#i just saw lightning in the sky in a quick flash.

[florencemtrash]

Club Rats and Cigarettes: Part I

Azriel x Modern Reader

Summary: When Azriel stumbles into a new world with his brothers, the last thing he expects to find is a mate. But she has a hell of a way of making a first impression, and Azriel can't help but fall in love with someone who feels familiar in a strange world.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of drug use

Masterlist of Masterlists

Author's note: I had a thought. I wrote it. Here ya go!

Y/n leaned back against the motley wall covered in indie movie and band posters 10-layers deep. Humidity caused the paper to lift away from the brick, curling like steam off coffee before being frozen in place by the next slather of paste. Y/n felt the sharp, glue-soaked edges poke through the mesh of her shirt. 

Looking left and right she saw a few stragglers heading towards the club — three girls huddled in fake-fur coats with freshly-shaved legs trembling in the October air, and a group of college boys dressed in the same jeans, sneakers, and pale collared shirts. They flickered in and out of the darkness as the streetlights hummed with the effort of keeping their failing bulbs alight. A handful of skeletal cars sat beside busted parking meters or half-hidden in the employee parking lots of the closed down street. During the day when the restaurants were open, inoffensive jazz battled it out with the reggaeton blaring from the trendy taco joint at the end of the block, and Kpop dancers pressed themselves against the screens posted by the corn dog restaurant’s windows, neon lights announcing that they were “OPEN!” But right now the neon was just another sad shade of grey. Even the sky’s colors were muted by packed clouds threatening rain. 

Music shook the pavement, but it came up from the sub-basement club deep and muffled. Y/n felt its vibrations pass through the soles of her boots, up her stocking-clad legs, and into her chest where her heart rumbled like a car without a muffler. 

A flash of flame revealed her glitter-coated cheeks and cobalt-blue eyeshadow. The color slipped and slid across her skin still tacky from club sweat until it was a pale wash of blue extending up to her temples and down to her cheekbones. A cloud of smoke covered her soon after as she lit her cigarette between nail-bitten fingers. A fresh coat of black polish glittered like stones, already chipping towards the tips. Menthol crisp bled into her lungs along with a breath of cold air perfumed with car exhaust and day old restaurant grease. She licked her lips and found that she did not mind the taste of lip gloss, mint, and char. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a boy with salt-white hair and shy, bent shoulders slink over to her trying to make himself as small as possible. “Can I bum a cigarette?” He asked, shockingly polite despite the black band t-shirt that read “Anarchy now!” and the careful spikes gelled into his hair and tipped green and black. 

Y/n wordlessly held out her pack and he plucked one out before hesitantly reaching for a second. She held out her lighter next and soon there were two plumes of smoke wafting into the air as music faded in and out with each body that passed through the rusted paint doors. Drunk giggles followed voices hoarse with drink and screaming. Heels clicked down the street, some heavy as a bass drum and others high and piercing like castanets. 

A quick flash of lightning splintered over the sky, followed seconds later by a dull crash like furniture toppling over. 

“One mile,” The boy said, leaning over. He smelled like bleach, aftershave, and surprisingly, cherries. The overly sweet ones that came out of a jar and decorated the tops of ice cream sundaes. 

“What?”

“You can count how far away lightning is from the thunder. Every five seconds between lightning and thunder is one mile.” 

Another flash painted the sky purple followed shortly by crumbled eruptions of noise. 

“That one was close by.” 

Y/n took one last drag before putting out her cigarette on the wall. The paper smoldered and was scarred black, but never burned. “Guess that’s my cue to go back inside then.” 

The boy nodded, smiling and looking her up and down a little too closely. Then his eyes sharpened, red-rimmed and squinting, as he glared into the street beyond her. 

“Do you see that?”  

Y/n twirled around on her heels, staring down the street to where it ended in shadow. It looked… darker than it should, although she couldn’t explain why. Like she stood before the throat of an animal. The darkness seemed to pulse and writhe, muscles clenching down on invisible meat. Then she felt stupid for having listened to him at all. 

“Don’t fuck with me,” she growled, pushing the salt-haired boy aside and slipping back inside the club. 

The music and heady scent of perfumes, cologne, and sweat punched her in the face, and she remembered why she’d chosen to stumble outside to begin with.

She moved in between bodies sparkling like disco balls, stealing body glitter as she went. She felt the tiny particles stick to her skin, tacky with sweat. Someone’s hand brushed against her wrist, but she swatted them off, pressing forward in search of her friends. She didn’t trust them to stay still, not in a place like this, nor did she trust them to check their phones, so she just kept searching the packed dance floor. Raised platforms crowded with plastic couches and spray painted tables hit her at eye level, but none of the platform heels and combat boots looked familiar. She thought a head of red corkscrews might have belonged to Cecelia, but it was only the changing lights reflecting off bleach blond hair. 

She dipped into the corner where a line of scantily clad girls with lanky legs waited for the bathroom. Ducking beneath the overhead speakers helped dull the noise, and if she climbed up two rungs of the barrier surrounding the DJ’s booth like a fighting ring, she could make out more of the crowd. Four stationary spotlights lit up the corners of the club pulsing red, blue, pink, and purple. A man in leopard print briefs was climbing onto one of the poles there, shredding his policeman’s shirt down the center as a woman in a zebra-print coat eagerly shoved a handful of dollar bills into his underwear. A drag king had his hot pink fedora knocked off by a drunk college student stumbling towards the bathrooms with a hand over his mouth. All over there were faint pinpricks of light followed by subtle releases of vape pen air, adding hints of watermelon and strawberry to the air. 

It was because she stood half-hanging off the DJ’s booth that she caught sight of the three men that entered one after another like the mob. Dressed in all black, they were better suited for a funeral than a club, save for one thing… their wings. 

Y/n blinked in confusion. There had been flyers hung up around the library and grocery stores about some anime convention being held in the city, but this place was a little out of the way for hardcore cosplayers. The most severe looking of the three lifted his nose to the air, then stumbled back in shock. As the strobe lights passed over his awe-struck expression, Y/n caught the glint of knives sheathed across his chest and at his side. 

Fuck. She looked up to the booth, but the DJ and the guys in ripped t-shirts bobbing their heads around him didn’t seem to notice. 

“Hey!” She dropped back onto the floor and tapped the shoulder of a barrel-chested man with the word “security” printed over his shirt in all caps. “I think those three guys brought knives in here.” She pointed in their general direction with one chipped, black fingernail. 

“The fuck?!” He gently pushed her aside, shouting something into his earpiece as he shoved his way into the crowd. People took a second to read the sign on his shirt before parting to make way for him. One guy with bright pink hair and studded lips even tried to kiss him on the cheek as he passed. 

Suddenly, this corner of the club didn’t seem so safe anymore. There was a splash of pale light on the floor as a bottle girl in a black leather catsuit slipped out of the kitchens. She swayed her hips back and forth, a bottle of tequila swishing in its frost-rimmed bottle against her hip. She moved up the stairs to the platform where a private bachelor party was going on, heels clicking like beetle wings rubbing together. Y/n slipped into the shadows closer to the kitchens and waited for someone — anyone — to answer the text she’d typed out with shaky fingers. 

Azriel had never heard music like this before. He didn’t even know such a sound could exist. Someone had weaponized the bass tones so it felt like a punch to the gut. A male’s deep voice, grainy and harsh, was indistinguishable from the crashing of cymbals and a strange, high clang that skittered over steady drums like a stone over water. Through layers of sound he could just make out the soft sighs of a female as she tried to tie the chaos together with her voice. 

All around him were sweaty humans decorated in shiny, colorful clothes that sparkled as they spun and jerked about. He stood a head above most, although every so often a male or female in eight-inch heels would pass by at eye level, looking him up and down like he was a meal and they were starving. 

“Hey there handsome.” Someone had found the courage to slink up to Cassian’s side — a male with pupils blown open wide enough to swallow his pale blue irises. There was alcohol on his breath and something else, something sweet and bitter at the same time. The human male smiled, teeth white and straight. Azriel had never seen a human with teeth so perfect. He was handsome — wiry and slim with a flush to his cheeks that accentuated the smattering of freckles across his tan skin. “Did you come here alone?” Rhysand and Azriel’s presence did not seem to deter him. “Did you want to leave here alone?”

Cassian sputtered in surprise. He’d never been propositioned by a male, let alone a human one. 

“I’m-I’m a mated male.” 

The male raised his brow, taking full stock of the skin-tight leathers Cassian wore. He took a deep drag of an oddly shaped pipe that lit up in the dark. “Ok. If that’s what you’re into.” A cloud of smoke spilled from his mouth — the source of the sweet and bitter smell on his lips. His eyes slid over to Rhysand, who only smirked and stuck a hand into his pocket. “And you? It doesn’t look like you’re into the leather stuff.” Then he seemed to reconsider what he’d said, looking between Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel like he’d figured out the final piece of the puzzle. He blinked in surprise, tipped back his head, and laughed. He was still laughing as he turned and walked away into the crowd. 

“What the hell was that?” Cassian asked. Azriel shrugged, shaking his head. 

“It’s a strange place we’ve landed in,” Rhysand remarked, although the comment was unnecessary. “I expect the strangeness touches everything here. Even the people.” He marveled at the scene before him. The only comparable place in Prythian was Rita’s, but even that paled in comparison to the sight before him. 

Rita’s was a pleasure house with music and drinks to spare, but everything here was… more. The music was louder, the smells an assault to the senses, and the lights changed every second and made the dancers flicker in and out of existence. Even the people seemed to have more substance to them, more color. 

Azriel loved it.

He loved the uneven floors that sucked at the bottoms of his shoes, the pulsing lights that made his eyes swim, and the sound blaring in his ears that drowned out all other thoughts. And something in the air smelled crisp and sweet to him, despite all the other competing scents that had Cassian and Rhysand wrinkling their nose in distaste. 

He strained his neck to catch better hold of the scent. His shadows clung to his body like children, hiding in the folds of his leathers. This world was not made for them, and they worried that if they strayed too far they would be left behind. 

Amren had warned them that this world was different, that its magic was different. But she hadn’t been here in thousands upon thousands of years. Who was to say what had changed in her absence and what had stayed the same?

Get in. Find what you need. Get out. Had been Nesta’s command before strumming The Harp. That’s how the three brothers had found themselves at the end of a narrow lane with boxes of metal and brick on either side. The club had been a logical next step — it was the only establishment that still whispered of life in the otherwise dead neighborhood. 

One shadow dared to explore the club, slipping past a broad-shouldered man with a scowling face and sniffing at half-full glasses of liquor with bright umbrellas laying against their salt-coated rims. Then it had caught sight of something that had it scurrying back to its master. 

Mate. The lone shadow hissed into Azriel’s ear. Mate. 

Azriel’s fluttering bird heart dove into his stomach, carrying with it all reason and restraint. There was no possible way… no. No? Right? 

Az? Rhysand steadied his brother as he stumbled back. 

She’s here? Azriel breathed. If it weren’t for his powers, Rhysand would never have heard the soft sigh escape Azriel’s lips as he searched the crowd desperately. Azriel tipped his head back, breathing in the comforting scent that held new meaning. My mate. She’s here.

What?!

Azriel ignored Rhys and dove into the crowd, head swiveling this way and that as he tried to find a familiar face he’d never seen before.

Az! Wait! But his brother was gone, and the crowd closed over the empty space he’d left behind like a healing wound. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Rhysand cursed. 

“Hey man! Where did you get your wings? They’re fucking awesome!” A plump male with cornflower blue hair and matching eyeliner piped up from behind Cassian’s back. Cassian whirled around in anger, feeling the ghost of a finger slide down his spine. No one touched his wings without his say. No one. 

The male startled back in fear. Upon seeing Cassian at his full height, he cowered against the wall, clutching a crinkled red cup against his chest. Cassian blinked in surprise. The male was wearing a black and white dress, the starched apron and collar crisp and clean. 

“Someone call the police. Now!” Someone hissed behind him.

“What seems to be the problem?” Rhysand spoke coolly. At the moment Cassian turned back to Rhysand, the maiden-male scuttled away and upstairs into the cold night. Rhysand examined his fingernails, an action that had the guard’s ruddy face turning white as he saw they were armed to the teeth.

The male’s arms hung loose and ready at his sides like two boulders, fists opening and closing slowly. “You guys need to leave. And before you say anything — I don’t give a shit if those weapons are fake or part of some Halloween costume, you can not bring them here.” 

“What fool would carry fake weapons?” Cassian asked seriously. 

The male’s face lost even more color. “Out. Now.” 

“There’s no need for—” Rhysand’s brows shot towards his hairline, violet eyes flickering up like a cat’s. Cassian, I can’t control him. 

His brother’s eyes widened. What do you mean? 

His mind — I can’t get into it. 

He’s only human!

Clearly.

The male moved forward then to grab at the knife hanging from Cassian’s side and on instinct, Cassian swung. His fist met the corner of the male’s jaw cleanly and he sank like a stone, crumbling to the floor. 

A female with glowing white lips nearby let out a strangled shriek, twisting her ankle as she grabbed her friend and sprinted towards the glowing red exit sign. All around her people began taking notice of the guard’s dark shape on the black floor and the two males that hovered over him, knives sparkling in the ever changing lights. 

I had hoped that the humans would not notice, Cassian explained. More alarmed cries erupted around them. He leaned down, carefully checking the male’s pulse. He was still alive, just knocked out cold. 

The music dimmed and then went out completely leaving an empty hole in the air that blew against the back of Cassian’s neck. Overhead lights turned on shortly after, burning with a fluorescence that had everyone hissing in pain. 

Things looked much better in the dark. In the dark no one noticed the sticky stains littering the floor, or the gum wrappers, and plastic straws, and crushed cups; the dusty strobe lights and haphazard paint jobs that left the walls bubbling with air pockets. They were also less likely to notice the three fae in their midst — 6-foot-everything and looking like they stepped out of the world’s most expensive LARPing tournament. It didn’t help that Cassian was kneeling over the man he just rendered unconscious. 

Confusion led to confused panicking, and then plain panic as people began pushing towards the exits in droves. 

I think they noticed. Rhysand looked over the crowd as they fluttered around him, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter anyone’s minds. Not even one. He didn’t like the oily vulnerability that followed, naked and unnerving. 

Cassian slung the unconscious male over his shoulder before he could be trampled beneath pairs of dusty white sneakers and stripper heels. Then it would seem it’s time for us to leave.

Where are you? Azriel cursed at no god in particular. He didn’t know which of them existed in this realm, if any did at all. 

This way. His shadows whispered, urging him towards the back corner of the club.

A battered door swung open and shut to the rhythms of females in skintight leather carrying chilled bottles in their hands. Thousands of signatures had been scrawled against the door in neon paint, and Azriel watched one of the females sign her name — Ava — in bright orange before kissing the door and slipping inside to grab another bottle. 

Just to the right of the door stood another female in ripped stockings. Bright blue glitter painted her eyes and cheeks. She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet, playing with a hole in her sleeve as she held a shiny black box up to her ear. 

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY LEFT?! I’M THE DESIGNATED DRIVER!” She yelled into the box. Her eyes kept shifting over the club. Her lipstick, already blurred from time and dancing, smeared further as she bit her lip. A swipe of her sleeve on her cheek left a faint trail of plum-colored lipstick. She slammed her finger down on the box and for one moment, the glow it let off shot across her eyes. She looked close to tears. 

Azriel froze, feeling a pressure in his chest tighten and then burst apart. He felt her fear — her anger at being abandoned by her so-called friends. It was more overwhelming than the music. If it weren’t for the thin crowd of strangers in front of him blocking his path, he might have dropped to his knees and crawled to her. 

Mate. The bond sang in his chest. Mate. 

Screams broke through the music, high and panicked, and the magic of the moment crashed all around him. The darkness broke, harsh white light colliding with them and rendering the glitters and colors the humans adorned pale and lifeless. But not his mate. She sparkled brighter in the resulting chaos, eyes narrowing in a dare as she caught Azriel staring. She was a prey animal ready to bolt. A worm preparing to turn and reveal its teeth. 

Sharp cracks of plastic on linoleum rattled the ground as leather-clad women sprinted for the kitchen door brandishing empty bottles like weapons. Y/n raced after them. 

The door flapped shut behind her before Azriel had the sense to move his feet and follow, calling out, “Wait! Please!” 

He was doing this very poorly. He knew better than to chase a female like this. Sickness twisted in his stomach as he slammed into metal doors and ran through hallways crowded with glass bottles, aluminum cans, and wrinkly lemons stacked precariously in wooden crates. 

To your right. A shadow whispered in his ear.

Azriel slid to a stop in front of a heavy metal door, its edges frosted over with cold. 

It locks from the outside.

Azriel ripped the door off its hinges and was blasted in the face by a wave of cold. Frigid air curled out of the edges of the room and slithered over the floor like smoke. A young female in a pink tutu yelped in surprise and dove for the corner of the room, hiding behind racks of beer bottles. It wasn’t his mate. 

She was just a frightened female who’d hidden in the fridge, not knowing she was trapping herself in the process. 

“Here.” Azriel said, quickly ripping a coat off the wall hook and tossing it towards her. She reached for it with shaking hands and lips, mumbling out a confused “Thank you?” as Azriel turned and hurried away. The door was no more. She could walk out of the freezer whenever she pleased now. 

Azriel chased after his mate’s scent, stumbling through grey, blank hallways that belonged to the insurance company next door. He strained his ears to hear the tell-tale pounding of her boots, but came up empty. A dull red light told Azriel to “EXIT” as he pushed against a door groaning from rust and disuse. 

He was outside once again, breathing in car exhaust and restaurant refuse.

And something sweet. 

He heard the rush of air a second too late. 

A bottle slammed into the side of his face, cracking and cutting his skin. Tequila washed over the wounds. It burned like a bitch. 

Azriel didn’t let out a groan of pain, but he did stumble, landing on his right knee with a twinge of soreness.

The female — his mate — stared at him in horror as blood began to pool at his temple and drip down the line of his jaw. She held the shattered neck of the bottle in her hands. Her shoes were gone, toes curling against the pavement with cold. 

Gods, she was beautiful. 

Cassian was a blur of movement, knocking the bottle out of her hand and wrapping his arms around her arms. She screamed, squatting down before shooting back up and locking her knees. The top of her head slammed into Cassian’s nose. A brutal, bloody crack had Cassian stumbling back, gripping his nose.

“FUCK!” He swore. 

She whipped around and sprayed a mist in his eyes that had him cursing like a madman and slapping the palms of his hands over his eyes. 

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” 

Rhysand stepped forward and cornered her against the wall. Violet eyes glittered with something bordering fury and amusement. 

“No.” Azriel moved between Rhys and his mate before she could spray him too. “No one touches her.” 

Rhys backed up immediately. This is her?

It’s her. 

He could hear her heartbeat quicker than a rabbit as she flattened herself against the wall, holding her spray out in warning. Cassian moaned in annoyance, wiping the tears that kept leaking out of his eyes.

I do not like the humans in this world. Cassian complained, sniffling. Even his nose burned.

As if Nesta wouldn’t have done this given the chance. Rhysand said. 

…I see your point. Cassian muttered. 

Be careful around this one. 

Because she’s a menace?

Rhysand smirked, flicking dust off the sleeve of his jacket. Because she’s Azriel’s mate.

Cassian straightened. His eyes darted back and forth between Rhysand, the blood dripping from Azriel’s head, and the human female. 

Oh. Cassian thought, suddenly embarrassed. We have… not made a good first impression. 

You think?! Azriel all but growled. 

Her fight or flight response was running out — her energy draining. She could feel it in her leaden limbs and the faint slowing of her heartbeat as the three men kept looking around like they were seeing each other for the first time. 

And they kept looking at her in mixtures of shock, concern, and — surprisingly — affection. 

What sick fuckery is this? She dug her fingernails into the brick, searching for cracks like she might be able to pull out a piece and throw it at them, or find some hidden portal through the wall and back into the safety of the inside. 

Were they going to kidnap her? Was she about to be shoved into a bag and tossed into some dingy trunk? But then why the wings? It was too dark to see them in their entirety, but they looked meticulous and expensive and very memorable — not ideal for kidnapping. Was this a LARPING thing? Were they Satanists? Was that how this worked?

The one in front turned. The one she’d attacked with a bargain bottle of tequila. The blood had stopped flowing and darkened against his tan skin. Hazel eyes, bright and piercing as a copper penny, looked out from a face made of elegant, serious lines. His was not a face that smiled often, beautiful as it was. The burly, rugged one looked like he was made for laughing. Smile lines gently graced his cheeks and temples. But maybe those were scars. He sported many of them, like pale whiskers over his skin. The third was the most put together of the three. Instead of strange, leather armor, he wore a suit of velvet over something stiff and protective that hugged his trim waist and broad shoulders, and his eyes were violet, not hazel. 

The elegant, unsmiling one coughed awkwardly, shifting to hide his wings. Shockingly, they slid closed behind his back, the movement so smooth it looked real. 

“I am…” His voice was a deep, gentle caress. “I am so very sorry. I did not mean to frighten you as I did. Please, forgive me.” He was… alarmingly polite, and his accent was… pleasant, although impossible to place — all soft rolls of the tongue complimented by the rich timbre of his voice. “ Please.” He spoke the last word quietly, urgently. 

Y/n said nothing. Her arm was beginning to get sore from holding out the bottle of pepper spray. Although, it can’t have been that effective if the rugged one was already recovered. Maybe it had expired without her realizing? 

“My name is Azriel,” the man spoke again quickly and gently. Even his name sounded odd. “And this is Cassian—” He pointed to the burly one,“And Rhysand.” The last of the men tilted his head in a mock bow. 

“A pleasure.” The violet-eyed one said. Rhysand’s voice was weighed down with sultry charm. He purred the words more than spoke them. 

“Pleasure,” Cassian copied, gruff but kind. 

Y/n remained silent. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. The pretty one — Azriel — stepped forward and pulled out a sleek, small blade from the belt about his waist. Y/n was about to spray him in the face when he twisted the blade so that the handle faced her.

“This will do more damage than the little bottle you carry,” he promised. “I hope this will make you more trusting of me. I swear to do you no harm. I’ll even make a bargain, if it would make you trust me long enough to explain.” His wings twitched nervously and Y/n found she couldn’t draw her eyes away from them and how real they looked. 

The three men kept looking at each other furtively. Conversations, complex and unknowable, hide in every twitch of their eyes.

“Speak out loud,” Azriel snarled at them finally. “You’re frightening her.” 

Rhysand smiled apologetically at the female. “We need to leave. Now. You can hear the humans coming as well as I can.” 

Y/n bristled at that, and a detached feeling of horror came over her. “Are you not… are you not human?” 

Cassian gawked at her, speaking his wings out far and wide. “Do the humans of this world have wings?” 

She sputtered to answer, fear giving way to curiosity. Azriel took advantage of that, moving close enough that he slid the blade into her hand. It was a cool, welcome weight against her hot, sweaty skin. Up close she saw he had freckles dotting the high corners of his cheeks and that his hair came alive with dark tendrils of smoke that wafted off his skin like steam. They wrapped around her and she heard their strange whispers in her ears like white noise. 

“We’re not human. We’re not even from this world.” The sirens were only a block away now and Azriel swore beneath his breath. More of those dark tendrils shot out like shadows and dulled the noises of incoming fire trucks, cop cars, and EMTs. “I swear to you that I will explain more, but we must go. Please.” He took hold of her wrist, angling the blade he’d given her right beneath his last rib. 

It was a dramatic declaration — if she wanted to kill him and run away, he would let her. 

Y/n swallowed thickly, her mind thick with fog and the dying embers of adrenaline. “I—I parked a few blocks down that way. I can take us somewhere else.” 

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief and she pulled away from him, taking with her any shred of comfort he’d felt since coming to this world. 

Somehow they managed to walk the quarter of a mile to her car without being stopped once by another living soul. She suspected it had to do with the shadows that now poured off of Azriel’s skin and trailed after her. She could feel them licking at her heels like curious dogs… or blood thirsty wolves. 

She gripped the knife tightly in her hand, stretching her fingers to wrap around the steering wheel as she drove through familiar roads on autopilot. Azriel watched her curiously as she stopped at a red light and clicked her blinker on. 

None of the men looked comfortable squished into her tiny sedan, wings tucked in so tight they cramped. Cassian’s boot was stretched out on the center console, almost reaching the gear shift. Rhysand was hunched over in the back seat, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the headrest in front of him to keep from getting sick. 

“What is this cursed thing?” He grumbled, then promptly shut up when Y/n took them down a local road with craters that had them jolting and jerking for a mile. “This metal box… I do not like it.” 

Azriel and Cassian ignored their brother. Az was too busy paying attention to his mate and politely explaining the complexity of their situation, and Cassian was too busy looking out the window at the houses that passed by. He could hear the unfamiliar hum of electricity like a dragonfly's wings. 

By the time she pulled the sedan down a beaten road to a quiet, homely one-bedroom house, her mind was swimming with words and phrases she could barely string together — Koschei, fae, Illyrians, seers. It was worse than when she’d spent two all-nighters cramming for an exam in college fueled by nothing but Red Bull and desperation. 

Before the keys were even out of the ignition, Rhysand was spilling out of the car and breathing in gasps of clean, woodsy air. Gravel crunched under his feet. Once this road had been paved, but time and weather had broken up the asphalt until only chunky black rocks remained. Green grass, not yet killed off by Autumn frost, grew in uneven tufts up to Y/n’s squat, brown-sided house, skirting around the makeshift garden in the backyard before disappearing into the woods beyond. Neighboring homes inched as close as they could to the main road, half-submerged in golden brown trees that trembled in the wind. 

The porch steps creaked, flexing in the center like backs ready to break, but they’d recently been cleaned and painted over with a fresh coat of white. The front door had been given similar treatment, although it was painted green. A small Autumn wreath hung from a nail. 

Y/n fumbled with the keys, fingers shaking and numb from the cold. 

“Here,” Azriel murmured, gently taking them from her. His shadows could have unlocked the front door in less than a second, but he was in no mood to test his mate’s patience and understanding. The fact that she’d driven them to her home in the dead of night was testament to the uneasy trust she’d placed in them. 

A disgruntled meow greeted them as they filed into the short and narrow entryway. Cassian bumped into the entry dresser with his wings and nearly jumped out of his skin when the dark monstrosity that sat by a ceramic dish full of rings hissed. 

It was the fattest cat Cassian had ever seen. 

Acidic yellow-green eyes narrowed at him, as if sensing his judgment, and the cat’s whiskers twitched along with its pink button nose. 

“Jefferson, be nice.” Y/n reprimanded the cat, scooping up its rotund body into her arms. The cat swatted her shoulder once, then consented to being held. He did not like strangers in his house, even if they were Y/n’s guests. “This is Jefferson.” She looked behind her back to the rest of the house. “And this is my home.” 

She busied herself preparing for her unexpected guests. She scoured the bathroom closet for spare toothbrushes, towels, and lotions, and pulled out the thickest blankets she could find. One person could sleep on the pull out couch, the other two would have to fight for the best spot on the floor. 

Azriel watched her as she moved. It was not a large house — it was barely even a cottage — and it took his shadows a short time to familiarize themselves with your home. 

A lumpy couch, wicker armchair, and coffee table made up the living room, tied together by a retro rug that may have once been white, but was now a respectable beige. Four mismatched chairs huddled around a scratched wooden table near the kitchen, one of which carried a stuffy cushion that held the imprint of Jefferson’s soft body. 

The cat watched them from the kitchen counter with its piercing eyes, and did not seem at all concerned when a stray shadow wound around its tail. 

Pathetic. All of them! Were the cat’s thoughts. Master will not like this.

His eyes did soften when Y/n returned from her bedroom, arms heavy with blankets and sheets and pillows. Azriel quickly relieved her of her burden, promising that they’d spent nights in worse conditions than a heated house with bedding and clean floors. 

She seemed charmed by that and almost smiled. Almost.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry, and the bathroom’s by the front door. I’ve already put some toothbrushes and towels in there if you need them.”

“Thank you,” Azriel said softly, tilting his head in a faint bow. His brothers followed suit before busying themselves laying out blankets and pillows like they’d done this a thousand times before — which they had. 

Y/n nodded curtly and swept a judgmental Jefferson into her arms before disappearing into her room. Azriel heard the lock click into place and the rummaging of drawers as she pulled out an extra can of pepper spray, a pair of scissors, and the three knives she’d taken from the kitchen. She bolted her windows and drew the curtains closed and even stuffed a towel into the space beneath her doors just in case.  

She was meticulous and careful despite her generosity, and Azriel found himself smitten at her resourcefulness. 

Stop thinking about her and go the fuck to sleep, Az. Cassian grumbled. He could feel the longing dripping off of Azriel’s shoulders. She’ll feel more comfortable if she knows we’re asleep. 

How much would you like to bet she kills us in the night? Rhysand asked, and then seemed amused by the prospect of it. 

I’d worry more about the cat. Cassian chuckled. Then he turned over onto his stomach and was out like a light. Centuries spent in war camp barracks and makeshift battlefield tents had taught him to steal sleep wherever and whenever he could. 

Rhysand was quick to follow suit, although centuries as a High Lord had pampered him just a little. 

Azriel stayed awake, waiting to hear your heartbeat and breathing slow to a comfortable pace. But it never happened. Not even as the sunlight trickled in and touched the light-bleached floors. 

[wolfsbanesparks]

Trick or Treat 👻 :D

One of the JL members sees Marvel at an elementary school?

Happy Halloween! And yay my first prompt!

Barry was starving, not unusual really, but he was still a few states away from home and figured stopping for a quick bite to eat was always a good idea. He couldn't fight crime if he went into a hypoglycemic coma in the middle of a deserted stretch of highway!

And where better to stop than Fawcett City? The food was cheap, delicious, and occasionally pumped full of magic. All he had to do was find that one taco struck Cap had showed him last time he was in town and--

Barry skidded to a halt when he saw a flash of lightning overhead. He couldn't see the source--the sky was perfectly clear--which could only mean one thing: Captain Marvel was somewhere nearby.

He spun around in a circle until he spotted the familiar hulking figure in red right outside of what looked like a school. An elementary school based on the playground equipment and cutesy signs everywhere.

"Cap!" he called out before zipping across the parking lot to him. "Whatcha doing here?"

Marvel froze at his voice, his eyes wide and oddly guilty. "Flash?"

"In the flesh," he laughed. "You doing an assembly or something?" he asked gesturing to the school.

Marvel spluttered for a moment. He seemed uncharacteristically nervous despite the clear lack of danger. "I was just saying hi to some kids I know. I thought they might be out at recess but I guess not." He laughed awkwardly.

"I bet the kids love that," he said. "Are they kids you've met through heroing?"

He was saved from having to answer by the loud ringing of the school bell. Within moments kids came flooding out of the school, screaming and laughing.

One kid shouted out, "Look it's Captain Marvel!" In a blink of an eye the two were swarmed by kids eager for the chance to meet their heroes. Barry soon forgot about Cap's odd behavior, too busy showing off for their excitable audience and getting directions to some of the best tacos he's ever had.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the busted engine

lilac, chapter one

a/n: the plot of this series came to me like fucking lightning, essentially all at once with how quick it fell into place. sometimes it's like that, sometimes magic happens in your brain. I hope you all enjoy this ride as much as I am having writing it. get ready for everything, because I've got twenty chapters planned out and ready, and spoiler, they aren't all just gonna be insanely wholesome small town cuteness... we getting angsty... we getting the drama.... but most of all, we be getting slutty. strap in folks.

summary: “I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, car trouble, meet cute

word count: 2674

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Your vision couldn’t help but linger every time it drifted over your hands gripping the steering wheel. The immense weight the sight of your bare ring finger lifted off your shoulders was so overwhelming that you found yourself fighting tears from blurring the road before you. 

The sun was beginning to set as you had been driving all day long, not stopped for even a second to let the gravitas sink in of what you’d done at the crack of dawn. 

The fear of Preston stirring from his slumber and finding you in the midst of sneaking out still hadn’t settled within your gut. Your paranoid brain still compelled you to check the rear-view mirror every couple of seconds just in case the sleek sportscar of your former fiancé would appear.

You had finally done what he had drilled into your mind you weren’t capable of. You’d left him for good. 

Equipped with only a small backpack of your belongings, the last thing you’d done before sneaking out of the apartment had been to toss the ring he had so insistently forced upon your finger into the trash. 

Ripping you out of your cloudy thoughts, your car suddenly began to cough like a mythical monster that was dying. 

“Oh shit…” you felt the vehicle begin to slow as ominous smoke started to billow out from under the hood. Mindful of the bushy pine trees framing the road, you guided it to the edge just in time before it gave out. 

Stepping out with an exhausted sigh, you promptly cracked the front open to take a look, though what you saw within didn’t soothe your worries as all of the fumes oozing out only made the broken engine look like that much more of a mess. 

“Fucking great,” you mumbled heatedly, fiercely slamming the hood shut in an effort to relieve some of your abundant stress. Curving back around, you swung the passenger side open and rummaged for your phone, though when you located it, the only solution it flashed you was a blinking red battery icon before the screen went completely black, “seriously?” 

Not knowing if you were about to scream or burst into tears, you chucked it back inside before hurling your spine against the side of the car, leaning against it as you cursed up at the grey sky. 

Was this the universe showing its true bias? You’d hoped that was the one thing money couldn’t buy, but perhaps you were wrong, just like he always said you were. Perhaps it would be best if you went back to the city. His reaction towards a stunt like this couldn’t be that bad compared to what you had endured before, could it? 

The sound of another vehicle cresting the thicket on the rural road caught your ears and you turned your head to see a navy-blue truck appear.

Your hand shot up to wave it down before you could even ponder the action. Fearing that it was a lost cause by the speed the driver was going at, it caught you by surprise as it suddenly came to a halt a ways in front of you. 

“Are you alright, ma'am?” the driver asked as he slammed his door shut behind him. The tall man certainly looked like the type to call the area his home. Dark beard scraggly and hair in unkept waves long enough to tickle the furrow lines decorating his forehead, his wide palm traced the lines of the truck as he made his way towards you.

“I, um,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bundles of firewood needly stacked in the back of the pickup, “my car broke down and my phone conveniently also decided to run out of battery, so, uh, could I perhaps borrow yours just a moment? I just need it to make one call, that’s it.”

Eyeing your busted vehicle a moment, his low timbre then rumbled out once more, “sure,” as he reached into his pocket and fished out his telephone.

“Thank you so much,” seizing it, you swiftly clicked it to life, “you have no idea what a lifesaver you are–, oh fuck,” your vision zeroed in on the lack of bars in the uppermost corner, “of course there’s no fucking services out here,” your eyes briefly screwed shut and your jaw clenched in an effort not to scream, “it’s fine, it’s fine! I’ll just walk then!” you tried not the throw it as you handed the phone back to the helpful stranger, “I’m sorry that you had to stop for nothing, but thank you anyways.”

Swinging your door open to yank out your stuff, the stranger’s feet stayed fast, “what direction are you headed?” 

“Dunbrook,” you answered as your body folded to reach your tossed telephone.

“You wanna catch a ride?” he unexpectedly offered, causing you to bump your head on the roof of the car.

“Ow–, what?” you blinked back at him through the windshield as your hand shot up to rub the top of your now sore head, “no, I couldn’t… I–, uh, I kinda recognise this area, the town is not too far from here, so I can walk, it’s fine.”

“Yeah, but it’ll properly still take you all night. Please, it’s no bother, I’m headed in that direction anyways.” 

Gnawing at your bottom lip, you slowly retracted out of the vehicle, “you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, attempting a faint smile in order to soften his gruff and intimidating features. 

“Alright,” swinging your backpack on you slammed your busted car shut, “thank you.”

Sliding into the passenger seat, you clicked on the seatbelt and slotted your bag between your legs. Fiddling tensely with the straps for a moment, it dawned on you how your sleeves were still rolled all the way up to your elbows from when you had checked under the hood. Pulse instantly picking up and thumping in your ears, you hastily tugged them back down to cover the lavender bruises peaking out. 

Had he noticed?

Hearing the door slam to your left, being too caught up in your own mess, it only caused your form to jump in the seat.

Trying to play it off as nothing, you attempted a casual, “I’m Y/n by the way,” though your voice came out much more strangled than you’d intended. 

Catching your flickering eye a moment before turning the key, he likewise enlightened, “Pete.” 

Your bottom lip didn’t escape the prison of your teeth the entire ride, gnawing subconsciously at it as you purposely stare out at the wild flora you passed in order to not look at the advantageous stranger. 

Though after you passed the crooked sign welcoming you back to your small hometown, Pete’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“So, where can I drop you off?”

“The inn,” you turned your head to inform him, “the Lilac Inn, if you know where that is.”

“Yeah, I know it,” he nodded, sucking in a knowing breath as if he didn’t need any more information to figure you out, “so you’re a tourist? One of those nature people who come out here to hike or something?”

“Not exactly,” was all the explanation you offer as you watched the familiar scenery come into view. 

Dunbrook. To call it a town was very generous indeed as the whole population could properly fit under the same roof if they really wanted to, and they often did. The rolling fields of wildlife that surrounded the village also divided and broke up the infrastructure of the old settlement, causing most of the homes and businesses to not all the clustered together as you had grown accustomed to seeing after moving to a metropolis as vast as New York. 

Every familiar structure rolling by evoked memories long ago buried and forgotten. The corner where you fell learning how to ride a bike. The quaint general store where you once stole a lollipop, walked for all of 48 seconds before turning right back and apologising to the owner with tears in your eyes. But most of all, the large Victorian structure at the bottom of the tiny town by far held the fondest of memories in your heart. 

The dust puffed up around the truck as you rolled down the narrow dirt road, the bushy lilac trees that flourished all over the property haven not quite yet come into bloom, yet still forewarned your destination that already peaked over the tops. 

“Here it is,” Pete exhaled as the car came to a stop before the vast veranda, “the Lilac Inn.” 

Eyes glued to your childhood home, you stepped out of the truck, “thank you,” slamming the door shut, you turned to add awkwardly through the rolled down window, “and also thank you for not turning out to be an axe murderer or something,” a nervous laugh swiftly bubbling out at the notion.

Glancing back at your bumbling form, he simply flashed you a tight-lipped smile and said, “you have a good trip, ma'am.” 

“You too–, I mean, you have a good, uhm, rest of your life,” you fumbled as your feet slowly backed up, “it was nice meeting you, Pete.” 

“Yeah, you too,” he just managed to reply before you spun your mortified flush away from his stare and scurried up the steps of the porch. 

Pushing the creaky, stained glass adorn front door open, you tiptoed inside. 

The lighting dim and the atmosphere nothing short of comforting, a smile finally bloomed upon your lips as you let out the breath you’d been holding for who knows how long. 

Peeking around the corner into one of the sitting rooms, you only spotted one patron sitting by the small round table next to the crackling fireplace, working away at a puzzle. Either the others had gone to bed already or this fellow was the only one staying here. 

“Excuse me,” you gently interrupted from the archway, “would you happen to know where the owner, Harvey, is–”

Though before you managed to get out the remainder of the sentence, a bustle from the kitchen answered your question for you, “every time I forget to whisk long enough and every time I say it’s gonna be different, but this time I mean it!”

Sharing a knowing look with the guest, you chuckle, “never mind…” 

“This time I won't just stop when my arm feels like it’s gonna fall off,” even though it was clear he was talking to himself, his usual vibrato still carried, “oh no, no, you just wait and see how light and fluffy you turn out this time, cake!” 

Poking your head through the ajar door, you spotted the familiar greying man grumbling into the contents of the bowl he was furiously beating with a whisk. 

“Dad?”

Nearly jumping out of his skin, your father gasped, whisk jolting upright as he laid his eyes upon you, subsequently splattering some batter across the kitchen, back near the sink, “Y/n?” he exclaimed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers, “is that really you? Is my little baby girl really standing in my kitchen or is this a hallucination?”

“Hi,” your head tilted in a soft chuckle. 

Staring at you as if you were just a newborn puppy, “oh, come here, munchkin and give your pops a hug!” the moustachioed man’s arms went wide and pulled you in, dropping whisk still in his hand as he blubbered into your hair, “ah, I’ve missed you so much,” squeezing your form in the magical way that only parents could, “I haven’t heard from you in, well I don’t even know how long, that’s how long and if you ask me then that’s too long,” he pulled back, cupping your cheek as he gazed at you, “you don’t write, you don’t call.”

“Not true, I do write,” you corrected him light-heartedly, “and you don’t have a cellphone.” 

“Well, there’s the telephone out in reception, why would I need more?” he shrugged, lending you to then slip out of his grip, swiftly boosting your own form to hop onto one of the empty counters, “also, your last letter was 10 months ago.” 

“No, it wasn’t, was it?” you gasped, thinking back.

“You can check the date, they’re still in the cookie tin up there,” he gestured to one of the top shelves before reuniting the whisk in his grip with the large bowl on the table. 

Only briefly glancing up at the enamel box, you already knew that you didn’t wanna revisit them. However vague the letters were, which they always were, you were still certain that they’d have the power to send you right back there into Preston’s iron fist, even though you’d never even mentioned him once in all the years you’d been with him. They only ever really contained small talk and pleasantries, never about something so personal as to whom you were dating, but you also didn’t share at all as things took a turn for the worse, when you were in so deep that you felt like you couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was out of pride, perhaps it was to shield him from the truth, or maybe even in a way yourself, not admitting to the fiend you had welcomed into your own bed, creating some false reality as a coping mechanism. 

Averting your gaze, you then uttered softly, “I’m really sorry dad,” gliding your right thumb over the jagged edge of the counter as you gripped onto it with both fists.

“Ah, it’s fine,” he waved a hand, “you’re young, out there living your life. You shouldn’t have to check in with your father every few seconds. I am aware that you’re 29 after all. Although, you know I wouldn’t be a pose to just a little bit more…” he winked, playfully bumping the side of his hip against your shin before picking up the speed of the whisk once more, “so, did I forget it’s my birthday or did you just miss your old man?” his jovial glance flickered between you and the batter. 

“Can I stay here a while? I just need some place to,” lay low, “figure things out, you know?”

Whisk halting, his gaze upon you grew in concern, “of course you can, honey. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay, I just–, uh… needed a change,” not looking him in the eye, you spoke, “I don’t know to where or what I’m gonna do next, but I do know that I don’t wanna go back,” you felt a lump of emotion swell up in your throat, “and I won’t just stay here for free, I’ll pay you rent,” you tried to appease the stubborn sensation of being a nuance to everyone, even to your own kin, “though I don’t really have any money right now, so I’d have to get a job first, but that’s fine, I’ll figure something out–” 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” your father cut you off, “you can stay here as long as you want, it never stopped being your home even when you moved away. Still keep your room exactly the same, just in case,” he offered you a warm smile, his silver moustache stretching wider, “how about you just give me a hand around here, huh?” 

“Alright,” you exhaled, “deal.”

His grin turning more mischievous, he then noted slyly, “you know I’ve always dreamed of you taking over this place one day, running the family business…” 

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled, “not this again…”

“Just think about, you could–”

“Dad, I’m not gonna take over the inn! Running a place like this isn’t what it used to be back when your parents opened it up. You might have always been dead set on taking over it, but I haven’t.”

“I know, I know,” he gracefully backed down again as he always did, “you want adventure, isn’t that what you called it when you went away for college?” 

Adventure… it was that kind of philosophy that had sent an innocent young girl into the arms of a devil…

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[oneshotnewbie]

r being the youngest hastings sisters and getting injured badly in front of her sister and mom PLEASE PLEASE MAKE IT AS ANGSTY AS POSSIBLE

Authors note: I realize that car accidents are pretty much overused these days as far as injuries go, but the only thing that came to mind was poisoning, which didn't fit with your desire for a badly injured reader. Apart from that, reader is one year older than Spencer

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the topic of a serious accident and blood. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

The rain pounded relentlessly against the windshield, turning the world outside into an endless, gloomy mass of darkness and rushing water. The headlights of Veronica Hastings' car cut through the darkness as she pulled her vehicle into position behind you and followed you while you carefully navigated through the darkness of the deserted highway, battling the heavy rain.

The weekend trip had originally been planned as a relaxing break. An opportunity for Veronica, Spencer and you to get a little distance from the city and all the stress. But now, late at night, the drive back felt anything but relaxing. The clouds were heavy and low, and the incessant lightning flashes kept making the sky glow eerily.

Spencer sat in the passenger seat and stared at the red taillights of your vehicle, which was driving along the road a few meters ahead of them. Veronica gripped the steering wheel tightly and kept glancing anxiously into the distance where she saw the back of your car. "We're almost home," she said, her voice calm but with a hint of tension.

"I can't wait," Spencer answered, her eyes alertly on the red glow of your brake lights. She saw you driving with concentration and caution - as always. "The rain makes driving so nerve-wracking."

"I know, honey," Veronica assured her calmly, her voice soft but focused as she gave her a quick sideways glance, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Just a few more miles and we'll be home."

Then, without warning, bright headlights flared up behind them, blazing so close that they bathed the interior of the car in a blinding light. Spencer turned abruptly in her seat, and saw the large, black SUV coming at them at breakneck speed. It seemed to take up the entire road, and the eerily aggressive sound of the engine cut through the rain.

"What the hell-" Spencer began, but the car was already speeding past them as if propelled by an invisible force. The water splashed across their windshield, leaving them momentarily driving blind. Veronica straightened, her eyes wide with incomprehension.

"Damn, what a mad-" but before she could finish her thought, she and Spencer watched as the SUV pulled dangerously to the right, then there was a violent jolt. The scene played out before their eyes as if someone had slowed down time. Spencer's heart skipped a beat and an ice-cold shiver ran down her spine. She looked at her mother as the SUV rammed the side of your car with full force. The impact was so violent that your car immediately skidded.

"Oh my God!" Spencer screamed, her voice a single, desperate cry as reflexively grabbed the dashboard, watched in shock as you tried to counter-steer the car and even managed to regain control for a moment.

Veronica, her eyes now wide, slammed on the brakes and held the steering wheel with all her strength. Their car skidded across the wet road as they watched in shock. The SUV slammed into your side once more, this time with such force that your car spun, left the lane, and drove into the guardrail that usually separated both lanes.

Your car flipped in the air once, twice, each time with a deafening metallic screech that echoed through the night's thunder. Each impact, each rollover, seemed to stretch time and accelerate it at the same time before you came to a stop on your roof in the oncoming lane. The front of the vehicle was crushed, and the airbag hung out of the shattered driver's side window like a limp white flag of surrender. It was barely recognizable.

It was a surreal moment - the darkness of the night, and the crash of each car part breaking off. Spencer felt her stomach clench as she saw the twisted shape of her your car.

Your mother held her breath and felt an ice-cold shiver run through her body. "Oh my God, no..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a strangled sound. Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and for a moment she didn't know what to do as her car came to a stop. It was as if everything had frozen - the sound of the rain, the smoke rising from the hood, the terrible silence that remained after the impact. She couldn't believe what had just happened before her eyes: her eldest daughter, who had just been driving safely ahead of them, was now probably unconscious and possibly seriously injured in a deformed wreck.

Spencer felt horror spreading like a cold mist in her head. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to rip out of her chest. "Y/n!" she screamed desperately, her voice a pure, trembling scream of terror. She ripped open the passenger door as soon as her mother's car had come to a stop and sprinted into the rain. She had a burning need to reach you.

She hurried through the pouring rain toward the destroyed car that lay in a cloud of smoke in front of her. The rain slapped her face like cold needles, and the headlights of her mother's car cast ghostly light on the wreckage of the accident. The sound of the crunching glass shards under her boots and the constant patter of the rain mixed into an oppressive roar. With every step across the wet asphalt, she felt the urgency growing. Spencer could hear the blood rushing in her ears, and the panic continued to rise within her.

Veronica stared at the scene in front of her, her hands still firmly on the steering wheel. "This can't be true," she whispered, her voice shaky, and she could barely breathe. Her mind refused to process the image - the horrible image that she would never forget.

It took a moment for her to break out of her trance, unbuckling her seatbelt with shaking hands and following Spencer into the rain. "Spencer, be careful! It could be dangerous!" she called, but her voice was choked by the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Everything in her screamed to protect you, to take you in her arms and make everything right again - but in front of her there was only the destroyed wreck and the terrible realization that there was nothing she could do to undo what had happened.

But Spencer did not respond to her mother's call. She felt the adrenaline flooding through her body and she felt an urgent need to rescue you alive while the SUV, that had caused the accident, had already disappeared again, as if it had never existed.

As they got closer, Veronica was the first to notice the extent of the damage in all its horror. The driver's door was dented, the metal bent as if a giant fist had crushed the car. Both could clearly smell the gasoline and smoke, an ominous smell that mixed with the metallic scent of blood. The gasoline dripped involuntarily from the broken tank. "The car could explode!" Veronica warned again, but her voice was so foreign, so full of panic, and she knew that her words had no effect. She herself felt like she was in a nightmare from which she could not wake up.

"We can't just leave her here! We have to get her out before it happens, mom!" Spencer knelt next to the driver's window and peered in. "Y/n! Can you hear me?" Her voice was choked with tears and she knocked on the broken window frame, but there was no answer from you.

Veronica didn't hesitate for a moment and knelt down next to you both, both hands outstretched. The sight that awaited her almost took her breath away: you were hanging motionless upside down in the seat, your head leaning limply to the side, and the light from the headlights fell on your blood-stained hair and face. Veronica could see blood streaking your temples, cheeks and neck, while your breathing was barely noticeable. She could hardly recognize you anymore. "She's unconscious!" she cried out desperately and tried to open the door. She shook it, but it didn't move a millimeter.

Together they pulled at the jammed door until it finally gave way and they got it open. A gust of smoke hit them, and Spencer coughed as she immediately set about freeing you from the seat. Her hands were cut by the shards of glass, and her breathing was in gasps, but she didn't feel the pain. Even though every breath felt like a stab to her heart, she would never leave you behind.

"Y/n, please.." Spencer begged, her voice choked with fear. She gave in as her mother gently pushed her aside and moved to free you. So without hesitation, Spencer reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone, her shaking fingers on the screen as she dialed 911. "Come on, come on.." she whispered, her hands slick with blood and rain. She struggled to hold the device steady enough to type in the right number. The connection was established, and she waited, her heart racing as her hand reached for yours.

Veronica leaned deeper into the wrecked car, the smoke and metallic smell of blood and gasoline now stinging her nose even more. "Y/n, my love. Can you hear me? Please, wake up. We're here. I'm here, sweetheart.." Her voice broke off as she tried to pull you out of the seat, but the belt had wrapped itself tightly around your body and wouldn't come off. Her hands slid over the blood-stained fabric of your shirt as she tried to loosen the belt, but her own fingers were shaking so much that it seemed impossible. "Please, wake up.." she whispered, tears mixing with the rain running down her face.

Spencer was now speaking frantically into the phone, her voice anxious and fluttering. "My sister had an accident. She is unconscious and seriously injured, please send an ambulance and the fire department immediately! The car is upside down and gasoline is leaking!" she screamed into the line. "We're on the highway toward Rosewood," she hesitated, trying to remember a precise description, but her eyes were glued to you, and the world around her seemed to blur. She felt desperation gripping her like an icy grip. The operator on the other end spoke soothingly to her, promising to send help, but the minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly as the rain pounded harder and harder against them.

Veronica desperately tried to pull on the belt, trying to free you from the vehicle. She felt your cold skin beneath her fingertips, felt her own trembling and the weight of fear settling on her chest. "Come on, come on, baby... stay with us," she pleaded, trying to pull the belt through with all her strength, ignoring her own exhaustion. It was as if time was passing at an agonizing slowness.

Suddenly Spencer's phone vibrated in her hand and for a moment she was confused. Who could be writing to her at this moment? But when she read the message, her blood froze in her veins. The words glowed at her: "See what happens if you're not careful? This time it was just a warning."

Her fingers froze and for a moment everything around her was silent. Everything disappeared in that terrible, icy moment as the reality of the message sank into her consciousness. "A." Spencer felt the ground beneath her knees threatening to give way, despair mixing with a terrible feeling of helplessness. This was no accident. "A" had struck again and this time he was directly after you.

"Spencer, what's wrong?" Veronica called without looking up as she continued to struggle to unbuckle the belt and free you. Spencer blinked, shook herself out of her trance and put the phone away. "It's... it's nothing," she lied with a trembling voice, her hands reaching for the belt, struggling with the metal clip that had bent and was holding you in the seat.

"Spencer, I need your help now, we have to get her out of there," your mother said with determination. She sounded so motherly, so protective, that it almost broke Spencer's heart. She looked into the eyes of her mother, who knew nothing about "A," who just wanted to save her daughter at that moment.

Spencer fought to stay calm, her eyes burning with tears. "I'm here Mom, what should I do?" she continued shortly after, waiting for further instructions from her mother. "I'm going to get her out of there now. You have to support her head as soon as I move her, okay?"

Together they finally managed to unbuckle the belt. They both carefully pulled you out of the wrecked car, their movements slow and controlled so as not to cause any further injuries. Spencer felt more warm blood on her hands as she pulled you out of the wreckage. "We'll get through this, we'll get through this," she whispered, both to herself and to Veronica.

The cold of the rain crept through both of their clothes, but that didn't matter. All Veronica felt was the paralyzing fear for her child. "Stay with us, baby..." she whispered to you as she held back more tears of despair and laid you gently on the wet asphalt, her hands still shaking, and she stroked your hair, which was soaked by the rain and matted with blood, tensely. "Spencer, she looks so bad."

"She's still breathing, Mom. That's a good sign," she said carefully, examining your limp and heavy body. Your face was pale and blood dripped from a deep wound on the back of your head and forehead. Your breathing became shallower with every second.

"You are strong, honey, we are here... we won't leave you alone," your mother said as her tears melted into the rain.

Spencer heard the sirens of the approaching ambulance in the distance, but the words of the message echoed in her head. She could hardly breathe as the realization slowly cut through her chest like a sharp pain. "A" had put you in this situation and now you were lying on her lap, bleeding.

Spencer looked at her mother, who was waiting for the emergency services to arrive with panic in her eyes, completely unaware that this was all no accident. "Mom..." Spencer said, her voice shaking, and she looked at her mother. But Veronica knew nothing about "A" and the dark power that was descending upon her family.

Spencer felt the chill of realization run through her body and Veronica saw the look on her face and knew something was wrong, but she couldn't form the words. All she could do was hold her older daughter's hand and pray that the ambulance would arrive in time.

Spencer felt weak and lost like never before. The uncertainty of whether you would survive never left her. She knew this was just the beginning of a new nightmare. "A" continued to play with them, and her sister was paying the price.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I was watching the boy, the mole, the horse and the fox, and was one of the lines that made me think of a small scene for a drabble.

Where during a bad storm, as Mc is comforting Julian, holding him close and cuddling under the blanket or in a pillow fort to dampen the noise of the storm. To try and help him relax, Mc says something like, 'When the big things feel out of control, focus on what you love, right under your nose.' Followed by 'The storm will pass.' While gently messing with his hair.

Inspired by this scene from the movie;

https://youtube.com/shorts/Eyxkv8Cyo5w?si=lrsC82nmDliycwoJ

The Arcana Drabbles: Comforting Julian during a storm

You knew as soon as you saw the grey clouds brewing on the horizon that it wouldn't be an easy night for your beloved doctor. What you didn't expect was for it to escalate as quickly as it did. You'd planned to have several more hours before the storm hit, but by the time you made it to the front door of your shared home, the rain was already splattering down in fat drops of water and lightning was crackling across the sky above you.

"Julian? I'm home!"

No response. The house was dark when you walked in, making you wonder momentarily if he was still at his clinic. Another flash of lightning lit up the sitting area as you walked through it and you miraculously heard a faint whimper despite the thunder rolling through the house.

"Julian?"

"Here."

The embarrassed, shuddering whisper came from inside the shadow of the couch. When you rounded the corner, Julian was wound up tight in a ball on the floor, lanky limbs curled in on himself, one hand stuffing his glove into his mouth to muffle the sobs that sent tears streaming down his cheeks. Oh ... it really is bad, this time.

"I'm sorry -" Another rumble of thunder makes him jump, his mouth snapping shut as he tucks his face into his arms. He flinches when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and you can feel the ragged, rapid breathing wrack his bones. His voice cracks when he tries to speak again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be like this -"

"Don't be sorry," you tell him, "I should've come home sooner."

He doesn't have much to say in response to that, too busy rocking back and forth as he clenches one knee with his fist. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders and he buries his face into your neck with a sob.

"Can you stand up?"

No response, just a series of quick nods against your shoulder. You lean back and pull him with you towards the bedroom. He's freezing.

"Take off your boots and get under the covers. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay." He sniffles shakily and takes a seat on the mattress, fumbling with the ties on his boots in the twilight of your unlit house. You scurry out to the stove to heat up some water and grab a lantern or two.

When you get back, it's to a shivering lump under the thick quilts Mazlinka gave you and a rapidly darkening room courtesy of the rain beating against the window. You set the lantern down on the bedside table among the clutter of his spare eyepatches and patient notes and climb onto the mattress.

"Can I come in?"

You don't get a verbal response, just a corner of the blanket lifting as he makes space for you to join him. He clings to you as soon as you lie next to him, curling his legs up around your hips, pressing his face into your chest, and twisting his fingers into the back of your shirt. You rest your chin on his curls and take slow, even breaths as your wrap your arms around him in turn.

"I'm here."

"Thank you."

The trembling begins to subside, letting you wriggle one arm free to place the hot water bottle you brought with you at his lower back. He shuffles to accommodate a more comfortable snuggling position.

"Ah - that's some lovely warmth, my dear."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm sorr - I mean," he catches himself mid-apology and tilts his head up to meet your eyes, "I'm ... feeling better, I thi-"

Another crash of thunder makes him jump, and you can feel the shivers running through his body as you hold him close. You can tell he's trying to hold himself together by the strain in his shoulders and neck but that doesn't stop the front of your shirt from slowly soaking with tears. You wrap yourself around him again, feeling him curl up smaller, and bury your nose in his hair.

"When the big things feel out of control, focus on what you love, right under your nose." He stills for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath before lifting his face again. You slowly slide his eyepatch off his head and run your fingers through his hair. "The storm will pass."

He loosens his grip, sliding up the sheets to lie face-to-face with you, and offers you a watery smile despite the sound of the wind howling around the corners of the building. "I love you."

"I love you too."

He tangles your fingers with his and pulls them to his chin. "Thank you for being here."

There's so much you want to say to that, but for now a kiss will have to suffice.

[drvirgus]

Protecting (my heart)

Idol! Minji X bodyguard! Reader

Description: getting a new job as NewJeans bodyguard isn't really something Y/n thought would happen to her. What exactly happens when she suddenly felt attracted to one of the NewJeans members? Can Y/n stay professional or are her feelings for Minji too much to handle?

Warnings: stalking; harassment; kys jokes; suggestive language; death threats; mention of abuse; mention of murder;

Chapter: She´s in my bed (Fully Written)

Masterlist

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The rain was pounding like crazy on the gray asphalt. Lightning flashed in the sky, and thunder roared through the entire neighborhood. My lungs burned, and my legs ached, but I just kept running. My eyes widened as I slipped and slammed my chin against the asphalt. Tears filled my eyes as pain coursed through my entire body. "Watch out!" I heard someone yell behind me.

I glanced briefly at the man in a suit I had apparently knocked to the ground. His brow was furrowed, and his fist was raised. With a quick movement, I managed to stand up and kept running. My breath was fast, and my clothes were soaked from the rain. My hands were clenched into fists as I pushed myself to run even faster.

When I arrived at my apartment complex, I immediately looked around. My mouth was open as I desperately tried to catch my breath. The rain was relentlessly pouring down on me. My eyes narrowed as I noticed a car on the other side of the street, but before I could make out any details, the car's tires squealed as it sped away in a panic.

My hands were on my knees as I bent over slightly. My knees were trembling, and my lungs still burned. I took a deep breath before heading to my front door. My eyes widened when I saw a shivering, wet Minji sitting by my door. She was rubbing her hands together, clearly trying to stay awake.

Her eyes were fixed on my shoes until she slowly lifted her head to look at me. The motion sensor finally turned on, illuminating both Minji and me. Still breathing heavily, I looked at my drunk ex-girlfriend. A smile spread across her face as her eyes closed. "You came," she slurred, letting out a small laugh.

My jaw visibly tightened. No matter how cute Minji looked right now. No matter how much I wanted to just hold her and tell her I loved her. No matter how much my heart raced as I looked at her. Minji had never done anything this crazy... at least not until she met me...

I swallowed hard as I crouched down to be at eye level with her. Minji was still smiling sweetly and innocently. "We should go inside. It doesn't seem like the rain will stop," I sighed, getting only a nod from the younger woman. I sighed again as I immediately opened the door and let Minji in.

Together, we took the elevator to the floor where my apartment was. I kept my eyes away from the drunk woman, who was leaning against the elevator wall. Neither of us said a word. My thoughts were racing, while hers seemed to have stopped...

We quietly entered my apartment. Minji clumsily took off her shoes, nearly falling over if she hadn't caught herself on my shoe cabinet. A sigh escaped my throat as I took her arm and led her to the bathroom. I turned on the warm water in the bathtub. "You should take a bath," I said as I turned to the wet woman.

Minji was visibly swaying from all the alcohol and just nodded absentmindedly. Her hands immediately went to her top as she started to lift it, stumbling backward. I panicked and quickly grabbed her, pulling her to me. Minji's eyes widened, but she soon started laughing. "Oops."

Sighing, I bit my lip. "Can you manage to undress yourself?" I asked more quietly, her laughter echoing through the bathroom. Her laughter softened as she just smiled at me, seemingly not having heard me. Blushing, I repeated myself.

"No."

Nervously, I bit my lip and nodded. "Arms up," I said softly, which Minji immediately did. Gently and somewhat slowly, I pulled her wet top over her head. My hands trembled as I moved to her pants, trying to unbutton them. My face turned red as I tried with all my might not to look at her chest.

My heart was pounding faster in my chest, and my breathing quickened. The air in the bathroom, thick with steam from the hot bathwater, made it even harder for me to breathe and stay calm. I found it increasingly difficult to think clearly.

Minji, now standing in front of me in just her underwear, looked at me. Her eyes were half-open, and her lips were parted. "You can handle the rest on your own," I said, taking a small step back, but her hands grabbed my collar and pulled me back to her.

"You're wet too."

My eyes widened as her lips met mine. Her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I could feel it entwine with mine. My shoulders tensed as she gripped my collar tightly, afraid I might pull away. My shoulders relaxed as she deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly and stepping closer to me.

Her almost naked body pressed against my wet, probably cold clothes. My hands were on her hips as I pulled her closer, returning the kiss. My eyes closed, and my nose pressed against her cheek as I focused solely on the kiss.

I noticed Minji slowly releasing my collar and placing her hands on my hips, lifting my hoodie. Panicking, my eyes widened, and I broke the kiss.

What the hell am I doing?

My eyes narrowed as I looked at the drunk woman, who just stared at me with her mouth slightly open. "W-What's wrong?" she slurred, trying to put her hand back on my hip. I quickly looked away from her, trying to avoid her.

"Get undressed and warm up," I said before abruptly leaving the bathroom. I quickly closed the door behind me and leaned against it. My lips pressed together as I couldn't believe I had kissed her back.

But I couldn't help it...

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Nervously, I sat on my bed. The door was wide open, allowing me to see straight from my room to the bathroom. I had already changed my clothes. My hands rested on my thighs, rubbing them repeatedly. The bathroom door opened, and I immediately jumped up from my bed.

My eyes widened as a naked Minji stood before me. My mouth opened in shock as I stood speechless before the taller woman. Minji’s eyes were almost fully closed, and her lips parted slightly. “You…” I stammered, then quickly, perhaps a bit too roughly, opened my wardrobe and grabbed some clothes, pressing them against her chest.

My pants felt uncomfortably tight as the sight of her naturally turned me on. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I desperately tried not to focus on her bare skin. Minji tiredly dragged herself to my bed and collapsed onto it, scattering the clothes on the floor.

“Minji! You… you need to get dressed,” I said loudly, but the drunk woman just mumbled something incomprehensible. My breathing quickened as I picked up the underwear from the floor. Luckily, I had recently bought a box of boxer shorts...

Swallowing, I grabbed one of her ankles and slipped it into one leg of the underwear, then did the same with the other. With my head raised and eyes tightly shut, I pulled the fresh boxers up her legs, which was quite difficult since she wasn’t helping and had already fallen asleep.

Sighing, I grabbed a T-shirt, one I had stolen from Minji a few weeks ago, and gently pulled it over her head. My movements were slow and careful so as not to wake the younger woman. Once she was dressed, I looked at the sleeping woman on my bed.

I automatically bit my lip and shook my head wildly to banish the dirty thoughts from my mind. Huffing, I threw the blanket over the drunk woman and left my room.

My thoughts were racing as I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket. I quickly fished it out and saw a message from Haerin. I responded immediately so she wouldn’t worry about Minji anymore. The conversation ended quickly, as I could hardly concentrate.

Sighing, I sat down on the couch. My hair was still wet from the rain, which was pounding wildly against the window, enveloping everything around me in a soothing silence. My eyes drifted to my lap, where the bulge in my pants was quite noticeable. My jaw tightened as I quickly looked away.

What exactly should I do now?

Minji was sleeping in my bed… wearing my clothes… drunk...

My beautiful ex-girlfriend, whom I still loved deeply, was sleeping in my bed…

My ex-girlfriend who thought I broke up with her because of the sex...

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Taglist: @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @acegaydar @alexxeey @sixflame438

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 8-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: This took me way too long to write but as per usual, please let me know what you think and if you want more.

Warnings: angst, negative family dynamics, eating issues, body issues, and swearing.

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog, @kasslucilfer, @darksoul100

Luke’s smile would have been more contagious if my thoughts were not so jumbled. Even though he was standing right across from me, my brain refused to believe he was real. Sure, he was wearing his favorite brown jacket over a t-shirt with jeans, and the sun (or whatever light) highlighted the natural glow around him. But, it was impossible.

“Impossible?” Luke asked. “That’s a little harsh.”

I hesitated and pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. “Sorry, this is a lot to take in.”

But I could see the scene in my mind’s eye: the Vought clean-up crew hosing the blood off the cobblestone in front of Lamplighter, the chunks of Luke they put in biohazard bags, and the smell---

I wretched at the thought of it and tried not to double over. Luke rushed over to me and softly grasped my shoulders.

“Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” he asked.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I…I saw you die, and this is a messed up joke if this is a joke. Or…”

Luke sighed. “You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He slowly backed away and I straightened up. Then, I launched myself at him and he caught me in a bear hug, laughing as he did. The scent of pine and clean aftershave almost made me cry.

“I miss you,” I mumbled into his chest.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

“I wish none of this happened. Why didn’t you tell any of us what was going on?” I demanded.

Luke paused. “I didn’t know how but, it sounds like you guys are figuring things out.”

I slowly pulled away from Luke and eyed him. “How can you tell?”

Luke pursed his lips. “I’m a manifestation of Cate’s subconsciousness. So, I see everything she sees.”

At his words, my eyes wandered around the forest. At first glance, it looked like any other forest with large trees and whistling wind. But on closer inspection, there were no woodland creatures, no sounds of birds, and the sky was more like a large gray cloud with red cracks that flashed every few seconds.

“I’m in Cate’s head?”

“You catch on quick but then again, you always do.”

I looked up at Luke. “So, if I’m in here, what’s happening to my body? And where’s everyone else?”

“You touched Cate when she was in extreme duress and she retreated to her mind but she brought you with her,” Luke explained. “Your body could be experiencing several things: seizure, vomiting, a comatose state, or hysteria.”

I groaned. “So, her going into shock put me in shock?”

“Pretty much.”

Another shock of lightning flashed across the “sky” but this time, it struck and destroyed a boulder that was about thirty feet away from Luke and me. The crash made me jump and Luke grabbed my arm.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“She’s kind of self-destructing. This hasn’t happened before and the only way to get out is if she wakes up,” Luke warned.

“So, I just need to find Cate and wake us both up,” I confirmed with a nod.

Lightning cracked through the sky and I jumped further into Luke’s grip.

“Basically but you don’t have a lot of time. If she doesn’t wake up, you’ll be stuck here forever.”

His words hung heavy over me and I could feel pressure weighing down on my shoulders. Somehow, I had to find Cate and snap her out of this state. Even though she’d been through a lot in the last few hours, she didn’t have to go this far.

I managed a smile. “Well, at least I have you here as a guide.”

Luke straightened up and puffed out his chest. “Of course. So, all you have to do---”

An instant later, a flash of lightning took him with it. It was difficult to tell whether knowing he was already dead made this second loss easier or harder. At the same time, it was nice to see Luke again, to talk to him, and touch him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to think. The best course of action would be to try to use my powers again and figure out the best route out. It definitely could not hurt after the last couple of tries.

I closed my eyes and focused on the best way to find Cate. However, it was like my powers didn’t exist at all. Before, it felt like they were just out of reach and this was definitely worse.

I opened my eyes as I felt my heartbeat pick up.

“Breathe, Y/N, breathe,” I hissed.

There was no time for my anxiety to spike. No one else was here except me and Cate and I was the only one who could find her.

After a few deep breaths, I opened my eyes and saw a large glossy oak door standing in front of me. The door looked familiar, and I couldn’t stop myself from grabbing its knob and pushing it open.

Seconds later, the bright light stunned me as I wandered into the space. When my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in Dean Shetty’s office, complete with the expensive furniture and tapestry. Dean Shetty sat at her desk and stirred some sugar into her cup of tea. Cate was sitting across from her but she looked much more innocent, like she had when we first met.

She sipped from a pristine teacup and tapped her gloved fingers against the porcelain. She wore a white varsity sweater and ripped jeans.

“How is your first week as a sophomore?” Dean Shetty asked.

Cate nodded. “It’s going well so far. It feels different.”

“That’s only a natural feeling. You are much more in control of your powers and you are more experienced.”

“Thank you, Indira, it’s all because of your help.”

Dean Shetty shook her head and set her teacup down. “No, I only supported you; you did a lot of work. You are in the Top 20 for a reason.” She clasped her hands together. “Considering your progress, I think it’s time that I give you a new challenge.”

Cate raised her eyebrows. “Challenge?”

“Yes. I believe it is time for you to pass on what you learned and that you are ready now. There is a freshman that I would like you to meet. She is an incredibly bright, talented supe but, she needs some guidance to realize her full potential.” Dean Shetty grinned. “Considering how similar your abilities are, I believe you would be a fantastic match as her peer mentor.”

Cate paused. “Peer mentor?”

“Yes, a guide of sorts about how to succeed at Godolkin; who to befriend, what events to engage with, and how to gain more control over your abilities. These sorts of things tend to come better from someone who is of a similar age. What do you think?”

Even though it sounded like a question, it wasn’t. Dean Shetty’s tone was light but her eyes seemed to darken slightly and she straightened up a little as she eyed Cate. Cate stared at the teacup in her hand for a while, mulling things over.

“Okay, if you think it’s a good idea, then I’m open to it,” Cate declared.

Dean Shetty smiled. “Wonderful.”

“When do I meet her?”

A second later, someone knocked on the door behind me and Dean Shetty rose from her seat.

“Right now,” she commented.

As she walked towards me, Dean Shetty’s gaze never left the door. Even as she walked past me, she didn’t acknowledge me.

“They probably can’t see me,” I concluded.

Dean Shetty opened the door in one flawless motion but she stood in a way where I couldn’t see who was on the other side.

“Am I early?” a soft voice asked.

“No, you have impeccable timing. Come on in.”

Dean Shetty stepped aside and in walked a very anxious freshman version of myself. I watched as my freshman self fought to not grab at the black tennis skirt that swayed when she walked. The silk pressed curls bounced against the middle of her back as she approached Dean Shetty’s desk.

Cate stood when freshman me got close enough and Dean Shetty stood next to me.

“Cate, I’d like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N. She’s at the top of Brink’s first-year class and I am confident her star will continue to rise with proper guidance,” Dean Shetty announced.

Freshman me extended a hand towards Cate and Cate accepted it. “It’s nice to meet you. I saw your TikTok on supe psychology and it was really cool.”

Did I always ramble that much?

“I’m glad you liked it and it’s nice to meet you too,” Cate responded.

Dean Shetty gestured for Cate and freshman me to sit and she poured freshman me a cup of tea. “I was just telling Cate that I think she would be a wonderful peer mentor.”

“Peer mentor?” I echoed.

“Yes, someone your age who can help guide you through GOD U. I’m sure you’ve noticed how hectic it can be and not everyone survives here. Any freshman would kill to have personal time with a Top 20 supe but they do not all meet the standard to do so.”

Freshman me’s eyes widened with each word Dean Shetty spoke. “That’s amazing but, why me?”

“Like I said you are exceptional in your classes already and your skill set and Ms. Dunlap’s are similar and cause similar side effects. I believe she can help you navigate that as well as all things GOD U.”

Freshman me turned to Cate and smiled softly. “If you’re okay with it…”

“Of course. What is your ability, by the way?”

Freshman me rattled off my ability and Cate nodded, impressed. Then, Dean Shetty’s cell phone rang and she excused herself to take it. Cate leaned closer to Freshman Me.

“Don’t be so nervous. I already know that we’ll be friends,” she smiled.

Freshman me grinned in reply and I could feel the residual giddiness or that could have been me remembering this day. Cate was so impressive at that point that I was afraid that she wouldn’t want to be stuck with me or ignore me. But the anger that rose at the sight of Cate’s grin leapt out of me.

“If we were such good friends, why did you trap me in your head?” I hissed.

Cate turned to me. “I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I thought your powers were impressive and I could tell how powerful you were when we first met. I still want us to be friends.”

I stomped over to her. “Then, let’s get out of here. We can go together; we don’t have to stay here.”

But as quickly as she was there, she was gone. Suddenly, I was in the corner of the training gym and Luke, Andre, and Jordan were hanging out on the other end. Jordan was in their female form, wearing a baggy tank top and loose sweatpants, something they’d rarely wear outside of a memory.

I remembered this, this was the first time I ever trained with the Top Five. Cate had dragged me to the gym, insisting that I meet her friends and almost-boyfriend while also improving my combat skills. At the time, I thought she was crazy and that maybe it was a cruel prank but her genuine smile and encouragement were comforting.

Slowly, I approached the group, moving to stand near Jordan and listening to the conversation.

“So, who’s this girl Cate’s bringing?” Andre asked.

“Her mentee. Shetty set them up, but she sounds excited,” Luke answered.

“You don’t have a name?” Jordan asked.

Luke laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cate mentioned it, but I can’t remember.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Well, this freshman better not waste my time.”

Luke playfully elbowed her. “Stop being so grumpy. If Shetty paired Cate with her, it probably means she’s impressive. At least give her a chance.”

Jordan scowled. “Why do you always have to be nice?”

Andre clapped his hands on Luke’s shoulders. “Because he’s Golden Boy.”

Watching past Jordan in all their surliness was jarring and I felt like a freshman again.

A second later, the training door opened, and I watched as Cate strutted in confidently with an arm wrapped around freshman me’s shoulders. I could feel the terror and anxiety wafting off freshman me as I watched her nervously eye the trio.

“Sorry, we’re late!” Cate called.

“It’s okay,” Luke insisted with a dazzling grin.

I giggled as Freshman me’s knees wobbled; it was funny how such a short time ago I couldn’t even make eye contact with Luke.

“Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my peer mentee. She’s doing amazing in her crim classes but needs a little help with combat,” Cate explained.

Freshman me did a small wave to everyone and Andre smirked as he swaggered up to her.

“Cate was keeping you all to herself, huh?” Andre commented.

Freshman me hesitated. “Uh…”

“Relax, Andre,” Luke said.

“Yeah, I don’t want you freaking her out with all that rizz,” Cate mocked.

Andre rolled his eyes and muttered something about the couple being “cockblockers”.

“Oh, you must know Jordan since they TA the first-year class,” Luke acknowledged.

“Um, sort of, we never…really…talk,” Freshman me admitted.

“Aw, don’t be scared of Jordan, their bark is worse than their bite,” Cate encouraged.

Andre raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

Jordan scoffed. “I’ll give you this, you’re the least annoying freshman.”

“Thanks?”

“Okay, let’s split up into pairs.” Cate turned to Freshman me. “Don’t worry about getting hurt----we never go all out in training and we only spar until someone’s knocked out of bounds.”

Freshman me nodded and I watched as she side-eyed Jordan. Even though I’d known that I’d have to spar with them, it didn’t make my nervousness any better. However, the four of them split up amongst themselves, with Andre and Luke going first, followed by Cate and Jordan, and decided that the winners of those rounds would play rock-paper-scissors to determine who sparred with me.

Andre and Luke’s fight was interesting, and I forgot how close of a match they were. Of course, Luke used his fire and flying abilities to his advantage, but Andre was still a force to be reckoned with. Luke still won and Andre grinned as Luke helped him to his feet afterwards. Cate and Jordan’s fight was as surprisingly decent as I remembered. Even though Jordan switched between their forms depending on the circumstance, Cate managed to keep up for a while. It wasn’t until Jordan leg swept her, knocking her out of bounds, that the fight ended.

“Not…fair,” Cate panted as she sat up.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jordan teased as she helped her up.

Cate smirked and they stepped out of the ring. Andre playfully rubbed his hands together.

“So, who gets to fight the freshman?” he sang.

“It’s Y/N,” Cate corrected.

“Right, sorry.”

Freshman me smiled softly as she stood from her seat and walked closer to the group. Luke and Jordan faced each other and played rock-paper-scissors. Playing best out of three was a little cruel since Freshman me hoped to spar with Luke. At the very least, he would be nice when I inevitably lost. Jordan was difficult to read but I’d had a feeling that they would taunt me about losing.

When Jordan won, I couldn’t read their expression but Freshman me was terrified.

“Stop looking like I’m going to kill you,” Jordan snapped.

Freshman me jumped and Cate placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Like I said, don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” she whispered.

At the time, I was so frazzled that I couldn’t focus on the outcome of the fight. Instead, I had focused on keeping my lunch down. Instead of joining Andre, Cate, and me on the sidelines, Luke stood on the mat, a couple of feet outside the circle. He waited a couple of seconds before signaling for Freshman me and Jordan to spar.

My shoulders hiked up towards my ears as I watched Freshman me clumsily evade Jordan’s attacks. At that time, I’d learned how to predict my opponent’s movements but I rarely landed strong attacks. Brink thought that because my mental strength was so high my physical strength had no choice but to lag.

“It would be unfair at that point. But, as a future supe, you do need to learn the basics,” he’d instructed.

Freshman me’s form was all over the place; her guard slipped every few seconds, her feet never had solid contact with the ground, and any kick or punch was weak at worst and sloppy at best. I cringed when she took a small energy blast from Jordan that knocked her out of bounds. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a shock at the time.

“Jordan!” Cate admonished as she jumped to her feet.

She started to rush forward but Andre held her back and Luke shook his head.

“She’s fine,” Luke mouthed.

Freshman me panted on the ground, sweat staining the lime green Alo set she wore a couple of shades darker. Jordan shifted into their male form as they sauntered over to me and extended a hand. Freshman me stared at his hand like it would turn into a snake at any second.

“Come on, you just saw I won’t bite,” he quipped.

At his words, Freshman me accepted his hand and Jordan pulled her to her feet in one move. I smiled as she almost bumped into him, but Jordan steadied her by gripping my forearms.

“I never thought you’d be this clumsy,” he commented.

Freshman me huffed. “I’m, uh, usually not this bad.”

“Well, your form needs some work, and you need to build up more confidence when you’re on the offense. But, you were great at evading me.” “Until that last move.”

“Not a lot of people could avoid that, especially not a freshman. Don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

Freshman me frowned as Jordan turned and started sauntering back to Cate and Andre. “Wh-what does that mean?”

Jordan glanced at her over his shoulder. “It means I’ll spar with you more often. You can’t be one of Brink’s new favorites and be this bad at fighting, freshie.”

Freshman me continued to gawk at him as he walked away. Andre finally let Cate run over to Freshman me and she insisted on looking her over. When Jordan finally got close enough to me, he had the smallest smile on his face. I stood just as he bent down to grab his water bottle.

“I still don’t get how you flipped like that. You mostly ignored me until then and I was a horrible sparring partner,” I commented.

Jordan chuckled. “I thought you’d get it by now.”

When he turned to face me, my stomach dropped. I didn’t understand why I still had this reaction to him after everything that happened. No matter what, every time he looked at me, I felt warm all over.

“You agreed to train with some of the highest ranking supes on campus and even though you were intimidated, you did your best and you didn’t give up,” Jordan stated. “Before we sparred, I thought Brink liked you so much because of your ability but it was more than that: you face challenges, even when you don’t want to, like a real supe.”  

“So do you,” I pointed out.

Jordan shook his head. “Yeah, but it’s different when you do it. I didn’t want to dig into any of this GOD U shit but you didn’t hesitate. It’s scary but also inspiring.”

It took all my strength to keep my mouth from falling open. I inspired Jordan? The same Jordan who did everything in their power to stay in the Top Three. The same Jordan who impressed one of the most influential crime experts so much that they became his TA.

None of this made any sense and I wondered how long Jordan thought of me like that.

Do they actually think about you like that?

I blinked and my heart sunk at the realization that Cate could have been messing with me; this was her domain after all.

 But what if Cate knew what Jordan was thinking or feeling at the time? It was possible, especially if she had her gloves off.

“Jordan---"

“And that’s when I said, ‘I hate to tell you buddy but, you’re looking at the wrong end’!” a loud voice cut me off.

When I turned to face the direction of the voice, I was suddenly standing in the corner of the dining room at Mom’s. The candlelight from the tables reflected off the wall, giving the space a false sense of warmth. The scent of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, and collard greens tickled my nose as I wandered further into the room.

At the long table, Mom and Dad sat on opposite ends, the large spread Ms. Murphy, the family cook, prepared obstructing their views of each other. My brother, Isaac, sat on one side, grinning from ear to ear as both our parents laughed. My fourteen-year-old self sat across from him, smiling as she pushed some greens around on her plate.

I remembered this, this was our first Thanksgiving after Isaac took the Buenos Aires job. The tension was so thick in the air that I could have choked on it and it nearly stopped my appetite.

Younger me slouched in her chair, clad in a red plaid cap-sleeve dress with her hair swept up in a loose curly bun. My face was so much rounder then. As I slowly traversed the table, Isaac pushed up the sleeves of his charcoal gray Brooks Brothers sweater.

Everyone liked Isaac, boys, girls, adults, everyone. If no one fell for his charm, his good sense of humor, or his fantastic social skills, they tended to be drawn to his tall, broad frame and smooth copper skin. When I was a kid, Isaac was everything.

“And that happened your first day?” Dad asked as he adjusted his glasses.

Isaac shook his head. “First week.”

“As expected from our brilliant son,” Mom bragged, sipping some Dom Perignon.

Isaac’s laugh sounded like a deeper-pitched version of Denzel Washington’s. Younger me smiled widely at the sound while I stared on, knowing full well that he probably got it from years of practice.

“I mean, I’m still learning a lot. Everyone I work with has been very welcoming,” Isaac insisted.

“Are you learning a lot about the culture? In school, we learned that it’s so vibrant there,” Younger me piped in.

Mom’s gaze cut towards me. “Y/N, don’t interrupt Isaac.”

Younger me shrank back and I flinched. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Y/N was only asking a question, Y/M/N. She hasn’t seen him in months, it’s only natural.”

Isaac raised his hands. “It’s okay, everyone.” He looked at Younger me. “It’s a really good question, Y/N. These past two years, I’ve really immersed myself in the culture and I’ve even started picking up more Spanish. Also, the Argentinians are a very welcoming people and I’m so fortunate to work and live with them.”

For the first time, I realized how practiced Isaac sounded. It was the same way Coco sounded whenever she practiced speeches but, she was also going into political science.

Who was Isaac trying to impress or sway?

I made my way to Younger Me and stood against the wall behind her. Her eyes were so wide and sparkling, hanging on to Isaac’s every word. I wondered if that was the same way I looked when I was rushing Si Chi.

Younger Me ate a mouthful of yams and nodded happily. “I’m glad you’re having such a good time. We miss you here, though.”

“But this is a great opportunity for your brother, Y/N. We couldn’t hold him back here,” Dad interjected.

“Right, yeah---” “Yes,” Mom corrected.

“Yes,” Younger Me repeated, turning to Isaac. “Can you pass me the turkey?”

My stomach dropped as the memory echoed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned further into the wall, rubbing my sides.

“Sure, Sis.” Isaac grabbed the dish and started to hand it over when Dad placed a hand on Isaac’s wrist.

“Y/N, you’ve already had a…generous helping. Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” he asked gently.

I thought I was sinking into the ground as I watched Younger Me grasp for words and could feel how flustered she was in my chest.

“You can’t blame Y/N, Dad. Ms. Murphy’s an amazing cook,” Isaac tried.

Mom scoffed. “It’s all that cooking that made her fat.”

The room was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dad looked both shocked and understanding as he stared at Mom, Mom was staring at a painting on another wall as she sipped her drink, and Isaac couldn’t take his eyes off the turkey dish in his hands.

I could feel the ball begin in Younger Me’s throat and the tears burned in her eyes as she tried to keep herself together.

“Y/M/N,” Dad admonished.

Mom cut her gaze towards him. “Don’t use that tone with me. Unlike you, I care for our daughter’s health. It’s especially important considering her abilities and we have no idea how obesity could impact them!”

Dad set the turkey dish down and Isaac started nibbling on some mac and cheese. “Don’t do that, I care about Y/N’s health. She has made a lot of progress thanks to my encouragement.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying that like the dance lessons that I paid for had nothing to do with it?”

“Oh yes, Y/M/N, only your contributions supported our daughter. When will you stop acting like you’ve financially supported our children this entire time? Don’t forget who gave you the money to start your agency.”

If looks could kill, Dad would have been dead a long time ago. Mom threw her head back and drained the last of her glass. When she set the glass down, she maintained a neutral expression.

“You can stop throwing that in my face now, Y/D/N; I’m the one who grew it without your or anyone else’s help!”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes and I watched Younger Me’s mind race.

Finally, she interrupted, “Did I tell you that I got all As for the semester?”

The statement made Mom and Dad pause and they relaxed a little.

“That’s wonderful, Y/N,” Dad praised.

“That’s my little sister,” Isaac added with a grin. “Have you solved any cases recently?”

Younger Me grinned. “Well, there’s this one murder that happened out in Cincinnati; a woman was found in a dumpster horribly attacked. The police think it’s a one-off but, that makes no sense since it matches the MO of several other murdered women who were found in the state.”

“What’s the MO?” Isaac asked, sipping some pinot noir.

 That was when I noticed that there was something different about Isaac’s eyes. The light brown orbs looked slightly more playful than usual, almost mischievous.

“Oh, she was bludgeoned to death with a blunt object and raped post-mortem,” Younger Me rattled off.

“Y/N, we are eating,” Mom said slowly.

Younger Me hesitated. “Sorry, Mom, I was just answering Isaac’s question.”

“You’ll get better at reading situations, hon,” Dad assured.

Mom shook her head and started stabbing at some greens on her plate. “I don’t recall having this issue with Isaac.” She glanced warmly at him. “You were always so polite and well-mannered.”

“I was well-mannered,” I huffed.

Isaac smiled sheepishly. “It’s different for different people. Y/N will be fine.”

Younger Me nodded slightly but I knew she was trying to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

“I hope so. You know, Vought is merciless about who they select to represent them. With every B-list hero in my agency, they are trained to hell in PR. There can be no mistakes, Y/N, not if you want a future as a supe.”

Younger Me nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

After a few moments where the only sounds were cutlery hitting the plates, Ms. Murphy stepped into the dining room. The portly older black woman rubbed her hands on the towel attached to her apron.

“Pardon me but, dessert is about ready. Should I have the table cleared?” Ms. Murphy asked.

Isaac stood. “It’s alright, Ms. Murphy, I’ll clear the table.”

“Isaac, there’s no need, we have people for that,” Mom insisted.

“It’s okay, I’m happy to help.”

Ms. Murphy nodded and shot a glance in Younger Me’s direction before slipping back into the kitchen. Isaac gracefully collected his plate and started going around the table, collecting ours.

“What a polite boy I have,” Dad complimented, playfully punching Isaac’s arm as he past.

“Despite all that success you’re so humble,” Mom added. “Remember this when you start to get big, Y/N.”

Younger Me nodded and once Isaac was at the kitchen door, she stood. “I’ll go help with dessert.”

Neither of them responded as she trailed behind Isaac, and I trailed behind her. The kitchen smelled like pecan pie and my mouth watered. Ms. Murphy was fantastic at her job, but no one could do desserts like her. She claimed that the secret was that she used full-fat everything.

“A growing girl like you needs that,” she quipped once.

In one corner of the room, Ms. Murphy was adding the finishing touches to the immaculate pecan pie perched on a silver server. Isaac set the dirty dishes on the counter and opened the dishwasher. I decided the island was the best position since it gave me a good view of the two of us and kept me at a decent distance.

“Let me help you,” Younger Me insisted.

Isaac paused and nodded. “Sure, sis.”

“I’m gonna go take this out to your folks,” Ms. Murphy said, pecan pie in hand. She leaned down to Younger Me. “You eat as much of this as you want.”

Younger Me smiled softly as the older woman disappeared into the kitchen.

“It’s really good to have you home, Isaac,” Younger Me commented as she handed Isaac plates.

“You keep saying that,” Isaac joked.

“It’s true. It’s like before when you’re around,” Younger Me said.

Isaac tensed a little but continued loading the dishes. “So, how have things been since I was gone?”

“Horrible,” I stated.

At that time, Mom and Dad cooled off from World War III which was their divorce but they still fought every time they saw each other. Even though Dad moved out a while ago, they would still see each other for my dance recitals, cheer events, or awards ceremonies. And whenever one of them dropped me off with the other, the tension made me sick but the worst part was how they bad-mouthed each other.

They both said things that no daughter should hear about her parents.

“Fine, things have been fine,” Younger Me lied.

I could have cried for her as she fidgeted with a plate. At the time, I didn’t want to burden Isaac since all the phone calls and text conversations we had were so positive. He was doing important work and I didn’t want to complain. But at the same time, he had to know things were bad.

“That’s good to hear,” Isaac replied. “I want to make sure my little sister’s okay.”

Then, Younger Me hesitated and handed him a plate. She bit her bottom lip and several moments past before she said, “Actually, sometimes, things get really, really bad. They both say some things that I hope they don’t mean and sometimes, I know what’s coming but it still freaks me out.” Younger Me shrugged. “Sometimes, I wish I could escape far away from here, like you did.” As innocent as the words were, little did I know at the time that it would be enough to set Isaac off. He straightened from loading the dishes and closed the dishwasher door stronger than he had to. When he turned to Younger Me, the pleasant expression he wore all night disappeared; his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

“You think I escaped?” he asked slowly.

Younger Me blinked and the realization of her words poured over her. “Isaac, I didn’t mean----”

“You think I took that job so that I could run away? It was a fantastic opportunity, and I would have been an idiot not to take it!” he hissed.

Younger Me flinched and I gritted my teeth. “No, it’s great, Isaac, really. We’re all so proud of you and you’ve been doing so much great work. I just meant that it must be nice to get away.”

“I would never want to get away from my family. Adults fight sometimes, Y/N, grow up.”

Isaac’s words stung against my face and I clenched my fists as Younger Me fumbled for words. As Younger Me pled more and more with Isaac, my anger grew.

“I’m sorry, Isaac, really. It’s okay, everything’s okay, don’t worry about us,” Younger Me insisted.

I scoffed. “Nothing was okay, and you had to know that.”

Then, Isaac’s gaze left Younger Me’s and burned into mine. “Stop overexaggerating, Y/N. You never went crazy and you got into the special supe school; you’re doing just fine, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was hard to tell whether Isaac’s tone or his insistence on being right was the nail in the coffin but I didn’t care as I charged around the island and stood in front of Younger Me.

“Are you kidding me? I had a million anxiety attacks, and I could barely sleep. No one noticed, though, because I almost killed myself keeping up good grades and trying not to eat too much because Mom and Dad would comment,” I snapped.

Isaac hesitated. “Like I said, though, you’re doing fine now.”

“I’m not fine!” I exclaimed. “I never was but I couldn’t show that because someone had to be the adult in this house. I still don’t understand how you all thought that was okay when it wasn’t.” I scoffed. “Wait, I have an idea, maybe it’s because perfect little Doctor Isaac couldn’t be burdened with the fact that he abandoned his little sister in hell!”

“I didn’t abandon you, it was a good job!” Isaac argued.

The laugh that erupted from my chest was spiteful and it had no joy or air in it. Then, I couldn’t stop laughing, to the point that I doubled over. Isaac must have thought I had lost it but I didn’t care as I straightened up.

“What are you laughing about?” he asked, frowning.

“You could have gotten a surgeon job anywhere in the country and you’re telling me the best offer was ten thousand miles away? You graduated at the top of the class, you had to have other offers.” I huffed. “I had to be so deep in denial but I knew, I had to know. But what does it matter as long as you’re still the favorite.”

“I’m not the favorite; you’re the one they made a superhero,” he defended.

“Please, Isaac, they think I’m a freak at worst and a profitable freak show at best. They never criticized you, they only ever did that with me.” I sniffed and looked up at him. “By the way, why didn’t you ever tell them that I wasn’t fat?”

Isaac hesitated. “What?”

“You were in school for, what, ten years and you became an expert on the human body and health. You could have stopped them from tormenting me about food and my body, but you didn’t. Why did you never defend me?”

His silence almost sent me into another fit of mad laughter, that and the stunned expression on his face. The giddiness and rage that flowed through my veins was almost dizzying as I stared at Isaac. I didn’t blink for so long that his face began to blur. Then, my legs started moving and I wandered around the state-of-the-art kitchen.

“You were always better at this than me-----the performing. It must have been easy coasting as an only child and every gold star, and every A was praised.” I paused and poked at the pot of greens. “They were happy back then.”

“Y/N, you’re talking crazy,” Isaac insisted.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not. All the overthinking and overanalyzing finally helped me realize the truth: you all hate me. No matter what cases I solved, how well I did in school, or how much weight I lost; it was never good enough.” Isaac was silent and I think it was the first time he didn’t know what to say. It was okay because I knew exactly what to say.

“This whole time, I thought that I had to earn people’s love and that if I just worked hard enough, I could get Mom to call me pretty or Dad to post a picture of us without trying to spite Mom.” I finally made eye contact with Isaac. “You made me think that I was broken.”

Then, the kitchen door swung open behind me and Mom and Dad entered the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“We heard yelling,” Dad added.

I smiled as I turned to them. “You all made me think I was worthless unless I was perfect. I thought I was going to die so many nights because I made one mistake in an essay or lost a friend because my powers creeped them out. But none of you cared.”

None of them spoke and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear any of them. All they could do was lie since I finally realized their true feelings.

My family hated me.

None of them ever really loved me.

My vison blurred as I tried to make eye contact with them again. “How could you think I could end up perfect when you all screwed me up so bad? You make me question myself so much that I’m not even sure what I want anymore.”

I could feel the sobs coming on but I willed them to stay at bay for a moment.

“I’ve met a lot of amazing people at Godolkin, crazy, talented people. But two of them stand out. One of them is this standoffish bigender person who always has a comeback but is actually the kindest person I’ve ever met. The other one is this amazing girl who can see the brighter side of things no matter what, even when people betray her.” I sighed. “And I like both of them, I want to be with both of them, and I don’t know what any of it means and as much as that terrifies me, I’m so happy that I met them.”

They must have all been stunned but I couldn’t focus on them as my chest felt lighter but my throat constricted and I could feel my heart rate pick up. I slowly walked away from the oven and back to my original spot at the island. My hands crept onto the marble counter and I realized that my knees were wobbling.

“You know what’s funny, Isaac?”

Isaac jumped but eyed me.

“If you wanted to abandon me, you didn’t have to go to another continent. Mom and Dad managed to do it and I saw them every day.”

Then, the sobs broke from me and I pressed my hands to my mouth, trying to shove them back in but there was no point. My shoulders shook as I slipped to the ground, the pain barely registering to my brain as I hiccupped into my hands. The tears were hot as they ran down my face and everything hurt so bad and felt so good at the same time; it was like an emotional massage.

Everything that I thought and felt was finally out in the open and none of it was even real.

For a second, I thought a toddler was wailing at the top of their lungs but I almost started laughing again when I realized it was me.

This was it; I was going to be stuck in Cate’s head forever; alone and with nothing to show for it.

The first thing I noticed was something warm against my back. The second was a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. The grip was firm but non-threatening like the owner wanted me to know they were there. The third thing I noticed was Marie’s brown eyes staring back at me as she knelt in front of me.

I paused in my sobbing and sniffled. “Ar-are y-y-you r-r-real?”

“Yeah, I’m real,” she assured.

Her words made me freeze and I started trying to wipe my face, but Marie carefully grabbed my hands. Her thumbs rubbed the top of my hands, and I could feel my sobs slowing down.

“H-h-how’d y-y-you g-get h-here?”

“We found you and Cate and somehow got transported into her head,” Marie explained.

I sniffed, wincing at my congested nose.

“We got to go through a lot of memories, freshie,” Jordan mumbled behind me.

I tensed in their grip and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Andre standing off to the side. He glared at my family with so much malice that my parents cowered next to Isaac.

I gasped. “Th-this i-is s-so embarrassing. H-how m-much of t-that d-did y-you hear?”

“We heard everything you told your brother,” Andre stated.

Marie placed one of her hands on my face. “Breathe, Y/N, you’re hyperventilating.”

It took a couple of minutes, but I managed to even my breathing and once I did, I felt like shrinking away from her and Jordan.

“I can’t believe you were going through all this and never said anything,” Jordan muttered.

I shrugged. “How could I? You, Andre, Cate, Luke, Marie, and everyone in Si Chi are perfect. If I was going to be accepted, I had to be perfect but now you all know that I’m a mess.”

Marie grabbed my other hand again. “Everyone’s a mess; it doesn’t mean something is wrong with you.”

“If we’ve learned anything by wandering around in Cate’s head, it’s that everyone’s a mess,” Jordan mentioned.

I shook my head. “Don’t say that to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Jordan quickly rattled off everything they saw: from Cate and Indira meeting to Andre and Cate cheating to Jordan knowing about Brink drugging Luke to Marie killing her parents. Even though he was brief, everything hit an emotional nerve and it almost shook me back into being myself.

“So don’t act like you’re special or anything, we’re all screw-ups,” Jordan concluded.

“And just so you know, I don’t think that you liking me and Jordan makes you weird or bad,” Marie confessed.

At her words, I jerked my head back to Jordan. “You told her?”

“No, you said it while you were yelling at your brother!” Jordan exclaimed.

My face warmed at the realization, and I groaned as I buried my head into Jordan’s shoulder. This day could not have gotten any worse.

“Wait, you told Jordan before you told me?” Marie asked.

“I was going to tell you but then I got sucked in here,” I murmured.

Marie huffed. “Well, you’ll both have to make it up to me once we get out of here.”

Wait, both?

Marie couldn’t be serious; it would be impossible for her to agree to any of this. It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. That didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster though as I leaned away from Jordan’s shoulder to look at her.

Before I could say anything, Jordan and Marie both helped me to my feet.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Jordan offered.

“Uh-huh.”

At that moment, Andre approached my family and they tried to scramble away from him.

“You should all know that Y/N is the best thing to come from you shitty people. If I see you outside of here, we might have some problems,” Andre threatened.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” Mom begged.

It was hard for me not to laugh as Andre slowly backed away, flipping them off as he went. I laughed a little as he came closer to us.

“Thanks, Andre,” I said.

“No problem. Does anyone know how we get out of here?” he asked.

“We have to find Cate; I saw her briefly earlier but I haven’t been able to find her since,” I admitted.

“If you found her once, you can find her again,” Jordan said.

“Not unless I find you.”

In an instant, my mom’s dining room turned into Cate’s dorm, complete with green accents and comfortable furniture. She sat on her bed, eyes bloodshot and downturned. Marie was the first to approach her and Jordan and I trailed behind her.

“Cate, I’m so glad we found you,” Marie said.

“You have to wake up,” Jordan added.

Cate shook her head. “I don’t want to. You all can wake up but I’m going to stay here.”

Marie frowned. “You’re going to die? But, there’s so much we can do once we’re out of here.”

“Yeah, we can expose what’s going on at the school but we need your help,” Jordan insisted.

No matter what anyone said, Cate remained unresponsive. Both Jordan and Marie tried to reason with her while Andre snapped at her for everything that happened. All I could do was watch and wonder if her behavior made sense. In a way, her entire world fell apart and she’d exposed everything in all of us. She must feel alone but what did she think would happen?

How could she incense me and make me feel sorry for her at the same time?

Finally, I stepped over to her and bent down so that we were eye to eye. “Despite all the psychological torment I experienced in here, all I can think about is what else you haven’t told us.” I swallowed. “Because I have a really bad feeling that if Shetty used you like this, she would use me too.”

“No, Y/N, Indira wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s been in your head since you were a kid, Cate, it would make sense that she would go after Y/N too and you wouldn’t notice it,” Jordan pointed out.

Cate hesitated and then looked at her gloved hands. “This is all my fault.”

“You can make it right but not if you stay in here,” Marie said.

I didn’t know how much time had passed as Cate mulled over her options. All I knew was as she was deciding, my heart continued pounding in my ears as the lightning cracked above our heads. My hands shook as the cracking got louder and louder.

Then, it stopped.

[golbrocklovely]

a witching hour // sam golbach

A/N: so i actually thought of this fic as a colby fic first, but i needed a fic idea for sam and figured this one worked well for him as well. idk if you've ever seen halloweentown two, but there is a party scene where kalabar turns everyone into what their costumes are, and that's kinda what this one is like. except with a bit of sexy twist lol hope you enjoy and happy 13 nights of halloween !!

prompt: something is incredible off at sam and colby's halloween party. everyone is acting like their costumes, and nothing makes sense. and then you run into sam… dressed as a vampire. || fem!reader x sam golbach

trigger warning: vampire!sam, cursing, drinking, party scene, mentions of blood and killers but you don't see any of that, blood drinking obviously, crush-confession, twist ending?, manipulation powers used on reader, possessive language used by sam, also he's a bit of a dick in this lol but only slightly

word count: 3381

I constantly run late to everything: meetings, work, important events, and on this night... parties.

It was Sam and Colby's annual Halloween bash. After yet another successful Hell Week, the boys were throwing an all-out banger with every influencer in sight. And I, like usual, ran late to the party.

I'm not sure if you can be late to a party like this, but my texts from Sam and Colby said otherwise.

My excuse this time? I couldn't figure out my costume. I couldn't decide between two costumes, so I ended up going as a witch. Basic, I know, but classic. I finally called an uber, after pregaming a little at my apartment, and headed over to their place. On the way over, a flash of green lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment, in the same direction as their house. I stared at the window, puzzled. There's no way only one flash of thunder would happen if it was going to rain. Especially being green. It must have been a light show or fireworks nearby.

I got dropped off at the front of their house, sending them a quick text that I was outside. As I got to their gate, where usually there would have been a line with a security guard, there was nothing. Maybe I wasn't late after all and instead was super early. Checking the flyer they sent out, that wasn't true. It was already after midnight, and the party started at ten.

I walked into their property, shutting the gate behind me. I expected to see tons of people out front, since that usually was the case; but there was no one. The music was still playing loudly in the house, so there must have been people inside. As I walked towards the front door, I passed by a pile of Barbie dolls.

Who would bring a bunch of Barbies with them?

I glanced at the dolls, bending down, and picking one up. She was very pretty, but her outfit was unlike other Barbie fits I had seen before. Something about it was very revealing for a kids' toy. Granted, the last time I played with Barbies was when I was 10 so maybe my memory wasn't proof enough.

I stared at the doll's face a bit longer. Something about it was so familiar. She looked like someone I knew in the eeriest way. Staring at it too long, I thought I saw it blink. I lightly dropped the doll on the ground, standing back up again.

Just when I was about to open the front door, a soft 'meow' echoed behind me. I turned around and saw two cats, one all black and then another one.... that was pink.

Who the hell would dye their cat pink?

I wanted to reach out and pet them, but they scattered from the noise in front of me. The front door had opened on its own. I stepped forward, walking into Sam and Colby's home.

The place was completely trashed.

Furniture was ripped up, the mirror was smashed in, tables flipped over, cups all over the ground. It looked like a stampede ran through the house. I walked over the broken glass, looking around for anyone. I could see out the back door that no one was there either. Or if they were, they were hiding.

"Sam? Colby? Guys?" I called out, trying to reach for a light.

"Don't do that!" Responded a soft voice from a closet nearby.

I turned around and saw a friend of mine, Sarah, dressed as Rapunzel. She waved me over, opening the door quickly. I jumped over the broken furniture and made it over to her.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" I asked as she closed the door.

"I'm sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rapunzel." She smiled.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, very funny, Sarah. But tell me. What happened? Did someone break into the house?"

"I don't really remember everything that happened. Everyone was outside, having fun. It was like the lantern festival! And then, a witch appeared on top of the house and yelled out something. It must have been a spell of some sort. And everybody started running." Sarah gasped, recounting the tale.

"How is that possible? And lantern festival? Why are you taking this costume to heart? I don't think this is the time for that." I glared, annoyed.

"This isn't a costume. This is how I always dress." She argued quietly.

"Rapunzel!" Someone yelled from behind the door. "Let me in! It's Velma."

"What's the password?" Sarah questioned, raising up a frying pan in defense.

Where the fuck did you get a frying pan from?

"Scooby snacks." Replied the voice.

"Oh okay," Sarah opened the door politely. "It is you Velma! I just had to be sure."

"You can never be too safe out there." Alice, another friend of mine, responded. I glanced up and down at her costume: Velma. From Scooby Doo.

I huffed, "Okay, you both seriously need to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

They both gasped. Sarah covered her ears lightly, in unison they hushed, "Language!"

"You're kidding me, right?" I deadpanned.

"Who are you?" Alice questioned.

"This is.... uh," Sarah started, then turned to me, smiling. "You actually haven't said your name."

"I'm Y/N..... we've known each other for like five years?" I scowled.

"We have?" They replied.

I rubbed my temples, feeling like my brain was going pop out of my eyes from how annoyed and confused I was. "Alright, can either one of you explain what is happening right now? Quickly."

"I can't remember much, but I've been searching for some clues while I was running around the house. What I remember happening was a witch of some kind appeared on top of the roof-" Alice began.

"Said some form of spell, and everyone started running? Yeah, 'Rapunzel' told me that already." I quipped.

"It wasn't just any spell, it was spell turned everyone into their costumes... whatever that means." Alice stated, putting her hands on her hips.

My face dropped. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh! Green lightning flashed over the sky when she said the spell!" Sarah jumped, excitedly. "She must have been an evil witch."

"Witches aren't real. It most likely was a trick of light, kind of like what magicians use to hide their tricks." Alice mentioned.

"I saw the lightning on my way over here...." I shook my head, sighing. "There's no way this is real. You guys must be pranking me or something. Is this Sam and Colby's doing?"

"I don't know who a 'Sam' or 'Colby" is." Sarah replied innocently.

"The guys that invited you to this party??" I pulled out my phone, pulling up a picture that one of them had posted on their snapchats. "These guys!"

"The vampire one went upstairs, and the pirate one is outside fighting a prince in the backyard." Alice pointed out, pointing to Sam, and then Colby.

"Fighting? What do you mean by that?" I furrowed my brow.

"With swords." Alice said plainly.

"Oh no! Your hand is bleeding!" Sarah gaped, gazing at Alice's hand.

"I must have cut it looking around for clues." Alice commented.

"What clues are you even...." I grumbled, trailing off and glaring up at the ceiling.

Sarah wrapped her hair around Alice's hand, holding it lightly. She then began to sing. "Flower, gleam and glow..."

Her hair began to light up slowly, starting from her scalp and eventually ending at the ends of her braided hair.

I can only imagine how expense that wig was.

Sarah pulled her hair away from Alice's cut... and it was gone.

I blinked. "I'm sorry, am I super drunk right now, or did your hair just heal her cut?"

"Jinkies..." Alice whispered, staring at her hand and blushing.

I took a deep breath, needing to get out of this closet. "I'm gonna go find Sam."

"He's a vampire, right? My mom warned me about men with sharp teeth. Be careful." Sarah informed.

"Right..." I opened the closet door, turning back around for a moment. "Hey Alice? I mean, Velma?"

"Yes?" She asked.

I grabbed her glasses off her face, dropping them onto the floor.

Sarah, Rapunzel, whatever, frowned dramatically. "Well, that wasn't very nice.

"My glasses.... I can't see without my glasses." Alice, Velma, whatever waved her hands around, trying to find where I dropped them.

"You don't even wear glasses! Oh my God, you guys are the worst!" I groaned, stepping out the closet and shutting the door.

I rushed over to the stairs, needing to get upstairs as soon as possible. As I reached the top, I gazed down over the railing. I watched as someone dressed as Ghostface ran after.... Britney Spears.

Britney Spears was at this party? Like 'Baby One More Time' Britney? There's no way. Maybe they weren't joking about the witch turning everyone into- NO. This is all some weird joke, probably pulled by Sam and Colby because of how often I'm late.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is NOT happening.

I opened the bedroom door to what used to be Colby's room. I wanted to see the entire backyard from a safe distance. The room was dark, the only light coming from outside by the drawn curtains. I raced over to the windows, looking around outside. The backyard was equally as trashed.

A man-wolf monster stood on top of the slide for the pool, letting out a deep, animalistic howl. By the basketball courts, Colby was sword fighting with a guy dressed in a prince costume. Other people, or characters, were hiding around, peaking out occasionally from their spots. And I swore for a moment I saw someone fly away on a broom stick.

"What the fuck?" I whispered, my eyes widening at the scene.

"It's dangerous out there." A familiar voice rang out.

I jumped, a squeak leaving my lips as I turned around. In the shadows of the room was Sam, gazing at me mischievously.

"Oh my God, Sam. You scared the shit out of me." I clutched my chest, taking a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on?"

"A witch did this to us." Sam replied casually.

"That's what Alice and Sarah said. That a witch turned everyone into their costumes. Wait, how do you remember?" I inquired.

He shrugged, stepping towards me. "I'm just a generic vampire. So I guess I remember everything, and I'm still me."

"And since Colby dressed up as a pirate, he thinks he's a swash-buckler?" I joked half-heartedly.

"I guess so." Sam chuckled.

I questioned, "How long will this last?"

"An hour. So, in ten minutes it will be over." He confirmed, crossing his arms tightly.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, "Oh, well that's good. Since I think I saw Ghostface trying to kill Britney Spears."

"That would be such a waste of blood..." Sam's voice deepened.

I leaned away from his voice, "That was kinda freaky of you to say."

He smirked. "I can't help it. I'm a vampire."

"For ten more minutes. Maybe stay over there until this is all over." I hissed, uncomfortable.

"Why?" He leaned towards me, still far away, "You think I'm gonna bite you?"

"Probably." I teased.

Sam shook his head. "I would only do that if you asked me to."

“Well that's not gonna happen. So, let's stop talking about it.” I sassed.

"I think I can sit next to you though." His body appeared next to mine, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I jumped up, turning to him. "Jesus! You have fucking speed abilities?"

He hummed, "I guess so. You know what other powers I have?"

"No, what?" I jeered slightly.

"I can make people do what I say." He grinned wickedly, his fangs shining in the light.

I raised an eyebrow at him, "How do you even know that?"

"I told all the people hiding in this room to leave and go somewhere else. Some of them are outside in the backyard." He answered.

"Well, that was a little rude of you to do." I narrowed my eyes.

He scoffed. "This is my house. I'm allowed to kick people out of it."

"I guess you can. But maybe be a bit more conside-" I started.

He cut me off, his tone changed. "How would you feel if I drank your blood?"

"What?" I turned and looked at him.

His eyes caught mine, and suddenly I was entranced. "How would you feel if I drank your blood? Be honest."

The truth came out of me easily, I couldn't stop it from slipping from my lips. "I wouldn't mind it."

"And why is that?" He continued, standing up.

"Because I've had a crush on you for a while. Plus, vampires are really hot. And you as a vampire is, like, extra hot." I admitted in a daze.

"Wow...." Sam beamed, pulling his gaze away. "Now that's insane."

The moment I could think for myself, I spun around covering my face. "Oh my God, Sam! Why would you make me say that?!"

"I didn't make you say anything! I just made you tell the truth." He explained defensively, almost jokingly.

I whined, "Still! You didn't have to make me do that."

"So... do you want me to bite you?" He asked again.

I turned back to him, pissed. "No, I don't."

"Really?" His eyes somehow caught mine again, and I was lost. "Be honest."

"I would totally be into it," I squeezed my eyes shut as Sam looked away smugly. "Oh my God, you suck."

"Only if you want me to...." He teased.

"That's not..." When I opened my eyes again, his were already boring into mine. I felt lightheaded, and immediately could barely think. "Fun...ny."

"Get closer to me." He ordered.

My body moved without my permission, stepping up to Sam. I could feel his warmth radiate against my skin from how close we were together.

"Do you actually have a crush on me?" He queried.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, I think so."

"You think so?" His hands trailed up and down my arms, soothingly. "Would it be a bit stronger if I bit you?"

"It would." I revealed, unable to lie.

"Okay then. Good to know," he snickered. "Tilt your head and show me your neck."

I followed Sam's command, tilting my head to the side and allowing him more access to my neck. Sam's hold around me tightened, his mouth lowering down until he was almost against my neck.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Y/N. I would never hurt you," his voice was just above a whisper. Sultry and seductive. "Also.... I like you too."

I exhaled, "Wha-?"

Suddenly his fangs sunk deep into my neck. A soft wince escaped my throat, my body tensing up. I gripped onto his arms, my nails almost digging in. It was a bit painful but exhilarating at the same time. I felt high, each breath feeling like a rush of dopamine.

Sam moaned against my neck, removing his mouth for a second. His tongue lapped at my skin, getting all of the extra blood that fell from his mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly."

"Sam, I think you shou-" I mumbled, my voice raspy.

He plunged his teeth back in, a harsh gasp falling from my lips. I thought of pushing him away, but instead my hands pulled him in more. My vision began to blur, and my legs could barely stay up on their own. I felt my legs give out, but Sam held me up, his torso crushing into mine.

"Don't worry, Y/N, I got you. I'll never let you go. You're mine, forever." He growled.

"S-Sam." I choked.

My eyes began to flutter, my breathing slowing down to an almost halt. And still, he continued to drink and drink. I felt like I was floating and falling all at the same time. And I didn't even care. It felt so good to be in his arms, to have him consume me.

I could hear a soft whisper in the distance. It sounded familiar but was muffled. It grew louder and louder by second, saying the same thing over and over again. Finally, as it sounded closer, I could make out what it was saying: my name.

And then like a freight train, someone screamed it. "Y/N!"

My eyes popped open, focusing immediately on Sam's face. He was looking down at me concerned, almost in a panic.

"Y/N, oh thank God. I thought we were gonna have to call 911 or something." Sam sat back on his knees, his chest heaving.

I glanced around as my eyes adjusted to the light. I was in Colby's room, but from an angle I wasn't used to. I tried to sit up, suddenly realizing I was on the floor. Sam propped up an arm around me sitting me up and leaning me against the couch.

"Wha... happened?" I uttered, rubbing my neck.

"Well, we were all downstairs partying, and you said you didn't feel good all of sudden. So we both came up here, and I went to use the bathroom. And when I came out, you were passed out on the floor." He responded, worried.

I squinted at him, confused out of my mind. "So... there wasn't a witch that turned everyone into their costumes?"

He blinked. "Should I still call 911? How hard did you hit your head?"

"No. No, I'm okay." Sam helped me up slowly, still propping me against the couch, "I must have had one hell of a dream when I passed out."

"Are you feeling okay? Tell me, seriously." He looked into my eyes.

I glanced away quickly, "Yeah, I'm... fine. I don't even feel drunk. What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "It's 1:05."

"After midnight..." I realized, muttering.

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm okay Sam. Really. You know how I can get sleepy after I drink too much. Maybe that's what happened." I tried to reassure.

"Yeah maybe..." He trailed off.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." I stated, standing up completely.

Sam stepped towards me. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'm okay." I grinned at his nervousness, "Seriously, I'm fine. Don't worry."

I trudged over to the bathroom, leaning against the sink to collect my thoughts.

So.... that was all a dream I had while passed out? Holy shit, I'm never drinking again.

I looked up, scanning my face slowly. I looked the same as I did when I left my house. Except, I had no recollection of how I got here. I mean, in the dream I took an uber... so maybe that's what happened? But God; that dream felt so real. It truly felt like Sam was drinking my blood and draining me. And holy shit, I confessed I had feelings for him!

I sighed deeply, looking over my face once more. My eyes drifted further down and widened at the sight. Two fang marks were right by my jugular, right where Sam had been biting me.

"Sam! Can you come in here for a second?" I yelled, my breathing speeding up.

A moment later the door opened, Sam entering. "What's wrong?"

I spun to him, glaring. "Why do I have two fang marks in my neck... like a vampire bit me?"

"What are you talking about?" He puzzled.

I pointed to my neck. "Right here! What are these?"

"Y/N, there's nothing there." He informed.

"Yes there i-" I turned around, looking in the mirror. He was right. The marks were gone. My skin was clear, as if they never existed in the first place. "Oh."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam wrapped an arm around me sweetly, rubbing my back.

I stuttered, "Y-Yeah. I must have just saw something."

"Must have. Because like I said, there's nothing there." His gaze met mine in the mirror, "Right, Y/N?"

"Right. There's nothing there." I said dreamily.

"Good," he smiled warmly. "Now, let's get back down to the party. If you're feeling up to it, of course."

I nodded, taking Sam's hand and leaving the bedroom, following him back to the party.

[seiwas]

hi sel!! i missed seeing you around dash - i hope you’re enjoying your lil vacation!

n for your lil game.. if it appeals.. may i suggest touya + rain/storm ?

scar hello!! sorry i've been on and off these past months 🥹 i missed being on here too!! i have been enjoying my lil vacation though 🥺 it's been a while since i've just chilled at home! thank you for sending in a prompt 💗

contains: fallen angel touya, visions in dreams, kind of disorientating what's reality vs not, reader tries melatonin, there is a fire

touya + storm

there's a storm outside your window.

the rattling of string lights on your balcony jolts you awake, the wind howling an eery melody. this weather is common at this time of the year, but tonight, you feel uneasy. you think there's something on your front yard.

your footsteps are light as you make your way down your staircase, the flashlight on your left hand clutched tightly as you reach for the umbrella by the door.

it's zero visibility on your front yard, heavy rainfall being dragged sideways by the wind. you squint, flashing your light at the area in front of you.

a broken branch from your neighbor's tree dangles loosely towards your fence, but you can't make out anything else apart from that. you contemplate stepping outside to get a better look, but a burst of light streaks itself across the sky, lightning flashing before thunder rumbles loud enough that it reverberates in your heartbeat. a sudden chill breezes over you, your skin prickling from strands of hair standing.

your flashlight flickers, the light going out once before you tap it on your wrist twice. and when it turns back on, you think you can make out a figure hunched over the shrub at the far right of your garden.

you flash your light over the area to get a better look but it turns black―your vision or the light, you're not sure.

the next time you open your eyes, you're tucked in bed, squinting your eyes at the brightness of sunlight.

a dream? you wonder. the jacket you're certain you reached for is still right by your vanity, untouched. could be.

your front yard is trashed, just like you expected it to be, if your subconscious was trying to tell you anything from last night's dream. plants are uprooted, with small branches scattered all over the grass. you suck in a breath when you spot the broken branch from last night just as you saw it―still barely hanging on as it dangles over your fence.

you must have heard it break off in your sleep, you tell yourself. the mind can be quick in associating these things.

things become weird after that.

you get more visions in your sleep, mostly when the storm beats heavy raindrops against your window. sometimes, they're the same as the first time―instances of you searching outside but blacking out and waking in your bed the next morning. others, they're stranger, more vivid. you see a man with white hair turning red at the tips.

he comes to you in flashes―in between lightning strikes and thunder claps; in fragments, distorted by sheets of rainfall. you can never fully make out his face, but his eyes glow a striking blue amidst the darkness that often surrounds him.

the melatonin makes it worse. for a few nights now, you've begun to see more of his silhouette, similarly hunched over that shrub from the first night, except it grows taller, almost as if he's standing.

you wake up every time he almost reaches full height. but were you even really sleeping?

your therapist tells you it must be stress. this particular time at work is busy, after all. and, "halloween festivities can be impressionable when the mind is tired."

so you let it go, hoping that the dreams disappear eventually.

but then you find a feather. it's long, far too long to belong to any animal you know of; the color is charcoal black, with its tips slightly crisp as if it's been burnt. you find it by the shrub, where the silhouette crouches over every night in your dreams.

your palms sweat as you handle it, a mixture of anxiety and fear. you feel sick to your stomach; scared and disoriented. what even is real?

you call your friend, midoriya, to keep you company. he's no cynic, but if anyone could think up an explanation for anything, it'd have to be him. he has notebooks and journals full of analyses and theories on a bunch of weird things.

"can you tell if he's... uh..." he tries to find the words, as if trying not to scare you, "demonic?"

though with how jittery he is, you're pretty sure he's just as, if not more, nervous.

"i don't know yet," you admit, setting down his blanket for the night, "i guess he does feel kinda angry, but..." you think back to those blue eyes, trying to discern the exact emotion in them, "not at me i think. i don't know."

midoriya jots down some more notes as rain increasingly patters outside your window. you're sure he'll spend the whole night figuring this out from the way he continues to ask you more questions.

that night, you dream of the figure again, but something about this time feels ominous; larger. it starts out with his face, lightning illuminating glimpses of his expressions. you see scars across his cheeks and his hair turning a shade darker. another crackle of lightning brings him further away, hunched over the shrub again, except this time, he begins to stand; and you're prepared to wake up again right before he shows himself in full height―except you don't.

he stands before you still concealed by the downpour, but his presence is simultaneously chilling yet glorious. and you don't expect it, what happens next―the unfurling of wings right by his sides. they span the width of your entire yard, large and so unlike anything you've ever seen before.

then, an alarm breaks, and you wake, neither in bed nor on your front porch.

your feet touch wet asphalt, the sensation hardly differentiating itself from how drenched you are by the rain. thick smoke fills your lungs as you stand before a blazing house a few streets down yours. sirens sound around you―an ambulance, a firetruck, and a police car, all managing the commotion.

people evacuate their nearby houses as the policemen round them up at a safe distance. out of everyone in the scene, you seem the closest of all, the heat from the fire nearly licking at your cheeks.

"everybody, please step back!" one of the firemen shout. to your right, another one hurriedly hauls a body down to the stretcher beside you. a paramedic immediately tends to the person before you can even catch a look.

"please step back!" the fireman closest to you calls out, but the sound is muffled in your ears, almost by a dull ringing and the subtle sound of wings flapping. an unexplainable urge pulls you toward the body.

"hey―!" the fireman tries to call for your attention, but you ignore him, inching closer towards the stretcher. you tiptoe to get a better look, and as you catch a glimpse of the body's face―

the fireman holds you by the shoulder, "i said―!" as another paramedic addresses you and asks, "do you know this man?"

and right there on the stretcher is him―white hair with red at the tips; his cheeks are an angry shiny red, like its been melted, burnt. he remains only semi-conscious, eyes half-lidded as he is tended to. but when you peer over, he blinks and manages to look at you.

you find the same striking blue.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello, dear! ♡ I saw your requests were back open and I was wondering if I could request more Thranduil smut where the female reader (human) does everything she can to befriend Legolas just so she can get into Thranduil's pants "Do you think I don't know what you are doing?" 🔥🔥🔥 (modern or not. I will let you decide!). Please and thank you so much. I hope you are having a great week.

I hope you like this!

“Mr. Oropherion”

Prompt: "Do you think I don't know what you're doing?" | Setting: Library, and then the bedroom.

Pairing: Modern Thranduil x Fem Reader (Second person POV)

Themes: Smut | Soft | Slow burn | Modern AU

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol use and drunkenness | Age difference | Nicknames | Degradation | Dirty talk | Kissing | Authority kink | Penetrative sex

Word count: 4.3K words

Summary: Finishing university and having to spend the night at your best friend’s place takes a surprising turn when his father reciprocates the feelings you had been secretly harbouring for him.

Rating: 🔥🔥🔥| Minors DNI | 18+

Want to be tagged? Want to know the rules? Read all here.

It was close to four in the morning when you brought Legolas back home.

The graduation party had been a resounding success; everyone had enjoyed themselves. Legolas got into a drinking game with Gimli, and neither backed down. Bottles quickly emptied, stacks of glasses grew, and then, just when it looked like the contest was heading for a draw, Gimli burped, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head, and he fell right off his chair. That was when you knew the time had come to take your friend home. Gimli was taken by Aragorn, Boromir, and his brother, so he could sleep at their place.

"My hands tingle," Legolas suddenly mumbled, before slumping deeper into the seat and snoring loudly.

You shook your head and smiled to yourself. Tingling hands? He’s going to be in for one hell of a hangover, you mused. And begging for aspirin the moment he opened his eyes—or perhaps a quick death. Maybe both, depending on how bad the after-effects were. You turned your attention to the road. It was empty at this time, but the incessant rain only served to slow down the taxi. Still, you could make out the bright neon lights and the lightning that split the sky in white, hot flashes of light. The residential area of the city soon neared, and you gaped at all the apartment buildings. It still shocked you that Legolas and his father live in such an expensive place in the city.

Thoughts of Legolas’s father had you reaching into your purse for your phone. You would need help taking Legolas up to the appartment. It didn’t take long, and you were promised someone would be there to help you. You squinted into the gloom and pointed out the correct building to the driver. Sure enough, Feren, Thranduil’s assistant, was out by the main entrance, wallet in hand, to pay the driver. Your apologies were endless and earnest, and Feren brushed them off with a friendly wave of the hand. He and Thranduil had been up most of the night anyway, going over an important contract, finishing up things just before your call came. The three of you had to walk in fits and starts, as Legolas was taller and swayed constantly. It was a trial, taking him through the ground floor, ignoring the stares of the stunned concierges. Then the lift, where Legolas nearly tilted onto the door. Then the top floor, where again, Legolas kept swaying and dragging the two of you with him.

"Will there be a repeat of this after he comes back from his trip?" muttered a highly amused Feren.

"I don’t know," you replied. "Next time it will be Aragorn’s turn to be the designated responsible adult, so you’ll have to ask him."

Feren nearly choked on his laughter. "You lot all take turns?"

"Oh yes," you mumbled, relieved when a familiar pair of doors drew closer. "We drew straws the moment we all became friends in University. Gimli has been grumbling about this arrangement ever since."

Feren snorted and gave you the apartment key. And nearly toppled into the corridor the moment you opened the door. "Easy there, big fella," You managed to brace yourself against the doorpost, to stop all three of you from falling flat on your faces. "Not all that far now; go to bed and sleep."

"I don’t need sleep," Legolas mumbled in his sleep. "I need Tauriel. Where is she? Where is my Tauriel?"

"Sleeping in her own bed," you said and smiled, thinking of the ring you helped Legolas pick out. "And probably thinking of all the things the two of you could do on your trip. Now come on," you let Feren lead the way to Legolas’s bedroom. "Off to bed with you."

"Mmm-hmm," Legolas breathed and allowed himself to be put to bed. His snores started again the moment his head hit the pillow, leaving you and Feren with enough time to dry off his hair and remove his socks and shoes.

"I’ll be heading out then," Feren said, satisfied that his boss’s son was settled in. "Mr. Oropherion said he’d like a word with you after you’ve settled in the guest bedroom."

"Of course," you managed, after having remembered Legolas’s invitation for you to stay over, and rest. "I’ll go see what the old man wants."

With that, Feren said his goodbyes and left. And you, not knowing what else to do with yourself, made your way to the guest bedroom. Everything was just like you remembered it: the comfortable bed and softer silk sheets, the quaint furniture, and the delicate wallpaper, all covered in roses. You noticed none of it while you put your things away and left your duffel bag in a corner. A bath had to come first to get the smell of that party off of you. And how wonderful it was to feel steam and hot water, the soap that felt so good as it glided over your skin. You showered for as long as reasonably possible, and then, one glorious hot shower later, you threw on a nightgown and flannel robe, and padded into the hall.

Thranduil wasn’t there, and he wasn’t in the kitchen. You were certain he didn’t want to meet you in his private rooms, so that left you with only one other place. The library. You took your time, relishing the feel of the soft carpet under your feet, the beautiful paintings that graced the walls, and the photographs. There were so many of them that you probably wouldn’t have been able to count them all. A door then opened, making you jump and clutch your chest in shock.

"Mr. Oropherion," you managed. Thranduil had been standing by the door, still dressed in his office clothes. You tried hard not to stare as he cut a stunning figure in the crisp white shirt and black pants he wore. His hair, usually pulled up into a neat bun, was loose now. "I… I didn’t mean to keep you waiting or anything."

Thranduil studied you keenly, his vivid blue eyes never leaving yours. "It is all right," he said finally, showing no sign of anger or impatience. "Come in. There is coffee if you would like something hot to drink."

"Please," you said cheerfully, perking up at the thought of hot coffee.

And being in Thranduil’s company, of course, although you would never say it out loud. That was the main reason you befriended Legolas in the first place—to try and get closer to his father. Thranduil was a most achingly handsome man, possessing the same platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, and strange but pretty leaf-shaped ears as his son had. Captivating and very much the man in charge, Thranduil was also a mystery, a man who was fiercely guarded about himself. Even his own son knew only so much about him, and Thranduil barely spoke to you, although you were frequently visiting Legolas. Now? Now he invited you to his library of all things, with a need to talk to you. You swallowed and walked up to him.

"Feren said you wanted to have a word with me, Mr. Oropherion," you said after going inside and closing the door behind you. "May I ask what for?"

Thranduil said nothing, only gesturing for you to make yourself comfortable at a large, polished table. His, no doubt, the one he used for his work. You were content to curl up on a comfortable leather chair and watch as he brought over two steaming mugs of coffee. Yours he gave first, before making himself comfortable in the chair opposite your own. He studied you again, watching you while you sipped, how your hair had been slicked back and how your cheeks looked all flushed after your shower. His gaze intensified in a way that made your heart flutter, and then he focused on his drink and asked questions about the party, what you planned on doing now that you were done with university, if you had any jobs lined up, and was pleased when he heard you would be starting work in a few weeks time. He then turned the discussion to the matter of his son's plans.

"Legolas showed me the ring." He sighed and took a sip before putting his mug away. "It is quite exquisite, and perfect for Tauriel. I am told you had a hand in it?"

"I had to, when he showed me the rings he had in mind," you said, making a face when you remembered going over Legolas’s choices. "You’d think with a father like you, Legolas would have better taste."

You quickly went back to your coffee, trying to be as casual as possible. The chief purpose of your compliment was for Thranduil’s benefit, not just because you were talking about Legolas’s questionable taste in jewelry. Thranduil didn’t reply but looked at you keenly. You coughed and tried to come up with something else to say. The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Thranduil kept looking at you, thinking of what he should say to you, of what he should say about your comments. In the end, he decided to be direct. 

"Do you think I do not know what you are doing?" He took the mug out of your hands and placed it on the table. His fingers seemed to linger over yours, but you weren’t sure if you were imagining things or not. You coughed again and tried to brush off your comments.

"Do what?"

"Trying to get my attention. Do you think I have not caught on to what you are trying to do?"

"It’s nothing, Mr. Oropherion," you said with a nervous wave of the hand. "Just a silly little nothing, that’s all."

"And the Christmas gift?" Thranduil refused to let it go. "The handmade bracelet for me? Or that bottle of fine wine? One that should have been well beyond your means? How about all the times you would look at me with such deep yearning when your attention should have rightfully been elsewhere? Were those silly little nothings as well?"

Oh, dear. The bracelet could have been explained away, but the wine? You should have known you were overdoing it with the wine, and you now realize you had not been as subtle as you thought when it came to the way you looked at him.

"Does he know?" you asked finally, hoping and praying the ground would open and swallow you whole.

Thranduil rewarded you with a brief but arresting smile. "No. Legolas does not. And since you genuinely care for my son, I have kept my silence on the matter. But that still does not answer my question. Were you trying to get my attention? And no lies, I have neither the time nor the patience for them."

You dropped your head in utter embarrassment. Thranduil tutted gently and curled a finger under your chin, lifting it so your gaze was level with his. "Were you craving my attention, y/n?"

"Yes," you replied meekly.

"I see," Thranduil said slowly, hesitantly, as he ran his thumb across your lower lip. He groaned softly when your lips slowly parted. "Was this a simple liking, something innocent, or was this something more intimate in nature?"

Your cheeks were aflame. "More… intimate… Mr. Oropherion."

Thranduil’s eyes darkened. "You want me to bed you? Have my way with your body?"

"Yes," as bashful as you were, you still answered him. You very much wanted him to spend the night with you. "Maybe more than that."

His smile simply grew, and his eyes glinted wickedly in the light. Thranduil reflected on your answer and came to a decision. The time had come for him to be truthful as well. 

"What if I told you I desired you in return?" He grinned when your eyes widened in both shock and pleasure. "That I had longed for you for nearly a year?  What would you say to that?"

You were stunned and confused. Over the course of the previous year, Thranduil treated you like he always did, with barely any interest. Of course, he would be polite to you, asking about your classes and your exams, but there was nothing beyond that. In truth, it was Legolas who did most of the talking. You weren't sure if Thranduil even listened to you. Now he has freely confessed to wanting you. 

"But you barely spoke to me," you huffed, more than a little hurt that he would keep such a thing from you. "There were times you acted like I wasn't even there."

For this, Thranduil was remorseful. "And I apologize for being so cold with you. I do have very good reasons for concealing my true feelings, and I will talk about them someday soon, but for now I must ask if you would like me to bed you now and make you mine."

Thranduil said no more. He leaned back in his chair and gave you time to think.

He had good reasons, you mused. The age difference, no doubt; Legolas's possible reactions and the memories of his first wife's tragic passing. Thranduil took years to recover, Legolas had once said, and he refused all attempts at relationships, even ones that could only last a night.

Until now.

"Why now?" A wave of insecurity caught you unawares. The Oropherions had come from another country and were old money. Thranduil could have easily set his sights on someone like him, and he could still do it, pretending that there was no one else. After all, longing could mean many things. "And why me?"

"Is it not obvious?" he asked, after seeing doubt cloud your eyes.

"No," you flushed when he took your hands into his. Such large hands he had—hands that were so warm against yours. Thranduil raised yours to his lips, kissing them repeatedly.

"Your skin smells glorious, just like I thought it would be," Thranduil observed, his lips curling into a smile. "And soft. So soft. I cannot wait to feel your hands all over my body."

His gaze cut to yours. Your eyes were fixed on his, your pupils wide and your breathing quick. Doubt still clouded your eyes, and doubt was what he wanted to soothe.

"Are you worried I might set you aside for someone else?"

"Yes," you swallowed, but somehow you clung on to your courage. "You're an Oropherion and I'm... I'm... Me"

Thranduil grabbed your hands by the wrists and tugged on them, pulling you out of your chair and onto his. Your breath hitched when you found yourself on his lap, his arms hooking around your waist. 

"I cannot ask you to simply put complete faith in me, not when you still do not truly know me," Thranduil admitted. "All I can ask is for you to give me a chance. Just one. Will you do that for me? Give me a chance?"

You looked at him, at those startling eyes of his. You found no malice, no ill-intent, just a pair of sky-blue eyes that looked at you in a way no one else had done before. One chance, he had asked. You could risk giving him one chance.

"Alright," hands moving up your waist made your breath quicken again. "One chance."

Thranduil tightened his grip, heady anticipation coursing through his veins. "And can I make you mine now?"

"Yes," you were just as excited as he was. "But where though?"

Thranduil already had a place in mind, and set you down on your feet. When he rose, you had to really look up. Legolas may have been tall, but Thranduil was even taller.

"Come," he said, holding onto your hand. Thranduil led you out of the library and into the corridor. "I know just the place."

That place turned out to be his bedroom. It was like Legolas’s but on a much grander scale, with a large four-poster bed and warm accents everywhere. There was a wooden crest of some sort hung up on one wall, an intricately carved leaf surrounded by vines.

"My family’s crest," Thranduil stood behind you. "Tis an old one; the true meaning of it has been lost to time."

His hand had been moving up your arm, making your skin prickle and warm beneath his palm.

"You can change your mind at any time," he murmured and moved even closer, his other arm slowly circling around your waist. "I will stop the moment you ask me to."

You didn’t want him to stop. Not now, not after what he was making you feel, all warm and feverish and lustful.

"What if I don’t want you to stop?" you replied, your body slowly sagging into his. Thranduil groaned triumphantly and turned you around, his arms pulling you into a tight embrace.

His kiss was far from gentle, leaving you breathless and heady. You willingly yielded, your arms twinning around his broad shoulders when he dipped to carry you, a growl slipping past his lips when your legs wrapped around his waist. Thranduil carried you to across the room, his kisses demanding and unceasing. When he set you down by the foot of the bed, you tried to undress yourself.

"No," Thranduil was quick to stop you. "Let me do it instead."

Your hands moved to your sides while skilled, patient fingers worked on the belt of your robe and drew it away. His eyes darkened at the lace and skin that lay beneath.

"Beautiful," he whispered dreamily, before tugging your robe down your arms. When it pooled around your feet your cheeks warmed immediately. Thranduil stood still for a moment, drinking in the vision that stood in front of him, before gathering you into his arms and kissing you again. You found yourself being carried into bed, its bedspread cool beneath your skin. A blissful sigh parted your lips when his tongue dipped into your mouth. You felt caged beneath him, his body heavy against yours in all manner of wonderful ways. When he pressed himself even closer, your nails nearly ripped into his shirt, leaving gouges in his back. It hurt, but Thranduil thought no pain felt even a fraction as good.

"You are going to be the death of me," he breathed and pulled away, so he could undress himself. Your blush rose immediately when the last of his clothes joined the little pile by the side of the bed and he towered before you like a magnificent sculpture come to life. You didn’t have time to even think as his lips sought yours again. He had to prop himself on one elbow, to avoid crushing you, but his kiss, oh, how sinful was his kiss, hungry and needy, and his touch, heated and possessive, as it moved all over your body. His hair felt thick to your touch, his skin petal-soft against your own. When he ground into you, more than a little hesitant, you threw caution to the wind.

"You don’t have to be gentle with me," you encouraged. When Thranduil stopped, studying you keenly, you cupped his face with your hands. You wanted him to do it, to take control and have his way with you completely. "I mean it, Mr. Oropherion, you don’t have…"

"Sir," Thranduil insisted, having brought down his own inhibitions. He wanted to hold back, to be gentle, to not fall on you like a beast, but if what you asked for was true…

"Not Mr. Oropherion," Thranduil's need to take control slowly overcame him. "Not while we are here, within the confines of this bedroom."

Your entire body flushed heatedly by his tone alone. "Yes," you gazed at him, blood roaring in yours ears. "Sir."

"Come," Thranduil settled onto his knees and held out a hand. When he pulled you onto his lap, you felt his cock—already hard—rubbing against your slick heat. Pinpricks of desire slowly grew as he kept rubbing himself against you, making you mewl and whimper into his shoulder.

"Are you sure about this, princess?" Thranduil growled, his voice deep and husky by now. "You do not want me to be gentle?"

What was it with the way he suddenly called you princess? Why did it make your pulse scramble so? "Yes," you readied yourself, eager for all the things he could possibly do to you. "Sir."  

His lips crushed yours, his arms tightening around your waist like a vice. His teeth grazed over your lips, his tongue pushing past them and flicking against yours when it slipped into the warmth of your mouth. You couldn’t help but purr helplessly, your fingers raking through his hair. Thranduil forgot all sense of gentleness and decency as need lashed at him like a whip.

"So shameless, princess," he cooed, his hand making its way around your waist and onto your thigh. "The way you would look at me. Thinking I would not notice? Pitiful."

"I’m sorry, sir," you sighed when that hand of his snuck under the hem of your nightgown and glided up. "I’m so sorry."

"You should be," he muttered, "You should be very sorry."

Slap.

You jolted when he smacked your thigh. The pain that came was sharp, but the pleasure that followed afterwards…

"More," you begged, "Please."

"Sir," he reminded, before reddening your thigh again. "You forget yourself, princess."

"Sir," you mumbled quickly, "More sir, please."

Thranduil dipped and nipped your throat and your shoulder, taking care not to bruise such exposed parts.

"So needy already," he spanked your thigh a third time, moaning when you tugged his hair. "And I have just gotten started."

He kissed you again; his kisses aggressive and hot. He tugged at the hem of your nightgown, ordering you to lift your arms. The lace and silk confection went up your arms and over your waist before being tossed to the pile of clothes by the side. Thranduil pulled away to look at you, at your bruised lips, your skin gleaming in the lamplight, your disheveled hair, and your eyes, heavy-lidded, dark.

"Look at you," Thranduil grinned wolfishly as he took you in. "Already a mess."

"I am, sir," you snuggled even closer and threw your arms around his shoulders.

Instead of kissing you Thranduil pushed you onto your back, his greedy mouth exploring as much of your body as possible. You could only grip into the sheet when his teeth left darkening patches to bloom in their wake, your back arching every time he nipped at your skin. Your mewls turned into heady moans and Thranduil couldn’t get enough it.

"I often wondered how sweet you would sound when we fucked," he moaned and turned his attention to the soft swell of your breasts, dipping his head to taste. "How sweet you would taste."

"As much as I wondered how good you’d taste," you babbled without even realizing it. Thranduil chuckled before turning his attention back to what he was doing. He licked and laved, leaving your nipples throbbing by the time he had finished.

"Needy little slut, yes?" Thranduil pinned your hands over your head and forced your thighs apart with his. "But do not worry; you will get to taste me later. Lift those beautiful hips of yours for now."

You had just hooked your legs over his hips when he entered you, his cock plunging into your cunt in one quick stroke. He was so big, and it hurt, but the sensations that came with him sinking his length into you—the feel of your walls clenching around his cock—were too good, and the pain was forgotten quickly enough. Then he started to move.

Helpless and pinned beneath him, you found yourself being pushed higher up the bed every time he pulled his hips back and pushed back in, his moans matching yours. Thranduil forced himself to hold on, to wait till you had climaxed, but it had been so long, so very long, and you felt gloriously warm, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

"Come for me, princess," he commanded, "Come for me now."

A wave of intense pleasure rose within you, threatening to drag you under. You let it drag you under, your body splintering as your orgasm ripped through you. Your senses dulled as the world around you seemed to stop spinning. So lost in your blissed-out state that you barely felt Thranduil pull out of you and spill his seed over your belly, his moan that of a deeply satisfied man.

Clarity came slowly. The sweet, restful scent of lavender oil mingled with each breath you took. You blinked your eyes and looked up. Thranduil still hovered over you, his arms trembling, and sweat gleaming on his brow. Slowly, he let go, his kisses going from raw fury to tender pecks. He massaged your wrists, helped you get cleaned up and insisted that you sleep in his bed, reassuring you that Legolas would have no issue with you being with him. Once he was sure you were settled, he quickly threw on a pair of sweatpants and went out to fetch you a glass of water. Legolas had also walked into the kitchen at the same time, and the two shared a knowing look.

"It’s happening?" Legolas asked, and made his way over to his father. "Are you and y/n together now?"

Thranduil filled out a glass of water for him and watched while his son took an aspirin for the headache that was already building in intensity. Legolas knew of his father's plan. He had seen both his friend and father pining for each other and it was he who encouraged his father to take the first step in the first place.

"Yes," Thranduil filled another glass for you and studied his son. "I will date her properly and do my best not to make a mess of things. Y/n deserves better than that."

"Good," Legolas would have grinned, had it not felt like a rat was trying to gnaw its way out of his head. "Y/n will be good for you. Besides, you’ve been a lonely, miserable bastard for too long, dad."

Thranduil blushed but smiled all the same. "One does not expect to hear such language from their own child, but thank you."

tags: @ryantryan6969 @asianbutnotjapanese @lemonivall @the-fandoms-georgie @nupppuff

[saphirered]

I saw your autumn/winter prompts

It’d be cool for you to do some fluff with Ashton for either cold nights or thunder and lightning

Love your stuff!!!

More prompt requests incoming! 😘

Miserable. This weather feels absolutely miserable. Ashton is uses to the rain and thunder but now it’s fucking cold. Freezing, frigid cold and fuck does it hurt. They can feel it in their bones, their entire body just hurts, more so than usual. The jungle is fine, perfect even. It’s like home. But they’re far from home. The heart in the jungle, lies far beyond sight and perhaps even mind. This fey bullshit is something else entirely and Ashton doesn’t quite like it. The weather seems to hate them especially. If there’s some asshole watching over them making this all happen, he’ll personally see to it that there’s a nice and comfy spot in the earth about six feet under. Fuck. 

All of those emotions disappear though. A burst of light illuminates the skies and with it your face. You look up at the sky and admire the tendrils flash before the disappear as quickly as they came. You’re a beautiful sight- It is a beautiful sight. Fuck. You’re beautiful. They’re in deep. Once upon a time Ashton thought this was fun while it lasted. A little teasing and flirting never hurt anybody but the line had blurred a long time ago. Ashton caught feelings and it’s very few times they’re unsure about anything. Your lips move but your voice is drowned out by the sound of crashing thunder. 

“Hah?!” Ashton leans in closer to hear as the ground shakes once more. 

“I said we should find some shelter!” You all but shout pointing at the sky and take their hand. So much for venturing off on your own and having a little voyage ‘back in an hour’. You hope the others have the mind to find shelter too. You send them a message just in case as you pull the genasi along through the trees and rocks until you stumble upon a cave. You’re not taking any risks and the lightning is getting closer. From here you’d be safe with cover, and still able to witness nature in all it’s grandeur. 

Letting himself be dragged along Ashton isn’t opposed to the shelter you’ve found because with his track record he wouldn’t put it behind any mischievous fey to set the gold in those cracks to attract the lightning. On the other side they too are a little curious to see what would happen… Maybe another time. Ashton curls and uncurls their fingers, rotates their wrists when you let go and take a look out at the oncoming clouds hiding the moonlight, or dusk-light should be more appropriate. You stay at the mouth of the cave to watch another rumble hit the earth in a cacophony and the lightning, quick as it passes makes this cave all the darker. Ashton can’t see shit and in an attempt to find a wall loses their footing. A crack, that’s luckily hidden by thunder saves most of the hit to his pride. But then fire glow appears in the palm of your hand. 

“Why are you on the ground?” You hide a chuckle as you watch Ashton give up on, life, existence, everything laying on their back, legs bent at the knees and groan. 

“I just wanted to be one with my element.” They speak as casually as they can but your brow furrows and you take a tentative step closer, and another and another. You kneel down and help Ashton sit up. Groans are not just a casual annoyance at this place, but something of discomfort. You caught on. Shit. 

“I can give you two a moment if you’d prefer but I don’t think that’ll do you much good.” 

“There’s room for one more. Plenty of the earth to go around.” Ashton jokes. 

“I was hoping there’d be plenty of you but I can settle for the rocks beneath my feet.” You jest and Ashton scoffs though the attitude is quick to slip when your arm hand touches their back. Even through their jacket, the warmth offers such a relief. “You doing okay?” Again your brow furrows. 

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” And so the comfort disappears. You pull back and just sit on your knees, hands gathered in your lap. Disapproval crosses your features. 

“Sure.” You deadpan and grab onto Ashton’s wrist, uncurling the fingers gently and clasping his hand between yours. You bring it to your lips and blow warm air. It doesn’t take much to see the instant relief cross their features. 

“Okay maybe I’m not entirely okay.” The look you give them is much akin to ‘ya think?’ and it hurts to admit to the way it makes Ashton feel inside. Then your features soften. You look out towards, the oncoming storm, to the lightning reaching out, and the wind rustling through the trees picking up. 

“Sit with me.” You simply say. It’s not quite a question as much as it is an order and Ashton does feel like they have a choice. It’s just a very tempting one despite their disdain for authority and following orders. You shift from your knees until you’re comfortable, looking out over the horizon. Everything seems so much easier when he looks at you. Everything is. You make it so because any doubt falls away. Ashton knows they’re on the right path because you’re there and as long as you walk it with them they’ll keep walking with you. 

Ashton shifts and sits next to you. He bumps your shoulder with his. You chuckle and bump back, though much likes the rock around, they don’t budge. The cold pain creeps up again and almost as if you know exactly what to do, you wrap an arm around their back, slipping your fingers under the jacket and lean your head on their shoulder. Just your sheer presence, and a little magic manages to numb the pain and that’s more than Ashton can say the majority of people they’ve had in their life have ever been able to do. 

“You’re so fucking confusing.” Ashton speaks before they think.

“Wow, so much affection.” You scoff but pull closer. 

“You are.” Ashton doubles down. “You’re a fucking disaster waiting to happen.” 

“But I’m your disaster.” You poke a finger at his chest. 

“Are you?” Again, speaking before thinking but that seems to be the right track. You take a deep sigh and Ashton’s heart stops, their breath stops. Time stops. There’s not but anticipation, both joy and dread loom overhead and they’re just stupid fucking feelings because end of the day you’re just you and you’re fucking amazing. That’s what you are. You’re fucking amazing. 

“I don’t know. Am I?” The both of you look at another lightning bolt striking close by. Ashton gives it a moment, letting the trembles of the earth fade and the light too, not but the dim orb behind the two of you offering the littlest of light. 

“Maybe you are. If you think you can handle it.” He looks down nudging your head from his shoulder. 

“First off, rude-“

“You’re the one using my shoulder as pillow, find a rock or something.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Will you now?”

“Yeah. A nice and comfy one.” You’re unreadable. That’s dangerous. Next Ashton knows you’re on your knees at their side, back facing the exit of the cave, your warmth has disappeared from their back but settles on their shoulders. It takes everything to not lean into the touch. Not that they have to because you lean closer. 

“This one seems plenty comfortable.” You close the gap, press your lips to Ashton’s. While you’ve shared your flirty kisses before they were just that. This kiss is different. This kiss is a lifetime unfolding however long it might last. This moment is as bright and beautiful as the flashes beyond the cover. You’re like a warm fire in the cold dead night and are simply a relief. You’re a certainty in their life when they have known so little. This might not be eternity but this is certain. You’re certain because you’re just fucking you and that’s all you’d ever need to be. Cover from a thunderstorm isn’t so bad out here. 

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Eddie's POV

Eddie watched, his heart seemingly stopping for a moment, as Steve was yanked underneath the water by some unseen force. He didn't even hesitate. He pushed past the girls and dove straight into the water. His frantic thoughts were of Steve, the other half of his heart, and Chrissy, the second half waiting for them back at the house. How would he be able to explain it to her? How could he tell her that he lost Steve? He couldn't do it. They couldn't lose Steve, not now. It's only been a handful of days, but he feels it deep in his gut that they had a future together. Chrissy was it for him, and so was Steve. He knew the minute they both stepped foot into the woods. He had felt the change in the air. He wished he could go back, and they could stay at that picnic table, frozen in time forever.

Eddie broke through the gate and saw the emptiness that was the Upside Down's Lover's Lake. Red lightning flashed overhead. He didn't have time to be overwhelmed by the fact that he was in another dimension. He picked up an oar and ran over to where bat like creatures had dragged Steve. He started screaming and swinging at the creatures chowing down on his boyfriend. Robin and Nancy soon joined him in the fight. They beat at the bats that were attacking Steve, but others soon started attacking them as well. Finally, Steve freed himself. He beat the bat on the ground, swinging it by its tail, and stepped on it with his bare feet. He ripped it in half, blood dripping from his mouth.

"JESUS H CHRIST!" Eddie shrieked.

"We need to get back to the gate!" Nancy yelled.

Just as she said that, more bats flew in front of the gate and surrounded it. Of all the rotten luck.

"There's more coming!" Robin yelled.

Sure enough, when Eddie glanced up at the sky, there was more coming towards them above the trees. Suddenly, Steve stumbled, and Eddie caught him around the waist, quick to press a hand to his bleeding stomach.

"Oh, baby!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Skull Rock isn't far," Nancy said as she helped Eddie with Steve.

They hurried off toward Skull Rock, setting Steve on a rock underneath the odd looking stone formation. Eddie helped Nancy bandage Steve while Robin hovered over them frantically, muttering about rabies. Once the makeshift bandage was secure, Eddie helped Steve up and wrapped an arm around him. He kissed him deeply, caressing his cheek.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," Steve whispered as Eddie leaned his forehead against his.

Eddie both wished Chrissy was here and was relieved that she wasn't. He needed to wrap his arms around both of them. Eddie sighed and pulled back. He shook off his vest and helped Steve slip it on.

"So your tits don't get cold," Eddie said, and Steve laughed.

"Thanks," he said.

"You know a metalhead's battle vest is important. You put a lot of time and effort into it . . . Sometimes blood if the stitching goes wrong. It means a lot that I'm letting you wear this. You're important to me, you and Chrissy both. I just want you to know that I plan on putting a lot of time and effort into being with both of you. I just wanted you to know that," Eddie said blushing.

"You're important to me too," Steve said softly. "The both of you."

"You better not die," Eddie said.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Steve said.

Eddie crushed his lips to Steve’s, pouring every single emotion he had into the kiss. When they broke the kiss, the ground shook. Eddie fell to the ground, clutching Steve tightly in his arms.

"If Dustin's theory is right, then there should be a gate where Fred died," Nancy said. "But we need weapons. If this place is exactly like Hawkins, then my guns should be at my house. We need to stop there and get them."

"Just one minute," Eddie said softly as he held Steve close to him. "Okay."

He helped Steve up, lacing their fingers together.

"Let's go," Steve said.

"So, this is the Upside Down Hawkins, huh?" Eddie asked as they started walking.

"Yeah, careful of the vines. It's like a hive mind. You touch the vines, you wake up Vecna," Steve explained.

"Shit," Eddie cursed as he carefully avoided the vines.

Robin was walking on the other side of Steve, clinging to him as Nancy led the way to her house.

"So, we never really got the chance to talk about your new beaus," Robin said teasingly.

"Kind of been busy," Steve said.

"Just a bit," Robin said. "So?"

"It's okay, you can talk about me in front of me," Eddie said.

"Okay, so, Eddie is totally hot, but God, can he talk," Steve rolled his eyes.

"Hey! Good things, Stevie. All good things," Eddie replied and Robin laughed.

"No, but seriously. They're great. They make me laugh, and when I'm with them, they make me feel. . .happy. They're like pieces of a puzzle I didn't know I was missing," Steve said.

Eddie blushed and slipped an arm around his waist, kissing his cheek. He felt very much the same.

"Aww," Robin said. "I'm glad."

"What about you? Tell me all about Vickie," Steve said.

"Oh my God, she's so amazing. She's funny and sweet. She cares so much about people, and she wants to be a writer. Did I tell you that? She loves telling stories, not so much outlook because sometimes she can be quite shy, which I find adorable," Robin said.

"Yeah, Chrissy likes to draw. She said she always talked about writing a book with Vickie," Steve replied with a smile.

"That's right! We're dating cousins!" Robin laughed.

Eddie was listening to them talk, grinning as he did so. The grin slipped off his face when he realized something. He gripped Steve’s waist.

"Shit! Steve, we left your Walkman on the boat," Eddie said.

"Fuck!" Robin exclaimed. "What are we going to do?!"

Eddie was about to go into full panic mode when he made another realization. He was a singer and guitarist in a band. Eddie grinned madly and started to sing, 'Keep Yourself Alive' by Queen. Robin and Steve stared at him for a moment before Eddie nudged them to keep on walking. Steve was smiling fondly at him. Eddie wasn't surprised when Robin soon joined in, but he was surprised at how well she could sing. It was almost like they were Steve’s headphones. They eventually made it to Nancy's in one piece. Eddie noted that it would have been a nice-looking house had it not been covered in creepy ass vines.

"Jeeze, Nance, it looks like you need to do a bit of tidying up," Robin said when they stepped through the door.

"Ever heard of spring cleaning, Wheeler?" Eddie snickered.

"Just a little bit of dusting here and there," Robin laughed with him.

"You guys are very funny," Nancy said. "Focus."

When Nancy turned her head a little, there was a small smile on her face. Eddie grinned. Score, Nancy Wheeler thinks they're funny. They made their way up to Nancy's bedroom, only to discover that her guns were gone, and the reason for that was because the Upside Down was stuck on the day that Will Byers went missing.

"Zombie boy?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't really like that name," Nancy said.

"No, I know. I met him once," Eddie said. "Seems like a great kid. His mom cut his hair?"

"Oh, yeah," Steve replied with a snort. "He doesn't have the heart to tell her that he doesn't like it."

"I guess the same goes for his brother too," Eddie said, grinning at Nancy.

"It's not. . .it's not that bad," she said, struggling not to laugh.

"Lies," Robin grinned.

"We're just going to have to walk to the high school without weapons," Nancy frowned.

"You still have bikes in 1983, right?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Nancy said.

So, here they were riding bikes to the high school. Eddie, of course, got stuck with the smallest bike. Go figure. It wasn't all bad, though. He got to stare at Steve's perky ass while they rode off into the. . .darkness? Eddie was breathing heavily by the time they arrived at the vine covered parking lot. He really should give up smoking. They approached the spot where Fred died, and Dustin had been right. There was a red oozing gate stretched out on the parking lot like an open wound.

"This is where Fred died," Nancy sobbed.

Steve wrapped his arms around and pulled her in tight. Eddie wasn't jealous at all. He was glad that Steve was there for her.

"My friends. . .they just keep dying, and I . . . ," Nancy sobbed. "I can't lose anymore."

Eddie stepped up on her other side and put his arm around her.

"Hey, you're not going to lose any of us. We're your friends, too, I hope. It's definitely not going to take a lot more than what this asshole's got to keep me out of Nancy Wheeler's life," Eddie grinned. "And I'm not just saying this so you can do a spread on the Hellfire Club."

"I'm definitely doing one after this," Nancy said, laughing, and then her face hardened. "All of you. . .you're my friends, and I'm not going to lose any more. Fuck this guy."

All of a sudden, a large stick came bursting through the gate, and they all screamed. Once it was done, they slowly crept over to the gate and looked down into it. Chrissy's relieved face was looking up at them as well as Vickie's and Wayne's. Jeff, Frank, and Gareth's face popped over their shoulders, looking relieved themselves. Whatever reason, the boys' faces looked beaten to hell and Eddie frowned.

"Steve, baby, what the hell happened to you?" Chrissy frowned.

"I can answer that later. Can we get out of here?" Steve asked.

All they had to do was lay on the ground and climb through the gate. It was disgusting, but they did it. Robin went through first and was immediately pulled into Vickie's arms. As soon as Eddie and Steve came through, they had a small strawberry blond cheerleader sobbing in their own arms. Eddie sighed and held onto them both tightly.

"I'm never letting either of you guys go ever again," Eddie said.

"Okay," Steve and Chrissy said.

Suddenly, Chrissy's arms dropped to her sides.

"Chrissy?"

Chrissy was still, her eyes a weird shade of blue as she stared off into the distant.

"Chrissy?!"

Chapter Fifteen

[jackoshadows]

There's this nice little parallel between Arya and Jon doing the right thing under incredibly dangerous and complicated scenarios and then being saved by the direwolves.

When Jon Snow is asked to kill the old man at the Queenscrown, he knows that his life would be forfeit if he refuses. And yet, he can't bring himself to do it.

“Why do you hesitate?” Styr said. “Kill him, and be done.” He is an old man, Jon told himself. Fifty, maybe even sixty. He lived a longer life than most. The Thenns will kill him anyway, nothing I can say or do will save him. Longclaw seemed heavier than lead in his hand, too heavy to lift. The man kept staring at him, with eyes as big and black as wells. I will fall into those eyes and drown. The Magnar was looking at him too, and he could almost taste the mistrust. The man is dead. What matter if it is my hand that slays him? One cut would do it, quick and clean. Longclaw was forged of Valyrian steel. Like Ice. Jon remembered another killing; the deserter on his knees, his head rolling, the brightness of blood on snow . . . his father’s sword, his father’s words, his father’s face . . . “Do it, Jon Snow,” Ygritte urged. “You must. T’ prove you are no crow, but one o’ the free folk.” He turned his back on the man. “No.” - Jon, AGoT

And then we have little 9 year old, skinny little Arya confronting Joffrey's sadistic torture of Mycah. Joffrey is taller and bigger than even Jon and Robb and he's armed with a sword. Arya is armed with a stick. Joffrey has been trained in the sword and Arya has not. The odds are against her. And yet she steps up to defend Mycah because it's the right thing to do.

“And you’re only a butcher’s boy, and no knight.” Joffrey lifted Lion’s Tooth and laid its point on Mycah’s cheek below the eye, as the butcher’s boy stood trembling. “That was my lady’s sister you were hitting, do you know that?” A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah’s flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy’s cheek. “Stop it!” Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. “I won’t hurt him … much,” Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher’s boy. Arya went for him. - Sansa, AGoT

And when both Arya and Jon are under attack because of doing the right thing, the direwolves - gifts from the Old Gods - step in to help save them.

The Magnar said something in the Old Tongue. He might have been telling the Thenns to kill Jon where he stood, but he would never know the truth of that. Lightning crashed down from the sky, a searing blue-white bolt that touched the top of the tower in the lake. They could smell the fury of it, and when the thunder came it seemed to shake the night. And death leapt down amongst them. The lightning flash left Jon night-blind, but he glimpsed the hurtling shadow half a heartbeat before he heard the shriek. - Jon, ASoS

Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Then a grey blur flashed past her, and suddenly Nymeria was there, leaping, jaws closing around Joffrey’s sword arm. The steel fell from his fingers as the wolf knocked him off his feet, and they rolled in the grass, the wolf snarling and ripping at him, the prince shrieking in pain. - Sansa, AGot

What also stands out is 9 year old Arya's presence of mind. She steps in to call Nymeria off else the damage done to Joffrey would be far worse. Just look at what Summer does to the Thenns.

The lightning flash left Jon night-blind, but he glimpsed the hurtling shadow half a heartbeat before he heard the shriek. The first Thenn died as the old man had, blood gushing from his torn throat. Then the light was gone and the shape was spinning away, snarling, and another man went down in the dark. There were curses, shouts, howls of pain. Jon saw Big Boil stumble backward and knock down three men behind him. Ghost, he thought for one mad instant. Ghost leapt the Wall. Then the lightning turned the night to day, and he saw the wolf standing on Del’s chest, blood running black from his jaws. Grey. He’s grey. - Jon, ASoS

“Get it off,” he screamed. “Get it off!” Arya’s voice cracked like a whip. “Nymeria!” The direwolf let go of Joffrey and moved to Arya’s side. The prince lay in the grass, whimpering, cradling his mangled arm. His shirt was soaked in blood. Arya said, “She didn’t hurt you … much.” - Sansa, AGoT

As Arya points out rather accurately, Nymeria did not hurt Joffrey...much, considering what a direwolf is capable of. Nymeria steps in to save Arya and that's it. Arya could have done more damage to Joffrey if she wanted to - but she recognizes and understands the situation and calls Nymeria off.

Anyways I thought this was a cool, thematic parallel of not only Arya and Jon having the instinct to do the right thing, no matter the circumstances, but also of the direwolves - in this case Nymeria and Summer - helping them overcome the danger of those circumstances.

[occasionallyprosie]

"The Stand Of A Survivor"

Chapter 1: "Explosions"

Yet another failed ambush had the Chain fighting a horde of monsters, though dangerous, they were all perfectly skilled at surviving. However, some were better at surviving than others, and others were used to losing all those they loved.

Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 23: Presumed Dead

Next>>

Event Masterlist

Read On AO3 Warnings: None that I know of

It was a rather disappointingly executed ambush, but a valiant effort if he had to be honest.

Between Hyrule's constant awareness, Wild's eyes catching the slightest movement, and Legend's own rabbit hearing... ambushes just didn't work on them. And even when they weren’t being attentive, chances were Twilight’s enhanced hearing, Time’s awareness, and Warriors’ quick reactions, would make up that slack.

However large attacks very well could and would work on them. It's just that they could see them coming, not that they'd exactly be fine.

"Scholar! I got twelve already!"

"That's it? I'm on seventeen!"

Warriors groaned and promptly cut down the monster in front of him. Legend grinned, dashing forward and twisting behind his nearest target to slice out their spinal cord from the back of their neck.

It was just a game, sure a horde of monsters was something to fear, but when most of them had handled such a battle on their own in the past, or a similar one with far more enemies, it became a bit more difficult to treat it wholly serious.

Legend was well aware of the dangers and how easily things could flip, but he was not going to treat it like it would be his last fight. He didn't need his full efforts so he refused to employ them, that was a waste of energy. Why go twenty when five would suffice?

He knew better than to grow complacent, so he didn't dare.

That didn't stop things from going extremely wrong. As Legend cut down the one black blood he managed to encounter, he felt a familiar tug and heard someone call out that a portal had formed. Someone else yelled to get through it, that more monsters were coming.

He saw it from the corner of his eye, Sky half carrying an injured Wild through, Time defending them. Warriors and Wind working their way toward the portal as well, his own vision of the portal blocked as more monsters closed in.

Of course he was furthest away. Fine, he could get there--

A flash of light and his magic shields shattering preluded the spell hitting his side. The blinding pain that made everything go white, and his senses just shut off.

Time was trying to get to the portal when he saw a flash of light, magic, and then saw some crackling crimson spell hit their veteran.

Legend went flying with far more speed and force than Time had really seen, slamming into the ground far too loudly and powerfully to be unharmed.

"NO!" Hyrule screamed. Time whipped as the air filled with ozone and a vicious strike of lightning tore down a whole squadron of monsters, yet despite that, more was already flooding. It felt futile all of a sudden, like pushing aside sand at the base of a dune.

An explosion ripped through where Legend had flown, a follow-up attack most likely.

The portal's pull grew stronger and Time couldn't even step toward their injured scholar. Hyrule's feet dug trenches into the ground, viciously tearing down monsters as he tried to get to the veteran but he was losing ground due to the pull alone. Time couldn't say he fared any better, even Twilight couldn't tear his way through the monsters as the pull grew stronger.

Time couldn't even see the hero anymore, not between all the monsters but he could see some going in the direction Legend had been thrown, unmoving when he'd last seen him before that explosion went off.

The portal's pull dragged them through.

Staggering out the other side, Time whirled and hoped it pulled Legend through as well, but he only saw Hyrule collapsing and Twilight stumbling. Everyone else had been waiting--and the portal slammed shut.

The portals had never left one of them behind, even if they didn't cross in time. They'd be forced through one way or another, a second portal forming beneath them, the original going to them or bringing them to it, the only reason Time could conclude why Legend hadn't come through...

"Link," Sky grabbed his arm, eyes uncharacteristically blazing. "Where is the veteran?"

Time swallowed thickly. "He got hit by some kind of spell. I didn't see him get back up... and apparently the portal didn't bring him through."

"Say what you’re thinking," their knight demanded. "What happened to him?"

"Don’t you dare say it--"

"He's dead."

Hyrule snarled viciously. "Don’t you say that! He can't--He can't..."

All that anger rapidly transformed to grief and the traveler collapsed to the ground. Time looked away and closed his eyes, trying not to see the pain that he could hear.

"Please," their traveler begged. "He can't be dead. He's the Legendary Hero, he can't..."

Time looked at Twilight, who seemed absolutely destroyed.

He couldn't blame them, he felt ruined. Their veteran was young, maybe not a kid, and he implied he had been a teen during his quests so he hadn't been doing this his whole life, but he was still a child and...

He was dead. Time had heard them laughing and treating the battle as a game, even their ever responsible captain, and the monsters had been weak so he didn't fault them because none of their guard's went down and when the few of them encountered a black blooded monster, they weren't caught off guard. He had seen Wild notice the monster was stronger than anticipated and didn't lose an ounce of the playfulness in his moves, but still eliminated the monster with all the careful seriousness they usually had--even if he had been injured in the process. Four and Legend had done the same, Time had seen it. They weren't being irresponsible, just playful.

Then Legend was hit by a little flash of magic and even if he had survived that blast, Time was certain he hadn't recovered quick enough, especially not quick enough for the number of monsters there. Then there was the explosion that just had to be caused by the same thing that hit Legend with a spell, a wizzrobe or wizzro or otherwise.

He couldn't have survived.

A loud ringing muted all other noise, a flash of white overtaking any visuals, blinding pain overtaking every nerve and eliminating any other sensation of touch--

He floated, for a moment, the complete overwhelming of his senses had him forgetting everything: who he was, where he was, what had been happening.

And just as quickly, as soon as the ground came up to hit him, it all came rushing back.

He hit the ground, rolled, and couldn't react for far too long.

Monsters flocked to him, his muscles didn't work well enough for him to stand, but he could call on the magic settled atop his chest.

Expending a large portion of his magic, the Bombos Medallion went off and exploded everything around him.

Next>>

[pocketfullofpearlies]

RISE OF RED: A TALE OF HEADS AND HEARTS

(Descendants: Rise of Red FanFiction/Re-imagining)

Chapter 5

Red watched in horror as the cards floated up to the sky, which suddenly became a dark, tumultous grey colour, complete with flashes of lightning and roars of thunder.

The cards increased with size and then fizzled out, falling to the ground, where they became life-sized, eight foot tall soldiers in Wonderlandian uniforms.

The Queen cackled as the soldiers drew the swords and surrounded the Courtyard.

Uma and her pirates jumped into action drawing their own weapons and attacking the soldiers.

“Quick! Get out of here!” Uma shouted at the crowd.

Parents grabbed their kids and attempted to make a run for it.

“Oh no you don’t,” the Queen snarled, fishing another deck of cards from her purse and throwing them at the exits.

These cards became full sized metal gates, effectively blocking all escape routes.

The soldiers were too strong for the pirates and quickly overpowered them, holding them all down at sword-point.

“BIBBIDI BOBBIDI-!” Fairy Godmother began chanting waving her wand at the Queen.

“-Absolutely not!” The Queen threw a card at the wand, breaking of the top part and smashing it into pieces.

Fairy Godmother gasped, clutching her broken wand in disbelief as the Queen climbed up the stage, headed to a makeshift throne two soldiers were setting up for her.

“Seriously, Faye? It’s been almost twenty years and you still don’t know how to use that thing? One would really think that all those years training with Nanny and the other fairies, including Maleficent herself even before you came to Merlin Academy would have made you the most powerful one of all, but look at you. All you're good for is granting stupid wishes and helping dumb girls get with princes.”

“Iracebeth, I-“

The humour on the Queen’s face melted into furious anger. “Don’t you DARE call me by that name! You entitled rat! You saw what happened to me and didn’t do a thing to help me. You knew everything! I can bet on my whole kingdom that you knew I would be here today, but you outrightly ignored my daughter and me, even though we’re seated here like everyone else.” She paused, her eyes clouding over briefly with emotion. “And I know you’re aware of who her father is.”

Fairy Godmother’s face went deathly pale and she swayed on her feet. “S-she’s Thorne’s daughter?”

Red frowned, her head whipping so fast her neck hurt as she turned to look at Fairy Godmother in shock and confusion.

The Queen of Hearts, however, simply scoffed and motioned to her soldiers.

“Take this one away before I tear her head off myself.”

Gasps and shouts sprung up amongst the crowd.

“Bridget,stop this!” Queen Cinderella said, dodging the soldiers positioned in front of the row where she sat with Chloe.

“Mum!” Chloe called out, her heart going to her throat as she watched her mother approach the Queen of Hearts.

The soldiers in front of the stage held out their weapons, blocking Queen Cinderella but the Queen of Hearts took one look at her and ordered them, “Let her through.”

“Bridget, this is insanity! You have to stop.”

The Queen of Hearts laughed. “Thank you for the compliment, Ella. As a queen, you are aware that ‘insane’ is a good thing to Wonderlandians, right?”

“I-“

“-Not to worry. Once your sorry excuse of a ruler hands over this pathetic kingdom to me I’ll personally ensure you take Wonderlandian Grammar classes.”

“This is not a game, Bridget! It’s not funny!”

The Queen of Hearts scoffed, rolling her eyes. “To you maybe. But to me, a coup is something I find very amusing. Watching all of you squirm and shake like rats on a hot day. It fills my soul with joy you cannot begin to fathom.”

“You’re right about that; I will not ever fathom why cruelty would give you joy, Bridget. What happened to the sweet girl who just wanted to be friends with everyone?”

“She’s dead,” the Queen of hearts answered curtly. “She died that night, Ella. Because that was their plan; to kill me. And they succeeded.”

“I don’t understand.” Queen Cinderella’s tone was both shocked and confused.

“How could you? You weren’t there. You never really cared for me or anyone else. You were just waiting for Christopher to acknowledge your existence like every other wannabe princess in the school.”

Chloe watched all this with growing agitation. She glanced at Red, who was rooted at the spot, taken aback by the whole situation.

“Redwina, darling. Come up here,” the Queen said, gesturing with her hand.

Red climbed up the stage, feeling her heart beat heavily in her ears.

Once she was in front of her mother, she was asked to turn to face the crowd and she did so, shame and anxiety curdling in her system as she looked at the scared faces of the people.

For a fifth of a second, she caught sight of Amir and she immediately wished she hadn’t. He was holding on to his mum, who was trembling and his dad was sporting a bruise of his forehead from a tussle with the guards.

“So this was why you wanted me to come here so bad.”

“But of course. You finally proved to be useful to me and I had to seize the opportunity. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“I should have known this was never about me.”

“Oh,would you stop that. Everything I do is for you. You’re just too dim to realize it.”

“Bridget, please,” Queen Cinderella begged again. “Please don’t do this.”

Red was about to second this when her mother spoke up again.

“From the looks of it, your daughter seems ready to lunge right at me,” she said with a light chuckle.

Chloe looked away from the queen, trying her best to stay calm.

“So I’m going to make you a deal, Ella. For old times’ sake. I’ll let you and your girl go back to your kingdom safe and sound. All you have to do is kneel before me.”

There was a general gasp and Queen Cinderella’s expression became sullen. Bridget knew just how her step-sisters had treated her back then. They made her drop to her knees in front of them at random times on campus, in front of everyone. One time they made her crawl through this same courtyard on her hands and knees, leaving the skin on them bloodied and raw, and then dumped food and waste on her like she was some animal. And now she was throwing the punishment back in her face.

She was right; the girl she had once taken as her best friend was really dead.

“I will never kneel to a tyrant,” Queen Cinderella said, her voice coming out croaky as she choked down the emotions welling in her.

The Queen of Hearts smirked dangerously, reaching out for Red and dragging her in by the shoulder.

“Tell me Red, what’s it called when someone goes against Mummy’s orders?”

“Mum, you can’t do this.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Red.”

Red’s shoulder bloomed with pain as her mother dug her needle sharp nails into the skin.

“You have to stop this, Mum.”

“Listen to your daughter, Bridget. Can’t you see she’s not like you? She can’t do it!”

The words made something in Red click. Usually she hated being compared to her mother, and sought to prove that they were different from each other, but it sounded to her like she was being weak over a bunch people she never even knew existed a couple hours ago, and ‘weak’ was something she definitely was not.

“Treason!” she yelled out before she could stop herself. “It’s treason!”

The Queen of Hearts let go of her shoulder and smiled. “And you know what that means; OFF WITH HER HEAD!”

“NO!” Chloe yelled as two soldiers nearest to her mother surrounded her on both sides and picked her up.

“It’s okay, Chloe,” the queen said, tears already falling down her face as they carried her away.

A huge lump rose in Red’s throat as she watched them open one of the card gates and took her through it the same way they did with Fairy Godmother.

She felt sick when her mother pulled her in for a hug.

“I am so proud of you. You’re going to be just like me after all.”

The Queen planted a heart-shaped kiss on her daughter’s cheek happily, and Red stood there, stunned by the sudden show of affection by also conflicted by the cost it was bought at.

She could also hear the comments the crowd were making.

“Look at her, she’s enjoying this.”

“Like mother, like daughter.”

“Someone needs to let King Christopher know!”

Her hands went to her small bag, where the time machine Maddox gave her was.

She unzipped the bag and carefully reached for it just as Chloe angrily approached the stage, hands on the handle of her sheathed sword.

“Hey!” she yelled at the Queen. “Bring my mother back, right now!”

“Aww…bless your heart,” the Queen replied lazily.

Chloe began to unsheathe her sword, a murderous look in her eye.

Red jumped down from the stage as she saw her attempt to throw it, one hand still carefully fixed on the time machine.

She grabbed Chloe’s sword with her other hand and pushed it back into her light blue leather sheathe and they tussled, only to be stopped by a whoosh of light and a large gust of wind that blew them apart from each other.

Both girls groaned in pain as they landed on hard ground.

Red rubbed at her eyes and sat up as Chloe did the same.

They looked round, only to see that they were still in the school’s Courtyard, although it was missing the stage, the lights and all the fancy snacks and decorations.

Confusion filled Red’s head for a second before she gasped and held up the watch, which shone in holographic colours and ticked away as usual.

“Where are we?” Chloe said, hands going to her sword as she pushed herself off the ground.

“Not ‘where’,” Red said, doing the same. “When?”

“What are you talking about?”

Red raised the time machine up for her to see.

“Why are you showing me a shiny pocket watch?”

“Because it’s not a shiny pocket watch. It’s a time machine made with the best Wonderlandian technology. It was supposed to take me back in time in case of an emergency. I must have hit the button when I was trying to stop you from getting out your sword, and know we’re back here for some reason.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s a magic time machine and we’re back in time or whatever. Do I look stupid to you?”

Red gave her a once-over. “Honestly speaking, you do.”

Chloe pulled out her sword, aiming it for Red’s neck. “I know this is one of you and your mum’s crazy tricks, and it ends now. Take me to my mum or else-!”

“-Or else, what? You’ll kill me? Be my guest. But I know how to work this thing and you don’t. And whether you believe me or not, I know we’re in another time.”

Just then, there was a sound of someone whistling sweetly and approaching the other side of the Courtyard. Chloe put the sword away as the girl came into view.

“Bibbidi bobbidi boo!” she said quietly, aiming a small wand at some bushes and making them bloom with flowers, which only lasted for a few seconds before disappearing.

“Hey, excuse me,” Chloe said, going up to meet the girl.

“Yes?”

The girl was wearing a light purple dress with a hood that was held by a big pink bow on the front of the bodice. She had brown hair held back in a bun, a round face with pretty pink cheeks and eyes that were like a dark-coloured opal, flickering with colours and magic.

“I’m sorry, but do you know where we are? Where are all the people that were here for the opening ceremony?”

“Oh,” the girl said, looking round. “What ceremony? It’s a school day. We don’t have anything but classes.”

“But classes at Auradon Prep don’t start on resumption day!”

The girl blinked at her. “What’s Auradon?”

This time Chloe blinked, fear turning her blood cold. What if the villain girl was right and they really were back in time?

“Um, hi. Sorry for my friend here. We’re new students, and we’re kind of lost,” Red said, joining them and cutting in.

“Ohhh. That makes much more sense,” the girl said, smiling warmly at Red. “Welcome to Merlin Academy. I’m Faye.”

Chloe gasped out and then disguised it as a cough, while Red hid her surprise with a nervous chuckle as she took Faye’s outstretched hand and shook it.

“Faye as in the Fairy Godmother?” Red asked, pointing at the wand in her hands.

“In training. I’m here as a two year exchange student from another school, a school specifically for fairies and other magic users. I was sent with some others to train under Merlin himself.”

“Amazing. Well, I’m..um..Scarlett, and this here is..uh..Catherine, but you can call her Cate.”

Chloe gave her a look but went with it nonetheless. “Nice to meet you.”

“Well I suppose I ought to get you girls to a teacher or something,” Faye said, pocketing her wand.

“That’d be great,” Chloe said before Red could argue.

Just then, there was a rustling in the bushes.

“Oh dear,” Faye mummered.

“Is it an animal or something?” Red asked.

Instead of an animal, a tall, lean dark-skinned boy dressed in dark purple and wearing a top-hat with a skull design walked out of the bushes.

“You missed me, Fa-?” he began, his words cut short once he sighted the two girls.

Faye walked over to him, her face red with embarrassment.

“New friends?”

“Ladies, this is Antoine Facilier. He’s not supposed to be here,” she said, adding stress to the words in the last sentence.

Antoine bowed, taking off his top hat to reveal the tapered waves on his head. “Enchanté. I might not go to this school officially, but I sure do attend it.”

He laughed at his own joke, standing up straight and looking intensely at both girls. “Something tells me you two aren’t from round here.”

“Yeah, we’re new to the school,” Red said.

“No....not just that. There’s something about you two. I’ll have to consult my friends on the other side; they’ll know.”

“You do that,” Faye said, walking away. “Come on, girls.”

“Not so fast.” Antoine pulled Faye back by her hand and turned her to face him. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I’ve been busy. I’ll help you out with that…eh…assignment once I have the time.

Antoine smirked at her. “Promise?”

“Fairies’ honour.”

“Well all right, then. You ladies enjoy the rest of your day.”

He tipped his hat again and then disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.

“Let’s go,” Faye said, attempting not to sound as flustered as she felt.

Chloe on the other hand, was not shy about how flustered she felt and dragged Red to walk beside her, a comfortable distance behind Faye.

“Why did that watch thingy of yours bring us here?” she whisper-yelled. “Because I just saw one of the women who raised me being all mushy gushy with one of the worst villains out there.”

“Antoine’s a villain?”

“At the very least he grows up to be one; Dr. Facilier. Nearly responsible for the deaths of Queen Tiana and King Naveen of Maldonia.”

“I have no clue who any of those people are, so his actions against them really don’t concern me.”

“Whatever…why are we here?”

Red wracked her brain for a suitable answer. Maddox had said that the time machine was specially designed to take her to the point in time she needed at that very moment.

“When I brought the watch out, all I wanted was to stop my mum. I thought it would take me back a couple minutes, but it brought us back way before we were born…meaning the problem needs to be fixed in this specific time period.”

Chloe nodded, doing her own mental calculations. “My mum mentioned that it was a super harsh prank that traumatized yours and turned her into the delight she currently is. Maybe we were sent here to stop it from happening?”

“You’re right! We must’ve been sent to this point in time to stop that prank from being played on my mum. But…how?”

“We’re gonna need to locate them first, and then get to know their friends and enemies. That way we can narrow down our suspects and get a good idea of what’s going on.”

“Wow, you’re good at this.”

“Thanks. My dad taught me in his Strategic Ruling class.”

The word ‘dad’ made Red pause for half a second as she remembered what her mother had said to the Fairy Godmother before she had her sent away.

”And I know you’re aware of who her father is.”

There was also Fairy Godmother’s shocked response.

“S-she’s Thorne’s daughter?”

Whoever this Thorne guy was, she would find him as well.

[goblin-writer]

Sometimes all you need is Magic

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain sluiced through the grand streets and whispered down alleys. The night sky lit starkly by the near constant rolling flashes of lighting. Even the wind could, at times, be roused to run past a window, howling or cackling madly. Flinging about all manner of muck.

Leaves were plastered against windows. Mud adorned the fresh painted walls. And a great many people crowded indoors.

After all, indoors keeps you safe from the predations of the weather. A good roof, closed windows, and well plugged walls all speak to a well-kept household. And many well kept households made a neighbourhood. And these neighbourhoods, when sufficiently, convinced would form a town.

Or even, when the fancy struck, a city.

But every city had a neighbourhood that was less well regarded. Not due to any fault of the people living there. In fact you could often find people that would give you their last left boot if you needed it. Just the left, mind you. The right was, after all, the foot you should keep dry for your so-called helth.

No, the great wizard Mildew thought, these neighbourhoods were often predisposed to being just leeward of the tanneries and dye makers. Just below a sewage outlet. The place the hoipolloi preferred to forget about.

But the rent was cheap, he thought as he emptied the third bucket of the night out the window. Four stories down into a street that was doing its best river impression.

Sure, his roof leaked, and the window didn’t shut properly, but the people here helped replace his books after the book worms got in. They did wreak havoc on the hardcovers. And they had helped when the paint peeled off his wall after his last foray into alchemy.

A sheet of rain drenched the wizard as the storm seemed to think badly of his attempt to pail the water from his study.

“Amon, come quick.” Mildew called and heard a crash from the other room. He shook his head. Amon, his assistant, had a bad habit of pulling down the curtains when called to assist.

He shut and latched the window, daring it to open again.

“Dark and stormy. Just as I get everything packed away from last time.” He turned to the doorway and saw a bundle of cloth making its way toward him, “Careful, Amon.” He unfurled the remains of a blue curtain from a tabby cat, and nuzzled it, “We can’t have you catching a cold. I need you to fetch my flint.”

Amon looked up at Mildew and blinked before turning about and ceremoniously hopping onto the last chair unoccupied by books, curling up and closing his eyes.

Mildew shook his head. He had read that wizards were meant to have cat familiars. They would help with spells and sending messages but every time he asked something of Amon he would get that same blink and no assistance. At least he stopped cleaning himself upon any request. Why did wizards bother with familiars?

He wondered the same as he ventured into the other room. Peeling wallpaper and boxes piled three high. Rifling through first one, then another. With some flint he could cast a protective ward. It would keep at least some rain out.

By box five he despaired in ever finding his flint. And he was enticed to surrender his search as the window crashed open in the other room. With a start he dashed back in, towel in hand, and spread it below the window.

“Where did I leave that flint?” He wondered aloud. Only to be answered once by the crack of lightning and once by the bored meow of Amon. He could imagine what the cat was saying.

Don’t worry Mildew, I know where it is. Just go to the kitchen and bring me a tuna mayonnaise sandwich. Then I’ll give it to you.

“We don’t have tuna, Amon.” He sighed and looked at the cat, “And the flint will help both of us.”

Amon yawned and stood, hopping off the chair, tail high, and sauntered into the bedroom. As Mildew watched he spotted flint and steel next to a candle, dripping its wax into ever higher towers on the back of a pile of leather-bound books.

He closed and latched the window, grabbed the flint and started casting a spell. In his mind he could extend the magical cover to the entire ceiling of the room. And, much as he had been taught he chanted and visualised the space above the roof. A thin protective field diverting rain into the street below and not onto his floor, nor into his nearly full bucket.

As he spoke the last word he heard a loud crash as smoke wreathed him for just a moment. Next a cold wind surrounded him.

His eyes adjusted to the light.

Above him?

The barrier had worked.

Above him the rain splattered down onto an invisible forcefield.

He looked down.

It was a dark and stormy night; Amon was curled up in a mostly empty moving box.

And the great wizard Mildew was stuck on his roof.

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Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial for this wonderful prompt. I had wanted to go a decidedly gruesome way originally but couldn't get this out of my head.