#he is the only nocturnal one in this group of friends

[nickynclark]

I'D BE ONE NOCTURNAL SON OF A GUN

Eddie Munson x Female! Reader

Word Count: 2,748

Content warning: SMUT (18+ only below the cut), no use of (Y/N), lowkey toxic parents, harsh language, mentions of drug use (mary jane, bby), mentions of reader being on birth control, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it for the love of god), choking and breeding if you squint.

Summary: Your parents hate Eddie Munson, and you just can't find it in you to leave the crazy haired freak.

Authors Note: Y'all this is porn with plot. And it's my first ever smut so pls be nice to me. I'll be publishing a Spencer Reid fic soon enough ;) Love ya! - nick

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Growing up, you were a perfect child. You did ballet and took piano lessons. You ate all of your vegetables. You got straight A’s. You played nicely with the other children.

So you can imagine your parents’ reaction when their perfect little girl told them about her friendship with Eddie Munson.

“That freak?” Your mom gasped, “my god, you must be joking.”

“Are you doing drugs with him?” Your dad quickly intervened.

You sat in front of them like a kicked puppy, quietly looking at your hands as they lectured you over Eddie.

You and Eddie met your freshman year of high school in chemistry class. He wasn’t good at english or science, and you were. You would help him do his homework (aka give him your answers) and he would let you sit with his odd ball friends at lunch. To you, rumors and all, he was lovely.

You two had been best friends for a long time, despite your parents' distaste. They even decided to set you up on a date with Steve Harrington your senior year: a sad attempt to separate you and Eddie.

It only lasted a week or two, and when you explained the situation to Steve, he understood. He was kind and promised to never let your parents know you even broke up.

“I could tell,” Steve said on your last date, “your head is always somewhere else. No sweat.”

To your parents, you are back to their perfect daughter. But everyday after school, when your parents think you're at a study hall, you're in the little room with a group of ‘freaks’, Eddie wearing the crown.

***

Eddie displayed the table in front of him, with only two characters left standing- yourself and Vecna.

“There is nothing wrong with running, sweetheart." Eddie's tone is cocky, "You can walk away now, everything will be okay.”

You squint up at him, “when have you ever known me to run?”

Eddie just laughs, signature smirk on his lips, “then roll.”

You grab the twenty sided die, fondling it in your hand. You roll the die between your fingers, a focused look on your face.

“C'mon! Just walk away,” Mike whispered, “if you roll then you can lose. Walking away isn’t a loss.”

“Shut up, Freshy,” you smile and elbow him in the side, “you’ve only been with me through one campaign. I never run away.”

You bring the die up to your lips and blow on it, keeping eye contact with Eddie through the process. He keeps his signature smirk on his face, but his eyes are nervous.

With a final smile, the die leaves your hand, rolling across the table, clambering it’s way down.

When it stops, Eddie looks down with a smile on his face, “natural twenty, sweetheart," he looks back up to you, "that's a hit."

The group at the table erupted into cheers, Dustin laughing at Eddie while pointing aggressively.

“Well done, Princess.” Eddie smiles and sits back in his throne.

**

After all the boys clear out, it’s just you and Eddie in the Hellfire room. Eddie let his smile falter as soon as they were gone; you knew he hated to lose a campaign, but it was always a little easier on him when you were the last man standing.

You walk towards him and stand in between his spread knees, “hi,” you look down at his slumped body, “hell of a campaign, you know. I was convinced I wasn’t going to roll right, you know my luck.”

Eddie looks at you shyly, “I know, Sweetheart. But I was really expecting a loss from you guys.”

“You always are, Eds.”

He smiles and sits up a little bit, “you’re right,” then he shifts himself to lean closer to you, “how’s Harrington?”

You step back from him with a small smile, “Done. He couldn’t handle me.”

Eddie sits up all the way, smirking, “no one can, Princess,” his hands lift to rest on your hips, “except me, my Queen of Hellfire.”

You laugh, “it was my call, though. He wasn’t my guy.”

“How so?”

You step back up into him looking down at him, “he’s not tall enough, he doesn’t have enough tattoos,” Eddie begins to stand up to tower over you, “he doesn’t smoke, and, most of all,” you move your hand to his hair, his face inches away from yours, “he doesn’t have good enough curly hair.”

Eddies breath hitches in his throat, clearly nervous and excited, and, when you almost gave in, your parent’s voice came into your head.

You back up from him reluctantly “It was a great campaign, Eds.”

And you walked out of the room listening for Eddie to call for you, but he never did.

**

Two days later, your parents were at church while you stayed home. Around 10 o'clock that morning, you heard a knock on the door. You quickly pulled your hair back and went to the front door. When you opened it, you were shocked to see Eddie standing in front of you, hair disheveled, still in his flannel pajama bottoms and a crinkled white shirt, smelling of weed and a his woody cologne.

He looked down at you as if you were a stranger before speaking, “why did you do that?”

“Eddie, why did I do what?”

“Friday. After Hellfire. Why did you do that?” He reached his hand up to rest on your cheek, “did you not know what you do to me?”

You stutter out an apology, “Eds, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would upset you-“

“Upset me?” Eddie laughed, “Sweetheart, I need to know if it was a play. Did you mean what you said?”

You look into his chocolate eyes before finally giving in, lean into his warm touch, “yes, Eddie, god, yes, I meant every word.”

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was bruising, and the entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about how bad you needed to know how he tasted, and now you knew: a beautiful mix of mint and herb.

As you pulled away panting, he rested his forehead against yours.

“My parents will kill me if they see you here,” you tell him quietly through kisses.

He picked you up bridal style, kissing your forehead and whispering “I won’t let them,” while he carries you upstairs to your room.

You planted gentle kisses to his neck until he dropped you onto your bed, leaning over you and kissing you roughly. As he kissed you, his hands found their way to your hips and yours around his neck.

“Fuck, Princess, I’ve waited for this for too damn long,” Eddie whispered into your neck where he was sucking and biting, attacking the soft skin connecting your neck and shoulder.

You started to tug on his hair, “Eds,” and he pulled up and looked at you, “you are my perfect person.”

He smiled softly and kissed your lips, hands finding your pajama shorts and slipping his pinkie underneath the band, touching more of your bare hips. Your back arched up into his grip as his rings chilled your skin, and he smirked into your kiss.

“Eddie, please,” you whine to him.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Anything, Eddie, please.”

Eddie looks up at you before his hands fully grip your waistband, “are you sure?”

You lift your hips, begging, “yes, Eddie, god yes, please.”

He smirked, pulling down your sleep shorts, “easy, Tiger.”

As soon as your shorts are down your legs, you are pulling off the lace thong that conceals you from him.

When he notices this, he’s sliding down to the foot of your bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down with him. He makes easy work of spreading your thighs, smiling as he sees your already wet pussy.

“Damn, Sweetheart, is all of this for me?” He mumbles as he moves his hand up to spread your lips, getting a better view.

You whine at the contact, “yes Eddie, all for you.”

Eddie starts to plant open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs while he slowly slides one of his ringed fingers inside of you, watching you wiggle at the sensitive contact. He starts to suck deep purple bruises onto your thighs as he inserts another finger, quickly curling and scissoring them, smiling as you moan loudly at his doing, your hands finding their way to his hair.

“Eddie, god, babe, your mouth, please,” you whine loudly, causing him to bite down on your thigh.

“You want my mouth, darling? Want my tongue?” You whimper in response, “Words, baby.”

You huff loudly, “yes, Eds, I need your mouth on me.”

He licked a thick stripe up your opening to your clit, moaning at the taste. He took your clit it into his mouth and started sucking lightly, causing you to see stars.

He continued to eat you out like his life depends on it, his fingers finding their way back inside of you, working you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He adds one more finger, stretching you out so fully arounds his three large digits, and licking and sucking so feverishly you don’t know how much longer you can last.

“Eddie, baby, fuck-“ you moan, grinding on his tongue, “I’m going to cum. Fuck, can I come? Should I even be asking you?”

Eddie laughs at you rambling, sending a vibration through your pussy up to the knot in your stomach.

He keeps working you until your thighs are shaking and trying to close around his head. He works you into a mewling mess, and only then does he pull away just enough to say, “come on my tongue, princess.”

His lips reconnect with you, working you through your high, your moans loud until you finally come to a stop.

Eddie climbs up your body, kissing you feverishly, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Baby, you’re so sweet. Could eat you out forever.”

You smile and kiss him, sitting up, “your turn.”

He stands up, and you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches happily as you work his pants off of him, your eyes growing at the print of him in his boxers. He was long and thick, and had a glorious spot of pre-cum on the fabric. You connect your lips to the wet spot, moaning at the salty flavor.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie placed a hand on your cheek pulling you away from him, “we can stop at any time. You don’t have to do this.”

You smile up at him from your knees, “I want to. Stop worrying.”

He looks down at you lovingly, swiping your cheek with his thumb, “then, as much as I love how it looks on you, that hellfire shirt’s got to go.”

You raise your arms as he pulls it off of you, groaning at the sight of your braless chest.

You quickly pull down his boxers, admiring the beautiful cock in front of you. It’s thick and even longer than it looked when concealed. It has a vein running along the side of it, and his tip is a pretty pink color with a bead of pre-cum leaking out of his slit.

You lean in and place a quick kiss to his tip before taking it into your mouth, sucking softly on his cock, then quickly pulling off.

“Of course your cock would be pretty too,” you smile before licking a stripe underneath him, then taking him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

He moans loudly, his hands gripping your hair as you settle on a tempo, occasionally popping off to breathe or spit onto his dick.

“Sweetheart, holy hell,” Eddie moans as you look up at him as innocently as you can with a mouth stuffed with his cock, “I can’t tell if you came from, fuck, heaven or hell with that mouth. I could have had this this entire time?”

You hum around him in agreement, causing him to moan again.

After a little while of constant sucking, a sore jaw, and hands gripping his thighs, he stills your head and begins fucking your face.

You gag around him at the intrusion, then you settle into the pace, meeting him half way.

“Fuck, darling, I won’t last. Sweetheart, god fuck-“ he pulls away from me before he’s able to finish.

“Why’d you-“

He smiles, “ I want to cum inside you for our first time,” he rushes over to his pants and feels the pocket, “shit. I left my wallet at home, do you have condoms?”

You shake your head quietly.

He sighs, “it’s okay, I’ll just-“

“I'm on the pill.”

He smiles, “you sure?” And you nod.

As he climbs on top of you, with a panicked look, he starts, “you promise this isn’t some weird way of getting child support out of me? ‘Cause selling weed doesn’t exactly pay the-“

You laugh loudly, “Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, baby?”

You look at him with doe eyes, “wanna fuck me?”

He groans loudly, “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

He climbed on top of you, spreading your legs apart and lining his dick up with your slick hole, “you ready, sweetheart?”

You smile softly, “yes, please.”

As soon as you feel the tip of him slip inside of you, a loud moan leaves your lips, your eyes widening and your hands gripping Eddies back.

He rests his head on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck, “I know baby, I know. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He slowly pushes in further until he’s all the way inside of you, then he stills to allow you to adjust to his size.

His teeth sink into the skin of your neck as he grunts, "you're so tight, Baby."

You whimper at the praise, “God, Eddie, move, please god, fuck me.”

He didn't need any more convincing. His hips suddenly snap in and out of you with fever. The sound of skin hitting skin and your moans mixing together fills your small room.

Eddie bites and sucks on your chest, moaning at the sensation, “fuck, princess, 's like you were made for me. Can’t wait to ruin this sweet pussy of yours.”

As Eddie keeps talking, fucking you harder and faster, your head is spinning with ecstasy, moans slipping out of your mouth faster than you can stop them, until, quickly, Eddie pushes one of your knees to your chest, pushing himself even deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, Eds. Right there, baby! Shit!”

Eddie moves one of his hands to your throat, pounding into you rapidly, showing no mercy to your body.

“Eds, fuck! I’m gunna cum, can I please fucking cum?” Your moans echo around the small room.

Eddie holds onto you tightly, his thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular, “hang on, sweetheart, I’m almost there,” he thrusts quickly, “where do you want it?”

You drag your nails down his back, “inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

You moan, “yes! Eddie, please! Fill me up with your cum, please!”

He groans and thrusted once or twice more, “cum, baby, cum with me.”

The knot that built in your stomach untied as you felt hot spurts of cum filling you up. You let out loud whimpers of ecstasy while Eddie rocked you through it, whispering sweet praises into your ear.

As you finished, he rolled off of you, laying next to you on your bed.

“Wow.”

You giggle in agreement, “definitely wow.”

Suddenly, the front door slams open, “honey, we’re home!”

Your mom shouts through the house, causing you and Eddie to scramble getting dressed.

Your mom walked in just as you both got clothed, sitting on the bed with a magazine and him messing with his guitar pick necklace.

“Hi,” you say gently, as if Eddies cum wasn’t leaking out of you onto your light pink bed spread beneath you.

“Honey," her tone is sickly sweet, "what is he doing here?” She smiled tightly.

“Oh, him?” You point to Eddie, “we’re just hanging out. He is my boyfriend you know.”

Eddie looks at you shocked before a smirk settles on his kiss swollen lips, and he reaches out to hold your hand.

Your mom looks at you, her smile now a glare.

“You can either leave this man, or never see the light of day again.”

Eddie stood up and grabbed his shoes, preparing to leave. His lips sat in a frown.

He thought this was over.

“Hey babe?” You grab his arm.

“Huh?” He looked at you confused.

You give him a quick kiss and your mom gasps, “I’ll see you at sunset.”

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Taglist: @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @deadbolted

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[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can i get headcanons for whats it like everyday in the mansion

I hope I did okay on this, I tried to just summarize a general average day for you

While there can be a lot of chaos in the mansion with so many people going through so many different things, on any random given day it's actually more normal than you might assume. They've all lived together for so long that they essentially function as a family, and they tend to get along for the most part. If it's a training day, their days start early. They're usually up by 6 or 7 on training days, all working in groups to train specific aspects for their job, or just working out together and getting in their exercise for the day. If it's not an exercise day, they all tend to sleep in to different times, and if they don't have work at all for the day some of them can sleep quite late.

Usually Slender handles breakfast as he's always the one up the earliest, but generally they try and rotate shifts for meals. I think they'd have a board in the kitchen, and whoever is going to cook the following day will write down either what they want to make for their meals, or they'll write a few foods that they can vote on and they'll make whatever wins. Depending on their schedules and how much they like cooking a creep might cook all three meals or just one or two, as cooking for that many people is a lot of work, so they tend to work in pairs sometimes as well. After breakfast, they tend to disperse for the day. Anyone on duty to handle chores (dishes, cleaning, organizing, etc.) will usually begin doing that, and anyone who has a mission to handle will get ready for that. Anyone who has nothing to do usually hangs out in their friend groups in the mansion, and they'll go out or stay in and play games or watch something, or just hang out. Most days in the mansion are actually pretty calm, with not a lot of rambunctious energy and trouble happening. Someone will make lunch and everyone home who is hungry will group back together to eat and chat, and then they tend to disperse again.

Dinner is the one meal in the mansion that requires mandatory attendance (unless you're not feeling well) because Slender likes to have everyone together for dinner. They all fill up Slender's long dining table and eat and talk and joke around, and it's when all of them tend to be most content. I said in a very, very, very old post that they have different events happening every day of the week as well. Monday night is Slender's book club night in the mansion, Tuesday afternoons Toby and Helen host an art club, Wednesday mornings Jeff hosts a workout class to help everyone learn new exercises and target specific types of workouts, Thursday night is movie night and Friday night is game night and BEN is in charge of both of those, Saturday afternoons Slender teaches cooking and LJ teaches baking, and Sunday afternoons is group therapy hosted by Slender. The only one that requires attendance is therapy, but generally, everyone tends to go to different events every week when they feel up to it, which is pretty often. They're all required to be back in their bedrooms between like 12-12:30, but they're free to do anything before that, and they can stay awake if they'd like to, Slender just tries to encourage healthy sleeping routines. The only exception to that is EJ since he's nocturnal, so he tends to have the mansion to himself overnight, which he doesn't mind because he likes the quiet. Anyone with an overnight mission will leave for their missions around the time everyone else goes to bed, and they tend to return in the early morning hours and try to quietly shower and go to bed so they can sleep as much as they need.

[crystallizedtwilight]

Nightmare Before Christmas AU Overview:

🎃🦇🍂

OVERVIEW: This AU follows the events of the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas. Taking place a few years in the future, it focuses on the adventures of Lock, Shock, and Barrel as young adults. The trio has since been welcomed into the town by Pumpkin King and Queen Jack and Sally, though they still live happily in their treehouse on the outskirts. They enjoy life under their own command, free from the now-deceased Oogie Boogie, causing mischief and pulling pranks on the good folk of Halloween Town. Throughout their continued adventures together they discover that growing means learning about themselves, each other, and dealing with change. But one thing remains constant—they'll always be birds of a feather, now and forever.

BACKSTORIES: The trio came to Halloween Town under unfortunate circumstances. Each of their families had lived in the human world, as many monsters do, either nomadically, elusively in the wilderness, or by masquerading. The trio were all born in different parts of the the world during the height of monster hunting. They were three fortunate cases who were found by other monsters and taken to Halloween Town as orphans.

Once in Halloween Town, the trio often ditched school, feeling they weren’t as accepted as the local kids, and deliberately caused trouble which earned them a bad reputation. The three bonded over a love of mischief and the feeling of being outcasts, so when Oogie offered them a life free of rules, they were easily convinced to leave the town entirely to become his henchmen.

Unbeknownst to them, the reason monster hunting took place during that time was because Oogie was rampantly devouring human children. Essentially, they were orphaned because their boss had given humans in several towns desperate cause to hunt the supernatural.

They would not come to learn this until after Boogie’s death. They grew up resenting humans for orphaning them and were horrified to learn that they'd worked for the monster who forced humans to defend themselves as well as let their parents take the fall. Nowadays, they choose to give the human world a chance by regularly traveling all over the world.

LOCK:

Lock is an imp, which is a type of devil. He has nocturnal vision, speed, and a natural desire to climb to very high places. He can often be found on the roof of the treehouse or up a tree when he needs to think. In the human world, imps are stealth hunters in deep forests, preying on deer and other local fauna. However, Lock has a diet of junk food and candy since he was raised without these hunting skills in Halloween Town.

Imps are naturally solitary creatures and dislike group settings, so no imp has ever come through Halloween Town. This, unfortunately, gave Lock a subconscious sense of loneliness and doubt. This is why he tries the hardest to keep the trio together by rejecting any change, which at one point resulted in a huge argument with Shock when she wanted to start attending coven studies a few days a week.

Of the three, Oogie’s abuse rooted itself mostly deeply within him, as Oogie played into the “who else would want you” angle Lock already felt as the only imp in town. He often overcompensates for his insecurities with arrogance and acts childishly, selfishly, and even meanly at times. However, under it all, he has a good heart and just wants to know that his friends aren’t going to leave him.

Lock and Shock are rivals who motivate each other, constantly bickering over which one of them is actually the leader of the trio. At the end of the day, they respect each other's skills and would do anything to keep their friend safe, but you'll never hear them say that.

Eventually, Lock begins a casual fwb relationship with Barrel, under the terms "as long as it doesn’t change anything”—worried that if they labeled themselves and it went sour, he could lose his friend. Barrel, who had always been in love with him, happily agreed to these terms. However, despite insisting that they were only friends, Lock finds himself extremely jealous when another ghoul, Belladonna, takes an interest in Barrel.

Lock is overwhelmed to realize that he actually does have feelings for Barrel but has likely missed his chance with him by insisting they weren't together, and Belladonna is probably better for him anyway. In an emotional confrontation where Lock accidentally scars Barrel’s arm with a bite, the two finally confess their true feelings.

SHOCK:

Shock is a witch, which is a type of magical entity. Of the three, she is the most confident and intelligent. Most witches will start coven studies at a young age to learn how to harness their magic, however, growing up under Oogie, she was discouraged from doing so. After Oogie’s demise Shock found herself determined to pursue her dreams of magic. Unlike how it had affected Lock, Oogie’s vicious words of “you’re not good enough” were only fuel to her fire, and she took all that anger and turned in into passion for her studies. 

She demanded that Halloween Town’s coven mentor her, even though she was older than the typical witch who was just starting her studies. The coven saw her passion and agreed. The studying has three phases: master flying, master potions, and master hexes, and one cannot be learned until the previous is mastered. The process takes years but Shock is currently deep in her potions phase and can often be found nose-deep in a book or foraging for herbs. Mastering hexes is her dream and she is eagerly chasing it.

One night, while out for a flight, Shock encounters a banshee crying in the moonlight. Shock learns that her name is Calliope and the human family’s line that she watched over had comes to an end. Shock instantly feels drawn to her and they quickly become friends. Shock secretly makes it her mission help Calliope feel happy again. Eventually, the two develop romantic feelings for each other as well.

BARREL:

Barrel is a ghoul, which is a type of demon that feasts on the flesh of cold, buried humans. Like Lock, Barrel was raised on junk food and candy in Halloween Town so that’s the diet he prefers today. Ghouls are naturally nomadic due to their diet, needing to find different graveyards to dig in to avoid being caught. However, many ghoul packs often breeze through Halloween Town for events, and are genuinely regarded fondly by the locals since they’re always polite and up for a fun time.

Of the three, Barrel is the most easygoing. He wants to hang out with his friends more than he wants to prank people, but is always up for fun nonetheless. He also keeps scorpions as pets. Regarding Oogie, Barrel walked away the least scathed because Shock and Lock intentionally took the brunt of his anger to protect him since he was the youngest. This left Barrel with a sense of guilt for not being strong enough to protect his friends back then. However he’s worked through that by deciding he would never let either of them be hurt again now that he could hold his own.

Barrel always had a crush on Lock since the moment he met him. The feeling was not mutual, and it wasn’t until Barrel kissed him much later in life that Lock even entertained the idea. Despite this, Barrel continues to love him timelessly and patiently, despite Lock still having a lot to work through and trouble recognizing his own feelings.

CALLIOPE:

Calliope is a banshee, which is a type of fairy that heralds death. She is sweet-natured and very new to the ways of Halloween Town, having grown up in the human world. She loves dogs since, like her, they also warn humans of danger. She has taken a liking to Zero in particular.

Calliope develops feelings for Shock who not only helped her feel at home in Halloween Town, but also helped her find her happiness when she never thought she'd smile again. Nowadays, Calliope is happier than ever before.

BELLADONNA:

Belladonna is a ghoul who lives in the human world with a pack of other ghouls. They masquerade as a human band/roadies, live nomadically, and actually put on some good concerts. Ghouls don’t kill or cause any harm to humans (they love their audiences!) but they do eat corpses by raiding graves at night. They breeze through Halloween Town once or twice a year for big events.

Belladonna is instantly attracted to Barrel when they meet at one of Halloween Town's formal parties. She is fun, good-natured, and helps Barrel learn about what his kind is up to in the human world.

JACK:

Jack still reigns as Pumpkin King, alongside Sally whom he recently wed. Regarding the trio, Jack feels guilt for overlooking them when they were children. Jack had a no-kill policy when it came to humans and Oogie Boogie did not—due to this conflict, Jack banished Oogie to the outskirts, and he is the reason the town has a guarded gate.

Jack was especially bitter about this rivalry, since he used to be friends with Oogie, and declared that Oogie would never be allowed into town again. Moreover, anyone associated with Oogie needed a by-name invitation from Jack himself before they’d be allowed into town. Even though the trio were just children at that time, Jack declared there would be no exceptions, and ignored the fact that the trio were actually in real danger with Oogie, which he found easy to overlook since they were so ill-behaved and rude to him.

At the end of the movie the trio have a change of heart and warn the townsfolk that Jack, Sally, and Sandy are trapped in Oogie's lair. Even though Jack was able to defeat Oogie before needing the town's assistance, this helped him see that the trio are actually good kids and he was wrong to ignore their circumstances for so long.

Nowadays, Jack tries very hard to make up for his mistake. He has declared that they are welcome inside the town, removed the gate, and regularly defends them when they prank the townsfolk (and Jack himself). Sometimes, Jack tries too hard, requiring their attendance at Town celebrations which the trio roll their eyes at. They regard Jack as a nerd, but know he is well-meaning. The mayor still dislikes them, but trusts Jack’s judgement.

SALLY:

Sally, now Pumpkin Queen, gets along quite well with the trio. Because she is so clever, she’s the only person in town they’ve never managed to prank, and she even managed to prank them once. Though Queen is her title, sewing is her passion and she happily has taken up the job as town seamstress, eagerly designing clothes for all the wonderful shapes that call Halloween Town home, trio included.

Shock actually enjoys Sally’s company and thinks of her like an older sister, even confiding in or asking her for advice at times. Lock is still a bit skeptical and cold with her since he is forever done with authority figures, though Sally finds him funny. Barrel likes Sally just fine, and really enjoys how soft and comfortable she makes all his clothes.

OTHER KIDS:

Growing up, the trio didn’t like the inner-town kids (Corpse Kid, Mummy Boy, and Winged Demon, as they’re referred to in the movie). The trio saw them as “goody-two-shoes” who grew up nice and cushy inside the town gate, happy to follow Jack’s ever order, and going home to loving families every night. However, the inner-town trio prove to not actually be so bad and take earnest steps to make the trio feel welcome in town after Oogie’s demise.

MISC FACTS: ▪️ The trio regularly utilize the towns tomb portals to travel all over the human world. They're particularly interested in celebrations or festivals that are similar to Halloween. They're technically not supposed to interact with human festivities so openly, as fear of the unknown gives monsters more mystery and therefore more fright factors on Halloween, but Sally knows they do so and keeps their secret: [1] [2] [3] [4]

▪️ They upgraded their treehouse to be more spacious: [1] [2] [3]

▪️ They gave each other piercings to signify them being friends forever

▪️ The three of them were brought to Halloween Town just days apart. They were then named as a unit after the merism. However, they did have other names before they arrived, though they no longer want to use them.

▪️ None of them know how old or when their birthdays are. They mark time in a very general sense by how many Halloweens it feels like they've had together.

▪️ This AU began as sketches in 2018 and I posted my first art of them publicly in 2020. I was inspired by the Photo Booth pin. I thought it would be fun if the trio took pictures in the more modern sense, capturing their shenanigans with selfies and documenting their mischief, which is why the first couple drawings are framed that way.

The second thing that inspired me was the screenshot of Oogie saying he’ll decide which of the trio to eat when they displease him, and the general theory that the masks in the treehouse are from previous victims whom he had eaten. I thought since Jack destroys Oogie at the end of the movie, maybe the trio gets the chance to grow up, hence an AU about their happy, older years.

ART TAGS:

🎃 Entire Nightmare Before Christmas Tag

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[victorbutnotreally]

YOU WHAT??? - OT8 x Male Reader

Four times Mn surprised the members with his ~mysterious past~

A/N: Inspired by me constantly getting told that I "randomly drop lore". My friends didn't know that I played the piano until one day I saw a piano at my friend's place (her dad is a piano teacher) and I decided to play a nocturne. Hope you enjoy!

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive, sometimes it may not make sense (but we're here to have fun), chan's room (rip), google translated french

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

One

"What is one thing you always carry around with you?"

That question was directed towards Mn. He snapped out of his trance of staring at Minho who was looking a little too pretty.

"Me? I always carry..." he pulls out a compass from his jean pocket. It was black and gold. "...this compass."

The members have seen a compass in Mn's pocket or in his bag while rummaging through it for snacks, but they didn't know he always had it.

"Why though?" was the question of a confused Jeongin.

"My neurophysiology professor gave it to me when I graduated. It means a lot to me since I didn't really receive a lot of gifts when I was younger. And he was such a good teacher."

The answer was met with gasps and widened eyes from the members. They didn't know their goofball of a member learned neuroscience. Hell, they didn't even know he went to university.

"WHAT?"

"PROFESSOR???"

"NEUROPHYSIOLOGY? THE FUCK??"

Two

Mn appeared as a special guest in Han's live. He was ranting about Achilles Come Down which was the song he recommended to be played on Chan's room last week. That's when he noticed a comment.

"Je vous aime tellement les gars ! Tu es honnêtement le meilleur et je ne peux pas te le dire assez"

He reads it out without a struggle and replies back in French.

"Merci beaucoup! Cela signifie beaucoup et j'espère que vous apprécierez également notre prochain album"

Han's eyes widened in surprise.

"Hold up, what?"

The comments started flooding in as well, completely thrown off by the sudden language change. No one knew he spoke French. They should've gotten used to the random lore dropping from Mn, though.

"OH MAH GAWDDDD"

"LORD HAVE MERCY THIS MAN CAN SPEAK FRENCH"

"i didn't know you spoke baguette!"

"just when i thought Mn couldn't get any hotter"

"get ready for the edits, y'all"

Jisung could only shake his head in disbelief.

Three

"Come on, hyung. I'm taking you back to the dorms and you're going to bed. Now."

"Just this one-"

"I slept more in university than you do now. And that's saying something, cuz I was busy!" He really was busy, with the neurology major, but that little smirk, the slight flush of his cheeks, and the bit of regret in saying that last statement was what made Chan raise a brow. There were a lot of times were Mn held his tongue when asked about ahem...experience.

"Yeah? What were you so busy with?"

"..My major, obviously. Now, get up."

Chan chuckled, getting up from his chair. "Nothing to smirk about in neurology, I'm sure."

"No one finds out about this, or I'll use my shooting skills on you."

"Your what now??"

Double lore drop. That's new.

Four

Mn was sitting with the rest of his members to react to his first solo song's MV. He wasn't exactly overjoyed by the idea, feeling awkward about seeing himself on screen. If it was a group MV, he could at least roast the others to get rid of the embarrassment of seeing whatever the directors told him to do on screen.

The screen fades in to a beautiful stage, an empty concert hall, occupied only by Mn who was painted with beautiful makeup and doing ballet. Gracefully, but the pain and insanity in his eyes is evident. Black Swan was the song.

"I...didn't know you did ballet."

Mn shrugged. His dance trainer knew, and honestly, he was glad the members found out this way. It was funny seeing their reactions.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Fluff ☼

Angst ►

Smut *

Hearts ☼

An intern pesters Spencer to get his attention and you help him get rid of it a bit, benefiting in the process

Hearts part 2 ☼

Morning coffees become the special moments between you and Spencer, but you also discover that he may have more competition for his love than you expected

Bolinus brandaris ☼

Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice

Exchanged clothes Bolinus brandaris part. 2 ☼

A small act of kindness leads to a rather peculiar confession

Memories ► (☼)

The case of the self-appointed Fisher King comes with too many sentimental implications and you discover that you and Spencer had more in common than you imagined.

Between your arms (wife!reader) ☼

After a hard day Spencer returns to his safe place

Decoy (+16)

When you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur

A (not so) little secret ☼

Even though you and Spencer have kept yours private pretty well, one night the universe seems determined to let everyone know

Dear Theodosia (Dad!Spencer) ☼

Spencer stays one afternoon to care for your three-month-old twins and reflects on how much he loves them

White lies ☼

You meet Spencer thanks to a nice coincidence and you become recurring chess partners, but he leaves out a small detail

Andy ►

You and Spencer have to learn to deal with grief without losing your marriage in the process

Devil's night ☼

Spencer is excited about his Halloween plans and you join him

Wearing pink (bimbo fem!reader) ☼

Your boyfriend introducing you to the squad!

Emergency room* (exes to lovers) (+18)

Spencer forgot to mention that you're still his emergency contact. You wouldn't have had a problem with it if you weren't his ex of over a year and the hospital took you out of the bed because he had a car crash

Nocturnal ballads ☼

Your boyfriend is too tense and you imagine that a little dance and music will make him feel better

New look ☼

Directly based on "The internet is forever" (5x22), when Reid's wonderful but short-lived boyband cut appears for the first time

Cigarettes (hurt/comfort)

Spencer comforts you after you learn some bad news about your relationship

Birthday wishes ☼

Everyone seems to forget Spencer's 30th birthday, but he only cares that you remember it

Wishes fulfilled (BW part 2) ☼

After an unfortunate event, Spencer questions what he really feels about his childhood best friend

Morning surprises ☼

When you find Reid lying under his desk your heart stops, but it turns out he was just taking a nap

Wheels up (hurt/comfort)

Spencer has just been released released from prison and things seem to get complicated when Mr. Scratch attacks again. You want to know what's going on with your boyfriend, but when you confront him, you don't expect him to yell at you like he does

Hogsmeade (Hogwarts!AU) ☼

The whole group pays a visit to Hogsmeade during the winter, where you and Spencer end up having a pretty interesting conversation

Lovely Christmas 🎄

The entire team gets together to celebrate Christmas and Spencer gives you a pleasant surprise

SPENCER'S FLUFFTOBER 🎀

[naoristerling]

Hueningkai fic rec

like the moon ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ huening kai | 8.4k @beom-pyu

you love the ocean more than anything else in this big, wide world. you treasure the crisp air and the salty, but comforting scent of the atmosphere, the way the rays of the sun would bounce off of the rushing waves and onto your skin fills your heart with an uncontained warmth, and the sunset reflected on the surface brings you a sense of serenity. you have loved the ocean since you were little—growing up on the coast, the sea was basically your backyard.

[duality.] ─── ⋆ h. kai | 10k @miupow

An unexpected discovery about a friend sends you spiraling-- sure, hueningkai was cute, but he wasn't your type. at least, you thought he wasn't.

to the mountains - huening kai | 5k @beomie3

your friend group decides to take a weekend getaway trip to the mountains, but it isn't until you stay in a cabin in the woods that your crush on one of them begins to make itself known. mutually :)

Berry Sorbet // Huening Kai | 9k @banggyu0308

in which you share one of the five senses with your soulmate, and the taste of your lipgloss is on Kai's tongue all week.

stupid cupid! ` . ᡣ𐭩 ་ જ⁀➴ |6.5k @jjunieworld

hueningkai, better known as cupid, is known for his art in helping people fall in love. shooting his arrows here and there, getting those who are meant to be together. what happens when after he shoots one of his love arrows at you, the other one somehow ends up hitting him?

policy of truth and lies | ☆ |3.3k @wave2tyun

a little white lie never hurts sometimes. to what lengths are you willing to go to protect it?

two best friends in a room ❀.* | 7k @beomgyuslilracha

if you had a thousand won for every time you heard the question "are you two dating?" or just the words "you two should just date already!", you and kai could probably afford to buy a house together.

in which two childhood best friends are the only ones in all of seoul who can't seem to see that they're obviously in love with each other.

Soulmates | 1k @yournameloveskpop

Hueningkai has a strange heart on his wrist. He doesn’t know how it got there but recently he’s been getting mood swings that were not his own, getting bruises for no reason etc. That’s when he meets Y/N who works at the cafe that txt walk into one day.

Geralmente não leio histórias tão pequenas mas essa foi tão fofinha <33

NAKED IN MANHATTAN | 4.6k @sook9i

⋆｡°✩ After a drunk conversation leads you to question your feelings for your bandmate and friend, Hueningkai, maybe a night together in Manhattan is just what you need to clear the air.

Series

Anyone Else But You, a six-part series @harmonicakai

It's starting to feel like you're the only person in the world that Huening Kai isn't best friends with, and you're determined to figure out why.

[nyrandrea]

hiii I’d like to request (again if that’s ok, it’s me the one who asked for the injured ) but if so then may I ask for this time so what if everyone’s at camp all asleep when a few people sneak in and kidnap reader but Astarion wakes up hearing something wasn’t right seein what’s going on watches as reader disappears then ofc hunting them down to see them being used in an ritual all tied up and weak dndeueududid ( sorry it’s like 1:18am I’m laid awake thinking about random things 💀 )

Helloooo again! I enjoyed your last request and certainly had fun with this one too so thanks again! (1:18am is the best time for random thoughts :D )

Warnings for canon typical violence, kidnapping, rituals (kinda), blood and swears

Word Count - 2.9k

Enjoy!

xxx

Under the silvery embrace of the crescent moon, nestled within the heart of a tranquil forest, you and your companions had surrendered to the gentle clutches of slumber, a collective of soft snoring weaving its way through the rustling leaves and whispering trees. 

A clearing in the woods served as your base for the night after a long, grueling day of travelling. The grass beneath you was like a plush carpet, and a delicate blanket of dew kissed the blades, glistening like diamonds. The air was crisp, yet tender, cradling you in its nocturnal embrace. 

Your team had all gathered in a sort of semi-circle, heads pillowed upon hands or nestled into makeshift cushions fashioned from backpacks and rolled-up cloaks. You weren’t sure how or when, but throughout your sleep you had unconsciously rolled over and inched yourself closer to where Astarion lay, his delicious scent drawing you in. 

One could observe the group and note the serene expressions etched upon their faces. They appeared as though they were sculpted by dreams, their features softened by the embrace of rest. Your eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as you chased the remnants of recent adventures.  

Unfortunately for you, you were being observed. 

You flinched as the corner of your vision registered a goblin kneeling beside you, the tip of his dagger against your throat before you could even scramble for your own weapon. 

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he purrs, smiling smugly down at you. “Not if you want your friends to keep their innards intact.” 

Your eyes widen and dart over to where the rest of the group lay, completely oblivious to the goblins that threatened their very lives. You were even surprised to see Astarion still in a deep trance of meditation; he was usually so much more alert at night. 

“What do you want?” you whisper. 

“For you to come with us, true soul,” the goblin answered. “We are in desperate need of your... assistance.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Just what I need, more Absolute nutjobs.’ 

“Look, I don’t think I can help you.” 

“Oh, but you are the only one who can,” he retorts, slowly pulling the knife away from your throat. “It’s our leader, you see. She is gravely ill and only a true soul like yourself can cure her.” 

Your face scrunches up in disbelief. “If she’s ill, then it’s a healer you need, not me.” 

The goblin frowns. “It’s you she needs, she said so herself.” His blade edges closer to you once again, signaling for you to get up. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to come with us. Or am I going to have to resort to a bit of… persuasion?” 

He exchanges a glance with one of his men, who seemed all too giddy to slash Astarion’s neck. 

“No…!” You almost shout but restrain yourself so as to not alert the others and incur a massacre. “I-I’ll come with you, just... leave them be.” 

The goblin grinned up at you, and you had to force down the bile that was rising in your throat. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he crooned, gesturing for you to follow.  

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze darting between your weapon and the goblin, his eyes are trained on you, almost as if he was daring you to try. Ultimately, you were outnumbered, and they held the element of surprise over your companions. No matter which way you tried to cut it, there were going to be casualties if you didn’t do what you were told. 

So, you begrudgingly allowed yourself to be led into whatever hellish fate this cult of the Absolute had in store for you. A plan of escape would have to come later, when you were far enough away from your friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, one of them was already on your trail. 

xxx 

Amidst the shroud of night, when the moon hid its luminous face behind a thick blanket of heavy clouds, you and your merry little band of kidnappers ventured into a meadow cloaked in long, swaying grass. The air had an eerie stillness about it, broken only by the distant whispers of nocturnal creatures. 

As you traversed the meadow, moving with cautious steps, your feet sinking into the cool earth with each stride, you silently weighed up your options. The grass was like a sea of shadows, their whispers brushing against your legs like ghostly fingers; it would be so easy just to blend in and disappear. 

You would have considered it, if it were not for the worgs. 

The air was imbued with the scent of dew-drenched grass, but those beasts would still be able to track you down within seconds. Only... there were most certainly four of them the last time you checked. But looking around now, you only noticed two. 

It appeared the goblins had noticed too; their hushed conversations were like faint echoes in the vast expanse, mixing with the symphony of crickets and the occasional haunting call of a night owl. You couldn’t make out a damn word they were saying, but they looked nervous. 

“It would seem that we have a stalker in our midst,” the leader of the group growled, holding up a hand for everyone to come to a halt before he grabbed your wrist, forcing you down to his level. “Sod it, change of plan. You’re with me,” he commanded one of his men before turning to the rest. “You lot deal with the bastard while we take our friend here back to base.” 

“Hey!” You grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench yourself free. “Let go!” 

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he simultaneously released his grip and struck the back of your head with a blunt weapon, rendering you unconscious just as the ambusher seized the opportune moment. With lightning speed and calculated precision, he pounced from the grass, launching himself like a shadowy wraith. Long grass bent and swirled in his wake, mimicking the dance of phantoms. 

In that fleeting moment, you caught the glint of a blade unsheathed, reflecting a cold, silver streak in the night. Chaos ensued, and the long grass became a battleground, hiding the combatants in its tangled embrace.  

The clash of steel rang through the night, intermingling with the desperate cries of your name as you slipped away into darkness. 

The ambusher moved with ruthless determination; his scarlet eyes ablaze with a wild, unholy fervor. In the end, silence fell upon the meadow, broken only by the ragged breaths of the victorious, standing amidst the long grass, a solitary figure bathed in the haunting glow of the moon, his cloak billowing like a specter as he followed the trail of broken grass the other goblins had made as they carried your prone form away. 

 xxx 

The first thing you could feel was a pounding in your head. You try to sit up, to pull your knees up so you can curl up and settle the turning in your stomach. Slowly, your eyes opened as your breath sped up. 

You were lying on the dirty floor in the middle of some sort of temple, hardly able to move due to your wrists and ankles being bound by chains. You struggle to draw in shallow gasps as you blinked through the blurriness of tears that clung to your eyelashes. 

“What?” you whisper to yourself, wiggling to try and find an opening in the chains, trying not to hyperventilate as the bindings dug painfully into your skin the more you tried to move. 

You bite your lip as your mind races with ideas to escape, to get away from this place, to kill these people for having the audacity to kidnap you, to threaten your friends. 

Different scenarios play out repeatedly in your head, but the reality was that you were powerless to do anything. 

“Comfortable, are we?” 

A goblin slinked her way over to you from the shadows, she was unlike the crude and menacing stereotypes that often plagued her kind. She possessed an eerie, captivating beauty and moved with an uncanny grace; as sinuous as a serpent. Her skin, the color of moss, bore intricate tattoos that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.  

Your skin tingled, hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as the goblin prowled behind your back to watch over your shoulder, her warm breath brushing behind your ear.  

“I do hope so - it is truly an unimaginable honor to have a true soul like yourself amongst us, especially one with such... soft, tender flesh.” 

A soft whimper pressed from your throat as warm hands slithered over your shoulders, kneading gently into tensed muscles. It sent a shudder down your spine, pressing your entire body in on itself.  

“No need to be so coy, dear,” she said. “We’ll be getting to know one another, after all. For what is to come.” 

Your lips pressed tight together as you swallowed down a knot in your throat, but your chin was forced up so that your eyes locked with hers. The symbol of the Absolute flashed on her face like a dazzling light, but no matter how much the tadpole wriggled and pulsed inside your head, nothing was happening. 

You held no authority here. 

“Those little mind tricks won’t work with me,” she sneered, pointing a clawed finger to her temple. “For I too, am a true soul. In fact, I am the one and only true soul!” 

“W-w-what do you mea-?” 

You were silenced with a hard slap. 

“You may not speak in my presence, worm,” the goblin growled. “Speaking of, I’ve got so many of the little buggers up there, I may as well be as powerful as the Absolute themselves!” She barked a laugh and grinned maniacally down at you. “And your parasite will make a fine addition to my collection.” 

‘Gods, this bitch is fucking crazy,’ you thought, but your mind immediately seized up and burned as she pried her way into it, and she was not too happy with your choice of words. 

“You haven’t even seen crazy yet,” she growled as she traced a claw down the side of your face, drawing a thin line of blood. “I think I’ll pry your worm out myself with my bare hands and make you watch as I consume it before we gut you and roast you on the spit with the rest of the pigs.” 

Strong hands took hold of your arms and legs and dragged you onto a slab of stone that had markings etched along the edges. You could just make out they were in Infernal—akin to the ones on Astarion’s back—but like his, you couldn’t decipher their meaning.  

You kicked, flailed and screamed in desperation, but you were soon silenced by the goblin as she wrapped her hands around your throat while the others formed a circle around you and started muttering some sort of ritualistic prayer. 

Your senses were dulling further by the second and a part of you wanted to give in to the pain, to just let yourself black out and fade away, but something within you pulsated with the will to live. To fight to your very last breath. Was this the parasite’s doing? Or was it something else? 

“Just give in to the Absolute, dear, "the goblin said, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You’ll be all the better for it.” 

“F...f...” 

“Aw, your last, dying words,” she purrs, leaning in closer to listen. “I will permit it.” 

“...Fuck you,” you spat. 

The goblin’s smug expression warps into one of pure fury, and she bares her teeth at you as she grabs a hold of your face with one hand, using the other to slowly inch her claws towards your left eye. Her hiss garbles into a shrill wheeze as a dagger is plunged into her back and through her chest several times, relentlessly. A stray drop of blood trails down her mouth as she screams silently before she is rolled away from you, her body plopping onto the ground with an unceremonious thump. 

You try to catch your breath, thanking whatever Gods were out there that they decided to spare you today. 

“Don’t thank them, darling, thank me,” a familiar voice teased, though his shaking voice betrayed his light tone. “They would have done bugger all, anyway.” 

A tiny, joyful laugh escapes from your raw throat as your eyes fall onto the welcome sight of Astarion, who seems just as relieved to see you.  

“Are you alright?” he asks, quickly approaching with what appeared to be a pair of bolt cutters. 

You nodded desperately, holding out your wrists. 

Astarion took a moment to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through the skin but snapped them together fairly easily. 

You shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from your eyes as you rubbed at your wrists. Astarion didn’t wait for further instructions, you needed to move. 

He knelt by your feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against his thigh. It bruised and dug into the flesh of his leg, but he didn’t stop. 

The metal didn’t relent, but neither would he. 

“Astarion-”  

“Just... hold on, darling!” he says, pausing only briefly to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m no Lae’zel or Karlach; strength isn’t exactly my forte but I’ve... almost got it...!” 

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, Astarion pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to his back crackle at the strain. He shifted, readjusting – maybe one half of the link would be enough? It was dented – that was a good sign. 

You rested both hands on Astarion’s shoulders, steadying you both as he groaned under the effort. He jerked the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth. 

With one final effort, the metal finally crunched, and you were free. 

Astarion’s arms encircled you with a strength that made you feel safe and cherished, while you nestled your head against his chest. 

“You... how did you...?” 

“I knew from the moment they took you,” Astarion said, smoothing down your arms, the motion was slow and helped calm you down a little. “I was, let’s say, aware of their presence in camp. But like you, I wanted to avoid a messy fight and so I tracked you down myself and... thank the gods I did.” 

“Guess they helped out a little, after all,” you weakly joked. 

“Oh shush,” he softly retorted. “It was fairly easy, what with that awful stench those creatures' reek of.” 

“So, it was you... in the meadow.” 

“It was,” he smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I almost had you, if only I’d been quicker, or less sloppy, you wouldn’t have...” 

His eyes, pools of worry and tenderness, never left your face. He reached out with a hand that trembled, his fingers brushing away strands of your disheveled hair. His touch was feather-light, as if he feared causing you any more discomfort. 

With a voice softer than a whisper, he asked, “Did… did they…?” The words carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. 

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m okay.” 

He nodded, his lips curling into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch. Gently, he began to inspect your injuries. His fingers traced the contours of your throat, seeking out any sign of any permanent damage. With each touch, he was meticulous, ensuring that he didn’t aggravate the forming bruise. 

"Does it hurt much?" he inquires softly, his expression unreadable, almost dazed. 

You wince slightly but shake your head. "It's bearable.” 

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so, so strong, my dear," he whispers, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul. 

 His soft gaze hardens as he glares down at the goblins' bodies that littered the room. “Death is too good for them. I’m almost tempted to have them revived so I can make them suffer just a little longer.” 

“How did you even manage to kill so many?” you ask, you knew he was a dab hand at killing but even he couldn’t take on a whole horde by himself. 

“They were all so engrossed in their little ritual, they didn’t even see me coming,” Astarion said with a shrug. “That’s what you get for blind faith, I suppose.” 

You wanted to laugh, but your throat hurt too much. 

“Come on, darling,” Astarion gently looped your arm around his shoulder and guided you, going as slow as your aching legs would allow. “Let’s get you home.” 

Your eyes met his in a gaze that transcended words, a silent conversation of empathy and understanding. In that moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the contours of your bodies, and the only reality was the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of each other's presence, and the unspoken promise that he would never allow this to happen to you again. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₛwₐₙ ₗₐₖₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ꜱʜᴀᴘᴇꜱʜɪꜰᴛᴇʀ! (ᴛᴀᴠ?) ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Cursed reader, nosy Astarion, slightly jealous Astarion, nudity, shapeshifting.

A/N: I had finally come up with something to write about for my beloved vampire boyfriend. I really like swans and swan lake. I might write a version of this but with Halsin.

Masterlist

Every full moon you'd vanish into the woods, no one in the party knew why you did. They didn't want to be nosy and pry in your business. Except for Astarion, he wanted to know why you'd go away into the woods every full moon. He thought about what you could possibly be doing the woods, were you doing some kind of magic spell? Where you mediating. Or were you secretly a werewolf? That was impossible, he'd smell it on you. Or... What if you were seen someone?!

That had him thinking, a lot. What you and him had meant nothing to you? Who was this person you were seen?! Gale? Wyll? ShadowHeart? Karlach? lae'zel?!.. No, maybe it was Halsin, Astarion saw how you and the giant druid got along as if you were close, perhaps to close. This curiosity was eating him up, he couldn't sleep properly just thinking that you and Halsin are sneaking around. Specially if you didn't let him join along. He was going to find out what it was that you were hiding.

That night was just another night, a full moon. Most of the party members had gone to sleep, except for you. Once you saw that everyone was deep in slumber, you sneaked into the woods as quick as you could. Astarion had been faking to be sleeping, he waited a couple minutes for you to go, then he got up from his bedroll. Expecting how everyone was sleeping, even Halsin was in his small tent he made out of leaves and twigs, interesting. Afterwards, he went into the woods to find you.

As he walked into the dark woods, he was silent as possible, following your scent. All he could hear was the sound of the forest. The wind hitting the tree leaves together, crickets playing their small chirps, and along other nocturnal animals. He followed your scent into a lake? He hid behind a giant tree and peaked out to see if he could spot you. He didn't see you, but he saw your clothes neatly folded together on the mossy floor. Were you bathing?! Why didn't you invite him?! He felt hurt in some kind of water.

Then he saw a swan, a swan? The swan was flapping its feathers and dipping its body upside down. That's odd, he normally sees swans together in small groups. Were their other swans around? Besides, swans don't really go out at night. But for some reason, the more he looked at the graceful feathered being, he smelt your scent. Did you own a swan? Did you befriend the creature and didn't tell him? Was that the reason you'd sneak out of the camp to hang out with your little feathered friend? He couldn't stop thinking.

A couple hours passed, yet no sight of you. He only watched a swan swim around the lake, drinking water and doing flips. But that didn't really matter to him, where were you?! He had not seen you this last couple hours, he was wasting his time watching a swam dancing in the lake. Finally, the swan walked out of the water, ruffling its feathers dry and kicking its little feet. It approached towards your clothes. This made Astarion even more curious to see what the swan will do? Will it steal your clothes? Will you be walking around naked in the camp? He would not mind that not one bit, except if it was only the two of you.

Then he watched how a soft white liquid began to wrap itself around the feathered body. Astarion watched in awe, seen what was happening. The liquid had morphed into a little bubble, then it extended itself, the bubble then bursts open. Revealing that it was you. This made his jaw drop, you were the swan that he had been watching for hours swimming. So this was your little secret? He couldn't help but let out a small, cheeky like grin.

Now, that you were back to your original form. Astarion made himself presence. "So, this is where you've been going now, darling?" he asked with a smirk, making you jump and hide youself with your clothes. "Astarion!? What are you doing here?!" you asked him, breathing a bit fast. "Why, I wanted to see why my precious treasure was sneaking off into the woods on a full moon, and here I thought you were a werewolf." He admitted, with a grin still panted on his lips. "Oh come on, as if I haven't seen what's under those clothes before." He teased, making your face turn hot.

"Why am I not surprised, you've seemed like the nosy time." You jabbed at him, putting your clothes back on. "Oh! I wouldn't say nosy, I'd say, I was just curious where my love was going!" He said to you. "Like they say, curiosity killed the cat." You mumbled as you finished lacing your boots up. "So love, why didn't you tell me about this? Are you a druid as well? Or a shapeshifter?" he asked you, he really wanted to know why you could turn into a swam.

"No... I'm actually cursed.." you admitted, there was no hiding this, he'd just go on and on until you'd tell him. "Cursed? Who on earth would curse you?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips, paying you attention. You only sighed. "Many years ago, I refused the marriage of this sorcerer, so as a 'punishment' he cursed me into turning into a swam every full moon." You explained. Astarion could only nod in response, listening to you on why you had this curse. He somewhat knew what he it was like to have a curse on him. "Hm, are you able to break this curse?" he asked, raising his brow.

You nodded. "Yeah, it can be broken, Only true love from a man who has never promised his heart to another." I repeated what the sorcerer told me many years ago. "Oh! Would that man be me?" he asked you, with a little smirk. "Maybe." You only responded, teasingly and flirtatiously then began to head back to the camp sight with Astarion. "I have a question, if you were to get pregnant would you lay eggs and make a nest for those our children? Will they also turn into swans too? I can just imagine them as little ducklings. All small and cute with gray feathers." He said, as you both walked back to the camp. You couldn't help but slightly giggle by his goofiness. "I just imagine you carrying all our children on your back in a lake, how cute would that be?!" He added lastly.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I'm not sure if you've answered a question like this before but do you think Sebek would feel less insecure about his human-fae heritage if he became acquainted (or even friends) with someone similar at NRC? Or would he just end up projecting his own struggles onto them?

It'd be a different story if he grew up with one in Briar Valley, but I'm not caught up on the lore enough to know how common mixed fae-humans are there 😅

I don’t think it would make a significant difference.

Firstly, the impression I get is that mixed fae-humans are rare, since fae are unlikely to mingle outside of their kind (pixies and Briar Valley fae behave similarly and are suspicious of non-fae; only the Dwarves seem to be friendly with humans). The chances of Sebek being even finding someone of his kind are low. Recall too that nocturnal fae (which Sebek is descended from) have beef with diurnal fae, so even if Sebek were to run into a mixed fae like him, he might still clash with them on the basis of that difference in background.

Another point I’d like to make is that one person for like a year or so may not be “enough” to totally change Sebek’s mind. Think about it. The way you’re describing it, Sebek has still grown up in Briar Valley his entire life and comes to NRC still carrying the attitudes he grew up with and the experiences of being looked down on by full fae. One encounter at school won’t be sufficient to counteract what is basically a lifetime’s worth of isolation and self-loathing. That just isn’t how character growth works; it’s a steady thing that you have to actively work toward.

As an example, Epel does not instantly shake off his views on traditional gender roles in book 5 just because he met Vil and lived under his dorm. Exposure alone isn’t “enough”. Epel has to be challenged and shown the error of his ways, as well as actually gain a respect for Vil’s perspective and then learn to overcome his own prejudices. A similar thing happens in book 7 when Sebek is confronted by the bigotry of his grandfather, which reflects his own attitudes towards his human peers. Again, he is being challenged and forced to face these unsavory aspects of himself and sees how that shows in others. It’s a process far more complex than simply meeting and/or befriending someone like you and realizing on your own, “oh hey, maybe I was wrong”. Sebek has to put in the work to change.

Looking at Sebek’s current circle also doesn’t yield any… hopeful results? He looks up to Lilia so much yet also puts up resistance and ignores advice from him to be more kind to non-fae. Note also that Sebek, despite being friends with Silver (a full-blooded human), he still holds a bad opinion of humans in general. It didn’t make him magically not racist or more understanding of humans when so much of his socialization fell outside of that purview. If anything, Sebek just acts like Silver is “one of the good ones” rather than his friendship with Silver making him more accepting of other humans.

Finally, I don’t think just the presence or the befriending of another person like him would change Sebek by itself. It would depends a lot on what type of person that other guy is. Who knows, maybe they’re just as bigoted and agree with his thoughts. It could also result in a scenario where Sebek feels comfortable staying in his own little echo chamber and refuses to venture beyond that. In another case, Sebek could very easily warp his views to confirm the narrative that already exists in his head. He could very easily tell himself “yes, this person is fine because they, too, have fae blood in them”. (Think of how many bigots use the “but I have a [insert marginalized group here] friend so I can’t be [X]ist!” excuse to justify their own terrible stances.) There are many ways this could go wrong or perpetuate what he already believes in. Confirmation bias is a thing!

[mochinomnoms]

hyenas are mainly nocturnal animals from what iv seen and i think ruggie has more than enough work on his plate to work through the night and not even realize it until he hears birds start to chirp from outside

basically insomniac ruggie

- 🐝

There's a small group of beastmen, fae, and one or two of the very few merfolks on campus that will meet up at night to get work done and gossip. They're the ones that had a linage prone to insomnia due to having nocturnal predecessors.

Leona, despite lions bordering on nocturnal, does not show up, but Ruggie does with his hyena genes; Azul, Jade, and Floyd as an octopus and eels respectively; Lilia manages to drag Sebek to the meet ups in an attempt to socialize him a bit more, as they both take after bats and crocodiles, respectively. Malleus, as we know, wasn't invited and is off doing his own thing at Ramshackle. No worries though, there's a fox, mouse, and two Siamese cats beastmen there too, along with an axolotl and an angler-fish merfolk.

No one knows if the angler-fish is actually nocturnal, Azul and the twins won't elaborate, but they think she just likes the darkness and being able to have friends with her.

Every so often there's a handful of fae that will show up, awake because their body naturally aligns with a fae holiday of some sort that only occurs at night. It's a treat because they bring faeire food for the group when they do, and you can only eat the food when invited to do so.

It's all a good time and Sam will often supervise so it's a school sanctioned activity. They vibin, in the middle of the night, as is the natural habitat of the college student.

[salt-clangen]

Moon 5 bonus scene

Greenleaf

It was dark, the stars out and shining in the bright moonlight. Wolfstar was out on patrol, trying to catch something in the twilight for her clan. The last few day patrols had been unsuccessful and Snowspeckle was nest bound from her pregnancy. Night patrols were risky, nocturnal predators were active and stealth attacks were harder to evade, but her clan mate’s growling stomachs pushed her to take the chance.

The sand felt warm under her paws, still holding heat from the sunny day, as she poked around the large rocks that separated the sand from the shrubby grass. Hopefully she could find an unsuspecting bird’s nest for a quick kill, but so far she hadn’t found anything. In the distance she could hear the crickets chirping and the ever present roar of the waves, the wind blowing in harsh intervals, carrying her scent upwind.

That’s why she was found so easily and why she didn’t notice the figure approaching.

“Wolfpaw!” A familiar voice called out.

Wolfstar whirled around, her back towards the waves, to confront the intruder.

“This is Saltclan territory, clear out!” She hissed, freezing as the cat came into view. “Burnpaw?”

“Wolfpaw, please I’m here as a cleric.” Burnpaw called down, standing on the edge of the boulders.

“It’s Wolfstar now state your business,” Wolfstar let a growl enter her voice. “Or I’ll be forced to escort across the border.”

“Please, can we talk?” He nodded his head towards the rock, she scoffed she wasn’t gonna jump up there if there was a trap. Her mother would use her old friend as bait. The cleric apprentice sighed. “I wanted to see you, it’s been half a moon since the gathering.”

“Shouldn’t you be at the Moon spring?”

“I was, Darkfold is still there, Greyclaw is her escort. They’re covering for me.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” She warned again. “What happens if you get caught? I’ll be blamed and Saltclan will be labeled a fringe group.”

“I had to tell you, I got a vision from Starclan. They showed me the silhouette of a wolf running in a shadowy place, a light shining behind it. Then a red collar appeared around its neck and it fell away into the dark.” He inched closer to the edge, his face tense.

“I see,” Wolfstar paused, unsure what to say. She’d been steeling her nerves for the past moon for any confrontations with her former clan, but Burnpaw had blindsided her. “What do you think it means?” The worry melted off his face now.

“I think you should come back.” He said, she flinched at that.

“What! I was sent here by Starclan, they told me to take Lynxpaw and form the clan. How could you say this?” She hissed, hackles raised.

“I’m worried, the vision was clearly about you. I- I think my vision means you’re gonna…”

“I’m gonna what?” She spat. “That I’m gonna die? That I’ll fail?” Now he flinched, backing away from the edge.

“I don’t know, but I wanted to warn you before I tell Jaggedstar. I think she’ll let you come back if you came with me now sh—“

“And you think I want to go back? What about Lynxpaw? You think she’ll be welcomed back?!” She cut him off. “And what about my clan? I’m a leader now I have to protect them!”

“What clan? It’s just you and Lynxpaw.” He scoffed.

“There’s more to Saltclan than just me and Lynxpaw.” She was grateful it was too dark to see her flush, he didn’t kneed to know Snowspeckle was the only other cat. “You’re the one who told me about Jaggedstar’s plan! Now you’re telling me to return?”

“Please, Wolfpaw listen—“

“Enough!” She roared, scaling the boulder in one leap, paws skimming over the rough rock. “You don’t believe I’m a -star, you don’t believe I can lead.”

She was nose to nose with him now, he recoiled.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s time to go, now. Tell your leader whatever you want, I know I’m guided by my ancestors.” She pushed forward, knocking Burnpaw back a little. He skittered several lengths away, tail tucked and eyes wide.

“Wolf…” He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure what to call her. His face was stiff, the burn on his left side was pulled tight.

“Don’t bother.” She snapped her teeth tat him, in the back of her mind she wondered if it was obvious she was mimicking her mother. A weak imitation, but the only way she knew to intimidate.

She ushered him to the border in silence, a scowl on her face, Burnpaw glanced at her once before leaving.

Wolfstar- a white tabby molly with short fur, heather blue eyes, and a notch in her right ear. 11 moons. Leaders. Saltclan. Nervous → Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition.

Burnpaw- a dark red tabby tom with a large burn scar on the left side of his face, a shredded ear, and yellow eyes. 12 moons. Cleric apprentice. Duskclan. Insecure. Nervous. Restless sleeper.

[dariaslookalike]

Needing Miller pt 2.

Summary: It's a shit hole of a world that you're living in, and it gets even shittier when you're ambushed in your sleep. It's a slippery slope that leads you from being tucked cozily in your sleeping bag to joining the raiding group lead by the most infuriating (and intimidating) man you've ever met. You need to survive, above all else- either in this group (without smacking its leader over the head), or in the world alone after somehow escaping. Easier said than done, when your mind loses all sense of focus, tactics and skills the second that Joel Miller rolls up his sleeves and shows his godforsaken forearms.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: thought i should note while this is joel as a raider it is *not* dark joel- he is not going to be anything dubious to our protagonist- at the end of the day that is my sweet husband joel miller, not someone who is going to swing on a woman in the name of romance.

also more often than not i'll be updating this first on AO3 because i am like bugging out about tumblr formatting [desperately trying to make a masterlist]

Next Chapter: Pt 3

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You don’t sleep for long. It’s hard to. The pain that’s shooting from your cheek and the tension held in your body means that after a few pitiful hours, you jolt awake. The only thing you can be thankful for is that you’re so exhausted, no dreams visit you.

Night has completely fallen onto the mall now, and everything is cast in harsh shadows from the fire still burning off to the side. Soft hues of orange and yellow light up the pale floor, and the shadows are darker, deeper, than if they were made just by the moonlight above.

You force your breathing to still even as the memories of the day flood back in. Where you were. What happened to you.

You twist in your sleeping bag, and Ryan glances down at you, still sitting on the edge of the fountain. You stare at him for a second before you clear your throat. You sit up, the material around you swishing.

“Thanks for staying. And stitching me up.”

“It’s fine.” Ryan nods. “Only a few hours- I can stay longer if you want to go back to sleep.”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

His eyes flick to yours, but he doesn’t question you. He just nods again, and pushes to his feet, and begins walking over to sit by the fire.

You nod to yourself. He was good at stitching you up. To stay true to his word and watch over you. But the both of you clearly aren’t interested in being friends. He knows you’re only here because Joel let you be here. You know he was only tending to you because Joel made him. An odd, forced arrangement that you weren’t going to push any further. Right now you wanted to focus on staying alive in this group, not making friendship bracelets.

You settle against the fountain, still sitting in your sleeping bag. You can see everyone from here. While it’s later than before, only one person remains sleeping, and the rest circle around the fire. A nocturnal bunch. It makes sense. Sure, the light of day gives you the benefit of sight, but now, when the moon’s high up and everything is washed in darkness, it gives them coverage, security.

Your hand reaches up, and edges across the thick gauze pad taped to your face. It’s wet on the outside, and you know you’ll have to change the dressing soon if you’re able to. Your cheek is blooming with heat. You remembered it when you grazed your knee as a kid. Warm throbbing pain that was your body’s way of trying to kill any infection. Right now it feels like your body is trying to melt away your face. The skin beneath feels sharply prodded and stretched by the stitches, but you tell yourself that’s good. Better to feel that pain and hurt and heat than be the one with their head blown off.

Your hand drops from your face.

Terry. That was his name. Carving your own knife into your face. His head splattered across the floor. Your shoe crunching into his ribs with a kick.

You don’t know his dead friend's name and you won’t ask for it either. But in your mind, you still see the drop of his body to the floor, the slow, self-assured lowering of Joel’s gun as he tucks it back into his waistband. Two bullets. Two men. You’re only making up for one of them, and you wonder if he thinks you’re even more indebted to him now.

You clench your jaw. No. Joel was going to let you go- your hand wasn’t forced in joining this raiding group. You weren’t repaying a debt. You were trying to save your hide from raiders who wouldn’t just cut you, but carve you up and play with the pieces.

But Joel did you a favour. Spilled the blood of two of his men as a result of you. Took you in when he could have shot you for your limited supplies or left you to become septic.

And…you didn’t have any place better to be. You had run from the QZ; from the loss. The despair. The control. Everything that had happened, you had to get away from it. Head East. That was all you were doing.

It was a crack pipe dream thinking that you’d just keep heading East. Reach the coast. Swim abroad against the current and the tides and the waves and find a place on a continent you had never visited.

But something in your gut knew you were never going to make it to the coast; knew you weren’t truly following that day dream. Knew that you were going to get bit. Or caught. Or hell, step wrong, twist your ankle, and starve to death because you couldn’t walk the rest of the way.

You could make this work. Like Joel said, you’d do what he tells you to and you’d live. That was all you needed to do right now. Live.

You nod to yourself and get acutely aware that you aren’t alone anymore; that you couldn’t mutter to yourself without someone hearing now or hum under your breath if you got bored. You focus, and let your eyes trail to the campside. There’s two more people in the group than you counted before.

You focus on their forms. You see Ryan; the dirty blonde of his hair, your blood on the cuff of his jacket. He bumps his shoulder into the man sitting beside him, and they laugh about something you don’t hear. You don’t know the name of anyone else but spend time taking in their faces; rooting it to memory. All men. You’re not sure what that means for the group. Did they think they had no use for women outside of abuse and simply discarded them before you had shown up? Or were they just close knit, unwilling to let anyone into their protective circle? Neither option filled you with confidence.

Your gaze catches on Joel. He’s here now; you wonder where he walked off to, though you know you’re not entitled to ask. He’s facing the fire, and you’re able to take in his side profile. The sharp slope of his nose. The intense heaviness of his brow. The tightness to his lips, his jaw, his temple; as if even here, sitting at a fire with the group he commanded around him, he wasn’t at ease.

Your eyes sweep up and down him. He’s got a heavy, tanned jacket on, even that close to the flames. A pair of dirtied jeans. They hug his legs, and you think about him, wrapping himself around you just to stop your rabid attack. The thought swirls in your stomach, and becomes a flurry when you take in the slouch of his shoulders, the firelight catching on his hands that are clutched together in front of him.

He was handsome, and you feel nausea rise at the thought. When was anyone ever handsome to you? He was older than you, more brutal than you, more experienced than you. He should revolt and disgust you. Your logical reasoning does absolutely nothing to convince the pounding in your bloodstream to calm. You swallow. You have to forcibly drag your gaze away from him, force yourself to settle onto the new figure beside him.

But the man beside him is grinning, and already staring at you. You flush, realising you’ve been caught looking at Joel for what felt like hours. The man ducks his head closer to Joel, chuckling and saying something too quiet for you to hear. Joel doesn’t laugh, and instead his head spins, and he looks directly at you.

You sink further into your sleeping bag, and instantly look away, training your eyes onto the entrance of the mall, the slope of the walls, anything but him.

You flick your eyes back momentarily, wanting confirmation that you weren’t still being eyed. Instead, you catch the man beside Joel patting his shoulder and pushing himself to his feet. You stare at him, and shake your head slightly; praying to yourself that this wasn’t happening.

The man smiles, and he leaves the fireside, walking over to you. Joel’s staring at him, that notch in his brow again, before he scoffs and faces the fire again. You force yourself to look at this man, take him in; don’t cower or slink back; face him head on.

He’s got dark, black hair that’s curling below his ears, and the same carved nose of Joel. He’s wearing some kind of flannel and jeans, and he brushes his hands off on them as he comes closer, and sits down beside you.

You back yourself up, sliding against the fountain edge to put some distance between you but you still keep your eyes trained on him. Distance, not retreat. The man notices, but he simply smiles and sticks out his hand. You don’t shake it, and he laughs, withdrawing.

“I’m Tommy. Joel’s brother.”

You nod, and whisper your name back to him. His lips curl into a smirk. He’s got the same confidence as Joel. But Joel was domineering, commanding, authoritative. Tommy just came across as cocky. He taps his own cheek, eyebrows raised. You’re reminded of how Joel did the same thing, warning you that you’d bleed out if you left.

“What happened there?”

“Take a guess.” You bite.

He shrugs, unfazed by the harsh tone of your voice and huffs out a breath. “I was the one who cleaned out Terry.”

You feel anger burn white hot in your chest at the thought of him. His entitlement to you, his assault to your face. You swallow the anger down, aware that you were still being watched. You think of the body dragged out only metres away from you. You weren’t aware that Joel had directed the same to be done with Terry. It makes sense. You don’t want to attract rats, or other raiders who got it in their mind that the nearby group was smaller, weaker. Or something more vile than a rat, sniffing out after the death and decay in hopes to spread it’s virus.

Tommy’s gaze finds yours, and he studies you, as if trying to take you apart and sort through what the pieces meant.

“I know his ugly face was ‘cause of Joel- no one else that headstrong to put a bullet between his eyes. But he had a nasty shoulder. Skin clawed off his wrist.”

“What, were you friends with him?”

You resisted the urge to pick under your nails, to clean out anything left of Terry. There’s a beat of silence, and then Tommy’s lips spread out in a wolfish grin.

“No. Was gonna put a bullet in ‘im myself if Joel didn’t. Just wanted to say that I’m glad he suffered before. Especially if he cut up your pretty face.”

You nod, and turn your head away; half to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks and half to hide Terry’s assault. Tommy tilts his head to follow you, maintaining your gaze.

He smiles, eyes scanning over you. “Don’t worry- I dig chicks with scars.”

You laugh and it’s so unexpected that even you blink in surprise. You compose yourself, but Tommy’s smile is just wider, accomplished.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what my life goal is, for raiders to think I’m hot.”

Tommy’s jaw twinges at the word ‘raiders’, but he just shrugs. “Well, congrats then- mission accomplished.”

You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head. You flick your eyes back to him and allow yourself to examine him closer. His hair is combed back, and he’s has a slight stubble to him. As if he was a man who preferred to be clean shaven, but had been without a razor for a bit too long; a contrast to his brother. Smooth skin, cheekbones that drag your eyes down to his lips. He’s older than you but you struggle to pinpoint by how much.

He smiles as if it’s the easiest thing in the world; as if you were both just at some bar, chatting with each other, and the world hadn’t ended; as if you hadn’t done things you weren’t proud of and he hadn’t probably done worse.

“Seems ya to like to stare at Miller men.” He says, teasing.

He has the same Southern drawl, but his voice is higher, not as weighted. You blush and turn away but he waves his hands in defense.

“‘It’s not embarrassin’. I get it- I’d stare at him too to take in my handiwork.” He waggles his thick eyebrows. “Or were you starin’ at him for some other reason?”

You scoff, and turn back to him; glaring as the anger in your chest rears its head back up. “Handiwork?”

He smirks, nodding. “Yeah. Saw the scratches on Joel’s neck.”

He reaches up, gesturing his hands clawing down his neck. “Just a shame you didn’t give him a black eye too- would’ve paid money to see it.”

You should feel embarrassed, or wary to be discussing your earlier grapple with Joel’s brother. But instead your lips tug up. You look at Tommy from the corner of your eye.

“I kicked him in the balls. If that’s worth anything.”

His eyes blow wide and his mouth drops open a bit until he laughs, tipping his head back. “God. No wonder he was so moody when he came and got me.”

He chuckles to himself before he looks back at you. “That’s good. If you can kick him in the nuts and get away with it, you’ll make it here. No doubts.”

You nod, not sure how to respond. Did you want to make it here, wherever here was?

The conversation flows on. Tommy gives you the names of everyone, pointing them out around the fire. You’re able to laugh with him, and offer a little bit to the conversation.

You’re not sure where you stand with this man. How truly trustworthy he is beneath his charming facade. But Ryan’s antiseptic and skills were something you’d need to keep close by before you were fully healed up. Until the wound on your face became a scar, you couldn’t leave.

So, when he asks about where you came from, what you’re doing all the way out here, you feed him little pieces of information- not enough for him to gather the full story, but enough that he leans in closer; as if deciding to trust, or at least entertain, you too.

You don’t register that Joel’s walked over to you until Tommy’s gaze flicks upwards, and you follow.

Joel’s glaring down at his brother, and Tommy’s easy smile slips off his face; replaced with a hard carve of his lips and tense hunch of his brow. The charming man fades away, and in his place is a hardened, now seemingly older man. A raider- not a man you met at a bar that didn’t exist anymore.

There seems to be unspoken words between the two, communicated in the flare of Joel’s nostrils, the square of his shoulders, the clench of his fists. You simply watch the exchange, enraptured and feeling like you’re intruding. Finally, Tommy sighs, and his gaze slides to you, a bashful smile put back in place.

“Nice meeting ya, Dollface.”

You laugh, and when he offers you his hand again, you reach out, shaking it. He lingers, holding onto you, and you’re stuck staring into the dark of his eyes; you can see the firelight flickering in them.

Joel clears his throat, and Tommy rolls his eyes, shooting you a smirk as if to say Can you believe this guy? But he pulls back, pushing himself to his feet. He raises to his full height, and stares at Joel- more unspoken conversation, and now it’s Tommy talking in the set of his jaw, the tilt of his head, the twinge in his temple. The tension snaps and dissipates when he simply shakes his head, brushing past Joel and returning to sit by the fire.

Joel scoffs at him, and shakes his head. He doesn’t look at you as he sits down, taking Tommy’s seat beside you.

“What was that?”

His jaw clenches, and he keeps looking across to the fire. “Nothin’.”

“Yeah, sure seemed like nothing.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to lick across his lip and he shakes his head slightly. “None of your business.”

You force yourself to exhale through your nose, to not slap him across the face. “Sure- but I was having a nice conversation with him. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of that to go around here amidst all the shooting.”

He scoffs, and finally turns to you fully. His face is half cast in light from the fire, and the thought catches in your throat that Tommy was only sitting here a minute ago and didn’t look half as handsome as the man in front of you.

Joel glares at you, the notch in his brow deeper. “Those two needed to go- not gonna have some fuckin’ punks walking around like they make the rules.”

His eye dips down to the bandage on your cheek and you wonder if he sees the knife stabbed into it as much as you still feel it. He drags his gaze back to yours, hissing. “And Tommy only wants to get in your pants. Nothin’ nice about the conversation.”

Your eyes widen and you scoff, words slipping out before you can stop them. “Bite me.”

He scowls, lip tugging down. “Real creative.”

“What?” You demand, leaning forward, fire licking up inside you. “Am I supposed to sit here and think of a fucking essay when you tell me all your brother wants to do is fuck me?”

Joel’s brow furrows, and he clicks his teeth. “Watch it.”

You huff but you’re left with a moment of tension, and it leaves you with flashes of images- Terry’s head splattered across the floor. Your wrist nearly broken by Joel’s hand. His gun glinting at his waist.

But you also see the obedient turn of heads. Tommy’s annoyance yet subordination.

You’re angry. Angry that you were so exhausted you had to sleep. Angry that you weren’t prepared more in that fucking shop. Angry that you got caught. Angry that you got stabbed. Angry that you’re stuck with this group when you were doing just fine on your own before you met them. Angry that the man beside you is talking to you like you’re a child. You yield to the fire inside you and scoff.

“Fuck off Joel.”

His eyes widen and it’s the same minuscule, near-unnoticeable change that reveals his shock. But he just clenches his jaw, showing more restraint than you had. “Sure got some gall.”

You run your tongue along your teeth, and his eyes track the movement. “I ‘had some fight’, right? Thought that’s why I’m here.”

His eyes stay trained on you, and his gaze is heavy, stern. “Just ‘cause you can run your mouth doesn’t mean jack.”

Your eyes dip to his neck, and you see what Tommy was talking about. Where you had scratched him earlier, there is jagged lines down the smooth column of his neck, some speckled with blood. Your eyes flick back to his.

“Yeah?”

His nostrils flare and it’s the only indication that he knows exactly what you were looking at. He snarls, and leans even closer.

“Tomorrow we’re on the move. You slip up, you fuck up, you don’t have any of that ‘fight’ in ya, and you’re done for.”

You clench your jaw but you don’t flinch back, instead holding his gaze. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He scoffs and is the first to lean back, shaking his head. “You’re gonna learn some respect.” He pins you with a glare. “Don’t ever mouth off like that in front of anyone- or you’re gonna wish I left you for dead with that knife in your face.”

You swallow, and your cheek burns in pain and shame. You clench your hand.. Force yourself to feel the strain of your bones where he had nearly crushed them and the nails digging into your palm instead of reaching across and slapping him as hard as you could.

You could see the imaginary line you had to toe. Not subordinate enough for him to step on you and treat you like shit. Not insubordinate enough for him to put a bullet between your eyes. Tell him to fuck off when you needed to. Bow your head when he told you to.

So you just nod, and turn from him, leaning back against the fountain. You had clearly pushed enough of his buttons tonight, and you weren’t ready to push anymore. Yet.

He huffs beside you, and turns away, facing back to the group.

Finally, after what feels like tortuous hours of uncomfortable silence, he clears his throat. “You ever used a gun?”

You look at him from the corner of your eye but don’t turn to him. “What?”

He scoffs beside you, as if repeating himself is his own personal hell. “Have you ever used a gun?”

You swallow, and your hand slides in your sleeping bag, thumbing over the hilt of your knife. “Yeah. Got taught in FEDRA’s school.”

He turns his head at that, maybe just realising that you didn’t simply spawn into existence in this mall. That you had a life. A school. Maybe friends. A family. That you had gotten out, gotten this far by yourself.

He tuts. “‘T’s not gonna do you shit then. I’ll teach you tomorrow as we go.”

You swallow, tilting your head slightly to look at him. “Tommy can do that. Or Ryan.”

“Already sick of me, Newbie?”

You don’t say anything, and he leans in closer, eyes narrowing.

“I brought you in. ‘M responsible for you.”

You turn back to him fully, eyebrows raised. “You said I was free to go. I joined. I’m not some sick puppy you dragged in to fix up.”

His tongue runs along his teeth beneath his lips. “Whether you like it or not, it’s cause of me that you’re here and not bleeding out in some fuckin’ shop.”

You resist the urge to bite your ruined cheek. He’s right. You know it. You can feel the debt you owe to him thrumming between the two of you.

“So, what? You teach, and then I can stay out of your way?”

“Sure,” He snaps, eyes dark. “You learn to shoot a gun properly, and I won’t have to talk to you again.”

You clench your jaw. “Great.”

“What’s wrong, Dollface?” He hisses the name. “You should be jumping for joy.”

“What’s your issue?” You snap, reeling on him. “You take me in, get my face fixed up and now you’re pushing me for a fucking fight. What is it? Seeing how long it takes for me to snap, how long until you can put a bullet between my eyes too?”

He huffs, and shakes his head, fury evident in the clench of his jaw. “‘M not testing you.”

“So what is it?” You push, glowering. “Can’t stand the thought of your brother getting some ‘cause I told you I’d bite your dick off?”

His eyes flick towards you, and he scoffs. “No. Just don’t get why you’re buddying up to him. You’ve gotta learn something.” He hisses. “Anyone who’s made it this far, who’s survived, didn’t do so cause they were fuckin’ nice.”

You glare at him. “You don’t think I learned my lesson from Terry? From your crew?”

You jut out your chin, and his eyes snag on the bandage across your face. You know what he’s thinking- that you’re never going to be able to forget that lesson. Something like pity flashes through his eyes for a second before you see him chew his cheek for a second, as if physically biting back his response. He takes a deep breath, and then another, before he looks back at you.

“Don’t get it twisted,” He says, eyes dark and foreboding. “Terry wasn’t good. But a Miller,” He huffs, "is a different kind of bad. Stay away from Tommy.”

You swallow, and almost want to laugh at the dramatism; but something in his words is ragged, raw. True.

You clench your jaw, levelling your gaze with him. “And what about you? You said you’re responsible for me now. Miller.”

His lips tilt down but he shrugs, nonchalantly. You scoff.

“So what? Tommy’s some big bad wolf I should steer clear from, but you’re my guardian angel?”

He mirrors you, scoffing and crossing his hands across his chest. You hate the stupid flex of his forearms and the way your eye catches on the shadow. “Nowhere near that. But I’m not gonna let you jeopardise my crew until you can prove you can handle your own.”

“You brought me in.” You hiss, throwing his own words in his face.

“Exactly,” He snarls, lip curling. “I brought you in and if you fuck up, it’s on me.”

Your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “So you teach me to not fuck up- And then you won’t have to talk to me again. That’s our deal right? I do as I’m told and I get to stay. Nothing more, nothing less.” You say, repeating his words from earlier again.

His jaw flexes, but he nods.

“Can’t wait.” You hiss, turning away from him

He doesn’t leave. You can feel him practically thrumming with annoyance and anger at how petty and childish you were- but he doesn’t leave.

You’re his responsibility now, hisses the small voice in your head. You want to tell it to shut up. To understand that you could have left, still could if you wanted to; but you chose to be here, because otherwise you would have died two streets away with a raider robbing your boots off your cold feet. Hell, you might have made it a week before the dirt and rubble and spores sunk into your wound and you died a feverish death.

But you don’t. Because you know that you owe Joel- owe him for the bullet in Terry, the bullet in his other insubordinate, the stitches in your face; the protection and food and shelter you’d get now in this desolate waste land of a city. That was the deal. He provides you with the mockery of a good life in this wasteland, and you do as you’re told.

And you know that Joel is responsible for you. Killing two of his own men, even if it was for disobeying his rules, because of you was a threat to his domineering authority. You, your actions, your slip ups, your fuck ups, would all be a reflection on him.

He was responsible for you and you owed him. Two truths that coexisted in this twisted partnership you had found yourself in.

So you don’t tell him to fuck off again and to go back to the fire. Instead, you lay on your side, back still against the fountain, and tug up your sleeping bag to your chin. Your head is closest to Joel; enough that if you tilted your eyes up, you’d be able to see the underside of his jaw, his cheekbones, the messy top of hair. Right now your gaze could only find the solidness of his thighs.

You think of the quick draw of his gun, his unflinching gaze as he blew someone’s head off for the second time that day. You wonder if he meant it- if he was a different, but wholly worse evil than Terry.

You don’t think you want to find out.

He can watch your back tonight, teach you about guns tomorrow, and the day after, you would make sure you keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

The pain is still throbbing, but it’s becoming an accepted, familiar sensation in your body. It dulls in the background of sleep.

[holly-fixation]

Seraphic and Sinister: Ch6

Summary: Sephiroth learns that he has a child, a lab made specimen existing under the same terrible conditions he was raised in. In a moment of pure rage, he rescues his child. However, his fate has long been sealed, but the child’s fate is unknown. 

Never did he expect the cadet that killed him to take responsibility for the heir of His planet. 

Inspired by various asks to @rottenpumpkin13

Chapter 6: Under the Shroud of Night

The baby remained still, eyes occasionally opening, small noises rarely emanating, but despite her obvious fear, once she slept, she did not cry when waking. She couldn't sleep through the night, yet Sephiroth knew this display was another trained obedience courtesy of Doctor Hojo. 

Sephiroth, between watch, read the single resource he acquired on how to accomplish this task he threw himself into, cover to cover, multiple times. He folded the corners of each page with critical information, knowledge that applies to all children of all ages and what he could actually do for the next stage in her development, like procuring soft foods so she can begin using her jaw.  

He glanced at the sky, the dark distance beyond the smog. It must be around zero-two-hundred. Another hour and they should move again. 

Shinra, hopefully, assumed they were already beyond Kalm or climbing the mountains south to avoid being spotted by locals. He hoped they didn't expect him to take the long way, the normal way, the unenhanced non-SOLDIER way. 

He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. SOLDIER. His duty for as long as he could remember. Though being free of the program meant no longer needing to interact with Hojo, it meant he may never see his only two friends again. 

He hoped Genesis and Angeal were taking his desertion alright. That's what Shinra would call his decision to save his child: a desertion from his duties and treason against the company. Maybe he could find his way to their hometown and see them one last time on leave, at least to say a proper goodbye. 

He wished he could take them too. But he knew his daughter would be in more danger the larger their group grew. Being recognized, being spotted- by accident or by overreaction, he couldn't take that risk. 

They were alone. They’d be alone forever.

He shook his head, refocusing his thoughts. He gathered the bag of supplies and his materia, checking and counting each item. His child's tiny sword hid just below the edges of the bag when diagonal within. They had enough for another day. Not enough to get them to Junon but enough for now. 

He sighed. They needed an actual plan. A destination at some point. For now, as far away from Midgar would have to do. 

“Seraphina,” Sephiroth spoke softly as he tightened the makeshift blankets around his daughter. 

Her eyes suddenly opened, wide awake, the softest of whines and knotted brows meeting him.

“I'm sorry. It's still dark, but we have to go. Can you keep your eyes closed when I tell you just like before?” 

She nodded, but instead of searching as long as she could, she hid her face against his chest, away from the unending darkness.

Sephiroth tried to rub her back, rocking her softly in a desperate attempt to soothe. Specs of her hair glimmered in the shifting light of the mako crystal. 

“Dada…”

The new chapters of the parenting book stated the importance of ‘validation’. “It's okay… it's okay… No one will hurt you… Nothing will get you…” His voice was a whisper but she seemed to hear him, her whines lessening bit by bit. 

* * * 

The former Silver Soldier began the trek back to the town of Kalm. Nocturnal creatures halted at the sight of him before scurrying back into the dead lands. Only the bravest of vehicles departed from the town to procure goods from the city. He hid behind terrain from each pair of headlights that passed. 

Shinra investigated the town already, but Sephiroth couldn't take the risk that Hojo left a trap behind for him.

He kept his head of filthy hair down, his daughter out of sight against him, the bag of supplies dangling from his elbow. He shuffled through the streets slowly, as if suffering from mako poisoning or as another sick, homeless man trying to find a place to spend the night. Whatever it took to keep eyes off him and sightings forgettable. 

Street music petered through the waning nightlife air, slowly making its way to roaming silence as citizens and tourists returned to their homes and hotels. Sephiroth felt the dirty glares and heard the small scoffs of his ‘presence that ruined the vibe’ of the small town. So much for making it through without notice, the clearly Shinra managers on their short vacations couldn't handle the sight of the poor. It amazed him how many made comments to each other that he should ‘go back to the slums’.

He ignored them, focusing on the rooftops, alleys, and porches troops and cadets would patiently conduct stakeouts, listening for the smallest shuffles or clicks of communication devices. 

However, just as before, his mind kept shifting to the baby in his arms. Every adjustment, every grip of his uniform straps, every unintentional whine claimed his focus for far too long. Every second was far too long. He hushed her, patting her back and trying to keep her asleep. At least asleep, she didn't distract him. 

By the time he heard quick shuffling and glanced up to a third floor balcony, three people were leaving and one stared directly at him with a cell phone to their ear. They glanced away, and in any other circumstance he would claim it was coincidence. 

He moved faster and slipped down an alley. He looked forward, eyes on his next step and the step beyond as he weaved through the tight streets. 

There was only one public road from Kalm to the Grasslands. If Shinra blocked the way, he'd jump the wall without hesitation. Yes, helicopters would follow but he would still be ahead of R&D.

He hoped. 

At the east gates of Kalm, security officers stood by the blinking lights of their vehicles. A few delivery trucks stayed still, idling in an immobile line. 

A checkpoint. 

Sephiroth didn't have a choice. He slipped into an alley, glanced for any witnesses, and jumped into a second floor fire escape with a tight grip on his daughter, landing delicately to prevent spooking the residence. He slithered up the stairs to the top floor, keeping all steps silent. He launched to the roof. 

Not a single aircraft threatened his escape, the night sky silent and clear with the inclusion of Midgar's smog. He dashed from rooftop to rooftop. Staying out of sight was absolutely necessary.

At the edge of the wall, he took a breath and glanced down at his daughter, her eyes still locked shut despite her clear awareness. “Last one,” He whispered. 

She nodded, hiding against him one last time in Kalm. 

He launched down the stones, landing on the last mako pipes in the north half of the Eastern Continent. Despite the lack of a search party, he kept moving. He fought every instinct to head east toward civilization and headed south. 

The darkness of the sky warned him that only an hour of night remained. He found some old Republic ruins, clearly old homes and buildings, but the vaguest sense of four walls despite the lack of roof would have to do until sun up. 

Especially with his daughter’s new sobs. 

He practically dropped their supplies and turned her slit mako eyes to his own. “What can I do? What do you need, Seraphina?”

“Bottle…” she whined at a whisper. 

When was the last time he fed her? He searched through their supplies and uncapped the half empty protein shake. 

She held her hands in a scoop, simply waiting for the bottle to land between them. Sephiroth tilted slowly, and just as before, her eyes widened when the chocolate hit her tongue. 

He guessed this counted as breakfast. She finished the container off. He'd have to keep his eyes open for clean water. At least then the bottle wouldn't waste space in their small storage. 

He really hoped he could purchase a tent soon. If anything, to help her fear and maybe, just maybe, allow the smallest flame. 

His own thoughts took him off guard. They were on the run from everything they'd ever known, and all he can think about is how to help her with this insignificant problem. 

He slipped the bottle back into the bag. “Do you want to stand?”

She nodded, trying to open the burritoed fabrics around her. 

“Easy,” He tried to calm as he helped. The books also said something about narrating what he was doing. He'd… try. It felt stupid, stating the obvious out loud, even if it wasn't obvious for her. “Here.” He lowered her to her feet. 

She took a few wobbly steps before looking up. 

Sephiroth almost grabbed her, but she wasn't growing worried. He followed her gaze to the sky. 

The smog of Midgar began to fade, and stars pierced through the blanket of darkness. Not enough to fill the sky, but enough scattered about to decorate. 

Seraphina reached for the sky, the twinkling burning spheres reflecting perfectly in her eyes and on her hair. In that moment, despite Sephiroth's ability to see in the dark, she reminded him of stardust, a phenomenon only captured by satellite telescopes but he hoped to see one day, a childish dream he had nearly forgotten. 

Stardust. 

“We'll take a break until dawn. Then we keep moving.” 

She didn't acknowledge his statement. 

“Seraphina?” Was she too young for a nickname? “Do you like your name?”

She just looked at him and tilted her head.

“Would you like a nickname?”

She was silent, confused, and he could almost see the little gears turning in her mind. Gears that shouldn't exist, but they were way past that. “...Serapina…?” She pointed to herself before pointing to him, curled away. “...Sepirod…”

Though her mispronunciations came across perfectly, she didn't have any teeth. She couldn't pronounce ‘f’ or ‘th’ no matter how much she wanted to. 

“That's very good, Seraphina. Not the question but very good.”

Despite his praise she stared down, wincing. She was ready for punishment. 

“Do you want to be called something other than your real name?”

She looked at him for a long time before staring down, gripping her clothes. “...Girl… S-Soldier…” Tears welled in her eyes. 

He suddenly picked her up and encouraged her to look at the stars with him. 

Her tears dried as she rapidly surveyed the great unknown. 

“Those are stars. They're giant balls of gas in space with planets floating around them. Our sun is a small star, but it's so close to us it looks very big.” He looked down at her. “Do you like them?”

She blinked against the glittering sky. “...stars…” she really did learn fast. 

“What if I give you a real nickname?” What if I gave you a name, not whatever the lab saddled you with? Parents are supposed to name their children, aren't they? “What if I called you something that's not your name that still means you?”

Her brows raised in confusion. 

“What if…?” He trailed off. Gods he felt stupid. What was he even doing? They had more important things to worry about than names. “Never mind. Keep watching the stars.”

She didn't need to be told twice. 

.

.

.

.

To be continued...

Chapter list 

Thanks for reading!  

Notes: I have to admit, I try to make the world as accurate as possible, but I have no idea how you get from Kalm to the Grasslands normally in Rebirth. Hope this works! They have to get food deliveries somehow. I wrote this at the Jury pool today but the room had no service so I couldn't look anything up.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Hours in the Moonlight: Persevering Afterlight - 1. First Night on the Job

Summary: You were fully enveloped in the world of the night now, with vampires on all sides, and there was really no going back. Especially now that you were the head-vampire’s personal vampire hunter. A strange position, to be sure. And you already had your first job. To evaluate the first of several clans in the hopes of figuring out what was going on with the number of insane vampires. And to top it all off, you were going to be spending this entire job dealing with one of the few vampires who knew exactly how unprepared you were for your job as the vampire hunter.

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ Vampire AU/ romantic/ angst/ angst with comfort/ fluff/ sfw/ platonic interactions too!

Trigger Warning: Vampire

Word Count: 1701

Hours in the Moonlight Master-List

I’d already realized that one of the side effects of spending time with vampires was becoming more nocturnal than a normal person. Luckily, I now had the excuse of supposedly having a late-night shift. 

And in truth, I suppose I did. My new job was to be the Hunter for the clans in my area. As of last night, I’d been hired by Dire Crowley. The man who’d turned Epel and Rook into vampires as a way of forcing my hand.

According to him, he’d had enough of me lingering on the very outer edges of the world of vampires that I’d only just officially entered last night. Being close to Vil and being consistently pursued by vampires put me too close to vampires for me to stay innocent regarding the world of the night.

My hand clenched before I forced myself to let it relax. Frowning towards my curtained-off window. I’d been told last night that I would receive my first orders tonight, but, despite the fact I’d already awoken from my lengthy rest, night had not yet truly fallen.

It would be a while yet before my orders came, and it seemed like the only thing for me to do outside of eating breakfast was to mull over everything that had happened last night at the masquerade.

I’d met a slew of vampire clans and found out that it was now my job to evaluate each of them to try and uncover the cause of the increased numbers of crazed vampires as well as do away with said crazed vampires. And refusing wasn’t really an option. Not when I had no doubts that Crowley would turn more innocent individuals into vampires, just like he had done to my friends.

The only true allies I had in this world were Vil, Rook, and Epel. The newly cemented Pomefiore clan. But I suspected Vil would be busy dealing with having officially formed his clan. There was no telling what all being the head of a clan entailed if there was one vampire that was over a whole group of them. 

It seemed that, considering there was a head-vampire for our area and specified leaders for a myriad of clans, there was more to the politics of the undead world of vampires than I’d realized.

I stood from my seat with a sigh. Putting my dish on the countertop before approaching the window and separating the curtains to look out into the oncoming night. 

In the not-so-distant past, I might have been excitedly awaiting a visit from Vil, but I didn’t know what to expect from tonight as I stared into the afterlight of the sunset that still illuminated the horizon. Signaling the oncoming darkness that would come with instructions.

Would Crowley himself be the one giving me my orders, or would it be someone else entirely?

Epel and I had discussed the varying possibilities while he’d walked me back to my apartment last night. The only thing we’d really been able to agree on was that it would probably be for the best if I meet whoever it was on my own, though he had initially protested that thought, saying that he would stay with me to make sure I was safe.

I’d turned down his offer, though, and told him that I wanted to put forth my best effort in my new job.

But in reality, I was worried. 

I was still new to dealing with clans, but if Crowley’s expression when he saw that I was being supported by the Pomefiore clan last night was anything to go by, it might be best to deal with business on my own. As a solo Hunter rather than as someone attached to the Pomefiore clan.

It was an idea that had stung when it had occurred to me after Epel had mentioned that Rook had said he’d always worked alone. Keeping his distance from clans to ensure no one suspected him of favoring any one group over the others.

I watched as the afterlight slowly faded from the sky and stars began to twinkle within the darkness. I didn’t even know if Crowley knew where to send his directions. But I also didn’t want to question it.

He obviously knew quite a bit about me since he’d known he could use Epel and Rook to force my hand. I could only assume he also knew where I lived. Which was an uncomfortable thought, but something I would have to live with.

I’d played brave last night, but I knew exactly how risky a position I was in. His assertion that, so long as I did as I was told, he would ensure that no one bothered me at my home had been a thinly veiled threat. 

Do as I say, or even your home won’t be safe.

I felt myself grimace as I recalled his words. They were frightening, and had made me want to flee. To hide somewhere and avoid vampires outside of those I was close to, as I’d done in the past.

But if I did that, what might he do to Vil, Rook, and Epel? And where would I hide anyway?

I let my hand rest on the window sill, forcing myself to calm back down. I would do as I’d said I would and be his eyes within the clans. After all, the number of vampires losing themselves to insanity was apparently rising. Which meant it could have something to do with the rise in the number of deaths and incidents as of late. 

I saw something shift in the shadows in the distance and stepped backwards as a frown crawled its way across my face, and I watched a form dart across the street and towards my apartment building. 

I was two stories up, but that had never been a problem for Vil in the past, so I suspected that such a distance wouldn’t really matter to any other vampires either.

I watched as the man appeared on the other side of my window, his hand lifting so that he could jauntily tip his top hat at me as he peered at me with those bright pink eyes that I recognized from last night.

I opened my window, a part of me wanting to refuse, but I knew that I had to in order to accept whatever instructions this man carried for me from Crowley.

“Evening, Little Imp. You’ll want a coat tonight,” I felt my eyebrows lift at his friendly tone, but he’d struck me as a more friendly individual last night anyway. 

“You’re the man from last night,” I stepped backwards as I spoke, giving him room as he nodded. Confirming my observation, but declining to enter.

“I am indeed, and welcome to the world of the night to you,” His words were ominous, but his tone remained amicable. Like he wasn’t someone who worked under the man who’d forced me into my current position.

“Your first job is to check in on the Savanaclaw clan,” I watched as the man shifted so that he was sitting in my window. Utterly relaxed as he explained my job, “They’re the clan that has currently lost the largest number of vampires to the disease, so they are the most worrying.”

I nodded, crossing my arms as I did my best to match his easy going, but businesslike demeanor, “Where are they at?”

The man grinned, “I’ll be taking you there and formally introducing you. You’re the first Hunter to work for the head-vampire of our district, after all.”

“I see….” I trailed off as I pondered his words slightly, wondering if it was really that big of a deal for the head-vampire to have a vampire hunter working under him, but the man didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the wariness my tone carried.

“Well, if you’re ready…?” As soon as he spoke, holding out a gloved hand that gestured out towards the horizon, I was glad that I’d already prepared before the sun had fully set. 

If I was going to be marching into some unfamiliar clan, then I was going to at least look the part of a vampire hunter.

I leaned down, collecting my bag of stakes and other anti-vampire paraphernalia, before nodding at the man, “I’ll meet you out on the street.”

He grinned at my words but nodded in agreement before leaning over so that he was peering directly at me with hardly even two inches between us, “Name’s Sam, by the way.” 

He leaned back so that he was no longer leaning into my room, and I swallowed slightly before nodding. Somehow surprised to be receiving his name, but murmuring my own name in reply out of habit, “Y/n…”

His eyes were alight as he nodded, “Well, I look forward to working with you. Y/n.” I frowned slightly at the way he paused before saying my name, but with only those words, he leaned to the side, dropping out of my window and causing me to gasp in surprise before I hurried to lean out my window and look down.

And a part of me felt like a fool when I saw him walking along the street, whistling to himself as if nothing had happened. He was a vampire, after all. I should’ve known he could make that landing.

But I didn’t have time to chide myself. I had a clan to go meet and now a vampire was waiting for me on the street below. And while Sam certainly didn’t seem like a bad guy, he did work under Crowley, and I wasn’t willing to tempt fate.

My cross rested against my chest under my shirt, a comforting weight as I tugged on a coat and slipped out my door. Locking it behind me before I turned to head out into the night, the weight of my necklace reminding me that even if I felt incredibly out of my depth, I wasn’t wholly alone and did have friends that I could turn to.

But right this instant, I had a job to do, and I wasn’t going to be late on my first night on the job.

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[angeliicheartt]

elle’s final project for ap psych ! psychoanalyzing the cruel prince !

before you read ! i literally did this so i could pass my class and likely some of my observations are not completely accurate. one of the requirements for this assignment was to assign a character a mental disorder. i assigned cardan antisocial personality disorder but i do not believe he has it ! it is literally just for the grade. also i was explaining this to my gen x (maybe boomer actually) teacher so the summary and my descriptions are not very detailed (but are also kind of overdetailed?) so, here’s ur warning.

thank you, enjoy!

Summary & Importance

“The Cruel Prince” by Holly Black follows Jude Duarte, a mortal, human girl who, along with her twin sister, Taryn, and her older sister Vivi, is taken to the land of Faerie at the age of 7 after witnessing the murder of her parents by a faerie general named Madoc, who is also Vivi’s father. Raised among the faeries, Jude struggles to find her place in a world where she is considered inferior for being mortal.

At the school that Jude goes to, her and her sister are targeted by the youngest prince of Faerie, Cardan Greenbriar, and his group of friends consistently, for being mortal. Tension builds between Jude and Cardan throughout the book, as they are pushed together by circumstances.

After being denied by Madoc to become a knight, Jude gets an offer from her enemy’s second eldest brother, the crown prince, Dain Greenbriar, to become a spy in his court of shadows. The story follows Jude as she finds out all kinds of secrets about the royal family of Faerie.

Jude tries to balance her normal life during the night, as faeries are primarily nocturnal, and her life as a spy in the early hours of the morning. She’s tasked with investigating Balekin, the eldest prince of Faerie, whose growing tension with Dain only intensifies as Dain’s coronation grows closer.

As Jude investigates, she finds out secrets about Cardan, who, after getting kicked out of the Palace of Elfhame, now stays with the only brother who would take him in.

Dain’s coronation comes around and Balekin, after attempting to force the High King to name him the next High King, kills all of his siblings and father, besides Cardan, because the crown, named the blood crown, was enchanted so that only members of the royal bloodline may pass the crown down to another member of the royal bloodline. As everyone breaks into chaos, Jude and Cardan find each other and escape. Jude leads him to the court of shadows, as a “hostage,” and works with him to make a plan to defeat Balekin.

Balekin sends out parties to find Cardan, as he is the only known person who can crown him High King. He throws a ball to lift the spirits of the gentry, who had doubted his ruling due to his display at Dain’s coronation. Jude arrives with Cardan to the ball, and together, with the help of the court of shadows, defeat Balekin and crown Cardan High King.

When I first read this series, I was completely engrossed in the alternate world of Faerie and the drama and romance that occurs. Along with that drama comes a lot of killing and death. The different plot twists and heart-wrenching scenes came to mind when I first heard about the final project and thought it would be perfect to analyze.

Perspectives

Madoc is the Grand General, as well as Jude’s adoptive father. From an evolutionary perspective, Madoc can be analyzed through the lens of survival of the fittest. As a high-ranking member of the faerie court, Madoc exudes dominance through his need for power and control. His actions, such as fostering Jude can be seen as kin selection, as he ensures the survival and success of his own bloodline. Additionally, Madoc’s ruthless and aggressive nature aligns with the evolutionary perspective, specifically with mating strategies, as he may seek to eliminate his rivals to maximize his reproductive success and secure resources for his offspring. Finally, his willingness to manipulate and exploit others reflects adaptive behaviors for social dominance in the Faerie world.

Cardan Greenbriar is the main rival in “The Cruel Prince,” turned ally in the last parts of the book. Through the sociocultural lens of psychology, we can see how Cardan’s cruel and manipulative nature can be understood because of his distressing upbringing in the cruel faerie court, where power dynamics and deception are normalized. His behavior may also reflect the impact of societal norms and expectations within the faerie realm, where strength, dominance, and beauty are valued above all else. Furthermore, Cardan’s complex relationship with his family and peers shapes his self-image and behaviors, as he navigates loyalty, betrayal, and social hierarchy. Moreover, his interactions with Jude and other characters highlight the role of socialization and personal relationships in shaping individual personality traits and behaviors within the context of the Faerie world.

Jude Duarte is the main character in “The Cruel Prince,” and the adopted daughter of the Grand General. Jude can be analyzed through the behavioral lens by looking at her actions, motivations, and responses to different situations. Her resilience and determination to survive and thrive in the deceptive Faerie court demonstrate adaptive behaviors shaped by her environment. She tries her best to act and live like the Fae. Jude’s strategic decision-making, cunning, and willingness to manipulate others reflect her ability to learn and adapt to complex social dynamics around her. In addition, her defiance against societal norms and expectations within the faerie world showcases her independence, despite being a human in a world dominated by faeries. On top of that, her internal conflicts and moral dilemmas provide insight into the psychological toll of navigating power struggles and ethical uncertainties in a hostile environment. Overall, Jude’s behavior reflects a blend of innate traits and learned responses, shaped by her experiences and interactions within the Faerie realm.

Biological Bases of Behavior

The amygdala is located near the hippocampus and controls emotion and survival responses, specifically aggression, fear, and fear memories. Jude’s amygdala is likely very active as she must always be on alert and almost always in “fight or flight” mode, due to being mortal in the Faerie world.

The cerebellum is at the base of the skull and controls balance and muscle coordination. Jude’s cerebellum is also very active, for swordplay, you must have amazing balance and muscle coordination.

The motor cortex is at the back of the frontal lobe and controls voluntary muscle movements. Jude’s motor cortex would be the part of the brain that’s active while she’s fighting, as to swing her sword or dodge.

The somatosensory cortex is at the front of the parietal lobe and processes sensory information. This part of the brain is active while Jude fights and when she gets hit to notify the rest of the brain that the body has been harmed.

The prefrontal cortex is at the front of the frontal lobe and manages planning, decision making, and distinguishing right and wrong. Jude’s prefrontal cortex is very active near the end of the book as she plans and leads the charge to make sure Balekin does not get crowned High King, as she must plan the attack, make quick decisions when something goes awry and distinguish if crowning Cardan is really the right thing to do.

Jude was raised in the mortal world until she was 7 years old, however she spent most of her life in Elfhame, raised among the Fae and the Gentry. She is trained personally by Madoc, the grand general, in the art of the sword and warfare. Before Jude became a spy, she stuck by what she knew and stayed with her family, as humans are predestined to do. However, afterwards, her nurtured side took over, and she seemed all the daughter that Madoc raised, weaned on swordplay and battles.

Sensation and Perception

The difference threshold is the smallest difference between two stimuli that can be detected 50% of the time. Cardan, apart from Jude and Taryn’s family, is the only character in “The Cruel Prince” that can tell Jude and Taryn apart, by the smallest difference.

Feature detectors are specialized neurons that respond to specific stimuli li and process faces, smiles, and parts of the body. Jude’s feature detectors work constantly throughout the book as she analyzes and reads her opponents and foes.

Learning

Classical conditioning is learning to make an involuntary response to a stimulus other than the original, natural stimulus that normally produces the response. In “The Cruel Prince,” Cardan stiffens under Balekin’s touch, who has previously abused Cardan. So, the very act of Balekin touching Cardan causes him to stiffen in preparation for impact, which is the involuntary response in this situation.

Negative reinforcement is the removal of an unpleasant stimulus to increase a behavior. As Taryn conforms to the norms of the Fae, and stays to herself, Cardan and his group of friends stop bothering her, and focus on Jude, who does all she can to stand out. So, in this situation, the unpleasant stimulus is Cardan and his group of friends tormenting Taryn, and once she stops trying to be equal with the Fae, that stimulus is removed.

Positive punishment is when an unpleasant or aversive stimulus is added to reduce a behavior. In “The Cruel Prince,” from pages 117 to 119, Balekin, Cardan’s eldest brother, has a human servant whip his back, for being weak and not properly sword fighting, and then again for not killing the human servant.

Observational learning is the learning of new behavior through watching a model. When Jude is first enlisted as a spy, she’s loud and exposed. But, by watching the other members of the Court of Shadows, she learns how to conceal herself and properly be a spy.

Cognitive Psychology

Flashbulb memories are unexpected events that have strong emotional associations. In “The Cruel Prince,” Valerian, who was one of Cardan’s friends who tormented Jude, tries to kill Jude, however he fails, and Jude ends up killing him instead. Valerian uses his last words to curse Jude, he says “I curse you... I curse you. Three times, I curse you. As you’ve murdered me, may your hands always be stained with blood. May death be your only companion. May you—”and then he dies, (211). Then, continuously throughout the book, and going into the other books, Valerian’s words constantly replay in Jude’s head.

Implicit memories are memories for skills, habits, and learned/conditioned responses. Since Jude was 7 and first came to the Faerie world, she had been trained with the sword and learned the ways of war by her “adoptive” father, Madoc, otherwise known as the Grand General. Throughout the book, Jude shows off these skills of swordplay, scheming, and how to see through your opponents.

Developmental Psychology

Oak is the youngest and only brother of Jude’s; he is 7 years old in the first book of the series. In Piaget’s terms, he is in the concrete operational stage. Oak is in the age range for concrete operational stage, but also, he has trouble understanding the complexities of what is going on around him at the end of the book with the issue of who will be king. In Erikson’s terms, Oak is in the industry vs. Inferiority stage. Again, Oak is in the age range for Industry vs. Inferiority, but also throughout each of the books he tries to apply himself to be like Jude and protect his family, specifically his adoptive mother, Oriana. And finally, in Kohlberg’s terms, Oak is in the preconventional morality stage. Again, he is in the correct age range, but also, Jude mentions that once, Oak repeatedly made Jude hit herself with glamour, which is faerie magic that can make humans do whatever they tell them to, and he only stopped and felt bad once he got in trouble and scolded for it.

Madoc is the grand general and Jude’s adoptive father, his age is never mentioned but it's implied that he’s in his 40s-50s. In Erikson’s terms, Madoc is in the Generativity vs. Stagnation stage. He not only fits in the age range, but he strives to make an impact and enforce his ideals. In Kohlberg’s terms, Madoc is in the postconventional morality stage. Madoc runs by his own ideals and doesn’t adhere to the laws of the Faerie world; he does as he pleases and avoids the consequences as best he can.

Motivation, Emotion, Stress, and Personality

Openness refers to how open-minded, creative, imaginative, and insightful someone can be. Heather, who is Vivi’s human girlfriend, is very high on openness. She constantly sees through Jude’s barriers and checks in on her when she can.

Conscientiousness refers to how competent, self-disciplined, and goal-driven someone can be. Jude was first determined to become a knight, and when that was officially shut down, she became a spy, and throughout the book she dedicates herself to being the best spy she can be, leading her to practice mithridatism, otherwise known as ingesting poisons to gain an immunity. And even when she was working together with Cardan and the court of shadows, she dedicated herself to keeping Oak, her youngest brother, who was secretly the son of Dain, safe, and to getting Cardan on the throne.

Extraversion refers to how sociable someone is and how well they can express emotions. Locke, who is one of Cardan’s friends, who ends up marrying Taryn, Jude’s twin, has a talent for persuasion and charm. He uses this to his advantage to stir up drama in Elfhame.

Agreeableness refers to how cooperative someone is, as well as a person’s ability to put others’ needs before their own. Vivi, Jude’s older sister, has low agreeableness. She usually only thinks about herself, and never witnesses or realizes how her mortal sisters suffer in the Faerie world, since she is accepted as half-fae.

Neuroticism refers to a person’s tendency to having unstable emotions. Cardan has low neuroticism, he is always seen relatively calm and relaxed, as if nothing could hurt him. However, it is seen as somewhat of an act to Jude and he really isn’t as calm as he portrays.

The incentive theory is the theory that we are pulled by incentives, or external stimuli that motivate us, to behave in a certain manner. Jude is constantly motivated by external stimuli, whether it is the possibility of danger for her family, her pact as a spy to Dain, or wanting to be accepted by the Fae.

Clinical Psychology

Cardan shows behaviors that could be used as diagnostic criteria for antisocial personality disorder. These behaviors include “failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors,” and a “lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to... having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another,” (American Psychiatric Association). Cardan is constantly mentioned to be harassing different, lower-class fae, one of them being a faerie boy of whom cardan and his friends ripped the wings off with no remorse. Cardan also “frequently [lacks] empathy and [tends] to be.... contemptuous of the feelings, rights, and sufferings of others.” He also has “an inflated and arrogant self-appraisal,” which is seen multiple times throughout the book by him demanding respect and praise from the rest of the Fae. Talk therapy is most commonly used for treating antisocial personality disorder as there is no specific medication to treat antisocial personality disorder. However, some health care providers prescribe medications to help with other conditions that may occur with antisocial personality disorder, such as anxiety, depression, or symptoms of aggression (Mayo Clinic).

Social Psychology

Jude and Cardan’s relationship builds tension throughout the book until they are forced to work together to make sure Balekin doesn’t become High King. The rules of attraction are proximity, familiarity, and physical attractiveness. The rule of proximity is that the closer together people are physically, the more likely they are to form a relationship, the rule of familiarity is that we tend to like things as they become familiar, as they produce more positive feelings and seem safer, and the rule of physical attractiveness is that people tend to like those whom they find physically attractive. Once Cardan and Jude are thrown together after Dain’s failed coronation, they spend tons of time together, forcing their proximity to each other as well familiarity. The more Jude spends time with Cardan she realizes that his cruel demeanor is mostly just an act, and she begins to enjoy his company for the first time. For the rule of physical attractiveness, each of them mentions how attractive the other is, but in ways that hide their true feelings, such as Cardan saying, “Have I told you how hideous you look tonight?” and when Jude says, “No.. Tell me.” he responds with, “I cannot,” because fairies cannot lie (357).

Obedience is changing one’s behavior at the direct command of an authority figure or person with social power. Up until Dain’s coronation where he is killed, Jude follows Dain’s orders for her as a spy to the best of her ability. Occasionally, she questions his judgement, but overall, she usually listens to him.

Conformity is when a person adjusts their attitude, beliefs, and behaviors to adhere to group norms. Taryn, Jude’s sister, begs Jude to conform and not stand out among the Fae, but even without her twin, Taryn conforms the best she can as a mortal. She tries her best to act and live like the Fae.

Group Polarization is when group members’ decisions and opinions become more extreme together rather than alone. You can see this in “The Cruel Prince,” in Cardan’s friend group. In the beginning, at a ball, Cardan and his friends are seen tormenting lower class fae, even going as far as ripping off one faerie boy’s wings. However, separately, besides from Valerian, they are slightly less cruel apart than together.

Fundamental attribution error is our tendency to underestimate the impact of situational factors and overestimate the impact of dispositional factors when assessing why other people act the way they do. Jude makes the fundamental attribution error, when she learns that Nicasia cheated on Cardan with Locke and assumes she did it because she’s a mean person. However, Nicasia, was under the influence of faerie fruit (basically a drug in this world) and was not thinking clearly.

Superordinate goals are shared goals that override differences among people and require their cooperation. In “The Cruel Prince,” Jude and Cardan, who are enemies throughout the book, must work together to make sure Balekin does not rule and become High King. They successfully do so, and in the next books of the series continue to work together and fall in love.

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Sixteen

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: Together, you and Aleksander journey to the monastery of Sankt Feliks. To mend the tear at the making, a sacrifice from one of you is required.

Warnings: canon level violence, small amount of blood, the reader goes through a painful altercation (I really hope that what I’ve come up with makes sense because it could be possible canonically but canon doesn’t really make sense either).

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

Aleksander extends a hand to you, as your ankle nearly twists when you step on a rather loose rock. He holds tightly onto you, urging you closer so that he can steady your body with his own.

The walk to Sankt Feliks’ monastery was precarious, and you had needed to abandon your horses nearly an hour ago. Aleksander had gifted you a beautiful white mare named Luna for the journey. She hadn’t seemed too upset by being left tied to a tree further down the mountain, free to graze alongside Nocturne.

As you’re walking, you can’t help but compare this moment to the scene in the books. Aleksander had been the one leading the group, just as he is now.

In the books, he had been wearing tattered robes, his hands had been bound to prevent him from summoning, and he was flanked by sun soldiers. He had been the enemy then.

The Aleksander holding onto your hand is almost the polar opposite of that man. He’s wearing his fur collared cloak, to shield him from the cold of the mountain air. The two of you are surrounded by friends - the Grisha you trusted most to accompany you.

There’s a small glow of pride in your chest, that you are the reason why everything is different. If everything goes wrong now, and you fall at the last hurdle, you know that you’ve already changed this world - and Aleksander’s life - for the better.

The monastery appears almost from nowhere. One moment you’re watching your feet as you nearly stumble over another boulder, the next, Aleksander has stopped and you’re staring up at a series of large stone arches carved into the rock face.

There’s no door, only a small dark tunnel.

“Wait here.” Aleksander instructs your group.

Zoya and Ivan both look ready to disagree with him, but Aleksander gives them both a firm look, whilst you nod and smile reassuringly.

“We shouldn’t be long.” You add.

As Aleksander steps forward into the entrance, you’re reminded of the tunnel underneath Ulla’s chapel. Just as he did then, Aleksander keeps his fingers curled around yours, and you can feel his shadows clinging close as you walk over the uneven ground.

You aren’t walking for long before you step out into cold sunlight once again. The monastery has no ceiling, though some shelter is provided by the huge branches that sway overhead.

Dark red buds adorn the winding arms of one central tree, with black thorns that are longer than your forearm. There’s a painful twist in your heart when you identify the tree.

This is the thornwood tree.

A woman steps out from the shadows. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly, and her features are sharp as she surveys you and Aleksander.

She bows lightly, before greeting you both in a language you don’t understand. Aleksander responds in what you assume is the same language. When he notices your frown, he dips his head down to inform you,

“Ancient Kaelish.” You hum in response.

“We know why you are here.” She says, her voice smooth and clear.

“We?” Aleksander remarks with a raised brow.

All around you, monks step out from shadowed nooks, flashes of red silk that soon surround you. Opening up your bag, you pull out the heart of Sankt Feliks.

“I believe this belongs to you.” You say, stepping towards her with more bravery than you feel.

She tilts her head aside as she looks at you.

“You’re not from this world, are you?”

You raise your chin, swallowing down your fear.

“No. I’m not.”

She steps closer, moving her hands slowly towards the heart. As she takes it in her hands, you say,

“I think it can be used to mend the making.”

“Mending the tear will demand a sacrifice from one of you.” She says lightly, her eyes remaining fixed on the heart as she turns it over in her hands.

“One of us?” Aleksander asks. She turns to face him.

“You have a heart strong enough to hold the tear in the making closed.” You know what that means and you shiver at the thought of Aleksander suffering for eternity. “To do so, you must stand at the doorway between worlds forever.”

You haven’t come all this way for Aleksander to suffer a fate worse than death. The monk’s words play over in your mind - one of you. Meaning that you also have a price to pay, instead of Aleksander.

“What about me?” You say.

Aleksander turns to look at you with widened eyes, and for a moment he looks frightened, as the monk studies you.

“You have the making of two worlds inside you. The tear is what brought you into this world, and it must be mended from one side.”

Looking over at the broken gap at the base of the thornwood’s trunk, you frown before you ask quietly,

“You mean I can go back to my world?”

She nods.

“But you will never be able to return to this one.”

The thought of leaving Aleksander behind, and never seeing him again tugs hard at your heartstrings. After all you’ve been through, you can’t even consider such a thing.

“And if I mend the tear from this side?”

“You will sever the connection you have with the world you were born in.”

You frown.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you will remain exactly as you are now.”

Turning towards her, your frown deepens.

“For how long?”

She doesn’t respond, merely glancing over at Aleksander before her gaze settles back onto you. Somehow, he seems to understand what this means.

“Forever.” Aleksander says in explanation. You turn to him.

“Forever?” You whisper.

The idea of living forever is a baffling concept. Especially for an ordinary otkazat’sya like you, who is from a world where no one lives forever.

You straighten, nodding.

“Well, it’s obvious what we have to do then.” You say, bending down to discard your bag in preparation of whatever you need to do in order to mend the tear.

“Don’t rush into this.” Aleksander warns you, curling his fingers around your wrist. “Forever is a long time.” He adds softly. “Alina didn’t want it.”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. You can see the worry there - that you might be making a decision you’ll regret. Forever is a long time, especially for regrets. But you’ve already made up your mind.

You place your own hand over his, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze as you tell him,

“Alina didn’t have you. I do.”

He smiles softly, nodding in agreement.

“You do.”

With a determined expression, you turn back to the monk.

“What do I have to do?” You ask her.

“The heart must be blessed with your blood, before it can be returned to the thornwood.”

She retrieves a knife from between the folds of her crimson robes, and a touch of fear settles into your heart. The monks unnerve you, and the idea of one of them coming near you with a knife isn’t pleasant.

“May I?” Aleksander asks her, holding out his hand for the knife. She gives it to him.

You swallow nervously as you eye the blade, but Aleksander keeps his eyes firmly on the monk.

“How much blood?” He asks. She turns snapping her fingers, and another monk appears at her side.

He’s young, with dark eyes and a mop of curly blonde locks adorning the top of his head, and his face flushes red as he scrambles to flick frantically through the pages of the book in his hand.

Then he turns it around, displaying a page with a symbol painted over it.

“Enough to draw this onto the heart.” She says.

Aleksander nods.

Then he takes your hand delicately in his own, encouraging you to hold your pointer finger out with the soft tip facing skyward.

“Monk’s always go too far with their ceremonial blood drawings.” Aleksander mumbles, and you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “Wholly unnecessary, and rather messy.”

Aleksander seems nervous as well, as his rambling halts and he inhales slowly. His voice softens as he adds,

“This shouldn’t hurt too much, my love.”

“Aleksander.” You say in a small voice. He looks up at you sharply, his motions frozen in an instant. “I love you.”

He smiles softly.

“And I love you. Are you ready?”

You nod.

He slices the tip of your finger with the knife, enough to draw a small amount of blood with only a sharp sting of pain.

Eyes on the symbol in the book, you trace your bleeding finger over the hardened wood-like material of the heart. The monk watches intently, and once you’re finished she nods in satisfaction.

“Now return it to the making.” When you look over at the thornwood and hesitate, she adds, “It will hurt.”

Both you and Aleksander turn sharply to look at her.

“But not, ‘suffering for eternity’ level of hurt, though?” You prompt, brows furrowed as you stare at her. “Right?”

“Less than holding the door between the worlds together for eternity, yes.”

Aleksander looks unconvinced by the monk’s words, and he eyes you carefully as he waits for your reaction. You have a feeling that if you said no, he wouldn’t mind. That he would ensure that the two of you would find another way.

But you need to do this, despite your fear.

You nod.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

“I’m sure.”

Stepping forward, you climb over the gnarled roots towards the trunk of the thornwood. There’s a small area that looks as though it has been carved out, and you can only assume that is where the heart belongs.

Once you’ve placed it back with shaking hands, the monks approach, lying their own hands on the bark as you step away. They’re fabrikators, you remember, and they will ensure that the heart mends the tear at the making.

As you rejoin Aleksander, a pain wracks through your entire body and you collapse against him. He wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you upright, but when you groan lowly he quickly eases you both onto the floor.

It feels as though a part of you is being ripped away, slowly, inch by inch, and you grit your teeth as you struggle to process everything. Then a searing burning runs over your skin, as if the tear inside you is being sealed with a soldering iron.

Tears flood down your cheeks, as you fight to control your breathing. Aleksander holds onto you, allowing you to dig your nails into his clothes as you grip them tightly in an attempt to handle the pain.

Every bone in your body aches, and your muscles tighten uncomfortably as you gasp and writhe in pain.

Aleksander holds the back of your head, ensuring that you don’t thrash to the point of hurting yourself. You press your forehead hard against his shoulder, tears coating your face.

Then it stops.

Sweat glosses over your brow, and your tears begin to dry against your cheeks.

Aleksander’s hands cup your face delicately, tears welling in his own eyes. He can see the relief in your expression as he scours your face intently. It’s over. You’re alright now.

“I thought I told you to stop risking your life.” Aleksander remarks laughingly, though his voice is thick with emotion as your body collapses weakly against his.

“Did it work?” You ask, your voice hoarse.

The monk appears in the corner of your vision, and she gestures to the side of the courtyard.

“See for yourself.”

Aleksander helps you to your feet, and you hold onto him as you move over towards the thick stone wall. There’s a small gap, a window of sorts, carved into the side of the monastery.

As you peer through, all you see is clouds of white. The sunlight shines down, and a breeze scatters the cloud line. Then you see it.

What had once been the blackened sand of the unsea, stained by centuries of darkness, is now a vivid burst of green. The Tula Valley has been revived. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at it. Then you look at Aleksander.

A tear traces its way down his cheek.

He looks down at you and his face breaks into a smile of pure elation. Aleksander scoops you up into his arms, twirling the two of you around as he laughs in disbelief. You cling to him, his laughter infectious. You did it.

Then he kisses you.

Warmth spreads through your chest, and you feel as though you could burst with happiness. Aleksander drops his head down further, kissing you with every ounce of feeling he has. The fear of losing you, the distress of seeing you in pain, the joy of knowing that you succeeded.

A thrill runs through the entirety of your body, and when Aleksander’s lips leave yours you’re glad he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead against your own. Then a bright red petal falls into his hair.

You frown, picking the delicate portion of flower from his dark locks. The two of you look up, and the thornwood is in full bloom.

Sliding your hand through Aleksander’s hair, you ruffle it affectionately in an attempt to shake the gathering petals away with a soft laugh. The adoring look in his eyes has emotion swelling in your chest. A look of surprise crosses over his features, and you frown.

Following his gaze, you watch as vines slowly creep over the nearest root of the thornwood, decorating the dark wood with a luscious green that begins to grow delicate buds as you watch it.

“The thornwood has not bloomed this brightly for several centuries.” The monk states, her voice filled with awe.

All around you, the monks drop to their knees. Some of them pray openly, and you see one or two them with tears in their eyes.

“You have received the blessing of Sankt Feliks.” She says, looking directly at you.

Glancing over at Aleksander, your eyes wide with confusion, he appears to be lost in thought.

“I did this?”

He nods slowly.

“How?”

He ponders your question for a long moment.

“You have the making of two worlds in you. Cutting the connection with your own world, must have strengthened your connection to this one.”

“So I’m Grisha?”

Aleksander takes your hand carefully, his brows furrowed. You still don’t feel that sense of certainty, and Aleksander’s expression doesn’t change. He shakes his head.

“I can’t feel anything.”

“Our saint has given you the gift of creation itself.” The monk explains.

You frown. The only form of creation you know is the forbidden science - abomination.

“Merzost?” She shakes her head.

“Something far older. The same matter that holds the universe intact.”

“I understand now.” Aleksander says quietly, and you turn to him with confusion in your eyes. “Morozova’s amplifiers were drawn to you, because your connection to the making is deeper than any other Grisha.”

He traces his fingers over your cheek, his eyes filled with awe as he looks at you.

“The power of pure creation. They recognised themselves in you.”

“Sankt Feliks could grow crops even in the harshest of winters.” You recall. Aleksander had told you the story of Sankt Feliks, many months ago.

Aleksander nods.

“You have the same power as him.”

Before you leave, the monks are all eager to give you their well wishes and prayers. A few of them reach towards you, and you let them clasp your hand between their own.

Aleksander sets his hand at your lower back, guiding you forwards as you head back along the tunnel to return to your group.

You can hear their excited voices as they look down the mountain range, where the Tula Valley is now in the full bloom of summer for the first time in centuries.

Once again, you almost tumble as you step on a loose stone, which catches the attention of your group. They turn to face you both, relief and joy filling their expressions.

“You did it!” Zoya exclaims, rushing towards you and throwing her arms around you. You grip tightly onto her, as your relief finally settles in.

Zoya’s family lives in Novokribirsk. Now she can visit them whenever she wants to.

A small sob wells in your throat as you bury your face into her hair. Despite your new power, and immortality, you’re still aching and exhausted. She pulls back searching your tear filled eyes.

“There weren’t any creepy monks I have to go put in their place, were there?”

You laugh, which causes a few tears to spill out as you admit,

“There were some creepy monks, but I think we’re friends now.” She raises a brow.

“You better not have replaced me.”

The two of you smile widely as you shake your head.

“Never.”

Aleksander settles his hand back against your spine, and he murmurs softly,

“Let’s get you checked over.”

You nod.

Zoya wraps her arm around your waist, helping you walk over the uneven ground as Aleksander hovers closely behind, his fingers lingering on the space between your shoulder blades.

Fedoyr examines you once you’re settled onto a large boulder.

As always, the process of being healed is uncomfortable, the feeling of itching as your pain is removed. Usually you don’t mind the feeling, but when every bone and muscle in your body requires some healing, it’s quite unpleasant.

Aleksander cradles the back of your head as he sits beside you, and a few tears escape your eyes as you press your face against his shoulder.

Once Fedoyr has finished, you sigh in relief.

“Thank you, Fedoyr.”

He nods, giving you a smile.

“My pleasure. Well done.”

He bows lightly, and moves back towards the rest of the group. For a moment, you and Aleksander are quiet, and you simply enjoying being safe in his arms. The sun is shining down, and despite the cool breeze, you no longer feel cold.

“Are you alright now?” He asks softly.

You smile at him.

“Ravka is on the brink of rebirth. I have an incredible power, and I’m going to live forever. Not to mention I have you.”

Leaning forward, you kiss him tenderly.

“I’ve never been better.” You assure him.

Aleksander cups your face in his hands, and kisses you. You’re both smiling against one another’s lips, and your heart sings with love for him. Then you hear Zoya speaking,

“I don’t mean to interrupt a happy moment, but…”

You look down at where Zoya is staring, and you notice a carpet of delicate flowers slowly growing over the rocks around you and Aleksander. Warmth spreads over your cheeks.

“I should probably figure out how to control that.” You remark sheepishly. Aleksander hums with a soft smile on his face as he brushes his knuckles over your cheek.

“I will help you.”

“You’re Grisha now?” Zoya says with a hopeful smile. You nod and her smile widens. “You’re sitting with me during lunch.”

“With the summoners?” Fedoyr protests with a frown. Zoya points down to the patch of flowers that continue to bloom.

“The flowers were summoned.”

“Corporalki is the order of the living and dead. Plants are living.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Aleksander chuckles quietly, sliding an arm around your waist as he guides the two of you into standing, and you begin to walk further down the mountain.

“It appears your Grisha order has caused some contention.” Aleksander remarks and you laugh softly.

“I wonder what colour kefta I will have.”

Aleksander frowns, and you could say that he almost looks offended.

“It will be black of course.”

Warmth spreads over your cheeks, and giddy excitement fills you at the thought of wearing a black kefta as you stand by Aleksander’s side.

“You’re sure?” You ask, even though you know what his answer will be.

“Indefinitely.”

»»---------------------►

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