#found family is sometimes you and a vampiric cat that you met because both of you are bound to the same god that is manipulating-

[shelbgrey]

Dating Eleazar Denali Headcanons

Paring: Cullen!Reader X Eleazar Denali

Summary: just some dating headcanons for my favorite Spanish vampire from Alaska

Warrings: there's a few NSFW headcanons in here so be aware.

🩵Eleazar denali series 🩵twilight master list

Your the newest addition to the family, you joined around the 90s (in the twilight timeline). With you being the newest member you and the Denalis didn't interact as much.

After Carmen cheated on Eleazar with Demetri, he moved to Forks with Tayna, Kate, and Irina in tow.

Then he saw you again for the first time in a while. I think the two of you always knew there was a connection or mate bond but never acted upon it due to obviously reasons.

He spent his entire first week at Forks talking to you and during that time he fell harder for you.

You couldn't help but fall for his charm, he just knew how to make you blush.

When Your 'brother' carlisle found out he was pissed, the family has never seen him that angry. He's very protective of you and when he heard the Eleazar was your mate he punched him.

“stay away from her”

Esme has to pull him away and talk some since into him. “they're mates... And they're happy”

Him and Eleazar made up and Carlisle spent over two weeks apologizing for his actions. It's all water under the bridge because Eleazar understood where he was coming from and carlisle knew Eleazar would treat you like a queen.

“I love her”

“I know you do”

Your engaged by the time Bella shows up. To put it delicately she the reason your wedding kept getting put off. James, birthday gone wrong, newborn army, ya know 'normal' stuff.

You got married after the newborn army problem ended. “yeah you think we could get married now? Just a thought”

Eleazar secretly gets really tired of the Bella and Edward drama, so he made sure you got your wedding first. You guys have been waiting too long.

He loves your eyes, especially when you were human. He loves how innocent and soft they looked, they're so gentle.

I wouldn't say Eleazar is a prude but he's definitely uptight and is the serious one out of his coven, but you bring out a softer and brighter side in him. He loves how you can make him laugh and being him out of his comfort zone.

You can always make him laugh, no matter what. He's the serious one in the relationship and your the bubbly one.

Tayna calls you the golden retriever of your relationship and Eleazar is the black cat.

Your the only one who can call him Eli... Maybe Tayna but other than that your the only one who gets the pleasure to do so. “she's the only one who can call me that that”

It's the small things that matter most. He loves dancing with you to your favorite songs. It brings a softer side to your guys chaoic lives.

He never was much of a dancer before meeting you though, but you changed that. It first it was just to mess around because you were bored, but then you both found out how much you loved it.

“I don't dance Love”

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around him. “you do know”

He leaves love notes every where for you to find, sometimes it will be on your mirror, sometimes in the book your reading at the time, no matter what your always finding his sweet messages.

'If I were to kiss you and then go to hell I would, so then I can brag with the devils I saw heaven without even entering it.'

You guys love watching old monster movies together.

You learned he paces when he's nervous or aggravated. He'll move back and forth in your room at lighting speed somethings, mumbling Spanish. If he gets real aggravated he'll rant in English and slowly bleed into Spanish.

With jobs its simple, when he moved to Forks he became the Spanish teacher at Forks High, your doctor like Carlisle.

He didn't relize how touch starved he was till he met you. At first touching and contact wasn't really on the top of his list of needs(him and Carmen didn't touch much) but when you started dating he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he always has to be holding your hand or if your sitting on the couch or something your head is on his shoulder or chest.

You guys are family people, you have this mother vibe to you(Emmett says your like the second mom to them) so when the whole new-born delema happened Eleazar convinced Felix to spare Bree Tanner. You two adopted her and became the parents she never had.

If you met and and married before your transformation you two would have twins, the birth wasn't dramatic like Bella's and you made it threw with smooth sailing after Eleazar terned you.

From the beginning Carlisle was gonna turn you. When you first joined the family you were human, but when you met Eleazar you decide it would be him that would turn you.

Anyway, your twins are a boy and a girl(hybrids of course). Your daughter is gifted, it kinda mirrors Eleazar's ability to see what gift a vampire has. Instead of reading them she copy's them. She found out one day when she was holding Kate's hand then shocked Emmett by accident.

“your daughter is a copy cat” Eleazar smiled proudly. “yeah no shit” Emmett said rubbing his arm.

Your son doesn't have any special powers expect being incredibly fast, faster than Edward even.

Your daughter is an exact copy of Eleazar and your son is a copy of you.

Your really close to Tayna and Kate. They are both like little sisters to you. You and Irina are not as close but you got each other's backs.

Of corse you'd never trust Irina again after she went to the vulturi about the Twins and Renesmee.

The girls were over the moon when Eleazar told them about you and in the beginning of your relationship he was always going to the girls for advice.

He's so afraid of losing you, your the best thing that's ever happened to him and he doesn't want to screw it up. Of course he doesn't have to worry about that.

Your always resuring him that your always gonna be by his side. With that I think he's secretary insecure, he's never really had anyone drool over him like girls do Carlisle or Garrett, so your always telling him how handsome he is.

“have I told you how handsome you are?”

He smiled softly. “Yes dear, like a million times”

He just the same, he makes sure your the only woman he sees. Your truly the most beautifulest woman he's ever layed eyes on. “your so beautiful”

He's very protective of you, he not a violent person in the slightest but if someone caused you harm he'll tear the world down.

He doesn't let anyone talk down towrds you or about you. He's the type to either put the fear of God in them or if it was a friend they won't be on speaking terms anymore.

He'd never admit it or talk about it to someone, but he's a cuddler. If your still human your curled up to his chest sleeping like a baby, he'll have his arms around you all night and intill your wake up.

If your in the living room watching a movie with the family your head is on his shoulder or in his lap.

He'll watch anything that interestes you at the time. He likes supernatural and he'll watch Greys Anatomy on an ocation, being friends with Carlisle for centuries you learn alot of medical stuff, so he knows when somethings wrong in the show.

He's definitely a 'yes dear' when it comes to things, not in a bad way or anything. It boils down to that he'll do anything for you.

He's a rough but passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

NSFW headcanons:

Eleazar has this mischievous kind of charm to him and he uses it to his advantage when it comes to getting your attention. He knows all your ticks and can easily get your riled up.

And it's definitely not one sided. Eleazar would consider himself calm and collected... Serious even, but you know how to get him riled up as well. Like I said before he became a touch person after meeting you. Sometimes all you have to do is Trail your hand down his chest or rub the inside of his thigh. When you push the right buttons he'll pull you towrds your room and you'll be in there for hours tangled in each other.

“darling... Don't start anything you can't finish”

He tries his hardest to be romantic all the time, during sex especially. He wants you to know just how much he loves and adores you.

He's a soft Dom and he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

Your pace all depends on your moods honestly. Usually it's slow and loving, everything moves so quickly in his life so it's nice to just savor moments like this. But if you get him riled up or push the right buttons that switch will be flipped in seconds.

Your small compared to him so he loves to have you in his lap, holding you when you make love.

Speaking of which, he refuses to refer sex as 'fucking', he thinks is degrading towrds you so it's 'making love' in his vocabulary.

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “please don't hold back Love, let me hear you”

He definitely has a Praise kink, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

He found out very quickly how much it makes you blush. He took it as more sweet and innocent than sexual.

Small choking kink when you get him in the right mood, he'd never do anything to hurt you so this is a very rare occasion during sex, especially if your still human.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Lots of broken furniture(Esme has about had it). Usually it's broken headbords on your beds. There's always gonna be a dent where his hand grabed in attempt not to hurt you.

He's not very vocal, unless he's praising you. maybe some groans here and there, he'd rather hear all the sweet noise coming from you.

Eleazar is a god when it comes to aftercare. He'll knows exactly what you need and gets it. He'll make sure your comfortable and cleaned up then hold you in his arms.

[mios-axe]

The owl and her serpent brother

[fireflykaizoku]

Vampire!Kid x Reader | Red Eyes

i started writing this for halloween, so let's pretend it's still halloween pls thank you! i also thought this would be a multichapter, but let's be honest: i often forget to update the multichapter fics. i may post some special chapters

You came from a family of vampire hunters. So ever since you were a child, you remember seeing your parents, sometimes even your grandparents, go out for long travels to hunt those “awful and vile creatures”, as they said. The feeling was mutual, naturally. Vampires hated you and all the hunters.

Your family held a long time grudge for them due the fact that decades ago, a vampire turned a family friend into one of them. They wanted revenge, and finding the creature that took your friend wasn’t enough for them, and it wasn’t enough for you either.

So that’s how you lived your whole life until now, having an aversion for vampires, and it felt like it was your duty to keep the “family business” and hunt as many as you could. So when you turned fifteen, you started to hunt with your family as well. 

Honestly, and you didn’t really want to brag, you became one of the best at your job. You knew you wouldn’t rest until you exterminated each vampire that crossed your path. 

While some of them used to fear you, one of them mocked you. He was sarcastic and annoying. Your encounters always turned into a fight and a cat and mouse chase, and whenever you met for another battle, it was hard to tell if both of you lost or if both of you won.

The fights were always cut short, because of course, the vampire with red eyes and pale skin was powerful, but the sun was still one of his weaknesses. 

So you both always left with the promise of a rematch. The two of you were equally strong and smart, that explains why there was never a winner.

But how come the two ended up here, so close to the creature you used to hate? The first time you were so close to him was during one of the battles, you were challenging each other, mocking each other even. Eustass Kid, the strongest vampire you’ve ever met, found amusing and admired how you didn’t fear him.

You were the first vampire hunter that didn’t run as soon as you both met. Maybe that’s how it started, the mix of passion and hate; how exciting it was to challenge each other and the whole battle for power. Even though the crucifix around your neck made him feel uneasy and irritated, the redhead couldn’t help finding it amusing to be face to face with you.

Eustass Kid knew he had to conquer you.

And he did.

It took him a long time, but it was worth it. He became so irresistible, maybe because he was the first man, human or not, not to fear you. He challenged you.

And while Eustass Kid only wanted something physical, with hate and desire in the same proportion, the strongest vampire started to feel weird. To feel irritated without you and hate whenever you had to leave.

Your encounters happened very often, but suddenly you stopped meeting him. It had been a week, two… A month even, and Eustass got worried. What a joke, a vampire worried about a pathetic human.

His worries were confirmed after he found you. Kid looked everywhere for you, searching for information of your whereabouts. And when he finally found you, you were weak in bed. The vampire sat on the window, looking at you.

— Why haven’t you told me? — he asked as soon as you laid your eyes on him. — Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?

You rolled your eyes, making them hurt for a second.

— Hello to you too, Eustass. — the silence lasted so long. He was still waiting for your answer. — I didn’t want you to worry. But my situation isn’t the best. I assumed I’d just stop appearing and you’d… Forget about me.

— Great fucking job! And how did that work, huh? — he exclaimed. — Invite him to come in now.

Oh, yes. Sometimes you forgot he was still a vampire and had to be invited.

— Don’t you want to come in, please, Eustass Kid? — you asked.

The red haired vampire entered your room, sitting by your side on the bed without saying a word. He was analyzing your situation, seeing your fragile body.

— I can help you. — he started, making you raise an eyebrow. He knew many things, but for sure he wasn’t a doctor. — If you turn into a vampire, you…

Kid didn’t need to finish the sentence for you to reply right away. What an awful joke was that? 

— No! — you tried to say as loud as you could. — Are you insane? A vampire? Seriously, Kid? — you coughed.

— You’ll be able to live! — he got up, raising his voice. — Or you’d rather want to suffer to death?!

You coughed, covering your mouth with your hands, only to notice the small droplets of blood all over it. It was hard not to freak out at this point.

Fuck.

You were definitely getting worse.

— Yes. — it was all you could say, your voice sounded almost like a whisper at this point, unable to say a full sentence without feeling the air leave your lungs. — I’d rather…

Your stubbornness used to amuse Kid when things were funny and not a life or death situation, but now, when you were so sick and who knows what could happen to you, it started to piss him off. Even though you both used to be rivals, enemies even, trying to kill each other whenever you could, the redhead vampire couldn’t lie, he didn’t know what he’d do without you.

— I don’t want to turn into something… — you started, closing your eyes, feeling your chest hurt from taking a deep breath. — That I spent my life trying to kill. It’s against my morals.

— Your morals? — he mocked without even wanting to, it was just too ironic to talk about character and morals now. — With what we have? Seriously, do you think we can talk about morals?

You grunted, trying to move away from the vampire, but your body was too weak to even move. Kid sighed.

— Alright, do you really want to know why I want to do this? — he asked, walked around your room until he stopped, turning his back to you. He, the strongest vampire, wasn’t supposed to have any weakness or feelings, but there he was. — Because I’ll live forever, and knowing that I’ll have to live for the whole eternity without you makes me feel… Weird.

You widen your eyes, not expecting these words to leave his lips. It was the closest to a confession that you’ve ever got in all this time that you were together.

  — Weird… How? — your weak voice asked, not trying to get more romantic and cute words from him, but genuinely curious to know.

— It’s a weird sensation, alright? — Kid asked, already about to get defensive. — I don’t like it!

In other words, he’d miss you. He’d miss you so much, he’d hate to live so many years without your company. Your annoying company and your weak little human self.

Silence, awkward and long silence, dominated the room. Kid felt stupid and weak, while you felt surprised and started to think, and maybe you’d regret your choice. And if you did, you’d have to live forever with regret.

— Will it hurt? — you whispered, making him turn to look at you right away, with his eyes full of surprise.

He gulped. Kid tried to remember how he felt when he turned into a vampire, but it was so long ago. 

— I don’t know. — his answer was honest, just like he always was.

— Will you stay here with me? — you asked, making him nod. —Alright... Make it quick. Kid moved closer, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his lap. The movement your painful, after all, your body was still sensitive and in pain. Your lover was trying to get you as comfortable as possible. You closed your eyes shut and gulped, preparing yourself for the pain of the bite. Your mind was racing, wondering if it’d hurt or how it’d feel. Doubt crossed your mind at some point, but you had no choice now. For some reason, you didn’t want to die now.

Maybe Kid was right, turning into a vampire was better than death. Maybe being with him for the rest of your life was better than death.

Kid’s rough hands tried to be as gentle as possible while caressing your neck, finding the perfect spot. He moved even closer, feeling the delicious smell of your flesh, making you shiver. His tongue found your neck, licking the right spot before placing a kiss. The redhead was too tempted. Your smell and the taste of your soft skin were making him lose control. But he obviously couldn’t drink too much of your blood. 

After all, you weren’t his prey, you were his lover.

Trying to be as careful as he could, the vampire sunk his teeth into your soft skin. Surprisingly, the vampire bite didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. However, the transformation wasn’t as magical as you assumed it’d be.

It felt like you could hear everything, even a low noise from far away, and it felt like something weird was running through your veins and the foreign sensation was making your stomach do backflips. Your eyes got more sensitive to the lights, and you could feel the slight fangs growing. You closed your eyes shut, trying to make the feeling go away.

While you were trying to get used to the sensation, Kid held you. His strong arms reassured you, letting you know you weren’t going through this alone. It felt like forever, when you opened your eyes, that turned into a bright shade of red now, just like his.

— So, what do we do now? — your still weak voice asked, looking at your lover with big curious eyes. —  Do we turn into bats and just fly around scaring people? — you giggled, yawning, as if your body got too tired, trying to still recover.

Kid clicked his tongue and sighed. Looking at the window, the first rays of light were about to invade the room through the curtains. 

— You’re very funny to someone who was almost dying. — he paused, getting up and taking you in his arms.

The vampire made his way to the coffin bed made of dark brown mahogany wood and burgundy insides. It was still small, after all, even after all these years, Eustass never expected to have someone sleeping by his side. Maybe he’d need a bigger bed eventually.

He gently placed you inside, entering and making himself comfortable soon after.

— First, you need to rest, brat. — he whispered, placing an unusual soft kiss on your forehead. A quite out of character attitude of his, but he couldn’t help it. All he could feel right now was relief to know you were okay. 

You smiled, closing your eyes.

— For the whole eternity sounds like a long time now, right, Eustass? — it was the last thing you remember before feeling your body almost drifting into a calm sleep.

[jaskiersvalley]

Hi, I really love your shorts and they are helping me through a really hard time right now. I just get to take a break from my mind everytime the notification pops up and, honestly I absolutely adore your writingstyle. I was hoping that there would be a bit more to the cuckoo witcher snippet you wrote cause that one was my absolute favorite

Hey Nonnie, I really hope things have settled in the time that’s elapsed since you sent this ask. On the plus side, I think I have a follow-up to this snippet of cuckoo witcher Jaskier that is good enough :D

Kaer Morhen loomed over Geralt as he approached, ready to spend the winter within its walls. It was a bittersweet moment because he had hoped that Jaskier could come with him, now that there was no doubt about whether he could make it up the harsh path. However, there was only a silent spot next to him where Jaskier ought to be. His absence was felt most keenly on the dark nights with the forest loud around Geralt while Kaer Morhen all but frowned down at his approach.

“I see you’re alone,” Vesemir greeted him, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Your cuckoo find a better nest for the winter?”

It was no secret that Vesemir didn’t approve of Jaskier. Then again, he didn’t approve of Aiden either the first few years Lambert brought him along. Now, a few decades on, Vesemir had learned to tolerate and accept his presence. It helped that Aiden always brought truly magnificent supplies to share with everyone. Plus, Eskel and Geralt liked him so if Vesemir ever grumbled, he was quickly outnumbered by his pups.

However, the words still stung and Geralt wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “I didn’t want to bring him somewhere he wouldn’t feel safe.”

“If he was a proper witcher, he could protect himself,” Vesemir shot back.

Rather than reply, Geralt growled and barged past him and to his room. It had never felt emptier than when he wished Jaskier was there too. Winter was going to be a long one.

The pass was rapidly closing, Lambert and Aiden had arrived on foot, laughing and shoving each other. Nobody ever asked them where and when they met up but they always arrived and left together. Sometimes it was easier to plead ignorance than ask a question that wouldn’t lead down a happy path. Geralt carefully never mentioned to rumours he heard of a cat and a wolf partnering up or the fact that once or twice he bumped into them unexpectedly at the height of summer.

“Is Eskel not coming this year?” Aiden asked over lunch when Geralt was trying to burn a hole in his bread with his eyes alone.

“He sent word that he is on his way,” Vesemir replied. “He’d better hurry, the path is almost shut now.”

They all knew that if Eskel wasn’t there in the next two days, he would never make it up. Assuming he was trekking his way to Kaer Morhen, not waylaid by something. Though it was Eskel, he was very difficult to sway if he had his mind set to something.

One day passed. Then another. Geralt had spotted both Lambert and Aiden on the highest point of the keep, looking out over the forest, trying to spot Eskel. Not that he had much room to judge, Geralt was out ‘hunting’ most days. He did return with pheasants and deer to prepare and cure but mostly, he wandered down the path in the hopes of finding Eskel.

On the third day, breakfast was a solemn affair. The pass had become inaccessible and they all knew that they were likely to find a body come spring when they returned to the Path. Geralt made a quiet vow to be the first to leave, so he could spare Lambert and Aiden the ache. There was a tavern at the bottom of the mountains, Geralt could do what needed to be done then go and get horribly drunk in Eskel’s memory.

“Just the four of us this year,” Lambert said, fidgeting with his tankard. “It will be strange.”

Under the table, Aiden squeezed his leg and Geralt, as well as Vesemir, politely pretended not to notice. They were all subdued, lost in their thoughts. In a few days, when they’ve all had a chance to try and wrangle the worst of their emotions, they would get together and drink to Eskel’s memory.

The loud thump of someone knocking on the door had them all jumping in a very un-witcher like way. It was a bit of a scramble for weapons because whoever it was, they were not a welcome guest. Vesemir was the first at the door, pulling it open and staring.

“I think I’ve found a wayward wolf,” a familiar voice said by way of greeting. Geralt rushed to see and found Jaskier, looking a little blue in the lips with Eskel half draped over him. “Would you like him, or shall I fly off this mountain with him in tow?”

Lambert was stepping forward and hefting Eskel over, frowning at how floppy he was. Geralt was quickly at his other side, grunting a little at having the bear so much weight.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, adjusting his grip.

“Higher vampire in the village,” Eskel rasped.”Almost lost. Then your bard showed up.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Jaskier clapped, jolting them all out of the quiet reverie on the doorstep.

“Right, lovely, well,” he rubbed his hands together and glanced around. “Time for me to go. You’ll be fine, Eskel, got your family now. You’re looking quite perky now anyway. Nice to see you Geralt. See you in the spring.”

They watched as Jaskier turned and headed determinedly for the path. It was certain death, there was no way he was going to be able to make it down and find someone to shelter him for the season. Not in these parts of the continent.

Vesemir looked over to Eskel. If this was him looking perky, he dreaded to think what he was like before. Probably half dead. He knew all too well that the path up to Kaer Morhen took three days if it was clear and not too cold. Now though, it probably took more like five and to be dragging an at most half conscious witcher up was no mean feat.

“Jaskier,” he called after the disappearing cuckoo. There was already a kitten in the wolf den, a fledgling couldn’t do much more harm. “Thank you for bringing Eskel home.”

At the call of his name, Jaskier turned and offered a small smile. “As if I could have done anything different.” After a beat, he nodded and turned back towards the snow laden path. It was all too easy to see where he and Eskel had come from, waist deep snow with a deep furrow in it. They were both probably soaked through.

The next part was the bit that really hurt to say but Vesemir was better than his darkest shadow. “Why don’t you come inside? I’m sure Geralt would appreciate your company.” And he’d never forgive Vesemir if Jaskier tried to leave the mountain and died along the way. “You’d be welcome at our table.”

That winter, there were six witchers in Kaer Morhen, as full a house as it had been in decades. Somehow, Vesemir didn’t end up regretting having an extra mouth to feed. Not when in return, the others all smiled and laughed more freely and songs echoed through the stone halls, Jaskier often joined by at least one if not more witcher. And sometimes, in the privacy of the library, Vesemir softly joined in, enjoying humming as he read.

[qianoir]

After Midnight 2 - Rhiannon

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college dropout!Ten (WayV) x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, angst with fluff on top

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, family problems, mentions death of reader's father, romance, this part determines the reader’s age but feel free to ignore

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @staysstrays

Preview < 1 < 2

𝟏𝟎:𝟎𝟎 𝐀𝐌

Should I call him? No! What if it wasn't meant for me? Idiot, there was no one else in the café of course it was meant for you! What if it's a prank? It's probably the number to a McDonald’s or something. And if it's not..? What if he never comes into the café again?

You woke up in a freezing cold room with an acquainted boy named "Ten Lee" on your mind, contemplatively staring into his napkin before finally deciding to text him.

You typed the 11 digits into your phone.

Ok... now what do I say?

Hi Ten, this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Hi Ten, this is Y|

|

Why do I even care about this so much? It's just a text and for all I know this kid could be some kind of siren-vampire trying to seduce me with song lyrics at nighttime.. is that even possible?

Hi Mr. Lee this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Why so formal? Oh God I sent it..

It’s done.

You grabbed a towel and prepared a quick shower before continuing the rest of the morning. Intruding thoughts about Mr. Lee fill your mind under the water.. like.. why does he only visit the café at night? Your prior superstitious suspicions about him being a vampire fall back in mind.

At least if I get to be a vampire I can live this timeline as a doctor and make my mom happy, then be a dancer for eternity.

As much as you did not know about Ten, you still knew quite a bit about him. His favorite combination at the café is an iced Americano with pandan cake, his favorite color is black— you assume since it's the only color his outfits consist of, and he has a younger sister, which you found out after hearing him say 妹妹 over the phone one night.

The loud text notification sounds throughout the bathroom and you nearly slip trying to quickly finish your shower to check the new message.

Mom (Work)

My daughter! Your grandmother is sick, I am going to Incheon to bring her medicine and groceries so I need you to open the café today. I should be back to take over at 2 o’clock. Be careful on your own!

Unwrapping your body of your towel to dress into a nice outfit, you sighed knowing your Saturday would be another day spent on your sore feet. The café opens at 11 AM so you would only be working an extra few hours, but you hoped your mom would let you take a slice of delicacy home for the filial overtime.

“Aya!”

Another loud notification tone beamed from your phone, forcing your name brooch to prick at your fingertip. The screen luminated with an unknown number.

Contact Not Found

hihi Y/N! no need to be so formal with me! I'm only from ‘96 :)

Contact ‘TEN’ Added

TEN

are you free today? I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee and ice cream, if you're not sick of the smell yet ;p

You frowned remembering the plans your mother made for your day.

Y/N

I'm so sorry Ten my mom wants me to work opening for the café today :(

Figuring that was your ending, you packed a bag full of necessities for the day and walked to Décalcomanie.

TEN

why don't I come over there? the café serves bingsoo this time of year right? it’s barely the afternoon, not many people will be dining. we could still hang out if you’re down?

Butterflies soared in your stomach just like they do every night at 11:59 PM.

Y/N

Yeah that sounds perfect :)

TEN

okk see you soon!

Eek!

It felt so weird to think of seeing him in the daytime, especially after just mentally accusing him of being a bloodsucker.

Upon your entrance, the café was soon bright with morning light and you patiently awaited Ten’s arrival. Nearly an hour had gone by and there was no sign of him. You didn't think he would flake out, but you barely know each other so why wouldn't he?

Ten was right; it was pretty empty here this morning. You bent forward to hand one of the regular old women her tea in the Décalcomanie’s prettiest teacup upon your mother’s request of the best service for all of her regular customers.

The bell chimed with an open door. Your eyes blinked to the woman's upturned phone by her saucer.

𝟏𝟏:𝟓𝟗 𝐀𝐌

Could it be? You laughed at the irony in the thought, but when you looked up from the woman’s table, a rice cake cheeked boy stood across from you.

"I'm here!" He announced to the entire floor.

You bowed a greeting like you do for every customer and ushered him to the bar, "Sit down over here." where he sat in front of your standing form. "What type of bingsoo have you come in for, sir?" You teased.

"Coconut with vanilla ice cream! And.. two spoons?"

You blushed at the thought of sharing subtle intimacy with the fine young man before your eyes. You had only just met him, but you saw no harm in sharing a dessert with him as you would do with friends.. if you had them.

Nodding and running off to make the icy dessert, you heard the ripple of a writing pen. From the corner of your eye, peeked Ten orchestrating an English poem onto a stray napkin, his brown bangs falling on the bridge of his nose. These little actions made your heart jump; his passion for various styles of music felt so endearing to you.

You paid for the grandiose bowl of sugar and presented it to Ten. His phone lit up with a notification and you took notice of his wallpaper: Him with a disgusted looking boy that he was French kissing on the cheek. I'm not judging but.. whomst?

"Who's that?" You asked, handing him a spoon, taking another for yourself.

He glanced at his phone and blushed, breaking out in quiet giggles.

"That's my friend, Yangyang. We really enjoy our time together."

You hummed and smiled. They seem to have a good friendship, but you were still curious to know more about this Yangyang guy.

"So you attend university?" Ten asked before shoveling a high spoon of ice flakes into his mouth.

"I'm a sophomore at SNU." You replied, mirroring his bold eating style.

Ten spoke with surprised eyes, "Really!? That's a fancy school. Wow～ you must be really smart."

"Not really.. I'm studying dance. All I do is move my feet."

"I'm a dancer, too! It's a really hard and beautiful art, you shouldn't sell yourself short for being a part of it." He genuinely advised.

You looked down after thanking him for his kind words, suddenly feeling very bashful. "How old are you, by the way? You calling me Mr. Lee this morning is all I've been thinking about." You both laughed.

"I'm 20, turning 21 this year.” He nodded. "You're from ‘00? Yangyang is the same age as you!"  He exclaims.

"I’ve never met someone my age! How many friends do you have?"

"I have a few, but I’m closest to a specific six and we all live together."

"It must be nice to have so many friends. It’s been a little difficult for me to make friends this semester.." You stirred some melted ice cream around your side of the bowl, suddenly feeling very lonely in Ten’s personal presence.

"You should come over sometime! We love new friends!" He was pleading with his eyes for you to agree.

"Oh.. I don't want to intrude-" "No really! We would love to have your company. Here..." He flipped over the napkin he was previously writing on and scribbled a short address on it, sliding it over to you.

"You should come by tomorrow evening. 5 o'clock if it works for you." Ten says before finishing off the last bit of flavored dairy in the bowl.

You scanned over the inked napkin in your hand.

97 Saemunanro, Sinmunno 1 il-ga, Jongnogu, Seoul

"It's apartment number 117. Just call me when you get there because we may not be able to hear your knocks over the screaming." You looked at him in slight concern, but he only smiled in return.

Ten took out his card to pay for the bingsoo, but you stopped him. "Oh I already paid for the both of us!"

"Aww you didn't have to," Ten frowned, but handed me $20 anyways, "Here take this at least. A tip for my favorite barista." He winked and ran out of the café before you could protest.

"REMEMBER 5 O'CLOCK!"

Ten shouted, bumping into a man, who cursed at him, profusely bowing on the way out. You shook your head at his silliness and flipped the napkin over to a pretty poem.

She is like a cat in the dark and then

she is the darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark

and when the sky is starless

To Be Continued…

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[string-bean-requiem]

New addition - Vampire!Tattoo Artist!Risotto x Human!Reader

Summary - Ris finds a kitten and brings it home to you

Note - Reader uses She/Her pronouns & is a woman. Modern AU

Genre - Fluff

Animals never really took too much of a liking towards Risotto Nero, who may or may not be disheartened by this very fact, but nevertheless, understands exactly why.

He was mother nature’s very own monstrous concoction of a top class predator. Hunting any and all species with warm, crimson blood flowing within their bodies — the very substance that keeps him alive and functioning — with speed faster than a cheetah in its prime, strength greater than any nation’s army combined, along with nails and teeth that could slice through almost anything thrice more precise than any polished blade ever could.

So while he understood well and why animals were deadly afraid of him, disappointment couldn’t resist its way towards his un-beating heart when yet another dog has scampered away from him, all because he simply glanced its way.

Although, disappointment may to be too light of an adjective to describe the depth of emotions he feels towards the rejection of his favourite companions, as the same species had used to be the ones Risotto would seek comfort in when he was exhausted from his own (or what used to be his own) kind’s reactions towards his... ‘vibe’, as the current time’s society would say. Not that he was surprised with that one though. Even during his time as a human, he was well feared by many other humans. If not for his stature and demeanour, then surely for his occupation as a seasoned assassin.

Even though not much has changed when he does come in contact with most humans these days, especially more-so now that he has sleeves of tattoos complimenting the obsidian of his sclera and the glaring crimson in his iris, there was at least a sanctuary, a safe haven in specific types of people all throughout time: those who do not care, and those who are accepting.

Both of which have never cowered away from him, both of which some makes up Risotto’s close knit circle of people he actively cares about, and both of which can be found in his lover... his partner... his better half — you.

You, who despite your species’ natural evolution in (rightfully) fearing vampires, looked at him and felt nothing of the sort and instead, saw him as Risotto Nero. You saw him as the man he was and is, saw past his predator nature, and proceeded to peel back his guarded layers one by one, each with a softer touch than the last, and always left him craving and breathless, but never regretful.

Sometimes, Risotto even thinks being a blood-sucker isn’t so bad. That all those years spent confused, afraid, and lonely was quite alright. With every memory fracture blurring together into a kaleidoscope of nebulous haze, seeming like a distant past, unfamiliar even, and slowly, he feels it slipping past his fingers with each day he spends with your lovely being. Perhaps, he even feels lucky for having this... predicament of a nature being forced upon him lifetimes ago, seeing as how this exact curse was the reason why he had been able to live long enough to have met you. Ever so often though, he has to pinch himself in an attempt to try to soothe himself from wondering if this was all just a very nice dream (or a very sick and convoluted prank on him) because he feels as if it’s too good to be true... but he knows better than that. The swell of his dead heart just by thinking about the welcome back kiss you always pepper onto his lips when he reaches home reminds him just of that.

However, before Risotto could lose himself further into his reminiscing, a weak, shaky mewl echoes softly from the alleyway to his right. It even surprises him to a point of stillness because it sounded so much like a cry for help — for him, the predator of all beings.

But it couldn’t be, it didn’t make sense for it to be, and he almost starts his journey back home again, until the same frail vocals call out for him once more.

Risotto’s head turns towards the direction of the sound and he’s met with the sight of a sketchy pathway. Not that he had anything to worry about though, he drank blood for a living after all.

As another cry sounds off, Risotto approaches forward with tentative steps, not wanting to scare off the very obviously weak animal whilst trying to show that he meant no harm or malice. It seemed to work, oddly enough, when a tuft of obsidian fur pokes out of the confines of its shabby cardboard box, revealing its bright golden eyes to stare at Risotto’s own crimson pair.

An odd tension enveloped the two beings, and a beat passes before Risotto takes the leap to pet the kitten’s head — and he’s so glad that he did.

How long has it been since an animal has nuzzled its little head into his expectant palm? How many years has it been since the last animal had deemed him safe enough to lick at his hand? How much time has passed since soft little paws have been padded at his hand as if to say “Pet me more!”?

Long enough.

So much so that it has him perplexed that a weak little kitten is not wetting itself in fear of his presence so far. Questions and guesses as to why whirls in his head, yet he couldn’t help but find himself almost giddy at the turn of events... at this brave little Bombay.

Risotto’s excitement is cutoff short when he notices its shivering body, which is quite unsurprising, as the little fellow was showing signs of being on the edge of malnourishment, and his heart squeezes a little at that.

With careful and steady movements, showing that once again he meant no harm, he shrugs off his coat, hoping it’ll be of use to keep the animal warm, and with the utmost care and gentleness he could muster, wraps it up and tucks its back into its makeshift shelter. Risotto makes sure the kitten’s safe and comfortable before ultimately deciding to bring it home with him, to you, while wondering along the journey if you would want to keep it as much as he does.

God, he hopes you do, but he knows cats can be picky with who they want to show affections to, who they want to accept as their caretaker, and he thinks he would be disheartened greatly if the animal in his hold did not take a liking to you. It would be such a cruel fucking joke if the one animal who didn’t shun or cower at him liked him, but not you, especially since he knows you’ve been wanting a cat for a long time, having unintentionally overheard this desire of yours with your friend a while back when they came to visit you. And it would be so cruel when he finally finds one that won’t claw at his eyes 24/7 that it may end up trying to claw your eyes instead.

You better like her. I won’t know what to do if you don’t...

With each step bringing Risotto closer to your shared home, he grows a little more tense at the prospect of introducing the stray to you, how it’ll react, how it’ll go down... and before he knows it, he’s already through the front door and calling out your name to signal his arrival home.

“Welcome home, Ris. How was work today?”, your voice echoes a little in the cozy space. The domesticity of your tone etches into his memories and he files away into a secure space in his heart, feeling his worries calming by the second.

He could never get tired of this — of you, in the home you’ve both built together, where happiness and content are seeped into every crevice with a warm smile and soft eyes and even softer hearts.

A moment passes as he commits this scene into his heart, like he had done so with every other point in time that he has shared with you, and he realises he’s gone off track a little when your curious eyes continues to peer at him, his sudden stillness, and the cardboard box in his arm.

“It was a slow day at the parlour...”, Risotto quickly mumbles. His lips soft and warm against your smiling ones, lingering for a beat longer than usual, wanting to bask in your familiarity to ease the nerves beginning to flutter again. “...but a couple of interesting things happened.”.

Risotto pulls away and immediately misses your warmth. Twinges of strained excitement begin to dig deeper into the depths of his abdomen, and he can’t help but hope once again that the little fur ball would take a liking to you because fuck does he wants to raise it with you so damn much.

“Oh?”, your eyebrow raises inquisitively, “Does it have anything to do with that box in your hand?”.

Risotto all but nods in accordance and settles the cardboard box onto the coffee table. Your curiosity peaking as you glance between the shabby box and his gaze.

“I overheard you wanting a cat once. And I know it’s hard to have a pet around with my... disposition, but...”, he trails off when he reaches towards the box to dig out the star of today’s show, still bundled in his heavy coat.

“No way...”.

Your eyes widen, eyebrows shot upwards and your grin spreads itself wide across your lips when a tiny head of fur ruffles itself out of its makeshift bed.

Slits of honied gold peered at you from its position, wary and cautious of its own safety with every step you take forward. Risotto own breath subconsciously bates as your hand inches towards the Bombay’s head apprehensively. You’ve already surmised that this little kitten is more than fine with your vampiric lover, seeing as how it seems to make itself completely at home in his coat and in his hold, so the only hurdle left to complete your new family was for the same kitten to take a liking to you as well, and the pressure was gnawing its way at your nerves. The both of you were well aware that cats were picky with who they liked, and if this one cat didn’t like you... you wouldn’t know how to handle that and it’s consequences.

You honestly didn’t want to even think about the consequences... and it seemed like you didn’t have to.

It immediately took a liking to you, nuzzling it’s head into your hand before licking at your digits the same way it did with Risotto earlier today.

It likes you, and most of the tension unravels it’s hold on his muscles. The hardest hurdle was over, leaped in perfect form and done with, and Risotto sighs in relief before he asks, “Do you want to keep it?”.

The chances of you rejecting this proposal was practically nonexistent, seeing as how your eyes are practically glimmering at the kitten pawing at your fingers, but he was a gentleman and he wanted your verbal confirmation to expanding your family together. You, of course, agreed without a beat of hesitation, all while cooing and petting the mewling Bombay in his arms.

God, he could live in this moment forever.

A vivid smile takes over Risotto’s features as he steals your attention for a bit, his fingers tipping your chin upwards quick enough for you to catch his dimples making their coveted appearance, and you have to take a moment to re-collect your swooning self. He always did look the most lovely when he was unabashedly happy, something you pride yourself on being able to bring out of him. But before he could swoop in for another kiss, your brain kickstarted and suddenly you remembered.

“Wait you said ‘a couple of interesting things happened’... what’s the other thing?”.

“Oh. A pair of drunkards walked in during the afternoon and demanded to get matching tattoos of each other’s irises on their nipples. I refused, of course.”

“...what?”, your eyes widened in disbelief.

You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the incident, and the fact that Risotto had delivered it as deadpan as ever, which is totally up your alley in terms of humour, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to give him a chuckle. Instead, all you felt was concern and disbelief bubbling at the blatant entitlement and stupidity the drunkards had displayed to your beloved.

“Are you feeling okay? Did they hurt you?”, you voiced. Your tone soft, but not without your signature protective edge reserved for your loved ones, and you find one of your hands leaving the kitten to reach out to cup Risotto’s warming cheek.

He understands how you must be feeling, knowing that beneath your nonchalant personality reveals a more protective side, and he loves that about you. He loves that no matter how extreme or how insignificant the matter is, you’d always show him that you’ll care for and about his wellbeing, going as far as even fighting for him and his honour, even if he’s the one who’s a powerful supernatural being.

He loves it, he loves you, and he loves how you’re so consistent in your love for him, and in this moment, he feels it once again and melts into your palm.

“Yes, and yes.”, Risotto’s voice is just a touch tender as he drowns in the love pouring from your eyes. “No need to worry about me, biddùzza. I’m a vampire. I could drain them dry before they can even blink.”, he reassures.

Your posture relaxes and you can’t help but huff out a chuckle at his words, being able to finally find his apathy and the situation a little funny in its own way. But that doesn’t mean he still should just keep up that attitude forever. Always easier to be safe than sorry. Powerful supernatural hunter or not.

“You know I can’t help it. You’re too soft, Ris.”, you want to take on a scolding tone, but how could you when he looks at you like that? Like you’ve hand-crafted every single good and beautiful thing in this world with graceful weaves and gentle touches... like you’re the sole reason the moon glows every night its own nebulous light, surrounded by clouds of stars and quiet skies... How could you when he looks at you like you’ve bloomed spring to his world drowning storms?

A sigh holds itself back in your throat, opting instead to lean in and peck his lips, pillowy with just a touch of coldness that you’ve grown to be fond of, before returning your attention back to the eager little kitten in his arms again, and Risotto commits the sweetness of your smile and the fondness in your eyes for the purring animal to his already expansive memory.

“That’s reserved only for you...”, he murmurs.

A millennia ago, if someone were to tell Risotto that he’d be happily committed to his human partner, voice fond and gaze overflowing with adoration as he listens to them worry over his well-being and comfort whilst they pet a purring little kitten in his hands, he’d have ripped their head off for spouting something so absurd... for taunting him with something seemingly so unobtainable.

But here he is, lips meeting yours again in a loving kiss, with warm blissful domesticity encapsulating your shared home as the new addition to your little family nuzzles itself into his palm.

...and now you too.

[komori--shoma]

Shoma Umi Komori.

🦢

(I'm sorry if my english is shitty-)

❛A sad soul can kill faster than bacteria.❜

—𝐽𝑜𝒉𝑛 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑘

⟅☙⟆ Universe ⟅☙⟆

Diabolik Lovers. I plan, however, to take her out of the universe and make her a character of her own. Or maybe I'll just drop it and do both. Who knows?

⟅☙⟆ Full Name ⟅☙⟆

Shoma Umi Komori.

"Shoma" is a Japanese name that means "Woman who seeks the truth, who is not conformist at all."  Her second name, "Umi", is also a Japanese name that means "ocean".

⟅☙⟆ Kanji ⟅☙⟆

シ ョ マ

⟅☙⟆ Nickname ⟅☙⟆

Despite being initially confused by these, as she was not used to it, she was given the nickname "Engel" (which means "Angel" in German) by a family quite close to her.  The nickname was given by the mother and head of the family, since in the eyes of that woman, Shoma is an angel.

Seiji, who was the adoptive father of the girl, called the young woman "Astertea", which is quite a "peculiar" name in the bible.

Yui, with whom she is no longer in contact with Shoma, used to call her "Sho" or "Shomi" affectionately.

⟅☙⟆ Age ⟅☙⟆

She is eighteen years old, although she looks a bit younger.

⟅☙⟆ Gender ⟅☙⟆

Feminine.

⟅☙⟆ Sexual Orientation ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't know yet. Doesn't really bothers her to know.

⟅☙⟆ Height ⟅☙⟆

160 cm.

⟅☙⟆ Weight ⟅☙⟆

She used to weigh 35 kg., But now she is a proud 64.5 kg.

⟅☙⟆ Blood type ⟅☙⟆

OR-

⟅☙⟆ Status ⟅☙⟆

Alive.

⟅☙⟆ Race ⟅☙⟆

Human

⟅☙⟆ Birthday ⟅☙⟆

June 20th.

⟅☙⟆ Sign ⟅☙⟆

Gemini.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Color ⟅☙⟆

Light blue and night blue.

⟅☙⟆ Appearance ⟅☙⟆

There is a great before and after in her appearance, and even though she is not shown in her story (at the end of the card), there was the occasional change in her future.

The girl has oculocutaneous albinism, so her skin and hair are snow-white.  Her hair, due to a small "situation", was long, straight and lifeless.  Her hair almost touched her waist, and she basically managed to cover her view.  She is now a cute short hairstyle down to the nape of hers, wavy and neat.

Her skin is very pale and fragile, although now she is somewhat better, before she was simply rough and damaged.  She has several deep burns and scars on this one as well.

The young woman, despite not having very good eyesight, has beautiful eyes of a light blue color, somewhat grayish.

She has a mark on her right leg in the shape of a fox with several stars on it.  It's a pretty special symbol, but she keeps it covered most of the time.

She usually did not wear clothes other than bandages to cover herself, although she still finds old clothes to wear, even though she was a little too big.  Now, she got used to wearing light clothes that cover most of her body;  like jeans, leggings, or long dresses with something underneath.  She doesn't really like to wear short or see-through clothes.

⟅☙⟆ Personality ⟅☙⟆

Many think that she simply doesn't have any kind of emotion. Shoma never shows any kind of expression in public, she is shown with her face up and with a look so cold that she makes it true to her appearance. The young woman is too serious, and depending on the person, it is very difficult to get her out of her typical attitude.

Sho is an elegant little girl, and full of grace despite all her troubles. She will never be friendly enough in front of someone (again, it depends on the person), but she will also not feel uncomfortable or unwelcome unless that is the goal of the little one. Shoma knows that she is able to erase someone from the earth fas if she wishes, but she doesn't abuse that thought, you just have to be careful not to make her angry or touch her too much.  It could be a big mistake.

Still, well ...

She is always alert, so it is very easy for her to get nervous or anxious most of the time.

She can also happen that she cannot do something right (she finds it very difficult to concentrate / think on several occasions, as well as sometimes she finds it difficult to understand what happens around her, etc).  Still, it is something that doesn't happen as much as before, after leaving the aforementioned situation in which she found herself.

She is easily frustrated, and this happens when she recognizes that she has trouble thinking.  It's very easy for her to cry or tear up in frustration (she doesn't do it in public, she refuses to do it, but that only makes it worse).  Also, her coping strategy is simply not talking about her emotions and keeping a straight face all the time.

Still, and even though she very reluctantly accepted help, Sho is willing to change and improve (even if she has to go through hell first).  She has shown to be too cunning for her age and to behave as if she were an adult, and even though she is slowly trying to behave according to her age, she is very difficult for her as well.

Anyway, Shoma can also be a girl who listens to others and is willing to do it regardless of the situation, and she is always there to be a shoulder on which one can cry.  She also tends to have fun when she feels calm around her, being one of the few moments when she feels and acts like a young little girl.

⟅☙⟆ Relatives ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori: Adoptive father.  Currently dead.

⟣ Yui Komori: Adoptive sister.  Currently alive.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Food ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't have a single specific favorite food, but she definitely likes sweet and simple foods, like grated applesauce and banana, or a fruit salad.

⟅☙⟆ Hoobies ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Shoma likes to make paintings with her hands.  She serves to entertain him and clear her mind.

⟣ She also likes to make crowns with different types of flowers, even some bracelets and necklaces.

⟣ She has a certain fascination for mathematics and literature, so it is normal to see her do either of the two when she is bored.  The problem is when she has a hard time doing a difficult exercise.

⟣ She Likes to play decorating and decision-making video games. She likes to decorate and combine, so it is normal for her as a hobby to do the odd combination in video games, or in a room.

⟣ It may not count as a hobby, but Shoma loves to watch an episode of a series that she likes or a movie many times to imitate the lines, as if it were some kind of dubbing attempt.

⟅☙⟆ Occupation ⟅☙⟆

None, she doesn't consider herself a student, even if she studies at home.

⟅☙⟆ Relationships ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori, adoptive father.

She did not have a good relationship with him no matter how hard she tried at the time.  It was too obvious the favoritism that he had with Yui, and how she always stayed in the shadow of the blonde.  Despite trying to be like Yui, he could never have any kind of acceptance with her father.

⟣ Yui Komori, adoptive sister.

He adored her with her soul. Yui was Shoma's heroine, and she always tried to follow her example despite her unruly attitude as a child.  The elder Komori was Shoma's world, and he simply wanted to be with her all the time.

Things have changed now. She can't even look at her. The disgust and hatred that he has for that now young woman is simply immense. And believe it when I say she tries; she tries too hard to forget so many things that caused this feeling, but she just can't.

⟣ Yvonne Beauchene, the right hand.

Shoma's only trusted person alongside her family.  Yvonne was Shoma's guardian from the day he arrived at the church, although she had some problems because of it, and that is the reason why she had to leave, but surely nothing bad could happen, right?

⟅☙⟆ Likes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite not having tasted it in recent years, she liked (and still remembers the taste of it, so she still likes) Yvonne's orange tarts a lot.  She used to do them when Seiji was not at home for her, Yui and Shoma.

⟣ She loves music, especially the one that doesn't have any type of letter and is only a beautiful and hypnotizing melody. Her favorite, and also Yvonne's, is "The Vampire Masquerade", which is the melody which Yvonne met her husband.

⟣ Regarding the above, she usually daydreams many times with music in the background and she likes that (because the real world sucks and it is her only way out of the stress and anxiety that she feels most of the time). She sometimes even draws or paints those scenarios that are formed in her head.

⟣ As said before, she likes to play decorating and decision-making video games.  Also, despite having the face of wanting some horror games (these make her heart race and sometimes she has panic attacks), she prefers Animal Crossing by a lot.

⟣ Loves snakes (which are not poisonous), cats and dogs.  Snakes are very good company, and cats and dogs are responsible for keeping her calm.

⟅☙⟆ Dislikes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite having been seen surviving based on it, she does not like meat very much.  Of course, she can bear it, she even likes some (very few) meat dishes !, but there are certain types of meat that remind him too much of ... well, her own meat.

⟣ Obviously, she can't stand going to churches or things related to religion.  She gets too anxious and nervous.

⟣ Her body and mind literally rejects any kind of physical affection if she doesn't know the person very well or doesn't trust them. It's no surprise, considering her personality.  Very few people are lucky enough to even put a hand on her shoulder and not get hurt (Shoma doesn't do it on purpose).

⟅☙⟆ Fears and Phobias ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Somniphobia: fear of sleeping.

Oneirophobia, somniphobia, clinophobia or hypnophobia is an irrational and excessive fear of the act of sleeping.  People who suffer from it enter a state of panic caused by the fear that while they are sleeping something terrible will happen to them, such as the possibility of stopping breathing or that they will never wake up, even knowing that there is no threat, but  they stay awake, presenting insomnia.  Some people who have this phobia associate going to bed with death.

In some cases, panic is unleashed by the belief that the dreams that will be had when sleeping are actually delusions and these will favor falling into a state of permanent madness.  This type of phobia generates a great deal of stress and significant physical and mental deterioration, so it is not uncommon for many people to end up suffering from hallucinations, a fact that further aggravates this type of phobia: fear of sleeping.

Shoma cannot sleep because various things used to happen during these.  She remembers well once a nun (then she disappeared without a trace) entered her room and hanged her, almost killing her if it weren't for Yui screaming for help.

⟣ Theophobia: fear of religion.

Theophobia is the fear or aversion to religion or the gods, and being more common among people who are raised in an environment of iron religiosity.  Theophobia can express itself as fear, aversion, anger, or other negative emotion towards religious practices.  In some cases, the theophobic representation can categorize the deity as an arbitrary totalitarian dictator or, conversely, as unworthy of worship.

It is common among people who suffer from theophobia to avoid religious texts, houses of worship (churches, mosques, synagogues ...) and even the parishioners of a religion.

The young woman lived in a church for years and was not treated as "a daughter of God", but as "an aberration of satan" by her father and certain nuns.  She causes him so much fear that, if there really is a god, she has abandoned her for "not being worthy".  Many things together caused this irrational fear of religion in general.

⟣ Hafephobia: fear of being touched.

Hafephobia is a specific phobic disorder (unlike agoraphobia or social phobia) that causes great suffering in the person who suffers from it.

It is an irrational fear of great intensity that manifests itself when the individual suffering from the phobia comes into physical contact with other people and is touched.  It produces a series of cognitive, physiological or behavioral responses, among which extreme anxiety and the attempt to avoid the feared stimulus to reduce the unpleasant sensation stand out.

Shoma, of course, is working on this and for now she's doing very well, but if she's some stranger, she isn't going to allow herself to be touched or touched by another individual. She is so afraid that every touch will turn into a blow or something to harm her.

⟣ Atazagoraphobia: fear of forgetting.

Atazagoraphobia is the excessive fear of forgetting, which includes both the fear of forgetting and the fear of being forgotten or replaced by others.  Despite the fact that it is a common sensation, atazagoraphobia has been little described in scientific language.  In fact, it has been more pointed out by philosophers and writers who speak of atazagoraphobia as the fear of eternal anonymity.

Shoma was literally forgotten or ignored from a young age, and she doesn't want to go through it again. She doesn't want to feel so cold again that she can't breathe properly or move. She can't, she doesn't want to...

⟅☙⟆ Headcannon Voice ⟅☙⟆

Mia Rodríguez.

⟅☙⟆ Skills ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She is impressively good with knives and razors.  She usually uses them for cooking.

⟣ Literally she can imitate many voices, even male ones.  She uses it to make jokes or for some plan (to get some dessert) that she has in mind.

⟣ She is becoming more and more independent, and that is why she is getting very good at cooking.  She even manages to focus on that rather than other things.

⟅☙⟆ Extra ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She has undiagnosed “attention deficit hyperactivity disorder”.

⟣ She tends to bite her arm or bite her nails if she is very anxious.

⟣ It is difficult for her to accept some changes in her life, but she manages to adapt step by step.

⟣ She likes to play with Yvonne's family, August, her husband, being Shoma's favorite.

⟣ She is considerably innocent of the world around her, but at the same time, she isn't.  She is aware that the world revolves around that filthy green paper, and she is very clever with it.  She knows that her "condition" and her situation may be a weak point, but it is for that reason that she is also careful who she hangs out with.

⟅☙⟆ History ⟅☙⟆

Shoma arrived at the doors of the Komori family church on May 22, 2001, with only a note that said "My name is Shoma, Mom and Dad can no longer take care of me," just three weeks after I was born. She was greeted by one of the local sisters, a favorite of the owner and leader of that church, Seiji Komori. The latter named was not on that cold night, with the snow falling slowly in that beautiful place, so the same sister took care of the girl in his absence.

A girl with blond hair and pink eyes like the petals of a cherry tree approached said sister, curious by the cries that began to be heard.  Seeing her up close, and seeing that beautiful celestial gaze, the seven-year-old girl took the girl in her arms (with the permission of her sister), and did not leave her during that night until the next day. It was no surprise to the sister that her crying stopped as soon as the young Komori began to gently cradle her in her arms.

Still, from the moment Seiji arrived, he knew that something was wrong with the girl, that she was "not human", and that he probably knew whose "gift" it was.  Shoma was unwelcome, and he couldn't show her that in public, not with Yui close to her. Also, the plan deviated. No, he isn't supposed to have two daughters, and she is supposed to be just one more orphan, but the young blonde girl already called her "Shoma Umi Komori", and that could be ... Something dangerous for him.  Obviously, the orders for Shoma to come to his office were not long in coming as soon as he was two years old.

What Shoma saw in her supposed father's room was sealed in her mind, and nothing else. Every time Shoma was called to her father's office, her heart raced because she knew something bad was going to happen.  Every time that happened it was because she Shoma found out more and more that she was going to happen to every sixteen, maybe seventeen-year-old on certain dates. It was because Shoma knew too much about her, and if he couldn't make her forget everything she had seen, then she would silence her to her grave.  Every time Shoma gained courage and told Yui, she was scolded for inventing such things, and she would see her father again for "breaking her promise" to him.

The only one who managed to believe her is the same sister who received her the day Shoma arrived there, although that same sister would get a serious face everytime Sho told her that, she never had to see her father when she told Yvonne.

But, one day, Seiji went a bit far with the punishments, and let the fury just blind him, even if he didn't even regret it afterwards.  Seeing Shoma talk to someone... Important, once this man left the church it just infuriated him. That man's smile when he stopped talking to her and saw him in the eye was not good news at all.  That night, everyone heard the screams of a three-year-old girl resound throughout the establishment, and she was found in the middle of the hall with a desperate Seiji, saying that she had been playing with a poker and that she tripped, with it smacking part of her face.

Shoma began to startle every time someone moved near her, every time someone placed her hand on some part of her body, or when they called her, or when they approached her. She didn't separate from Yui or the sister she trusted so much, and even though it started to be annoying for Yui as she grew older, there were very few times when she was really rude to Shoma due to the fatigue of having her on her back every day three seconds, but they just didn't help Shoma with her fear of being alone, either with Seiji, or with certain nuns. The sister who had her trust steadfastly refused to leave her alone if she wasn't with Yui, although it was only because she slipped out of sight once.

Things escalated to the worse on December 12, 2006, at exactly a quarter past two in the morning.  It was precisely an exhausting day for the girl, because the nun who was taking care of her and her sister had to leave due to family problems, or so they told her.

The albino-haired girl couldn't sleep due to some nightmares, even though she had become very habitual.  The young woman began to hear murmurs and footsteps outside the room that she shared with Yui, and she could make out her father's voice.  She could make out her desperate tone from her ... And, strangely, anger.

Carefully, she got out of her bed without making any noise, but following a little voice in her head, she took the camera that belonged to the blonde that was a gift from her only trusted caregiver, and opened  slowly the door.  Her father had locked himself in her office, and she could hear someone else's voice.  On tiptoe, he approached the door ajar, and looked behind it.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the body of one of the older girls on the ground, tied up and with blood pouring from her head.  That memory is somewhat blurry, but it remembers very well various parts of the conversation between her father and a man with long hair.  She took photos, and to her surprise, they did not have flash, and the photos came out perfectly ... That woman had many strange objects.

Once she finished, she turned, intending to leave, but one of the nuns spotted her, yelling to warn Seiji. Shoma wasted no time running and closing in on her sister's room, which she was awakened by her scream. Shoma told her everything quickly, leaving the photos to hide them, and the little girl didn't hesitate long to jump out the window (it was not the first time that she did that out of boredom), and she ran away from there.  Still, the nun had gone ahead, and it wasn't long to be just a few steps away from her with her father's poker, part of them burning. 

She remembers her sister with hatred seeing it all in horror and just standing there with the camera in her hands, shaking, to simply turn and turn her back on him.

In the blink of an eye, she was dragged by her hair by her "father" and other nuns, and before she had a chance to run away, the girl was thrown into the basement, away from other people, away from Yui, away from  everyone.  She tried to get out, scream, but no one ever came.

Nobody, nobody at all...

And here ends her story.  The young woman, thanks to her curiosity, sealed her fate.  She was destined to die in that place, even if she didn't want that, alone and starving, not knowing if Yui or someone would remember her...

But they say that there is always someone who takes care of us somewhere, right?  Even if she has no hope... Maybe there really is someone, even without her knowing it.

[thewidowsghost]

The Unknown Muggleborn - Chapter 4

3rd Person POV

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers follow Harry from the moment he and Ron left their dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms standing on tip-toe to get a look at him. Harry wishes they wouldn't, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to classes.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were the doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, Harry thinks, because it all seems to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and (Y/N) and Hermione were sure that the suits of amour would walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist when you were late to class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!" The only person that Peeves seemed to get along with was, strangely, (Y/N). When she would pass by him in the halls, he would ask how her day was going. The first time, (Y/N) was shocked, looking surprised at the poltergeist, then she nodded saying, "Uh, its going pretty well."

Even worse than Peeves, Harry thinks, if that was possible, was the caretaker Argus Filch. Harry and Ron manage to get on the wrong side of him on their first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, he was sure that they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone – except perhaps the Weasley twins – and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Marvel, (Y/n)'s black and white kitten had taken to attacking the dust colored feline whenever she had the chance.

Then, once you manage to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Harry quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

(Y/N) enjoyed Wednesday nights where they went out to the tallest tower and learned the names of different planets and stars. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class, in (Y/N)'s eyes, was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns hand been very old when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while the students scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Hermione had told (Y/N) that she actually liked the class, and (Y/N) looked down at her.

"Honestly, Hermione," (Y/N) teases, "I'm not surprised."

One of (Y/N)'s favorite classes so far had to be Charms. Professor Flitwick was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name, he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight, (Y/N) rolling her eyes.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she tells them. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then, she changes her desk into a pig and back again. They were very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon they realized that they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a long time. After they take a lot of complicated notes, they were given a match and told to start turning it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger, and (Y/N) (L/N)-Granger had made any differences to their match. Professor McGonagall shows the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gives the two a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turn out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, hand been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnegan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell goes pink, and starts talking about the weather. For another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry was relieved to find out that he wasn't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards.

There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron, the two had managed to find their way to the Great hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asks Ron as he pours sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answers. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," says Harry. Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor House, but it didn't stop her from giving them a huge pile of homework the night before.

Just then, the mail arrives. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig hadn't brought Harry anything so far. She would sometimes fly in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, she flutters down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and drops a note onto Harry's plate. Harry tears open the letter at once, and it says, in a very untidy scrawl:

Dear Harry,

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.

Hagrid

Harry, borrowing Ron's quill, scribbles, Yes, please, see you later on the back fo the note, and sends Hedwig off again.

(Y/n), who was sitting across from Harry and Ron, and between Hermione and Fred Weasley, had just received a letter herself.

Dear (Y/n),

My name is Remus Lupin. You mother named me as you godfather, and I was good friends with both your mother and Harry Potter's parents when I was at Hogwarts.

I left you a box of presents and letter in you Gringotts vault, in a large wooden box. I didn't know if you had picked it up or not, but I decided that it was time that I sent you a letter at school. I hope you're doing well.

Love,

        Uncle Remus

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry got the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry – he hated him.

Potions lesson took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call and like Flitwick, he pauses at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he says softly, "Harry Potter, our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle snigger behind their hands. Snape finishes calling the names and looks up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made (Y/N) think of a dark tunnel.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," the Potion Master begins. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence follows this little speech. Harry and Ron exchange looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione and Iliana were on the edges of their seats and Hermione looks desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" says Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glances at Ron, who looks as stumped as he was; Hermione, Iliana, and (Y/N) had all raised their hands.

"I don't know, sir," Harry says.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't anything."

He ignores Hermione and (Y/n)'s hands, his gaze flicking between Harry and (Y/N)'s hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asks.

Hermione's hand stretched higher into the air, as far as it would go without her leaving her seat and (Y/N) leaves her hand into the air.

Harry didn't have to faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir," Harry answers.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape taunts, (Y/N) frowning slightly.

Harry forces himself to keep looking into Snape's cold, dark eyes. He had looked through his books at the Dursleys', but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's hand, still glancing between Harry and (Y/N).

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asks, and (Y/N) and Hermione's hands remained in the air, Hermione standing up, her hand stretching towards the dungeon's ceiling.

"I don't know," says Harry quietly. "I think Hermione and (Y/N) know, why don't you try them?"

A few people laugh; Harry catches (Y/n)'s eye, and she winks at him. Snape however was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snaps at Hermione, "(L/N), answer the questions," Snape says, his head snapping to look at (Y/N).

(Y/N) straightens her back, clears her throat. "Monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, but they also go by aconite. A bezoar is a stone taken from a goat that will save you from most poisons, and asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so strong that it is called the Draft of Living Death." (Y/N) rattles off, Harry and Ron exchanging shocked looks.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor," Snape says to (Y/N), before snapping at the other students, "Well, why aren't you coping that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment, and over the noise, Snape says, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor because of Potter's cheek." At this, (Y/N) turns around from her place in front of Ron, and smiles sympathetically at him.

Things didn't really improve much for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape set the first-years into pairs and set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, sweeping around in his black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush shake fang, criticizing everyone but Malfoy and (Y/N), whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at how well (Y/N) had stewed her horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing fills the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools wile Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moans in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarls Snape, clearing the potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpers as boils start popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the Hospital Wing," Snape snaps at Seamus. Then he rounds on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd made you look good if helot it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Harry thinks this is so unfair, he opens his mouth to argue, but Ron kicks him from behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," Ron mutters as (Y/N) turn around to look at him, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

As the first years climb the stairs out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racking and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week – why did Snape hate him so much? At least (Y/N) had won those ten points for Gryffindor.

"Cheer up," Ron tells Harry, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?" he asks.

(Y/n)'s POV

Hermione and I are walking up from the dungeons behind Harry and Ron after the end of Potions Class.

"I noticed something strange," Hermione says.

"What?" I ask.

"Professor Snape seems to like you a lot," Hermione says, looking at me with her brown eyes.

"That was kind of weird," I agree, looking forward, then back at Hermione.

"Maybe he was wondering how you got to be so good at Potions," Hermione suggests. "You were the only one of us with a perfect potion."

"Yeah, that must have been it," I say as we enter the Great Hall.

After lunch, the two of us walk outside to sit by the Black Lake. I see Ron and Harry walking down to Hagrid's Hut, and I hear a faint barking coming from the same direction.

"Hello (Y/n)," comes one, well two, voices.

I look up to see the Weasley twins standing above me and my sister.

"Hey Fred, George," I answer cheerfully.

"Whacha first years doing out here?" Fred asks.

"Well, the first week of school is over," Hermione begins, her frizzy hair blowing in the wind.

"So we're enjoying the last of the summer air," (Y/n) finishes for her sister.

"(Y/n), we have a question for you," George says.

"What?" I ask curiously.

Fred and George look at each other before saying in unison, "Do you like funeral marches.

Hermione bursts into laughter at the question, and Fred and George sit down beside the two of us.

"Well, of course," I say, grinning. "It's my favorite song," I begin to hum a slow funeral march, and the Weasley twins join in, Hermione exchanges a look with me, shrugs, then joins in.

Word Count: 2887 words

Well, I'll see you see on the next chapter.

See y'all!

Love,

           Kaitlynn ❤️😍

[wormstacheangel]

Since your last post implied it I would love to know about your AU recommendations ❤ I am obsessed too!! Thanks in advance 🙏🏻

hello! I hope you don’t mind if I just make a basic list of some of the AU stories I have read or want to read. Not in any order I just went through my bookmarks on AO3 :) Also I need to read more...Under the cut because it got too long! 

Angel's Wild (not gonna lie this is my favorite fic. I have read this almost a dozen times now)

Summary: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels. 

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? 

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Checked Out

Summary:  Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

A Ghost Story

Summary:  Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Patient Love

Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. How do you deal with losing half of yourself when your whole life always revolved around the two of you, like yin and yang and black and white? How do you deal with a broken soul and old demons looming over you with no one to hold you back anymore?

After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator and more than a dozen deployments in both Afghanistan and Iraq, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. When he learns about his friend Jimmy’s death, Dean makes his way back to Kansas with his heart in his throat and broken pieces at his feet.

Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Unbroken

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

While You Were Sleeping

Summary:  A Destiel version of While You Were Sleeping! Castiel is alone and floundering. He has a crush on one of the passengers who passes through his subway station every morning. When the man gets pushed onto the tracks, Cas saves him. But when they get to the hospital there's a mix up and Cas finds himself engaged to a complete stranger. Enter, the rest of the family, including big brother Dean. How will Cas navigate the relationship with his supposed future in-laws? What will he do when Sam finally wakes up? And why can't he stop thinking about Dean?

Purgatory, director's cut

Summary: this doesn’t have a summary but it is dean and cas in purgatory and it’s soooo cool! I promise it’s amazing and worth the read!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise

Summary: Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process.

But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

What Greater Gift

Summary: Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.

From a prompt found on Tumblr. Saw this and I couldn't resist a Destiel AU, and I've been wanting to write Witch!Cas for ages.

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Summary: Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

They end up going through a lot more than a case, unfolding feelings left untold for so long, discovering parts of each other they never intended to uncover.

But will the feelings raging inside them be enough to bring their walls down?

A Fish Out of Water

Summary: To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes.

It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things.

But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

Summary: Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

Just as lost as I

Summary: Dean's been in love with Castiel for centuries. He keeps it buried, never letting himself get too close, but when Castiel goes missing he doesn't hesitate. He's going to find him if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Love Bites

Summary: Cas Novak graduated with a 4.0 in Mathematics, but not even Naomi Novak’s money could help him at job interviews. Anxious and dissatisfied with life, at nearly thirty he’s still washing dishes in the back of his best friend Hannah’s café.Until one night when his cat drags an injured bat into his apartment.

Dean may be a vampire, but he’s not an asshole (well, not much.) He feels like he owes the awkward guy for rescuing him from the cat’s clutches, so he sets about changing Cas's life.

A silly story about families who aren’t quite what they seem, fake boyfriends, and falling in love with someone who’s never, technically, met you.

The Bad Cop, Worse Cop Adventures of Freckles and Feathers

Summary: Miami. A place with beaches, babes, palm trees, and a growing drug-fueled crime organization. To help combat the drugs littering the streets, Captain Singer puts together a Tactical Narcotics Team composed of Miami's two finest and fearless officers. Charming casanova Dean Winchester has fought tooth and nail, rising through the ranks for this position. Trench coat toting Castiel Novak knows more hand-to-hand combative techniques than he does people skills. Between Dean's big mouth and Castiel's take-no-shit attitude, their introductory meeting ends on a less than stellar note and a couple of hard to shake nicknames.

After six months of partnership, the nicknames have stuck and so has the sexual tension. When a murder in the middle of the night launches their biggest lead on a cleverly evasive drug lord, Dean is shocked to find Sam at the center of it. Sam comes clean with his involvement and Charlie, their witness, seeks revenge against the man responsible for killing her friend. As the stakes rise higher so do Dean’s feelings putting everything in jeopardy. Is a cop with everything to prove, a cop with everything to lose, one computer hacker witness, and a damn good ADA enough to save the day?

The Care and Feeding of Castiel

Summary: Dean’s quiet time in the bunker is interrupted by some stranger-than-usual behavior from his angel. Oh, and feathers...there are a lot of those, too.

First Gentleman Wanted

Summary:  President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

The Graveyard Shift

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

The Path of Fireflies

Summary: After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Summary: Heaven is white.Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.-Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Doing this made me realize I need to read more longer fics. I usually just read the short ficlets on tumblr but I need to broaden my horizon and read more. But yes! These are the AU’s currently in my bookmarks. Hope you find one to enjoy :)

[bewaretheidesofmarchyall]

Soulmate Shenanigans Part Two (Electric Boogaloo)

Good morning (or at least, I’ve started writing this in the morning! Who knows when I’ll complete it)!

I’m continuing my Soulmate AU Tomfoolery (you can find part one here)

Prompt #2

There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate.

Warnings for death mentions, and temporary major character death

World Building

Everyone blames the mad scientist.

Which is fair. When someone makes billions of clocks in about a weeks time, each declaring when everyone in the world (including people who wouldn’t be born for decades) would find their soulmate, it’s considered to polite to stick around to answer questions

Instead, Logan disappeared to who-knows-where and left everyone else to pick up the pieces. 

Rude.

Ever since the early 1910′s, the clocks have existed, one for each person. When any kid is born, the first thing a new parent does is rush to the register to see when they’ll meet their soulmate. It’s a big deal.

If your child isn’t going to meet their soulmate in the next 13 years, they are told the exact number on their 13th birthday

Philosophers have been enraged by all of this. Is free will a thing? Is existence a lie?

Non-philosophers will often close their curtains when they see a wandering philosopher, which are easy to identify by their look of abject confusion and plucked chickens.

Characters

Remus: Remus pretended that he didn’t care about who his soulmate was when his 13th birthday rolled along. He wasn’t the best actor.

His brother seemed happy when he found out that it would be sixteen years until he found his soulmate. 29 wasn’t a bad age at all, considering that some people would have to wait until they were old and in a nursing home, or would never even meet their soulmate at all.

Remus waited for his parents to tell him. They gave each other nervous looks, and he was convinced for a few seconds that he didn’t have a soulmate after all.

The actual answer was much weirder

526 years. 526 years until he met his soulmate.

Remus said a silent thank you to his soulmate for making him functionally immortal. After all, that meant that he’d survive until then!

HE WAS IMMORTAL

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Now, whenever someone would try to say something like, “Why do you like serial killers? Planning to become one?”, he could just look them dead in the eye and say,

I’m going to outlive you, Brian

(On an unrelated note, Brian disappeared a few months later. It actually wasn’t Remus’s fault, surprisingly. One minute, he was at a museum, the next, gone)

Remus would be fine with never finding his soulmate, honestly. Connection is nice, but being eldritch is more fun.

Virgil: Virgil didn’t want to be immortal

Sure, he wasn’t a fan of dying in practice, but in theory he didn’t want to live to over 250!

His family and friends were going to die, and he’d have to live through it. And for what? To meet a soulmate? Who gave a fuck? Virgil had never wanted a romantic relationship in his life, and he didn’t think that a 526 year wait was going to change that.

He was determined to find his soulmate early so that he could live a normal life like a normal person who doesn’t cause additional distress to the wandering philosophers.

 Plot

It was easy to find Remus. Local Child Will Live To Over 500 makes a good headline, and Remus wasn’t one to shy away from attention.

When Virgil was 16, he packed his bags and ran away from home to go meet his soulmate. He didn’t ask Janus how he got the bus tickets, but he did ask him to tell his parents that he’d be okay.

Virgil knocked on the door, and waited. Someone who looked almost exactly like the news site photo answered. The conversation went something like this:

Virgil: So, YOU’RE Remus McFricking Sanders-

Roman: Nope, not him, whatever he said isn’t my fault.

[Roman slams door]

Virgil was pretty sure that he had, in fact, met Remus, and he was just being annoying. Roman believed that his brother had just manage to piss off yet another person.

Virgil retreated to a restaurant, and looked up the photo on the news article, just to make sure. No denying it, that was him! Same eyes, same hair, same general face-wait. 

Remus had a nose that had obviously been broken at least once. The guy who’d greeted him at the door had definitely been in less scrapes than his soulmate.

Whoops.

Meanwhile, Remus had a plan to avoid Virgil at all cost. Virgil had tried to shy away from press attention, but he tracked down a photo eventually. 

And when his brother told him that some emo with “awesome” eyes had turned up on the doorstep looking for him, he had a bad feeling.

Well, spooky boy wasn’t going to cost him his long future.

And so the dance began.

In one corner, Virgil, who had spite, stubbornness, and a deadline on his side (he had to get home to his parents eventually)! Never discount a spiteful Virgil!

In the other corner, Remus, who has nothing on his side but fate. Fate, however, has a sense of humor, and Remus read enough old myths as a child to know that whatever happens can’t be changed by petty human actions.

Virgil tries breaking and entering many times, each failing in a more ridiculous way. He is a careful, but Remus is practically Kevin McCallister in terms of traps, and he fails to meet his soulmate face to face all day and all night.

They do get to have some verbal exchanges, which are pretty much

Virgil: You think you want the existential hell of immortality??

Remus: Oh, fuck off, I’m going to have the best vampire aesthetic!

Virgil: The vampire aesthetic is wonderful, but can we do everything for aesthetic?

Both at the same time: Yes. Yes we can.

And then Virgil is herded out of the house by Remus’s pet rats.

However, the final encounter goes a little differently. No witty quips, just Virgil picking the lock of yet another window, and then a very specific sound.

Have you ever heard a stubborn emo get pulled into a portal in the spacetime continuum?

It’s a distinct sound that is along the lines of loud crash-The fu-whirring noises-nyoom-eerie silence 

Remus didn’t give a second thought before diving into the portal after him. If he had, he would have thought hey, this’ll probably bring us face to face, something I’ve been avoiding or maybe jumping into random portals in a stupid idea or I’m going to grab a weapon before just running at it. But his first impulse was to make sure his snarky soulmate hadn’t died, so into the portal he went.

The Year: 2550

The Portal: Glows a lot, thank you for asking

The Reason: A mad scientist has only one thing left to lose, and is terrified as it slips away

Logan: Logan was a geek at heart. He loved science, in both theories and practice. He probably should have toned down his obsession with Nikola Tesla. He wanted to travel to the sky, and touch the stars, and watch time like a film reel. 

Time travel was his passion. If people could travel across the physical seas, why not the metaphorical ones of time?

It was pure luck that he actually figured it out, but figure it out he did. Logan loved his creation.

He wanted to create a million inventions, but more importantly he wanted Patton to see them all.

If there was one thing he loved more than science, it was him. 

The two kept each other from drifting off into the stars, or sinking into the dirt because they’re too afraid of being rude. One of Logan’s favorite memories was he and Patton running through the St. Louis fair, giggling at terrible puns and sharing a quick kiss out of sight, before catching the next exposition. 

Patton was kind, and caring, and knew how to talk to people to get them to like him, and was just good. He was good. 

Logan dealt only in facts. And it was a fact that it would have been better, more fair for Logan to have died in the fire.

It was a fact that he didn’t (even though it felt like it sometimes). It was a fact that Patton had been the one to notice the smoke. It was a fact that the love of his life waited for a few seconds in the doorway, trying to call the cat out. It was a fact that, after Logan was out of the house, he turned around to see the doorway collapse. 

He found a way back into the house, but it took too long. 

Fact: Humans can only endure severe smoke inhalation for a few minutes before dying.

Logan took one look at his time machine, somehow still undamaged. He’d never tested it before, but he really didn’t have a choice, so he kissed Patton on the forehead and stepped into a portal.

Back To The Plot

Virgil and Remus immediately knew that they were in the 26th century. 

How? There was a sign!

Hey! If You Happen To Be A Time Traveler, This Is 2550! Check In With The Lord Cerebrum To Know More, Unless You Don’t Have A License, In Which Case

You Know What Happens

They don’t have much time to mull over this before Remus tries to murder Virgil. He’s not IMMORTAL any more, and it’s not FAIR, and it’s all HIS fault!

This is where we enter the Rivals To Friends (While On The Run From Time Management) section

Remus and Virgil have many adventures escaping from Time Management, while learning to appreciate the other as a friend. They are platonic soulmates, after all!

But Time Management is nothing if not patient, and the boys are caught eventually (you know how it goes. You forget to check around for listening ears, you use 21st century slang, and suddenly a single “yeet” and a “same” get you dragged before the Lord Cerebrum)

A Handy Dandy Guide To The Year 2550 (transcript from the Handy Dandy Infomercial Station)

Hey, time travelers! I know that everyone likes zipping around the time-stream and seeing what the fates throw at them to keep them from murdering their grandpa, but we have to do this by the Rules!

If you break the rules, you know what happens

The Year 2550 is protected by Logos Industries’s time dilation filter, to ensure that no one gets the wrong idea about going free range!

If you have a license, just proceed to the Lord Cerebrum to get your stamp of approval and philosopher disguise for the maximum positive effect! After all, Logos Industries needs funding to protect us all!

If you don’t have a license, you’ll see the Lord Cerebrum too!

Have a Handy Dandy Time :)

Back To The Plot

The boys are led through a menacing government facility, taken to see the Lord Cerebrum. They try to ask questions, but Time Management is rather disinterested in their fleeting existence, so nothing much gets answered.

The final destination is a computer room, where the Lord Cerebrum sits. His form was half hologram, half skin, his age unchanging for 526 years, and recognizable at first sight to Remus

Lord Cerebrum, aka Brain, aka Brian: Hey, Remus, what exactly did you say about outliving me?

Brian: Brian was a dick. There’s no other way to put it. 

He and Remus used to be friends, sticking brand new phones in water to see what would happen and planning out pranks (they made their history teacher think that she was being haunted by the ghost of Charlemagne!), but things changed, and by 8th grade his dickishness was on full display

It was really easy to get away with being cruel to Remus. He naturally unnerved people, and anyone in a position of power immediately knew he was trouble (which was true), so when there was a conflicting story between a star student and the kid who poured ketchup in the principal’s desk, you can guess who’d always get believed.

Brian was a dick, but he was 13. He could have grown later in life, regretted his ways (or at least stopped), but instead he touched an antique time machine on a museum tour of the Clock House (home of Logan, the famous inventor of soulmate clocks). 

He’d been planning to snap off the handle and pin it on Remus (or maybe Roman for variety), but instead

Crash-what the-whirring noises-nyoom-eerie silence

And Brian arrived in the year 2520, the first of many time travellers.

He became a celebrity. The parts of him lost in the wormhole were quickly replaced with state-of-the-art holograms, and his fame went to his head.

Thirty years of good marketing later, he was the Lord Cerebrum. And when a desperate mad scientist came crashing through a portal of his own, it was easy to get him to work for him under the promise that Brian would let him save his “Patton” once he made some technology for him.

He recognized Logan from the museum. He knew who’s fault it was that he was trapped travelling through time, whirling through the portal, praying and promising and in the end just screaming. Brian knew who was to blame for the fact that he couldn’t tell how much of his body would stay when the power went out.

So the tasks got longer and more complicated, Patton dangled like a carrot over Logan’s head. 

Fact: Logan would never win, and someday Brian would get tired of this game and there would only be one genius left in 2550.

Back To The Plot: Virgil punched the Lord Cerebrum in the face. He didn’t know all of the context, but his best friend seemed not to like the guy, and he seemed evil, so he punched the overlord in the face.

Brian was offended, and abandoned all plans for a monologue in favor of leaving them to die.

The most fitting way to do away with a time traveler is to send them everywhere at once. It’s an awful death, one where molecules are slowly lost as the traveler in question hits walls and trees and memories.

The duo managed to survive five or so timelines, before the machine miraculously shut off. A mad scientist ran into the room, unscrewed the vents in the walls, and told the teenagers that they’re late.

Things are explained as they escape the facility.

Things

Logan needed a way to break the time dilation filter. He did the math (which he tried and failed to explain to the boys), and it was determined that Remus and Virgil had the most butterfly effect capabilities to influence this particular event

Basically, removing them from the timeline changed things just enough for Logan to find the chink in the filter’s armor. 

The duo’s job is done, and Logan is only sorry that he didn’t find them earlier to get them home.

Back To The Plot

Everything seems like it’s going to be fine, and the duo are almost able to go home, when the Lord Cerebrum finds them.

CLIMATIC SHOWDOWN

An Ending

In the end, Brian is sent to the 22th century, the year where nearly all of humanity were turned into giant rats for some reason

Logan found his way back to the 1910′s, and used the 26th century technology to heal his love. The time machine burned in the fire. Good. Space travel was where it was at, anyway.

Virgil had so much explaining to do to his parents

Remus knew that no one would believe him. Roman did.

Virgil and Remus stayed the closest of friends. They dressed up as vampires for Halloween. They stuck together. They got to grow up. 

More soulmate shenanigans, amiright?

[alilbihh]

hocus pocus — 2

masterlist  previous part  next part

pairing: maknae line x reader

summary: jungkook wags his tail and his eyes look like truffles. jimin drinks blood out of juice boxes and bendy straws and tries to wink but ends up blinking both his eyes closed. taehyung likes the ocean and all kinds of art and apologizes to rocks. you don’t know if they want to take you out the date way or the assassination way and somehow you think it’s both.

genre: werewolf!jungkook, vampire!jimin, hybrid!taehyung, witch!reader; humor (??); poly!au (in the future!)

words: 7.2k

You don't really know how you got roped into this.

Maybe you hadn't. Maybe Namjoon drank a luck potion that day and managed to get through to you. Maybe he used one of his manipulative tactics on you that he seems to do to all his customers. ("Or maybe you're soft," you hear Namjoon say. You smack him upside the head).

But it's not all bad. His shop smells like sage and rosemary and butter cookies and something soft all around, so that the edges are safe enough to press against. You wonder if your own store smells this homey to other people.

The whole store is like a library. The walls can barely even be considered walls anymore, stacked from top to bottom with books - most with cracked spines, well-worn pages and a musty smell that spoke of ages long past. No low hanging vines or roses gossiping to the nearby hydrangeas and no Jungkook trotting around in oversized clothes.

There's none of that, but when you close your eyes you can almost feel a gentle breeze, the muted buzz of cicadas, a bird fluttering somewhere overhead, as if you hadn't stepped inside a building at all. Namjoon's store is a different kind of gentle. Like something wise hangs in the air, just out of reach.

There are random items scattered about, and you remember what Namjoon once told you. How his store is dedicated to the lost. Objects that they value most are scattered about neatly. There's an assortment of jewelry and photos and family heirlooms and paintings. You smile lightly at the wedding rings and grimace at the less than decent items. (There are more dildos than one would think).

Sometimes people wander inside without remembering what inclined them to do so, drawn to items they don't remember they'd lost and items they'd been searching their whole lives for. Objects appear without warning, waiting to be found by the lost. It's how Namjoon met Seokjin. It's how the two met the ginger cat that walked in one day and has been here so long Namjoon even named him.

("I say we call him Ginger." You'd suggested, your cheek pressed to their horribly uncomfortable couch, and you immediately feel claws digging into your back.

"The cat hates it," Seokjin says, popping a cheeto into his mouth with conviction.

Namjoon nods solemnly, "It is kind of a terrible name," he admits.

"OH!" You say with mock surprise, twisting your head like they do in those terrible horror movies just to glare at Namjoon. "What an interesting opinion, soundcloud user Runch Randa."

Seokjin cackles and the cat makes a strange choking sound, almost like it's laughing too. Namjoon's ears flush red.

The weight momentarily disappears from your back, only to reappear seconds later. "Oh, yep, that's a male alright."

"Jin-hyung!" Namjoon yelps, horrified, "You can't just- just do that without asking!"

"Joon, babe, it's a cat. I'll say please next time, okay?")

It was then decided that his name would be Kimbap. He's grown a bit chubbier than before, and you wonder what Seokjin has been feeding him for that to happen so quickly.

The silence reminds you of why you're here in the first place. ("I'm being used."

"NO you are NOT! Just- think of it as a favor to your old pal Namjoon."

"You're insufferable.")

You've mostly been idling around the counter so far, only helping the middle aged lady that had walked in a few hours back. She'd been drawn to a pair of old baby shoes. "I tried selling them once. My husband didn't let me." She smiled lightly, the shoes small and snug and delicate as they sat in the palm of her hands. "They've never been worn, after all."

She walked out without another word, and for a moment too long you wondered how brave Namjoon must be to hear these stories every day.

"Hello?" A tiny voice whispers, a lilting tone of wonder. You search around and spot the tip of a head by the edge of the counter, wild strands sticking out every which way. Leaning forward reveals a little girl just barely shorter than the counter, chubby cheeks and all as she makes grabby hands at you. "Are you a witch?" She asks with stars in her eyes.

"Why, yes I am!" You grin, and in a blink and a snap of your fingers the lights overhead turn off, the candles' flames flickering alight one by one. She stares on in wonder, mouth agape.

It's then you're reminded of your true reason of being here.

"Would you like your future told?"

To lie to children, that is.

You have no idea how to work this thing.

The crystal ball is perched on some sort of decorative table centerpiece that Namjoon likely found on Walmart, and if the crystal ball itself has any magical properties you certainly don't know how to make use of them. It's colored a charming, rustic gold that you're not sure whether is spray painted or natural but it's pretty all the same.

Nevertheless, making up people's futures has been fun. The cheery little werewolf girl is too energetic and will likely hurt herself in the near future if she's too careless. The human with the pigtails will find love soon in the most unconventional of places. The bratty fox hybrid boy that kicked your shin is straight up going to end up in jail (but will find someone to help him through his struggles, you added just for his parents not to potentially sue you).

Namjoon walks in at some point just as you're done performing a magic trick on a wide eyed boy that's no older than nine, the highest form of magic you can perform, most likely. He leaves with a skip in his step, little daisy tucked into his shirt pocket. Purity and innocence.

The real store owner watches the little boy leave softly before turning towards you with a raised brow.

"Namjoon, my man! Are you finally here to save me?" You cheer, clasping your hands together. The traitor in question pats your head softly, and you instantly deflate.

"Not yet, Y/n-ah, just here to get something." He says with his back turned to you, climbing the ladder on the wall in search of a book, much like Belle does in Beauty and the Beast. Namjoon is both the beauty and the beast, in this case. Your instincts tell you to run while his back is turned, but something tells you that you won't get too far before someone inevitably finds and snitches on you because you're surrounded by traitors.

"You came all this way to get a book?" You ask, stupefied.

"Spell book. I gotta be quick though, Jin-hyung says that I'm on bathroom cleaning duty if I don't hurry up."

You laugh at that, "You know he'll just find a way to make you clean the bathroom anyway, right?"

"Yeah. I hate him. He's the devil."

"He's your boyfriend."

He sighs, a fond thing. "Yeah." And that's that.

Kimbap climbs onto the counter with ease, despite how chunky he's gotten. You pat him solemnly as you glare at Namjoon with all your might.

"Mind telling me what you're doing that's important enough to have me be here, lying to innocent children?" You quip, looking away from your glaring to coo at Kimbap nuzzling into your hand.

"You're actually quite good at reading people. The ball does look like you don't know how to use it, though," he says as he pulls out a book that's so thick it's more of a dictionary than anything. "The ball is sad." He adds.

"The ball doesn't have feelings."

"It doesn't," Namjoon agrees as he slides down the ladder, and for a second you worry for his safety as his knees wobble when he reaches the ground, book safely in hand. "It's not the ball that has magic. It's the air that does. Everything that does. The world is magical, holds more magic than you'd think, you just have to be the one to look for it. The ball is more of a handy tool." He grins and for a second he looks too wise. Too grown. Something about his tone makes you feel like he knows more than he's letting on. It makes you feel small.

"You wanna take a peek into my future, then?" You ask, and you're answered by a pair of knee-deep dimples.

"Can't. Tried once, unintentionally. The memories are all fuzzy." He looks a bit too happy as he says it. A little too fond.

"What does that mean?"

He pats your head again as he leaves, answers over his shoulder, "It means I'm in your future." The muted buzz of cicadas and fluttering of birds and the gentle breeze are ever so present as Namjoon opens the glass doors, steps into the outside. "Your future is awfully warm, though," he adds right before leaving, right before he trips over the doorstep and nearly falls face first into the concrete. He rights himself, stepping out calmly as if it never happened. You're too bewildered to laugh.

"I think it was destiny? Like, it wasn't my lack of housing options that brought us together. I think Y/n's, like, my soul-roommate."

Bright robes rustle as Seokjin props his elbow on the counter, resting his chin on his hand with a sigh. Jungkook flinches when the older male's too-large wings skim at the edge of a nearby bookshelf, and it rocks back and forth for a second too long before regaining its balance. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Jungkook takes a good look at his very much angelic friend, the man in question squinting his eyes suspiciously at him.

"So you mean your soulmate?" He says, voice flat, eyes narrowed.

"No, hyung," Jungkook exasperates, "My soul-roommate. As in, I wanna be her roommate forever."

Seokjin squints. Downs his glass of water as if it were vodka.

Now, Seokjin could tell it like it is right now and rid Jungkook of his stress like wringing out a washcloth, fast and easy and with little repercussions. But Seokjin will not. Seokjin will let this drag on until the man figures out what do himself.

This isn't the kind of decision he can make, anyway. "Alright. That's nice, Jungkook-ah."

"Yeah! Yeah. It is." Jungkook picks up a broom Seokjin's wings had knocked over, apologizes quietly to it before placing it back against the wall.

The angel drums his hands on the wooden counter, looking up in thought. "And what about that Jimin fellow?"

Jungkook trips over his own feet on his way to the tray of crystals, and the older laughs almost maniacally at him. "What about him?" Jungkook slurs.

"Nothing, nothing, I've seen enough." He says with a laugh, wings fluttering in delight with a mind of their own.

Jungkook huffs indignantly, reaches for a nearby crystal colored a soft purple, begins polishing it aggressively with his apron. It warms in his palm, like it's been resting near a fire.

"Who's that?" Jungkook's ears perk at Jin's soft exclamation, and he looks out the window curiously.

There's a deer hybrid by the door.

The buck looks through the glass with an almost childlike curiosity, eyes lighting up like a fire. Something inclines him to walk in like it does with every customer, so he does; bending a bit so his antlers fit through the door frame, and Jungkook can't help but consider the gesture to be the most adorable thing.

The boy's sneakers squick, squeak, squish as he steps further into the building, marveling at the tiny expanse of the shop Jungkook considers his home. A lone bulb hangs by the shelves of poetry, its glow muted until the boy steps in to read some of the spine titles. Jungkook can't help but feel like the room has gotten a tad bit warmer, a tad bit brighter.

The werewolf watches the hybrid pad towards the tray of crystals. Some of them are raw and jagged and the size of his palm; others are smooth and fitting enough to be made into a necklace, maybe even a pair of earrings. The boy reaches for a purple one buffed into an oval, marvels at it before pressing it to his chest.

"Do you like purple?" Jungkook asks once he gets close, laughs as the boy jumps. He continues, "Amethyst. It's pretty. It cleanses one's energy field of negative influences and is known to relieve stress and dispel anger, fear, and anxiety. Also alleviates sadness."

The hybrid stares at him. The hybrid stares at him because there's a werewolf talking about energy as if it's a tangible thing and telling him rocks have magical properties. "Rocks can't do that."

"Hey!" Jungkook yelps, grabs at a nearby rock, holds it close to his chest, "You can't call them rocks. They're crystals, crystals." 

"Oh." the buck blinks once, twice. He stares at the not-rock in his hand. Pats it a little bit. "Sorry."

"s'okay."

The boy looks small tucked into his jacket like that, and Jungkook watches as he fiddles with the zipper a bit, holds it between his fingers. "You work here?" The boy asks as softly as a voice can get, walking past a lamp that warms to life beside him.

"Yeah- yeah! I do. Work here, that is." Jungkook replies, just as soft, working at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. The boy's gaze is so so warm. Something urges Jungkook to shift his gaze to the ground and the other can't look away.

Jungkook laughs lightly as the boy sneezes suddenly, sniffles and rubs at his nose. "Is it the smell? It's quite a lot, isn't it? It messed with me in the beginning, too." He adds, tone a little too fond.

"Ah, yeah, I guess. Smells strong here, but, like. Nice." The boy says, steps in close to a vase filled with orchids and lilies and peonies and gardenias; femininity, purity, love, trust. He feels as a leaf curls around his outstretched finger like it's inviting him closer, welcoming him home. And he laughs, softly, like he can hear the flowers' hushed whispers.

"What do you think flowers talk about?" He mutters, and Jungkook almost flusters at the low rasp of his voice. Daegu, it comes to the werewolf all at once. Daegu boy. Jungkook's struck with the thought that he's never been to Daegu but it kinda already feels like home.

"Uh. I don't know. I've done some embarrassing things in front of them, so. Probably that."

The other laughs, movements syrupy slow as he stands up straight, antlers towering over the werewolf's form. Jungkook kinda wants to touch it. Kinda wants to touch all of him. Kinda wants to drown himself in the other's voice, the rough low of it, kinda wants to get his lips sticky with it. "Looks like they like you, though," he adds.

"I guess I'm just too charming, huh?" The boy says and then does something incredible. Something so mind boggling and out of place and so so endearing it has Jungkook's heart do something uncertain in his chest; an inverted beat, everything backwards, all the blood pumping the wrong way.

The boy winks.

Oh no.

Jungkook makes a weird noise from the back of his throat and he guesses there's something on his face because in just a second the boy laughs, laughs so hard it's like his heart is trying to crawl its way out his chest, like it's too big for him to hold on his own. It's beautiful. Jungkook wants to live in that sound, listen to it for hours on repeat like a broken radio.

It seems that's when the magic breaks because the boy remembers he's here to do business and takes notice of the weight in his hand, looks down at the crystal in his palm. "How much is this?"

Jungkook blinks. "Oh. I don't know. Y/n's responsible for that kinda stuff." He suddenly smiles, cheekily adding, "guess it's free!"

A laugh tumbles out the boys' lips, big and unreserved. Jungkook thinks he's just like that. Open and honest, easily able to light up a room with just a smile. "I can't just take it for free," he says as he places it back on the tray where he'd taken it.

"Sure you can! I'm encouraging it!"

The boy shakes his head, gaze flickering back to the crystal on the tray. He remembers how warm it felt on his palm, fitting like it belonged.

"Can crystals really heal you?" He asks, looking at the werewolf from beneath his lashes. He continues and the words don't feel like they're his, like someone's plucking them from out of him, "It just. Doesn't make sense. For it to be that easy, I mean."

Jungkook smiles and it melts the boy down to his bones. The younger boy picks up the crystal, tap tap taps at it like it'll give him the answers he needs. Offers it with an outstretched hand and a knowing smile. "They can heal you if you believe they can." Jungkook rolls his eyes with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "Just take it, you nerd."

Daegu boy bites his lips cherry red. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," Taehyung's so close Jungkook can see flecks of gold in his eyes, like leftover traces of the sun. He takes the crystal. And then in a blink he's gone, hands in his pockets as he trudges back out the way he came, "I'm Taehyung, by the way!"

"I'm Jungkook!" A goofy smile and a silly wave. The boy waves back. Ends up hitting his antlers on the doorway, backtracks with his head clutched in hands, and Jungkook openly laughs.

The boy leaves and the werewolf is struck with the thought that maybe he falls in love way too easily.

Something about today feels slightly off and you have no idea what it is.

Maybe it's just the lumpiness of the bed. Not the actual bed, just the jacket Jungkook had left laying around that's currently digging into your back as you lay lifelessly on your bed. You think you're having a crisis, a midlife crisis at the peak of your adulthood. And that's cool. That's fine. Totally normal and not at all disconcerting.

You feel a shadow tower over your body, and you peel open an eye to spot the very familiar that's causing your back such anguish, his brow cocked with purpose. "Why do you look like that?"

"huh?" you hum, and you think you're blinking but it's like someone is doing it for you, like you're drifting in and out of consciousness. "Look like what?"

He snorts like the answer is obvious, and it probably is. "Like someone just told you your ass is flat."

"That is rude and I am offended." You say without a hint of anger in your voice, and you briefly think of how that's probably your normal tone with Jungkook. Kinda soft and kinda playful and a fondness hidden just under your tongue, trying to wriggle its way out.

Jungkook says something akin to noona, do you want me to tie your hair for you? and noona, are you going to hyung's party? and noona, did you brush your teeth today? all at once, and at first you're mildly offended at the last one before you swipe your tongue over the front of your teeth and realize you haven't.

Then his words somewhat catch up to you and your brows furrow in question, "What party?"

"Ah. Namjoon-hyung's and Seokjin-hyung's. Something about an anniversary of theirs, but it's been less than a year? So I don't really know what they're celebrating? I think it's a pre-one-year-anniversary-party. Which is stupid because why don't they just celebrate it when it's actually been a year? I don't know. It's kinda wild."

You laugh at that, sitting up groggily and it's then that your familiar releases a little shriek, "Yikes! Do you want me to hire an exorcist? I think there's, like, three of them just around the block, I can run and get them for you!"

Your feet pad over the somewhat cold floor, and you slap the man's chest as you pass him by, his laughter following you on your way to the bathroom, and you can hear his tail bumping wildly against the wall as it wags carelessly.

At some point while you're brushing your teeth Jungkook pads lightly beside you, joining you with a toothbrush of his own. You're both staring at each other from your reflections in the mirror and you try to give him a smile but it results in toothpaste dribbling down your chin and Jungkook laughs so hard he spits��a bit on the mirror.

Some odd sense of peace engulfs you then and it feels oddly dreamy, like an early morning breeze. Jungkook opens the windows to let some fresh air in while he makes sleepy sounds and you just kind of sit there, looking but not seeing, thinking of nothing and everything.

It's an early friday and the shop won't open for another two days so you have nothing to do but you feel like you do. You think it's the stress getting to you but you're not sure if that's it. You wonder if maybe Namjoon's psychic powers are contagious and your third eye has opened without your knowledge.

You watch as Jungkook pads over to your shared kitchen; the one that doesn't have your cauldron and your stove and your potions like the one just downstairs by the shop does. In fact, this one doesn't have a stove at all. Sometimes Jungkook walks all the way down to the other kitchen just to make proper food because it's not like you have the money to buy another stove, anyway. ("Jungkook we don't have a stove how are you going to make chicken nuggets?"

"But I have a lighter and determination."

"This is a bad idea and you're going to regret it.")

(He regretted it.)

Actually, you're not quite sure when Jungkook started living here. You can barely even remember how it was before Jungkook, when it was just you living alone in the apartment right above your dainty little shop, and now you can't imagine waking up without his sleepy sounds and your playful banter. It feels surreal. You wonder if it will last. You want to wish that it will, but you wonder if it's selfish.

You come to at the tragic sight of the familiar in question aggressively pouring cereal into his bowl, the milk already inside splashing around in waves. You sigh and stand up, the couch beneath you squeaking in protest.

Jungkook smiles as you come to a stop beside him. "G'morning," he says so so softly, like it's the first time he sees you- pretty little grin, pretty little curve to his lips.

"hi." you say, just as soft. This is nice. Everything is nice and smells and feels like Jungkook; solid. Safe. A comfort.

"You wanna watch Your Name?" he asks suddenly into the open air, and you laugh quietly at his determined eyes.

"That's like your de-stressing mechanism."

"Hey, it's valid."

And so it's a quiet friday morning. Jungkook has Kiki's Delivery Service queued and he's hoping there will be time to watch Ponyo like he's wanted to for so long and the afternoon will pass by like that, the two of you sitting around and watching movies and nature documentaries and tossing popcorn kernels at each other- sometimes with purpose, other times without.

Jungkook speaks up somewhere between shrimps being able to see colors we don't even know exist and lizards literally shooting blood out their eyes, and you turn away from the nature documentary to face him, "So are you going to that party? Jin-hyung said there'll be cake and mario kart and many people and stuff." He says before stuffing a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

You blink for a few seconds in thought because yes yes yes but no no no. Yes because you love your friends and you love being able to see them happy and you love seeing Namjoon lose to Jin at mario kart for the umpteenth time. But no because the last time you met a new person you almost fell in love with them so no, you will not be meeting anyone new for a while.

(Well, maybe not necessarily in love, you tell yourself. That seems excessive. More like a maybe-love. More like a I could love you, if you let me).

"I'll think about it," you lie through your teeth, and the werewolf pretends to be convinced as he flashes you a little smile that's knowing in a way that makes you feel a bit small.

"Okay," he says, shrugs, turns back to the TV that's now saying something about dolphins being insomniacs but you're too caught up in your familiar's nonchalance to pay any attention to it.

The couch is a lumpy disaster. A huge mistake. Possibly the biggest one of your life. You kinda wish couches had never been born as you try for the fifth time to adjust your legs only to fail miserably, settling for fiddling with your glass.

This is downright blasphemy. Outrageous. You don't know how you got here or what's happening, but Jungkook disappeared somewhere in the crowd and Jin is, as expected, beating some poor person's ass at mario kart, and Hoseok and Yoongi are getting a bit too intimate by the sugar cookie icing, and you think the punch you're drinking has more alcohol than you were accounting for.

You think you should chew the gummy worms that are mixed into the punch better because there are more than a few instances in which you forget they're in there and end up choking on them. But it's fine because the home you're in smells like scorched firewood and maple syrup and Kimbap is sitting beside you on the couch, dressed very politely and with a little bow tie tied to his collar.

You'd tried to get up once, tried to face the crowd. Tried to face Jungkook's admittedly inevitable betrayal. There were plenty of faces you recognized, some you didn't, and at some point you were trying to push through the people cheering for Seokjin when your hand brushed over someone's chest; pecs. Pecs means Jungkook.

He took one look at your face and quite literally dived and disappeared into the crowd to avoid your glare, and you pretend he's escaped your grasp even when you see his bumbling form run into the kitchen three seconds later.

So here you are, back on the lumpy, overused couch of the infamous fiends that are Namjoon and Seokjin, petting their cat. Kimbap is a funny fellow. Always with his head held high, confident as he strides from one corner to the next and paws at your ankles for attention. You strive to be Kimbap.

"You have a good life," you say to the cat, petting lazily at his head. "Eat, sleep, some adventure, more sleeping, definitely more eating. You don't have to worry about love or being alone or - or rent."

Kimbap blinks, one eye then the other. Yawns. Promptly whacks the middle of your face with the tip of his tail. "Fucking punk," you mutter.

So you're at a party. You're never usually at parties, but the owners of the distasteful couch will have been together for one year as of three months from now, and you don't know why they don't just celebrate it three months from now when it's actually been a year, but the punch tastes bad enough to be considered good and Kimbap is nice enough company and everyone's having fun so you don't mind much.

"Why, hello there." A voice says from above you, and your shoulders stiffen and your grasp on the punch cup tightens.

You look up and it's Jimin. Jimin, the vampire. Jimin, Jungkook's crush. Jimin, a Raphaelite painting come to life, dark pants and a shirt with so many buttons undone it can't even be considered a shirt, more like a suggestion of one.

He plops on the couch beside you just as Kimbap scrambles away- another traitor- and you look away from his collarbones to see the boy grinning, openly and unabashedly, fangs and all. He's definitely not alcohol drunk. He's drunk off something a little more intangible, maybe.

"Look," he mutters but you're already looking. At his eyes and his hands and his stupid eyelashes. Spider-leg long eyelashes. No one should feel this overwhelmed by eyelashes.

Jimin takes one look at you and promptly swallows his glass of vodka as if it were water. You think he's smiling when he turns to look at you again but you're looking at the ground, sinking deeper into the couch - cheeks aflame, human fondue. You think you can become one with the couch. Maybe it's not that bad. You pat it fondly.

The vampire laughs with his whole body, doubling over, almost toppling off the couch. Your breath hitches a bit but you try not to think too much about it. Try not to think about anything, really.

"The punch is good," you say lamely.

"No it isn't."

"No, it isn't." you agree, then down the punch in one go. You slam the empty glass on the armrest and feel your face contort with so much adamant disgust that Jimin laughs fully, and the sound is beautiful and incredibly - Jimin, you not-think.

You're still Not Thinking. It's actually amazing how much you're Not Thinking, you not-think. It's amazing what the human brain can do once you set your mind to it. There's so many things you're not thinking about! You're not thinking about how Jimin shuffles the tiniest bit closer to you, or how he leans into you fully when he laughs, or how he lights up the room with his laugh alone.

It's kind of a blur what happened after that. Jimin started talking about how kiwi is the worst of all fruits, and the conversation somehow diverts into the plot holes and the fall of capitalism, and then somehow- somehow- into slang terms for penis. ("I'm just saying that if someone were to approach me and tell me their wang is hard again I can and will block them from my life," he says with so much open hate it has you choking on a laugh).

You learn he volunteers at a nearby shelter.

You learn he, for some reason, thinks the O blood type is an actual abomination and should be burned for its sins. ("Nothing against people with O blood types, though, I'm sure they're lovely!" he makes sure to add.)

You learn he's been convinced by outside sources that Tony Stark is a raging feminist.

You learn he's beautiful and lovely and sometimes, when the light hits him just right, you can see flecks of red in his eyes.

Talking with Jimin is easy, really easy. You love words, but sometimes they're easier to say than others. You're surprised how easy they were to come out, how easy they were to say. You thought you would whisper them or they would get stuck in your throat. You thought you would slur them together or fracture them into too many. But with Jimin it's just easy, always so easy, he's always so patient and willing to listen.

Jimin is so tender, so pretty, lighting up a room without even realizing it. He's so bright. Bright enough for you to think this, this. This is why Jungkook likes him so much, and it's then that you slump backwards and every previously undiscovered lump reintroduces themselves to your butt. You were wrong, you take it back - the couch fucking sucks.

At some point it becomes so bright you had to excuse yourself, had to hide and curl in the nearest bathroom.

You're curled up in yourself on the toilet seat when a voice in your head tells you that you can't stay here forever. You have an assignment due monday. Jungkook will probably give out all the shop's products for free and adopt three more goldfish and a hamster and a golden retriever completely on impulse. Kimbap will probably miss you. Or not. Many times you don't know if he likes you or if he uses you for food and pats.

After a moment or two you stand up, fake a flush. Wash your hands, dry them. Dab some cold water on your neck. Wash your hands again. Dab some more water on the back of your neck, your forehead, your chest - anything to cool down. Wrists? Knees? Jungkook always puts some cologne there because of heat glands or something, but you're not sure if that has anything to do with him being a werewolf.

When you walk out it's with a confidence that you most certainly don't have, and you pretend you didn't just almost have a mental breakdown in the bathroom of your friend's almost-anniversary party as you walk back to the lumpy couch. Only this time it's not just Jimin.

This time it's Jimin talking so so tenderly to the boy next to him, little giggles spilling from his lips as he whispers into his ear, throwing himself onto the boy's shoulder and smiles at him with so much open adoration that your chest kinda ached a bit.

And it's not Jungkook like you expected - no. It's a boy. The boy. Honey boy. The boy that takes trains early in the morning and loves the ocean and loves his family before anything else. A split second and the boy smiles and then you know, you know it's the boy and not some sort of fever dream, some sort of hunger confusing your eyes and your brain and your heart. A smile all mirth and joy, one you think can't quite get captured right in a photograph. Boxy and bold and wild.

You turn back the way you came from and you think you hear someone calling after you but your brain is too hazy to make out what was said at all. You look around frantically for Jungkook, find him still hanging by the kitchen, drunk off the punch gummy worms and trying to pour some more into his cup but spilling half of it onto the kitchen counter.

"I'm leaving." You say to him, just to let him know, not because you expect him to follow you but because you expect him to worry when he searches and can't find you. You turn with the intention of leaving and he gently grabs your wrist, and you see something in his eyes - hazy and dreamy with alcohol and confusion and something else.

"Why? What's wrong? Did something happen?" He asks, tugs you forward gently to bring you closer, voice not reaching beyond a whisper, soft all around the edges.

"No no, nothing happened, please don't worry." You say, try to pry him off you just as gently, but he remains firm as he looks around for the potential threat that doesn't exist - doesn't exist, because you're making a big deal out of nothing, you know you are.

Because the boy you're already in love with is off limits and the two boys you just might have been almost in love with are together and you're a fool. The biggest fool. The biggest fool because you've almost just fallen for not one, not two, but three people, three people that are not at all interested, and you think there's something wrong with you that you're not quite ready to deal with just yet.

You look up and you see his jaw tighten, something akin to anger flicker in his eyes and no- no no no, you didn't mean for this to happen, didn't mean to ruin his night. "I'm going home, please don't worry about me and have fun. Please?"

He releases a breath and looks back down at you, expression softening so much it melts you down to your bones. "I won't let you go home like this. Let me walk you?"

You want to say no, want to let him have his fun, but he's looking at you with such quiet determination and you're just so, so tired. "okay," you say breathlessly.

You make sure to say goodbye to everyone before you leave, patting Namjoon extra hard on the back so that he stumbles forward with an oof. Jungkook's hand is on your back the whole time, a quiet reassurance.

You think you've done a pretty good job at avoiding them. It's kinda hard with Jungkook, since you live with him and all, but you try to eat your meals at separate times and avoid looking him in the eye when he gets too close. You take train rides at night now, just in case, try not to look at the ocean when you pass it by. Flinch so hard when you passed by an animal shelter that a kind old lady actually stopped to ask if you were okay.

There's kind of a box in your chest. It stores all the unwanted feelings, keeps them all at bay. But sometimes the box breaks. Breaks when you need it intact the most. Your box is crumpled, old, tearing at the seams, little bits and pieces spilling bit by bit until the day comes when they break out all at once, and you think the day gets closer the more you deal with things alone.

You think the day is today as a boy comes flying through the door, clothes and hair disheveled, and you think you look more than a bit petrified as the vampire you'd been avoiding for a few weeks launches towards you, smacks a few crumpled bills onto the counter.

"How do I say fuck you in flower?" He says, something wild threatening to tumble out of his chest as he inhales a shaky breath, and you scramble to gather the flowers for the bouquet, despite the oddity of the request.

Carnation, foxglove, meadowsweet; disdain, insincerity, uselessness. You add a daffodil in there just for the heck of it - new beginnings. Which is ironic, coming from you.

He watches as you tie the bouquet together, and there's something gentle about his gaze despite the fact your heart is threatening to tumble out of your chest and he looked seriously intimidating, like, two seconds ago.

You hand the bouquet over after tying a bow around its end and he takes it with a smile, walking out the door without even bothering to wait for his change. There's silence for a moment. Nothing. Then he walks right back in, bouquet still in hand, places it back on the counter and pushes it closer to you. You stare, stunned.

You make a weird noise and you think you've just keyboard smashed in real life because that's when Jimin loses all composure, laughing joyfully and clutching at his stomach.

"It's- for you," he says after a moment, gaze flickering from you to the bouquet then back to you then back to the bouquet.

"What did I do?" You ask but you know what you did. You straight up ran away from him. Straight up told him you were coming back and then you just didn't. Kinda ditched him there on the lumpiness of the couch, but you didn't think he would notice, didn't think he would remember anything that isn't related to honey boy - not that you'd blame him.

Jimin looks at you knowingly. You manage to hold his gaze for less than a second before looking down at your shoes.

"Do you wanna have dinner with us?" He's drawling. You think it's a nervous tic. "Me. Taehyung. Jungkook, too, if he wants." He says and looks at the door behind you, as if waiting for Jungkook to walk through it.

Ah, you think, mustering up a smile, so his name is Taehyung. "Taehyung," you say, testing how it sounds on your tongue.

"Yeah," he smiles something a little too fond, a little too endeared. "Taehyung."

"But- Me?" You fold your arms, shift on your feet, uncertainty lacing your every word, "You want me to go, too?"

Jimin looks a little too confused, a crease between his brows. The crease goes soft when he smiles or feigns surprise, but it never quite mushes away. You kinda wanna kiss him there one day.

"Of course I do. Why would I not?" A sludge that had been spreading through your insides seems to evaporate the tiniest bit at that, and you can almost feel your heart melting out of your chest, dripping over your ribs like cheese fondue.

"Oh," you mutter, and that's that.

Jimin smiles again and you wonder how he does it, how he manages to smile so much, if he ever gets tired of it. He fishes through his pocket for a moment, pulls out his phone. "Let's exchange numbers, yeah?"

And so you do. In complete silence. Please tell me what to say, you beg your shit brain, but it just continues the mantra of curse words on repeat. It's sunny and he's close to the window where the roses are giggling under their breaths, where the light is hitting him in all the right ways.

"What, no tips?" You ask the boy's back as he leaves, bouquet in hand and carrying it all too delicately, like someone who has a lot of love in his heart, and he's laughing over his shoulder as he opens the door.

"I gave you one last time!"

"That's not how it works!" You yell but he's already gone, leaving a trail of giggles in his wake.

"Are you serious? They invited us over for dinner?"

"Yeah," you say as you pick up a box with a huff, softening as Jungkook runs over to grab it from you. You mutter a thank you before continuing, "Is it that hard to believe?"

"Kinda!" He huffs but you're almost sure it's from mock anger than it is from carrying heavy boxes around, "We're going, right?"

"I don't know.." Your familiar gasps a bit too dramatically as he sets the box down on the counter.

"Noona, I'm pretty sure there's a law that states that you have to go to dinner when two attractive men ask you to."

"Source."

"Namjoon is the smartest person in the world and he confirms this."

"I confirm this." You jump as the man in question pops up behind you, and you have no idea how and when he got here.

You groan. "Fine."

Jungkook whoops loudly and Namjoon, despite not really knowing what's going on, joins in with the same amount of enthusiasm. It's incredibly endearing and you hate both of them.

[j-crawley]

1OO IMPORTANT CHARACTER QUESTIONS

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name? James Crawley

Where and when were you born? London, England in 1875

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.) James’ sire’s name is Isabelle. He also recognises her as his mother because his birth parents were killed before he could remember. Isabelle is an ancient vampire who is over four thousand years old and is one of the few who kept herself out of the supernatural wars when they were waged across the earth. 

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like? The only ‘siblings’ he has are the other vampires Isabelle has sired throughout her life, of which there are four others. He has only met two of this four. 

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people. Krovs Town and with his cats. 

What is your occupation? Police officer

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks. Blonde hair, blue eyes. 6″1, 165lbs, Caucasian. Dresses smart most of the time. He enjoys fashion and being stylish and tends to keep it tasteful and less over-the-top. No tattoos or scars.

To which social class do you belong? James was born to a family in the middle class and Isabelle brought him up to the age of thirteen accordingly. Isabelle herself is amongst the upper class and she introduced him to that life after he was turned. 

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? Being a dhampir (half-vampire, half-human), James is the weakest of the vampire hybrids and is susceptible to the weakness of his species. Other than that, he has no allergies or diseases.

Are you right- or left-handed? Left handed.

What does your voice sound like? (link)

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? “Oh dear.”

What do you have in your pockets? Notebook, pen, vials of feline blood.

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics? James is a clean freak and is very particular about the cleanliness of his own space.

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general? James had a pleasant childhood with Isabelle until she disappeared when he was about thirteen years old. The trauma of losing his parental figure had him becoming obsessed with finding her ‘killer’.

What is your earliest memory? Reading a children’s book with Isabelle.

How much schooling have you had? He studied hard enough and went through the proper education system to become a constable in Scotland Yarad and eventually a detective.

Did you enjoy school? Of course. James enjoys learning and he considers his university days some of the best of his life, even if it happened quite a long time ago for him.

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? He leaned a lot about life from John, his mentor who took him in after Isabelle’s disappearance. His deductive skills were picked up through a mix of John’s training, school and his various stints as a police officer/detective in various towns. His skills as a vampire were mostly learned from Isabelle.

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them. Isabelle and John.

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family? James gets along very well with those he considers his family.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? James wanted to become a police officer since the age of thirteen.

As a child, what were your favorite activities? Reading, collecting insects. The latter of which is something he grew out of.

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display? Curiosity, dutiful, cheerful, generous, polite, extraversion.

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? James was quite focused on his studies when he was a child and his only friend was John until he went to university. He started making more friends at university where he found himself amongst those who were in the high society and made a lot of connections that way. 

When and with whom was your first kiss? He got drunk with his university friends on a night out at a men’s social club and kissed a man named Thomas in secret. They started an affair before he met his eventual wife, Elizabeth, and he decided that he needed to settle down with her as society deemed a man should.

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? No. He lost it to the same man in the previous answer.

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities.  Read all about it here.

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? Being turned into a dhampir.

Who has had the most influence on you? Isabelle.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Finding Isabelle again.

What is your greatest regret? He sometimes wonders what his human life would’ve been like had he not been turned. 

What is the most evil thing you have ever done? After becoming a dhampir, James has taken the law into his own hands and killed a number of times when the authorities would not do what he believed they needed to. As a law-abiding person, these actions went against his moral code and he considers them ‘evil’ in a way.

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? No. He lived in a time when being gay was illegal, but he was never caught for having an affair with a man.

When was the time you were the most frightened? When he almost killed his wife and son when he lost control. It was what spurred him to leave them.

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? Elizabeth catching him with Thomas about a year into their marriage. James was still in love with Thomas but had to ultimately end things with him for his family. It was both embarrassing and heartbreaking.

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? He wishes that he had gone to visit his wife before she died, but he had been too afraid of how she would react and so he stayed away. He considers himself a coward because of this.

What is your best memory? The birth of his son - Johnathan.

What is your worst memory? Visiting his elderly son on his deathbed and having Johnathan recognise him and hate him for leaving. This was James’ first experience of losing someone mortal and it served as a harsh reminder of his very immortal life.

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic? Mostly an optimist.

What is your greatest fear? Losing control and killing an innocent.

What are your religious views? James would consider himself spiritualist and his faith is very personal to him.

What are your political views? James is heavily influenced by Isabelle’s stance on not siding with the current ruling power - the Vampires - even if he is one himself. 

What are your views on sex? Over the years, he has learned to loosen up when it comes to sex. Having grown up in a time that was more puritanical, it took a long while, despite Isabelle’s more liberal views on sex and sexuality, before James was able to view the act as something fun to engage in -- especially gay sex.

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable? Yes. Being half-vampire, the desire to kill is always there but James keeps that urge on a tight leash. He has killed in the past (see answer in P3) when he felt that he had no choice.

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do? Harming children in any way.

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? Leaning undecided to no.

What do you believe makes a successful life? Happiness and sense of purpose.

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? This actually depends on who James is speaking to. He’s usually more guarded and would put on a mask when he is with other vampires, but who’s to know if that mask is actually a part of him too?

Do you have any biases or prejudices? He would like to think not.

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? James refuses to drink the blood of humans and other supernatural creatures because it turns him into something he does not like. It is why he only drinks animal blood.

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? He hasn’t thought about this...

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how? In general, James is very polite and friendly to everyone he meets.

Who is the most important person in your life, and why? At the moment, it’s his cats.

Who is the person you respect the most, and why? Isabelle. She taught him a lot about the world and he is forever grateful for that.

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people. James has many friends in all the places he has lived in, but due to having to move around often, there are not many that he would consider best friends.

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person. His wife passed away in the early-1900s and he has not married again ever since. While James has had a few lovers after that, there are not many that he could consider particularly significant.

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened. Yes. James met and fell in love with his university friend, Thomas, and started an affair with him. This was highly illegal at the time, but they continued the affair until after James got married. It ended when James’ wife found out about them. James was more in love with Thomas than he was with Elizabeth and she knew this.

What do you look for in a potential lover? Someone he can be at ease and be himself with.

How close are you to your family? He is still very close to Isabelle, the only family he has left.

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not? James had a wife and son, both of whom have passed on in present day. He has not settled down again since.

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help? Isabelle.

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why? Isabelle. While he lives his life separate from her, she still keeps tabs on him and James trusts her to look out for him if it ever came down to it.

If you died or went missing, who would miss you? Isabelle.

Who is the person you despise the most, and why? The closest is probably Izaak because the man killed his birth parents. But James rationalises that he never knew his birth parents and Izaak is like a brother to Isabelle, and so he has somewhat forgiven him.

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict? James tends to avoid conflict and will only argue if absolutely necessary.

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations? Only if there is no one else to do so. James prefers to follow.

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not? James enjoys socialising because people intrigue him, even if he keeps them at arms length. 

Do you care what others think of you? Yes, he actually does because of the time period he grew up in. He has loosened up a lot more over the last few decades but it’s not something he can easily put out of his mind.

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes? Reading. Cleaning. Spending time with his cats.

What is your most treasured possession? His first edition copy of A Study in Scarlet that Isabelle gifted to him when he was a child. Crime novels were all the rage during the Victorian Era and these books were also what spurred him to become a police officer.

What is your favorite color? Light green.

What is your favorite food? Before becoming a dhampir, one of James’ favourite bakes was the Spotted Dick.

What, if anything, do you like to read? Crime fiction.

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)? A good book. (Are you sensing a pattern here yet?) He enjoys films from time to time but strongly prefers the written word.

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? He smokes occasionally because he finds the act of it enjoyable. As an immortal there is little point in quitting.

How do you spend a typical Saturday night? He alternates between going to a bar to meet new people and staying at home on Saturday nights. This is something that he has yet to do in Krovs Town.

What makes you laugh? His cats.

What, if anything, shocks or offends you? Rude and disrespectful people.

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? James is usually very good at finding something to occupy his mind with. If he were burdened with insomnia, he would use the time to 

How do you deal with stress? James stress cleans.

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? He can be spontaneous on occasion but takes comfort in knowing that he usually has a plan.

What are your pet peeves? Being micromanaged.

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted? Wakes up, feeds his cats, showers, gets dressed while having his breakfast, heading to work. Comes home, feeds his cats, eats, extracts blood from one of his cats, showers again, gets ready for bed. He does not like his morning routine being messed with but he will roll with the punches anyway.

What is your greatest strength as a person? Being able to anticipate another’s needs.

What is your greatest weakness? His fear of not being able to be in control of his vampiric half.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? To be less conflict-averse. He feels like he could achieve a lot more but he really does not like being pushed into conflict.

Are you generally introverted or extroverted? He can swing between both, whereby he is generally extroverted but still values his alone time.

Are you generally organized or messy? Organized.

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. Good: Small talk, powers of deduction, reading people. Bad: Cooking, singing, dancing. ((ooc: LOL what even!))

Do you like yourself? Most of the time.

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…) James takes his role as a police officer and servant to the people very seriously. He is someone who tends to wear his heart on his sleeve when it comes to this subject as well, so what he usually says what he means when asked about his profession.

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime? James does not have a far-reaching goal. He is mostly focused on his job and doing it well for whatever community he is serving.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Hopefully still living in Krovs Town.

If you could choose, how would you want to die? Peacefully.

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. Make sure his cats are taken care of. Other than that, James is actually happy to spend his last moments with himself.

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? James wants to be remembered by how he made others feel.

What three words best describe your personality? Kind, generous, helpful.

What three words would others probably use to describe you? Nice, pushover, slow-on-the-uptake.

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…) He needs to be a bit selfish and figure out what he wants in life for himself. James is mostly living his life in servitude of others at the moment.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Witch Way to Revenge || Morgan & Miriam

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @meflemming & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Miriam have a girl’s night. At least no one was physically injured? 

CONTAINS: emo times

Girl’s night in with Miriam looked a lot like Morgan expected: animal hides dangling from their racks, wine-blood cocktails and brain smoothies in rose gold tinted glassware, and moody music from Miriam’s Spotify playlist underscored by the percussion of leatherworking and bone carving as fresh white shavings spread over the work table like confetti. The antler Morgan was working was just for practice, but maybe if the piece didn’t come out too wonky she would stash it for herself, a hope towards another etsy store, or at least a contribution to the universe that wasn’t so frustratingly fraught. Everywhere Morgan looked was a mess waiting to happen or already in progress, even within. She mistrusted her quiet, fearing another breakdown, she mistrusted her fire, hating the thought of adding to the list of sacrifices and blood Constance had already accumulated. And the people she trusted, who she wanted to cling to—

Morgan’s burr scraped too roughly into the bone, digging an impossibly crooked hole into its side. She set down her burr before she made another mess and chugged her smoothie. “Is it breaking the vibe too much if I ask a serious question?” The look of apology on her face said that she was going to do it whether Miriam thought so or not. “I was wondering if...you ever feel kind of sick about your uh...side hustle. And then do it anyway?  I feel like if nothing else, being able to see Constance come apart with my own two zombie eyes is going to be satisfying in ways I don��t have words for, but right now I’m...not there. I’m just curious, I guess.”

Humming along to the music Elle had put on her phone, Miriam was busy removing hair from a skin, not truly thinking, just enjoying the process. She’d found the deer the other evening after she’d gone to the cemeteries. Miriam hadn’t truly been hunting for witches. Not hard, at least. But the frustration of the itch not being scratched caused her to lash out. She’d dropped it off on the way back to Evelyn’s, and she’d been staying the night there ever since, though frustration kept building and building. This was nice, though. No murder, no ghostly research, no threatening or dead witch bodies (except for Morgan’s, but she didn’t count).The flavor of bloodied wine eased some of her darker thoughts. Morgan seemed a bit stressed, of course, but Miriam didn’t pry. They both had their secrets.

Miriam’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of scraping bone, and she glanced up at Morgan. Raising an eyebrow, she took a sip from her glass. “I don’t mind, Morgan.” She paused, thinking it over. The look on Morgan’s face was enough for her to know that the question wasn’t meant cruelly, though. “Side hustle makes it sound like I’m a gangster of some sort. It’s simply my nature.” She wrinkled up her nose a bit before she sighed and put down the fleshing knife she’d been using. Miriam faced Morgan fully, leaning back against the counter. “The very first time was hard, but I couldn’t stop.” She would not tell Morgan how she cried for Theo. She would not. “And then it was all too easy. It was retribution, for all the lies and the hurt that magic causes. Eventually, I thought I was done, for the most part, and I went to ground. When I woke up, it was the same, that righteous anger that I had to do what needed to be done.” Murder, Mim. Just say murder. “I’m certainly glad I didn’t kill you, though. And now… Now it’s just a necessity, not a desire. I have other things to do with my time, but…” She let the sentence trail off into nothing and cleared her throat. “What brings up the curiosity, darling?”

“On the one hand, gangster, on the other: intrepid and self-motivated,” Morgan explained, sniggering. “It doesn’t pay as well as your day job, it’s more of a passion project. Which, you know, you could probably benefit from having a real one of those.” She was trying to keep her tone light, gentle in her teasing to show how desperate she was to get Miriam to do something, anything else with her existence besides her indiscriminate murder vendetta against witches. But Miriam’s response to her question was...surprisingly earnest. Even as Morgan sensed that she was keeping something back, she knew she was telling as much of the truth as she could manage.

“Couldn’t stop?” She asked in a whisper. For the first time she considered if Miriam’s claims about not being in control of herself were true. She could think of nothing more terrifying than losing her will, her self to something that lacked even a face or a name. It seemed a worse fate than what Constance had given her. It couldn’t be true. “You know it wasn’t...he wasn’t his magic, Miriam,” she said softly. “He deserved everything he got from you. But he’s not actually everywhere, even if it feels that way. He wasn’t hiding in me somewhere.” She looked back to her bone carving before setting everything down. “Why does it feel necessary? Sorry, that sounds-- I’m curious about you, because of course I am, but I’m asking for...me. I struggle so hard to explain to people why I need this, and I don’t know if the words exist. I was set up to suffer before I was even born, punished for something I didn’t do as early as three, broken, slowly in cycles, over some girl’s hissy fit of bad turns. And at the bottom of it all, I know that I need to do something different, to be different than the person she ground up to death. And I need to call the shots. I need to know down in my soul I’m free of her, forever. And, yeah, sometimes I get a kick out of imagining what it will be like to give her back as much pain as I can. I had to kill a fucking hunter to get the carding comb to hurt her with, I’m going to make sure it’s worth it. But does any of this make sense to you at all? You’re not even going after the person who hurt you anymore and is it...just this ache? Or this pull that you can’t have peace or quiet or anything fully until this is done?

The sound Miriam made wasn’t particularly ladylike; nor was the eyeroll she gave Morgan. Honestly, she wouldn’t be surprised if her mother walked out of the family mausoleum just to scold her for her lack of manners. “Aren’t we all self-motivated, sweetness?” she asked, reaching to take a sip of her wine only to find that the glass was empty. She frowned before going to the small fridge she kept in her work area to make another glass. “I mean, that’s quintessential human nature, though human is a bit narrowly focused. We both know that. Anything with conscious thought is self-motivated, I think one could argue.” One part blood bag, two parts cabernet sauvignon. She took a sip, satisfied with the flavor, and looked back at Morgan.

“Despite, well, everything that you know about me, murder wasn’t always my go to method of dealing with marital issues, Morgan. Then again, we weren’t prone to marital problems before my passing,” Miriam said with a wry smile. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “I know that. I know what he was. Being a spellcaster wasn’t the worst part of him.” Admitting it felt like sin, like a betrayal of the woman who had died wrapped around a tree with the knowledge that the only reason her husband had married her was because he needed to fund his coven. “I know that. But the mere thought of people practicing magic, the fact that they could still do it after everything that he did to me,” she felt fangs lengthen in her mouth, “it is impossible to stop myself.” She looked at Morgan, who she considered a friend, who she would have killed in their first meeting had she not enjoyed the game of cat and mouse, who she would probably kill know if her heart decided to reawaken in her chest and magic once more flow through her veins. “I came back improperly, a vampire who needs more suffering than she needs blood. I live with it, have lived with it for some time. It’s necessary because I could be starved for blood for decades, and I have been!” She did not remember her time in the mausoleum fondly, though she’d put herself there quite willingly. “The thirst for blood would be nothing compared to my need to cause suffering and pain to those that-- those that wronged me.” Magic wasn’t met for humans. It simply wasn’t. There had to be an understanding there, that they were only hurting themselves and others. She couldn’t be the only person scorned out there, desperately hunting for an atonement that didn’t seem to come. “I keep thinking that one day I’ll reach the peak, right? That I will have killed one, and it’ll be over. I thought I’d find that when I kill the last of Theo’s family.” She still sees Gilly’s aged but familiar face when she closes her eyes. Miriam downed the wine. “Didn’t fucking happen. Obviously.”

Morgan replied with an eye roll and a grimace. “Not all of us. Some of us have ‘sacred duties’ and shiny new enlightened principles that mean moving out and running away to live in an abandoned mansion where nothing bad can get us.” She recounted the thought with a mocking baby voice, bristling with bitter hurt. Maybe if more people were allowed to worry just about their local friends and communities, there would be a lot less strife. No duties, no higher bullshit. “But, you know, at least you are. I appreciate that about you, Mim.”

She watched Miriam’s posture, the shifts and guilt in her face as she admitted what Theo’s crimes weren’t. “You aren’t made wrong, Miriam. You deserve to be here as much as anyone else just the way you are. You’re just...a little stuck, I think. I mean, witches everywhere don’t know what he did to you. And I bet no small amount of them would support your leather jacket poetic justice. You know, if you left out the part where you think they shouldn’t exist because of him. We’re big on balance and using the will and agency the universe gave you. Making your way happen when circumstances say no.” She looked at Miriam sympathetically, hoping she registered how much her drive fell into that very witchy category. “Some people need to be dealt their suffering, for things they’ve actually done, Mim. And you haven’t been dead so long that there can’t be someone who did actually do something to you or someone you care about to take a hit or two.” She inched closer to the vampire, reaching out for her hand. “Hey--” her fingers brushed over Miriam’s. “It doesn’t have to be like this. You deserve more and better than tasting something hollow. Did you ever think that maybe it doesn’t feel good like the first one for a reason. And not because you’re cursed or anything awful like that. Because you’re not. Maybe you just need something different. Because it can’t stay like that, right? We can’t just be stuck starving for something that never comes. There’s gotta be something better.”

Blinking, Miriam said, “I won’t lie, you had me in the first half, but I don’t think that’s directed at me, is it?” Clearly, whatever was weighing on Morgan was truly getting to her, turning a woman that Miriam had only seen angry at Miriam or a ghost into someone that was actually quite bitter about things, life, unlife. It rubbed Miriam the wrong way, to see someone so blatantly optimistic using that tone, that nastiness. “Yes, well, that’s me, darling. Self-serving and comfortable enough with myself to admit it. It feels lovely to be appreciated for that.”

Ah, but there was the Morgan that Miriam knew, the optimistic one. And Miriam handled it the only way she knew how. Poorly. “Yes, yes, all things, creatures, and people are made with goodness and kindness, even if it is deep, deep down I’m not a broken monster, just a sad one that needs to get her head out of her ass and stop feeling sorry for herself.” She sighed. “If I’m stuck, then there’s really no way to not be, at this point. It’s what’s natural, now, being like this, doing these things. I don’t care that they aren’t him or that they might understand. They’ll all hurt someone, in the end, if they haven’t already. Can you, in complete and total honestly, tell me that your magic never harmed someone? Your family’s magic? The magic of any little spellcaster that you know?” She just wanted Morgan to see what she was saying, if only for a moment. “Can you? I don’t think you can.” She was careful not to pull away, though she went impossibly still at Morgan’s touch. “Maybe if I pretend that everyone I’m slaughtering is a spellcaster, then it’ll get better, right? Play pretend with my own head. Just drinking blood doesn’t help. That’s where the hollow feeling comes from, darling. It’s the other makes me feel sated, at least for a time.” Didn’t last, though, but surely that was to be expected. Hunger always came back. She just hated that this was the hunger she felt. Miriam pulled away, smiling tightly. “I need another drink. I don’t suppose you want another brain smoothie?”

Morgan’s face wrinkled with embarrassment. “Sorry. I’ve been...having a time with a friend. A no-longer-friend. I don’t know. But I didn’t mean to drag that in here like it was…” She sighed. “I don’t want to be a person who puts her shit on other people and hurts them for it. I’m sorry. I...still don’t know how to process everything. I don’t know how two people can be so similar and yet so painfully different.” Hearing herself, she smirked. “Well, maybe I do but at least you and I don’t actually think we’re on the same page when we’re not. But you’re welcome, for appreciating you for who you are.”

She should have expected Miriam to go stiff at her touch. Morgan didn’t know if it was because she was afraid of being treated tenderly by someone who actually believed in her, of the softness it might bring out in her, or if in the middle of dying and coming back, touch had become something to fear, but whatever the cause, of course Miriam would run from Morgan trying to reach her long enough to try and stop her. She let go of Miriam’s hand, but came around to her side of the table, sitting close. “I never said everyone was inherently anything. I don’t believe everyone is inherently anything. I think we all have potential for a lot of things. Even you. And given how much has happened to me in the last—almost a year, now? Even just the last six months since I died—I don’t recognize myself sometimes. Of course we can change.”

Morgan deflated at the insistence that she consider Miriam’s point. And went silent, trying to figure out if there was a way not to screw this up. “I have hurt people before. Me, Morgan. Because I’m almost forty and a person, Miriam. But it wasn’t my alchemy or any other magic. I said and did normal, awful things because I was angry or scared or stupid or all of the above. Sometimes, I gave someone what I thought they deserved, as payback. I melted the tires off the SUV of this rude, cruel customer at the store I worked at. I gaslit a mail thief in my apartment building. But magic is just energy, Mim. It just is. And I also saved my own life and made something to help protect my girlfriend and spare cash so I didn’t fall behind in my bills. I made jewelry and charms for my friends so they would know I cared. Magic is everything and nothing. It’s too complicated to be bad. People just...do bad things with it. Sometimes. Because they’re people.”  She reached for Miriam’s hand as she seemed ready to flee, take a breather. “Mim! We might not be on the same page, but you can’t honestly say that you’re so different than anyone else held together by magic. We never were that different, even when I was alive, even if we weren’t on the same page.” She let go, slowly, already wondering if she’d overstepped. “I’m sorry, if I’m— I just feel like you don’t want to be this way as much as you say you do. If there’s something someone can do to help you try something else, maybe I’d like to.”

“I really don’t mind, if you want to talk about it.” Truthfully, if it would get Morgan off her ass, Miriam would talk about trivial friendship dramas. “People are kind of the worst, Morgan. They really are. But I can imagine how disheartening that could be. I think that you and I can see each other’s differences and similarities, now. And, hey,” she smirked, “I haven’t outright lied to you about anything since that night in the bar.” She should return the sentiment. That’s what people did. They appreciated each other, were sincere with each other. Miriam was not taught sincerity. Charms and good looks rarely needed that. “I appreciate you as well, I hope you know. I wasn’t expecting a friend in you. I wasn’t expecting friends, in general.”

Miriam sighed as Morgan got closer, but it wasn’t awful. She wouldn’t push away, wouldn’t tense up again. She waved Morgan off, though. “I know. I know. But that always seems to be implied. To be good. To be kind. I’m more than aware of the belief in balance. I married into a prominent coven that believed in potential and the ever changing path of time. Nothing is wholly good. Nothing is wholly evil. Until, of course, one starts murdering said prominent coven.” Theo’s mother had threatened her with fire before Miriam had finally killed her. “Then they are wholly evil.” She shook the images away, the thoughts, the rush of the kill. A part of her had enjoyed it. Miriam was by far the bitch’s least favorite in-law. She adopted a lighter tone. “Dead things don’t change. Not truly, not where it counts. I really don’t know how many times I have to tell you, darling.”

Clearly, Morgan wasn’t understanding what Miriam had to say. “Yes, you, Morgan, have hurt people. Did you just use your words, your fist, or can you say, without a shadow of doubt, that you’ve never used magic to harm another person?”  Miriam raised an eyebrow. “I agree, wholeheartedly. Magic is just energy. It has no morality. It’s the people that are the problem. Humans. We, they, weren’t meant to have that sort of power because it ends up hurting someone eventually. It ends up being used poorly, as you’ve just pointed out. It can certainly be used for good things. I can’t tell you how many of Theo’s family gifts were helpful and beautiful. In the end, though, they still harmed people. They misused what they were given. Magic’s a weapon. One would never give a knife to a toddler, would they? It’s irresponsible. People are what makes magic bad, not magic itself.” The muscles in her wrists twitched under Morgan’s hand, but she didn’t move it. “I cannot control the magic within me, and neither can you, Morgan. It’s not the same. We cannot harness that power for good or bad things.” Miriam stretched out her fingers. “Don’t apologize. It’s useless. I understand what you’re saying, and I wish you could do the same.” She looked away. “I’ve tried other options, you know. I’ve tried to be a regular vampire. It simply doesn’t seem possible.”

“I’m not asking you to be a regular vampire,” Morgan replied. “I would never do that, it’s not like that, Mim. But I don’t believe that you were made, down to your core, to torment witches just for being here. I think that’s your hurt and your fear talking. And I’m not even fully convinced that you’ve tried feeding on kinds of pain and suffering besides the physical, or suffering that you didn’t cause. I mean, unless there’s something you’re not telling me. I don’t know what you mean by options. And even so, I think you don’t really want to be this way. I think you’ve just told yourself it’s hopeless so many times, you don’t know how to believe anything else. I think you wouldn’t sound so sad if this was what you really wanted.”

Morgan moved closer to Miriam, straining upwards to stare her in the eyes, searching for a sign of hesitation, of longing, of something that made her more than what she pretended to be. “Tell me the truth,” she said quietly. “Do you want there to be something more to living like this? Do you want things to be different? Because it doesn’t have to be hopeless, and you don’t have to resign yourself to being owned by the way you’ve lived your life for so long.” She reached up and grazed Miriam’s cheek with her fingertips, cupping her face gently enough that she barely felt it on her own skin at all. “We can change, Mim,” Morgan said softly. Sometimes it’s just a little harder for us, but we can make our lives different. And I could help you try, if you ever asked me to.”

“Well, I can’t seem to find sustenance out of torturing those that aren’t witches, so, really, Morgan, I don’t know what else to do.” Granted, Miriam rarely tried to torture others, was sickened at the mere thought of it, and other people didn’t feel her with the same sense of injustice and rage that spellcasters did. She gritted her teeth against Morgan’s monologuing, refusing to even admit that some of what the zombie was saying was true. But she had caused people emotional pain and suffering, and it had sustained her. Just tormenting with Morgan that first time had been a meal in and of itself, even without breaking the woman’s wrist. But it just wasn’t the same if it wasn’t spellcasters. It couldn’t be. A part of her didn’t want it to be. “I’ve tried not hurting people,” she said. “It didn’t work. And I tried to stop myself, the first time, and the second, and many times after that. It’s not possible. It’s just not possible.” It wasn’t. Miriam had a lot of willpower, but not when it came to that.

“What I want is to drop this line of conversation,” Miriam said, attempting to school her features into a smirk. She needed to distance herself from this, from these feelings. It was becoming blatantly obvious that arguing with Morgan was about the same with arguing with a wall, or a child. Neither of them would get anything out of it, in the end. Of course she wanted more than this, more than neverending hatred and anger. She was even finding ways around it, ways to enjoy herself with other people. But she did not have to worry about wanting to kill Evelyn or even Morgan anymore. She did not have to worry when she was working or when the sun was in the sky and she could not afford to worry. “I am not hopeless, and I cannot change, and I am in no mood to try, after all this time.” It would not do, to change now when there were still people alive that blamed her for all the death and destruction she caused. Miriam would do well to make sure she earned every ounce of blame thrown her way. She brushed Morgan’s fingers away, undesiring and more than a little afraid of the comfort, though she made sure to at least appear unaffected. “And I would not ask for your help, Morgan. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not see anymore of the judgement in your eyes than I already have to.”

“Miriam, please--” Morgan didn’t have it in her to cling to Miriam, but she rose up all the same. “It’s not like that. I’m trying to tell you I believe in you. I see you, the version of you that’s lost and doesn’t know what else there is besides what you’ve always done. And I’m trying to tell you that you don’t have to be. You can try again, with help and resources, and it’ll be better than it was before. Maybe I just think you deserve a better existence than reliving their pain over and over! I mean someone does, right? And after all these years--why the hell not!” Morgan panted for breath out of words. She didn’t understand what it would take to get Miriam out of her defeatist pit, and there must be something, but she didn’t know what the magic words were. Slowly, she gathered her things from the table. “I care about you, Miriam. You just have to let me. Let someone.”

It was all Miriam could do to not narrow her eyes. She got it. She did. It did not need to be drilled any further into her skull. “And I do thank you for believing in me. I do. However, I am not quite sure you’re truly seeing me. You’re seeing what you want, or something ‘that’s lost,’ and not what’s actually in front of you.” She smiled, but it wasn’t nearly as sharp as she intended it. She had no real drive to lose her temper in front of the zombie, as much as Morgan was testing it. “Your desire to help me is noble and good, but I’m not particularly interested in going any further in this conversation, so either we drop it and attempt to enjoy the evening, maybe shift subjects to something besides my dietary needs, or we call it a night, hm?” She was closed off, now, done with this line of topic. She wouldn’t be bringing it up to Morgan any longer, either. Not the topic of food, or her past, or that nagging little ache in the back of her head that always seemed to come up when they talked about this. She softened. “I care about you, too, Morgan. That’s why I think we should drop this.” Please.

“Don’t worry,” Morgan mumbled, shouldering her bag. “I’m already leaving.” She hurried toward the nearest door but stopped short of stepping outside. “And it’s not your needs, Mim. You don’t need-- It’s what you’re willing to try. You’re worth more than this and--” And if Miriam hadn’t understood her five minutes ago, she wasn’t going to now. And maybe Morgan could explain how it burned to hear reduce witches, herself, down to the word diet like they were just brands of protein powder. How much harder that was to stomach after seeing Chloe in Lydia’s basement. “Dropping. Because you’re too afraid to handle this.” She grimaced, hating the sharpness coming into her own voice. She and Miriam were barely friends, how could they be when she couldn’t breathe a word about the Vurals to her? But she lingered in the doorway, aching at what felt like another loss, all the same. “I’ll let you know when my witch bitch is dead for real, I guess.”

“Really?” Miriam didn’t quite understand why Morgan leaving so abruptly was such a shock, but it was. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Of course they couldn’t have a relatively normal evening. Of course that was too much for a zombie and a vampire to contribute to the world. “You’re just going to-- Fine.” She knew she sounded petulant, childlike. Miriam had never been taught to handle not getting her way, and it showed every time something went poorly for her. This was no different. She bit the inside of her cheek, not even aware of how sharp her teeth were until she tasted her own bitter blood in her mouth. Her eyes were stinging a bit. She didn’t know why. “I am not afraid. This has nothing to do with fear. This is about-- about-- This isn’t about fear, goddammit.” Perhaps it was good Morgan was leaving, if she was going to cause Miriam to lose control of her words in such a way. “No matter,” she said sharply. She counted to ten, took a breath. Human things. Grounding things. She let the air in her lungs out as a low sigh. “I’ll still help you with your ghost problem, Morgan, and not simply because she was a witch. You just-- You know you only have to ask.” Then, she looked away. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Morgan’s eyes spilled over as Miriam spoke. “Well, I don’t know what else to do. You are being very clear and after--” Morgan’s voice broke. After Jasmine, after Nell, after Lydia, after Remmy (and stars above she had never counted on losing Remmy), Morgan’s world felt like it was shrinking back down to its lonely, cursed sphere. “I’m so tired of losing people I care about. Of course I want to help you, make something different for you. And it is fear. I’ve been in self denial before and I know that sometimes the only thing worse than being right about how miserable you are is the possibility that you didn’t have to be this whole time.” She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened up. “If you ever decide taking on that fear is worth it, will you tell me? Ask me?”

“There is no fear,” Miriam said again, but she was far less certain this time around. Because she was afraid. Not of change. Change, probably, would be the easy part, if she really put effort into it, if she became hellbent on starving that darker part of herself. It would be the consequences that came with that change, the fact that she would have to apologize for everything she’d done, and that was…. Apologies for murder were not so readily accepted, and there were some consequences Miriam was not taught to deal with. That is to say that Miriam was not taught to deal with consequences of any sort. “I will reach out to you should I ever decide I want to change, but don’t waste your breath,” she muttered. “I’m comfortable not changing.” She turned away from the door and set about cleaning up her workspace instead. The prickling sensation behind her eyes wouldn’t go away. She didn’t know what to make of it because Miriam Flemming did not cry. Maybe she should just head back to Evelyn’s early; she obviously wasn’t going to get any work done.

“There’s always fear. And you can get comfortable with anything if it’s what you think you deserve, or all you think you’re allowed,” Morgan sniffled. “But it’s just not true. Whatever happens, you can have something more.” She lingered a moment longer, hoping that at any second Miriam might whirl around and say yes, I’ve changed my mind, help me stop, I don’t know how but I’ll try anything and stop. But for all her hope, that wasn’t something she’d be seeing tonight. She stepped outside and shut the door silently behind her.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

A Little Stevie Nicks

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(I didn’t really know what to call this one but it’s the request for Dwayne x a vampire girlfriend who is a lot like him and dresses sort of like Stevie Nicks.)(+Sorry for the long intro if you just wanted dating headcanons)

- Okay so I like the idea of the reader being older then Dwayne or rather was turned into a vampire before him. I’m not quite sure exactly when Dwayne was turned (it could have been in the 80s which would explain why they wear the things they do) but I do think that you’d most likely be turned in the 60s/70s explaining your fondness for the fashion.

- The first time he saw you he thought he died and went to heaven, with all the sheer fabric, the lace and the flowing dresses he thought you looked downright angelic. It took him a good few minutes to recover, you quite literally took his breath away.

- Paul had to snap him back into reality because he’d fully stopped in his tracks to watch you. All he could get out when the blonde clapped him on the shoulder was “her” as his eyes remained fixated on you.

- You were just wandering the boardwalk by yourself when you noticed two pairs of eyes on you, when you briefly turned to look you noticed Dwayne and Paul standing and watching you.

- Dwayne is handsome (which he’s aware of) and when you first saw him he reminded you of one of those “ideal men” who are painted on the front of a romance novel. Long haired, shirtless, and chiseled, it’s hard not to stare especially when you catch a guy like that watching you with the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen.

- You turn away and stalk off after you have your little staring contest, which immediately makes him follow after you even if he knows it’s a little odd himself. He doesn’t want to lose you in the crowd but you want to lose him, not wanting to get involved and inevitably fall for someone you can’t have (not knowing you could have him since he’s a vampire as well).

- You play a little game of cat and mouse with him while you walk along the boardwalk. You’re quite aware he’s following you even though he thinks you don’t know. Finally you decide to sit on the railing of the boardwalk, watching the ocean and the night sky while you waited.

“Your following me.” You said quietly once you heard him approach, lurking behind you.

“Maybe I am.” He replied softly.

“Why?”

“There’s something about you.” He seemed almost confused.

- Neither of you said anything else after that and it was then you realized you couldn’t hear his heartbeat. You were sure he realized the same when he came and sat beside you on the railing.

- Since that night you sort of just found each other everytime the both of you were out. Sometimes you’d talk, othertimes you wouldn’t but you always ended up spending some kind of time together. You started a sort of nighttime fling, nothing really romantic yet but sort of just affectionate. Like old friends navigating their way around each other again while they fall in love with the new version of their previous pal.

“Who are those boys you hang around?” You asked, braiding your hair as he laid between your legs on the sand of the beach.

“David, Paul and Marko, they’re like us.” He replied, toying your sleeve as it swayed above him.

“They seem fun.” You murmur.

“You want to meet them?”

- And you do. They immediately take a liking to you because you’re basically the female equivalent of Dwayne with a little more flowers and frills. You enjoy watching them mess around, it does help that they seem to be trying to flatter you and get you to stick around.

- After you meet the gang you and Dwayne have your first kiss and start your relationship. Soon enough you end up indoctrinated into the vampire crew and can consider yourself a part of the “family”.

- Whenever you’re on the boardwalk with him he always makes sure to have your hand in his.

- He used to think the frog brothers antics were sort of amusing but now that they’re a possible threat to you he’s much less keen on them lurking around.

- The both of you are well aware that it’s pretty difficult for someone or something to kill you but that doesn’t stop him from being very protective of you. He rarely lets you out of his sight and the both of you make sure to always have each other’s backs.

- Everytime the two of you kiss it feels like you’re floating on a cloud. He has this way of kissing you that’s so soft and dreamy that you grow weak in the knees and can hardly stop yourself from swooning.

- Even though the gang likes you and you like them he knows that he himself would sometimes just like to get away from them for a quiet night so he makes sure to bring you on dates at least every week.

- He likes watching you get ready because it’s such a different routine from everyone else in the cave. Like the boys go wild and put on whatever clothes they pick up but you actually coordinate your outfits and do your makeup really pretty.

- You and Laddie take turns riding with Dwayne on his bike. Although Laddie doesn’t mind riding with Paul so you don’t have to feel bad for taking his usual seat.

- He likes his style just fine but he wonders what he’d look like if he dressed “like you”. It’s definitely a much softer look than his and wouldn’t look nearly as threatening as his usual clothes.

- If you want to go with the idea that the reader is older than Dwayne then the boys would definitely tease Dwayne about having a thing for older women.

- He picks you little flowers to put in your hair or wear in your pockets. Your room probably always has at least one vase full of them even though they wilt pretty quickly in the darkness.

- I feel like you would really get along with Star and hang out with her while the boys mess around on the boardwalk. I also feel like Dwayne probably wasn’t really that fond of Star before he met you and saw her treat you with so much kindness.

- Even though he likes you haveing a friend in the gang he does get jealous when you “blow him off” for girls night (although he’ll never say anything to you). When you’re not around he gets into little tiffs with Star for “hogging his girlfriend”.

- He likes that you’re quiet, the two of you get along well because of it. The both of you agree that there’s no need to fill all your time together with useless conversation. But because you rarely talk or at least rarely talk around others many people don’t realize your a couple at first or don’t think your a good one when they find out.

- The more ballsier of guys have tried to flirt with you right in front of him thinking he’s just your friend and have almost gotten their faces on a missing poster because of it. It takes a while but after some time pretty much all of the boardwalk knows you’re off limits and it’s an unspoken rule of the town not to try anything with you.

- Of course Laddie has Star as a mother figure but you are definitely his back up mom. Dwayne thinks it’s adorable to watch you hang out with the little boy and loves when you help him take care of him.

- You definitely have a bright and long future ahead of you two.

[nad-zeta]

Match up! (~˘▾˘)~

 Hi again…can I get an Ikevamp match-up? I got curious on who I would end up with tbh😅😅😅

About myself…I never lose a temper, I am extremely shy and quiet, it’s extremely difficult for me to trust new people. I am around 5'9 feet tall, above shoulder length messy brown hair tied into a ponytail; I would be mistaken for a boy if I let my hair down. I wouldn’t even notice if they mistook me for a boy until someone addresses me as one😅😅😅. I look intimidating at first sight because 1.)I am silent most of the time, I look cold and aloof, I never smile, and 2.) I can be blunt without noticing + my difficulty of showing emotions would make them think I’m judging their soul *yikes…whoops?😅😅😅*. That intimidates most people and when in reality when I am the one who feels more intimidated by them. 😅😅

Once I warm up, I have this side that only my family and close friends know. I get along well with anybody; I won’t judge people for their race, beliefs, personality, religion, and all. It doesn’t exist here when I befriend them 😊. I have this weird sense of humor that can turn dark and morbid without noticing… 😅😅 I am like a child at Christmas when it comes to new art supplies, baking, and cooking new recipes; I love sharing it with my family and friends. I can compare my strength to a guy and I can carry heavy things without a problem😅… I love to play the guitar and I used to play the piano when I was younger and I missed playing it. I’m extremely rusty after not practicing for 7 years now😥. I can still read music notes, and it will take longer for me to navigate the piano if I play it. I mostly draw and paint right now tho…

I’m not a fan of wearing girly clothes, and I would rather stick to wearing good ol’ shirts, polo (long/short sleeves), pants, and hoodies style. I avoid drinking alcohol because I easily get tipsy; I’d turn into a loud drunk after a few sips.  My friends would often keep me away from who knows what they’re reading and watching stuff… Told me that they don’t want me to taint my innocent eyes and soul or something like that…I never cuss even if I’m used to hearing my classmates swear like a sailor. The first time my friends hear me accidentally swear, they look at me in horror and demanded me to know where I got that word🤣🤣

I don’t like loud and crowded places, I would feel dizzy and suffocated if I stayed there for too long. There will be times on where I’m nowhere to be found since I would look for an isolated place somewhere around the corner for me to hide whenever I want to draw or paint. I am not really confident of my skills in drawing; I have a bad habit of hiding those from my family *which annoys them*. I have another bad habit of being stubborn whenever I got sick, and I wouldn’t even let anyone know I am unwell because I do not want anyone to worry about me. But when someone noticed, I would admit that I am sick. *I would go to school even when sick so I can finish my school works because, whenever I miss a class, there will always be some of them who would deliberately not tell me that I missed something in class so…i learned the hard way.😅* …

I easily get startled by sudden noises if I let my guard down: objects making a loud sound when they drop. I don’t know how to deal with physical affections and would probably get stiff and flustered. I’m not used to guys hugging me cuz would go stiff whenever a guy hugs me *I love hugs and all but… I’m not used to being hugged by guys… 🙁* I’m a bit of a disaster-prone whenever I’m outside, and would accidentally hit my head on lower tree branches and lower places, sometimes I would accidentally sprain my ankle on the uneven ground *if someone made me wear heels especially if it’s stilettos*. 😅😅😅

Yay: I love my coffee with a ridiculous amount of milk and with less sugar; baking, cooking, sweets, drawing, painting, digital art, music, cats, dogs, pokemon, Manga, anime.

Nay: I despise certain types of vegetables that are bitter and slimy. My face would shrivel up seeing those kinds of vegetables. Animal cruelty is a big no-no for me; I normally don’t get angry, and I forgive people within a blink of an eye *that annoys my family a lot😅* but, I will make an exception for that.

I can control my own anger, that no one can tell I am fuming.

If it’s ok with you…😅😅😅 Took me a long time to figure out how to send a more detailed one. 😂😂 I think that’s enough spilling tmi about myself… Whoopsie…😅😅 🦊🐱🦊🐱

Hi hi love! ❤🌻Thank you so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this up for ya and i hope you enjoy it dear! ❤🦊Also i hope you are keeping safe and well and have a super good day!🐇❤ Also sooooorrrry for taking 2 billion years with this! hehe so without further ado........... @xarexraven

So I match you with…………… Theo

The first time you met everyone, you were so quiet and reserved hiding behind Comte. They took one look at you and instantly thought, “oooh great another male guest.” You were wearing a hoodie and jeans and your hair tie keeping your hair in a ponytail, had just snapped as you walked through the door. Comte gave you a gentle push to introduce yourself, and one look at your intimidating face, had the entire household believing that they had another tsundere in their midst. 

During dinner, you had hardly noticed that they all thought you were a boy. The residents all started retiring to their rooms after dessert, when Sebastian handed you a final cup of coffee, “Here you are sir.” Your eyes widened, and you started up at Sebastian in confusion, too shy to correct him/ That is when Comte who was still sitting beside you gave your head a gentle pat, “Sebastian it is quite rude to mistake our precious guest for a boy, especially one who is beautiful.” Both you and Sebastian were left blushing at the comment, that’s when Vincent, who was the only other resident still at the table, spoke up. “I have to agree with Comte, it is not nice to call someone so pretty, a boy.” The resident angel beamed up at you, while Sebastian apologised profusely, and through it all, the only thing you could think was, “man, this is awkward.”

The next morning after Comte explained the whole, everyone in this mansion is a vampire thing, you wandered around the mansion aimlessly. Well, that is until Napoleon came across you and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dining room, where a feast of sugary goodness laid wait. He told you that he had made way too many pancakes and that they needed help finishing them. No one in the mansion had seen you smile yet, but at the sight of the giant stack of sugary pancakes, you couldn’t help but beam. Vincent had spotted you and flagged you over to sit next to him. “Oi knaap, don’t go hog all the pancakes, save some of the rest of us will you,” Theo loudly exclaimed as you loaded up your plate to a stack of pancakes almost as high and his. At the sound of Theo calling you a boy, Vincent narrowed his eyes at Theo and started scolding his younger brother for being so rude. Theo stared at you in disbelief but with your hair now in a pony tail he simply shrugged and gave you a new nickname “Hondjie”. With the misunderstanding finally cleared up once and for all, you made quick work of polishing off the stack of pancakes with the three men.

After lunch Vincent gave Theo a detailed list of art supplies that he needed, and at the mention of art supplies your ears perked up. Your eyes gleamed in excitement, and your cold, aloof exterior changed to one of an excited child on Christmas morning. Your cheeks were starting to hurt, that had been a record of two smiles in one day. Although even though your smiling felt weird to you, to the three me it was the most beautiful sight. Theo took notice of your enthusiasm and in his typical indifferent voice, asked if you wanted to come along for the ride. You without a second thought nodded, you basically radiated excitement as you went upstairs to put on some shoes and get a jacket. You met Theo out in the foyer, and soon the two of you made your way to the art supply store. 

Comte had told you that you were free to break the bank and buy anything and everything your heart desired, on the condition that he would be able to see your first piece of art created with the new supplies. 

You were so excited at the thought of new art supplies and being able to continue your passion for art, even though you were stuck in the past, that you let your guard down a little with Theo. He asked you in his usual blunt way, why you were dressed like a boy and not wearing skirts and dresses like other women. You told him that you were most comfortable wearing pants and hoodies. The way your eyes were beaming, low key reminded him of his precious brother, and he found himself low key drawn to your pure, innocent energy. 

The two of you spent hours and hours picking out the perfect supplies, you were low key shook at Theo’s knowledge about art and supplies. He actually helped you pick out the best supplies for your personal drawing and painting style. After spending hours in the art shop. The two of you made your way to the waiting carriage, when Theo spotted an ice cream store, his eyes lit up at the thought of sweets. When you saw how excited he was, you suggested that the two of you investigate the shop before heading back. 

For the first time in Theo van Gogh whole existence, a woman had paid for him. He was sitting across from you in the ice cream parlour while you were happily eating away at your sugary treat, still trying to process it all. You had paid as a token of thanks for him helping you pick out the best art supplies. What shocked him even more was during argument about the bill you legit gave him a deadpan look and bluntly said that you were ganna treat him no matter what. After that comment you legit left him blushing and speechless, you truly were a strange woman.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments when you finally decided to break the ice. You curiously asked why it was that he knew so much about art, and that’s when he revealed that he was an art dealer. And so the rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about art, paintings, drawings and your mutual passion and appreciation for the trade. To say Theo was pleasantly surprised by you would be an understatement, his first impression of you was now so laughable compared to the person sitting before him. The first time he saw you, he thought you an aloof, little boy who seemed to judge him down to the very depths of his soul. Yet as he got to know you, he had come to realise that there was much more to you.

In the weeks to follow you seemed to surprise Theo more and more. The first thing that had this boy sister shook was your inhuman strength. One day as you were helping Isaac sorts out the library. The two of you had managed to fill up 2 huge boxes of junk and clutter that could be stored in the mansions attic. Isaac lifted one of the boxes and determined that it was too heavy for the both of you, so he went to call Theo or Leo who would have an easier job with doing the heavy lifting. As Theo rounded to the corner to help move the boxes, he almost rammed straight into you. “Oi hondjie, you are going to hurt yourself let me take…” As he took the box from your hands, his face started going red, and a vein in his neck started popping out. The box you had been carrying was obviously almost too heavy for him to carry, he turned around swiftly and started walking up the attic stairs. It took you no time to catch up to him carrying another heavy box of your own. At this point you could see a bead of sweat roll down his face. Theo was determined to carry this box up, there was no way he was going to be shown up by a girl, especially one that he liked. He finally made it to the top of the attic and place the box down with a huff, you had to laugh at the small blush that was still on his cheeks. 

Just then out of the corner of your eye, an old piano caught your attention. Theo eyed you curiously still recovering from the blow to his ego, as you sat down on the dusty piano chair and blew the dust of the piano keys. Your fingers moved to their own accord, gliding across the keys to play a familiar song from muscle memory. Theo sat down next to you and closed his eyes to absorb the beautiful melody. As the last note echoed through the attic, Theo opened his eyes, and sapphire eyes glared down into the depths of your soul. He had honestly never in his life felt more drawn to anyone, before he could say anything your stomach gave a loud growl. It was now your turn to blush and look away in embarrassment. Theo then leads you downstairs, where he whipped you up some stroopwafels.

You tied the apron around your waist and helped Theo prepare the sugary dessert. You were so excited and happy, you loved baking and learning/exchanging new recipes. Once the two of you were done making the sweet snack, you sat down and munched on the Stroop waffles and coffee. The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting about your mutual hate for bitter slimy vegetables and love for dogs as you ate the sugary snack and sipped on coffee. This actually started a tradition between the two of you, where once in a while the two of you would exchange recipes and cook your favourite dishes together.

One day as Theo joined Comte in his room for some tea, he saw a beautiful painting hanging behind Comte, it was just filled with so much emotion. “Hey, Comte, did Vincent paint that one, I haven’t seen it before.” Comte gleamed in delight and told him that you were the artist responsible for the masterpiece and that you had given it to him as a thank you gift for the art supplies. Theo was shook, he knew you loved art but to have created such a masterpiece. He stomped his way to your room and knock on your door. He could hear shuffling from the other side, he swung the door open and spotted you throwing a heap full of tissues in the dustbin and hiding the trashcan behind you. All it took was one look at your red nose, pale face and tired eyes to know that you were clearly sick. You tried to play it off and make your way past Theo to help Sebastian with lunch service, when Theo picked you up and plonked you down on your bed. The second your head hit the pillow, your tired eyes closed and you lost consciousness. You woke a few hours later to Theo sitting by your side gently stroking your hair while placing a cold washcloth on your forehead every now and then. You stubbornly tried to convince him that you weren’t sick. Theo narrowed his eyes at you and in a soft, gentle tone said, “Hondjie can you just stop being stubborn for one minute and let me take care of you.” Theo had nursed you back to full health and you got to see a new side of Theo that you had never seen before, his sweet kind gentle side. It was actually during this time when Theo had confessed his undying love for you.

Theo love love loved your art and would insist you show him your masterpieces once you are done with them.  He knew your weren't confident in your skills and would usually hide your drawings so he did what any reasonable person would do. He tickled you until you gave up the hiding spot so he could see your creation.

He also knows you don’t like crowded places or loud noises, so he actually cleared up a room for you to use as your own art room to work in peace, where no one was allowed to disturb you. 

He knew you would get dizzy and feel suffocated whenever the two of you would walk through a busy crowd in the markets. So now every time the two of you cuties go out, he was sure to plan your route using back roads to avoid unnecessary crowds or he would bring King along for a walk with you. Even though King is a sweet, friendly golden retriever, he has come to love you and will do whatever it takes to protect the new member of his pack. Even if that means angry staring down people so they can part like the red sea before you and Theo.

Theo absolutely loves you to the moon and back. He loves your sweet innocent mind and will always cover your ears and glare daggers at Arthur whenever he is telling stories of previous nights conquests as he “doesn’t want Arthur to taint your innocent mind and soul.” 

He absolutely loves to finally have someone around who gets his dark, morbid sense of humour and who can equally match his weird jokes. Often when the two of you are together, you would be quick-firing the weirdest jokes at each other, while being in stitches laughing at each other.

Theo also loves how you have similar beliefs as him in not judging people. It was due to this that he was completely able to open up about his past with you. You helped him to heal and grow from his past traumas. You helped catch him many a time before falling in the abyss, dragging him out back into the light. 

Both of you were pretty awkward when it came to physical affection at the beginning of your relationship. However, after many, a stiff, awkward hug followed by a fit of laughter from how awkward the two of you were, eventually the two of you started to get more comfortable around each other. 

Now when Theo cuddles you, as you draw him as a manga character, the two of you chuckle at the memory of how stiff and awkward it was the first time the two of you had even held hands. Theo will 100% always insist on holding your hand whenever the two of you go outside as he knows just how accident-prone you are when it comes to nature.

Ultimately Theo loves to spend quiet evenings with you snuggled up in his arms as the two of you exchange stories of each other days. He loves to read all your little manga’s you manage to create for him. Although he will never admit it, he always gets super excited when you tell him about an anime you watched or show him your newest manga drawing. He will shower you with endless amounts of hugs and cuddles from the moment you go to bed till the moment you wake up. And every morning without fail Theo will greet you with a freshly bred cup of milky coffee and a kiss.

Other potential matches…………… Vincent 

I hope you enjoyed this dear and i hope you have the best day! 🦊🌻❤

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 17 - prt1

17

Keeping up with the tradition, they all wound up back at Lance’s house. Keith and Pidge were bonding with Blue, his cat a ho when it came to pats... on her terms of course. Keith seemed mystified over what to do when a cat sat in your lap. Blue was a traitor, bunting up into Keith’s chin because she was a traitorous whore with no taste. In the kitchen with Hunk, Lance nursed a mug of warm wine mixed with blood, as Hunk baked. He couldn’t stop himself. He needed to unwind and Lance was happy to provide his kitchen for that

“Did you really break your phone, man?”

Lance looked over the rim of his mug

“Yep. Dropped it on my bedroom floor. It shattered on the spot”

“You said we’d talk... I’m feeling kind of left out man”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel left out”

“Ever since Keith came along, you’ve been acting weird. I know sometimes Pidge can be full on, but I thought we were tight”

“We are tight”

“Then what haven’t you been telling me? I’ve told you things I wouldn’t think of telling Pidge”

Lance felt as if Keith had gotten his wish and staked him through the heart

“It’s not like that...”

“Then what is it like?”

The vampire didn’t have a whole lot of options. He could confess he was a vampire and give Hunk a heart attack. He could keep lying, which was clearly hurting Hunk. He could claim Keith was threatening him, but then Pidge and Hunk would want to take things into their own hands... Fuck... He didn’t want to hurt Hunk. Lying really did hurt. His friends were so special to him that he hated having to distance himself... semi lies were as bad as the real thing

“Okay... okay... the truth is I’m not really over being sick. I’m still feeling sick most of the time and I’m not used to having company all the time. I didn’t want to tell you because you worry about me so damn much. I’ll recover, good as new, but I’m supposed to have spent this last week resting up as much as possible. I can’t help myself, I love hanging out with you and Pidge, so when you invite me I can’t say no. I pushed myself a little too hard to fast, but I promise I’m working on getting better”

Hunk’s eyes immediately welled with tears

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because all I need is to catch on some sleep. You and Pidge are my best friends. I want to make as many memories with you as I can. I also had a call that wasn’t great, so that’s been on my mind too”

“A call?”

“A work call. The woman was strung out of her mind, I had to call in a welfare check on her. It’s been exhausting, but nothing a few good nights sleep won’t cure”

“Man... I wish you’d told me. We could have gone back home...”

“It’s okay”

“It’s not okay. If you’re sick, you need to be resting. I’ll tell Pidge while you get ready for bed”

“Dude, I’m okay”

“Please, stop being stubborn! Pidge and I both know you’ve never been really well. You’re always so pale. But you never tell us anything. We’re your friends, we want you to rely on us”

He’d been told that by Hunk before, playing it off as a low immune had bought him about a years worth of silence on the matter

“I do. I love you guys like family. That’s why... that’s why it’s so hard. We’ll watch what Pidge filmed, then head to bed”

“Absolutely not. I’ll have dad come pick us up. Keith can crash at mine for the night”

“You don’t need to do that”

“I don’t need to, but I want to. Let me help”

Passing Keith off was a terrible idea. Keith didn’t mix well with others. If he snapped anything was likely to come out... but what Lance wouldn’t give for a night without having to worry about waking Keith

“His brother Shiro should be swinging around tomorrow to pick him up. It’ll be fine, it’s only one more night. Plus, if we don’t watch the film now we won’t be able to watch it all together as a group”

Sure, most of Keith’s face was hidden behind the mask but Lance could tell all his expressions from the way his muscles moved. His brain told him that at any rate. His imagination must have been filling in the blanks automatically based on what he knew of Keith’s personality

“You need rest”

“I’ll be resting on my chair. Nothing strenuous happening, other than being in trouble with Pidge for talking. We’ll watch the video, pick out what to keep and what to edit, then I’ll go straight up to bed”

Hunk sighed, picking up the closest tea towel off the kitchen bench as he did

“You better. I’ll still have dad pick us up. And you need to answer your phone”

“I only have my work phone and the home phone”

“Exactly. Two other ways of calling”

“I can’t promise I’ll hear them, but if I see you’ve called, I’ll call back. Deal?”

Holding his hand out, Hunk took it, his handshake firm

“Deal. Don’t go around worrying me like that, man. I’m still recovering from tonight. Did you see that grey stuff?”

“It was the light off the camera. From having the viewfinder open and in night mode. That’s my bet. That combined with dust. Anyway, anything haunting that place would have made themselves scarce thanks to Pidge. I wouldn’t want to be a ghost and on the wrong side of her”

“I thought she was literally going to blow steam from her ears. She was so cranky”

“Especially when Keith tripped. I thought she was going to go turn him into a ghost on the spot”

Lance snorted as he smiled. Keith would be the dopiest ghost. He’d probably actually turn into one, but go around thinking he was human

“So did I. Our little gremlin is viscous. How long do the cookies need?”

“10 minutes. Go on ahead, I’ll be in soon”

“Alright, buddy. Don’t forget to use the dishwasher instead of doing the dishes by hand. Tonight was hard on you too. You deserve to kick back and relax”

“Yep, will do”

Pidge had Lance’s laptop on her lap when Lance headed into the living room

“Pidge! You’re not supposed to be on there!”

Pidge jumped at being sprung in the act

“I was ordering you a new phone. What kind of idiot doesn’t use a lifeproof case?”

“Me when they’re not very lifeproof. You know there’s sensitive files on there”

“Relax. All I did was open the browser. I don’t want to know about your cases”

“That’s beside the point. How you feel if you were one of them. And, it’s not like I can’t buy a new phone from the post office”

“You can, but I’m picking out a good one”

“Nope. No. I just need a cheap one where I can message you guys, take photos of Blue, and watch cat videos”

“Pffft. No. Trust me, you need to embrace the future, no more living in the past. Now, what colour do you want?”

“I don’t care about colour”

“You’re hopeless! Here’s one for $1500”

“Absolutely no way. I can’t justify spending that much on a phone. No. I’m fine with a $120 cheapie”

“You’re not fine and those things are an insult to technology. Help me out Keith”

Keith’s expression said he was in for trouble. Keith would do anything to mess with his life further, including taking revenge by making Lance pay out an unreasonable amount of money. Give it enough time and everything flashy would become standard for much cheaper

“I don’t know if he’s allowed something, or if he’d just wind up breaking it”

“Damn! Nice one. Okay, I’m ordering your phone now...”

“Pidge!”

“... and it’s done. You can thank me later with a shitload of photos of Blue. She’s such a diva. You should make her her own socials”

Lance didn’t love socials. He didn’t love the fakeness. He wished people could see and love the things in them that they might hate because society had made them feel like shit. He only had socials because of Pidge and his Mami. Most of what he posted was of Blue and her perfect little toe beans... with the occasional, less than lady like, tongue blep as she glared at him. He wasn’t putting pressure on Blue to be perfect for an audience

“Seriously?”

“Yep. A new case is coming too. This one should be Lance proof. Do we need to think about putting child safety devices in place?”

“I don’t know, Pidgeon. Do I need to think about digging a shallow grave when I see the price?”

“Maybe... is it for me, or for you?”

“I don’t know yet”

“Then I don’t know either. Hurry up and sit down already, you can have your precious laptop back. I don’t see why you need the desktop set up and a laptop. Both are practically antiques”

“You did both builds last year”

Pidge moaned

“Exactly, antiques. A painful reminder of my youth”

“Keith, do me a favour and punch Pidge in the arm for me. She’s being an idiot”

Keith ignored him, scratching the base of Blue’s back where it met her tail, Blue purring. Everybody in the room sucked. If it worked and did what it was meant to, Lance was fine with it not being the latest and greatest

“Ha! He knows better than to hit me”

“Yeah, because he’s as scared of you as the rest of us”

Pitch ditched a cushion in his direction, that missed him completely

“Rude”

“Merp”

Keith simply snorted at the both of them, Blue was taking up too much of the hunter’s attention. Still, he was going to be the bigger man, no wet food for Blue until she came back and loved him again.

*

The next week of Lance’s life passed slowly. Very fucking slowly in parts. His thirst wasn’t getting better, Keith wanted to fight every day, he didn’t have the energy to keep up with his work, feeling like he was letting all his clients down. Something in his gut was trying to tell him something, and Lance wasn’t sure what it was. He hadn’t heard from Shiro. Keith’s answer to that problem was that Shiro would come back when it was safe. But “safe for who?” was a totally different question. Lance had found that gradually he was getting used to Keith’s presence. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this kind of uneasy peace. Keith grudgingly ate Lance’s cooking. The idiot had burned toast... in the toaster. It didn’t take a degree to be able to put two pieces in and pull down the lever, but somehow he’d done it. He’d set off the fire alarms, waking Lance, who immediately went into panic mode. Smacking his arm on the wall, he’d burst the blood blister building beneath his skin, smearing blood on the wall, as he swore. Rushing into the kitchen, the toaster was on fire, Lance ripping the cord out the all and dumping the lot in the sink.

Swapping the washing from the machine to the dryer, Lance closed his eyes and counted to 10 before opening them again. He could hear Keith shuffling around in the kitchen. He could hear his phone vibrating on the bench. The way his coffee machine slowly came to life told him he had all of 5 minutes before Keith would be all up in his face demanding that they fight. He could be in the middle of vacuuming and Keith would still pop up and demand to fight. He seemed to be working out a style for himself and organising his thoughts as he did. He still hadn’t decided on Keith, but he had to give him some credit. He kept trying and he kept getting back up... He was still to get an actual blow in that Lance hadn’t allowed. Maybe he was sick from Keith continually beating him up? And maybe he was kind of enjoying things more than he let himself believe. Or maybe his defences were lower than normal thanks to still being sick.

“Lance! Message!”

So Keith was his answering service now? Where was that in the terms and agreements of having his house hijacked?

“I know! I heard! Some dick didn’t bring all his washing out!”

“That’d be you!”

Like fuck it was. His lapses didn’t count when it was his house and he was going through stuff. Watching Keith try to wash and live in two sets of clothes was painful, so now he had three sets, plus underwear and socks of his own. He had a whole damn drawer in the spare bedroom, the Hunter basically moved in

“Fuck off!”

So much for his calming breath.

Heading into the kitchen, Keith had coffee made for the both of them. Yeah, Lance would have preferred tea but Keith seemed adamant on conquering the coffee machine

“Who was the call from?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t check it”

Lance raised an eyebrow

“I thought that was your thing, snooping on people’s calls?”

“Very funny old man. You look worse than you did yesterday”

“Isn’t that good for you?”

“No. I can’t learn anything if you’re half dead”

“If only I’d known that all along. I would have been off the hook long ago”

“Ha ha fucking ha”

“Shut up drink and your coffee”

Snatching his phone up, Lance’s chest went tight, his stomach dropped and his knees nearly went with it

“What’s wrong?”

Opening the message recorded, Lance held it to his ear as his hands shook

“Hi, Lance, it’s Sally here. Your grandmother’s taken a bit of a fall. She was awake when we found her, but we’ve transferred her to Platt General hospital. I’m sorry to drop this on you. If you want to give them a call, they might have more information for you...”

Lance’s phone slipped from his hand, Keith catching it before he could break another one

“Lance?”

“I’ve got to go”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t concern you... fuck...”

He was getting teary. His Mami wasn’t as strong as she’d once been

“Hey...”

Brushing Keith off, Lance started scrambling to get ready, his head already dreaming up worst case scenarios. Had his Mami fallen or had it been something more? Had something happened? Was she not telling him something?

Racing out the front door, he made straight for his car. The key didn’t seem to want to go into the ignition, Lance screaming at it in frustration

“Move over, I’ll drive”

Lance nearly told Keith to fuck himself. He didn’t know why he’d followed him out. Sliding across the bench seat, Keith climbed into the drivers seat

“What’s happened?”

“It’s... I need to get to Platt general”

“You’ll have to give me directions. What’s going on? Who’s in hospital?”

“My Mami...”

Whatever smart reply Keith had for that died on the man’s tongue. Giving a nod, Keith got the key into the ignition, the old bronco starting with a rumble.

The drive to Platt was horrible. It passed in a blur as Lance prayed to whoever was out there that it wouldn’t be something major. Barking directions at Keith, Keith copped all his bad mood and worry, the hunter barely parked before Lance was rushing to get out the car. He hadn’t even bothered to clip in his damn seatbelt for the drive

“Lance, take a breath”

“Fuck you”

“Your teeth are fucking showing”

Oh... he was making a vampire face... fuck... he felt like he was about to throw up across his feet. He needed to see his Mami, and Keith’s presence was the only thing keeping him from completely losing himself. The hunter deserved a break

“Do you know what ward she’s on?”

“No. They didn’t say...”

“Okay, we’ll find out together”

Lance should have known Keith knew all about his family. Keeping his hand on Lance’s good arm, to keep him from running off, Keith talked to the woman at the front information desk, finding his Mami’s room with more patience than Lance had. He’d been here before with his Mami, so he should have remembered the way up to the floor, Keith nearly getting them lost because Lance couldn’t stop the flood of tears rolling down his face over the fact his Mami wasn’t dead. Finding the right ward, the nurse at the desk looked up at them like she was perplexed by their presence, telling them that only family was allowed to see his Mami. With choked words Lance explained that he was her grandson and emergency contact, which was apparently Luis on the hospital side of things. It wasn’t supposed to be him. Lance lived the closest, and he was the one who always made time for his Mami. When the woman looked to Keith, Lance explained that he was Mami’s other grandson, Keith not at all comfortable with the sudden promotion to family. Signing in, the nurse led them to his Mami’s room. She’d fractured her hip in the fall, and done a bang up job on her face, Lance nearly face planting as his emotions grew further out of control.

Propped up on pillows, Lance let out a fresh sob at his Mami’s face. Keith telling the nurse he’d call if they needed anything. His Mami looked so frail, far too frail, her complexion washed out, but when she saw him, she was raising her arms towards him

“Oh, Mijo...”

Walking over to his Mami, Lance wrapped his arms around her the best he could

“I’m okay. It’s just the silly head of mine. I got a little muffled”

“I was so scared”

“I know, you’ve always had a sweet heart. But you know it takes more than a fall to stop me”

Lance snorted a laugh, well aware he was snotting on his Mami’s shoulder

“I was still scared. Sally called to let me know”

“She’s got a big mouth, that one. They say I’m off to surgery soon, time for the good drugs”

“Mami!”

His mother chuckled, her strength wasn’t what it was, so Lance reluctantly drew out of her embrace to sit beside her

“Now, enough of that face. It’s a fractured hip, I’ve still got plenty of life in this old bird”

“You’re not old”

“Says you”

“Touché... fuck... I felt like...”

He felt as scared as when his Papi passed

“You didn’t lose me just yet. My face is sorer than the leg. I’m a tough old duck”

“That doesn’t make me feel better”

“That’s because you worry too much. Now, who is your handsome friend here?”

Right. Fuck... He didn’t know if his teeth were still showing... but this was his Mami and he’d never been that great at keeping secrets from her

“This is Keith... he knows...”

“Nice to meet you “Keith He Knows”... I’m hoping you did the driving and not Lance”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am”

His Mami laughed, her slight wince in the corner of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Lance. She had to be in a lot of pain, despite what she was saying and how she was acting

“Gracious. Where did he find you. Miriam is fine, dear. Now, I know my son is a worrywart, so could be a dear and find him a cup of tea for his nerves?”

“I think I can...”

“Thank you. It’s nice to see Lance is making friends. He’s so insistent that he’s fine alone. I hope you’re a good friend to him”

Keith took the the opening to flee, Lance didn’t blame him. They weren’t friends... he didn’t know what they were

“Mijo, I’m okay. Where did you meet Keith “who knows”?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does when my baby boy is making friends... or is there something you’re not telling you Mami”

Lance groaned

“You sound like Pidge”

���Ah, she’s a smart girl. Sooo... you and Keith?”

“Aren’t like that... He’s a human for one thing”

“And?”

“And a single drop of my blood could change all that, plus, I’m pretty sure he actually hates me”

“Ooooh, my little Mijo is growing up!”

His Mami must have been high

“Mami, he’s a hunter”

“I can see how that could make things difficult... Is he here to kill you?”

How could his Mami sound so blasé about his death?

“He wanted to. But things happened. Now he’s annoying houseguest”

“I hope you’ve been treating him right”

“Mami!”

“Good chinaware and fresh sheets...”

Lance groaned

“Mami, it’s not like that. How can you be so calm?”

“Because I can tell he’s not going to kill you”

“How?”

“Just call it a Mami feeling”

“I think Mami’s feeling high”

“A bit. A bit annoyed this happened before bingo. That Andy Jefferies always wins the good stuff. His walker might have to go for a walk”

“Mami!”

“I’m just saying... oh, never mind. Luis should be here soon”

Fucking Luis...

“Don’t make a face like that, Mijo. He is your brother”

“I know and someone changed me from their emergency contact here”

“Well Luis and Lisa are thinking of making the move here...”

“I’m already here”

“I know you are, dear. But you can’t chase after your Mami forever”

“I’m pretty sure I can. I mean, vampire and that”

Lance injected scoff into his tone. He didn’t want to seem as jealous as he was. He’d always thought he’d had a special bond with his Mami, and the rest of his family all had families of their own... except for Rachel. She’d had a troubled life, thanks to him

“You know what I mean”

“I do, but you don’t get to think that you’re rid of me anytime soon”

“I wouldn’t dream of such freedom”

His Mami was viscous

“Now, give me hug. This old body doesn’t always like cooperating”