actually was.

That night you had packed everything up and left. The last thing you did was whisper goodbye to Monty and left.

You paced down the dark street only being illuminated every so often by a street light. You walked past the butchers shop and looked up at the window which has the light on.

You walked for what felt like days but was only around a couple minutes. You walked until you reached the beach. Before Esther captured you your favourite place was the beach. Doves don’t normally go on the beach but you were different.

You sat on the beach and stared into the vast ocean watching as the waves rose and then fell. When the sky became brighter you stood up from your spot on the beach. You started walking back into town headed for one spot in particular.

You had never been to the butchers shop, it never crossed your mind. You opened the door to see the butcher Jenny “Uh hi I’m looking for Crystal” She looked up at you “She left a while ago” You sighed but waved and left. You paced up and down the street lost in thought when you remembered why you had been looking for Crystal.

You started walking back to the place you had just left. When you arrived you snuck around the back and used the lattice to climb up to you and Monty’s room. When you looked inside you were sad to see him not there.

You sat in the backyard and thought about everything. The reason you were going to the butchers shop was to tell Crystal about Esther’s plan. The reason you returned to the house was to tell Monty what was really going to happen. You sat up and brushed the grass of your legs.

You started to make your way to the forest. It would take a while to get to the forest but you didn’t care you were set on finding your brother. When you reached the forest the sky had started to turn darker. You looked around for a resemblance of a person.

After a while of searching you heard a scream. You turned to the area of the scream and saw a crow flying your way. It landed in your hand “Monty? Is that you” The crow pecked at your hand which you took as a signal “What’s going on, why are you a crow again” You turned and saw Esther staring at you “I was wondering when you were going to show up” She was smiling as she approached you “Running off the day before our big plan, kind of selfish if you ask me” she brought her can up higher “I think you deserve exactly what’s coming to you” You stepped back “And what’s that?”

She cackled and hit you with the cane causing you to fall into the floor “I think I preferred when you would just squawk” and with that she began the ritual to turn you back into a dove. In a matter of seconds you had transformed and was now perched on the ground standing next to crow Monty.She sent you back to the house and forced you to sit in the cage.

After Esther was gone for good. You and Monty were finally set free. You two chose to stay in the house waiting for someone to come. One day a familiar cat came into the vacant house. He transformed right there into the Cat King “If I let you two become humans, promise me you won’t try to get revenge for Esther” He took Esther’s book and transformed you back into humans “Thanks, It feels good to be back” The cat king smiled and then left.

You turned to Monty and gave him a hug “Monty, I’m sorry for leaving” Monty smiled at you “It’s fine, I forgive you”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

[nichenarratives]

Hurricane Heller 12

Entire works can be found on AO3 here.

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Authors note: this chapter personally offended me and had to be rewritten from scratch about 7 times. Please forgive that it's a little short, but I can't look at it anymore. I need to move on. Condolences willingly accepted.

12. Painful Reminiscing

It's been three weeks, but the interaction remains raw within the tom's memory; the very moment he became unwelcome in his mother's home, even as he continued to pay the bills. A slew of complicated and intertwined events, emotions and opinions all led up to that specific memory, all of which play on Mordecai's mind as he's forced to wait for a census on his future in the launderette back room, his body aching and begging for rest he simply won't permit amongst strangers.

The turning point was six months ago when, abandoned by Hashem as he begged for an alternative path, Mordecai had shed the last of his faith and fully assimilated into the Kosher Butcher. He'd excommunicated himself that Sunday, abandoning the pretense of Sabbath services and residual faith entirely knowing it would cause strife with his mother, but no longer willing to pretend for her peace of mind.

Despite this decision, he continues to return home for each Sunday meal, equal parts for the calming routine and to stay close to his beloved family. Time spent with Esther remains a joy while connecting with Rose continues to challenge his social capabilities, but it's the hours assisting mother in the kitchen that become exhaustive.

Presuming his severance from the synagogue is temporary once more, she speaks predominantly on responsibility and duty to his faith, lecturing her wayward eldest until he has to excuse himself for air multiple times an hour. What used to be a familiar ritual has become something he dreads every week, creating an unspoken rift between Mordecai and his mother with every passing Sabbath meal. 

It only worsens, for her temper flares after months of excuses. Her queries and accusations become more pointed and demanding of explanation, yet Mordecai keeps his answers vague. He has no intention of dragging his family into the world in which he found himself, nor informing his mother of the blood staining the funds he provides. When cornered, he always has the same answers: work was demanding; there just wasn't time to attend; his other responsibilities needed to come first.

Every now and again, he would bring up the bills he paid or the new clothes his wage bought the girls, which would shut his mother down entirely. The peace never lasts more than a few weeks though. He walks on eggshells around her to avoid instigating another discussion, which often leaves the tuxedo irritable and anxious, disturbing his sleep for days.

Three weeks ago had been Rose's bat mitzvah, a day his mother repeatedly reminded Mordecai of as it approached. She was too proud to ask, but it was clear in her words she expected him to attend his sister's aliyah, an emphasis on the importance of her transition into adulthood, especially as the youngest child. The tom never admitted his intention to skip it to avoid confrontation, simply not showing up for the service as he hadn't for the five months beforehand.

He did, however, attend the celebratory reception, coming in late to avoid notice and tracking down Rose as swiftly as he could, who confirmed she was just happy to see him even if he'd missed the service. He'd handed over his gift - an ornate, monogrammed box containing a number of pencils with various granite grades, to encourage her artistry - and had tolerated the vice-like embrace it garnered, before he'd excused himself and made to leave.

Mordecai had hoped to leave unhindered, but was caught at the door by Nataliya. Their exchange was polite but short; an acknowledgement of his absence from Sabbath services, a polite query of her health and a return answer of his own. He didn't promise to speak with her again as he made his excuses to leave either, hoping continued absences would unravel the matchmaking their parents initiated years ago as he slipped back out into the street.

"Mordecai Issac Heller, you stop this instant." 

Use of his full name stopped him in his tracks immediately, sending a potent shot of adrenaline through his body as he turned to face his scowling mother. She approached with an irrefutable fury that raised the hackles on his neck, even as he set his lips into a firm frown and met her gaze without a hint of fear, though his ears betrayed his true emotions and folded flat to his skull with shame.

"Where were you?" She demanded in an unnecessarily loud tone, considering she was barely feet from her son. There's no need to elaborate on the question; she's referring to the Sabbath service that morning. When he doesn't answer, she continues regardless, attracting the unwitting attention of numerous passersby. "You knew Rose had her reading, you know how important it is, and you don't bother to show up?"

She got closer, forced to glare up at the son who'd grown to an easy four inches taller than his mother, not that he could appreciate that extra height when being berated. He felt like a naughty child. "People are whispering, Mordecai. They're not asking if you're okay, they're spreading rechilus about you and your chutzpah. Our faith is becoming a joke to your congregation because you don't show your face!"

He opened his mouth, but was immediately shut down by a warning hiss. Mordecai swallowed and struggled to maintain his composure, acutely aware of a gathering crowd of both strangers and congregation members. "Don't you dare make those same excuses. Don't you dare think I'm going to let it slide again," she'd chastised. "I want the truth, bachur. What's so important, you can't even make it to your sister's Bat Mitzvah? What is more important than your faith?"

Mordecai's mouth was dry. Even if he wanted to tell her, he couldn't at that moment, not with so many people waiting in earnest for his response. Emotions threatening to rampage under his skin, he'd taken a deep breath, briefly closed his eyes to compose himself, then answered the demand with the same excuse as usual. "I've been busy, moth-"

The slap has been so hard, it snapped his head to the side, echoing in the suddenly silent street as onlookers gasped or held their hands to their mouths. Too stunned to speak, his habitual lies knocked right out of his mouth, he couldn't move for a number of seconds. Only as his cheek began to throb and he raised a hand to his hot flesh had he managed to look back to his mother, who had a mixture of fury and anguish twisting her features, thick tears magnified by her pince nez. 

"Your father would be ashamed of you."

Mordecai hasn't tried to speak to his mother or sisters since then. His Sundays are lonely and long, as are his waits between assignments, an empty void the tuxedo has taken to sleeping through even though it makes him hard to rouse for work. It's becoming increasingly difficult to distract himself through conscious engagement, his plants the only thing he reliably waters, as they cannot care for themselves. 

Now he's here, in need of semi-urgent medical assistance and under armed guard after killing a co-worker, revenge for the path he placed the young tuxedo on years prior, even if he's aware Fiores isn't to blame for his troubles. Mordecai gained no satisfaction from taking his life either, but still feels less tense somehow, possibly because it was one less bastard in the world to corrupt another desperate child.

He sits on the floor with his left leg splayed awkwardly in front of him, leaning against the wall with his head tilted back against flaking plaster. The cool compress held to his swollen face has long since gone warm, but he remains still, eyes closed to lessen the throbbing in his head, breathing shallowly as each inhale makes his ribs ache.

Despite his injuries, sitting on the filthy floor and a growing restlessness deep in his core, the most disconcerting thing remains the gun aimed at his forehead. Other than to hand him a compress, the enforcers haven't spoken to or tried to approach Mordecai since he sat down, a nervous air about them whenever they work near his still frame to clean up Fiores' mangled body. A blessing, certainly; he has nothing to say that was not already expressed to Fiore himself.

Mordecai supposes he can't blame them; in only six years, he graduated from a laughably frightened boy to a torturer and murderer. Even though they encouraged those ruthless tendencies with their goading, perhaps they didn't think the little Jewish boy was capable of such atrocities. But that's their failure, not his; molded by treatment and opportunity, Mordecai doesn't regret a second, the blood on his hands as much a part of him as his now wretched soul.

Exhaustion pulls at the tuxedo tom, but he fights it tooth and claw, not trusting his company to resist putting a bullet in his head as he sleeps. Though if Savage condones it, he'll die in this grimy backroom content the money he's left behind will at least see his family moved to better rented housing. 

Mother can hate him forever if she wants to; so long as his sacrifices weren't for nought, Mordecai can die happy.

[loveaffairxc]

The next day was another whirl. And now he found himself at the Gala, seated at one of the elegantly adorned tables, surrounded by few other guests mingling and chatting animatedly. Faces flashed before him like fleeting glimpses of a dream, some familiar, others entirely unknown. As they danced, Frank watched them, first in fascination; but then the whole scene became a soft, circulating, boring pattern of faces and voices, all composed of pairs of people gazing tenderly at each other. He pensively relighted his cigarette when he finally noticed Emily in the background. She smiled from her large black-brown eyes as she held onto an old man's back tightly, almost losing her balance and laughing. Frank's lips curled into a faint smirk, there was something so charming and uplifting about her. Yet he kept wishing that her kiss was a deviation in their timeline. That he could erase it completely from her mind. He desired frantically to be away, never to kiss another soul; to creep out of his body and hide somewhere safe out of sight, up in the corner of his mind where he could observe rather than engage. If only her kindness and the time together were merely that of a blossoming friendship.

His mind drifted to Esther. It always did, it was starting to make him feel sick. Yet this time, it wasn't about clinging to hope of reconnecting with her, but how and whether he could move on. She seemed to be able to do it so well. It left him wondering what transpired during his absence in the war, and the depth of her commitment to James. But it was strange, he couldn't help but feel pathetic. He realized how feeble and broken his mind had been to ever entertain the idea of a reunion with Esther. War brought inevitable change, he had witnessed it in the lives of countless others. What made him think he would be immune? His gaze absentmindedly drifted to the other side, his heart knocking heavily as he noticed a familiar dress, the color of spun gold, the fabric flowing endlessly as it moved. It brought back millions of memories, the spirit of the past brooding over him. There should be no doubt that it was her dress, the very dress he bought her, yet he wondered for a second if his mind played tricks on him. His arm dangled on the backrest of the chair, the cigarette held loosely between his fingers, tendrils of smoke curling lazily towards his face as he remained fixated on the dress. The slightest shift in her posture presented an opportunity for him to examine it more closely, searching for any distinctive features or clues that would confirm his suspicion. His gaze lifted for a moment, revealing a distant silhouette, a mere hint of a woman. Despite the blur, her form seemed to echo that of Esther. She, too, appeared to be gazing in his direction, yet he hesitated to believe it was truly her. Why would it be? Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Don't you dance, Mr Connors?" Emily asked. His trance shattered, attention drawn away from the dress as she intercepted his line of sight.

"Nobody asked me"

"Ah, well..." She smiled. "I'll take my chances and ask you" She added, reaching out her hand, fingers wiggling playfully.

"You've already had enough of me, young lady?" said the older man, whom she had just been dancing with. He approached her from behind, holding her waist as he joked. Polite giggles erupted from Emily's lips, but Frank sensed a hint of discomfort beneath her laughter.

"Oh, Ray, this is Frank" Emily replied, a laugh in her voice. "Frank this is the gentleman I've talked to you about, Colonel Ray Worsham" Emily said with a warm smile, gesturing towards the distinguished older man standing beside her. "A true hero from the Great War. He's been instrumental in shaping the military aviation efforts and overcoming his own fears to soar to new heights."

Frank nodded respectfully, standing up to shake his hand "Pleasure to meet you"

As they all settled back into their seats, the table shimmered with polite laughter, transitioning seamlessly to the topic of war in the conversation. He knew he was condemned to talk about it at some point, yet he found himself unwilling to muster the energy to engage. The spot where he initially caught sight of Esther had become slightly congested, obscuring her from his line of sight as a bustling crowd formed, their figures forming a human wall around her. Only slivers of her dress peeked through the spaces between bodies, tantalizing hints of fabric amid the swirl of movement. He wasn't even sure it was her, the doubt was what obsessed him. The conversation morphed into a mere chatter, a background hum gently tickling his ears. He wasn't truly in it, he let Emily do all the talking, particularly in the realm of war conversations, a subject she had taken a decided penchant for. After several drags of his cigarette, his eyes remaining fixed, a moment arrived when a man took a few steps forward, briefly presenting the dress in full view for a few seconds. It was just what he needed, a fleeting but complete picture of its appearance.

"Think about that, poking a man to death three feet away from you. What that sounds like?" The old man interjected, disrupting his reverie.

A silence followed, during which Frank, aware of it, reluctantly shifted his gaze from the dress.

"Frank never talks about the war" Emily blurted out, as if eager to fill the awkward silence.

"The war? His you mean" Colonel said.

"What can I say? You boys used up all the glory"

As soon as he uttered those words he returned to his fixation. The conversation felt like a chore, the man's voice still audible."First war, trench war, they used to say..." He started. Frank feared that if he diverted his gaze, he might miss a fleeting moment where he could finally catch a glimpse of her. "...first man lights up they notice you, second man takes aim, third one hit his aim" He continued. Unbeknownst to him, Emily followed his gaze, subtly glancing over her shoulder to see what had captured his attention for so long.

The unmistakable silence returned. This time Frank quickly filled it, knowing that he was disengaged, and answered him in sentences as morose as he was. "Second rule, don't smoke. A good sniper can see a hot cherry for miles"

There. That brief interjection made him feel like he had fulfilled his social obligation, allowing him to return to his fixation which prevented him from properly noticing the changes around him. At some point the old man departed, replaced by a stream of different individuals passing by, yet Frank remained immersed in his own world. It was only then he noticed Esther was nearer, and seeing her up close, his heart skipped a beat. She looked happy, just as he had imagined her while writing those letters. He sighed aloud. Emily, now almost fascinated by Frank's detachment, glanced behind her once more, this time lingering longer.

"She's really pretty" She said suddenly, and after a few moments, silence. Frank averted his eyes away, feeling like he had been found out.

"She's married you know.."

Of course, she couldn't know, and probably mixed things up as she heard about Esther. Still, part of him started imagining her and James getting married. What were the odds they were going to do it anyway? Despite it all, there was a small silver lining in his mind, as far as he was concerned, she was not marrying him.

"Estelle Jenkins I think is her name. Nurse... She lost her husband in the war but... seems like she found true love in the end." Emily remarked, catching Frank's gaze. "It's like my brother used to say.." She added, her voice trailing off. "You can only connect the dots when you look back at them. True love can be sneaky like that."

"True love... really?"

"Just look" She turned to watch Esther again, her smile bright and eyes sparkly as she stood intimately near James. It was like seeing it in slow-motion, a slow fire burning inside him, about to explode with anger and jealousy at any moment. "If it's not true love then I don't know what is" She added.

He gave a long sigh, before Emily continued.

"What?" She noticed, watching his reaction. "Has the war turned you into a nihilist?

"No..No. Just realistic" He replied, his voice modulated.

"You know, I couldn't understand why you kept looking at them but now I do. Maybe it's a bit of envy speaking, seeing love so pure in a world like ours" Emily mused. "Maybe part of you wishes you were him. Seeing someone who's been through so much, yet found solace in another's arms"

He took one last glance at them, before stopping himself, it was like getting punched, feeling weaker the more he did it.

"You're right." He muttered, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray. "Oh to be a doctor. Stitching up wounds instead of bearing them." He lamented bitterly, rising from his seat. "It's not like when you're in it. Just young men spilling their guts in the mud."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get some air."

"Hey, what about that dance you owe me?" She asked, extending her hand for him.

He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. "I promise." before slowly making his way towards the exit.

// @ofholocenemuses

Esther stood before the wardrobe in their hotel room, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the delicate pearls around her neck. The gala was mere hours away, and her nerves were fraying at the seams.

Beside her, James sifted through a rack of suits, occasionally pulling one out to inspect before hanging it back. His brows furrowed in concentration, his mind seemingly occupied with the task at hand. Yet, Esther couldn't shake the feeling that something lingered beneath the surface with him. Ever since the incident with Frank, a subtle tension had woven its way into their relationship.

"James." Esther began tentatively, turning away from the wardrobe to face him. "Are you alright? You seem a bit…preoccupied of late."

He glanced up from the suit and offered her a reassuring smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, just a bit nervous about the Gala, I suppose." He replied, his tone light but guarded.

Esther nodded, though the unease lingered. She knew there was more to it than just nerves, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Pushing aside her lingering thoughts, she focused on selecting the perfect dress for the evening. She rifled through the various options she'd brought with her, each one a testament to her impeccable taste. Draped between them was a gown that brought back memories of a different era, memories of when she and Frank were still happily wed. The gown had been a gift from him, yet now it served as a bittersweet reminder of all they'd been through.

Her fingers drifted across the lustrous golden fabric and the beautiful silk buttons that adorned the front. Memories of the last time she'd worn it flooded her mind. It was a lavish party, much like the gala they were about to attend. She'd felt like a queen in Frank's arms that night as they danced beneath the twinkling chandeliers.

A sigh slipped from between her lips, and James stepped closer. "Gold's your colour, doll." He chimed in, threading a hand around her waist.

Esther smiled weakly, relishing in James' touch but unable to shake off the memories that the golden gown had stirred within her. She leaned into him, finding comfort in his presence as she whispered.

"Always has been."

-----------------

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the bustling city of London, Esther and James emerged from their luxurious hotel. They were both dressed in their finest attire, ready to attend the highly anticipated Veterans Gala. A sleek silver Rover awaited them at the roadside, its gleaming body shimmering in the fading light. James chivalrously held the door open for Esther, his charming smile offering little comfort to her jittery nerves. She anxiously settled into the plush leather seat, with James taking his place beside her, his eyes full of admiration as he took in her appearance in the gold dress.

The driver, a stern-looking middle-aged man, gave a curt nod through the rear-view mirror before starting the engine. The low purr of the car's powerful motor echoed through the lively streets as they made their way towards the Gala. The ride was filled with a palpable tension, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Esther couldn't help but let her mind wander back to Frank, wondering what he was up to and how he had been since they last saw each other. Despite the way things had ended, she couldn't shake their past. However, as she turned to James, she reminded herself that Frank had made his choice. She couldn't let herself be consumed by these thoughts anymore.

The silver Rover rolled to a gentle stop, its engine falling silent as James stepped out to help Esther from the car. The cool night air struck her like a cold winter wave. She glanced up at the grand entrance, towering columns framing the double doors. The lights from inside spilled out onto the path, and the sound of lively jazz music swelled in the distance. With pride gleaming in his eyes, James offered his arm to Esther as they made their way towards the entrance.

Inside, they were met by a sea of elegantly dressed guests mingling and sipping on cocktails. The air was filled with laughter and the gentle hum of conversation, and a waiter glided by with a tray of champagne, offering a glass each to James and Esther, who gladly obliged.

They weaved their way through the crowd, Esther's eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. She spotted acquaintances and old colleagues, their smiles and nods serving as reminders of the life she used to lead during the war. As James led her further into the room, they found themselves drawn to a lively group of people. Amongst them stood Arthur, an old friend and a veteran she'd cared for.

"Esther!" Arthur exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of her. "Look at you, ever the beauty!"

Esther returned his smile, grateful for the distraction as she pressed a kiss to his cheek in greeting. "You remember James, don't you?" She questioned, turning to face her partner with a smile.

"Arthur, pleasure to see you again. How have you been?" James chimed in, outstretching a hand to shake his own.

"Likewise." Arthur replied, shaking James' hand firmly. "Oh you know me, always after the next adventure. Just got back from a trip to South America, quite the exhilarating experience I'll have you know."

The light-hearted conversations continued. Esther took yet another sip from her glass, relishing in the warmth it brought to her bones. She swayed slightly, her body lulling to the music as if it were urging her to dance. She turned to James, her eyes ablaze with mischief as she gestured to the dance floor. "Don't think so doll." He laughed, pulling her closer in a playful embrace. "You know I've got two left feet."

She pouted in return. "Oh, come on now. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

He feigned a look of hesitation before finally giving in to her playful insistence. "Alright, alright. Just the one." He relented, leading her out onto the dance floor.

As they swayed to the rhythm of the music, Esther's worries began to fade as she focused on the present. The touch of James's hand on her waist felt reassuring amongst the chaos of the gala. They danced with effortless grace, spinning and twirling amidst the shimmering gowns and dapper suits that filled the room. Her gaze flitted from James to the rest of the crowd, and in that split moment a pang of uneasiness rippled through her as her gaze landed on a familiar figure in the distance.

[hhbridgertonau]

18 - Newfound Delights

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My dearest Dancel,

I shall not apologize for the absence of news. My life in Edengrove has been quite eventful. Everything is new, but there is a strange sense of familiarity. It is as if I have not left our summerhouse in Somersetshire, and yet strained as our marital circumstances have been, I am content, and found purpose in my duties as duchess and wife.

Gabriel is ever the tender gentleman, and in many ways, he reminds me of you and Ergon. Lady Nightbloom has taken her fair share of liberal expressions of Gabriel's character, but who he truly is is a secret and a privilege only I am able to witness. And what joy it is to be married to such a delightful, chaste character. Of course, his usual stoicism and judgmental attitude are ever present in the business, which he holds quite frequently during the day - but when there is nothing left to judge, he is gentile and passionate, as much as he wishes to hide the latter.

I do so wish to tell you more, but I fear a letter will be too short an opportunity. Which is why I invite you and the Stewart family to visit us post haste, by Friday at the latest. I know it has not been long since I left, but I hope you will come.

Ever your starling,

Daleon Driscol

The entirety of Esther Hall was in a delighted uproar in the anticipation of their guests. All throughout the house, footsteps thundered to and fro, carrying materials, decorations, and construction supplies for the upcoming celebration. It was a much different atmosphere compared to when Daleon first arrived, and her worry for being returned to London after her marriage was well past her then. Daleon wondered why she ever feared it at all. Gab had not pushed her away, and they quickly grew accustomed to sharing the same quarters, and living together in general. In response, she became bolder in her advances. She kissed his cheek every morning upon waking or seeing him if he was awake before her. He was understandably apprehensive of them at first, even in private, but she could see how he slowly began to recoil less, and lean more towards her.

And it was in that gradual acceptance of her affection, and the slow reciprocation of it, that she found herself in an unexpected predicament of simultaneous content and discontent. The content came from being able to express her affection once a day; the discontent stemmed from wanting more.

Heaven forbid she started thinking her marriage was beginning to dull so soon (it was not). But lately, on the occasion she closed her eyes, she pictured Gab - beautiful, stunning, and gentle as he was with his affections, doing more than the minimalist reciprocations of her affections. Where could those lips and hands touch? What wonders of their united souls could be uncovered if they were a little more engaging?

But such vulgar thoughts had no place in the mind of a duchess.

The ball served as a good distraction from her wandering implicit thoughts, and the staff shared the sentiment.

"A ball requested by the king is one thing, but his grace has not allowed visitors since his parents’ passing," said Mrs. Warrick. She and Daleon were in the large banquet hall that was to be used for the evening soiree. The flowers had yet to be delivered, but Daleon wanted a head start on the other decorations and party favors.*

"That is only to be expected, Mrs. Warrick," said Daleon proudly. "If I do not take action, Gabriel will only be brooding in his study for the rest of his days. A man of his youth should be enjoying his time with family and acquaintance." They tied lavender ribbons to small wicker baskets woven by some of the craftsmen. "Did the former duchess not hold gatherings?"

"Only a few, your grace," Mrs. Warrick admitted. "There was only a handful before Lady Emily's condition worsened."

"What was her ailment? If I may ask?"

"A sickness in the lungs. There was no cure. Lord Isaac tried everything he could afford." There was a flash of pained nostalgia on the headmistress' face. "It robbed our mistress of her joyful youth, and it was hard for the young master to watch his mother so sick. It hardened him into adulthood so quickly." She passed a few of the finished baskets to a maid before continuing. "I've told him time and time again in the absence of his parents that they would not wish their bright and clever boy to be cooped up in this place in solitude."

Then she turned to Daleon and smiled. "You remind us very much of our late Lady Emily. And we are only so happy to see the young master cared for."

Daleon could only smile modestly, not uttering a word.

"Oh goodness, look at me. My apologies, your grace. I spoke out of turn."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Warrick. I doubt Gabriel would ever confess to me of his past. I am honored."

Speaking of Gab, he marched in, a scowl on his face. "Daleon, why have you purchased multiple large canopy tents? I believed we were only having the soiree in the evening."

"Dear, do try not to frown so much," she said while smoothing the creases between his brows with her fingers. He relaxed under her touch. "You'll age faster. And why can't we have an outside canopy? We'll never know if our guests will arrive early, and they'd have much more fun outside than in. I've purchased pall mall equipment too. Besides, it will establish your reputation for the better by being a welcoming host."

"You mean our reputation," he picked up a basket and inspected it mindlessly. "Which is all well." He sighed, still reluctant at the idea of having guests.

She hung her head to hide her flushed face. "Our earlier guests should be arriving soon," she said.

"Ah, yes. More people to parade on my quiet recluse."

"They're our family."

"I'm not against them coming,"

"Except for Fauta, I presume."

"He knows no tact and is sure to try and make advances on the maids, if not you. It has happened before."

She tried to play coy. Though in truth, she was elated at Gabriel's words. "Well, in that case, I shall gladly glue myself to your side."

"I do not believe that will improve things, but I would want you to stay close to me as much as possible."

Now, she could no longer hide the smile on her face. It grew on her more and more until she was smiling silly and she wanted to let out a squeal of glee.

"To protect you from Fauta," Gab reasoned against the evident redness of his own face. "Stop smiling."

She pressed the back of her hand to her lips to hide it, but it was too late. She did not think in her lifetime that a man several years her age could be so darling, and her heart swelled at the notion that he was her husband.

"Leave us," he suddenly commanded. Mrs. Warrick clapped her hands, stopping the servants from their decorating, and quickly fled the ballroom, closing the doors on their way out. Gab bit his lip, clearly displeased.

Daleon's smile disappeared. "I'm sorry," she said. "I did not mean to embarrass you."

"Be that as it may. I meant what I said. I don't want him near you." He reached out his hand, brushed his knuckles over her cheek, and held it there.

She swallowed, trying to control her breathing and rapidly beating heart. "I shall be on my guard."

A knock came at the doors. It opened, and in popped the head of a maid. The couple pulled away instantly, discreetly straightening their clothes. "Your grace, there is a carriage outside."

A dark and brooding carriage rolled up on the front steps of Esther Hall. Dancel and Peggy stepped down, and Daleon ran to embrace them both. "Where is Ergon?" she asked.

'"He does not wish to be disturbed," Dancel replied. "He has informed me of where he is, but has instructed me not to tell you or anyone else. He wishes you well."

To think Ergon would ever deny himself the opportunity to see her. "For all our time together as siblings, this may be the first where I am unable to decipher his intentions." She stopped herself from shedding a tear. "Has my marriage to Gabriel truly made him so distraught?"

"He has always hoped that you would stay with him forever."

"I know that," she said, rubbing her hands to keep herself from worrying. "I only wish I could solace him now and make him understand. We don't have to be apart just because I'm married. We are still—"

"I assure you starling, he is safe." Dancel took her hands and held them. "He will return when he is ready to face you. Give him time."

She nodded, squeezed his hands in return, and thought to change the subject. "But what of you now?"

Dancel smiled. "I am not alone. Zaheer has always been great company, as is Peggy when he is not hiding in his home and writing his book. And Roush calls on me almost every day."

Over his shoulder, Daleon saw Roush emerge from the carriage, smiling and tipping his hat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peggy frown.

Lord Ainsworth and Fauta arrived a few minutes later, just in time for tea. They arranged for a table under the canopy of one of the newly purchased tents. Sandwiches and biscuits, scones with clotted cream, petit fours and Victoria sponges were stacked neatly on tiered trays accompanied by citrus tea brewing in pots. The scent put everyone at ease as they gathered around. Fall was almost upon them, and the leaves in the trees began to change their hue.

"Never in a million years did I imagine both of our families to share a table," said Ainsworth with a laugh. He began to look worse for wear, and it should have been with the news of Jellie being sent to Lairvania to meet with Prince Lakas, and as much as Ainsworth wished to be with his precious granddaughter, his weary bones would not last the trip, and Mika therefore was absent from their gathering in Ainsworth's place.

"It is all very exciting, isn't it?" he continued. "But surely you did not invite us here simply to have tea.” He shifted in his seat, turning towards Daleon.

“Does the lady of the house have something to say?"

She did not know whether to praise the older gentleman for his keenness, but the looks from the other men at the table were oddly expectant of her. Perhaps because she was the only lady at the table, but she had not an inkling of what they wished to hear from her.

"Well, I suppose I shall tell you," she said, oblivious to their expectations. "The king has requested a ball to be held in his honor. I invited all of you here a little early, to settle in ahead of the other guests we had planned."

She reached her hand out to Gab's. He took it instantly. "And I know it has only been a short window of time, but I wanted Gab and I to see our families again.”

A cacophony of sighs escaped their guests; some relieved, some disappointed. Daleon pretended not to notice.

Fauta raised his cup, gazing at the couple. "In other words, you have not consummated your marriage, have you?"

Gab nearly choked on his tea, spurting some before a fit of violent coughing. Tea spilled from his cup, and Daleon quickly wiped it with a napkin. A maid came to assist.

When things were sorted, Gab sat down and glared at the viscount. "I have only been married a little over a week," he pointed out. Daleon tried to calm him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Gabriel,”

"And even if we had, did it not once cross your mind that she- we would not be expecting such a thing?"

"A week is too long if you ask me,” said Fauta. “You have the diamond of your season as your wife."

"By circumstance!" Gab glanced at her, eyes flickering as he realized what his words may have implied. "Pleasant circumstance. That does not concern you."

The other guests glared at him with disdain. Dancel and Ainsworth especially. Their icy glares almost matched.

"Indeed, it doesn't." Fauta slunk slightly into his seat, sipping the rest of his tea in silence.

"My married life will remain private, and that is all I will say on the matter." Gab was inconsolable at this stage. He clicked his tongue. "Keith,"

The valet approached the table.

"Have the archery range set up. I need to clear my head."

Gab set his tea down with a loud clack, stood up and marched in the direction of the courtyard, west of Esther Hall.

Daleon glared at Fauta, baffled by his audacity, however she was still rather confused by what had transpired. Their marriage was an imperfect subject to discuss, that much was certain. Had she been wrong to believe that it was? No. Gab was more important. Shaking her head, she thought to go after Gab, but Ainsworth stopped her.

"Your grace, might I ask if you would take me further into the gardens?" he said. "There is someone I wish to see."

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who?”

Ainsworth offered Daleon his arm, and together they ventured a little ways ahead from their party. He picked a few daisies along the many rows of blooms, gathering them into a small bouquet.

“I should assume his grace has shown you around?”

“Not the full extent of the gardens, my lord,” she confessed. “But even from the windows upstairs, I can very well see their splendor.”

“Well, I pray my memory is not too faulty, but there is something of significance just by that willow tree.”

Daleon had seen the tree, but she always found its placement odd. From the higher floors, one could see how it stood askew from the rest of the garden. The garden centered around the tree, and the decorative flora stemmed from it as if it were the core of its beauty. Its massive boughs, ominous yet serene, beckoned them closer. Its long tendrils of leaves were perfectly parted, like an entryway into another world. When they neared, Daleon saw stone piercing through the root - a gravestone, and engraved upon it were the names Emily Stewart Driscol and Isaac Driscol.

Despite his wearying age, Ainsworth knelt, and offered the daisies, simply letting them stand on the moss-covered stone. He offered a quick prayer, crossed himself, and stood.

“You must forgive Gabriel for his outburst, and Fauta too for his…spontaneity.”

Daleon approached the stone, gingerly running her fingers along the curves. She thought to send for a servant to clean it. “On the contrary, I think it shows how close they are.”

“Most of my nieces and nephews bore singletons. We agreed it best to bring them all together so they could view each other as brothers and sisters. But Gabriel always preferred his own company, or rather, he preferred the company of adults.” He smiled fondly in memory. “He always used to say we had more interesting conversations, but Emily always said he never understood a word.”

She thought it sad to hear stories about Gab from other people. It was certainly not a crime or something to find flaw in. However; “I do so wish he would be a little more open with me. I want to know what he thinks of me, if I am making him happy…”

Another thought crossed her mind.

“My lord, I find it incredibly ludicrous to ask you something, despite our very brief connections,”

“My child, you may ask me anything.”

“I suppose these words may not fully be credible considering they’re Fauta’s but, what did he mean by ‘consummating a marriage’?”

Ainsworth did not react, though his gaze showed him pondering how to respond.

“Marriage is the physical and spiritual binding between man and woman,” he said. “When you married in church, that completed the spiritual binding. Consummating the marriage is the physical part of it.” His eyes twitched a little, and Daleon did not know if he was unnerved or mortified.

“It is not as easy as I make it sound. Some consummate their marriage on the night of their wedding, but others take their time. Do not doubt Gabriel’s love for you. It is there. It has only chosen to manifest itself differently.”

She worried her bottom lip. “And what if we do not consummate our marriage?’

“That,” he gave her a knowing smile. “Is something you must ask your husband.”

As Daleon tried to fathom what any of it meant, she wondered: had Fauta presented her with an opportunity or a conundrum that could threaten her marriage?

[rere-the-writer]

Can, I have a one-shot where Mother Nature(Elizabeth Reaser) brings Henrik back to life after a month the Mikealsons become Vampires.

To become the first, and only one of his kind a hybrid of a hellhound, and witch. He is a guardian of the supernatural world, and it's his duty to make sure the supernatural world remains a secret to the mortal world by Mother Nature.

So, Henrik realizes he can't back to his family because they will react negatively to his resurrection.

Henrik travels around the world for a thousand years during his duty becoming a legend, and myth to the supernatural world.

So, Mother Nature sends Henrik to New Orleans to take a break from his duty, and relax from serving her faithfully for a thousand years.

Knowing, his family is in New Orleans.

The Mikealsons call him Henrik but his full name is Y/n Henrik Mikealson.

Let's go boys!

Warnings: Fluff, death, Reader being protective big brother, Mikaelsons being protective

A/N: I had too much fun writing this and I think I would do more Mikaelson sibling reader fics. I had so so many ideas for this I apologize for taking so long on this

It was cruel and heartbreaking with the hand you got as you told your younger twin brother that he and Klaus shouldn't see the wolves. But Henrik wanted to as he always loved being around Klaus as he was closest to Kol, Klaus and Rebekah while you were closer to Elijah.

You were the oldest twin of 20 minutes, you were more responsible while Henrik was care free. You were worried so you followed after always taking care of your younger twin as you always looked after Henrik.

"Isn't this great Y/N!?" Henrik said looking in awe of the city as you drove though New Orleans as you got a much needed break. Harbingers of death was what you and Henrik became when Mother Nature brought you both back finding it unfair with how young you both were when you both died.

Over a thousand years you both served Mother Nature faithfully while Henrik wanted to find your siblings. You had to remind him that they might not take it well that you both are alive.

"Yes now Henrik try to stay out of trouble."

"I always do bro." Henrik tells you as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really? Because I swear there is Hellhound/witch that always have to save his twin Banshee brother because he gets hisself into danger."

"Okay okay I get." Henrik laughed as you drove smiling glad that Henrik was happy after one mission was a little rough on him. Then again being kidnapped by witches that tried to drain his magic you didn't think Henrik would bounce back so quickly.

"So many supernatural creatures."

"Yeah....careful the witches will be our biggest problem." You say pulling up to a townhouse you both would be staying in during your little get away.

It took a only a day for Henrik to get into some form of trouble as you both went out to get a few drinks. You were keeping an eye on Henrik as he played pool while you sat at the bar flirting with a vampire named Josh.

"So you always dressed like you are from the 20s?" Josh asked lightly teasing you making you laugh.

"I fell in love with the style." You tell him with a smirk when your ears picked up Henrik's whistle. You and Henrik made up single's to give one another if the other was in danger most of yours was whistle base.

"I need to go." You say rushing out the door leaving behind a confused Josh who followed after you. You found Henrik in an alley about to be bitten by a vampire when you tore his heart out.

"What hell?!"

"Hello gents, I'm Y/N and you have made the mistake of attacking my baby brother."

"Hey! I am not a baby." Henrik said from behind you as your eye glowed red looking at the vampires as they attacked you. The last vampire dropped dead as you stood cleaning your hands with a handkerchief then looked at Henrik.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks bro." Henrik says as you made sure he was alright before taking him home. It didn't take long for word to get out about dead vampires missing hearts and nearly burnt.

"Niklaus, I swear your paranoia is going to get you killed." Elijah said watching the hybrid paced as the others came in annoyed that Klaus had called them while they were busy.

"There is a new threat."

"We don't know that for sure. All we know is the vampires had clearly attacked something stronger."

"Yes and that something is a threat to this family." Klaus tells Elijah who rolled his eyes as the others agreed that Klaus was being paranoid. While they had heard of what happened to the vampires, Elijah was more worried about witches as they were chatting than something big was coming with help of the Ancestors.

"Wouldn't said threat come after us by now?"

"Do not mock me, Rebekah." Klaus growled looking at his siblings as the others still just brushed it off as him be paranoid and focused on the witches.

You walked though the autumn festival watching Henrik closely as he ran ahead looking at all of the stalls. You kept an ear out listening as you didn't trust none of the witches and the vampires were getting on your bad list for attacking Henrik the other night.

Elijah stopped walking when a familiar scent reached his nose one he hadn't smelled in centuries and looked stopping as he felt the air leave him. Elijah felt his eyes water when he saw both you and Henrik and couldn't help but felt like the witches was pulling some kind of trick.

Elijah noted you both hadn't really aged a day and planned to go the witches for answers as he couldn't believe that his baby brothers were alive. Elijah was snapped out of his thoughts when Hayley grabbed his hand.

"Elijah, you okay?" Hayley asked as Elijah looked back finding you and Henrik gone as if you both weren't there in the first place.

"Yes."

You panted having grabbing Henrik when you saw Elijah that he noticed you both which you were quick to grab Henrik to run.

"Why can't we see Elijah? You and he was so close."

"Henrik, I already told you why. They think we are dead and to show up like 'Hello, we are your long dead siblings.' is a bad idea."

"But..."

"Henrik no." You told your brother trying to ignore the pain on Henrik's face and you sighed looking at him. You gave him a soft smile pulling him in a hug feeling Henrik hug back.

"You know I love you right? I just want to keep you safe."

"I know....love you too brother."

That night was chilly as you and Henrik had dinner then headed for bed when you woke to a scream and quickly headed for Henrik's room.

"Fuck." You growled seeing the bed empty then quickly headed to find your brother. You heard another scream and ran killed the vampire that almost touched Henrik.

"Henrik?" You panted kneeling next to him looking seeing a dead body then focused by on Henrik.

"Y/N....where ar....."

"And you said my paranoia was unfounded Elijah." Henrik was cut off by Klaus and you muttered fuck under your breath looking seeing Klaus and Elijah standing there. It happened in a blur making Henrik call out your name when Klaus had attacked you grabbing you by your thoat.

"Who are you?" Klaus growled lowly as your eyes flashed red growling back throwing Klaus back then placed yourself between Henrik and Elijah.

"Don't touch him."

"Y/N....it's okay."

"No Henrik it is not. You saw an omen and not we have to explain to them how we are alive." You tell Henrik as both Elijah and Klaus sucked in breath surprised.

Your older brothers had mixed feelings see you and Henrik alive but all they knew was that their baby brothers were alive. You sighed running your fingers though your hair as Elijah caught a glimpse of the family Crest tattoo on your wrist.

"What did you see Hen?"

"Dad....he tried to kill me. Dad was saying became a monster and was blaming Nik." Henrik tells you making you freeze as you knew of Mikael's need to kill their children thanks to Mother Nature as she made sure that you two stayed out of Mikael's line of slight.

"Y/N?" Elijah whispered his hand on your shoulder as Klaus picked up Henrik see how he was only out dressed in pajamas. You looked up at your older brother seeing his mocha eyes soft filled with worry.

"I can't believe this! Not are our brothers are alive but Mikael as well?!" Rebekah shouted pacing as Elijah was treating the wounds on Henrik's feet while you groaned already annoyed.

"It seems the Ancestors made a deal with our homicidal father." Klaus says pouring a drink as Freya was doing a locater spell to find Mikael.

"I just wanted a vacation not this." You huffed as Henrik frowned looking at you as Hayley came walking in carrying Hope with Jackson close behind.

"What is this I hear that Mikael is alive?"

"Hayley meet our baby brothers Henrik and Y/N." Klaus says ignoring her question as Henrik smiled at her while you had your head back giving her a two finger wave.

"Klaus answer my question!"

"Yes. Not like you could do anything." You said getting Hayley's attention as she passed Hope to Rebekah her eyes flashing.

"I am a hybrid stronger than you witch."

"Hellhound stronger than hybrid." You say not bothered still annoyed as Klaus smirked sipping his drink as Elijah sighed. Hayley huffed sitting down as everyone made a plan to take out Mikael.

After the Mikael mess that leaded to an Esther mess you all headed back to the Abattoir to relax. Henrik sat with Rebekah and Kol telling a story of one of your missions you both went on.

"Yeah Y/N came in and like took out 20 vampires."

"Hen it was only 10." You said eyes closed laying on the couch head in Elijah's lap feeling him run his fingers though your hair much like when you were younger.

"Y/N is being humble about it." Henrik said smiling making you huff as Elijah chuckled still running his fingers through your hair lulling you to sleep.

"Maybe I should take on our baby brother to see if he really is that strong."

"Bring it Nik. I'll beat your ass." You mumbled eyes feeling heavy as Klaus laughed lightly as Elijah smiled gently moving his fingers slower. Henrik yawned feeling tired seeing you fall asleep.

"How about a movie now that everything is calm?"

"Go ahead Freya." Elijah says softly as everyone settled in getting comfortable. The family was together again, finally whole again as Elijah looked to Klaus both silently promised to be sure they wouldn't lose the youngest Mikaelsons again.

[malethirsty]

Loyalty - Alaric Saltzman

Summary: In a time of despair for the former Hybrid host, Klaus decides to have some fun with him, which leads a darker Alaric to ravage you, one beyond control. 

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Daddy Kink, 

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/MaleThirst/status/1202936339643023360

Whilst you had been living it up between Klaus, Tyler, Stefan & Marcel, things had fallen apart back in Mystic Falls. Damon in his alcoholic mess of a state, had sipped on the wine at the Mikaelson Ball and after Esther followed through with staking Finn, he of them bit the dust. Elena & Jeremy were furious and had used Bonnie’s magic to track you to New Orleans, if only they’d known what happened to witches there. Having informed Marcel of Elena’s judgemental behaviour, he had his armed progeny lock her up in the quarter’s dungeons, from the front row seat with Klaus, you saw Jeremy, heartbroken and crying at the sight of Marcel & his allies celebrating his half sister’s fate. You’d feel bad if it wasn’t for how she had you isolated and you were initially relieved that the Gilbert had been dragged away by an eager Kol, catching a few words of what he said as he dragged Jeremy away “Darling stop struggling, you’re gonna love the life I have planned for you.” The relief however was cut short as Kol’s idea of Jeremy’s new life was turning him into a vampire and capitalising on his newfound thirst for blood & sex to start a relationship with his new protege. With newly turned vampires, their need for both was incredibly persistent, and this raised the problem, how were you supposed to do your business with Klaus, Tyler, Stefan & Marcel, when Kol & Jeremy were seemingly attached at the ass every waking moment of the day?

“KEEP IT DOWN!” You yelled down the hall after another fuck with your harem was ruined by persistent loud noise from Kol & Jeremy “Not my fault we’re hot and heavy darling.” Kol sniped back “For Fucks Sake!” You groaned, turning to Klaus, Tyler, Stefan & Marcel, another romantic night ruined. “This is a fucking disaster.” Stefan put simply, “Can’t we do something?” “We can’t exactly ask him to leave.” Tyler pointed out “He’s still Klaus’s brother.” “Well Klaus’s brother is stopping our sex, and I need to fuck Y/N.” “You all do!” You state, trying desperately to stop an argument blowing up “Klaus, do you have any ideas? WITHOUT a White Oak Stake!” You specified, knowing more staking would result in Elijah and Rebekah mutinying. “I do have an idea, but you may not like it.” “At this point, I’m willing to do whatever.” Klaus smirked at your desperation “Y/N, I think it’s time we paid your old crush a visit.” You gulped as Marcel raised his eyebrows to you, intrigued by Klaus’s statement “You sure?” Klaus nodded at your question “It’s time you taught your teacher crush how to worship you like you adored him.” 

Due to Damon death and the sudden disappearance of Elena & Jeremy, Alaric had withdrawn from Mystic Falls & now the lounge of the Gilbert was his domain, sleeping on it almost every night and even for long hours into the day, however today was going to be different for the hunter. Whilst he was in his dreamscape, he heard a voice calling him, “Alaric” it decadently said. “Who’s there?” He responded “Do not be afraid, I have come to offer you what you need: The Gilbert siblings Elena & Jeremy” Alaric looked startled “Where are they, how do you know I need them?” “They’re in New Orleans, kept under lock and key by the Mikaelson empire.” Alaric looked shocked as a “Fuck!” Fell from his mouth “It’s horrible, the sounds that come from the dungeon, lest of all when Kol arrives to see Jeremy! loud cries, lord knows what The Mikaelsons are doing to him!” “You need to take me to him!” Alaric cried out, now starting to panic as the disembodied voice told him of Jeremy’s suffering. Suddenly hands encased him “Calm yourself.” The voice said, moving out of the darkness of Alaric’s head to reveal the speaker: a young woman with chocolate brown hair. “Who are you?” Alaric asked “My name is Davina Claire. I’ve sensed your anguish and have come to save you.” “Like some kind of Fairy Godmother or something?” Alaric questioned, Davina tilting her head “Something like that yes.” At this the hunter began to get nervous “What’s the catch? With your kind there almost always is.” Divina’s head tilted “What’s the matter? Do you always have to think someone has got it out for you? I am merely trying to help, that’s all, nothing else.” Alaric gazed into Davina’s eyes, and finding no trace of malice, let his defences down. “Good, now grip my hands. I will take you safely to New Orleans to free him.” Alaric grabbed onto Davina’s outstretched hands very tightly whilst repeating a vivid incantation. Images began to flash in Alaric’s mind, initially of him and Jeremy, but after a while the images no longer included who he wanted to see. Instead images of beatings, murder, prejudice, expulsion, loneliness, were shown to Alaric, him seeing the events like it was a faded out postcard, Klaus & Y/N eventually melting into these moments, these were their memories. “Let me go!” He growled at Davina attempting to pry his hands away, but they were stuck like glue as Davina repeated her incantation again and again even louder this time. Alaric began to sense what Klaus & Y/N had felt since they had contacted Mikael, Esther, Elena, Damon, Bonnie, Caroline, the angst, the neediness, the anguish, the pain all collided together in one massive hit to the hunter and it filled him with rage, especially knowing he had influenced it “Make it stop! I’ll do anything!” cried Alaric, tears beginning to form, “Anything?” Inquired a familiar voice “Klaus!” Alaric gasped as he turned around to see the grinning hybrid appearing with Y/N, your voice now becoming part of the fray “It’s about time we got on the same level, don’t you think Ric?” 

In Davina’s room, you sat back, watching Davina chant her spell, gripping onto Klaus as he connected outward with Davina, your memories and pain being cast onto Alaric in some type of emotion sharing spell that she had located in her books, whilst you were quiet down in New Orleans, you and Klaus were verbally speaking to Alaric due to the spell, hopefully changing his thoughts on Klaus as a whole. Marcel stood behind Davina, making sure she was safe, as these types of spells take a lot of magic out of a witch, Stefan & Tyler shifted behind Klaus & Y/N, wondering how the spell was going, and if all was working out on getting Alaric to turn sides. They didn’t have long to wait however, soon a swirl of magical energy began in the centre of the room, wind whipping as a miniature looking tornado span out of thin air, yet everyone remained stock still, looking forwards to see Alaric slowly appear in the room. As soon as he became more pronounced, the wind stopped howling, and he appeared in full before everyone. “Y/N?” Alaric searched, and you got up and crossed to him “I’m here Alaric, I’m right here.” Alaric threw his arms around you, hugging you deep, as if to make up for pushing him away after you turned to Klaus. Behind you both, motions continued, Marcel taking Davina back up to her room to properly rest, Stefan & Tyler leaving upon Klaus’s orders to stave off Kol & Jeremy. Soon after everyone had broken away, Alaric let go of you “Y/N is easily happy with a hug but I think I should tell you what I, or rather we” he gestured to you & him “Need from you Alaric. As King of New Orleans, my respect must be earned” Klaus informed him, wanting to test the hunter on his loyalty. Alaric nodded towards the hybrid “What do I have to do?” He asked, to Klaus’s dimply grin “You know what you must do Alaric, I’ve been inside you, I know how much you craved Y/N before I came into the picture, was so hard to control myself and not seduce him for you, have you watch trapped as I exercised the thoughts you stroked yourself to every night, lusting after Y/N like some horny desperate man determined to empty his balls cause his wife left him all alone.” Klaus was standing right in front of Alaric, grin prominent as he controlled the situation, Alaric’s look becoming darker with lust as he took in what Klaus was saying “Follow me Ric” You said, breaking the tension, “We have a lot of catching up to do.” 

Having led him to Klaus’s bedroom and told him to follow where his desires took him, Alaric imparted in you his ideal sexual roleplay, and told you what you needed to do, with Klaus keeping position in a corner, listening out for Kol & Jeremy’s return. Alaric sat down at a desk dragged into the room for him, and wrapped twice on it. Knowing that was your cue to begin, you raised your hand and knocked on the bedroom door “Come in” came Alaric’s voice, and you crossed the threshold with papers “Y/N, what do I owe this visit to?” “Hi Mr. Saltzman, I’m here to drop off my grading papers.” You said, holding up the assorted items in hand, Alaric nodding his head up at you “Ah, set them down on my desk Y/N.” You did so and looked up to catch Alaric’s tired expression, complete with overdramatic huffing “Is something wrong sir?” You asked, him looking back at you “Nothing to be concerned with Y/N, you can go.” But knowing from his briefing that he didn’t want you to leave, you sat down before him “Alaric, you’ve listened to all of my problems and helped me out, the least I can do is the same for you.” Alaric sighed and then said “I’ve been looking for my wife, she ran off a long time ago with some asshole, never told me why, I’ve been trying to track her down and have her at least explain why she left.” You looked sympathetically at him and shortly responded with “Fuck her, any reason she left is shitty, you’re an amazing man Alaric, she was too bound up in her lust for other men to see it.” Alaric looked surprised at you “Why would you say that? You’ve barely known me.” “I know enough of you to know that you are one of the kindest, selfless and hottest men around, anyone would be lucky to have you Alaric, don’t forget that.” Surprised but satisfied at your outburst, Alaric opened his mouth, and then shut it again, processing what he was going to say, eventually settling on “Thank you Y/N, thanks.” You held out your hands to the distressed man and he eventually folded himself into you, hugging tightly, head resting on your neck, you took in the moment, tension simmering but waiting for the right moment to make a move.

As Alaric moved his head to match your eye line so you could gaze clearly into his, aged yet longing in them, and somehow reached the same moment together. You both surged forwards, kissing deeply, you wrapping your hands around Alaric’s neck, soaking in the boldness and warmth of the history buff, him no doubt indulging in the same energy as yourself. Eventually the two of you broke apart, and Alaric looked stated but soon was replaced by a look of shock “I can’t Y/N, you should go.” “Alaric please.” “Y/N go. We can’t work, not like this.” He said in pain, like it was hurting him to release you, the same pain echoing on your face as you slowly turned away, wanting one more glance of the man of your dreams. Eventually you turned around but only made a few steps before you suddenly got turned around, and were met with Alaric again enfolding himself into you, this time leading the kiss. You wrapped your legs around Alaric’s waist this time, as he led you to his desk, depositing you on it as he mapped out your mouth with his tongue, wanting all of you. He soon pulled away with one clear instruction “Take off your clothes.” You rapidly pulled garments off and threw them every which way, your adrenaline peaking once you heard Alaric’s belt clutter as it was disposed of, as you turned back, you saw him removing pants and underwear, his cock springing out, very hard in front of you. You looked up Alaric’s hairy body, falling more in love as you saw your strong man in front of you, all daddyish and seductively horny, a glint of lust in his eyes “Fuck Y/N, on your knees, suck my dick.” The command was short simple and to the point, and as you disappeared from view behind the desk, you took Alaric’s massive cock into your mouth, swallowing him deep. “Oh fuck” He growlishly moaned out “Suck it, like that Y/N, so fucking good for me.” After a while you moved off him, noticing movement behind Alaric and caught a full sight of Klaus across from you both, stroking his cock to the show you & Alaric were putting on. With your confidence growing, you decided to be bolder and so eventually you missed his cock, instead sucking his balls deep, Alaric letting out a lustful cry of “OH” right above you “God Y/N, you’re a fucking master at this, you know every part that aches for you. You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you? wanted me to give into your slutty ways and have you so wantonly and passionately, God damn it Y/N, keep fucking going!” 

You did as he instructed, gripping onto Alaric’s ass for leverage, running your hands down it, also appreciating the hair there as well, Alaric was the daddy type and you were going to relish in the man presented to you. Alaric was right, you’d waited so long, let your thoughts take you to the most horniness of scenarios, and now here was Alaric Saltzman, all for the taking. So indulged were you that you didn’t notice Klaus gripping you and pulling you away from Alaric and straightening you up “I can hear Kol & Jeremy, you better get ready to fuck now.” Taking Klaus’s warning, you knocked the items off the desk as you sprayed across it, Alaric longingly taking in the sight “I guess this is what it all led to, all those long gazes you gave me, the smiles we sent each others way, you improved under my guidance as I cared more and more, and now here we are, about to fuck. Ready for me?” Alaric asked, and you nodded. Lining up his cock with your ass, Alaric thrusted forwards, burying deep as you both let out loud cries of pleasurableness, though in your case pain as you were being stretched out as Alaric became intoxicated by your walls clenching around his cock. “Fuck Y/N, you’re so tight for me, God I’m gonna fucking love this!” He began a smooth pace, getting you used to his length, you looking up at Alaric’s face, utter bliss upon it as he fucked into you. “That’s right Alaric” came Klaus voice “Fuck our Y/N, look at how he’s falling apart for your dick, and this is what you were missing out on whilst you ran off with Elena & her possey.” Alaric growled angrily “Never again, I want you and Y/N right by me.” Klaus appeared behind Alaric, a look of utter lust in his eyes “They’re here, from what I can tell, making out in the hall, now is when we strike.” He gripped both of you and sped you into the wall “Fuck, as loud as you can, let go.” 

It was as if you’d hit a green light and floored the gas, Alaric started to ram in and out as a fast rate, which would alarm any woman he’d fucked before, but you welcomed it with the loudest of moans “Fuck daddy, use me, fuck me hard!” Alaric grinned and grunted as he continued to piston his hips forwards “Fucking tight slut, you wanted this dick, now fucking take it!” All of a sudden, you heard a commotion from the room across from yours, you kept going of course but knew that Kol & Jeremy had heard you both. Having known this could happen, Klaus sped to the door and held it down as it began to buckle forwards from sharp punches on the other side “Niklaus, open this damn door now!” Came Kol’s voice, dripping with anger. “No!” Cried Klaus “You have deprived me of Y/N for far too long Kol, now we’re in control. Y/N is fucking Alaric, and God is it the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen.” Deciding to bury the dagger in deeper you cried out to Kol “Not my fault we’re hot and heavy, darling.” You heard screaming from the other side of the compound which soon vanished, Klaus relaxing from the door “Love, he’s gone, I’m assuming Jeremy ran off, so Kol’s gone to look for him.” You somewhat relaxed, it was understandable, his parental figure was fucking in the room right next to him, of course it would be awkward, but you snapped out of your thoughts as Alaric went deeper, hitting your prostate and making you scream out yourself, only in pleasure instead of pain. “Thank fuck, cause I can’t last much longer” Alaric cried out, “Oh fuck babe, you’re doing so good, daddy’s gonna come soon, so clench around my cock tight!” You did as the older man instructed “How good is it, to take this big dick as a fucking reward for being so good to me?” Alaric questioned “So fucking good Daddy, keep doing it!” Alaric grinned “Of course I will baby, this isn’t going to be a one time fuck, not with this tight fucking hole. Oh fuck, I’m gonna come!” Alaric cried out his blissful release as he shot deep, but somehow kept going, before you realised you had been close but not enough to come at that same moment or before Alaric. No sooner had you thought that, but Alaric fucked in so deep that your tipping orgasm dropped over the edge, you yelling out as you came for Alaric.

You collapsed against each other, sweaty and winded. “Fuck” you got out “I know” grinned Alaric, “Damn Y/N, that was by far the best fuck I’ve ever had.” Knowing you had done better than Isobel, the woman he wifed up built your confidence more, Klaus detecting it, grinned. “You can all come out now.” He said, seemingly to thin air, although you were stunned when Tyler, Stefan & Marcel all popped up out from various spots, Tyler through the door leading to the hallway, Stefan from the wardrobe and Marcel from the landing “That was quite a show” Stefan complimented, “Y/N, you are a fucking hot whore, I’ve missed this side of you” Marcel grinned over at you, “Master, can we?” Tyler said longingly, looking at Klaus for approval. Like a flash, Klaus sped towards you, depriving you of Alaric and flinging you towards the bed, you landing flat. “What the hell?” You shouted, clearly in shock, but your questions were answered before you could ask as a bunch of speedy whirs appeared before you, soon dispelling Klaus, Tyler, Stefan & Marcel as naked as Alaric. “We’ve waited so damn long for this, we’re gonna fuck you so good tonight, so hold on tight love.”

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 19

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Chapter XIX: in which hope is the thing with feathers

A dull sense of sorrow hung over Petra and I as we reversed course back to Verdigris, swirling like a black hole in my chest. The tree branches seemed to hang heavier than before, standing stark and gray despite their new growth. The air between us felt thicker than it ever had, and we spent many of our waking hours in tense silence. Petra’s aura had changed since we had last seen each other; she was more cautious, not so bold and brazen as she had been less than a year ago. Whereas in the past I always saw a glimmer of Basil’s childlike wonder and innocence when I looked in her eyes, now I could only see myself, and it made my stomach churn with guilt.

“Supposedly there’s some sort of provisional government in place right now,” Petra informed me glumly while we made camp one night.

“Yeah?” I glanced over at her from where I was preparing the fire. “You know anything about it?”

Petra shook her head.

“It’s only temporary anyway,” she lamented. “I’m sure that before we know it, things will be back to the way they were before. It’s not like anybody but us knows what actually happened.”

The pessimism was new, I noted. I chose not to press her for more information, and the conversation died out for the rest of the night.

Another day, Petra stalked through the woods alongside me with her shoulders hunched and fists clenched at her sides. She was noticeably on edge, jumping onto the defensive at every rustle of the bushes or passing shadow of an animal. The agonized way with which she carried herself was horrifyingly familiar. And again—there was that nagging pit of guilt swirling uncontrollably in my stomach that screamed you caused this.

“Petra,” I blurted at one point, startling her out of her own head. She glared up at me, but there was no fire in it at all.

“You know none of what happened is your fault, right?” I asked gently. “This is all on me. You did everything you could, and you saved a lot of lives that day.”

While it didn’t completely dissipate, the tension in Petra’s shoulders seemed to soften, if only just a bit. She kicked at a stray pebble in the dirt and shrugged.

“I don’t really think it’s your fault, either,” she admitted, “in retrospect. I was mad that you didn’t come back for months; I thought you just did your damage and disappeared, like you didn’t care.”

“I wanted to come back,” I insisted. “I had a gaping wound in my chest!”

“I know that now,” Petra shot back. “So, I’m not mad. I know who the real enemy is and has always been, trust me. It’s just a lot, for me to process.”

“Believe me when I tell you I understand that completely,” I huffed.

“You know…” Petra shoved her hands into her pockets. “After all this time you still never told me what happened. With Basil, when you were little.”

I shrugged.

“Well, it’s his story,” I pointed out. “If you want to know so bad, ask him yourself.”

 “Do you think he would tell me?”

“Probably not.”

Petra sputtered indignantly and shoved me to the side, grumbling to herself with her arms crossed over her chest. But she didn’t press any further, and the silence that dropped into the gap was warmer than the one that had come before.

A beat passed, and then Petra teasingly asked, “So, can I see the scar?”

"Huh?” I did a double-take and glanced down at her. The playful smirk on her face and the faint flicker of tenacity in her eyes, however infuriating, soothed the swirling unease in my gut just a little.

“What? No.” I shook my head vigorously and turned front.

Petra bust out laughing, bright and clear. I smiled to myself.

Yeah, we’d be alright.

 * * *

  Unsurprisingly, Basil was stunned beyond belief to open the front door and find that I had returned so soon. He joked something like, “When I said you’d be back, I didn’t mean right away,” but something in the way he glanced between Petra and I told me he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Frida welcomed us both with open arms, and once we had introductions out of the way, Petra and I relayed the story over bowls of soup that we barely touched. The entire time, I felt like I was going to be sick with guilt—this must have been evident on my face, as I could feel Basil eyeing me from across the table even as Petra prattled on and her words turned to cotton in my ears.

“Ace?” Petra beckoned, jostling me out of my stupor with her elbow. “Are you okay?”

My stomach lurched. I sucked in a deep breath and looked over; her expression was tight, brow furrowed. My hands were shaking, so I quickly hid them under the table. Basil’s eyes bore holes in my skull. Frida was at the kitchen counter, cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” I replied unconvincingly. “Don’t worry about me, Petra.”

“No thank you, I think I will continue to worry about you.”

“Hey,” Basil called softly from the other side of the table. I looked up to meet his eyes, soft with concern.

“I feel awful and we’re talking about people I don’t know. I can only imagine how much you’ve been bottling up,” he said. “It’s okay to grieve, Ace. I promise.”

Petra reached under the table and slid one of her hands into mine, and that was all it took. Something in my chest ripped open and everything came gushing out all at once until I was sobbing myself raw and ragged in the middle of Frida’s kitchen, with Petra squeezing my hand and Basil rubbing gently at the space between my shoulder blades. Frida wiped my face as I wept, and the three of them remained there beside me without judgment as the grief spilled out of me, until I finally stopped crying and asked Frida if she could make me some tea.

 * * *

  Petra and I returned to our old tricks, helping neighbors with chores in exchange for other favors, or sometimes for nothing at all. Our preferred pastime was working in the community garden, and that spring, we planted several new beds and committed ourselves to single-handedly repairing the weather-worn fence to keep the animals out.

“Do you think the others are okay?” Petra wondered aloud one afternoon, holding a fence stake in place while I hammered it into the ground with another piece of wood.

I paused my hammering and replied, “I would hope so.”

“I worry about them,” Petra mused. “I wonder what Amistadia is like now.”

“To be honest, I’d be scared to find out,” I admitted, straightening up and stretching my shoulders. “I guess I’m still a coward.”

Petra frowned, looking at me curiously.

Then, she said, “You were never a coward,” and did not elaborate as she walked away to grab another wooden stake from the pile.

I often wondered idly about Esther, and whether she’d found peace, and Knife Boy, and whether he’d found what he was looking for. Sometimes, I even thought about Swallow’s Point, and Carita and Marcus and the rest, and wondered if they, too, could change. The nightmares never fully went away, but they became more manageable, and the pangs of grief and guilt I’d been amassing for years slowly faded to a dull ache.

We planted a small herb garden at the back of the garden plot, and I privately dedicated it to Bertrand. It was an apology and a thank you all at once.

As the spring wore on, something akin to hope sprouted wings in my chest and refused to die. Petra and I could be happy here, in Verdigris. And in the summer, we could make raspberry pie, and we could learn to build a new home for ourselves from scratch, and some day, after we had long returned to dust, nobody would ever have to feel like we had felt ever again. It was a faint hope, but it was something, and it slotted itself strong and steady between my ribs.

[writingpaperghost]

The Future is Unsure

I don’t know what this is, I just wanted to write something for Ni No Kuni.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26827171

There was this strange idea that so many people seemed to carry, that one could no longer enjoy the things they used to once they were adults. Children seemed to go through life, expecting that who they were as adults would be nothing like what they were as children. Sometimes that happened, sometimes it didn’t.

But Oliver never understood why everyone expected it would. Perhaps it was just because she was hesitant to leave it all behind. There was change to who he was, sure. But it wasn’t really when he was an adult. There wasn’t an exact moment, but he could narrow it down quite a bit. When he was thirteen, after his mother died. After he came to the other world and learned the truth about his mother.

He couldn’t say exactly when, but if he had to say, it was probably just after leaning the truth, when Pea showed him everyone he helped. Whatever the reasoning was, though, whenever it might have occurred, Oliver had changed. It was for the better he was certain, now he strove to help as many people as he could.

Sometimes, he still pulled the Wizard’s Companion and Astra - or any one of the wands he had - out from their hiding spot. He could still use a few spells in his world, mainly Take Heart, Give Heart, Healing Touch and Healing Hand, and of course, Gateway, among a few others. But he wasn’t the kind of person to get hurt all that much, at least nothing that would really need magic. So there was never any reason he would need magic, unless he was going to visit the other world.

As he got older, though, it became harder for him to visit. His time was taken up more and more and soon even his summers were busy. He wished it wasn’t that way, though. He missed being able to spend more time with his friends.

He missed visiting Esther and seeing how she became such a good creature caretaker, taking care of familiars when their masters were away or had died. He missed visiting Swaine and Marcassin, seeing how close they were, somehow managing to find trouble with Swaine. He missed seeing Mr. Drippy and he missed visiting Cassiopeia in the Ivory Tower. He missed all his friends.

Yet Oliver couldn’t fully leave behind either world. He’d miss Phil, Myrtle, and everyone else in Motorville, but when he was there he also missed his friends in the other world. He never really knew what he wanted, when it came to those matters.

“Oliver,” Myrtle called him out of his thoughts, one day. It was, by all means, an average day. It was summer, before Oliver would begin studying at college,  and the sun was shining as it often was. Oliver had been trying to find time to visit his friends over in the other world, but was struggling.

“You’re so deep in thought,” Phil noted, looking up from some notes of his. They had so many setbacks, but he and Oliver were so close to their dream. Or at least, it felt like they were. “What are you seeing about?”

Oliver looked up them from where he was sitting on the floor. It was weird, they knew he was a bit odd, but they never seemed to fully believe him about magic. But they never said they didn’t believe him. They just sort of went along with it. So Oliver wasn’t really sure how to respond, “I was thinking about how to find time to visit some of my friends.”

Myrtle tilted her head, “Those friends of yours from outside of Motorville?”

“Yeah,” He leans his head back, “I miss being able to see them as much as I used to.”

Phil turned back to working, “I guess that’s just a thing that happens.”

Oliver shrugged, though he wasn’t so sure. Was it just something that happens? His situation was unique compared to some, but at the same time rather similar. Just he had another world and magic thrown in.

---

The weather in Al Mamoon was, as it almost always was, hot and sunny. It was in a desert after all. Oliver had finally found time to visit, immediately going to Al Mamoon to visit Esther. After that, he go to Hamelin, but for now, he had to go see Esther.

He found her not too from her father’s babana stand, watching as some of the children played with the creatures in her care. Like Myrtle, Esther had grown, though she was still taller than him, it wasn’t by as all that much. He waved to her, catching her attention rather easily.

“Oliver!” He waved back, walking over to meet him. She was smiling, though she kept an eye on the creatures and the children. “You finally came to visit again.” Though it sounded harsh, her tone was playful, she was glad that he had came.

He rubbed the back of his head, “I had to find time when I could come and visit.” He added, “It’s getting really hard.”

Esther nodded, “Well, I’m glad you came.”

Oliver couldn’t help but agree.

---

When Oliver arrived in Hamelin, he barely made it halfway to his destination when someone ran into him. (Un)Surprisingly, the one who ran into him was Swaine, most likely avoiding having to in anyway do work that wasn’t tinkering.

“Oh! Oliver!” Swaine exclaimed, cheerful, though his voice was in a sort of hushed voice. He was clearly trying not to draw attention to either of them. Most of Hamelin knew he had some connection to Marcassin, though they didn’t know what exactly, and nearly everyone in this world knew of Oliver. Oliver had, after all, saved the world, not once, but twice, at least as far as most were concerned. “I thought I heard you were coming to visit.”

“Yep!” Oliver smiled, “I’m glad I finally found time, it’s good to see you Swaine.”

Swaine returned his smile, “Yeah, it’s great to see you.” He looked around, “If you can’t guess, I’m avoiding work.”

With a laugh, Oliver innocently asks, “Aren’t you always avoiding work when I come to visit?”

Swaine chuckled a bit, then shrugged, “I’m taking time off so I can spend time with you,” Though it seemed like he was simply coming up with a excuse, but Oliver could tell he was genuine. He knew that Swaine liked having Oliver around. Oliver liked being around Swaine, Esther, and Marcassin, they were all like family to him. Swaine was probably the closest thing to a father he’d ever had, Esther was like a sister, and Marcassin an uncle. It was hard to say what exactly Mr. Drippy was like to him, but Oliver knew he was family too.

“Right,” Oliver laughed as well, “Well I like spending time with you too. All of you, really.”

---

Oliver tried to make sure every time he visited the other world, he also went to the Ivory Tower and visit Cassiopeia. He wanted to make sure he did whatever he could so she wouldn’t feel lonely again. She didn’t get many visitors, though people had certainly forgiven her. The reason for that, though, was simply how hard it was to get to the Ivory Tower. Unless you were a wizard who knew how to cast Travel, you needed something to fly in on.

Though he didn’t have all that much time to visit, he still found the time to see her. He thought about just using Travel to get there, but he decided against it. He wanted to see Tengri and experience flying again, who knows when he would have the chance next.

The biggest thing you might notice about the Ivory Tower, was that it was, well, big. So big, in fact, that Oliver still hadn’t been able to make a very good map of it. So trying to find Cassiopeia at any given time was a bit hard.

Every hall, as they had been since they saved Cassiopeia, was filled with flowers. Red flowers, blue flowers, yellow flowers, white flowers, and so many more. As Oliver wandered, searching for Cassiopeia, he saw so many flowers. He liked to see them and he was glad that Cassiopeia was happy now.

After a while, he finally found her, in one of the gardens, planting more flowers. She looks up when she hears his footsteps, smiling when she sees who it was. “Oliver! You’ve come to visit.”

Oliver waved, walking over to her, “I always try to visit you when I come here.” He glanced around, looking at all the flowers. “Your flowers look as pretty as ever, I see.”

Cassiopeia smiles at him, laughing slightly, “I’m glad you enjoy them.”

Sitting down beside her, Oliver smiled, “I feel like anyone would enjoy them.” He tilted his head, “Anyone can see how pretty they are.”

They sat in a nice silence, for a while. After what was probably an hour, Cassiopeia finally spoke up, “Oliver, something’s on your mind, isn’t it?”

Oliver looked up at her, “Yeah, I guess.”

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, Oliver explained, “I miss being able to visit all of you as much as I did. But I keep finding myself more busy and having less time.”

Cassiopeia looked over at him, thoughtful. Her expression shifted to a small smile, “Even if you’re busy, we all know you’ll find time. You’re our friend, so though you may not always be able to be here, we know you won’t forget about us.”

Shaking his head, Oliver added, “No, it’s not that... It’s just... I don’t know what to do.” He fiddles with the edge of the cape he wore, “I want to be able to spend more time here. It’s not that I’m afraid that you all will forget about me, it’s just that I miss being able to spend time with all of you.”

Cassiopeia tilted her head, seemingly unsure how to respond or what to say. Finally, she says, “I’m not sure how to help you.” Then she handed him a flower, “But I’m sure whatever you do, you’ll be happy so long as you follow your heart.”

Oliver considered her words, “Follow my heart...” He echoed quietly, “I guess you’re right.”

[midnight-moonlight-and-mars]

Windowpane Pt. 5

Warnings: None

A/N: This going to be set up like a typical CW show romance. Intro - tension - danger - realizing feelings - getting jealous of each other - fight -powerful get together. Also, I will try to write better with this one, the last one was a bit rushed.

Pairings: Eventual Klaus x Reader

Klaus loosened his grip around Y/n’s waist and slowly helped her stand upright, never breaking eye contact. Although she was upright and stable, Klaus couldn’t seem to let go of her. Y/n couldn’t seem to pull away either nor did she want to.

After a moment of heaving and sensual and dramatic eye contact, Y/n finally spoke up.

“Um, my name is uh Y/n...”  she said shakily trying to hold out her hand not knowing what else to say or do. His presence was so... present.

“Klaus” He muttered softly taking her hand into his. He slowly led Y/n to the lounge next door and invited her to sit on the couch near the window.

Klaus gently placed himself beside her forgetting to let go of her hand. For a moment the silence was comfortable. At this point they were just getting comfortable in each other’s presence trying to calm the static energy between them. When the air had settled between them it was Y/n’s turn to speak.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. For some reason we always missed the opportunity to meet. It’s funny how when we finally come in contact and get talking it starts off in your bathroom...” she smiled at the irony of the situation and blushed when she realized she was still holding his hand.

“I suppose that’s interesting because I’ve heard nothing about you. It seems my family has a lot to say these days. Good things I hope?” Klaus seemed a little annoyed at his family for this but he was curious about Y/n’s initial impression of him.

“They just told me about who were and what you were, sometimes tell me what you were so busy doing every time I came over. From what I hear you seem nice but I can tell your family has quite the dynamic.” Y/n said trying to lighten the mood with mild humor.

“How observant of you.” Klaus chuckled and leaned in close “They are all pains in my arse that refuse to go away and to my objection live with me.” They both laughed at this. 

Klaus had stood up to pour two glasses of scotch from the corner table which led him to let go of her hand. Honestly, Y/n was a bit disappointed but she could use a drink.

While pouring he spoke, “Now enough about me. Let’s hear about the mysterious Y/n. I’ve seen out and about outside that very window but I didn’t know your name ‘till about 10 minutes ago. I did have some of that pie you had brought over. Amazing by the way.” Klaus brought over the glasses and placed it on the table.

The window... The window that brought all of this together. This is where the mystery figure was. Y/n could feel the energy radiating from it. It gave her chills thinking about it

“Thank you. Well the first thing you should know about me is that I’m a witch.” Y/n said trying to freak him out, or worse, lose his trust.

Although Y/n was careful, this made Klaus nearly choke on his scotch. He slowly set the glass down and Y/n felt that feeling churn up a storm in her stomach.

“I see. And what business does a witch have in my house? With my family?” Klaus asked quite curtly as some sort of accusation. She could tell he was a bit angry but he was willing to hear her out.

“Nothing. I honestly mean no harm. I just wanted to introduce myself. I didn’t know you or your family were vampires until this evening I swear.” Y/n said trying to contain her erratic heartbeat.

"Of course because witches never mean harm to anyone ever! Do you hear yourself?" Klaus laughed madly which scared Y/n, but she didn't feel threatened or scared. She felt hurt.

Her eyes welled with bitter tears as he continued laughing and muttering to himself as he poured himself another glass of scotch.

"I would never hurt you." Y/n said softly stifling more tears. She didn't know why she was sensitive all of a sudden. She's heard a lot worse from people she was much closer to, but when he said those things it hurt so much worse.

Klaus took a pause. That feeling washed over him along with guilt. He knew she was no danger to him or his family, but maybe she knew why this feeling haunted him. And maybe explain the softness in his heart for her.

"I know. I apologize for suggesting otherwise. But what about your witchy friends? Will they be a problem?" He said softly trying to ease how visibly tense she became.

"No... My family abandoned me when I was young without any explanation. I grew up on an orphanage for most of my life but everything on this estate belongs to me so I just moved in when I was old enough. I put this house on the market so I could make money off of it. I fixed everything up with some money I had leftover. So I am the only witch I know. And you the first vampire I have ever met."

This shocked Klaus a little. She had spent most of her life cut off from her family, her coven, and the supernatural. If Y/n was going to be a part of his life in any way, she would be exposed to everything at once. Would she stick around after everything? Would she even want him anymore?

"Well I am glad to hear it, love. I hear I can make quite the impression on people. Hopefully I won't scare you away... I have that effect on people." Klaus smiled.

"You don't scare me. In fact, I'm glad I met you. You and your family have been so kind to me its a comfort to know that people I can actually trust live just down the road. I was afraid that we wouldn't get along or you would try to kill me but you haven't. Despite what people say and think of the Mikaelsons, I have seen something completely different." Y/n was pouring her heart out this point and was genuine. She really did trust them and enjoyed their company. Especially Nik's.

"Give it time love you might rethink that." Klaus said seriously praying she wouldn't.

An hour passed of chatter and stories. Time seemed to pass so fast because of how much they were enjoying each other's company. In the midst of their laughter the door swung open with a large rush of wind.

Standing in doorframe stood a woman unfamiliar to Y/n, but annoyingly familiar to Niklaus. Esther.

Rushing to between Nik snd Y/n Esther stood ground and said "Get away from my son witch and stay away from my family!"

To be continued...

Part 4!                        Windowpane Masterlist                      Part 6!

Taglist

@vampiregirl1797 @woodworthti666 @lovelydivs

[darling-blurbs]

The Cyro Archon is interesting so I’m developing her into my own character until I finish genshin impact. Let it be known when the Cyro Archon actually appears and her story comes to light, I’ll just fix the story a bit. Ok? Ok

So her name is going to be Esther since most of the gods use their vessels names even though Esther is actually her name before she became a god.

Her powers are like Elsa’s. She doesn’t have total control when she is overly emotional so when she was heartbroken, she hardened herself. Onto more of the story part of my character.

“I’m the- was. I was the Love Archon but I was not meant to be that. How can someone be the Archon of something they can’t even do right?”

The Archon War (I haven’t gotten to the reason for it so I’m making stuff up a bit here) was there. Esther hung out with a certain god for years before this. Ever since they were young. Esther was the daughter of the current Cyro Archon so when her father decided to leave for the war, she did as well. Leaving her palace in the sky to see her friend again only to see her crush falling for a mere mortal. She was fine with it for the moment thinking that it was only going to be fleeting but once the god took the boy as a vessel, she was furious and heartbroken to a point where her body started to grow ice patch’s to contain her fury. She had part of a fire in her. One of her parents had a Pyro vision so her power more was conflicting with each other to a point where she exploded.

She killed many civilians that day and even her parents were killed in her rage. The archons ran while she withered in pain. She hated them but over the 500 years, she forgave them for their pieces. One she didn’t forgive was the bard. She still loved him. After all the Love Archon cannot stop loving the Archon of the one thing she wanted to have most of in the world. She turned cold though. Hateful. Her heart never opened up again other times few others. Childe, Hat Kid (as she called him) and the rest of the Harbringers were her confidents. She confided in them about her hate for the bard which translated to one of her female harbringers to almost murder him

The lovely mondstadt festival. The one day in the year that both of the Archons think of their lost lover. For the Cyro Archon, she watched the bard from a distance and giggled when he did his love advice remembering when he used to listen intently when she talked about the concept. What she didn’t know was that the Anemo Archon knew she was there. Her aura was always familiar but he was too scared to find her and didn’t know who her vessel was. Later, in the end of the event if the traveler walks into the tavern after midnight there will be a cutscene. Venti is seen laughing with others and the traveler when someone walks in. No one notices other than paimon. The figure looks at the group under their hood and a smile crosses their face before putting a bag of mora on the table saying to pay the bards bill and it’s from an old friend. Once the figure is at the door, they turn around and puts their hand on the frame. Paimon can see their features. Icy blue eyes that seem In love with the said bard. Ice creeps up on the place where their hand was put before walking out of the door.

Immediately when the door closed, paimon starts to shake the traveler as the man working the bar shouts out. “Your mysterious friend bought your tab again Venti! You gotta tell her to stop someday!”

Venti seemed to sober up fast and run out the door. There stood the cloaked figure whose back is turned. The wind starts to pick up as it got more cold seem by how the townspeople started shivering and puffing out white clouds. The figure looked up at the moon before Venti spoke up.

“You don’t have to do that anymore.” The figure chuckles.

“The moon looks pretty tonight don’t you think...” she pauses before saying “Barbotos?”

She turned and her icy blues met his green eyes. His seemed lost and desperate while hers looked at him like one would look at a boy who slipped from their grasp.

Paimon gasped as they stared each other down. “Why would you do that Esther-“ “don’t call me that. You don’t deserve that title to call me by.” The figure stood her ground. “Did you make this festival to rub in the heartbreak?” She laughs under her breathe. “You even took the mortal’s skin! Is that how you wanted to turn me down? Say you didn’t want a relationship because you didn’t want the ties but fall for a mere mortal after fighting with them for a day?”

The air got worse with every passing second. The wind was slowing down with Venti’s sadness but the cold was getting unbearable. “I didn’t do that. I would never leave you!” Venti tried to contradict but was only met with more laughter.

“When my father died, you only cared about the well-being of everyone else! You didn’t even come and find me-“ “That’s because I didn’t know who your vessel was! This festival was going to be a gift for us but you decided to try and end the world!”

The figure’s feet was freezing the streets before she breathed. “This was a mistake. I should have never came back here.” She spun around and started to walk away. A portal opened up but Venti screamed wait.

She turned around. Her icy eyes steeled. The smile and anger gone from her features. Only the stoic female remained. “Don’t leave me again.”

“You left me,” she said before turning to the portal and abyss mages appeared as the portal closed.

Kaeya watched her leave as well as the traveler come in the tavern dejected. “Im guessing Venti didn’t tell you anything and just said he wanted to sleep? Of course he is protecting her still. Sometimes I think their just both oblivious.”

“What happened? No better question. Who was that?” Paimon asked.

Kaeya chuckled. “The person you just met was Venti’s ex lover. Someone he was dumb enough to lose. The Cyro Archon.”

The traveler gasped as well as Paimon. “That’s the person trying to kill us? The world for that matter?”

Kaeya glared at the flying fairy. “Watch your mouth pixie. She is my- close friend. I do a lot of spying for the inside and everytime I’m there, I realize that heartbreak can do a lot to a person. If we would destroy the world for the person that held our hearts, what would one do if they shattered it and stomped on it?”

Kaeya is actually part of the Cyro Archons army. He fell for the young goddess and actually is on both sides because he supports both side of the story.

[poppys-writing]

The Missionaries, Part 1

A/N: new Box Boy series here, but this time it’s more caretaker/comfort centric! I hope you all will enjoy this new take on the Box Boy universe and whump in general. Once again, credit goes to @sweetwhumpandhellacomf and @shameless-whumper for creating this wonderful sub-genre of whump that continues to thrive. Thanks for reading and feel free to check out my masterlist!

Noah woke up to the same rattling of the tiny, rusty plane, dark clouds hanging ominously outside the plane window. He thought that the headache would disappear with a long nap, but it was still as bad (if not worse). Looking across the aisle was Ruthie, who was awake when he fell asleep and was still awake now, her leg tapping incessantly into the metal floor and her hands fiddling nervously with her coat. “You nervous?” He hollered across the aisle to her; the drone of the plane along with the deafening engine made him worry that she wouldn’t even be able to hear him. 

She jumped, apparently freaked out by his voice. Her head snapped to face him, her gentle brown curls whipping around even though they were secured in a ponytail. Nonetheless, she flashed him a wide smile, though her eyes didn’t sparkle with joy like they usually do. “No, no, not at all,” she reassured him with a nod. “Why do you ask?”

He held her gaze for a moment, considering pointing out her fidgety behavior, but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t want to be rude. “Uhh, no reason,” he quickly dismissed, a couple of chuckles escaping as he moved to rub the back of his neck. “I’m a little bit nervous,” Noah lied. He wasn’t nervous at all. Should he be? 

“Oh, you are?” Ruthie returned back, head cocking to one side. She could see right through his lie; Noah never gets nervous, even when he should be. They’re going to a foreign country, serving for the first time as medical aid, even though they haven’t become doctors yet. In addition to that, they’ll be in one of the biggest human trafficking hubs in the world for two months, treating the victims of the beast that will be breathing down their neck. Yeah, he should be worried about that. “Well you have no reason to be freaked. It’ll be a good experience!” Ruthie lied through her teeth. 

Before Noah could get another word in, Ruthie turned back to the window to gaze out at the ominous clouds and overthink everything, effectively ending the conversation. So, without any vocal company, Noah decided to gaze at the empty seats of the plane and imagine the companions they could’ve had. Sophie, Tyler, Jonathan, Mary, Rebecca, Elijah and Esther, Cindy, Jane, Rob and Will. So many of their friends that were supposed to accompany, but all dropped out for various reasons. Mary didn’t have time or money to get the appropriate vaccinations; Tyler, Esther and Cindy couldn’t raise enough money to go and had to work over the summer anyways; Sophie, Jonathan, Rebecca, Elijah, Jane and Rob’s parents all wouldn’t let them go because they thought the trip would be “too dangerous.” Noah didn’t blame them; with human trafficking statistics rising by the day in Belarus and travel advisories announced, he considered not going too. But, Ruthie coming from a family of turn-or-burn preachers and missionary leaders, her parents refused to let her back out of it. Ruthie even offered to request a transfer to somewhere a bit safer than Belarus, but her parents insisted that she finish what she started. There was no way Noah could let her go halfway across the world by herself, so he stayed on, suppressing his nerves once again to go into the belly of the beast. 

So now it’s the two of them. Ruthie’s a nice gal. Being in the same friend group in college, they got along and enjoyed one another simply due to mutual friends, but never became close and drifted even further apart during medical school. Leading up to the trip, they went out to lunch and hung out and studied together so they could bond before spending the next two months in a dangerous foreign country together. In that time, Noah discovered her to be nicer than he thought, funnier than he expected, and cuter than she was before.

The plane began its decent into Minsk, the capital and only city with an international airport. The dark clouds and turbulence broke to the city covered in a steady rain that drummed against the plane windows. From the sky, the Stalinist architecture evidently hasn’t been touched up in decades. Still, there was something beautiful about the tall, dreary buildings. The dark windows held the ups and downs of millions of people: mothers bringing home their child, businessmen saving their company, marriages that fall apart, loved ones that pass on, and also hundreds of thousands of people involved one way or another in the Box Boy industry. 

Since the Box Boy and Babe industries had been outlawed in the United States almost six years ago, the American government cracked down on human trafficking so hard that the industry had to completely relocate out of red, white and blue borders. Minsk being a major hub even prior to the U.S. breakdown, it was naturally the next best choice. On the bright side, human trafficking in North America became virtually nonexistent. On the down side, Noah and Ruthie are now in the heart of it all once more. 

The plane landed, emptying out its two Americans and their luggage and moving on to pick up some other human cargo. Who would be the next people sitting in their seats? Box Boy moguls, or Box Boy victims? Noah shuddered at the thought, lugging his bag across the slick tarmac towards a van with the familiar Christian Missionary Alliance symbol plastered all over its side. As they sauntered across the runway, which seemed to get longer with every step, Ruthie and Noah could feel the eyes of the ground controllers and travelers following them. Some of them were angry and disdainful, while others were hopeful and trusting - hopefully they’d encounter more of the latter once they get to the mission house. 

Ruthie and Noah loaded their bags into the back of the van, piling in and shedding their raincoats. Ruthie’s ponytail had frizzed up in the rain, poofing out in every direction. Stop staring, Noah internally scolded himself, but it was too late. Their eyes met again, but this time he was inches from her face - he could see the honey-colored flecks littering her brown eyes, watch her dimples form as she smiled back at him. Does she have a boyfriend? Maybe he should ask that once this whole don’t-get-human-trafficked thing is over. 

The van lurched into motion, Noah and Ruthie lurching along with them. A little laugh escaped her lips as she clutched on to Noah’s arm for stability, while he reached for the handle above to secure the both of them. Even after the ride got steadier, Ruthie still clutched his arm. 

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the driver turned around and flashed the both of them a toothy smile, a gold tooth barely visible. “Welcome to Belarus!” he warmly greeted them with a thick slavic, even though they had been riding in the car for a while now. “We go pick up for other missionaries, then drive. You’ll be settled by dark.”

Casual conversation commenced until the van turned into the parking lot of a run down motel. Three missionaries from Spain, a couple from Germany, and two friends from Australia piled into the rickety old car. Polite greetings were exchanged and all got settled in for the couple hour drive to the house.

Minsk rolled by Ruthie’s window, the business-centric neighborhood that the airport was surrounded by turning residential. With that shift came what she was dreading: the Box Boys and Box Babes. Back home, when it was legal, she still became nauseated at the sight of a human being owned by another human being, and she didn’t even see it that much publicly in small town Idaho. Here, however, it seemed to be commonplace. Some men or women were leashed - leashed! - to powerful looking men and women that strode through the streets like they owned the place. Some girls trailed behind men with nasty grimaces, keeping their head down and hands folded in front of them. Some boys walked beside women with large heels and an entourage. It was disgusting. Absolutely revolting. Apparently west coast mega cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco were just like this, but by the time Ruthie made it there the business was already outlawed. How did the United States even legalize this? How could anybody legalize this? Ruthie wanted to pound of the windows, to jump out of the van and shout at everyone for their tolerance of this injustice. Instead, she let tears well in her eyes, clinging tighter to Noah’s arm.

Noah wasn’t looking out of the window just for that reason. He kept his eyes focused on his hands in his lap, or his watch, or just closed them. He already knows what it looks like, and he’d rather not see it again. When he felt Ruthie clutch at his arm even tighter, he nudged her with his shoulder to get her attention away from the window. It worked, and she quickly turned her head towards him, frantically rubbing away tears. “You okay?” Noah posed, careful to keep his voice down.

“I don’t know,” Ruthie shrugged, trying her best to smile at him. She does that. Instead of being sad, she decides to smile - it doesn’t really work all the time. “It’s just...I’d only heard about it, never actually seen what it looks like until now. It’s bad, Noah, this is really bad.”

Noah sadly nodded his head. Oh, if only she knew the worst of it. Sweet Ruthie with her naive small-town mindset. He wouldn’t trade her for the world, but sometimes he wished he could tell her the truth without ruining her endless joy and kindness. “I know, I know. We’re here to help though, don’t forget that,” he tried to reassure her. Noah’s not the best at comfort - since he rarely gets nervous, he doesn’t know how to deal with this fearful emotions.

“Hopefully our help is enough,” Ruthie responsed, casting her head down towards her hands instead of outside the window.

Noah surveyed the bus, just like he surveyed the plane. This bus was supposed to be filled with their closest friends, all journeying together to fight the evils of man and heal those who had fallen victim to corruption. Hopefully this van will be filled at all when the mission ends.

[madlori]

Unveiled - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Epilogue

by MadLori Word Count: 2800 Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin Rating: NC-17 (like, heed this, please) Tags: Arranged Marriage, Modern Royalty AU, Mpreg, Not Omegaverse, No Consent Issues, Veiled Sex, Weird Traditions, Don’t Think Too Hard, Handwavey Biology

Definitely sex in this one.

Zhenya gets to know Sidney a little more, and enjoys some more intimate time with his consort. 

Read it on AO3

The next day’s 3:00 p.m. appointment was just as satisfying as their first. Zhenya entered the bedchamber to find his consort waiting for him, veiled as before, except instead of sitting primly, he was already stretched out on his side, looking relaxed and even...eager. He’d reached up to help Zhenya off with his dressing gown and pulled him down to the bed. Zhenya had lain between his legs to enter him this time, pushing his thighs back against his chest to spread him wide. The consort had wrapped those thick legs around Zhenya’s waist, pulling him closer and placing his hands on Zhenya’s chest, and Zhenya had come so hard he feared the top of his head had blown off. Afterwards, he’d slid down and taken his husband’s cock in his mouth to bring him to orgasm, his hands in Zhenya’s hair, tightening into fists when he came.

Over the next few days, life began to settle into normalcy. Matters of state demanded Zhenya’s attention, but he would not hear of missing their appointments -- it certainly made an excellent excuse for getting out of boring meetings. Several times he saw his husband walking on the grounds or inside the palace, always heavily draped and always accompanied by his guards. On two occasions, those guards included his midnight snack friend Sidney, looking sharp and handsome in his uniform -- he also had a spectacular ass, Zhenya couldn’t help but notice. What was in the water over there in New Scotland that it produced so many handsome and well-proportioned men? All of his husband’s male guards were excessively pleasing to look at -- the female guards were, as well, but Zhenya took less notice of them, as they were not to his taste. The second in command of the guard, Lieutenant Letang, looked like an Instagram model.

It only whetted Zhenya’s appetite further to know what his husband looked like beneath his drapings and veils. He hoped fervently for him to conceive, so that the countdown to their embargo’s end could begin and they could anticipate his unveiling together.

---------

On the fifth day after his marriage, Zhenya went to the stables after breakfast, for no real reason other than to visit his horses and perhaps brush them, an activity he found soothing. When he arrived, he found Sidney there, standing at a stall and feeding apple slices to Lady Esther, a sweet-natured gray mare, cooing to her softly and stroking her neck. She looked quite besotted, which Zhenya could understand. Sidney looked up when Zhenya entered but did not snap to attention, merely smiled in greeting. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” he said. 

“Good morning,” he said, mildly confused to find him there.

“I hope you don’t mind my visiting your stables,” he said. “I love horses and miss the ones I had to leave behind in New Scotland.”

“I don’t mind.” Zhenya said, picking up a brush. “I’m sure they will appreciate the extra attention.” He went into Admiral’s stall and began brushing him. “You grew up with horses?”

Sidney hesitated for a moment. “I started out working as a groom on the Duke and Duchess’s estate, that’s how I met His Highness. I was a good rider in my youth and nearly became competitive, but...it didn’t work out.”

Zhenya didn’t press the matter. “You’re welcome to ride here.”

Sidney looked up at him. “Really?”

“Of course. Except for Admiral, he is mine. All the other horses are for the use of the palace residents and staff. The grooms can advise you on which horse might suit you.” He smiled. “Lady Esther might be a little tame for your taste.”

Sidney stroked her nose. “She’s a sweetheart. That’s my taste.”

Zhenya made a quick decision. “Care to go for a ride now?”

“Could we?” Sidney said, wide-eyed.

“Sure. I have a little free time, if you have.”

“I’m not back on duty until after lunch.”

“Then let me show you my favorite trail.”

The grooms saddled Admiral and Lady Esther -- Sidney could not be dissuaded -- and they rode out towards the lake.

“It’s beautiful here,” Sidney said, after a few minutes’ silence.

“It is. I’m so used to it, it’s useful to be reminded.” He glanced over at his companion’s strong profile. “What does New Scotland look like?”

“It’s on the water, quite rocky. It has its own beauty, but here it feels...wider.”

“You miss it.”

“In a way. It’s where I was born and raised. But there comes a time when you want something new.”

Zhenya sighed. “I wouldn’t know. I am bound to this land, by blood and law. I may visit other places, but here is where I was born and where I shall die.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t your brother the crown prince? He’s older, is he not?”

“Yes, he is. My brother was unwilling to go through the embargo. He abdicated his claim to the throne many years ago.”

“He was...unwilling?”

“He has taken a calling to orders, which disqualifies him from being King.”

“I see. And you felt no such calling?” Sidney’s voice was cautious.

“My faith is what you might call...performative.”

Sidney grinned. “A heathen King?”

Zhenya laughed. “Don’t spread that around. I respect that it’s important to many of my citizens, although I know there are many who wouldn’t care. Sometimes I feel dishonest, to go through the motions for their benefit, but I must weigh my conscience against the health of my reign.”

“But you believe in the embargo.”

“The embargo may have the trappings of a matter of devotion, but in reality it’s a practical consideration, not a religious one. It began as a sacred rite, but now it’s more a cultural practice.”

Sidney nodded. “That’s well-put.”

“My husband is more...devoted, is he not?”

He glanced at Zhenya. “What makes you think so?”

“His strict observance of the embargo.”

“As you say, the embargo is more cultural than religious.”

“So he is not? Religious?”

“You’d have to ask him, once you’re allowed. But I would say...casually? Observing the holidays, and such.”

“Ah. In that we are similar.” They rode in silence for a few minutes. “A question of my own, if I may?”

“Of course.”

“You seem very...comfortable with me. Informal, even. I don’t mind -- in fact, it’s refreshing -- but it’s not an attitude I often encounter.”

Sidney shifted in his saddle and looked away, seeming a bit uncertain how to answer. “I apologize if I presume too much on such a short acquaintance.”

“I said I didn’t object. You are not one of my subjects, after all. You report to the consort.”

“Perhaps it’s my long acquaintance with him that’s to blame. I’ve grown accustomed to a casual manner with those far above my station. He encourages such familiarity from those around him.”

“It’s been my observation that those who insist on strict etiquette and become angry when the trappings of rank aren’t observed to the letter are those who are insecure in their station, and need people to bow and scrape to them to bolster their self-image.”

Sidney laughed. “That’s your observation, eh?”

“Do you disagree?”

“Not at all, I’m just surprised to hear a Crown Prince say so. But it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve surprised me, Your Royal Highness.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke the title, and Zhenya felt a guilty flutter in his stomach. Sidney beamed a wide smile, and the flutter became a full on gut-twisting wrench -- the man had the most beautiful smile Zhenya had ever seen.

-------

The next morning, Sasha was lurking around Zhenya’s quarters, polishing shoes, while Zhenya sat reading his morning dispatches and having his tea. “You went riding with that guard yesterday,” Sasha said.

“What of it?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just...you know how tongues wag around here.”

“What is there to wag about?”

Sasha gave him an are you serious look. “He is exceedingly good-looking.”

“Is he? I hadn’t noticed.” He stared at Sasha and silently dared him to call him a liar.

Sasha just shrugged. “If you wanna fuck him, then fuck him. That guy’s a four-course meal, nobody will judge you.”

“Oh, they won’t?”

“Zhenya, you’re in an arranged marriage. Nobody in an arranged marriage is expected to give up pleasurable dalliances, or even love affairs, if any come along. Once your husband’s given you an heir, he could get his own bit on the side if he wants to.”

“A week ago, I’d have agreed with you.”

Sasha put down his shoe polish and walked over to refill Zhenya’s tea, his eyes flicking to Zhenya’s face. “This consort of yours has you rattled, doesn’t he?”

Zhenya sighed. “He’s…” He hesitated. “You know Seryhoza has been giving him all the daily dispatches and reports?”

“Yes.”

“Every afternoon I find them on my desk, covered in notes. Ideas, suggestions, even corrections. And you know what? He’s always right. I’m starting to think he should be running the country, not me.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that...well, obviously I don’t know him. But his associates are devoted to him. I’ve yet to hear a bad word spoken of him. The way he’s been with me, even in what limited contact we’re allowed…” He trailed off. “I think he must be extraordinary.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think I could love him. Perhaps we could love each other. It could be more than an arranged marriage. He’s fulfilled everything I could have asked for from an embargoed consort and more. I can’t justify throwing away that chance after less than a week because one of his guards has a brilliant smile and a spectacular ass.”

“Your consort’s ass is nothing to shake a stick at, you know.”

Zhenya smiled. “I’m saying there’s no harm in waiting until the embargo is lifted and I can get to know him properly before everyone writes off our marriage as a loveless arrangement and we get carte blanche to fuck other people.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll have a horrible shrill voice and it’ll be so off-putting the whole enterprise will be doomed.”

“Oh, no. He’s got a very nice voice, not shrill at all.”

Zhenya sat straight up. “You’ve heard his voice?” he exclaimed.

Sasha just looked at him like he’d grown another head. “Zhenya, you do know that the whole no-talking rule is only for you, right? He can talk to whoever else he likes, as long as you can’t hear him.”

The rub was, Zhenya did know that, but in his momentary flash of jealousy that Sasha had heard his husband’s voice, he’d forgotten himself. “Of course. I’m...yes.” He frowned. “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

“Oh, God, no. That rule’s for everybody.” He stood up and took Zhenya’s breakfast tray. “I’ll be back to dress you in a bit.” He left with the tray, shutting the door behind him.

He hadn’t been gone more than ten seconds before there was a knock at the door -- not the bedroom door, but the door that led into the royal bedchamber. It could be nobody but his consort. Zhenya started to call for him to come in, then remembered himself. He got up and went to the door and opened it.

His consort was standing back a little in the usual garb he wore in this chamber -- nothing at all save his veils, the ones Zhenya was beginning to think of as his sex veils. Zhenya’s eyes slid down his toned stomach to his cock, which was semi-hard. He was a little surprised that his husband would come to him outside their scheduled appointments -- confirmed every day via messengered card just as they had been the first time -- but it was a pleasant surprise.

The consort reached out and took Zhenya’s hand, pulling him into the chamber and shutting the door after him. He began removing Zhenya’s nightclothes and leading him back to the bed. Once he’d gotten him naked and laid out on his back, he knelt next to him -- it was hard to tell behind the veils, but he seemed to be looking down at Zhenya’s face. Zhenya just waited -- clearly there was a plan here, and he’d be damned if he’d interfere with it. The consort reached out and placed his fingers over Zhenya’s eyes, gently urging him to close them. When he did, the man’s fingers pressed down a little, a clear message to keep them closed.

Zhenya lay there with his eyes shut, feeling his consort moving down the bed, the rustle of his veils moving against Zhenya’s skin, and then suddenly his warm mouth was around Zhenya’s cock. He gasped, keeping his eyes shut only with effort, and clutched at the sheets to keep from grabbing at him. 

The consort tapped his hip twice; Zhenya hoped that was a sign that he could open his eyes now. He did, and saw that his husband had spread his veils over Zhenya’s hips so that he could suck him without violating the embargo. The sight was unexpectedly erotic; he could not see his partner’s mouth on him, or even see himself. All he saw was the vague shape of his head and shoulders moving beneath the veils and his hands on Zhenya’s hips. The sensations were overwhelming. He was rock hard within seconds, biting at his lips to keep quiet. The consort was tonguing at the head of his cock in between long, luxurious strokes of his mouth down his shaft. It was exquisitely torturous.

Just when Zhenya was pondering how he’d communicate to him that he’d better stop or it would be too late, the consort pulled off and knelt up over him, his veils coming with him, keeping him concealed. He shifted to straddle Zhenya’s hips and sank down on his cock, his pussy wet and grasping. Zhenya’s hands flew to his husband’s waist and pulled him down tight; the consort covered Zhenya’s hands with his own and began to move, rolling his hips in tight arcs, his stomach clenching and his own hard cock straining away from his groin. Zhenya moved one hand to stroke him and his grinding movements sped up. The consort’s breathing sped up, he arched his back, his head tipping backwards; Zhenya could only imagine what his bared throat looked like, his flushed face…

Zhenya’s eyes widened as his brain brought up an image of Sidney’s face. What would Sidney look like, in the throes of arousal, riding him like this with his head thrown back and his cock swollen and insistent in Zhenya’s hand?

He grit his teeth and refocused on the actual man fucking him right now. Not Sidney. It didn’t need to be Sidney; his consort was all he needed, all he wanted. How could he want anyone else, when he had this impossibly sexy husband who was driving him to such ecstasies?

Zhenya was determined to get him off first. He licked his palm and stroked the consort’s cock from root to tip, giving the head a little twisting flourish that he knew was very effective when he used it on himself. The consort jerked and whined, deep in his throat, and Zhenya knew he was finding it equally effective. It only took a few more strokes before he was coming all over Zhenya’s stomach. His consort’s body pulsing around Zhenya’s cock pulled his own orgasm from him and he came, straining upwards to fill him as deeply as he could. The consort sucked in a deep breath, grasped Zhenya’s hand and placed it flat and low on his belly, covering it with both of his own and pressing it firmly to him as they shuddered together. 

Wetness gathered in Zhenya’s eyes as he shared the wish that his husband was expressing, their hands clasped over his belly, the hope that even now their child might have been created inside him and was already growing. 

Zhenya relaxed into the bed and the consort sagged into the cradle of his hips, Zhenya’s cock still snugged tight inside him. Zhenya laced their fingers together and squeezed, hoping he got the message. The consort rested there for a moment, breathing hard, before rolling away and tucking his legs to his chest as he always did, that old wives’ tale position to help the seed reach his womb.

Zhenya rose and put his robe and pajamas back on. He put his hand over his heart and bowed slightly to his consort; he was still curled on his back on the bed, but his face was turned toward him and he answered the bow with a nod. Zhenya just wished he could see if he was smiling.

Next Chapter

[twilightbimbo]

Solstice pt. 4: Twilight AU

Solstice is a Twilight AU with my own OC characters. 

Nathalia

I crouched down on a small cluster of boulders. I felt my lips curl back as I narrowed in on my target. A herd of deer, five of them, grazed the forest greenery. I had hoped that I would get over it by now. I hate killing those deer, I feel bad. There. I said it. Also, they taste kinda gross. It’s just not the same. 

With just a  quick leap off the boulder, I launched myself in the direction of the biggest one. My mom used to yell at me so much for how much of a messy eater I was. I guess some things never change. Gross, I know. 

“Oh fucking hell,” I exclaimed. “I just bought this shirt!” I moaned, hitting the palm of my hand against my forehead in frustration. Blood soaked the upper third of the front of my top and splatters dotted my sleeves. I sat on top of the poor dead animal, dabbing the front of my shirt in vain. I finally gave up and rested my head in my hands, my elbows firmly planted on my knees. 

I felt exhausted. Mentally, of course. Physically? I felt like I could demolish a tank. I had talked to more people in the past thirty six hours than I had in months. 

Suddenly, I heard the soft crunch of a leaf being stepped on in the distance. I stood silently, appraising my early morning breakfast. If my heavy-footed friend was a human, maybe a fisher or hunter, they couldn’t find this deer and get suspicious. I kneeled quickly and made the wound look more animalistic, more feral. It wasn’t hard to do since my messiness helped me in the beginning. 

Curiosity got the best of me, I wanted to see who intruded on my introspective wallowing. I climbed up the nearest fir, finding the best branch with a view that also allowed me coverage. I became still as a statue. 

While the sounds of the footsteps sounded closer, they also sounded lighter. Maybe my friend slipped earlier? I listened carefully as faint grey-green light began to leak through the crowded forest ceiling as I waited. 

Rigor mortis started to set in on the poor animal when the footsteps became loud enough for a human to hear. I craned my neck a bit further to the west, the direction the person was coming from. In one lithe and dramatic jump over the boulders, my guest was directly under the tree I perched on. This was no human. 

The vampire was definitely a woman, she was short but I couldn’t see much else as she wore a long and black hooded cloak. She hesitated by my kill, briefly analyzing it before moving on. I could tell it distracted her, she must be curious about what, or who did that. 

My chest tightened and a phantom feeling of my heart pounding ached deeply. Her vampire scent wasn’t familiar to me, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t recognize mine. There was no way I was followed all the way out to Brookings, much less this deep into the forest. My mind raced as I replayed all my movements over the course of the late night into the early morning. I was certain that I was alone the whole time. 

So who was this visitor? This area of the woods was too far away for humans to be wandering into, so it wasn’t ideal hunting grounds. Maybe they are hiding a body. I’ve stumbled across quite a few discarded meals with the iconic two point bite mark. 

I waited patiently for a long time before even considering relaxing my posture. The sunlight faded as the cloud cover settled deeply into the sky. When the stranger’s scent finally dissipated and I was positive that only the scattering of birds was my only company, I made my way down the fir tree and started to make my way back to town. 

The brief encounter with the other vampire never quite left my mind but I focused on making my new apartment my own as the days of the weekend slowly melted together and passed me by. 

My animal based diet gave me golden eyes when my thirst was down. They looked a bit unusual but allowed me to blend in with the humans. Thanks to my gift, the local coffee shop was hiring. I didn’t need a job but I thought having a job gave me a better chance at blending in. And, it gave me something to do. When I was in high school, and a human, I was a barista. I saved up quite a bit and put it in a bank, my parents prided themselves in teaching me finical responsibility. It gave me a bit of comfort that they had inherited my pocket change when I went missing and eventually declared dead. 

I missed my little sister the most. She’s only fourteen months younger than me and everyone would mistake us for twins. We had the same green-blue eyes and messy dirty blonde hair, but she kept hers way nicer than mine. She was driven, determined, and was wildly competitive. She thought she was stuck in my shadow. I always knew that Margot would do a million times better than me in life. I was right. It’s probably the hardest thing to do every day to not check in on her. 

I wasn’t too close to my mom. She’s too much like me. We’re stubborn, opinionated. We would argue all day and night, but I knew she loved me fiercely. Fierce is a good word to describe Josie. She was the CEO of a record label, climbing her way to the top and taking about every man down along her way, my father one of them. My dad liked that she was in charge and bossed him around. My mom was lean and slender, with a mildly obnoxious boob job. Margot and I got our hair from her, but my mom chemically treated it to be straight. Vanity is a deadly disease in Southern California. 

My parent’s marriage is rocky, to say the least. They took “breaks” often. When I was thirteen I thought they were about to actually divorce but after sticking my sister and me with an au pair for a nearly two months long trip to some private island off of the coast of Mexico things settled down for a couple of years. I never asked what they did down there. 

Beau, my dad, was about twenty one years my mom’s senior. “Spineless bastard,” My mom often muttered behind his back. My dad was quiet and an avid believer in red wine. He spent more time in his cellar and vineyards than he ever did with us, which I didn’t mind. It was pretty obvious that it bothered Margot but she wasn’t one to talk about her feelings. It was a family trait. It’s not like my dad didn’t love my sister and me or anything, in fact in some ways I felt more loved by him than my mom. He just did it in his own way, like making sure my favorite snacks were always stocked or carrying my sister to bed when she stayed up too late studying. 

I wouldn’t call us a happy family, but we were family. I miss them. It made me sad to think about what they about me since my disappearance was framed as drug-related. I try not to fixate on that, though.

I was weirdly excited to go back to school. But, I was also scared. What if I couldn’t control my thirst? What would they say happened on the news? “Crazed teen ruthlessly murders entire class, more at eleven”?

I want to stay. I want a home. I decided I was going to feed as much as possible before my first class. I wanted to be so full that the smell of humans would be overwhelmed. But that could never happen, not for a vampire.  Satisfying our thirst was our number one priority, always. I’ve heard that some very, very old vampires don’t have the same obsession anymore but I find that unlikely.   

My thirst was the first thing I noticed when I came to. My transformation was painful. It felt like I was set on fire and every pore on my skin had a sharp needle stuck through it. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. It didn’t help that I didn't know where I was when I woke up. 

I shook my head rapidly, almost like I was trying to physically get those thoughts out of my head. I was nearly done re-furnishing and decorating my apartment. The large windows were shielded by blackout curtains with delicate lace accents weaved into it. I kept things minimal as possible, light, and beach-y. I updated the furniture to the twenty-first century and hung the one personal item I owned, a photo of my family. The one thing that I probably had too much of was plants. Something had to be alive around here. 

Samson 

“Are you sure it’s one of us?” I asked again, two days later after Stella announced her discovery. 

“I’m not a dumbass, Sam” Stella snapped. Stella hates when vampires roll into town. We all do. They usually fuck things up and leave us to clean up the bloody mess. Literally. “Also, shouldn’t you be able to tell?” She pointed out. 

It was true, if she was lying I would know it. But, it’s still shocking. We haven’t encountered a nomad in the three years we have lived in this town. When we lived east of Seattle it wasn’t surprising to get four or five nomads a year.

Suddenly, a wave of calm washed over the room. I could see my siblings relax, Esther’s eyes drooped, the new trashy book she was way too invested in relaxing slightly in her hands. If she was a human, she would pass out on the spot. 

“No fair, Sun,” Stella rolled her eyes. 

“This was supposed to be a nice family game night, you kids are ruining it by getting worked up,” Sunny said sternly.  

“You shouldn’t forcibly quiet us,” Stella retorted. Stella hated being told what to do. Sometimes I’m shocked she even chooses to live with us. 

“I didn’t shut you up, I wish I could!” Sun said, chuckling to herself and patting me on my head. “I just calmed you down, you all are children,” 

We sat around the “dinner” table, Sunny at the head with me sitting on her right. The mahogany table was oval shaped with an ornate red and tablecloth runner. Stella sat facing Sunny on the other side of the table glaring at Sunny with hands folded neatly in front of her and her hair braided and resting on her shoulder. Everett sat on Stella’s left staring intensely at her, most likely talking to her in his own complicated gift’s language. Chip and Esther sat together, Esther perched on his lap, engrossed in her book and Chip absentmindedly played with her hair. 

The stars shined brightly tonight and despite the thick coverage from the forest encasing our home, the moonlight lit up the dining room. Our entire south facing wall was a glass with a view of the Rogue River snaking around our home. I paid little attention to Sunny and Stella’s bickering, focusing on the light bouncing off the crystals of the chandelier which reflected rainbows on the walls, reminding me of my skin in the sunlight.  

“Sam, what do you think?” Sunny asked, nudging my elbow. I cocked my head to the side and gave her a funny look. 

“Huh?” I said quickly and then went over the conversation the family carried on that I barely processed while I was zoning out. “Oh, I don’t know about hunting this vampire down,” I shrugged. “I don’t really see the point in doing that, they might just be passing through,” I continued. 

“If they were just passing through Sam,” Stella said sharply, she hated when I challenged her gift. “I wouldn’t feel their presence anymore,” She finished bitterly. 

I rolled my eyes at her and started to fiddle with the dice that came with the game. “Give them a chance Stells,” I mumbled under my breath, knowing that would just piss her off more. She narrowed her eyes and chucked her phone at me which bounced off my head and landed on the hardwood floor, surprisingly not breaking. 

“I do think it would be best if we got the upper hand on our visitor,” Chip said quietly without interrupting his focus on Esther and her hair. 

“What if they are cool?” I asked jokingly. 

“When are nomads ever not a pain in the ass?” Esther teased, poking fun at Chip who is our newest addition to the family. Chip was a nomad for roughly a hundred years. 

“That is a good point, Esther,” Sunny said, her face soft and thoughtful. “It’s worth looking into who this nomad is,” 

“I’ll round up the search party!” I exclaimed, standing up and slapping the table in excitement. 

“We are the search party, dumbass,” Stella huffed in exasperation. 

Esther

My family decided to waste their evening arguing about the newcomer and then later doing a run around the perimeter of the town, coming up empty-handed. Stella, Everett, and Sunny returned solemnly, a bit defeated early in the morning. Sam was oddly excited to plan another search. 

“Should we go again tonight?” Sam asked, about bouncing on his feet. 

“Let’s wait until their scent leaves a trail,” Sun said, her decision final. While they were chasing down a ghost, I got ready for my first day of school. My seventy-sixth first day of school. 

Thanks to an old friend in Seattle, all of us had forged official documents so no one questioned us enrolling. In my human life, I was Esther Rosenburg. After joining the coven, all of us took the surname King, except for Stella and Everett who kept Stella’s last name Hayes. Samson, Chip, and I typically went to high school while Stella and Everett did community college. This time around, I switched it up and did community college with Chip while the rest abandoned education. 

“Let’s take a first day of school picture of y’all,” Sam said chortling, slapping Chip on the back. 

“Yay!” I exclaimed gleefully. Stella rolled her eyes, yet again, at us but still helped set up the camera to take a tasteful photo of Chip and I standing in front of the spiral staircase. Chip wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close and kissed the top of my head. I looked up at him smiling and I heard the lens of the camera shutter. 

“Beautiful,” Sunny said, looking over Stella’s shoulder at the digital screen of the camera. 

“Thanks, Mom,” I grinned at her. Chip laughed quietly and squeezed me tighter. 

“Shall we?” He said, taking my hand lightly. I stood up on the tips of my toes, kissing his cheek. 

“We shall,” I whispered. In the human blink of an eye, I flashed to the side table by the door and grabbed the keys of my black Volvo. 

“Be careful,” Sun warned, both of blending in and the possible threat of the vampire in town. 

Our home was on the outskirts of town, tucked deeply in the forest. Chip drove us to school, following the winding road. Trees crowded the sides of the road with fog clinging to the asphalt. Chip and I listened half-heartedly to the morning news by the local public that droned on quietly from the car radio in the background, but nothing disturbing happened to indicate that the nomad vampire was active. 

Chip kissed the back of my hand that he was holding as we pulled into the parking lot of Brookings Community College. I looked into Chip’s red eyes and kissed him. When I pulled away, his eyes were brown and I knew mine would be the same color, even though I could pass with my golden eyes. 

“Master illusionist,” I smirked. 

“You know it, baby,” He winked in response. He got out of the car and walked leisurely around to my door, opening it for me. 

We only had two classes today, Introduction to Marine Biology and World History. History is one of my favorite courses, it’s fun to see how wrong textbooks get it. Chip grabbed my hand and we walked to the light blue science building, weaving between the humans hurrying to their classes. 

As we walked into the classroom, Chip immediately stiffened and pushed me back half a step as he let out a low snarl that only I could hear. My jaw dropped as my eyes landed on a girl with dirty blonde hair and golden eyes whipped around to stare at us, her mouth shaped in a small “o” of surprise. 

Previous Chapter

[dr-m-r-ma]

Our Secret

Part II: Homecoming

Genre: drama, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

Summary & Disclaimer here

Puppy eyes. Pouty lips. Ugh.

Soo-ah looked between the two guys, who wore the exact identical looks.

“진짜~~~ 미안! 이런거 부탁해서 미안해.” (Translation: “I’m super~~~ sorry! Sorry I’m asking you to do this.”)

Poking her tongue to her left cheek, she glared at Woohyun, her best friend’s boyfriend. “그래, 너 진짜. 이런 부탁하면 안 되는데. 나한테. 난 안 가고 싶거든.” (Translation: “Yeah, you really. Shouldn’t ask [me] to do this. To me. Since I don’t even want to go.”)

Woohyun whined, “누나, 난 안 가고싶겠어?? 근데 일 때문에 못 가니까 누나가 좀 같이 가죠.” (Translation: “[Noona,] you think I don’t want to go?? But since I can’t go because of work can you please go for me.”)

Moo-hyuk tried to dissuade his boyfriend, but when he tugged at Woohyun’s arm, Woohyun snapped, “형은 좀 가만히 있어!” (Translation: “You sit still for a moment!”)

*Sigh*

At the sound of her sigh, the two boys looked at her cautiously. Soo-ah glared at Woohyun with all the spite she could hold in her eyes. “10일밖에 있는데 너희들 데이트 코스인 콘서트를 왜 내가 가서 시간 낭비해? 내가 재미없을 콘서트잖아. 일 때문에 바쁘면 취소하고 다른 콘서트 가.” (Translation: “I’m only here for 10 days but why do I have to waste time going to a concert that was part of your date course? It’s a concert I’m not going to enjoy too. If you’re too busy with work, then cancel and go to a different concert.”)

“누나~~” (Translation: “[Noona~~]”) Woohyun shook his head and reached for her hand. Ah, the age-old cutesy technique.

“현아. 알잖아.” (Translation: “Hyun. You know.”)

Woohyun grumbled, “나도 알지.. 근데 형은 절대 빠질수 없는 콘서트고 -- 누나 몰랐지, 비엠형이 얼마나 형을 좋아하는지? 형을 못 믿는게 아니라, 비엠형이 너무 만지작 만지작 하니까 그렇지. 날 위해서 형을 지켜줘!! 진짜 부탁이야!” (Translation: “Of course I know… but [hyung] can’t miss out on this concert and -- [noona] you didn’t know, right? BM[-hyung] likes [hyung] so much. It’s not that I don’t trust [hyung], but it’s just that BM[-hyung] is so touchy-feely. Please protect [hyung] for me!!”)

‘아...씨ㅂ’ (Translation: ‘Ah… fuck’) She knew Woohyun would go on forever until she caved.

“야, 눈으로 우리 현이 욕 하지마라.” (Translation: “Hey, don’t curse with your eyes at my Hyun.”)

Soo-ah frowned with disgust as Moo-hyuk hugged Woohyun. The two lovebirds held each other’s hands as one comforted the other and the other whined about the predicament to the one.

She groaned, “그래서 콘서트는 몇시야?” (Translation: “So what time is the concert?”)

On their ride to the venue, Soo-ah stared out the window blankly. She mulled over the fact that Moo-hyuk became friends with KARD’s BM through mutual friends. And since Moo-hyuk worked out quite often, it was no question why BM was so friendly to him. They bonded over healthy lifestyles and workout routines, things Soo-ah preferred not to get into. Whenever they met, Soo-ah would exchange small talk with the girls, but since they never met often, she didn’t get too close.

So, it probably made sense that she didn’t see the KARD x Monsta X joint concert coming.

As the two made their way into the passageway to the artists’ waiting rooms, Moo-hyuk grasped Soo-ah’s hand tightly.

“내가 옆에 있어줄게. 네 옆에서 안 떠나고 널 지켜줄게.” (Translation: “I’ll be by your side. I won’t leave your side and I’ll protect you.”)

She smiled at his words before chuckling. “그건 내가 할 말 아니야? 내 임무인것 같은데?” (Translation: “Isn’t that what I should be saying? Since that’s my mission?”)

They grinned at each other and walked closer to the waiting rooms. The first room they came across was KARD’s, but Soo-ah’s breath hitched when she saw the sign for Monsta X taped in front of a room a few doors down.

“헐. 취향이 밖였네?” (Translation: “Whoa. Your preferences changed?”) A voice came from behind and the two turned around to come face to face with BM and the other members of KARD.

As soon as they turned around, BM’s eyes crinkled and Soo-ah laughed. Jiwoo and Somin ran to Soo-ah, and they all joked around with the boys.

As Soo-ah walked out of the bathroom, she wandered around the hallways, mostly looking for KARD’s waiting room again. She knew she should have taken one of the girls with her, but they were busy with getting their makeup done and it was such a short distance that she didn’t think she would get lost so easily. And yet… when she finally found the waiting room, she breathed a sigh of relief. Before she could open the door, however, a high pitch voice stopped her.

“IT’S THAT 언니!!!” (Translation: “It’s that [unnie]!!!”)

Something crashed into her leg, and another voice yelled out, “Oli!”

‘English?’ Soo-ah looked down and saw the small girl’s wide smile beaming right back at her. When her mother came to pull the child back and apologize, both of them froze. Soo-ah stared at a shocked Esther, and Esther stared back at a very dumbfounded Soo-ah.

“Hey Oli, you okay?”

A chill ran down Soo-ah’s back when the familiar male voice appeared. Her eyes slowly rose and she saw Jooheon approach behind Esther. When his eyes also made contact, it took all she had to not turn away. Her eyes searched his for recognition, for fear, for hostility, but all she came across was indifference. Actually, he looked confused. Like he didn’t know her. Or recognize her.

Instead, he looked down at Oli, who was now pulled back by Esther, and cooed at her lovingly. Before she could take the split second to run into KARD’s waiting, she could hear footsteps approaching them in the hallway.

“야, 최수아! 멀리 가면 안된다고 그랬잖아!!” (Translation: “Hey, Choi Soo-ah! I said not to go far!!”)

Soo-ah flinched at her friend’s holler. ‘아… 끝났다…’ (Translation: ‘Ah… it’s over…’) If Jooheon didn’t remember her, sure, it made her pissed, but it would have been for the better. But now, all that went down the drain after Moo-hyuk called out her name so loudly. While she struggled to regain her composure, she grimly looked back at Jooheon.

Sure enough, something flashed in his eyes. Yet, it still wasn’t what she originally expected -- there was no fear, no hostility, not even recognition. Something simply flickered, but within moments, he went back to his indifference, cool expression.

As Moo-hyuk, BM and Jiwoo approached, BM asked, “Where did you go? We were searching for you!”

Soo-ah turned around. “Ah, yeah, the bathroom. I wandered a little but came back alright.” The moment she grasped Moo-hyuk’s eyes, she noticed his eyes were flooded with worry. He quickly took her hand and pulled her close, but not so defensively that BM or Jiwoo would notice.

While BM and Jiwoo bowed to Jooheon, exchanging hellos and introductions, Moo-hyuk whispered, “미안… 너의 이름 너무 크게 불렀지…” (Translation: “Sorry… I probably yelled out your name too loud, right?”)

She muttered back, “몰라… 약간 모르는 것 같아. 쟤만.” (Translation: “Not sure… he doesn’t seem to know. Just him.”) When Moo-hyuk glanced at her with an eyebrow raised, Soo-ah tilted her head slightly towards Esther and Oli.

“근데… 궁금한게 있는데, 너희들은 어떻게 친구가 됐어? 우현이 도 수아 알지?” (Translation: “But… I’m just curious, how do you guys know each other? Woohyun also knows Soo-ah, right?”) BM asked, with the most innocent look in his eyes.

Soo-ah on the other hand grimaced. Moo-hyuk squeezed her hand, as if to reassure her, and replied. “대학교에서 만난 친구이에요. 당연히 현이도 수아 알죠.” (Translation: “We became friends in university. And of course Hyun knows Soo-ah.”)

This time, Jiwoo poked her head from behind BM. She chirped, “어? 근데 지금 해외에서 살고 있다면서요. 그럼 언제 이사 하셨어요?” (Translation: “Huh? But I heard you’re living abroad right now. Then when did you move?”)

Moo-hyuk replied for Soo-ah once more. “졸업하고나서 거의 바로 이사해서 좀 섭섭했는데, 그 후로 가끔씩 이렇게 놀러와서 좋지.” (Translation: “I was sad since she moved almost right after graduation, but it’s okay because she visits sometimes like this.”) He looked at her and smiled warmly, before continuing. “작년에는 두번 왔는데, 그게 한 2년정도 안 오다가 오랜만에 봤지?” (Translation: “She came twice last year, but that was after not coming here for like 2 years, right?”)

It was times like these Soo-ah praised her friend, for churning the gears in his mind so fast and coming up with lines like that. As she nodded, Jiwoo nodded in response while she could see Jooheon’s eyes blink in confusion again. ‘Did we throw him off our scent?’

“Then you weren’t here, in Korea, two years ago?” Esther blurted out. Her eyes were wide, as if they’d almost pop out of her head, but they were filled with a desperate sense of need.

Soo-ah and Moo-hyuk both frowned at the question. Soo-ah turned to Esther and flatly responded, “No. I was in New York the whole year.”

“비엠씨, 지우씨, KARD 멤버들 마이크 체크 할게요!” (Translation: “BM, Jiwoo, we’ll be doing a mic check for KARD!”)

At the announcement, BM and Jiwoo scurried off, leaving Soo-ah and Moo-hyuk to defend for themselves. It seemed as though Esther was skeptical of Moo-hyuk’s story and Soo-ah’s response, but it didn’t seem like she was going to poke at the elephant in the room. Soo-ah breathed a small sigh of relief, but oh, how she did not know that it was too soon.

“But I saw her when we came to see Honey삼촌 (Uncle Honey) last time.” Oli exclaimed.

As the little girl squirmed out of her mother’s arms and ran towards Soo-ah, she scowled. ‘거의 다 왔는데…’ (Translation: ‘We were almost done…’) Oli latched onto Soo-ah’s arm and explained, “She was outside Honey삼촌’s umm company… and she seemed sad so I gave her chocolate to feel better!”

She could clearly see the lightbulb flicker in Jooheon’s head and the gears turning in Esther’s. Before they could say anything, Soo-ah pulled Oli’s hands off her arm and coldly brushed her off. Instantly, Oli’s face warped into sadness, with tears coming close.

Soo-ah bowed slightly to Esther, before Moo-hyuk led her away to meet up with the KARD members near the stage. As they walked away, she could hear Esther comfort Oli and huff about how rude she was to her daughter. She closed off her mind when Jooheon told Esther, “신경쓰지마. 잊어버리고 그냥 올리랑 즐겨.” (Translation: “Don’t worry about it. Just forget it and enjoy [the concert] with Oli.”)

What she didn’t know was how Jooheon stared at her retreating figure. All five of his senses were alert, the moment he questioned her identity, and something inside was tingly. He didn’t know if it was the good kind or the bad kind, or a mix of both, but whatever it was, he wanted to set straight and get a clear answer from her.

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A/N: slightly shorter chapter! next chapter: Memories