#i kept screaming at all her wins like a banshee i tell you a BANSHEE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gamerwoo · 4 years ago

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[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part One)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, 150% angst, character death (technically not major character but they’ve been mentioned a lot)

Word count: 3,461

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

a/n: things in bold are in english

You were nervous all night for two reasons.

The first and biggest reason was that your pack was out facing guards, hunters, and townsfolk. The odds that anybody could die were very great, and that shot fear into your very core. Your brother was your blood, and you cherished him with everything. Without your brother, you didn’t know what you would do. He protected you, kept you under control, and always got you out of trouble. Your pack made you feel like you could take care of something, and you would do anything to make them feel safe and cared for. You may not have been good with your emotions, but you always made sure to show the pack you loved them.

The second reason, albeit not a big reason, was that Jiung had teased you about your mate possibly being in Seungcheol’s pack. All he told you was that his name was Hansol, and he was two years younger than you. Of course, him and Rin had a field day with teasing you about it, but you chose to try to ignore it despite your cheeks heating up like they would catch on fire, too. But even so, you were nervous about possibly meeting your mate tonight. But then again, if he was in that pack, he would be in that fight. You might not meet your mate ever.

Death was big probability tonight, and that terrified you. But all you could do was try to focus on the wolves and mates that had shown up at your door, and take care of them to the best of your abilities. Only when Jiung finally came home would you feel calm again.

Eunjin let out a blood curdling scream as soon as the three alphas had arrived from town, the rest of Jiung’s pack plus Minghao behind them. Wolves and humans alike stopped what they were doing, dropping to the ground to cover their ears in an attempt to block out the shriek.

Nobody knew exactly what caused her scream, but they assumed death must be dangerously near. It could be anybody, though, which was scary. Nobody knew who to watch out for or who to save. Nobody knew if they’d have the opportunity to cheat death. They just knew somebody was about to die.

But not unless somebody could help it.

Seungcheol lifted his head, realizing this was their out. If Eunjin’s screams distracted the humans, they could get away safely. He pulled himself off of the ground, trying to endure the screams as he made his way to each member of the pack, tapping them on the shoulder and nodding them in the direction of the clearing. The first few managed to collect the mates before leaving, making sure they were safe first.

Hansol felt the tap on his shoulder blade, lifting his head as he whined loudly. Seungcheol had one hand pressed to his ear while the other ear was laying against his shoulder. The alpha pointed toward the clearing, telling him to go, so he got up and went to run. He was one of the last ones to go, and then they’d be safe. They’d win against death.

Almost there. Just a little more until the treeline, and he was sure he could lose the hunters. But the screaming stopped when he was about 80 yards from the trees, and the humans were starting to come back to their senses.

He suddenly felt a weight on him that not only brought him to the ground, but it started to burn him. He realized it was a net that was beginning to sizzle into his exposed skin, and started to hurt even through his clothes. He whined before letting out a howl, hoping anybody could help him.

But then he realized, he didn’t want anybody in the pack to sacrifice themselves for him. He was just one person, and if somebody came back, they’d both end up being killed. It was better for this to just happen to him rather than to somebody else or multiple people.

He had a feeling when Eunjin screamed directly at him that he was the one who would die. He was the one doomed with the ‘curse of the banshee’. As he heard the cock of a gun, he knew it was it. So, he closed his eyes as he laid on the ground, waiting to be killed.

He heard the gunshot and flinched, but felt nothing new. Not more pain, not numb, and he didn’t even see a bright light like everybody said you’d see when you died. There was nothing new. He even opened his eyes and could still see everything perfectly.

Including Jiung, who was on the ground beside him, coughing up blood.

The alpha was bleeding from his stomach, having been shot in the back with the bullet going right through him, but he used whatever strength he had left to lift the silver net off of the younger wolf to free him. He didn’t even care that the silver burned his hands – he would die anyway, what did it matter?

“Hansol,” Jiung’s voice was strained, and blood spat onto the grass as he spoke. He spoke in English, which Hansol remembered was the alpha’s native tongue, “please take care of _____ for me. Don’t let her do anything stupid. Please love her with everything you have, no matter how much she lashes out. She really is the most caring girl in the world.”

Hansol had no idea what the older boy was talking about, but he refused to let him die here after saving him, “Jiung, I–”

One of Jiung’s pack – Hanbin, the fast one – had sensed his alpha was in danger and was suddenly standing in front of them after speeding back from the forest.

“Jiung–”

“Take Hansol and go,” Jiung stated, weakly shoving Hansol toward the wolf. “That’s an order, Hanbin.”

Hanbin stared down at his alpha, a loud whine emitting from him. Despite how much he wanted to help Jiung, he could only carry one of the wolves, and he couldn’t ignore Jiung’s order. His pack was ordered to protect Seungcheol’s at all costs, anyway.

Before Hansol could say anything else, Hanbin had grabbed him and run off into the woods, leaving Jiung behind.

But Jiung wasn’t sad about his death. Yes, he was upset that he would miss his sister and his pack. His heart ached knowing he’d never see his family – blood or pack – again. But he had helped another pack from feeling the same heartache his had felt when they lost brothers and sisters. He accomplished the mission he set out to achieve, and that made him smile even as tears fell from his eyes and the hunters surrounded him.

His last thought was you. You were always so strong, and he knew you’d find a way to be okay without him. If you had Hansol by your side, he was sure you could be kept under control -- the two of you were made for each other. You always did act before thinking, so he wanted to be sure you would be kept safe. After getting to know Hansol – even if it was only a little – he was positive you’d be taken care of. And that made him laugh weakly from happiness, even as his view of the stars in the sky was clouded by the masked hunters towering over him.

The last thing he heard was another scream in the woods.

You paced by the front door, blocking out whatever small talk was going on in the living room. You didn’t stop pacing until you suddenly felt something wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

You felt it at the same time that you very, very faintly heard a scream way off in the distance that sounded just like the banshee.

You’d never felt this instinct before, but you knew exactly what it was somehow. It was just the connection you had with the alpha. If anything ever happened to the alpha, the entire pack would know, and you knew Rin had the same feeling as soon as she tensed and stared back at you, her eyes wide as tears filled them.

The mates noticed your expressions and how your bodies were visibly shaking. Chanseong stood up, going over to you and putting his hands on your shoulders, “What is it? What happened?”

But you couldn’t even form words. You just stared back at him but not really at him. Your eyes were on him but your brain was somewhere else.

The alpha was dead. You could feel it.

Jiung was killed. Your twin brother. Your blood.

“_____…” Rin whispered, her bottom lip quivering as the other mates looked between you and her for answers.

The mates knew well enough about werewolf instincts. A pack was only tied to their alpha and they could sense when something was wrong with their alpha. They could put two and two together after a little bit of thinking, and Chanseong’s face fell as he realized.

Even the few wolves of Seungcheol’s pack understood. They weren’t sure if you sensed that your alpha was dead or just injured, but they knew there was trouble. But they wouldn’t ask for any clarifications. That would just be insensitive. They’d wait to be told.

“_____…?” Chanseong asked, hoping you could tell him he was wrong.

“No,” you murmured, “no, no, no, no, no…”

You suddenly whipped around and ran for the door, Chanseong’s hands falling from your shoulders. You were going to find the pack and see for yourself. And then you were going to go straight to wherever Jiung was to rip apart every single hunter and guard there limb from limb.

Despite the indescribable emotional pain she felt, Rin knew better than to just let you go off like this. She knew how you could get, and she knew you’d only get yourself into danger.

Using one of the only useful phrases she knew in Korean – thanks to your pack having to say it on many occasions – she pointed at you as you disappeared out the door, “Grab her!”

Chan immediately obliged, knowing you were going to go find the pack. He was much faster than you, and threw his weight on you, sending you both to the ground before rolling a few feet. That bought enough time for Rin to get outside and held hold you back as you tried to shove Chan off of you. You managed to get to your feet, but you now had Chan with his arms around your waist, Rin’s arms under yours and her nails digging into the front of your shoulders, and two of the mates holding onto your hands.

“_____,” Rin’s voice was harsh, and you knew she was trying to mimic the voice your brother used to make you listen, “do not start this.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you shook your head and felt cold streaks on your cheeks, “Fuck you, let me go!”

“_____–”

“Corinne, let me go!” you growled, feeling your emotions bubble up inside you until flames burst from your skin.

You felt all arms and hands suddenly release you to avoid getting burned, and you immediately took off into the woods. You heard the gasps of those who didn’t know how powerful your power was, but you didn’t have the space in your body to feel any sort of pride from their shock. All you felt was a pain in your heart you couldn’t get rid of, and a rage toward whoever let this happen. Even rage toward your brother for being dumb enough to get himself killed.

Chan caught up with you again, throwing himself at you now that the flames were out. You tumbled and rolled through the leaves and twigs of the forest floor before turning to find the pup, your eyes red with every emotion you felt. As you went to run at him, something else threw themselves at you. You felt large paws pinning your shoulders down before you looked up at the silvery wolf form of Rin. She growled at you, but you weren’t going to let her stop you on your mission – though with your mind running at a million miles a second, that mission wasn’t even that clear to you anymore.

You used all your pent-up emotion to shove Rin off of you, throwing her into Chan after he got up. You quickly got to your feet before you started running again, your legs going faster than you’d ever gone as you let your emotions push you to go faster and faster until you finally ran into the pack. But as you got closer, you noticed that there was indeed someone missing.

“_____?” Jaesang asked before you came to a stop, your feet sliding across the forest floor.

You felt Chan’s presence behind you, but you ignored him.

“Where’s Jiung?” you asked Jaesang who was leading the way.

Hanbin pushed his way through to the front. He figured if he was the one to leave your brother behind, he should be the one to tell you. Though, everybody already knew, and you could tell from the way people dropped their heads and averted their eyes that the feeling was correct. But still, you needed to hear it from somebody who was there.

“_____, I…” Hanbin trailed off, not knowing how to tell you this. There were no right words in this situation. “Jiung protected Hansol from getting shot by hunters. He told me to leave him behind, and it was save him or save Hansol. You know I can’t disobey alpha’s orders even though I wanted to…”

Everything stopped. Time, your breathing, your heart – all of it. The world seemed to be spinning, though, like you were falling to the side and tumbling down a hill. Hanbin’s words sunk into your brain, processing even though you couldn’t believe it.

Jiung was dead. He sacrificed himself to save Hansol.

Hansol.

Your supposed mate, Hansol.

You knew it wasn’t Hanbin’s fault. You knew ignoring alpha orders was basically impossible, so you couldn’t blame him for leaving him behind. But if Hansol had been more careful, Jiung wouldn’t have had to save him. You needed someone to blame, and that’s the logic your brain came up with. You needed someone to blame because Jiung wasn’t here for you to blame him. You couldn’t smack him in the back of the head and yell at him for being careless. You couldn’t tell him how fucking stupid he was for letting himself die like that. You couldn’t do anything because he was never coming back.

Your eyes scanned the group of people in front of you before they stopped on a face that was windowed between two men you didn’t recognize. As soon as you saw him, you knew it was him. Your heart fluttered, your gaze zeroed in on only him, and there seemed to be nothing else in the world except for him. Hansol.

But you also felt rage. You felt every emotion building up inside you. You wanted to pounce on him to kiss him, but also to tear him limb from limb. You wanted to hug him, but also punch him in the face. You wanted him to comfort you, but you also wanted to take away something from him like he took away something from you.

You were shaking, and everybody noticed. Your hands balled at your sides as your eyes turned red, only seeing the boy named Hansol. You felt so many things, but the biggest thing was anger. He was the reason Jiung was dead. He was the reason your brother would never come back. He was the reason the only real family you had left was taken from you forever.

Your body burst into flames that shot several feet in the air before dying back down, remaining only around your fists, “I’ll kill you!”

You lunged toward him, watching as his golden eyes went wide, and he took a step back. Hanbin caught you as you tried to toss yourself over his shoulder, an arm holding you at your waist before he set you on your feet. Jaesang rushed over to help, grabbing one arm while Hanbin grabbed the other. The mates around Hansol were moved away from you by other wolves, leaving him exposed.

You needed to get to him. You had to. You had to hurt him in some way because it wasn’t fair that he was perfectly fine, yet your brother was murdered. None of this was fair.

“_____, we are in danger,” Jaesang reminded you. “It’s perfectly fine if you want to strangle your mate, but you can do it when we get home. You’re better than this.”

Flames licked up your arms, burning the hands of your pack mates. They hissed, retracting their hold, and you immediately sprinted toward Hansol as you screamed and cried threats and profanities at him. You pulled one arm back, ready to punch him in the cheek and burn his skin.

Just as you threw your fist forward, Hansol grabbed your fist with his bare hand without even a second thought. But your flame went out with a sizzle instead of blistering his palm and making him cry in pain. You stood still for a moment, staring at your fist connected with his palm as your chest rose and fell with your heavy breathing. You hated how you loved his skin against yours. You hated how you wanted more contact.

But you especially hated how, until now, the only other person able to counter your fire was Jiung.

Hansol’s pack had no idea how he did that. As far as they were concerned, Hansol was just a normal werewolf. He never had any powers, and he never showed any signs like Seokmin had when his power was developing. But if a werewolf was meant to have a power, it would sometimes come to them randomly, or when they needed it most. Wonwoo’s power came to him when his mate and brother were all in danger, so it made sense that Hansol’s power would come to him when he had to take care of his mate.

“_____!” Hanbin barked.

With another yell, you pulled back your other hand and threw a punch. Hansol caught that too, but you could see frost faintly covering his palm before it wrapped around your knuckles and put out your flame.

A growl built up in your chest, your brows pulling down as you pulled your fist away from Hansol and reignited the fire surrounding it. In your white hot rage, you reverted back to your native tongue, but Hansol understood everything, “You killed him!”

You threw a punch. He caught it. It went out.

Your pack mates just let you throw your weak and useless punches, knowing you’d get nowhere with it.

Still, you repeated the process with your other fist, “You’re the reason he’s gone!”

You threw a punch again. He caught it again. It went out again.

Repeat.

“I hate you!”

You threw a punch. He caught it. It went out.

Repeat.

“I hate you!”

It didn’t ignite. Your fist hit his chest with only half your strength.

Repeat.

“I hate you!”

You fell to your knees.

You punched him, your fire gone out, and your strength leaving your body as sadness took over.

“I hate you.”

Hansol fell with you, letting you hit him weakly.

Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“I hate you…”

Your body shook with sobs, and you just stared down at your lap.

The crowd around you watched with saddened eyes. Even if some of them hardly knew you or Jiung, it hurt to see you in so much pain now – pain that some of them could only imagine. You lost the most important person in your life, and they recognized that. Some of them even silently cried for you, including Jaesang and Hanbin.

You recognized Jaesang’s whine, but he wouldn’t howl like wolves usually did to signal the death of a fallen pack mate. You were all still in danger. They couldn’t afford to mourn, but they let you have this moment because Jiung was your twin brother and the only person you felt could really understand you.

You felt warmth as Hansol wrapped his arms around you, and you just sobbed into his shoulder because the pain of losing your brother was too much for you. You hated how his warmth made you feel somewhat comforted.

“I hate you…” you cried.

Finally, he responded to you, “I know. That’s okay.”

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stilesxeveryone · 3 years ago

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The Rewatch, pt4

Feel free to message or comment any of your own thoughts/opinions!

Season 2, episode 7

All adults in the vicinity crossing their arms as soon as Stiles opens his mouth to say something stupid

“No stiles!” Rip all of his Stiles privileges

I have to assume that kanima!Jackson assaulted Allison because Matt is into her, which is a whole new level of creepy because oh god that means Matt can control the kanima more than just “hey kill that guy”, like this suggests it sort of takes on Matt’s emotions and shit

Stiles knows Jackson’s birthday

Uhhhh missed the rest of the episode because I was drawing, whoops

Just Peter traumatising Lydia, it’s fine

Season 2, episode 8

I always love Stiles and his father interacting tbh, they very much know how to deal with each other’s bullshit a lot of the time and I appreciate it. Seeing them work on a case together is wonderful

Again, this scene between Stiles and his dad about him losing his sheriff position is actually heartbreaking, goddamn

Ah, the first hints of Scott/Isaac

Reminder that Jackson is canonically queer

Also yesssssssssss magic Stiles! That’s my boyyyyyy! I need to write witch Stiles again

Stiles being pack mum will continue to always be one of my favourite tropes and this is just reminding me that I want to rewrite my 10 chapter fic about human alpha Stiles

Deaton saying the teenagers are “more capable than you think” is a goddamn terrible take, they need so much help. Like yeah they can get out of this alive, but your job as emissary/mentor/adult/whatever is to help reduce their trauma

Season 2, episode 9

I feel like the only time I ever really see Lydia’s trauma mentioned in fics is like in passing about why she hates Peter, but maybe I just don’t read enough fics about Lydia

Also I don’t mean this in a weird way, but I really like the sound of Lydia’s scream. Sometimes shows just use bad screams and it’s a tragedy, but the scream they use for Lydia is brilliant

“Doesn’t being a part of your pack mean no more secrets” I can’t tell if that’s Scott being hypocritical or manipulative but wow

Even though I don’t like Allison’s mother, it still breaks my heart to see her try to talk to Allison before she takes her own life, and Allison doesn’t know so she just brushes her off

Stiles kept in touch with the drag queens which is actually amazing information

Again! Stiles and his father! Making me cry! I mean this time it’s a hallucination but goddamn

Chris was killing his wife, I was thinking about how strong his forearms looked

I’m really interested to know how in the world Peter knew that Lydia was immune/a banshee, and that she’d be able to bring him back

Season 2, episode 10

Someone needs to explain this part to me. Like I literally don’t understand the order of events of Matt and the kanima bonding and Isaac’s dad dying. Like did Jackson kill him before they bonded, and if so why didn’t he bond with Isaac instead? Or did he somehow bond with Matt before killing Isaac’s dad, even though this flashback clearly shows them bonding after the fact?

Please someone give me an explanation

“Scott I trust” that is such a sad line

Hhhhhhh wish people would stop manipulating Allison, and can we get some better communication over here please!

Okay Stiles’ dad shouting Scott’s name first when he hears a gunshot kinda hurts guys

I do appreciate that this show doesn’t half ass their villain character motivations. Sometimes I see villains and I have literally no idea why they do what they do, but not this guy

Okay clearly this show enjoys killing their villains in the same way twice, like they burned Peter twice, and now they’re drowning Matt twice

Season 2, episode 11

Stiles (Dylan O’Brien) is so pretty (and clearly this cameraman knew it)

Isaac coming into the vet clinic like a lost pup is really adorable, and him crying after taking the dog’s pain away 🥺

Peter you manipulative son of a bitch, stop looking so good

Oh boy Allison going off the rails and hunting Erica and Boyd, I wish she’d go feral in the other direction and shoot Gerard

Stiles winning the game, and having this amazing moment and having something to be proud of, and then immediately getting kidnapped is kinda fucked up and I appreciate it

Season 2, episode 12

As always, give me pack mum Stiles or give me death

And as always, Stiles never shutting his mouth during interrogations and fights is my favourite thing to see. Also would be into a Stargent or Stallison fic where one of them realises Stiles is down in the basement and they step in

Why does Stiles look so good with that blood on his face

And that no one! No one knows! That Gerard beat Stiles up! As far as we see, he doesn’t tell anyone about it!!!

I honestly appreciate that Chris goes to the side of the werewolves before Allison does, I think it’s very fun and cool

And here it is, the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Scott using Derek to kill Gerard. He’s just so uncaring about the fact that he lied to everyone about what was happening, planned to violate Derek’s autonomy and had planned to murder Gerard, like it’s so weird to see him so nonchalant about it

Erica and Boyd just can’t catch a break

I think there are definitely parts of this season that I enjoy more than the first, and parts I enjoy less. I love the characters they introduce (Isaac, Erica and Boyd) and I love the exploration of Allison’s character, and Stiles’ relationship with his dad. I hate Gerard (which is a good thing), and god bless Chris coming round to the winning side (even though technically he went through this same thing last season, of realising his family member must be stopped before his daughter gets hurt).

I do wish the ending was different, and that Scott went about defeating Gerard in a different way. Or at least for him to show any empathy? He just feels so callous and uncaring as he uses Derek and as Gerard dies and I don’t know if it’s bad acting or bad writing or maybe even my misunderstanding of his character, but I feel like that just doesn’t fit him.

Also maybe this is just me, but I kinda wish that Matt wasn’t major stalking Allison. It feels a little like an unnecessary cherry on top, or maybe I’m just not thinking hard enough about what it added to the season.

#the rewatch #alex rewatches teen wolf #teen wolf

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jenniferyoung · 4 years ago

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name: jennifer young age: 38 fc: laura vanderroort time in charming: life long occupation: trauma counsellor side: devils positive traits: + valiant, + fierce, + loving negative traits: - worrywart, - insecure, - stubborn children: one boy, 22 years old siblings: one older brother

trigger warnings(please read them carefully, her background is very dark and traumatic): kidnap, abuse, implied rape, teen pregnancy, traumatic child-birth.

this is gonna be really long and i’m sorry. if you actually read it all i’ll give you a cookie

✹ early life was pretty simple, even with a dad and brother in the MC

✹ plans to graduate and go to college to study archaeology

✹ that got yeeted when she was kidnapped not long after her 16th birthday

✹ jenny had been walking home from a friends when she was grabbed from behind and knocked out

✹ she woke up in a basement with her hands and feet chained to the bed. loose enough for her to move around and sit up but not to get free

✹ her captor? turned out to be a man who she’d been seeing a lot of in the last weeks. random encounters that seemed so innocent until right now

✹ he was quite young, late 20′s maybe but he was absolutely insane. completely infatuated with her and thought that by kidnapping her, he could have her for himself and they’d have a happy life. loco maniac with big temper issues

✹ naturally she did try countless times to escape but would be quickly slapped down, only for him to cry and apologise afterwards, “why did you make me do that” as though any of it was her fault

✹ once the abuse turned into physical touches, that’s when her tears dried up and her mind began to go into autopilot. not to mention the drugs he forced down her throat to keep her subdued really took away a lot of her will to fight

✹ it had been two whole months when she finally started accepting her fate. nobody was ever going to find her and as if the man could see that light go out in her eyes, that night he pinned her down and raped her in spite of her pleas

✹ he even had the audacity to call it love

✹ she was pretty much broken after this. especially since she had been a virgin, so imagine how traumatised she was when another 2 months slipped by and she realised she hadn’t had her period

✹ it had been his plan all along, he wanted a family with her because he was convinced “you’ll love me eventually”

✹ it would have been easy enough to break completely but in the following weeks, something really strange happened. instead of focusing on the trauma, on how used and disgusting she felt, she focused on her growing bump

✹ hours alone in the dark, she began to talk to it, as though somehow it was a comfort to them both

✹ the first time she felt it kick was the first time in months she had a spark of life behind her blue eyes. so she did fall in love, not with her captor, but with her baby

✹ at first she did try to hate it, this thing growing inside her that she didn’t ask for but she couldn’t. how could you blame an innocent life for how it came to be?

✹ the following months, she began to put on an act. starting with a smile now and again that looked genuine, to a laugh at one of the mans jokes. making him believe he was winning, that she was slowly coming around to the idea of being with him

✹ for the most part, it worked. the abuse stopped, she convinced him to stop drugging her because it wasn’t good for “their” baby

✹ the plan was to eventually convince him to unchain her. he agreed to unchain her feet, which was a start ( and a relief considering the metal had long since dug right into her ankles )

✹ she waited a few more days but before she could ask about her hands, she felt the first signs of labour

✹ newly terrified, she literally cried and begged him to call an ambulance because holy fuck

✹ obviously he refused and she spent the next 30 hours in excruciating agony. something was not right

✹ she was bleeding, trying to fight the urge to push because her whole instincts were telling her not to, but it was no use

✹ four pushes and a whole lot of banshee screams later, she birthed a baby boy whom she begged to hold instantly, if only to take him out of the mans hands

✹ beautiful. the second he started to cry and looked up at her with his blue eyes she knew there wasn’t anything or anyone she’d ever let hurt him

✹ somewhere between the mixture of emotions, she hadn’t realised that she was starting to bleed out and the panic returned

✹ frantically, she tried to tell the man that he needed to unchain her and take her to a hospital and to her almost shock, he agreed. like he was actually concerned that she was going to bleed out and die if he didn’t.

✹ it was practically impossible to get up the stairs and even harder to hold her son against her chest whilst looking with double vision for something she could use as a weapon

✹ the glimmer of something shiny caught her eye and in a burst of bravery and energy, she grabbed it (a shiny vase on the table top) and swung it around, smashing it off his head

✹ thank god it must have knocked him out for at least a few seconds because she managed to get to and out the front door

✹ that’s when she realised she was still in charming. not only that, but she could see the clubhouse from where she stood & so she ran (hobbled, hopped, nearly crawled w/e) bursting through the doors like something out of a horror movie, dirty and bloody and instantly on her knees because she couldn’t support her own weight anymore

✹ her father, brother and a couple other members instantly flew to her aid. it had to have been nearly a year since she went missing and now here she was, holding a baby and about to die

✹ “he’s mine” was almost all she could manage to whisper as she had no energy to stop one of the guys taking him from her “don’t let him touch him, don’t– don’t let him” don’t let the captor touch her son, is what she meant

✹ it was barely a second after everything turned black and when she woke, it was three days later and she was in hospital. safe

✹ she only asked once about the guy and got the reply from her dad “it’s been handled” presumably she left a good trail of blood for them to find the source. but she never did dare ask, had she killed him with the vase? or did they. not that she cared.

✹ she only went over her ordeal once with her parents, her brother and the mc’s president at the time and then she told them she never wanted to relive it. which suited them just fine because they couldn’t have the guys dead body getting tied to them.

✹ so the only alternative? was to say she had ran away, that she fell pregnant and that’s why she stayed away until she got scared and came home. cue the judgement from the towns snooty bitches

✹ it was a fight and a half to keep her son, with a mother who wanted to support her decision but a father who was adamant she wouldn’t be able to cope

✹ it got overly extreme, she threatened to end her own life if he had her baby taken away & went on to explain that her son was the only thing that kept her going in those months

✹ she wanted to raise him, teach him to be kind and be a good man and to her relief, her father relented

✹ she named him liam because she always recalled someone telling her it meant “unwavering saviour”

✹ the next five years were tough, but she never gave up and she never quit. she focused her energy on her son, on learning to handle her ordeal in a healthy manner. her father paid good money for her to see a trauma counsellor, one out of town who wouldn’t ask questions they didn’t have answers to. the only rules? never tell them her real name (she posed as someone called lucy) and never name the man so it could never be traced back to them

✹ it was an uphill battle and to be honest, even now sometimes it still is

✹ she was inspired by the way the counsellor helped her and decided that’s what she wanted to do with her life now, so she went back to school and studied for a degree

✹ she’s now a qualified trauma and ptsd counsellor with her own office in the hospital. she also does a lot of fundraising for charities that feel close to her heart. domestic violence, etc. etc.

✹ when she was 25, she finally spoke out at a charity auction she’d organised for survivors and it was hands down the scariest thing she’d ever done. but she did it because she wanted to help young girls see that there was always a light at the end of the tunnel. that you’re not defined by your trauma ( she had to tweak a couple facts, such as saying it happened out of town and that the guy got away )

✹ sooo yeah, she’s one tough bitch now. taught herself how to fight and yoo she kicks ass. got a lot of her confidence back and made damn sure she was raising a good boy

✹ there is literally nobody on this earth she loves more than liam and even though he’s 22 now, he’s still very much her baby and her saving grace

bop bop bop there we have it. *hands you a chocolate chip cookie*

connections:

friends

enemies

exes ending on good or bad terms

fwb or past hook ups maybe

someone she councils would be great

her soN liam would be even better. i visualise him as brandon flynn if he could work for you. alternatively, joe keery or dacre montgomery? it’s negotiable

her older brother would be great too

or any mc members who were around at the time her trauma happened

life long besties who would also know the truth whilst everyone else assumed she was some dumb slapper who got knocked up

anything elseeee

#charming.intro #about #TRIGGERS: stated just above the read more - please read them carefully this is some dark stuff

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dfordragons · 5 years ago

Text

The Divine & The Damned

The last of the unfortunate explorer of Glimmerwood, now entangled in poisonous animated vines was finally blown away by the silver-haired elfs peculiar yet somewhat majestic purple eldritch beams before she got back to scratching her painfully itchy injuries.

“That’s it?”

A deep voice sounded from under the black helmet with the meticulous resemblance of a skull, the dark tone of which was mitigated only by a grey gem embedded in its centre as he perceived the environment around them. The weeping that had surrounded the forest for a while had yet to stop, if anything, it only grew stronger.

“I think so?” A taller, slender man responded; his pale skin highlighted his blue eyes.

“Oh no” A dwarven girl, sharing the same colour tone as the elvish figure said in awe.

“Rynvia? What is it?” Another dwarf patted her on the shoulder, unlike her, he was covered in deep wounds from his bald head to the toes most likely, but nobody could see below his shoulders with the swamp water up to their neck.

The weeping grew stronger as a figure hovered from tree to tree.

The figure in the skull helmet went back into his battle stance, yet he knew not what they were even talking about, he wasn’t the most perceptive, nor the sharpest tool in the shed.

“Okay make us fly, Doronin make us fly right now!”

He screamed as he eventually saw the figure approach, hovering and crying, but magic wasn’t that simple.

The hovering figure looked magnificent as she approached them, her messy, green hair had a charm to it, while her blue eyes only added to the wood-elven characteristics she bore. Yet her translucent figure only spelled trouble in their heads. As she saw them she stopped weeping, well, sort of.

“Who.. Who is this?” she asked.

“She talks..?”

“She talks.”

“Wow.”

“She’s so pretty.”

They all whispered amongst them.

“I..Am Leonard?” he said through the helmet as he sensed her undead nature.

“And I’m Doronin” sounded the declared sorcerer from a safe range.

“And Rynvia” the dwarven girl said in awe while the other dwarf stayed silent as did the elven figure, not a few seconds passed before she took note of her.

“And you…You…Who are you?” She said as she hovered towards her, in just as much awe as Rynvia spoke to her. Her eyes pinned on her.

In an awkward, somewhat troubled by her behaviour tone she responded hesitantly

“I’m Yliv.”

“You’re so pretty Yliv” she continued

“She is isn’t she?” He mumbled before getting back to his senses

“That’s not the point, who are you, what are you doing here?” Leonard turned around to look at her, still sceptical and caught off guard.

“I…” she scratched her translucent head.. “I don’t remember who I am” she said as she started crying again

“I remember I was so pretty… And this forest was so pretty…” all of them looked around in the horrible swamp they were currently in.

Rynvia remembered, she remembered the vision she had from Lyreth, the one who had sent them there. The one who had started this quest of theirs. She remembered how pretty the forest was, and grew sad knowing what it turned into.

“But then.. Fire.. A mad dragon.. A FUCKING HORRIBLE DRAGON. MEN ARE DICKS” She screeched as she continued remembering,

“AND THIS SLUT, THIS HORRIBLE SLUT CAME FROM ALL THE DEATH AND DECAY AND TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY. EVERYHING. USED MY OWN PROTECTORS AGAINST ME. THIS SLUT.”

Her voice pierced their ears as they were trying to listen yet cover them. They all looked at each other. Her eyes never stopped looking towards Yliv in awe despite the hatred in her voice.

“Um..” Leonard broke the silence after her bipolar monologue.

“But you’re so pretty” she continued saying towards Yliv.

“You are too” she responded awkwardly

“But I’m dead” she started weeping again.

The rest stayed silent before Leonard continued.

“Have.. Have you by any chance come upon a pretty tree.. Like Yliv?”

Without looking away, she responded in a sweet voice

“A pretty tree.. I like that tree.. But I can’t get close..”

Yliv figured that this was due to her not being part of the living, her experienced had taught her at least that much.

“Would you be able to take us to that tree?” Doronin added.

“I.. I could.”

“We could also help you with this.. Slut?” Leonard continued

“This slut.. THIS SLUT. SHE’S A HAG. SHE’S A HORRIBLE HAG.”

“How about you take us to the tree, and once we are done there we will help you with her.” He tried to reason with the creature.

“What is this?” the dwarf whispered to Rynvia

“I think that’s a Banshee, Dean. But she’s so pretty” she responded with her pupils dilated as he grew silent, unsure of if her response was troubling or reassuring.

“I can guide you there.. Because.. Because you are pretty” she continued looking at her.

“I shall lead the way.. Do you want to lead with me Yliv?” she said eagerly.

“I think I’m better in the back.. Looking around….” Her tone was more of a questioning tone on whether this excuse would work than a statement.

“Okay..” She said disappointed as she led them.

“But stay.. Stay quiet, my creatures.. My beautiful creatures from this THIEVING SLUT are very perceptive”

They treaded for hours in the swamp waters and the mud before reaching the drier part of the swamp. The humidity combined with the summer heat even below the thick tree line wasn’t making their journey any easier. Eventually they decided to settle for the night in a hollow tree trunk. It wouldn’t fit all of them, but someone had to keep watch.

Yliv against her better judgement decided to go above the tree line to measure the distance towards the bespoke tree. She soon found out that she should’ve trusted her instinct, as she turned into a raven, she flew through the tree line.

Before she knew it she became entangled in a spiders net. The only problem was that the spider was much bigger than anticipated. Lucky for her, as a giant raven she was also stronger than her average bird, breaking free from the web right before she became dinner. Flying down entangled in the web she had an anomalous, yet still elegant landing.

“Um.. You have white stuff on your hair” Doronin pointed out while the rest laughed.

“Could be worse.” She responded.

“Was everything okay up there?” he continued

“Everything was fine.” She smiled back before turning her back and facing the creepy, yet somewhat cute Banshee they had met.

“So how far are we?” Leonard asked

“I couldn’t see much.” She responded before Kaylen, Doronins owl flew upwards.

Luckily, he was much more elegant than a giant raven. Seeing through him, Doronin saw the beautiful night sky without the light pollution of Westgate, but not much else aside from small, star-like looking lights far from where they came from, perhaps the Irraebor. Coming down from his brief flight, the party had decided to gather a few materials for a fire.

Doronin, willingly scattered to find possible materials to use, before sticking his blade handle on a tree and.. Taking a piss.

In the meanwhile, Dean stayed with the ladies, rather silent.

Until everyone except for Dean heard in their mind

“Dear Arthur”

“Dear Rynvia”

“Dear Yliv”

“Dear Doronin”

“I, Lord of Waterdeep, Chosen of Mystra, Laeral Silverhand summon you to have an audience with me about your recent claims. Force Grey will meet you and accompany you from Irraebor to Waterdeep safely. They shall await at the Black Talon Headquarters for 3 days starting tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

The authoritarian voice finally seized to speak.

“Um..We’re kind of busy.” Rynvia responded while Yliv didn’t bother responding.

“Don’t. Be. Late.”

Doronin stuttered in the sound of the Lord of Waterdeep

“Um.. Can we get an extension or something? We’re out of town for now.”

The same response as Rynvia sounded in his mind.

“We’re in the middle of something here. Isn’t the fact that the king of Cimbar has said so?”

Leonard had grew in cockiness

“The king of..” she said laughingly in his mind

“It’s funny, because the king of Cimbar is here for talks these days.. Tell me, when were you the king Arthur?”

Leonard started panicking. His brother was there. If he was there, that was bad.

“Listen closely. Do not trust him.”

“You listen closely. Don’t. Be. Late”

“I won’t be responsible for you losing your kingdom.”

He never heard back.

“So I was wondering.. Where did you say you got that armor from?”

Yliv asked Dean while resting in the tree trunk, fully knowing the armor was identical to the bladesinger she had met a few days ago.

“This Vanduin tailored it for me.. It was a gift for winning my first fight in Ysgard.”

“So everything has a price for him?”

“Proving yourself is his moto.. Not one I’m fond of, I died many times in this place, rather not talk about it” he said in a more serious tone

“I understand.”

Rynvia was just looking at her brother, both happy and nostalgic about how they were as kids.

“I..” He took out a small gem stone

“I have this.”

“What’s this?” Yliv tried to get a closer look to the stone

“It’s meant to take me back if I wish”

“And.. Do you?”

“Not really, but it’s something I thought that’s cool” he smiled back at her and looked towards Rynvia

“We have to find our brother.”

Leonard overheard the last sentence as he was coming back from his gathering trip with Doronin.

“I believe we have to speak, Dean, Rynvia.” He also said in a serious, yet somewhat uncomfortable manner.

“Yes?..” She responded.

“I had told you that before I ran away I was a general of the army of Cimbar..”

“Yes?..” She kept repeating

“Well, we were fighting barbarians in the mountains for a while, at some point we fought these Bhaal priests, at that time Bhaal was unknown to me, aside from them being murderous heretics.”

They both remained silent.

“Long story short.. I think your brother was a high priest for them.. And he may be in our dungeon..”

Both of their eyes went wide, no, everyones eyes went wide.

“WHAT?”

They both screamed.

“And.. This thing you described, Dean. About him being a different person after touching this staff. I believe it’s the same thing that happened with my helmet.”

“OH NO” Rynvia screamed

Indeed, the situation was dire, he had fought for his life against this cursed helmet before claiming it against a Bhaalspawn, he called himself. He was warned that should he fail, his soul would be trapped in the helmet, and instead, his body would now be used by whoever sat in the helmet, waiting for a victory for so long.

“I had a message from the Lord of Waterdeep, she said that my brother is there for talks”

“We did too” Rynvia spoke for both her and Yliv.

“Same here” Doronin raised his hand.

“We could potentially intercept him once we’re done here, but first I need you to contact Fenduin and have him plead to Silverhand not to trust my brother.” He said as she Rynvia already started tracing the spell glyph in the air.

“Um… Hi.” She said counting words with her fingers.

“Tell Silverhand, not to trust the king of Cimbar…” She said looking at Leo in a ‘Is that fine?’ fashion, nodding back at her.

It wasn’t long before she heard Fenduins calm voice and elven manners respond.

“I already have done so as promised. Glad to hear you’re alive. I’m in traveling to Irraebor looking for this Alia Arthur had mentioned…”

As she transferred the message to Leonard a sigh of relief sounded

“At least there’s some good news.”

It was good news indeed; she was the only thing that he missed from home. Although as of lately, the feelings of nostalgia had started fading away, or rather replaced with the fulfilment of the present, maybe for the better.

Under the wing of a powerful political figure and archmagi, she would have little to fear, he hoped.

Conversing back and forth, eventually the party ended with the hope of returning Leo to power in Cimbar, and, getting her brother out of whatever predicament he had found himself in, assuming it was a similar case.

“Maybe have a convict touch the staff, then he can take their body”

“Or maybe a different race, did he ever want to be something else when he was little..Like.. Taller?”

The conversation went on and on before they eventually warmed a few stones to bring into the hollow tree to keep them warm, a fire would probably attract unwanted attention.

“I can keep watch…” said the Banshee smilingly.

“Um..” Leonard doubted her.

“I’ll do it, I don’t sleep” Yliv continued

Her patron had given her many gifts indeed, curing her insomnia was one of them, there’s no insomnia when there’s no need to sleep.

“And if she does anything weird, I’ll wake you up.” She said in all seriousness this time around.

Leonard stayed out with her for a while before passing out, trying not to stare at her like the Banshee did.

“So.. It’s been a while since we stayed in the same room, I miss being roomates..” he muttered before he said it out a little too loud for his own good.

“Really?” she responded.

“I was used to having someone creepy staying awake all night.” He said laughingly, but with a few pinches of truth in there.

“Well, we’ve grown richer, and more comfortable.”

“That’s true.. But it was pretty nice” He kept hinting with no luck.

“Do you like it?” He pointed at the owl hair pin he had paid rather handsomely for.

“I do, I hope I never have to use it though” she responded as she played with the magical strings.

Each of the strings once broken would emit a painful ping in the receivers mind. Yet they would also let them know that someone was in trouble.

“It’s a good night.” He said looking.. Well, at the trees above them, possibly for any giant spiders.

“Oh, good night” She said before his eyes went wide in awe

“No I meant it’s a good night..”

She busted out laughing.

“True.”

And so the night passed, Leonard passed out near trunk entrance, with the Banshee staring at Yliv all night long, her idea of ‘keeping watch’ was vastly different from what the group had in mind. There was no dawn break to measure the time, nor there were any birds to be heard, but few light rays eventually started penetrating the thick swamp.

As she blinked, she bathed in darkness. She knew this darkness, she had grown in it, she felt safe. Yet it felt different, the Queen was not there to greet her, nor could she hear her steps.

Another blink, and she appeared amidst a village square. It rang no memory bells. People screamed and ran away as she walked towards the source of terror. Only to see what she originally thought to be a tiefling standing above a crying female elven teenager. An older male elf begged for mercy as the bodies of villagers lied on the ground. From where his spine was, bones that were as sharp as razors came out.

“Do not worry, I shall not hurt her, but our deal was I could have anything I wanted.. Anything that you owned.. You own this village..” the tiefling said with a grin in his face.

As she blinked once more, she was back to the swamp, with the Banshee creepily staring at her, yet Yliv finding it weirdly comforting that she was indeed still there. Whatever that was, it was new. And she wasn’t sure it was for the best.

Staying out during the night was rough, she was sure to catch a cold, yet Leonard slept outside too, he was too big for the tree trunk, or perhaps he was just making sure she was safe. And his warmth, even when he slept, kept her from catching a cold in the middle of nowhere. Leonard, on the other hand had ironically woken up with a cough in the morning.

Rynvia opened her eyes to the sight of Doronins peculiar owl indiscreetly staring at her chest. It wasn’t long before she regretted the fact that she could talk. With her being a minor annoyance, she snapped her fingers as battlecries sounded in the forest. Leonard jumped out of his sleep, grabbed his sword and charged towards the sound at the distance. Rynvia may have gone a little overboard with her thaumaturgic cantrip, but she sat back and enjoyed the reaction nevertheless.

It wasn’t long before she called the cantrip off. Leonard had only ran some meters away, still within the vicinity of Yliv and the rest as he stopped, listening carefully after the abrupt ending of the screams. It was then that he heard the sound of multiple insectoids screeching around him, preparing for their first meal of the day. A dozen of ooze-leaking spiders had started coming around him, probably attracted from his own battle cry. They didn’t look very threatening, aside from being the size of his palm. With the rest of his comrades rushing to help, Rynvia wrestling each of them until they were squished while Dean, Yliv and Doronin had a the backseat of electrocuting and barbecuing them, it was over quickly.

“That was eas---” Leonard spoke too quickly as one had crawled inside his plate armor, he felt its teeth.. Or was it claws? Dragging along his back, her acidic poison burning him to the bone as he screamed in pain. It looked bad, but nothing Rynvia couldn’t take care of with the divine powers Liira had entrusted her with.

Despite their victory, they kept looking around for the ‘barbarians’ Leonard had heard… Rynvia never told him the truth, she liked her head in-tact, plus, nobody would argue about the fun factor of the situation they had gotten themselves in without anyone getting hurt.. A lot.

The party proceeded eating their not-so-glorious breakfast compared to their time spent in Westgate, at the Baron Fenduins keep, or any other day before their arrival to the mansion, be it a casino ship, or representing a magic shop owner at the fighting tournament in Oakrun. The banshee slowly but steadily led them through the drier parts of the swamp towards the tree they had been talking about all along.

Eventually, they arrived. The dim light from the thick forest line of the swamp finally started breaking by the summer sun. The dirty waters and the musty, somewhat decaying smell around them started changing. In front of them lied a clear, deep blue lake. A small island sat in the middle of it, bearing a tree beautiful enough to make up for the entire unfriendly swamp that they had treaded in.

“That’s as far as I can go” said the Banshee as if she was about to cry..Again.

“We’ll be back” Leo assured her as he started taking off his armor.

“I can make us walk on water” Rynvia said halfway, receiving a miffed look from Leonard which spent the last 5 minutes donning off his equipment ever so slowly.

After a bunch of small discussions on how wise it would be to walk on top of uncharted waters, they had decided to take the risk. Leonard took the first step in while fully expecting to sink, to his surprise, he didn’t. Yet something else occurred.

A pinching sensation surrounded him from head to toe, for a split second he wanted his skin to melt off him, before a peculiar sense of warmth he hadn’t sensed in a while surrounded him. The smell of lilac replaced the smell of the swamp entirely. His dark, somewhat rusty helmet became partially grey, as if it was purged from the misdeeds of the past.

The rest followed, experiencing similar sensations, with Rynvia being the least affected, she was used the divine energy surrounding her, yet not necessarily that kind.

After treading rather quickly to the other side of the shore, hoping they wouldn’t attract any lake predators, they had arrived to the centre of the island. The warmth grew ever more stronger with every step towards the tree. The entire island was covered in its roots. Pink petals were scattered in the air and in the ground. None of them could remember the last time they encountered something this beautiful. Edgar, Ylivs Raven went on a patrol with Kaylen to scout ahead. Through his eyes she saw a tall statue of questionable material standing near the tree bearing an inscription at the bottom of the platform it stood on. In the meanwhile, Leonard examined the tree through his divine senses. The entire place seemed to overflow with abjuration magic, whilst a stronger aura came from the statue. The tree itself radiated with divine magic. He proceeded to touch the tree, looking for potential passage, yet only found a small hollow, only enough for his hand to fit through.

Rynvia took an alternative approach, deciding to hug it instead, while her brother kept an eye out for potential threats. The warmth as she hugged it overtook her with positive emotions. She remembered this place through her vision of the past. The dying place of a deity. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for what had happened to her.

At the same time, Yliv and Doronin examined the inscription plate of the statue, it read;

“Only the bold and the worthy shall be blessed by her divine grace. Those who prey and steal shall lose much fore than their filthy hands”

Simultaneously, Leonard had already placed his hand in the hollow, using the bag Lyreth had given them in their first encounter, remembering his words on the potential hazards of the item he had sent them to recover. As his hand went deeper, he could feel the warm pulse of whatever lied in there.

Yliv and Doronin were debating on what the inscription could mean, clueless of what was going on behind them. The statue was marvellous. It wasn’t stone yet it was sturdy as stone, it wasn’t plate but it shined just as much. And last but not least, it may have only been a statue, but they felt intimidated.

And then, Leonard finally pulled something from the tree.

“I got it.”

He said loudly.

As they turned around and headed towards him, he felt the abjuration magic that surrounded them fade away, the tree had started to wither. Rynvia started screaming to Leonard to put it back as it turned into just another tree of the swamp. The dirty waters that were being kept out finally slipped in the blue lake, the water slowly became muddier by the second. The smell of lilac had turned into the musty smell of the swamp waters. Yet he felt something else, as he saw Doronin and Yliv head his way, the abjuration magic from the statue did not cease to exist. Instead, as they turned around they saw the statue leaking of blue, most likely arcane energy from every part of it where its armor had a gap. The runes on its shield and weapon had brightened up, as it stepped off the platform.

Leonard wasn’t surprised but wanted to get its attention to protect the rest. And so he did;

He walked forward with the stone in hand. The statue remained in position. Everyone who could sweat within their party was already sweating.

The phrase below the platform started echoing from within it. Yet nobody knew what it meant. The knew that it was neutral, for now at least, towards them.

“We are not here to steal.”

He said.

“We.. We work for Lyreth?” He hoped a name would work.

It didn’t.

“Orion maybe?”

Neither did that. Or potentially the language was not correct.

Doronin decided to step it, not for the good of the group necessarily, but because he secretly wanted this very stone himself, but nobody ever really suspected it.

“I could speak to it in celestial, just give me the stone so I can have its attention”

Leonard passed the stone to him unknowingly.

Repeating the very same steps, no progress was made. With the statue eventually slowly clobbering his shield and weapon, Doronin took it as an act of aggression. That wasn’t the case, not until he put the stone in the bag at his side. From 40 feet, the statue took a step only to leap a breath away from Doronins space. They all had finally realised its true height, standing at just about 7 feet it was already intimidating before it was animated. Yet it didn’t attack.

“Bad move. Let’s reset this.” He thought as he took the stone from his bag and held it in front of him once more using the bag as a glove.

“What do you want us to do?” He spoke in celestial as the statue extended his arm that had yet to unsheathe his sword. He placed the stone on it with the bag, before the statue tore the bag apart and left it on its open palm.

“You said you weren’t allowed to touch the stone..Why?” He looked at the rest

“Not sure.” Yliv responded.

“Do you trust this Lyreth?”

“He looked genuine. Why?” Leonard said

Doronin wasn’t sure but he was getting the message to touch the stone.

They spent quite some time debating their next move while the echoes of the inscription kept sounding through the statue. Eventually, they had decided if one was to touch it, it should be Rynvia. The purest of them.

She walked up and Doronin tied to pick her up before realising dwarves are not as light as they look. She slowly climbed up the statue before she touched the stone. The magnificent energy she felt flowing from it was majestic, yet it soon turned into scorching pain, but she didn’t leave it. She fell on the ground with it and kept holding it.

What the rest saw was Rynvia slowly turning into dust, that’s where her brother stepped in and grabbed the stone with her, slowing its effects while looking at the rest. They were all hesitant, yet she wouldn’t let it go, and they wouldn’t let her go. Leonard stepped in next, with Doronin and Yliv following suit. The energy overwhelmed them as they were trying to hold it for as long as they possibly could

‘The worthy and the bold’

Gif Taken from: https://www.quora.com/Avengers-Endgame-Why-wasnt-Tony-disintegrated-after-holding-the-stones-just-like-guardians-of-the-Galaxy-in-GOTG-vol-1

It kept repeating into their minds before a shockwave sent threw them on their backs. A cloud of shimmering dust was raised by whatever had just occurred as they called for each other.

Eventually the dust settled, they all lied on the ground looking at each other. Dean rushed to Rynvia making sure she’s alright, only to realise a halo flickered on top of her. Rynvia looked at him as he was running towards him as his movement seemed otherworldly as if he glitched. Doronin saw both as he realised sparks of lightening, or static electricity were flickering in the same manner, he turned to Leonard as he felt an uncomfortable wave of heat radiating from him, yet there was nothing to note.

“Maybe the arcane users had experienced a malfunction due to the arcane explosions” he thought.

“Wow.”

Said Leonard as he looked around him making sure everyone is alright before finally stumbling on Ylivs otherworldly appearance. He always found her clothing style creepy, possibly because of the cloak of raven feathers that occasionally seemed to somewhat animate on its own while making the dim candlelight in the room that they used to share even dimmer. But this time it was different. Her eyes constantly flickered between green and endless, pupil less purple glitter. As if the sky had found refuge within.

Yliv looked at him with a curious grimace

“Huh?”

“Your eyes” he pointed

“Um..”

“Oh shit, the stone!” he remembered as he started looking around. The statue that was previously echoing the inscription on its platform now lied on the floor, half shattered in dust and the rest partially dipped within the ground. They all searched for the stone with no luck. Instead, using his divine senses he felt a beat of divinity from each of them, including himself. Unsettling, yet warm.

Looking around them, they quickly assumed they wouldn’t be the only ones who heard the loud explosion, with whatever little was left from Rynvias miraculous water walking ability, they started rushing for the shore, away from the opening which could end up being an arena, or a tomb.

While crossing, they saw two figures heading towards the island before noticing their presence. A tall, grey haired man alongside a red haired woman started to approach them.

“Yo, Doronin” she shouted from afar.

“Shit” He thought, quickly clenching his fist and muttering an incantation silently to replicate the stone they had just lost.

Being a mistrusting bunch, they kept on their course until they reached the shore, with the two figures quickly catching up to them.

“Long time no see, comrade” She smiled as she walked towards them. She wasn’t as elegant as he had originally met her, partially bloodied and worn off. With the head of a some forest creature hanging on her side.

The rest looked at him curiously

“Who is she?”

Yliv said first

“Oh? I thought you’d mention me to them already, I’m somewhat offended.”

The man behind her seemed at a much better condition, one would doubt he had even drawn his sword during whatever encounter they had in the forest.

Rynvia, seeng she was wounded, gave her a.. Hug.

She was just as surprised being on the receiving end

“That’s some good illusion magic, I’ll give you that”

she said as she noted the flickering halo on top of her head.

Leonard looked for their newly baptised Banshee, Geltrud, with little luck.

“Before we go on, have you seen a banshee by any chance?” Leonard interrupted

“A..Banshee?” she responded while the man stayed silent.

“Yeah, we sort of promised we’d take care of a hag for her.”

The rest of the party mentally face palmed while this conversation took place.

“Met a hag, killed a hag.” she pointed towards some partially destroyed woods on the other side of the lake.

“Are you sure she was a hag?”

“It was a hag. She can give one hell of a massage” she said as she fixed her dislocated shoulder.

“Well, that makes it easier for us, I still wanted to say goodbye but I guess there’s no nee—”

“I can see you’re in a hurry so let’s make this quick, Doronin, that is Nathan, Nathan, that is Doronin.”

Nathan looked at him surprised

“I’ll be damned. So it is true” looking at him somewhat fascinated from whatever he thought he looked at.

Doronin looked in awe

“Wait..” his eyes went wide.

“I promised you information, I found the next best thing.” She said smilingly at him as she extended her wrist, he knew what she expected.

“Wait, wait” he said repeatedly.

“What are you saying? This is my..Dad?”

Nathan laughed

“I’m not your father boy. But I am an associat—”

“No more talking before you hand over the stone.”

The rest had finally began to catch up with whatever was taking place.

“The stone?” Leonard looked at Doronin.

“You didn’t tell them about being one of the good guys either? Really Doronin?” she sighed.

“You threatened me not—”

“And I thought you’d know better than that” she interrupted again.

“Oh well, that’s something you can work on later, may I have the stone, please?”

“Why would you want the stone, and who are you?” Yliv moved forward

“Oh? My name is not necessary, my mission is. The stone rightfully belongs to Ezekiel, and that is more than enough of a reason for me to acquire it.”

“Eze..Who?”

“Look, girl. We’re the good guys, you can hand over the stone as you have no need for it. In return, we will make sure everyone in the realm remains safe. Win-win, see?”

“I don’t. We are working for the good guys too.”

“Oh? And who would that be?” she said as her eyes flickered for a second as she rested her hand on the grip of her sword.

“I’d be careful with your response.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It very much does.”

While the conversation went back and forth, Rynvia silently prayed to Liira to calm the spirits.. It wasn’t a good idea. As the calming hymn sounded towards the woman she hugged, she looked down, knowing what she had just tried as she pulled her sword.

“Tell me, is that what the good guys do? Charming everyone else?”

In the meanwhile, Doronin had sneaked away and towards Nathan.

“So.. You know my dad?” he tried saying without his voice breaking.

“Yes.” Nathan looked at him with even more interest, and somewhat sadness as he was closer.

“How would I know?”

“We can arrange a rendezvous. And you can meet him. How else?” he said stoically towards him.

“Wow” he said astonished.

As the scene became more heated on the side of the party, Nathan drew his sword and took a swift slash towards the red-haired woman, severing her head.

“That just made things much easier.”

Leonard said looking at Nathan.

“It has. I am going to try and say this once, please, leave. I have business to attend with Doronin.”

Doronin looked back at him.

The rest of the party looked towards him.

“We can’t really do that.” Rynvia responded.

“This man just betrayed your trust. Are you willing to defend someone like this?”

“He’s right.” Leonard thought

“No, but he has to explain himself.”

He looked around them.

Doronin started explaining the story to the rest, while the atmosphere grew more static by the minute.

Nathan didn’t stop looking at each of them with pinches of regret.

“My dear Doronin. What you have just narrated was the story of how secrets never stay secrets unless you’re the only one that knows about them.. And I, have to be the only one who knows about what happened to you and your mother. I want you to understand, I never wanted to do this, nor do I want to do what I am about to do. But it was for the greater good. The good I and your father have done; I can’t allow it to be undone. Not for a single life. “ Nathan followed as Doronin finished his story.

He raised is open palm towards the party, as neon blue sparks flew from him towards them. It had finally occurred to Doronin, his powers were identical to Nathans, identical to the ones that Aerdrie had slowly been handing over to him from when he was struck as a new-born. The overflowing energy shook everyone to their core, most of them barely made it while Leonard stood in front, taking most of it. Doronin was overflowing with lightening, a little more barely harmed him. Yet he knew the gap between their power levels was unprecedented. While angry, he maintained his composure to think. He had to survive.

“Please.” He looked at the rest, “Leave.”

Dean had rushed towards him seeing his sister overwhelmed, taking two swings at Nathan, slightly disrupted from the eldritch energy coming his way, as well as keeping Leonard at bay in combination with Deans peculiar fighting technique he managed to tear a small wound on his otherwise stone-hardened skin. In return, Nathans sword flew out of its sheathe, while unpredictable, Deans reflexes saved him, only for it to make a 180 degree turn before stabbing him in the back. Rynvia saw this, as he kneeled and coughed blood on the ground. A bolt of divine light gathered in her palm as she shot it towards him with all her might. Nathan didn’t move, he instead stood in front of it, taking it in full force, only to barely be scratched to Rynvias surprise.

Radiant energy burst from Nathan, knocking Dean unconscious as Doronin and Leonard could hold their ground. Doronin muttered an incantation as he started growing in size, ripping apart his armor. White body hair started replacing the tears in his armor with electric blue highlights as he roared and tried to punch Nathan. It was then that Nathans wings finally spurted, lightening the blow of the giant ape before he took off the ground to gain the higher ground on them. Rynvia barely ever missed with the hammer she was given by Tristan, yet Nathan not only evaded it, but used it as a boost to fly higher.

The fight kept breaking out, yet the more blows the party missed the more they realised that their enemy was formidable. Too formidable even. Yet he was holding back. He wasn’t actively trying to kill them; he was trying to make them falter. Leonard had never sensed this scorching aura from a being before. If they did manage to take him down, it wouldn’t be without sacrifices.

Leonard kept seeing himself within Nathan, as Nathan did see himself in Leonard. They shared the same sense of duty, making absolute sacrifices for the greater good. He couldn’t fight him, not like this, not for someone who had just jeopardised their trust. He went near Yliv as he asked her to trust him and follow his lead, unknowingly of what he was about to do, she nodded. Nathan had finally found their weakness; Comradeship.

A glimmer of hope grew when one of Ylivs blasts finally landed while the ache from her hex symbol on his face had him lose his edge for a split second, only to wilt as he rushed through the party, grabbing her by the neck and scooping her off her feet. He was worn off, they all were.

“Stop.” Leonard shouted as Nathans sword had just landed in his arm as he was about to pierce through her chest.

“We don’t want to fight you anymore, you were right.”

He continued, while Nathan looked at him, somewhat confused. He could sense lies, and Leonard wasn’t lying.

He took his sword up and slashed towards Dorinin with necrotic energy overflowing from his sword.

Doronin roared in pain, even in his adrenaline-induced form as blood gashed out of his wound.

Leonard looked towards Rynvia, nodding at her, she was confused but trusted him, she knew the situation was dire, she then started taking swings. Yliv wasn’t sure what was happening, yet she held tight on her staff as she waited for the right moment the tides would turn.

Dean was appalled, but his sister had asked signalled him to follow, he couldn’t afford risking her life.

Doronin eventually started turning back to his plane touched Aasimar form, as he panted, bleeding, he muttered an incantation while coughing blood. He flipped a diamond in the air, and from the diamond came fire. Fire strong enough to match the breath of a dragon. Nathan was caught off guard, yet he stood there, taking it. His face had partially melted as he walked towards Doronin, always with regret.

“You can leave. You don’t have to see this.” he reassured the rest.

Yliv had rushed to them, she was looking at all of them, waiting for a sign.

Doronin started running towards the depths of the swamp, confused as everyone was attempting to strike him down. He couldn’t think anything else than making it out alive. Dean looked at his sister once more with doubt as he ran towards him, giving him the final blow as he cut his tendons before he passed out. Leonard followed him, as he lied in the ground, he plunged his sword in his back, blood started soaking the ground as it run towards the swamp waters. Even Nathan was caught off guard. The cool air that often surrounded his sword grew hellish hot, almost burning him as he gripped it as firmly as he could, making a final twist. He always thought the wind surrounding it was attuned to his emotions. Yet this time he wasn’t sure if that was his state of mind that was reflected in the temperature of the wind or someone elses.

“I told you, he was our problem.” Leonard continued.

“I..” “I am sorry.”

He looked at all of them and their wounds.

Yliv hadn’t partaken in this. She just stood there, her legs below her raven-feathered cloak were shaking. Her eyes had gone wide.

“I didn’t do anything to him”

She kept thinking

“I didn’t do anything for him”

The echoes were interchangeable.

Nathan headed towards the dismembered body of the red-haired woman. As he placed it over her neck and chanted a couple of words radiant energy started searing the wound.

“I wasn’t planning to kill any of you. Your courage is admired, and so is your sacrifice.”

Those were his final words before he flew above the tree line, leaving them to mourn.

The woman eventually gasped as she woke up and grabbed her sword heading towards the group standing on top of Doronin.

“You’re lucky the rest of you lot is alive after trying to take us on.”

Leonard looked at her dead serious

“Your friend cut your head off, nobody tried to take you on, now leave.”

She stared at them confused.

“I..”

“You can sense if we’re lying can’t you?”

She could. But it didn’t make sense.

“He also brought you back, if it helps.”

Her confusion only grew.

“Did he take the stone?”

“There is no fucking stone. The stone disappeared. You don’t believe us, go and take a look. Now leave us, we have a burial to take.”

“If what you say is true, then the entire Faerun will turn into a burial because of your incompetence.” She said as she walked towards the now withered tree.

They sat in silence for twenty minutes. Dean moved away from the group as he couldn’t stand the sight.

The woman eventually came back, only to ask for further details, yet nobody was willing to speak. She couldn’t blame them. She had failed, and it did not matter how, the consequences were what would matter. She sweated as she walked towards the forest frantically before they lost sight of her.

They all remained silent for the next few hours, they buried Doronin, Rynvia made the utmost preparation to pray for him in the afterlife before rushing towards where she had seen her brother last. She found him, wiping off his already clean sword.

“Why did you leave?” she said silently

“I need some time” Dean said as he avoided eye contact.

“Is this what you’ve been doing since I was gone?” he continued.

“Doronin betrayed us, it was a bad situation.”

“Is this how you justify it? Is this how you’ll treat our brother? He killed our parents.”

“That’s different.”

“No Rynvia, it’s the same. If not worse.”

“We spent a month with this guy, we spent our entire lives together with Damon.”

“A month that you could’ve all died. You fought zombies, pirates, demons, a dragon, Rynvia. A dragon.”

“Did you never think of killing our brother when he sent you in Ysgard?”

“Never. I was angry, I was mad, I died a thousand times. But it never occurred to me. I don’t wanna know what would happen if I betrayed you”

“You really wouldn’t.” she said in a serious tone before her voice broke and tears started dripping on the ground.

“When I came back, I wanted to see my sister and family. I was sad to find out what had happened, but I at least was happy to have my sister back. But now I see that it’s not the person I had known for the better part of a century. And I’m.. I’m confused.” He never made eye contact, he just kept on wiping his blade.

“I…”

“Go back with the rest, Rynvia..”

“Promise me you’ll come back.”

“I’ll try.”

She started walking back as she shouted

“I love you.”

No response echoed.

In the meanwhile, Yliv and Leonard sat around the burial site in silence. Leonard look at her shaking hands but wasn’t sure if he should try to comfort her.

“You didn’t follow my lead.” He said bothered

“I’m not sure what you expected me to do” she responded after a long interval

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure about that either.”

She had never imagined killing an innocent, let alone a comrade.

“He had betrayed us. If anyone was going to die in this it was him.”

She didn’t respond. Neither did he continue to justify what had happened.

“He redeemed himself.”

She looked back at him confused

“Do you still trust me?”

“I don’t know”

“Help me unbury him, please.”

They both started excavating the grave once more, as Rynvia was coming back she cluelessly helped whatever they were trying to do, perhaps one of them wanted to give their regards, she was too disoriented.

Eventually, Doronins cold, muddy and moist from the swamp body was finally uncovered.

A burning sensation started radiating from Leonard as a couple of withered wings spurted out and his armor turned entirely dark, aside from the grey gem that remained embedded in his skull shaped helmet. From under his helm his eyes had turned bright red as he started chanting.

Both Rynvia and Yliv were daunted from the intimidating sight yet somewhat comforted by the unexpected warmth that emanated from his grim appearance. He continued to chant for the better part of the hour, as he did, he felt the divine essence slowly going dormant and his emanating radiance fading while Doronins colour returned and Leonards sword thrust that pierced through his heart started mending, physically at least.

#Dungeons and dragons #d&d story #d&d #homebrew #5e

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sick-raven · 5 years ago

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Ghosts of the Present - Chapter 8

Chapter 1 + warnings

AO3

Previous chapter

Chapter 8

Two months ago, Miranda Bradbury survived sure death and got the ghosts that tormented her locked up again. John Constantine told her she should be safe now, nobody can take her charm away. It was one of the happiest moments of her life despite almost dying.

Seven weeks ago, her nightmares started. The dream reminded her that she can never truly win. Night after night she fell to the snow with crack in her ears. She didn’t really win against ghosts, she just took their power. Locked them in jail. But she was an example of the fact that no jail is unbreakable.

Six weeks ago, she called Constantine. “You said there are other possibilities to get rid of the echo, remember?”

“Your charm isn’t working?”

“It is. I want more.”

“Listen, love, it’s not necessary. Enjoy life.”

“I can get anything you ask for. Help me.”

Five weeks ago, Constantine realized he needs her help. He could steal the artefact himself, but he promised to never go near this cult again and he didn’t want to lose his bollocks. So, Miranda helped and forced him to think about her problem by balancing the artefact over the sea.

One month ago, she got a list and instructions, and the possible results of ritual scared the hell out of her. “Survival chance is about thirty percent,” Constantine told her. She couldn’t tell Jonathan that, he would try to stop her and freak out. Throwing herself into unnecessary danger was her own decision and she didn’t need to discuss this with anyone. “Still want to do that, love?”

“Yes.”

For last month she looked for artefacts and magic tools. She learned very fast they are dangerous. Set of needles tried to acupuncture her to wall. Blessed powder kept teleporting any time she touched it and it brought her to more and more dangerous locations. Not to mention the archive. It was a miracle she survived all the encounters. It tired her greatly and being kept up by nightmares didn’t help.

“Last chance,” Constantine said last Saturday as she sat naked in the protection circle. “Do you understand the dangers? They will be yours, but once you die, you don’t go to heaven, you don’t burn in hell, you are stick for eternity as their property. Just an echo. It’s not worth it, Bradbury, they will cut your life anytime you give an order…”

“Stop talking and do it,” she stopped him.

Jonathan Crane didn’t know any of this. When he saw Miranda kneel in front of her master, panic rose in him. The blood spurting from her hand reminded him it’s his fault. She wasn’t supposed to be here; the League wasn’t supposed to know!

Then she took her shirt off and Jonathan stopped in his steps. He had no words. Miranda’s whole body was covered in tattoos of circles and runes. Witch gathering would gladly take her in their sisterhood. Jonathan’s brain couldn’t understand what he is seeing, the marks looked wobbly, as if they were moving on her skin.

Miranda tore her charm down. “No!” shouted Jonathan and then…

Then.

Jonathan Crane got scared.

The death scream came out of Miranda’s lips. Loud, high and terrifying. Her body surrounded by shadows, intensified this scream. They rose around her like lotus petals and broke into dozens of tendrils that whipped around. Black shadows were swallowing the light, they grew longer and blossomed into more parts.

And the voices from shadows screamed with Miranda.

“Khulan! Khulan!” Different voices, men and women, with hatred and intensity. “Die, die, die!”

“Master, take us back,” said Miranda in eerie voice. She stood up, bleeding and white, contrasting with darkness rising from her body, and made a step towards Khulan hands ready as in for a hug. “Here we are, lost children came back to your embrace.”

Sword fell on the ground. Khulan gasped loudly, stumbling backwards, away from the shadows. “No! I order you to get back!”

The shadows didn’t listen. Their screams echoed, filled the chamber.

“Kill her!” Khulan ordered. The soldiers ran straight at Miranda, weapons ready.

Bloodbath.

Sharp as a knife, the tendrils cut around, killing everyone trying to get near. Incredible speed made it look like they died in an instant. Heads, limbs, blood. Piercing screams of the victims were always cut short as tendrils found whoever survived and stabbed them in the face. One after other, precise cuts, precise stabs.

Jonathan heard Jervis yelp. “Friend, let’s run!” But Jonathan couldn’t move, so Jervis abandoned the ship without him.

Khulan stumbled back as Miranda was coming closer covered in blood of the fallen. Even the soldiers soon realized their fight is useless and started to run away. Shadows grabbed at them, kept catching them and crushing, choking, throwing against walls, all that while screaming in pain and anger.

“No!” Khulan fell over dead body. “No!”

Miranda knelt in front of her. In last desperate attempt Khulan hit her, but Miranda didn’t move a muscle. She was a statue, focused on one thing only. She took master’s face to her palms. Master gasped in fear.

“We love you, master, you gave us everything.”

Miranda opened her mouth.

“Nough…” Khulan’s scream was silenced. Shadows came out of Miranda’s mouth and went deep into master’s throat. She gurgled, hands unable to move. Slowly suffocated with panicked look in her eyes.

It took forever.

It took seconds.

Khulan collapsed on the floor, her face turned in fear. It will never change again. She will never train another assassin. She will never destroy more lives and crush souls. The evil witch is dead. In the valley of bodies and vengeance, Banshee rose, laughing like a madwoman. Nobody has seen her. Everyone ran.

Except for Jonathan.

With manic look in her eyes she took a step towards him like a tiger considering its options before it chokes its prey. Jonathan couldn’t move, his limbs froze, his mind blank. Shadows danced around Banshee like branches in the wind and they silenced their screams into a hum. One more step.

“Traitor!” she screamed. The echoes reminded him several times of his guild. One more step. “You die!”

Shadows snapped at him. Like whips they bended back and stroke.

None touched. They hit the ground around him. Dust rose, blood spurted everywhere. Ghosts began to scream again.

“I hate you!” yelled ghosts. “I hate you!”

She walked to him, screaming. So close he felt her breath on his face and saw tears running paths on her bloodied cheeks.

“You bastard!” She slapped him. The pain woke him up. His brain started working again. She hit him again. Third time he caught her hand.

“Let!” she demanded hysterically.

“You damn cow!” he hissed clutching her wrist hard. “You dare to call me a traitor?”

She gasped, two shadows grabbed him by shoulders and pulled him away. Now they stood two steps away from each other walking around like wild animals.

“You sold me! You knew what they will do, and you sold me, because you are an insecure piece of shit!” she shouted.

“Have you gone insane? I can kill you myself, I don’t need Ra’s al Ghul!”

“You told them!”

“Tetch told them! I can think when I am angry, unlike you with your stupid hysterics!”

“Oh, can you?” she hissed.

“You would know if you weren’t busy fucking Constantine!”

“Does this look like fucking to you?” she raised her arms and tendrils rolled around it like snakes. “I am the master now! Not thanks to your paranoia!”

“You could have told me!”

“Fuck-all I could!”

They stopped in their steps, shaking in anger. Miranda went white as wall, blood still dripping of her hand.

“You were the one who said we should talk,” Jonathan said trying to sound calm and failing miserably.

“You are the one always jumping to conclusions.”

Jonathan rubbed his eyes. “You are right,” he stepped back. “Yeah, you are. Fuck it.”

Miranda nodded crying. “So are you.”

One of the tendrils pulled in the charm. Miranda took it. Shadows disappeared right away. Their master just collapsed on the ground, sat down shaking and crying. “I trusted you,” she bubbled.

Jonathan sighed and walked behind her. He sat down, their back leaning on each other.

“You didn’t,” he disagreed. Miranda sobbed loudly. “If you did, you wouldn’t be afraid of telling me.”

“No.”

“And you couldn’t do that, because I didn’t trust you.”

“You would fight me and tell me I am stupid. Because you fear losing me one way or the other. You always, always, always have to be right and we would just argue over it!”

Silence fell between them.

“It’s my fault,” Jonathan said.

“No, it’s mine.”

“Let’s split it 70-30.”

Miranda bubbled again in short laugh. “You didn’t tell them?”

“No. Jervis did. They just pried details out of me and it hurt. You didn’t fuck Constantine?”

“I got tattoos.”

Another short silence.

“What do we do?” Miranda asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Jonathan.

She trembled, he clenched his fists hard. There was an obvious answer in the air.

“We never really got to know each other,” he said.

“We did.”

“No, Miranda. Joking about your problems is not sharing. Playing them down like I do is neither. It’s avoiding hard things. That’s all we did, what do we really know about each other except basics you write in your CV? We keep to ourselves.”

“And we carry everything alone and we make shit decisions.”

“Yes.”

“We went too fast and got comfortable too quickly.”

“It was a sand castle, no foundation.”

“And one small wave crushed us like tsunami.”

Jonathan laughed at that idea. “You know, I think the witches were right. We really are useless.”

“They are dead, they have no word.”

“I’m sorry I caused this, Miranda.”

“We caused this. I’m sorry too.”

Jonathan stood up. He wanted to say something else, but no proper words came to him. However, he couldn’t leave voiceless, that’s what messed them up in the first place. He rubbed his eyes to shun the tears away.

“It was nice knowing you.”

“Yeah,” agreed Miranda. “It was.”

Next chapter

#batman #fanfiction #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #writeblr #ghosts of the present #sick raven writing

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alteredphoenix · 5 years ago

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First Impressions Chapter 50: The Stables Incident (WIP)(Heroes of the Storm)

A/N: So, some context in a nutshell: First Impressions is an out-of-order anthology series that has Sylvanas as the MC in a more Looney Tunes-style Nexus, a central hub where all universes converge and diverge at a singular point due to the Powers That Be that may or may not have summoned them here for purposes that are unknown to them. Except anyone that is brought to the Nexus is infected with a condition called the transition, aka the in-universe term for Out of Character; even the native-born Nexians are not exempt from this, and those that are pulled from their timeline never age, and if they should die they are very shortly brought back aka respawn.

I haven’t touched First Impressions in a long while, mainly because of work, doing WoW fics, and a lot of family drama IRL from 2018 onwards that nearly made me quit writing altogether. But I have felt the itch to get back at it again, even though Heroes of the Storm got its e-sports sector gutted and is running in a slow, lumbering maintenance mode. I’m not really sure if HotS still maintans some semblance of popularity as it did in the past year; I’ve been out of the loop for a while, although I’m sure the minor leagues and community-driven events are still ongoing.

Regardless, I’m posting this preview for archival purposes. I’m also posting it because this marks the start of the legendary Stables Incident, an event in which Sylvanas is accused of slaughtering innocent farm animals (at a place where people store their mounts for matches) out of nowhere. This chapter, however, shows what really happened (spoiler alert: Sylvanas didn’t do it, it was actually an accident, Hammer pressed the button on her tank by mistake during a squabble and, as a result, caused an intergalactic news circus over it).

I’m also posting this because: I love writing smartass-give-no-fucks!Sylvanas, and there must be more of it in the fandom.

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

The music kicked up in a roar so loud it threw Sylvanas off the bench onto the ground as though an invisible hand scooped up her from underneath and bowled her over. She awoke with a painful groan, twisting round onto her stomach to sit up on her elbows. Her ears twitched and swiveled, searching for the source of the music.

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

They flattened down against the sides of her head, shaking more from the vibrations that were causing the ground to quake, the bench to jump, and the squirrels and birds on their respective tree branches to bounce off in chattering, chirping squeaks and squawks than the force driving a jackhammer into her brain. Sylvanas looked behind her, in the direction of the auto body shop with its garage doors opened all the way.

A large, single-barreled cannon was poking its head out, connected to a red plated chassis on massive treads.

Sylvanas snarled, pushed to her feet, and stormed toward the garage.

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

“HAMMER!” Sylvanas yelled, but she could only hear the word in her head; it was like walking into a nightclub on full blast while the mother of all earthquakes, the Even Bigger One (bigger than San Andreas!), was bringing about The End Of The World As They Knew It. The tools on the walls racks and on the benches were rattling. The overhead fluorescent lights and spotlights were flickering and swinging back and forth. Darkness, even the fuel tanks way in the back were shaking in their cages! And Hammer…

Hammer was standing up out of the manhole, swaying and bumping and grinding like a turkey on antihistamines.

“HAMMER!” Sylvanas yelled again, feeling her throat work to outdo the noise. But Hammer still kept on dancing, oblivious to the world. The Banshee Queen glanced around the area. She saw a boombox from the Twenty-First Renaissance Era (which looked like a pyramidal A-track player) on a workbench...but no, nothing was coming out of it. She’d seen and heard it play before; whatever was running at the time would sound like it was being phoned in from a tin can in another municipal district from across an ocean. Then her eyes flicked behind the tank where, some distance away, were the ‘administrative’ offices that were reserved for quiet paperwork, faxing, phone calls, Internet, and maybe a few Jet Briggs’ beer and Easy Green joints were drunk and rolled in private enlightenment (that definition seemed to wax and wane over the years, apparently, but it usually ranged from a blissful stoner’s high to confusion and then to an agoraphobic fear of unseen, probably imaginative eldritch horrors that ranged between pink elephants, hyperrealistic eyes on the walls, and crab people with the heads of famous celebrities dead, alive, and not yet born crawling all over the place). Her eyes went to the ceiling where the speakers were located...but they shook as well, and offered no indication to her addled ears that the music was coming from them.

That left only one other place. “HAMMER, TURN THAT DOWN!”

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!” were the words Sylvanas could read from Hammer’s lips. “WHAT! WHAT! Doo doo-doo doo doo! Nuh-nuh-nuh! Doo doo-doo doo doo, doo-doo-doo--”

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT!”

Sylvanas clenched her fists, her body shaking in time with the music. She mimicked taking a breath, reared back, and, calling upon the dark magic inside her, focused the font of power to nestle in her lungs and up her throat. Then she leaned forward and screamed. “HAAAAAMEEEERRRRR! TURN THAT THING OFF!”

The last syllable finally knocked Hammer out of her dance-induced stupor, blowing her back (and, Sylvanas thought morosely, not ass over tea kettle off the tank) from the amplified force. She caught herself, looked around, and saw the Banshee Queen glaring death and mayhem below her. “AW SNAP! SORRY, SORRY! EH, UH, G-GIVE ME ONE SEC! HOLD ON! WHERE’S THAT DAMN...AHA!” She doubled over, rooting around for the stereo, and when she found it turned it off.

Sylvanas had never found complete, total silence to be such an aether-given blessing until today. Like nirvana for mind, body, and soul. The quintessential out-of-body experience where one became attuned to nature and all that is not industrial.

Until I leave and she starts up again, she concluded. “You’re welcome,” Sylvanas drawled sardonically.

“Girl, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even know you were down there!” said Hammer. “Y-You weren’t waitin’ long, were ya?”

“I was waiting for an hour.”

Hammer clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Holy shit! Damn, girl, I’m really sorry--”

“Yeah, you should be. I actually just got here.”

“Eh? What? Really?”

“Yes, really!” Sylvanas said. “I was having a nice, simple rest on the bench outside and your stupid music woke me up! I swear to Darkness, woman, are you trying to move the Anchors out of position? Do you want to get us all killed?”

“N-Nah, girl, not at all! It’s just”--and Hammer flailed--”It’s such a nice day out, ya know? And it’s Sunday, which means all the auto shops are closed. An’ that also means I can work to mah heart’s content! No disruptions! No phone calls! No Kaijo suddenly tearing through the fabric of the space-time continuum! I can actually get stuff on time now, and at my own pace!”

“So I guess if I brought a motorcycle in, I’ll be expecting it by next spring as a belated Winter Veil present.”

“What? No! Girl, I ain’t that slow!”

“A tortoise, a snail, and a sloth could compete against you and they’d still win the race.”

“Hell no they wouldn’t! I have a tank, they don’t. I would just run ‘em over!”

Sylvanas rolled her eyes. “You are such a humanitarian it makes my heart bleed.”

“Well that’s what they’d get for messin’ with a siege tank!”

“You do realize there’s a noise ordnance of seventy-five feet, right?”

Hammer grinned wolfishly. “Ain’t no such thing as a noise ordnance if there’s no one around to complain about it.”

“Except for me,” said Sylvanas.

“Are ya really gonna tell on me?”

“No, but I’ll have ten reasons to tell you where to go if you do that again.”

“Ten reasons?” Hammer quirked a brow.. “What are they?”

“I punch you in the face with my left fist and then punch you with my right fist. If I add onto that, I’ll have ninety-nine reasons and a headbutt to make you quiet. Let’s also not forget I can just kick when you’re down, and by that point I’ll have lost count.”

“That’s a helluva lot of reasons to have...and money! Lots of money to pay for medical bills!”

“I can think of ways to accrue the cash and avoid jail time. You think this lackadaisical government can stop me?”

“Well,” Hammer said, digging a pinkie finger into her ear, “they are a little slow on the uptake. They ain’t exactly unnatural like we are. They’re more...what’s the word...normal.”

“You’re far from normal,” Sylvanas muttered.

“Eh? What?” Hammer asked.

“I said, what the hell are you working on that’s made you put the music on full blast?” Sylvanas lied smoothly. “What about it is so important you haven’t had the cops called on you yet?”

Hammer laughed uproariously. “This? This! My good friend! Is the latest in Jeetilopolis technological warfare!”

Sylvanas appraised it with a slow, long sweep of her eyes. “A single shot cannon?”

“Not just any single shot cannon! It’s a single shot cannon bought straight from the auction block all the way in Jeetilopolis! I spent just about my entire checking account on getting this thing, and spent almost the entirety of my savings on shipping and handling!”

“You can’t be that stupid.”

“What people think is stupid is actually smart! Besides, how’s a woman gonna get by in life if she can’t dip a little?”

“Hammer, spending every copper, silver, and gold on a cannon that is more than likely going to be faulty is not dipping a little. That’s jumping headfirst out of a plane without a parachute and hoping you time your angle just right so you can land in a lake that’ll be deep enough to sustain your impact and not kill you on the spot.”

“And when I hit rock bottom, will it be filled with gold?”

“Whatever it is, I won’t be joining you to find out.”

Hammer made an annoyed sound by blowing her lips. “Aw, c’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Maybe for you, but I have no intentions of going into bankruptcy.”

“That ain’t gonna happen! You know why?”

“No,” Sylvanas drawled dryly. “Tell me why.”

“Because there was one other thing I got while I was in Jeetilopolis. One little thing that’ll give this baby here one helluva big wallop that’ll scare the bejeesus out o’ people! You wanna know what that is?”

“Not really.”

“Guess!”

Sylvanas sighed. “Do I have to--”

“Yeah! Come on! Take a guess!”

“Fine. Let me think.” Sylvanas feigned contemplation, making a show of looking away and tapping her chin. Then she snapped her fingers. “I got it. A brain.”

“Nuh-uh! Already have one,” said Hammer, and rapped her fists on her helmet for emphasis.

“Two brains.”

“No!”

“Three.”

“Now what am I supposed ta do with that many brains, eh? Play tsukkome and bokke with one while the other plays the straight man...brain...thing? Actually, on second thought,” Hammer added, thoughtfully, “I could probably palaver with them and get some pretty neat ideas for the tank. Yeah.” She nodded approval. “Yeah, that ain’t such a bad idea! But, uh, that ain’t what’s in this thing! It’s somethin’ better than a brain!”

“And that would be…?”

“Aether,” Hammer breathed. “I got me some gods be damned aether in a bottle for fifteen thousand gold! That’s cheap!”

Sylvanas gave her a blank stare, then nodded complete and total understanding. “Okay. So you get blitzed off the life-energy of the universe. It all makes sense now.”

“Did you just call me stupid?”

“No.” Sylvanas shook her head slowly, and drawled dryly, “No. Why would I ever say that?”

“’Cause this ain’t just the life energy of the universe!” Hammer slapped a hand down hard on the base of the manhole. “This is the answer to all my problems! This baby right here can store so much oomph in here...why, I think I might have just become a god!”

“Aether-based weaponry is banned from the League.”

Hammer grinned wickedly. “Not if they don’t find out! All’s I have to do is get the energy output tuned to its usual optimized settings and those old bats and goats in the Houses will be none the wiser! Ahahahahahaha! I’m a genius, Sylvanas!” she cried, throwing her arms up in the air. “A bonafide, grade-A genius!”

“Joy to the world, God is good,” Sylvanas grumbled, shaking her head.

“Hey, I’m thinkin’ of taking the tank out for a test firin’ out in the Shadowskirts in a bit; don’t want the authorities to catch wind of this! You wanna check ‘er out before I go?”

Sylvanas shrugged. “Why not. Not like I have anything better to do.”

#heroes of the storm #first impressions #sylvanas windrunner #fanfiction #preview #mywriting

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offbrand-valk · 6 years ago

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So uhm, that post about Sylvanas having a wife and daughter gave me some feelings™, and now I’ve turned those feelings into an angsty fic, which i have no idea how to continue from.

Read on AO3

There was a bright light, followed by an icy numbness spreading from her fingers to her heart. Then a terrible realization struck Delaryn.

"You brought me back!" She both screamed and sobbed.

She still couldn't see anything but bright light, but somehow she just knew the dark lady was standing right next to her, watching her silently.

"I did." Sylvanas said frankly, after what felt like an eternity of painful silence.

Delaryn screamed in agony and launched herself towards the voice, only to find herself restrained by heavy chains. She tried again, and felt the metal dig painfully into her flesh, her cold, unliving flesh. After her third attempt, she admitted defeat and whimpered. "why?"

"Because I don't waste talent." The dark lady said, again in that neutral tone that both scared and enraged Delaryn.

"I'll never serve you!" She said through gritted.

"I've heard that before." Sylvanas said with a mocking chortle, and Delaryn immediately started to worry that she was going to be proven wrong.

Her sight returned just in time to see a heavy coffin lid being placed on top of her.

Delaryn was going to fall in line, Sylvanas would make it so. a few days of sensory deprivation wouldn't do it, but it might leave her raw enough that next time they spoke, Sylvanas would know whether to use carrot or stick.

For now she could indulge herself in a bit of rest and contemplation while Saurfang oversaw the cleanup. In fact it wasn't a question of could, she had lost her temper and endangered the future of the Horde as a result. She could not afford another mistake like that, and she needed to be clearheaded as soon as the Alliance reacted.

So she returned to her tent, closed the flap and looked inwards, trying to find some clarity and wisdom.

Her mind, traitor that it was, took her back to a farm two hours walk from Silvermoon.

For once in what felt like a lifetime, the rain was gently pouring down over Eversong woods. Sylvanas had dragged her unit through a grueling three day long field exercise, she ached all over, was still wearing a mud and sweat stained uniform, and couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest because she was coming home.

The farm looked like itself, a little rickety, a little dirty, and the hole she had been promising to fix for years hadn't gone anywhere.

Sylvanas stood in the rain for a few seconds, soaking the harmony of it all in, almost as if she knew it would all someday be taken away from her. She knocked twice, right in the center of the door, like she had done every time before, and would continue doing until the farm was torn down.

The door opened exactly following the second knock, making Sylvanas suspect the inhabitant had been waiting behind the door to hear her knock.

The woman had long, flat black hair, a narrow nose, and the most beautiful eyes Sylvanas would ever see in her life. In her hands the woman held an infant on the edge of sleep. "She refused to take a nap until you came home." The woman explained.

The infant girl reached a small hand out towards sylvanas, who in turn reached a single finger out for her to hold unto. "Well I'm home now, so it's high time for your nap, Liera." Sylvanas said and kissed her daughter's forehead. Liera cooed and blabbered happily for a few seconds while she held her mama's finger in her tiny hand, then she fell asleep and drooled on her mom's dress.

"Has she been giving you a hard time while I was away beloved?" Sylvanas said, kissing her wife, and taking their daughter in her own arms in a single swoop.

"Not more so than usual, and unlike certain other elves I know she sees the merit of regular bathing." Her wife teased, letting Sylvanas inside her house.

"Velline Sharpvale, had I not known better, one might accuse you of making a mockery of a commander of the ranger corps, and a noble of house Windrunner no less." Sylvanas fired back, making sure to keep her voice low so as to not wake their daughter up.

"That's just how life is out here in rural country Lady Windrunner, now hand over the child and strip, you smell like an orcish barrack." Sylvanas was tempted to ask what a farm girl who had never been more than half a day's ride from her homestead knew about orcish barracks, but decided to instead simply do as instructed. Her decision might have been spurred on by the smell of her wife's cooking coming from the kitchen.

Sylvanas never did manage to bathe that night. Once they had put Liera to bed, dinner was almost ready, so they might as well sit on the porch and wait for it to finish.

After dinner they automatically moved back on the porch with two cups of mulled wine, and listened to the rain.

Next thing they knew, Liera was up and demanding to be fed and entertained.

One thing kept leading to another, until suddenly the family of three were cuddled together in bed, with Sylvanas reading aloud from The Silvermoon Town Musicians. "The distraught highwayman returned to his captain and told him what he'd seen". Sylvanas paused dramatically, and continued in a silly, overly coarse voice. "There's a banshee in the house captain! As I entered she spat and scratched my face with her long nails. When I tried to run an assassin stabbed me in the leg, and in the stables an ogre was waiting to clobber me! All the while the ranger general sat on the roof screaming: stop the thief! stop the thief!" She made sure to imitate a rooster as best she could for the final part, making both Velline and Liera burst out laughing.

Sylvanas was brutally ripped from her memories by the voice of Nathanos Blightcaller. "Warchief."

There was a clear sign of embarrassment in his tone, so whatever it was, it wasn't the alliance counterattack, but something he should be able to take care of on his own. "What?" She sneered.

"There has been a complication in the sacking of Teldrassil." If this turned out to be grunts arguing over who saw a knife first, or a salvage ship running behind schedule, she swore she was going to strangle Nathanos with his own intestinal cord.

"well?" She said standing up from her position on the floor and slinging her bow over her shoulder.

"There is a girl warchief, a night elf girl." Sylvanas was going to need to think of something more painful than getting strangled with one's own intestines for Nathanos.

"So? Put her on a prison ship to Orgrimmar with the other survivors, or cut her loose and let nature take its course. I don't much care one way or the other, just get her off Teldrassil." Every time she thought those beneath her had reached peak idiocy, they found a new way to disappoint her.

"That's the problem warchief, she has a knife and is refusing to move." Sylvanas swore under her breath and accepted this was just going to be a thing she would have to deal with personally.

The girl had holed up in the smoldering remains of a hollow root with some rations and a couple of paintings, and was waving the knife at anyone who got close.

Sylvanas could tell the girl didn't know how to wield her weapon, and nothing would have been easier than simply knocking it from her hand and overpowering her. For reasons she didn't understand herself however, she didn't.

Instead she moved slowly forward with her open palms outstretched, and asking for her name in broken Darnassian. When the girl didn't even acknowledge her presence, she tried again, and on the 3rd try she finally got the girl to whisper out "Netha Fairsong."

"Netha listen to me, this is not a fight you can win, put down the knife, and we can find a way to solve this without anymore bloodshed." Where her sudden gentleness had come from, Sylvanas didn't know, but it was clearly working, so she decided not to look a gift wolf in the mouth.

Slowly, Netha lowered her weapon and placed it on the ground. Some of Sylvanas' soldiers moved forward to seize her, but were stopped in their tracks by Sylvanas' outstretched arm. "So let's negotiate the terms of your surrender." She said twice, first in Darnassian, then in Orcish so that no one would think she was acting outside the horde's best interesses.

That was when the girl did something unexpected...

She ran forward and hugged Sylvanas!

#Sylvanas Windrunner #world of warcraft #warcraft #fanfic #my writing

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lydisms · 6 years ago

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fight song || Riley and Lydia

Summary: Two banshees are stronger than one. Lydia and Riley finally come face to face with Death while they're together, and they prove they’re a force to be reckoned with. Trigger warnings: death mention, violence, abuse. Tagging: @rileylyon

Lydia: Since Stiles was working that meant Lydia had to spend the day dealing with the realtor by herself. It seemed to drag on and once she was finished with countless meetings and open houses, the only thing she wanted was to get back to Stiles. The strawberry blonde was driving way past the speed limit as she stopped at a red light and sighed. Her attention turned towards the wooded area next to her just briefly when something caught her eye. Lydia was almost positive she’d seen a person. She narrowed her eyes and sure enough, Death was standing at the edge of the preserve. Lydia almost kept driving. She wanted to desperately but she knew Death was there because he wanted to talk to her. She was afraid what he’d do if she didn’t get out of the car. Reluctantly, Lydia pulled her vehicle over and walked towards him. She nearly flinched when he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “I missed you.” Just the words made Lydia sick to her stomach. “And I feel bad about our last meeting.” Of course he was talking about when he killed her mother. “So I brought you a present. Come.” Death grabbed Lydia’s hand and forcefully pulled her towards the woods as they headed for a cabin. The same cabin he’d killed her mother in. Lydia felt like she was going to pass out but nothing compared to the feeling she had when she entered the cabin and saw Riley chained up.

Riley: Riley had been walking home from the library when it happened. There was a sort of chill in the air, enough to have her clutching the books she'd gotten out a little closer to her chest. After the incident with Talia and the car wreck, she felt like she needed answers more than ever. Each book gave her a more outlandish theory on what was wrong with her than the last but she wasn't sure she could dismiss anything at this point. After all, it's Beacon Hills. The man had come out of nowhere. Something about him made her feel cold, and clammy. It made her throat tighten. "Excuse-" Riley tried to brush by him but he grabbed her bicep, making her swallow the words with an incredulous look. "Hello little banshee." He'd purred at her. She didn't even have time for her eyes to widen, let alone to scream before he struck her over the head with whatever had been in his other hand. The blonde's body hit the ground immediately. Days, hours, or minutes could have gone by and Riley wouldn't have known. She didn't 'wake up' so much as become aware of a throbbing in her head, and something wet on her forehead. Her eyes snapped open when she realized that she couldn't move her hands, and horror grew in the pit of her stomach when she saw the old shackles around her wrists. It looked like the man had left her in some sort of cabin, and just gone. Riley'd certainly seen enough episodes of criminal minds to know she needed to get the fuck out as soon as possible, particularly if he was coming back soon, but a few hours of rubbing her wrists until they were raw and bleeding proved that idea easier said than done. Her hands shook, and everything seemed out of focus. A dark heavy feeling was weighing on her body and her mind, and she just wanted to scream. She nearly did, abandoning her sneaky escape plan in the hopes that someone might hear her shouts, but then the door handle began to turn. Riley yanked the chains again in vain, looking up to give the stranger a scathing greeting when she saw Lydia standing there. "Lydia?" She asked, tears pricking in the corner of her eyes. "Lydia what's going on?"

Lydia: Lydia couldn’t seem to take her focus off Riley. She was having flashbacks from the night her, Stiles, and her mother had all been chained up in the very same cabin. That night ended with Lydia losing her mother and a piece of herself that she’d never get back. It was impossible being in that same room again, and adding the fact that she was now possibly about to lose another person she’d grown to care about made this nearly impossible. Lydia shut her eyes tightly for a brief moment and prayed to whatever God was out there that this was a nightmare. Unfortunately the cold touch of Death’s hand cupping her cheek was enough to let Lydia know that this was very, very real. She tried not to flinch or show any signs of weakness when he touched her and she swallowed the lump in her throat before something snapped inside of Lydia. She spit directly at him which earned her a slap in the face from Death but she didn’t care. It felt good to finally at least do something to this monster. “R-Riley.” Lydia mumbled quickly, the seconds feelings like hours. “I’m so sorry. You’re going to be okay. I promise I’ll get you out of here.” She couldn’t save her mother that night, but she was going to save Riley. She had to. “Not so fast, Lydia. This girl is a present to you. It’s my apology for what happened to your mother. Now you won’t have any competition. I’ll get rid of her for you and there will be one banshee in Beacon Hills. Well, at least one functioning banshee.” The dig at Meredith made Lydia glare at him, and she wasn’t even really processing the fact that he said Riley was a banshee. All Lydia cared about was getting the girl out. “I only want one banshee here. One beautiful, perfect banshee. There’s no room for a second one.” Lydia ignored what Death was saying and how creepy it was, and how disgusting his hands felt every time he tried to touch her. She pushed past him to get to Riley, desperately trying to break her out of the chains. There was no escape though, and as usual Death had control over her powers. There was really only one way to get Riley out. “Please don’t hurt her. Please.. let her go.” Pleading wasn’t something Lydia did often but these were desperate times. “I’ll do anything. I can stay with you if you want just..” Lydia’s eyes filled with tears at the thought of having to lose another person she really cared about. How she couldn’t help but feel like Riley was in this situation because of her. “Just don’t hurt her.”

Riley: Riley's eyes darted between the man and Lydia, her mind racing. It didn't take much to make the cognitive leap- this was one of the horsemen. And based on Lydia's reaction to him and the disturbing way he was touching her, it was probably Death. The blonde steeled herself. Knowing that Death himself was the one who put her in this cabin wasn't exactly the answer she'd been hoping for, but it was better than not knowing who it was at all. She jerked, rattling the chains, when he hit her, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't run to Lydia's side. "Don't TOUCH her!" Riley shouted, pulling against the metal even as it dug into her wrists again. When it became clear yet again that she wasn't going to be able to get the chains off with pure force of will, she settled for glaring. Every word that came out of his mouth made her frown deepen, and she stopped short when he called her that word again. Banshee. It wasn't the first time she'd stumbled across it, but it seemed a little too insane to be true, that she could be anything but human. "Lydia, no!" Riley shook her head vehemently. "There's no way in HELL that you're staying anywhere near him!" She strained against the chains again, putting all of her weight into it with a fierce desperation that hadn't been there before. The idea of Lydia- amazing, warm, loving, bright Lydia stuck with this man... Riley wouldn't consider it. Ever. "Don't you dare."

Lydia: Lydia wasn’t paying any attention to Death which she was sure drove the man crazy. Everything he did was for attention, almost as though he literally thrived off of it. Lydia didn’t care, though. Her only concern was Riley in that moment and all of her focus was on the blonde. “It’s okay, Riley. I promise. I can’t let anything happen to you.” Lydia would rather go with Death than have something terrible happen to Riley. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself. Riley didn’t deserve to be in this situation. This girl had brought so much life into Lydia’s life since they’d initially met and now it felt like Lydia was just bringing darkness in return. She hadn’t intended to get Riley involved in this. It didn’t matter if Riley was a banshee, Lydia still felt responsible. “Just tell Stiles I’m sorry and that I love him, okay? That I’ll find a way to come back. Tell..” Lydia was cut off when Death started to speak again, clearly angry about what was going on. “I haven’t killed in so long, Lydia. Not since your mother. And you staying with me doesn’t change the fact that I dislike this girl.” He went closer towards Riley and on instinct Lydia tried to shove him away. He may have control over her scream but he couldn’t stop her from trying to fight. Lydia kicked his foot out from under him but suddenly Lydia was being hit again in retaliation, this time knocking her to the ground. He went closer towards Riley and Lydia was growing more livid by the second. “How about I kill her anyway and you still stay with me? It’s a win win situation. For me, at least.” Lydia gritted through her feet, the idea of Riley dying was filling Lydia with a rage that she had never felt before. The more Lydia thought about how she was going to lose another person that she’d grown to love, the angrier Lydia had become. Her anger was directed at Death in particular. He had ruined her, ruined her entire life and Lydia couldn’t keep allowing him to win like this. Suddenly the ground was shaking slightly, the lights flickering as Death fell to his knees in a sudden surge of pain. Lydia still couldn’t get a hold of her scream but she was drawing closer to it, she could feel the strength coming back.

Riley: "Lydia. No way, there is no way you're going to be allowed to do this." Riley was incredibly frustrated, so angry that she had no idea what was happening and that everything was so dire. "There's no telling people you love them! That's such bullshit! You tell him, I don't want to!" Riley's voice cracked. She couldn't lose someone else. She couldn't do it. It was too much, too soon. The blonde pushed herself backwards as far as she could, glaring at Death with the most vitriol she could muster. It felt so odd, being near Death, and the sort of darkness hovering around her. She wanted to help Lydia but wasn't sure how. Clearly something was happening, maybe an earth quake, or more likely... Something a little stranger. She wanted to reach for the other girl, to be closer to the person who felt so familiar. The darkness in them felt the same. Maybe now she understood why. "You can't hurt either of us." She growled. "You can't, you won't."

Lydia: Watching Death grimace in pain, it occurred to Lydia for the first time that perhaps her strength was coming from Riley. She was angry at the man, sure. Lydia had been angry at him plenty of times before, though. He always had a hold on her powers but now she seemed to find that spark to push through. Riley being a banshee might’ve been the missing link that Lydia needed- the extra push to finally overpower him. It was what she’d been waiting for all along and Lydia could not let this opportunity go to waste. “Riley..” Lydia mumbled, turning to face the girl. She was a bit exhausted from the push of her powers and Lydia knew she needed to speak quickly. The more time she stopped using her powers, the more likely it was for Death to regain control. “Look at me, alright? Concentrate and trust me.” She saw him get up out of the corner of her eye and start walking towards her. Lydia pushes past him to grab onto Riley’s hand tightly. “I need you to scream, Riley. It might feel weird at first and it might even hurt-“ Lydia was cut off by Death grabbing at her, desperately trying to take her away from Riley. He looked scared, maybe vulnerable. Lydia was sure he knew that his time might be coming to an end soon. Riley and Lydia seemed to be a dangerous combination if she could just tell Riley what to do. But Death was regaining control as a rush of pain ran through Lydia’s body. She cringed, her face contorting in agony. But his hands on her was even worse than any sort of pain.. even more traumatizing. Lydia kicked her leg upwards to hit him in the chest and keep him away for another moment. The window of time she needed. “Scream and concentrate, okay? Just..” Lydia shut her eyes tightly and tried to use whatever newfound witch powers Nate had given her to break the chains off of Riley. Thankfully Lydia had done it quickly. “Use your hands when you scream.. push towards him, alright? You’ll know what to do.” She had faith that once Riley started she would just be able to feel what came next, and follow Lydia’s lead. “On my count. 1..2..” Death was charging at the girls once again and Lydia took a deep breath before nodding at Riley, letting her know she needed to do it now.

Riley: Riley strained against the chains to get as close to Lydia as she could, ignoring the metal biting into the already raw skin of her wrists. Her eyes darted to Death, who actually looked like he was thrown off for once, which sparked something fierce in her. Maybe it was just her lack of interactions with any of the horsemen, but she'd gladly take some fool's confidence here. She believed it, that her and Lydia would beat Death, would beat anything, and there was no way he could keep them in this cabin. When he touched Lydia, the blonde was furious, and that dark feeling pushed through her veins just behind the anger, that power she hadn't been able to put a name to before pushing up through her torso and sticking in her throat. She trusted Lydia with everything she had, and she knew that she'd do anything to save her right now, even if that meant doing things she didn’t even know were possible ten seconds ago. When the shackles broke, Riley leapt to her feet, standing beside the strawberry blonde. She raised her hands, opened her mouth, and let loose a blood curling scream. For a second, it drowned everything out, and pain erupted in Riley’s head and her throat. She could feel the ground beneath her feet shaking, but everything was too loud- but suddenly it wasn’t. It was like her scream was helping her, not fighting her. That realization was distracting enough that she nearly forgot that she was supposed to be directing it, but Death let out a shout of his own that drew her attention back where it needed to be. "NO!" He roared, throwing himself towards the two banshees. Riley thrust her hands forwards, letting the power that she’d been pushing away since her dad died burst free. The twisted man's hand clawed at them as he was propelled backwards into the wall of the cabin. Riley almost fell to the ground as her scream finally finished, gasping for air.

Lydia: Lydia had never felt such a rush of power before. The last time she even came close to feeling so powerful was when her and Nate used to combine powers and work together. This seemed similar but even more intense, which Lydia figured was because Riley was another banshee and not a necromancer. Suddenly everything seemed to click inside of her head all at once- their instant connection probably had something to do with them being the same. They were drawn to each other in more ways than Lydia had originally imagined. And now she was also even more thankful for it as she used the strength of Riley to find her own and push out a loud wail in the direction of Death. She channeled all of her fury at the man in that one scream. Flashbacks of the night he murdered Nate and her mother ran through Lydia’s mind, and then she thought about what he’d said about Riley. How he wanted to kill someone so full of light and happiness inside. She would not let him win again and take someone that she cared about. That fire combined with Riley’s was enough to send Death flying backwards- something Lydia had never witnessed before. When they were both done screaming, Death laid still on the ground beneath them. He was actually beneath Lydia, for the first time in months. She’d found an edge on him and she found it in Riley. And it felt damn good. “You’re going to lose. We'll keep getting stronger.” Lydia mumbled to Death, reaching for Riley’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. For the first time, she finally felt as though they had an advantage.

Riley: Riley felt a wave of strength hit her as she immediately recognized Lydia's words as true. They would keep getting stronger. She looked at what they had done, literally MOVED DEATH, with the force of their voices, and that was with Riley having basically no clue what was happening. All of this was new to the blonde, but she found herself thinking that given a little time, there wouldn't be much that could stand in their way. She squeezed Lydia's hand back, a small smile on her lips. "We'll win." She agreed, her voice spent, but unwavering. Death was laying there on the floorboards, looking like he was at a loss. Together, they had put him there. She wasn't sure that he was truly afraid of them yet, but Riley knew that if he wasn't, he should be.

Lydia: Standing over Death while he was one the ground and being able to walk away unscathed (with the exception of the inevitable trauma that he'd given Lydia) made the banshee feel so powerful. It was almost as though she'd gained some control back that she'd lost over the last year. It wasn't completely in her grasp just yet but Lydia could see that control coming into reach again and that felt good. With Riley, Lydia felt unstoppable- if only for a brief moment. She was able to walk out of the cabin with her head held high, which was so different from the last time she'd left that cabin. When her mother died, Lydia walked out of there feeling like her life was completely over and she'd never be the same again. This was hopeful. "Riley that was.." Lydia shook her head, trying to find the right words but she couldn't. She quickly thought about the fact that she put Riley in such a traumatizing situation and Lydia's happiness faded quickly. Her walls went up and she couldn't even look at the girl. "I'm glad you're okay." Lydia finally said. "You are okay.. right?" She scanned the girl quickly for any visible injuries. When Lydia asked if Riley was okay, she really meant physically. She knew that facing Death- even if they'd won- left some scary scars emotionally. "I'll take you home, alright?"

Riley: Riley a huge rush as she walked out of the cabin, partially because of the incredible thing her and Lydia had just done, and probably a little because she was going into some kind of shock but shock is for losers and not people who can throw other people with their minds. Her hands were shaking, but she was smiling. "I'm definitely okay. Thanks to you." Riley knew that she'd have some bruises the next day, and the cut on her forehead from Death's unceremonious abduction would take a while to disappear completely but none of that was even close to being on Riley's radar. "Are you okay? You're okay, oh my god right?" She mostly babbled to herself, scanning over Lydia for anything she could see. Lydia's change in demeanor didn't quite slip past her, but Riley was willing to leave it be for a moment, just relieved that they were both safe. She squeezed the other girl's arm gently. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you. Thank you."

#chatzy #riley #rileylyon #bad at titles but yah

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akitalepu · 7 years ago

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Some Things Stay the Same (2/2)

Note: This takes place during and right after the bonus scene in Black Panther. This is not a romantic Bucky/Shuri fic.

...

Previously:

Nothing...just, uh, the way you boss the King around. Reminds me of my little sister. Nice to know some things stay the same, is all.” Bucky murmured quietly, staring at his tea.

The princess of Wakanda shifted in her seat, facing the young soldier with very old eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Will you tell me about her?”

Now:

Bucky’s grip tightened on the delicate teacup and his eyes dropped from Princess Shuri’s steady brown gaze.

“You needn’t if it is too difficult—but it may help with the memory recovery process.” she murmured kindly.

Bucky set his teacup down and scrubbed his hand through his face, pushing strands of dark hair away.

“It’s not difficult...to remember her. But we didn’t part on great terms.” He muttered. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

Shuri took a slow sip of ajiri tea and grinned. “The beginning is usually the best place.” Despite himself, Bucky rolled his eyes and a smile slowly crept over his face. Shuri’s eyes danced with mischief as the Winter Soldier melted away and Bucky emerged, his dark blue eyes far away, recalling memories from the early 1900s.

“Well, she was a lot like you, actually. We were close as kids. She was three years younger than me, and stubborn as a mule. Her named was Rebecca. Rebecca Ida Barnes. Everyone called her Becky. Always following me around, bossing me around. Highly competitive—Beck would learn games and then when she lost she’d throw a fit and make up her own rules.” Bucky snickered.

“One time, when my dad was at work, the power went out in a storm. We built a fort out of dry laundry and lit about a dozen candles—I know, I know, but this was a different time—and played cards for hours. Whenever Becky lost she’d blow out all the candles, steal the matches and lock herself in the closet, refusing to come out until I forfeited my winnings which were usually,” Bucky grinned, remembering. “Old peanuts. Dad came home to find us completely in the dark, huddled under the laundry with peanut shells cracked all over the place. He made us sweep up all the crushed shells.”

Shuri shook her head, chuckling, “And where was your mother during all this? Did she scold you, too?”

His grin faded and he grew quiet again. “My mom, she ah, she...passed away two years before that. I was 8. Cancer came quick.”

Shuri kicked herself mentally. Why was she constantly putting her foot in her mouth around this man?! “I’m very sorry, Sergeant Barnes. I can’t imagine losing a parent that early in life.” She murmured softly.

Bucky dipped his head in acknowledgment, long hair covering hooded eyes that were suddenly blurry with hot tears. “Thanks, she was quite a lady, you know? My mom was an immigrant when she came to America.

Her named was Winifred, but everyone called her Winnie. She settled in Hell’s Kitchen with friends first, then moved to Brooklyn when she married my dad.

My ma came from a small village in Ireland. Most everybody there, in that village, was poor and farmed for their livelihood. They all spoke Gaelic first, English second. Ma had a real heavy brogue when she came over. My dad always said he didn’t understand a single thing she said in their first conversation, but he didn’t care because she was so beautiful and kind.” Bucky smiled fondly, remembering many family dinners when his dad had retold the story to he and his little sister. Becky and Bucky would make retching noises as their parents kissed at the end of the familiar story, making moon eyes at each other.

“How did your parents meet?” Shuri asked curiously. “I take it he was not Irish then?”

Bucky snorted. “No, my father was from a well-to-do English family who didn’t care much for religion. My father’s family didn’t approve of him marrying a poor Irish farmgirl with a limited education and devout Catholic beliefs. My dad converted to Catholicism before they married and cut off most ties, except with his sister Ida. My aunt Ida was great. Becky’s middle name came from her. She raised us after my dad died a few years later.”

He continued, “My mom and dad met at the dry cleaner where she worked. He came in to collect his shirts before going to an interview later that day. Mom always said this was an accident, Dad said it was on purpose. She was ringing him up at the register when she knocked over a small pile of change. They both bent down to pick it up at the same time, and knocked heads. Well, my dad’s nose started bleeding a lot from the impact and she was apologizing profusely and also happened to knock over a flower vase as she was apologizing. So, my dad’s nose is bleeding, my mom’s frantically trying to dry his shirts of flower water with a few tissues and apologizing in a mix of Gaelic and English. When my mom noticed how much blood there was, she went white as a sheet and fainted.”

At this point, Shuri was crying silently with laughter. “However did your father ask your mother on a date when he’d made the poor woman faint?!”

He laughed aloud. “Well, he called an ambulance and they ended up in the hospital next to each other. When my mother woke up, she was disoriented and was confused as to why a man in a fancy suit with a bloody nose was trying to shake her awake to apologize—so she started screaming like a banshee and cursing him in Gaelic.”

“Once she calmed down and realized what was happening, they both apologized to each other. It took him two months to work up the courage and go back to the dry cleaner’s to ask her on a date.” Bucky smiled fondly.

“Becky was a lot like her. Smart as a whip, but kind, too. One time, she caught some guys in the neighborhood kicking a homeless guy. Without even thinking, Becky ran full-throttle down the street and began beating the ever-living daylights outta guys six inches taller than her. She was all of 15, then. I think they were more startled by the tiny girl screaming Gaelic curses at them, but they never bothered that guy again.

She even helped Steve out of some scrapes even though Dad, Ida and I forbade her to. Becky never listened.

She never outgrew her competitive edge. Beck was always the first in everything. She learned how to ride her bike before me, how to drive before me—hell, how to drink before me, too. My sister was the top of her class and the first woman in our family to attend college.” Bucky smiled proudly. “Next to Steve, she was my best friend. And the only one to call me James, even if it was only when she was angry with me.” He smiled a little at the memory. Becky was a whirlwind, quick to action and judgment and unrelenting in voicing her opinions. Bucky privately thought she would’ve gotten along great with Peggy Carter.

He closed his eyes. Bucky thinks about what life would’ve been like, after the war, sometimes. Becky would marry the pediatrician she’d been sweet on in college—Dr. Proctor. Bucky would be best man at Steve and Peggy’s wedding. He’d walk Becky down the aisle at her wedding, trying not to cry and failing as she rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at her big brother, the sap.

The couples would visit each other on the weekend, have barbecues in the summer and Bucky would hold nieces and nephews in one arm, carefully, lovingly. They’d never go to war again.

He’d be the fun uncle, bring them candy and too many presents on Christmas and shoot off fireworks with them on Steve’s birthday, the fourth of July. Peggy and Becky would yell at Bucky and the kids, warning him not to lose his other arm. “SO HELP ME, JAMES!” they’d shout in tandem and Proctor and Steve would snicker behind paper cups of lemonade as Bucky rolled his eyes and the kids would scream with delight as they sprinted every which way with sparklers. Bucky would look at them all—Becky and Steve, Proctor and Peggy and all the kids, his nieces and nephews and though he’d be missing an arm, he’d have all he needed, right infront of him. Safe, from everything, watching colors dance in the sky—

“—Sergeant Barnes? Bucky?” Shuri was shaking him slightly by the shoulders. Bucky snapped out of his daydream.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “I was thinking about what life might’ve been like, if the war had turned out...differently for me. For Steve.”

Shuri scrutinized him with concern. He had been doing this left often, but he still had these moments, often lasting up to half an hour, where he would stare vacantly, morosely at the distance. Shuri knew his mind was half a century and a world away during these times.

“I see...you mentioned that you weren’t on good terms when you left for the war. What happened?” She hesitated slightly but had to know if there was something missing. There was an unresolved pain he was holdng back, not mentioning.

Bucky tipped his head toward the mid-morning sky, soft with clouds. His eyebrows scrunched painfully, remembering her last words as though it had been yesterday. “Becky...she yelled and screamed and threw things when I told her I was leaving to go to war, with Steve. She said...she said if I left, voluntarily, she would never speak to me again. Not even if I came back in a box.”

Shuri looked at him in horror.

Bucky opened his eyes and blinked at the sun. “You have to understand—Becky was afraid. Young men—boys, a lot of them, were going overseas and not coming back. We’d already lost our mother and father. Aunt Ida was getting on in years.

There would be enough money for Becky to continue college and even get her own place if she wanted after graduation until she found a job, but she cussed at me and told me it wasn’t the money she was worried about.

Becky was terrified of losing me. I was scared, too, of all the dangers she’d face when she left for college, since it was several states away. I kept imagining her getting lost—she had the worst sense of direction—or God forbid anything worse! I couldn’t protect her at college. I begged her to relocate closer, go to a college near home. But, she insisted on her independence. Still, she didn’t have anybody keeping an eye on her. I didn’t sleep for a week after she left until Steve talked me down from my hysteria. He and Ida both sat me down and told me I had to stop worrying or I’d ruin my health. After that, Beck and me chatted every Sunday, no matter what. It helped a lot.

Things were pretty serious with her beau, Proctor, at that point when I enlisted, but they weren’t going to get married until after college, at least. He was going to propose with my mother’s ring—I gave it to him. He promised to take care of her, and by the look in his eyes, I knew he was serious. But, she wouldn’t forgive me for following Steve into war.” Bucky’s eyes slipped shut again, his hand now gently circling the teacup. The tea was cold and stale now. “I assume that after I ‘died’ they informed her. But I don’t know for sure. I’ve never checked.”

Shuri sat quietly. “She thought you abandoned her.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never even tried to trace—“

“No.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but firm. “That part of my life is over now.”

Shuri’s shoulders drooped with disappointment. She could easily track down records, family history, where Becky might be now, where her children or grandchildren might be, if she had married Proctor or not, but instead of mentioning all this to Sergeant Barnes, who was likely thinking the same thing, Shuri merely rose and mentioned, “Becky sounds like a remarkable woman. Thank you for telling me about her, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled a little, the corners of his mouth finally turning up again. “She would’ve liked you.”

Shuri grinned. “I’ll make some more tea. Would you like a new cup?”

“Any chance of that coffee?”

coffee?”

“...Very well. One cup. For another story.” Shuri walked away quickly to brew another pot for herself and coffee for the Winter Soldier, who snorted quietly in the background.

...

One week later:

Bucky returned to his small room, exhausted after a day of learning more about Wakanda’s history and language, his therapy sessions and a baffling session where the princess tried to explain Vine compilations to him.

On his nightstand, there was a steaming cup of tea and a simple manila folder with the words, “Rebecca Ida Barnes Proctor” typed on the front.

A short note from Shuri read,

“Sergeant Barnes-

Thank you for all the stories. I hope this can fill in some of the missing chapters.

Best,

-Shuri”

Bucky sighed deeply. The kid never really gave up. With tentative hope, Bucky opened the folder and began to read about the past. And for the first time in seventy years, he wasn’t afraid to look at those old chapters and see what he missed.

#bucky barnes #shuri #black panther #black panther fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #some things stay the same verse #some things stay the same part 2

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serensama · 7 years ago

Text

For Honour

Prompt One for Jumin x MC Week: ALTERNATE UNIVERSE!!!! I asked everyone a while ago what everyone would like to see and the most popular AU vote was for Samurai Jumin and Whore MC... now I realise that the RFA etc are Korean and not Japanese, but for this AU let’s just all assume they’re all Japanese Warlords okay??? A special shoutout to @sinfulinsecret, happy birthday bebe!!! I was going to write a story just for you today but unfortunately that nasty flu took hold and I couldn’t write it in time. Sorry honey bun, I hope you have an amazing day today though!!! This story will include: 1) Mentions of seppuku, rape, violence. 2) Mild profanity

He was tired.

His muscles were sore and every step he took made him want to scream, his bones crying in pain with each move he made. It was a long day, a long week really. The battle had taken its toll on him and his men and he was glad to just have his sword in its scabbard and not in his blood slicked hand.

Jumin surveyed the room, his cold steel eyes scanning every detail of the opulent entry before settling in to the largest room of the house; the room where the previous Daimyo would hold parties and important meetings with important people, but for right then, it was going to be used to just sit down in and breathe. He was dirty and his clothes caked in his own sweat and other people’s… he didn’t even want to think about it… but he needed to show that he was better than his fatigue, better than the grime that stuck to his skin and armour, better than the last lord that resided in this compound.

The old staff were promptly dismissed and given a hearty share of earnings for them to live upon until they could find new employment. He was not a fool, he could not trust anyone apart from those already beholden to him; those who fought and bled for him. His five vassals and their entourage were already securing the grounds and calling for their servants in the neighbouring village to make the day’s trek to join them. Jumin was so confident about winning the battle, he had them all come along ready to make this house, his new home.

Hearing the scuffle of feet and angry jibes, Jumin’s hand went to his sword to prepare to defend himself, only to recognise the voices the insults had belonged to. Saeran… Zen… I can’t leave you two alone for two minutes before you’re trying to kill someone new.

The shoji door shook open as a flurry of men burst through the door, the clanging of their armour bashing against each other, their heavy footsteps thundering upon the floor. His advisor stepped forward and straightened her kimono, a look of alarm written all over her face. Jumin’s brow furrowed, if even Jaehee was unsettled it must have been something for him to be concerned about. All the other samurai laughed and questioned his sanity when he chose the woman above the battle-hardened Zen or the master strategist Saeyoung; but she was the most well rounded individual able to juggle the most menial of tasks as well as solve the most complex negotiations with a well worded letter. Her hand to hand combat had even bested Zen, his most competent warrior, much to the man’s chagrin. Besides, it was under his Lord Jihyun’s recommendation that he took the woman under his wing and he couldn’t say no to his leader, or his best friend.

“My lord,” she began, her voice rising as the grunts of the men behind grew louder. “We missed one former staff member.”

That was it?

“Jaehee, if that’s all then you know what to do, give her-”

“She was found in the Lord’s chambers, hiding amongst his clothes and a quick search of her person found several riches tucked away.”

A thief then?

“Then simply cut off her hand and-”

“And this dagger,” she added showing him the small, simple knife.

Jaehee had stepped away from the fray to reveal a young woman, no older than his advisor- it was hard to tell with her kicking and screaming like a banshee. Zen and Saeran each had one of her wrists in their firm grasps, the strain of keeping her steady evident by the sweat on their upper lips. Jumin appraised the woman, in simple but well-made clothes, she wasn’t dirty or malnourished and she knew where best to hide to attack him unawares.

“I did nothing wrong!” she screamed, her voice surprisingly loud for such a small creature.

“We beg to differ,” his white haired General clucked, pulling out a pouch from his pocket and throwing it to Jumin. Catching it with ease, Jumin emptied the bag into the palm of his hand, the action causing the woman to pull at her captors and lunge towards him. The two men holding her instantly drew her back, their strength far outclassing hers and forced her on her knees. “Look what she had! Some of the best jewels in the old Daimyo’s cache!”

“They weren’t his!” she snarled as she twisted her head back to look up at Zen, her eyes narrowing to slits.

“And we’re to believe the word of a thief?”

“And a whore.” Jaehee added as she looked back down at the woman, a mix of pity and disdain marring her features. “The other concubines said that there was one missing from their quarters, a short haired beauty- the favourite, they feared her dead.”

Jumin felt his eyebrows shoot up towards the sky at the mention of her previous role in the household, he should have seen it earlier. A young, pretty girl with access to the Lord’s room and knowledge of where he kept all his fine jewellery… of course she was his.

“Such a shame. You would have made a fine-looking wife,” Saeran had tutted as bent down and took her chin into his hand so he could examine her. The woman on the ground violently wrenched her face out of his grasp before spitting onto his face. “You filthy good for nothing whore!” he screamed as he wiped at his face with the corner of his sleeve, his arm up ready to strike some sense into the woman.

“That won’t be necessary, Saeran,” Jumin said, his eyes focused on the brazen woman, his gaze never moving.

“My lord, honour dictates-”

“What honour has she taken from you?”

“I… well-”

“It’s hard to steal honour away from those who have none to begin with,” she sneered under her breath. Saeran released her hand and went to draw his sword out of its sheath before his older brother had intervened and pulled him out of the room, apologising for his twin’s short fuse before retiring for the evening.

“What was that you said?” Jumin asked almost amused.

“I said, that he had no honour. None of you do.”

“Strong words- coming from a thief… and a whore?” he chuckled incredulously at the woman’s impudence, understandable though as she was the favoured mistress. The old Daimyo was probably more in love with her than his wife, probably promised her those jewels and she was just collecting on it. Or, just perhaps, perhaps she was more than what they could see; a great story for him to unravel bit by bit. Perhaps she was merely insane. The woman turned to face him, her eyes blazing, her mouth downturned in a deep frown of disgust.

“Yes. From a whore,” she admitted, her head nodding along to her bitter words, “but not a thief. I have stolen nothing!”

“How could you possibly say that when we caught you with them?” Jaehee asked pointing to the jewellery that still lay on Jumin’s open palm.

“How could you possibly be certain that they were originally owned by that monster?!” she countered, her voice breaking mid-sentence. “How? Were you there when he purchased them? Had them commissioned for his wife? Were you? Were you there when his wife promised that hair pin to her daughter? That ring to her son’s future wife? Were you there?!” she challenged them, her chin held up in the air as tears welled up in her eyes.

Jumin sat back and allowed her words to wash over him. She was looking at them all in the eyes as she spoke, she didn’t stutter or falter, her breathing relatively even if not for the outburst she just had.

She wasn’t lying.

She was no thief.

“Who did these belong to?” he asked quietly, slipping the valuables back into the silk bag before drawing the strings closed. He noticed the woman relax as he placed the bag down on the tatami mat in front on him, seemingly happy to talk rationally now that the finery was not in someone else’s hands.

“My mother,” she whispered, her voice barely heard over his vassal’s breathing.

“Your mother?” he repeated, recalling the craftsmanship of the jewellery, the priceless gems and gold that had been used to create them- if her story rang true she was no pauper.

“My mother was nothing more than farmer’s daughter, it was my father, a merchant, who had them made for her,” she explained to them as she settled down, her eyes moving from person to person as she told her story. “My mother’s jewels were seen by the old Daimyo’s favourite courtesan, told him that she wanted them. So instead of offering to buy them from my father- he simply ordered his men to come into our home and take them by force. My father didn’t stand a chance. He was just was filthy merchant after all.”

The room had felt a thousand times smaller than when he had first entered it. He had heard of this story, from the villagers of the town they passed through. Whispers around him, asking if they were the men that came a over a year ago that murdered a local merchant and his wife, their two children going missing shortly after. She wasn’t lying… and he wanted to cut off her hand to punish her for trying to right the crimes against her. Jumin pinched at the bridge of his nose, a sudden headache blooming at his temples from the new revelations. Sighing he looked back up to meet his vassal’s stares and nodded before standing up, his decision made before he was completely upright.

“Miss-”

“MC, my name is MC,” she replied, her hawk-like gaze on his hand as he pocketed the pouch.

“I will bathe and retire to my new rooms,” he addressed everyone but only looked at her, “I want for her to be waiting for me there upon my arrival.”

His men looked at him aghast, he had never taken any woman to his bed- let alone a courtesan, a hostile enemy whore no less- but there he was asking for her to be brought to his chambers.

“Were my orders unclear?” he questioned, his grey eyes wandering over their shocked expressions. They all shook their heads and responded with a resounding “No my lord!”

Jumin spared a last glance back at MC, sitting on the ground with her body slumped and devoid of the spirit he has seen not a moment ago; but her eyes- they were still like pools of fire, burning and bright, difficult to look into but impossible to turn away.

The new Daimyo wiped the last drops of water from the back of his neck as he entered his room, the walls flickering with the dim light of the lanterns placed around his room. There, sitting on the floor at the edge of the bed in a flimsy white yukata, was MC. She had obviously been taken to bathe judging from the wet patch of where the tips of her hair had dripped onto the material, patches of her skin peeking through from the thin robe.

Jumin walked slowly, careful not to startle the woman as he knelt down and slid into the other side of the bed. He sat up with his hands folded in his lap as he waited for MC to say something, instead she sighed before pulling at the tie that fastened her clothes around her. She slid one arm out and then another before Jumin regained his senses and told her to stop, in a voice much more alarmed than he was used to hearing from himself.

Her back bare to him, her soft, smooth skin illuminated by the glow of the moonlight; Jumin almost gave in to his instincts and touched her- his fingertips barely centimetres from grazing her. He pulled back his hand and balled it into a fist against his lips, clearing his throat as if that were his plan all along, praying to anyone that would listen that the flush he could feel on his cheeks remained hidden from the woman before him.

MC looked over her shoulder to steal a look at him, the all-powerful new lord of the fief, was nothing but a blushing mess.

“What good is a clothed whore?” she asked as she slipped the robe back on, staring back at the door in front of her, wanting nothing more than to get up and go back to her bed and lock the door behind her.

“Who told you that you were here to be a whore?” he rebutted, his lips quirking to the side in a cocky smirk.

“I… what other use do I have to you?”

“Your story. Tell me it,” he commanded, his tone more biting than he intended. He could practically feel her bristle at him and his arrogance. “I thought it prudent for you to not have to relive all of that in front of a room full of strangers, but I need to know. I’m the only one who needs to believe you in order for you to live.”

“So, my head is still on the chopping block?”

“I never said that-”

“But you don’t deny it either,” she ground out as she turned completely to face him, her body rigid with agitation.

“Tell me.” He watched as MC looked uncertain for the first time since he had seen her earlier in the night, she seemed so much smaller even though she was closer than before, as if the slightest of winds could blow her away with barely any trouble. She picked at the fine blankets beneath her, fidgeting to release her nervous energy.

“This isn’t a pretty story; wouldn’t you prefer to read one of those books over there?” she asked pointing at the small shelf with a humble pile of books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in months.

“I’m not asking for a bedtime story MC, I’m asking for yours,” he simply answered, holding her gaze until she broke away to stare out onto the balcony, inhaling deeply to soothe her frazzled nerves. He could see her hands shake as she pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear, how she licked her lips once, twice before even uttering a single word and how she had fixed her stare at the wall just behind him.

She didn’t want to… and he would never force her.

“But you’re right, perhaps not tonight. Fetch one of those books for me,” he said, throwing his left hand towards the shelf as he tucked himself into bed. MC released a breath she didn’t know she was holding and got to her feet, the slightest wobble in her gait as she headed towards the shelves. Picking up the first book on the haphazard pile and wiping it absentmindedly on her hips, dirtying the pristine white fabric of her yukata, MC handed it to Jumin.

“Stay, listen. Then perhaps, soon, it will be the right time to hear your story.”

MC fell back to her knees and sat at the foot of the bed, astounded at the sudden twist in developments. She had never met a Samurai or Daimyo she had liked, any that were honourable or kind. She hadn’t met one who’d turned down her body. Feeling rather lost she let herself succumb to the smooth baritone of his voice and the calming timbre it held. Her adrenaline spent, MC ignored all decorum and lay on her back to keep listening to him read; she didn’t even care about what he was saying, it was just nice to listen to him. Apart from the slightest pause in his reading, the new lord didn’t say anything or flinch at the lack of manners she displayed, instead merely shifted to get more comfortable and continued reading.

The next thing she knew she was awake as the light streamed into her eyes from the balcony, her position at the foot of the bed lining her up perfectly with the sun’s first rays. Cursing herself for being so stupid, she realised that she had been wrapped up in the thick, expensive blankets of the bed, meaning he had sacrificed his own comfort for her own. A nobody. A whore. Craning her neck over her shoulder she saw that the rest of the bed looked rather pristine, like it hadn’t been slept in at all- did he sleep somewhere else? It would make sense if he couldn’t stretch out and was cold- actually it would have made more sense to kick her and tell her to get off his bed and back to hers.

MC sat up and looked around the room to find Jumin sitting at the table, pouring over the books of the household and reports from his vassals. Had he slept at all? Feeling somewhere in between mortified and grateful MC promptly made his bed and was about to bow and excuse herself when he spoke first, not bothering to look up at her.

“Again. Tomorrow night. Tell me your story. You will not leave here until I have heard it.”

“If you wish it, my lord.”

Night after night, she would come and share his bed, only to have him end up reading to her. Sometimes she found herself listening and following the stories, laughing and gasping at the right times. Other times she would be so comforted by his voice that she would be lulled straight to sleep and every morning, without fail, Jumin would be sitting at his desk reading and working.

“Do you ever sleep, my lord?” she asked one evening as she slid into her own blankets, a set Jumin had asked to be brought up and kept at the end of the bed for her. Jumin raised one ebony eyebrow as he lay the open book flat across one thigh. “It’s just- it seems like you never do.”

“Of course I do.”

“But-”

“Now shall we continue?”

“Uh, y-yes.”

“Very well.”

When she had woken from her restless sleep, there was Jumin sitting at the head of the bed, watching over her.

“This is the first time I have known you to lie,” she croaked, stretching her arms out as she sat up to mirror his seated position, her eyes still blinking the sleep away from her eyes. Jumin chuckled and swiped at his bottom lip with his thumb, embarrassed to be caught out for not only lying but for staring over a sleeping woman.

“I did not mean to.”

“Take your rest my lord. You will need your strength.”

“I am strong enough.”

“Even the strong get tired. Are you not tired my lord?”

“Impossibly so.”

“Take your rest my-”

“Jumin. If some pig farmer’s son can become my general and call me my name, surely you can be bestowed the same courtesy.”

“Sleep, Jumin.”

“I will try.”

He didn’t sleep but neither did she. Both of them too wrapped up in watching each other. Both too tired to question why they were staring. The next night, there were no new books for them to read, nothing left to hide behind. She sat beside him and looked him in the eye and smiled sadly.

Tonight then.

“My… my father lay dead, beaten and bloodied beyond recognition; so, my mother ran out to us, my brother and I- to hide us away in a wardrobe to keep us safe. As she was about to leave the room, she was set upon by a pack of men- my brother and I forced to listen as they passed her around like cheap sake. By the time they left it was daybreak and they left my mother a broken, grieving mess. She bid me take care of my brother, that she was dishonoured and that she needed to meet our father in heaven to apologise for being taken as she was. She chose to leave this life, chose to leave us- because honour demanded it. That was when I realised that there is no honour in death, only death.”

Jumin sat still as her words crashed over him, the helplessness she must have felt, the grief that must have still resided in her heart. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with that. He was about to speak when he realised that she was still trying to talk, that there was more to her story.

“I had to look after my brother, he was only 10 and with no knowledge of how to be a farm boy or anything but a future scholar,” she smiled sadly as a dark chuckle trickled from her lips. “My mother had dreams for him to become an advisor the Emperor and he could have you know… the kid was so smart…”

Was.

“I sold whatever was left at home; tapestries, books, my fine clothes. My mother’s wedding kimono. Everything. But that only gave us enough to live for six months… with nothing left and no one hiring a girl whose only purpose was to become a good wife… I started to wander from village to village, getting whatever job I could get to keep food in my brother’s belly. I would wake and cook his meals for the day before I left to look for work- all before the sun rose, I worked and came home after the sun set to make dinner. I… sold my hair,” she whimpered touching the ends of where her hair would be if she hadn’t had cut it.

“My brother got sick, the consumption. I could barely afford to keep him alive when he was healthy… I couldn’t afford his medicine… not unless I… men would always say I was pretty… The first man I was with, I couldn’t, I just cried. I told him all my troubles, my fears, even though he didn’t ask. He told me he would help… and I was so desperate, I believed him. A Ronin with kind eyes. He said he would take me and my brother to a clinic with doctors to help him… he didn’t make the journey.”

MC paused, her eyes glassy and her chest heaving with her breaths, fingers twisted into the blankets. Still Jumin remained silent, the man knowing when it was best to hold his tongue.

“The man laughed. Thankful that the boy had died before our destination so he didn’t have to kill him in front of me… because he was no Ronin, he was a vassal of the old Daimyo you killed. He was taking me back here to whore me out because his lord was, what were the words he used, ah yes- deeply saddened to hear that he missed out on the fun. I was to be… the new fun.”

Jumin hadn’t realised when he had gotten up and started pacing the room, his rage swirled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, bile burning the back of his throat. How could a man who called himself Daimyo behave in such a manner- where was his honour, his pride? He was glad he was already dead because the way he was feeling he could have torn the man in two with his bare hands.

“H-How are you still here? How did you not kill him? While you were with him or while he slept? I don’t understand how!” he cawed, disbelief emblazoned on his handsome face. A wry smile formed across her lips as she thought over his question.

“How? I just wanted to live. I wanted a warm bed. I wanted food. I wanted to live,” she repeated, her large eyes boring into his as he walked. So that was it then, she just wanted to live comfortably and not have to struggle- considering what she endured he understood perfectly why that would be the case- but considering what she had endured, he couldn’t understand how she just chose to take it all, lying down.

“But more than that- I wanted my family’s keepsakes back. Out of his mistresses’ greedy little fingers and for that I needed time. I needed to gain his trust to show me where he kept them. I wanted him to wake up one morning to know that I could have killed him, I could have done anything I wanted when he was most vulnerable. I wanted him to know, no matter how hard he pushed me that in the end I was never his, I was never broken. That whatever honour I had left was intact. Because I was alive! I made it!... there... there was honour to be had...to be found... in being alive.”

Jumin stared at the woman before him, a fire in her soul so bright he was hypnotised. She was more frightful than any man in his army and more cunning than any enemy he had faced. She was brave. She had dignity. In a world that stripped her of everything, she managed to shroud herself in honour. The Daimyo sunk to his knees before her, his grey eyes searching hers, his large hands clamping over the tops of her arms- his grip biting but held no malice.

“You-”

“Me.”

“Well done.”

“… Thank you.”

Opening a secret compartment in his wardrobe, Jumin brought a familiar looking silk pouch and handed them to her.

“You believe me?”

“They’re yours. How could I not?”

MC threw herself on top of him, her arms locked around his shoulders with her face buried in the crook of his neck. She felt his strong heartbeat as it started to race.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his chest.

Jumin could practically hear the thrum of her heart, how warm she was under his hands, how soft her lips were upon his skin. He closed his eyes and tried his best to recite all the proper kanji stroke orders of each character in a weak attempt to stop his thoughts from going to a place he had been fighting off since the first time he had seen her. MC pulled away slowly, her fingertips still resting against his broad shoulders as she looked him in the eyes. Tentatively she moved towards him, her mouth angling just the right way to kiss him; when she was barely a hair’s breadth away from touching him, he flinched.

“I thought I said I didn’t ask you to come here to be a whore,” he whispered, the tops of his cheeks flushing a bright crimson. MC smiled as her thumbs massaged the colour away, her hot breath fanning over his lips.

“I’m not. I’m just… here.” Their first kiss burned through him. Their second revived him. The third made him believe he was long dead, for nothing in the living world was meant to feel so good. When they parted, he knew that if he had to, he would wage war on all of Japan for this woman. He would be called tyrant and she would be called whore. And he wouldn’t care.

Jumin pressed a kiss to her brow in a sweet act of tenderness MC once would have never believed they could share and now was impossible to envision without it. For the first time in months, Jumin walked over to the shelf and picked a book. He handed it to her before simply sliding into bed, drawing the sheets away from her side to silently ask for her to lay beside him. Brightening the lamp beside her, she cleared her throat and began to read. Faltering over some words she had not come across in her limited studies, her reading was no less relaxing for the man… who finally fell asleep beside her.

When he woke, he was alone. The black silk pouch with her belongings gone. Jumin slammed his hand on the bedding, his anger raw and seething, his teeth grinding along one another, his stomach quaking.

He had trusted. He had listened and he had fallen. Somewhere along the way, he had fallen.

“… Tell me your story. You will not leave here until I have heard it.”

Ahh. So he had. And so she did.

The door to his chambers opened and without looking he screamed at them to leave him, that he didn’t want to be disturbed unless war was upon them and perhaps not even then.

“If this is how you act when you get some sleep Jumin, I’d rather keep you awake at night.”

The Daimyo turned back carefully, lest his eyes played tricks on him. With jewels dripping from her body and the golden hairpin glinting in her hair, he defied anyone to call her whore again. He defied anyone test her… their… honour again.

“And how do you propose to do that? Do you have more stories to tell, MC?”

She nodded, setting the opulent tray of food aside before falling into bed with him.

“So tell me, what might they be?”

“It’s a long story. It could take a lifetime to tell.”

“Then I won’t let you leave until you do.”

#mystic messenger #juminmcweek #jumin han x mc #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme #mysmes #mystic messenger head canon #juminmcweek day 1 #alternate universe #tw: mentions of rape violence and suicide #angst

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winchesterprincessbride · 7 years ago

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She-Devil

This was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing Spn Hiatus Writing Challenge Week #7. The prompt is “Stop filming me, Moron!”

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader

Sam and Dean had learned from experience that Y/N couldn’t hold her liquor. A drink or two was fine, but if you let her binge drink bad things happened. She became a completely different person.

After a drinking binge the kind, sweet, pleasant woman they loved would be gone and in her place would be the Tazmanian Devil. When “Taz” (as Dean called her alter ego) showed up, she left chaos and destruction in her wake.

Taz was rude, belligerent, had no regard for rules of any kind, and had the sex drive of a cat in heat. Luckily Taz only showed up when a hunt went really, REALLY badly, Y/N messed up, and someone died. And Sam and Dean were left to clean up the chaos she created.

And this hunt had been a shitstorm. Y/N had barely spoken on the way back, except to say she wanted to go to the bar. Dean exchanged a worried glance with Sam. They were in BIG trouble tonight.

Sam hated the cycle of destruction that Y/N put herself through at times like this. He did everything he could to stop the binge and minimize the damage, and he would be there tomorrow when Y/N was hung over and filled with embarrassment and self-loathing. He always was. He loved Y/N. He always had, but she would never see him that way, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to be a good friend.

Y/N began knocking back shots the minute they arrived at the bar. The boys kept stealing her shots when her back was turned, and Sam had already instructed the waitress to take a really long time to bring them. But it didn’t matter, Y/N just ordered more, or went off in search of them.

After a few hours, she was out of control. She had a habit of removing her clothes when she was drunk because she got too hot so Sam was watching her like a hawk.

“I really hate when she does this,” Sam complained to Dean. “She’s gonna hate herself tomorrow.”

“You really should just tell her, Sammy.” Dean finally said.

Sam looked at his brother in confusion. “Tell her what?”

“That you’re in love with her, dumbass,” Dean said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You had been talking to a really hot guy who had been plying you with drinks all night because he knew an easy mark when he saw it. Sam had tried to get you to stay with him, but you wouldn’t, so he just followed you around making sure you didn’t do anything stupid.

“Wanna get out of here, Baby?” Your latest conquest whispered in your ear. Just then your favorite song came on the jukebox and you start dancing on the table, throwing off your shirt in a striptease motion because you were suddenly much too hot, revealing your black lacy bra.

The guy looked like he had suddenly won the lottery and the group of college boys at the next table pulled out their phones in one collective motion and all began filming you and catcalling.

You kept dancing until the song was over but when you noticed the phones trained on you, you jumped off the table and gave your new friend a winning smile. “Be right back, Sugar.” You cooed.

“Stop filming me, Moron!” You yelled at the guy nearest to you, and reaching out, grabbed his phone and threw it to the floor and the screen shattered. One of the girls in their group immediately got in your face and started yelling at you. You pushed her, she pushed you, and it then it was ON!

It was an all-out girl fight until Sam stepped in finally, grabbing you around the waist and dragging you away. He leaned down to yank your shirt off the floor and walked over to where Dean was chatting up some blond Barbie doll.

“Keys?” He said bluntly to Dean, balancing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

“Need help?” Dean asked.

“Nope,” Sam said shortly.

“Lemme the fuck down, Sammy. I mean it.” You screeched, flailing and trying to kick him.

“Be quiet!” Sam demanded as he stalked out of the bar amid laughter and pointing.

Tossing you in the back seat, he got in the front and headed for the motel.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” You snapped.

“And you are drunk and out of control. You need to go sleep it off.” Sam told you, hands tightening on the wheel in anger.

“I hate you!” You snapped, crossing your arms and pouting like a little kid.

You refused to get out of the car so Sam yanked you out and threw you over his shoulder again without a word, you cursing and screaming like a banshee the entire way back to the room.

He threw you down on the bed and glared at you. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

You immediately burst into tears. “That kid died, Sam. Because of me. I wasn’t fast enough.”

“We can’t save everyone, Y/N,” Sam told you quietly.

You looked up at him through red-rimmed eyes smeared with mascara. “Why do you care so much? So what if I drink myself to death and screw anything that moves? What’s it to you?”

“Because I can’t sit back and watch the woman I love slowly self-destruct anymore. I may not have saved that kid today, but dammit Y/N I am going to save you.”

Sam held his breath for a moment, sure his confession would make you run. You stood up and he tensed.

“You love me?” You said shortly, and he nodded without speaking. He waited for you to start cursing at him again.

Instead, you threw yourself into his arms and kissed him.

@skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@fangirl1802 @pinknerdpanda @atc74@jayankles @notnaturalanahi@midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals@winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog@essie1876@bohowitch @just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion@keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278 @stylinson531 @valynsia @dr-dean @theoutlinez @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek @luciisthebest @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1 @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

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reject-princess97 · 8 years ago

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Stiles Stilinski-Teen wolf/Supernatural Crossover

All all began about a year ago, I was on a case in Beacon Hills with my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, nothing big just a call about a wolf problem. While in the small town we found that the wolves weren't the problem, it was the other supernatural things that kept attacking the town. We had decided that we would stay a bit and get on top of the crap that kept happening.

After about a month of being in the Beacon Hills, I was bitten by a werewolf known as Peter Hale, but instead of turning into a wolf like most of the people who were bitten by him that I had met around town, I became a banshee just like a girl Lydia who I had met and we quickly became best friends.

A while later Sam decided it was time to leave and after a lot of thought I figured, being a hunter all ready and all ready knowing about the supernatural stuff, I decided to stay in Beacon Hills and live with my friend Lydia so I can help out when ever something supernatural screwed things up, while my bothers traveled the country hunting. At first I really missed my brothers but I soon became busy saving Beacon Hills from various supernatural beings. In the last year I had become apart of Scott's pack, become good friends with most of the pack because of Lydia and I even managed to snag myself a socially awkward, sarcastic yet incredibly adorable dorky boyfriend named Stiles. A lot had happened in the last year but it only made the pack stronger and right now we needed to be strong...for Lydia, because yesterday Lydia was taken by a group of supernatural beings that wanted something from Scott and I.

Being a Winchester sure had it's draw backs, everyone knew who you were and wanted something from you. I had spent the day doing all I could to figure out what the hell these ass hat were but no such luck. I looked through every book I had, I even called Bobby for help but that didn't help at all. It looked like I had only one choice left...

I was sat with Stiles, Scott and Derek in Derek's loft trying to figure out how the hell we were going to get my best friend back. I was sat with Stiles on the sofa, listening to Scott and Derek argue about how to handle this situation. I had tried to give my input but apparently my approach was to violent and we didn't need to start any fights.

"Look, it's not like we know what the hell they are, Scott they took her and they won't give her back until they get what they want. We don't even know what the hell they want, we don't need to wait this one out." Derek said as he tried to reason with Scott who once again wanted to win this without fighting.

"No, we are not going to start another fight and get people hurt or worse killed." He growled at us.

"No offence Scott but things never works the way you want it and we always end up fighting. So I'm skipping the whole 'hand holding round the camp fire' part and fixing this myself." I said standing up, finally having enough of this crap, I grabbed my jacket and walking towards the door wanting to leave but Derek's voice stopped me.

"Oh Yeah, and what are you going to do? You just a Banshee Y/N, no special powers." he asked, rolling his eyes at me, I turned and smiled sweetly at him. By know Stiles had stood up and walked over to Scott and they were both watching me, worried about how I was going to respond. I was a lot like my big brother Dean when it came to my wit and well 'sassy pants' as Sammy would say.

"Oh I'm going to go over there and invite them to an 'all you can eat buffet', before asking them nicely." I replied, putting my jacket on over my red plaid shirt.

"Really?" Derek asked, raising his eye brow at me as I shook my head and pulled my phone out, looking at the screen and looking over at Derek again.

"No, stupid, not really, it's called sarcasm Derek, look it up...I'm going to go over there and kill them all one by one until they tell me where the hell my best friend is." I almost shouted as I walked over to him, pulled out my knife and pointed it at Derek's chest. "Lydia has been my best friend since I first moved out here and there is no way in hell I'm letting those ass hats get away with taking her away from her pack, do you understand?" I asked, Calmly, the sort of calm Stiles usually describes as scary calm, Before I put the knife away and carried on walking out of the loft.

''God, can I marry her already ?" I heard Stiles ask as he and Scott follow me out which made me smile to myself. I walked outside into the cold night air and shivered as the denim shorts and black, lace crop top didn't give to much warmth. I pulled my jacket around my tighter as I stood on the sidewalk waiting.

"Y/N, what are we doing out here?" Stiles asked as he walked over, rapping his arms around me and pulled me into his chest as a way of keeping me warm. I smiled and looked up and him.

"Thanks" I said a smile lighting up my face and I could feel Stiles' warm breath hit my face as he breathed out.

"Anytime." He said quietly as he kissed my nose.

"And I called for back up," I added, replying to Stiles' earlier question. Scott and Stiles both opened their mouth to say something but before they could, A black, 1967 Chevy Impala came racing round the corner, pulling up in front of me and the boys.

"Wow, wow, wow...hands off my little sister dude." I heard my big brother shout as he rolled down the window.

"Someone called for the Winchester brothers?" My other brother Sammy asked, I smiled and jumped up and down a little as both my brothers got out of the car and walk around to give me a huge hug.

"Dean, Sammy, god I've missed you guys." I squealed as I jumped into my big brothers arms.

"We missed you too Y/N, so what do you need?" Dean asked, looking over and glaring at Stiles who was standing a little to close to me for his liking.

"Our friend, Lydia was taken by some weird looking things and we need you to help 1) figure out what they are and 2) getting Lydia back. I've looked in every book, on the internet and I can't find anything on the ass clowns. I called Bobby and he doesn't know what they are either." I explained. "I was hoping maybe you two or Cas might know something." I smiled as I pulled out my phone and showing the picture of the thing that took Lydia.

Sammy looked and shook his head, Dean doing the same, "Sorry kid, no idea what the hell they are. Maybe Cas will know. Dean, Call him." Sammy said looking over at Dean who just rolled his eyes.

"Yo, Castiel, we need you buddy," he shouted in to the sky. I watch and burst out laughing at Scott and Stiles looked at my brother like he was crazy. The laughing soon ended when I heard the flutter of wings and the deep booming voice of my favorite angel of the lord.

"Hello Dean, Sam, what do you need?" he asked as he looked around us, I smiled and jumped on him almost knocking him over, "CASSY!" I called to which he simply laughed.

"Hello Y/N it's good seeing you again, how are things? How is the boyfriend?" He asked pulling away and looking at the two teen age boys behind me.

"Wait, boyfriend???" Dean shouted but no one really paid any attention to him.

"Cassy we need your help, do you know what this is?" I asked once again holding up the screen for him to look at, he too shook his head and frowned, "Well what ever they are, they have my best friend and we need to find a way to get her back." I said before walking off, back into Derek's loft, everyone following me.

"Can we just head back for a minute, What boyfriend? Y/N doesn't have a boyfriend, she isn't allowed a boyfriend." Dean shouted, making my stop in my tracks, turn around on my heels and glare at my big brother.

" Excuse me?" I questioned, as anger flashed across my face. I could feel it bubbling up inside me.

"Oh crap" I heard Stiles and Scott mutter at the same time, Sammy and Cas both looked at them in confusion before turning back to look at me.

"I'm not allowed, a boyfriend?" I asked.

"No, you're to young." He said, crossing his arms at me and glaring at me.

"What gives you the right to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"I'm your big brother, it's my job to protect you" he replied

"No, it's not, you don't get to tell me what to do when you live half way across the country and don't even bother to call." I snapped. If there is one thing you need to know about me, it's I hate being told what I can and can't do, especially when it's Dean. "You do not get to come here after a year and start calling the shots on how I am to live my life. I'm a hunter Dean, I can handle myself against some demons I can handle myself around boys. Stiles is the sweetest, most caring, dorky person I've ever met and I'll be damned if you think you can come back here and take him away from me do you understand that Dean Winchester?" I said as I walked up to is face, showing how serious I was before I walked off to Stiles who smiles at me as I took his hand.

"No, Y/N I raised you and Sammy, that gives me the right to be the protective brother and I'm saying this isn't happening." At this my anger got the best of me, I felt it pushing and pushing until I couldn't hold it anymore and I screamed, sending Dean flying through the air crashing into a wall.

I fell to my knee and toppled over, falling towards the floor. I closed my eyes waiting for the floor to make contact with my face but it never came. I tried to open my eyes but it didn't help. I knew I had done something bad, this time using more strength than I ever had before.

"Y/N, Y/N, it's me Stiles, look at me. open your eyes Y/N, come on." I heard him whisper in my ear, panic and worry evident in his voice as he stroked my face, trying to get me to open my eyes. I tried again, this time opening my eyes to come face to face with my very worried boyfriend.

"Stiles? What happened?" I asked as I looked around, trying to figure out what I did. It was then I noticed Dean on the floor in pain.

"Dean, Oh my chuck, are you OK?" I asked as I tried to get up, falling over in the process, "I didn't mean to hurt you, I just got so angry. I still haven't controlled my powers yet, I am so sorry." I yelled as I made my way over to Dean, with a little help from Stiles and Scott. Sammy and Cas both helped him up and we all made our way back into Derek's apartment.

"Y/N, what happened?" Derek asked as we made our way over to the couch.

"She got angry and screamed and threw her brother against a wall...it was awesome." Stiles explained, pride evident in his voice. I turned and sent a glare his way before turning back to my brother's. "Y/N, he'll be fine, how many times have you screamed and thrown me or Scott across the room, hell you threw peter across the school field." Stiles spoke softly, placing a hand on my shoulder calming me down a bit.

"I guess you're right, but just to be sure, Cas, can you heal him, please?" I asked turning to Castiel who was already do what he can to fix my brother. His face filled with worry he nodded and placed his hand on his head until Dean woke up, groggy and confused.

"What happened?" Dean asked placing a hand on his head, he looked around and once his eyes landed on me he remembered. "Oh, right, you two...we'll talk about that later. First we should get your friend back. But this isn't over Y/N." he told my pointing at me, eyes filled with anger and worry. "So, what's the plan?" he asked, sitting himself up.

"My plan, as usual, is to follow her plan" Stiles replied simply, pointing at me, smiling his big goofy smile.

"I have a plan." I shrugged

"Is it a good plan?" Scott asked looking over at me rather skeptical, obviously remembering my last plan.

"...I have a plan." I repeated sending Scott and Stiles a look that we usually shared when one of us have a stupid idea.

"Yes but will it get us killed?" Derek added obviously not reading the look the boys and I had shared.

"If done Properly no, we'll get through this with ease." I replied, more confident in my plan.

"OK, but the Stiles boy stays." Sam said looking at Stiles. I turned and frowned, looking at Sam.

"Why?" I asked

"Because he is an just a normal person."

"Just a normal person. I'll have you know I was once possessed by an evil fox spirit that tried to kill my girlfriend and all my friends." Stiles sassed.

"OK, but you're not a hunter, a werewolf or any supernatural being, what exactly do you bring to the group?" Dean butted in standing up of the couch and walking over to Stiles looking him up and down.

"Oh, I turn into an abominable snow man, but that's more of a seasonal this." Stiles retorted, sarcastically, obviously feeling a little pissed and my brother's comment.

" Hey, Stiles might be ordinary but he has done a hell of a lot for this group, if it wasn't for him, most of this town would be dead." I told my brother, getting in between Dean and Stiles. "He is very smart when it comes to solving problems and he is a lot tougher than he looks, Sammy." I reasoned with my brother, as I took the Keys from Deans pocket and making my way out to the car, ignoring his protests.

I walked outside and to the trunk of the car, opening it up and grabbing what weapon I could, handing Stiles my old shot gun that I didn't even know my brothers kept.

"Y/N, we can't get your friend, Kill the monsters AND protect your little Boyfriend." Dean shouted obviously not listening to a word I am saying. I shock my head and look my brother dead in the eyes.

"Listen to me right now Dean Winchester, I did not call you here to tell me and my friends what we can and can't do. I have been on the 'battle field' more times than I would have liked with Stiles. I trust him with my life. So he is coming with us whether you like it or not. You don't have to look out for him because we, Scott, Stiles and I are a team, we have each others back so stop worrying. Now get your fat, angel loving ass in that car and take us to go get my best friend before I take this shot gun and shove it so far up you ass even Cas would have trouble finding it...Do you understand?" I yelled getting annoyed at Dean.

Dean looked at me and smirked a little bit but the fear we evident in his eyes. "Well you heard the lady, lets go." Sammy laughed pulling Dean by his collar, to the Impala.

Sam, Dean, Stiles, Scott and I all got into the Impala while Derek followed behind. Dean driving, Sammy sat shotgun and the boys and I sat in the back seat, at first I was quiet until Dean stuck on the radio. Carry on my wayward son, began playing through the speakers making both Scott and Sammy groan.

"Really?" Scott asked give me and Stiles a funny look.

"What? It's a classic." We both answered back at the same time coursing Dean to laugh a little.

"Yep, she's definitely your sister." Sam mumbled to Dean who just looked back at me, a sense of pride in his smile.

"That she is." He said simply turning the radio up as he, Stiles and I began to sing along.

We drove for a little while until we pulled up at an old abandoned building. we exited the car and each just looked at each other.

"Right, Sammy, Y/N and I will go this way, goofus twins, go that way." Dean instructed but I just stood there, shaking my head.

"Nope, I'm with them Dean," I sighed before taking Scott and Stiles hand and pulling them towards the door. We quietly entered the building, walking around in the dark until I heard Scott and Stiles shout and I felt a bag of some sort being pulled over my head.

Who ever had taken us push us, walking behinds us, leading us to somewhere I couldn't see.

"Lydia?" I heard Scott say just as someone pulled the bags from my head. There tied to a chair was my best friend. she didn't look hurt, she just looked tired.

I was pulled down into a chair by the unknown kidnapper. I was tied down to the chair and I felt a hand strike across my face.

"Did, you really think it would be that easy, that you could just walking in here and take her?" a woman asked from somewhere behind me...I tried to turn around, to see who she was but I couldn't move. "It's a shame you came here by your selves. no one will find you and If they did I would just have to kill them. I need you little banshee friend to finish my plan and I and not letting you and your little boy toys stop me." She shouted, hitting me once again. I looked at her, trying to figure out if I knew her or not. I didn't I had never seen her before, but she seemed to know me.

"Who said they were alone" I heard Dean shout then all of a sudden there were gun shots and the sound of fighting. Derek ran over and cut us free from the chairs and ran back to help my brothers, the boys and I following. " Really, why is it when something happens it's always you three." I heard a familiar voice shout, I turned to see Argent and Peter fighting the now masked kidnappers.

We fought for a while, I got hit again but i didn't care too much. I shouted for all my friends to cover their ears and get down to the floor as I drew in a big breath and I screamed...loud. The bad guys flew across the room, each falling unconscious as they hit the wall.

I sighed and laughed a little, falling to the floor but I felt someone catch me. "I got you baby sis." Dean spoke as he held me up. I smiled and nodded, resting my head on his shoulder, relaxing a little. That is until I heard some one scream and a gun fire. "Y/N, Dean, look out!".

I all seemed to happen in slow motion. It was as if I saw the bullet leave the gun and slowly make it's way towards my boyfriend and into my boyfriends chest. He fell to the floor and groaned and I ran over to him.

"STILES!" I shouted, falling to my knees and lifting his head into my lap. "What the hell is wrong with you? why did you do that." I cried, felling tiers run down my face and a looked in to Stiles' eyes and he just lay there looking at me.

"She was going to shoot you." He answered

"I could heal you idjit."

"Yeah, but your brother can't and I know how much it would kill you if he died." He whispered, pulling my hand into his. I looked down and shook my head.

"Dude, you took a bullet for my brother?" Sammy asked, sitting by me.

"well yeah, I mean sure he doesn't like me but Y/N's family, which makes you both family too." Stiles laughed as he sat up.

"Thanks dude." Dean whispered, not believing what had just happened.

While all this was happening Scott had obviously set Lydia free. They had both made their way over to us and Scott looked over at me worried. "Y/N, his heart is slowing down." He whispered, tiers welling in his eyes.

"CAS!!!!!!" I called. I didn't know what else to do. I could't save him on my own.

Cas came over and before I could even speak he helped Stiles fixing him with in minutes.

"Wow, thanks dude." Stiles said to Cas as he sat up more steadily, turning towards me smiling. I thanked Cas a dove into Stiles arms.

"Stilinski, you are by far the biggest Idiot I have ever met in my entire life." I shouted at him, hitting him on the back of his head.

"Yeah, I know, But I'm your idiot and you love me for it." he smiled

"You're right, I do." I laughed

"That's good cos I love you too." He replied before I pulled him close and kissed him.

"Wow, Hey...we still need to talk about this whole dating thing." Dean shouted, I turned to look at him and sighed, ready for the massive argument that is destined to happen.

"Welcome to the family kid." Dean laughed.

"Wait really?" I asked looking up at Dean a little taken aback by his comment

"Sis anybody stupid enough to take a bullet for you and I is welcome to date my baby sister." He said laughing as I stood up and dove into his arms hugging him tight.

Stiles stood up and smiled widely at me. "Dude if I had know that, i would have let you shot me before." He signed, a hint of humour on his face as I walked back over to me and kissed him again.

#stiles stilinksi imagine #teenwolf #imagaines #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #scott mccall #castiel

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absyoung55 · 8 years ago

Text

It's Not Worth It

Part 1 Word count: a lot

Part 2

Summary: Y/N imprints on Stiles but there are complications. And obsticls this is part 1 mostly an introduction to new character.

A/n: I tried my best to portray the main characters scottish accent but I think I failed.

My howl echoed through the woods. I bared my teeth a low growl rumbled in my chest as I crouched protectively in front of Stiles. Red eyes flashed through the woods multiple sets danced menacingly around us. “Y/N….” Deucalion whispered my name curtly, his pack of alphas had Stiles and I pinned against a tree. “ All you have to do is join us, seeing as you have no pack to kill” the demon wolf spoke charismaticly, “perhaps we should have you kill the scrawny boy you’re protecting” a snarl escaped my lips. “ I-ill die first an Scott is stronger than all o’ yeh“ I took a swipe at Aiden, and Ethen snarled at me. “ Ah but you and Scott are coveted alphas” Deucalion was inching closer, Kali charged me last second she attempted to round house kick me, I grabbed her by the calf and swung her like a baseball bat into the tree behind me effectively knocking her out. Everyone stared at her lifeless body, I grabbed Stiles and swung him onto my back. “ Hang on” I sprinted with inhuman speed back to the Jeep.

I was a lone wolf my whole life, being born a Lowenmensch (german for lionsman), and immediately becoming an alpha when my mother died giving birth to me. I have no idea when I was born, almost all of my childhood was a blur but, I aged like Wolverine well sorta I don’t really age at all. My mother’s name was Caoimhe in gaelic it means gentle, she was born a pure Lowenmensch, Ive been told she was the most beautiful woman on the isle of Skye. Many believe she was the reincarnation of the goddess Branwen; goddess of love and beauty. My father’s name was Domhnull he was a bitten werewolf, he planned to kill me as an infant to become alpha but, my mothers sister protected me, she wasnt a werewolf/lion she was a banshee her name was Morrigan after the goddess. She raised me, kept me safe and she taught me what I needed to do in order to survive: I had to consume pineal glands, when I consumed this small part of the human/supernatural brain I gained that persons “powers” or special skills, and she told me that when she died she wanted me to consume hers. I told her that day would never come. 20 years after my birth my aunt developed scurvy, at the time we were not welcome in our village due to a mishap involving me running through the village…. naked, howling at the full moon out of control during my first estrus cycle. I sat by her side taking her pain until the end. When she passed I reluctantly broke open her skull. When my aunts ‘soul’ entered my body I changed, my eyes glowed a glorious violet. Insted of a banshee scream my roar was enhanced, insted of sensing death I could heal those who were dieing, I didnt hear voices but I had complete control over my inner animal. Soon after my aunts passing my father came for me, he was shocked to find a strong woman and not a scrawny out of control mess mourning for my aunt. What shocked him even more was my violet eyes insted of red ones, he decided it would still be worth his while to kill me, when he approched: I roared. He shit his pants and turned tail, I never saw my father again.

I stopped ageing around my 18th year. The humans began to notice I never aged, and so I left my home on Isle of Skye. I traveled the world, I never kept track of the years, but I left my mark in each place I traveled. I helped build Stonehenge (how else could humans move those stones they used werewolves). I studied with Aristotle at Plato’s academy in Athens. I fought as a gladiator in the Colosseum. I painted with Michelangelo. Obviously it was difficult to be a woman in these times but I made due often dressing as a man. It was hard to go unnoticed with lavender eyes, so I mostly laid low once I fed my thirst to learn. I worked in all sorts of places, building the Eiffel tower, lighting lamps on the streets of London, a chef in Italy ( I make the best pasta in the world). I did grow very wealthy, I was never very materialistic so I never spent money. I prefered to work for each meal hunting as my animal. I could take in more nutrience and stay healthier eating completely transformed ( plus I didnt have to cook anything Win). Banks were a huge help also being such a long time member of the same bank I had a huge intrest rate on my savings account. When world war 1 broke out I traveled to America, the Nazis were obsessed with finding a supernatural advantage in the war and I figured it was time to switch continents. I started out in Boston as an editor of a news paper. From there I went to Detroit and assembled automobiles. After that I worked in Lawrence, Kansas as a mechanic. Then I made my way to Colorado and I just hiked the moutains. Eventualy I found myself in a town called Beacon Hills, the supernatural ran amuck there, and I decided to help maintain the balance. The last of Its kind a phoenix; was tipping the scales to chaos.

Only comming out at night the creature was blood thirsty and out of control. The first time I caught the scent of a Phoenix the aroma was salivating, no wonder they were going extinct. One extremely hot Californian night the Phoenix lurked in the shadows of the empty streets, waiting for its prey, not realizing that it was indeed the prey. A group of children crossed the dimly lit street, a group of preteen boys. One was carrying a comic book; Captain America first edition. The other boys wanted it from him. The Phoenix was keen on following these five boys, “Stiles! just let us see it for a second!”, one boy wined “ No you will only wreck it,” the smallest skinny boy argued. I felt a small connection with the weak boy, you always had a soft spot for the weak. Then it hit me, preditors picked off the weakest in the pack first, the Phoenix was going after this small boy. Anger flowed freely through you, its not fair that this small boy was going to be killed by this demonic creature purely for the fun of it. You had been lost in your anger you failed to notice the other four boys left the small one alone. The street empty all except the boy, the phoenix, and you. The boy sat down on the sidewalk opening the comic book, there was a small smile on his face. The Phoenix stepped out of the shadows, his hiddeous burned body hobbled grotesquely towards the boy, its orange eyes burned with hunger, its pace quickened as he neared the boy. The dragging of the Phoenix’s feet caught the boys attention and he looked up to see the demon just feet away from him, so shocked he couldnt scream. I lept out from the darkness hiding me, my body between the boy and the Beast. The Phoenix gave out a startled screech and stumbled backwards. I placed my hands on either side of the monsters distorted burned face, my hands instantly bursting into flames. Without hesitation I sunk my nails into its skull staring strait into its eyes as the life left its body and it fell limp in my burning hands, I ripped the gland swiftly out and popped it into my mouth like a piece of gum. I dropped the Phoenix and my own body burst into flames, and quickly extinguished, like a wave or surge of energy. The boy was frozen to the sidewalk. The clothes on my body burned away and I stood there naked infront of this child. The child was shaking with fear, “ hey, hey, hey its okay, youre alright, youre okay whats your name hon”, I crouched infront of the boy and cupped his face wipeing tears away, he seemed to calm down “E-Elias S-St-St” he couldnt get the words out “Elias youre okay, youre safe” He nodded his head spasticly making me laugh. “ T-thank you, for saving my life, a-are you an angel?” I felt something stir within me, and I smiled warmly at Elias “ yeh should head home Elias, yeh shouldnt be out here alone hon” Elias’ smile fell and I knew something was wrong “ Do Yeh want me to take yeh home?” he gave me a small sad smile and nodded slightly “Okay wee lamb c'mon” you stood up and held your hand out to the boy and he took it without hesitation. Elias took me home like a puppy he found on the street, no one was in his home. He gave me some of what I think were his own clothes. I was about to ask him where his parents were when the front door flew open and a heavly intoxicated man flopped onto the floor with a thud “Where are you, you little fucker” the man mumbled under his breath. He lifted his head and his eyes met yours “ Hello Sir, my name is Y/N and I found your son alone in town” the man stood showing he was at least twice my size, “ That little shit is not my son” the anger returned flowing freely making my body glow red hot “where are his parents then” the man scoffed at me “ the little fucker didnt tell you that his parents are dead and that he’s being raised by his uncle?” he looked at the boy and raised his hand to smack Elias. Your hand shot out and gripped his throat tightly he gasped “ If yeh ever lay a finger on him” you lifted him off the ground “ I will know and yeh will pay” you released him and he fell to the floor gasping for air. I left that home confident Elias would be treated well.

The Phoenix pineal gland gave you an afinity for fire, problem was that fire reacted to your emotions especialy anger. And you now had an alternate animal, you had semi turned, full animal and then beast mode. Your full animal had been changed if that was possible, you were no longer a lioness, you were a Tigress. Half turned you had tiger like features, and embarassingly enough you had a tail. Beast mode was horrifying it was a tiger jacked up and completely on fire with blazing violet eyes. However you had complete and full control over all of them.

I traveled around America but I always ended up in Beacon Hills.

I dont know what I wanted to find there but I had a gravitational pull to something. I passed through Beacon Hills many times, a great alpha lived there and I often asked her for advice, as the years passed and I did not age, the great alpha asked me how I came to be, she found my truth broke her heart, she offered me her home. I accepted, Talia was intrigued by my apparent immortality, my ‘condition’ facinated her and her emissary they attempted to classify me, but given my ‘condition’ could change at any moment they never did. When Talia took me in when she was pregnant with her second child, Talia and I became great friends, she felt like a sister to me. And her children felt like they were almost my own. I protected her kids from everything especially her strange brother. Sometime after Cora was born the Hale house filled with Hales, I felt a little claustrophobic, Talia was very understanding when I left. I traveled to Canada, when I came back a few years later, she was gone, all the Hales were gone. All dead. The pain of looseing my only real family led me to find outlets, I slaughtered at will. Anything I came across that was evil I killed. Killing was the only thing that satisfyed my acheing heart, it made me more animal than human, and when I made my way back to Beacon Hills, thats what I was; an animal running on instinct alone. Untill I met a True Alpha, Scott McCall. He save my human soul, and so did Stiles. I was there to kill Meridith, who led me to Lydia, who Scott and Stiles protected.

Flash Back to You trying to kill Lydia: I had the tiny strawberry blonde girl pinned beneath me. I was half changed but not fully changed yet to “beast” mode. She was panting beneath me, I had my claws on her throat ready to end it all my tail whipped excitedly around my legs. A strong, powerful roar came from behind me. I slammed the girls head into the ground to knock her out, and turned to face this obstacle. An arrow hit my shoulder as soon as I stood up. I fully changed into the beast and the children infront of me stared in horror. The arrow in my shoulder burst into flames and melted away. The one who roared at me shifted back to human and stared at me frightened “L-look we don’t know you, but could you maybe not kill our friend” my Violet eyes shifted to the lanky boy who had the balls to ask me this. My heart pounded as I looked into the warm brown eyes and I knew. I imprinted on him. I shifted back completely, I stood there shocked and naked ( full beast mode burned my clothes), the girl who shot me rushed past me to Lydia and the boys sheilded their eyes. It all hit me at once I was a monster, I dropped to my knees and sobbed, I though about all the people and things I killed. I thought of Talia; my sister, how ashamed she would be of me. I pictured my mother I didnt know what she looked like but I knew she would be ashamed of me. A blanket covered my shoulders and the boy who roared crouched in front of me. “ Hey whats your name?” he treated me like a hurt puppy “Y/N” I mumbled “Y/N its okay we all loose control sometimes” I nodded my head slowly not meeting his eyes “ Im Scott, this is Stiles, Allison and you already met Lydia..” I looked over at the Banshee ashamed I stood gripping at the blanket around me, Scott moved to block me, but I didnt stop and he moved out of my way. I crouched next to Lydia I took her hand in mine. Black ran from her veins to mine and the swell on the back of her head disapeared. Lydias eyes shot open just in time to see me hit the floor. I dreamed of Stiles, just his touch, him holding me, placing soft kisses on me, saying my name… When I came to I had no idea where I was. It was a boys room thats for sure, and the whole area reeked of Stiles scent, Stiles room? Why am I in Stiles room? I should be lieing in a empty parking lot where I had attacked Lydia… Voices down staires caught my attention “ WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BRING HER!?!?!” -Lydia “We couldnt leave her there!”-Allison “SHE TRIED TO KILL ME!”-Lydia “We know but we also need to know what she did to you”- Scott “SHE SLAMMED MY HEAD INTO THE CONCRETE”-Lydia “Calm down Lydia you’re okay she reversed it”- Stiles “CALM DOWN?!?! YOU CALM DOWN I AM THE DEFINITION OF CALM!”-Lydia “Lydia, we dont know what Y/N is and we have to find out before something bad- er I mean worse happens”-Scott “Y/N IS A KILLER!”-Lydia “She also saved you somehow and we would like to know how she did that and where she came from and if shes going to kill all of us.. why did we bring her here if she might kill us all?”-Stiles “I dont think she’s going to kill anyone, did you see the way she looked at Stiles?”-Allison “What do you mean Allison?” - Scott “It was like she saw something, she was shocked to see”-Allison “I am very Handsome, Irrisitable, suave, dashing, sexy…”-Stiles *punching noise* “OOOOWWWW WHAT WAS THAT FOR!?”-Stiles “You would have gone on all day mister”-Lydia I let out a tiny growel at the sound of Stiles being hurt “SSsshh! I think shes awake”-Scott I evened out my breathing and slowed down my heart beat to sleeping standards “False alarm I guess I heard something else…”-Scott *knocking on door* “Its open!”-Stiles “Sorry we’re late, someone had to stop for chicken nuggets”-Derek “Totally worth it”-Isaac with his mouth full *laughs* “ So whats happend exactly?’-Derek *shuffleing noise* “Hey!”-Isaac *eating noises* “Those are my nuggets! Stiles!”-Isaac *Stiles chokes slightly on too many nuggets in mouth* “We… er Lydia discovered a new creature…”- Scott “HELL YEAH LYDIA DISCOVERED IT”-Lydia “It also tried to kill her”-Allison “Why did it try to kill Lydia?”-Isaac “We dont really know much about it yet, but what we do know is: it has purple eyes; lavander when human, bright purple when changed…”-Scott “When changed it looks like a freaken Tiger on steroids”-Stiles “Yeah she had stripes and a tail and everything she took a full animal form and a partial animal form, resembling a tiger..”-Allison “SHE?’-Derek “Yeah, SHE looked like a regular teenage girl when she first approched me”-Lydia “How did you stop it?”-Derek “Stiles stopped it….”-Allison “How did Stiles stop it ?”- Derek “Hey Im not totally useless! I reasoned with it-er Her… Y/N”-Stiles “ Yeah he said something to Y/N and she looked at him with her glowing purple eyes and changed back to human… huh I guess it was pretty lucky”-Scott “Well where is Y/N now?” -Derek “upstairs”-Stiles “WHAT?”-Derek “THATS WHAT I SAID”-Lydia “ How do you know she can be trusted?!”-Derek “ Because she healed Lydia”-Scott “Healed? like how?”-Derek “She had attacked Lydia, she smashed her skull in… bad. Y/N took her hand, and healed her, there is nothing wrong with Lydia now, she was almost dead when we got to her!”-Stiles *silence* “I was?”-Lydia “yeah”-Allison*crying* “She saved me?”-Lydia*crying* “yeah”-Scott “Thats incredable… she practiacly brought you back from the dead… I’ve only seen that once, when I was young… but it cant be! You said she looked like a teenager… Right?”-Derek “Yeah she looks really young like 16 maybe”-Stiles “Why dont we just ask her?”-Isaac Shit “Stiles do you want to see if shes up?”-Allison “Sure… If I scream come and save my sweet ass please.”-Stiles Fuckkk *footsteps* I decided to pretent to sleep, the bedroom door opened Stiles tripped on something trying to be quiet and I couldnt help the giggle that escaped my lips, “You awake?” Stiles sat down on his bed and shook my shoulder, “No, I laugh at random things in my sleep”. Stiles laughed at my sarcasm. “Hey um Y/N if you dont mind the pack would like to talk to you … about you.” Stiles choked when I sat up, evidently I was still naked. “ Um here” Stiles stood up and rumaged around for a littl bit then offered me a giant sweat shirt and some giant sweat pants. “thanks, and sure Ill talk” I stood up completely to take the clothes from Stiles, his eyes traveled down my body hungrly. He handed me the clothes and licked his lips, our eyes met and my heart stopped for a fraction of a second. A strong impulse to kiss him flooded over me and I stepped closer to Stiles. Stiles stepped back, the one movement shattered my heart. I played off my action by stepping into the sweat pants, I guess I am going Commando.

Downstairs was a party; everyone was talking and laughing. It had been so long since I’d seen a gathering like this everyone smileing and happy it made my heart ache for a family. As soon as I came into view everyone stopped talking. Stiles walked past me to stand with his pack. Everyones eyes were on me, and I was drowning in Stiles clothes. “Y/N?” Derek stepped closer. I looked at the aged boy, instinct took over and I approached the young man. I grabbed his face and turned it every witch way examining his features like I used to when he was a child and his older family members picked on him and hurt him he would cry for me first then his mother, because I would punish whomever hurt him, his mother was against violence. “ you’ve grown wee lamb”, I smiled at him my little Derek all grown, and fully evolved like his mother. A tear ran down Dereks cheek and I wiped it away “eh don cry babe” I wrapped Derek in my arms, he hugged me back emotionally. I looked around at everyone stairing at us confused. When we broke our embrace Derek looked around the room embarassed. “ uh um Y/N is family … ” everyone turned to look at me. “ I helped raise him and his sisters, his mother was an important alpha and sometimes that was more important than wipeing asses Yeh?” Derek chuckled “ Y/N you havent changed….” another tear escaped his eye and I reached out and wiped it away again, embarassing him. Derek smiled a big smile, but then his brow furrowed and his smile disapeared “You havent changed” Derek stepped away from me.“ alright does one of you want to explain?” Isaac looked between Derek and I. “ Why havent you changed?” Derek accused me. “Your mother never told yeh about me? All those years I was just Aunt Y/N? you never wondered why a nonHale lived in the Hale house?” Dereks face screwed up in confusion. “You’re not a Hale?” a pang of sadness peirced my heart “ I guess I am a monster, if your mother din’t tell yeh about me.” I dropped to my knees trying to control the sadness that hit me I pressed my palms to the floor to conduct some of the heat away from me. “She never told yeh who I am, where I came from, WHAT I am?” I kept my eyes on my hands to concentrait on not burning the house down “ What are you Y/N?” Derek attempted to take my hands before I could warn him his hands sissled from the heat. “ Derek m’ so sorry I should have warnd yeh” your hands cooled and you took his hands to heal them. “Im a werelion well I was born a werelion and I… circumstances… over time .. um … I guess now Im a weretiger”. damn thats hard to explain “ Why are you so hot?… you know what I mean” Derek helped me to my feet, shaking his head smileing to himself I giggled at his remark “theres really to much going on to explain it” I stood on my own not looking into anyones eyes. Suddenly the front door swung open and three girls and three boys entered the house laughing, but soon stopped when they saw the gathering before them. “ H-hey guys, we didnt get the pack meeting memo?” a small spikey haired boy wrapped his arm around a beautiful brown haired girl. “ who the hell are you?” the tallest girl sniffed the air her eyes glowed blue “ what the hell are you?” she adjusted the question “Malia this is Y/N, Y/N this is Malia, Kira, Mason, Corey, Liam, Hayden, Isaac, you know Derek, Allison, Lydia you met, Im Stiles and this is our alpha Scott, not preasent are Jackson, Peter, Theo, and Parrish.” Stiles pointed at each person, and stated their names. Heavy Chemosignals gave me a hint at each others ties. I raised my hand to wave ackwardly “ Hello” I shuffled in my spot now at the center of a circle of people. “ where are you from your voice sounds weird?”-Liam “Oh my gosh your eyes are purple!”-Hayden “why are you wearing Stiles clothes”-Malia “ How old are you?”- Mason “wow your hair is so long”- Corey “guys your freaking her out”- Derek “But seriously answer those questions”- Stiles holy fucken shit “um well I was born in Scotland, on the Isle of Skye. ehhhhumm my eyes turned lavender when I… when my …. Aunt … who raised me died. I dont know how old I am,” I answered as best I could Leaving out the eating of human flesh. “ wait how do you not know how old you are? ” Mason held up his hands and shook his head confused. “ um well I never really kept track of the years after I turned 100 that would have been around the time Pharaoh Khufu built his tomb.” I tried to concentrait on the significant events in my youth but many I knew were never recorded through history… “Khufu? who the hell is Khufu?” Isaac looked around for answers “ Khufu is the King of Egypt who commissioned the building of the Pyrimd of Giza” Lydia was staring at you with shock in her eyes “ that was approximately 6000 years ago” Lydia wispered to herself but everyone heard and everyone stared at me. “ How can you be 6000 years old?” Corey asked the question everyone was thinking, I held up my hands palms up and shrugged my shoulders “ It just sorta happend” that was my honest answer, I had no idea how I cheated death I just did. “ Can you help me with my History homework?” Liam made a joke to ease the tension and I let out a nervious laugh. “Ive done enough homework in my time I was just lucky Plato didnt believe in homework” I laught at the fond memory “ hold up Plato? as in the Greek god?” Scott looked at me like I was crazy and I just laughed at him “ No, Plato as in the Greek philosopher” I smiled at him apologetically “ Plato was my first teacher, Ive attended many collages since but none compare to Plato.” everyone was still processing your age and not listening, you could smell pizza in the fridge “ Is anyone going to eat the leftover pizza in the fridge? or can I just order pizza? Fuck I left my phone in my bag!” I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand frustrated at myself. “ You have a cell phone? ” Derek looked at you like you were his grandma “ Yes I have a cell phone, and a GED and a drivers license and a Debit card and a car” You started listing off the things that they would think you lacked. “ we have your bag.. we didnt look through it I swear” Scott handed you the nike back pack with most of your belongings in it. “ well .. you didnt look through it Scott but I may have” Stiles came clean even though I knew he had been through it his scent was inside my bag. I just laughed and shook my head and decided to be witty “ Kids these days ” I laughed a little to hard at my own joke. I dug around in the back pack and produced my phone “ why do you need a phone anyway?” someone asked “ the internet is the best thing to happen to the human and supernatural race” I smirked at my phone screen lighing up “ you literaly have no contacts in your phone” Stiles announced to everyone making your face heat up “ how did you know my pin?” your eyes met honey brown ones and you couldnt look away, something strange came over you and you felt like you would do anything Stiles said, without hesitation …. Oh yeah you Imprinted on him… you would die for him, I heard of Imprinting and to loose the object of imprinting is described as the most pain ever, so excruciating it drives one to suicide. Stiles’ words brought you back from the depths of his eyes “ I um looked at the smudges on your screen” l looked around at everyone surrounding me, probably the most people since the dark ages that knew what you were. It made you feel good, like maybe you had a chance to be apart of a pack, maybe. “how’d you know there was pizza in the fridge?” Scott held up a ziplock bag of pizza I smiled and took the cold pizza from him “ my sense of smell was heightened when…” I stopped myself taking this moment to shove the pizza in my mouth “ when what ” Stiles looked at me expectantly he suddenly seemed so familiar like I had met him before, I sat down at the kitchen table. “ when my eyes changed color” I spoke with my mouth half full “ when did your eyes change color?” Derek crossed his arms and furowed his eyebrows, I remembered the day perfectly it still hurt to think about “ when I was 20” I took another bite of pizza to excuse myself from talking. “ what color were your eyes before?” Hayden sat down across from me “ red” I polished off the rest of the pizza but I was still hungry “ I ment your human eye color” Hayden laughed “red” I repeated sitting back in the wooden chair. everyone looked confused “ Im an alpha, and my alpha power was so strong it made it impossible for me to stop the color from showing, also I was very young and not in control” my stomach grumbled “ so you dont know what your real eye color is?” Hayden looked sad for you but this was such a dumb thing to focus on. You laughed and shook your head looking down at the floor “ Im over 6000 years old and these are the questions you ask me” everyone looked like they had a realization. “Whats the coolest thing you’ve seen” Isaac tilted his head to the side and looked at you. You thought for a moment “ Probably have to be the Fairy pools before the Fairys were extinct, the Fairys were beautiful little entitys anything they touched they enchanted they couldnt help it pebbles would float freely in the air and randomly drop when the enchantment wore off. they would dance on the surface of the pools and the water would float through the air like there was no gravity, the flowers they touched glowed vibrant colors, It was beautiful, but then they were gone. You see fairies were used by the humans to kill supernatural creatures fairy blood was poison to every living thing” your heart hurt that these kids would never experience this kind of beauty “ C-can I see?” Scott approached you his hand out streched claws at the ready, a stray tear rolled down your cheek. I noded and turned so my neck was exposed to him. I was calm and when Scott sunk his claws in me I remained calm. I greeted Scott in my mind then I showed him everything, My mother, My aunt, the Fairies, Stone henge, the Phoenix, the Eiffel tower, Eygpt, my father, all the people I met all the things I had done. When Scott broke the bond everyone except Stiles was gone. Stiles had his head on the table a small puddle of drool formed by his face. “You’ve been through a lot, my life doesnt look that bad now” Scott and I laughed “please dont tell Stiles, or anyone I know what I did was wrong and Ill never do it again” I begged Scott “ Y/N , Its ok you never killed anyone innocent, besides I probably couldnt if I wanted to, you are definately a much stronger alpha than me" I frowned at him “ I killed my mother Scott” Scott looked at me narrowing his eyes then scoffing and shaking his head “ You didnt do it on purpose you were only a child” he gave me a genuine smile and hugged me. slowly I hugged him back, this is the person who will know me the best probably ever. Scott left me alone with Stiles knowing it was the safest place for him. And the best choice for me to stay. I was fully rested and not tired at all it was about 3 am. I picked up Stiles cradling him in my arms I carried him upstairs to his room. I laid Stiles down on his bed and pulled his comforter over him. Like a mom I looked back at him and switched off his bedroom light and closed the door. I headed down stairs to find something to do. I made my way quietly around the house, cleaning up. I started some laundry, emptied the dish washer swept up. By the time the house was in perfect order it was 3:45 am. I sighed leting out a little frustraited groan. I found the door to the garage, maybe there was something for me to clean out here. I pulled open the door and there it was a classic 1980 CJ5. I ran my hand over the blue paint remembering the last time I had touched one. The last time you rode In a Jeep: Napalm filled the air around my squad. “ Sergeant! we need cover!” one of my solders called out “ Shut the fuck up, get down and stay put!” I barked at my solders as I sprinted ahead of where we needed to be. We had been on foot for 7 weeks and completely exhaused. All gunfire was directed at me, I scaled a tree in record time throwing the charlie positoned there to the ground. I positoned myself now able to see all the Dac Cong targeting my men, one bullet each was all it took. The fireing ceased. I hopped down and trudged back to my squad of 7 men. These men knew me as Sargent Noah O'Mally, my hair was buzzed and my breasts hidden under my uniform I kept as dirty as I could to seem more manly. “ Brumly that is not the spot you were in when I left” a short stocky brown haired boy scowled at me and I laughed “ We keep moving” I directed the boys forward. My squad was made of Oliver ��Brah’ Brumly, Eugene ‘Gene’ Friemuth, Justin ‘Farmer’ Young, Elias ‘Stiles’ Stilinski, Anthony ‘Tony’ Peirce, Wayne ‘Wiener’ Fox and James ‘Jimmy’ Thornton. The men called me Ma'am, I was the only Sergent who found it humorus, so I was the only Seargent called Ma'am. Every single one of my men made it out of that hell hole. When the war ended we radioed our positon and a chopper took us out of combat. Then from the landing they put us in a Jeep to bring us back to base. Before any Jeep left the country I was in charge of checking for bombs and maintanence.

I hadent realised what I was doing until my eyes settled on a nightmare of ducktape. I had opened the hood and was met by a sad excuse for a motor. “ well I have all morning” and I got to work. About 11O'clock I had most of the motor and transmission taken apart and put back together and back in the jeep with new components and peices, I was just finishing up puting on a new cold air intake when the garage door opened “ Im telling you Scott shes not here and all her stuff is here!” I tightened the last nut and looked up at Stiles his face was shocked. I put the socket and wrench back in the tool box and shut the hood “keys?” I looked at Stiles and held out my hand expectantly. Insted of tossing me the keys he licked his lips angrly and stomped like a child over to the drivers side of the jeep and flung open the door, the jeep started on the first turn over and purred to life. Siles looked suprised and absolutly shocked. I smirked at him and started walking to the door. Stiles flew out of the jeep and whipped open the hood his eyes darted around the motor in disbelif. I wandered into the house and flopped down onto the couch and closed my eyes. I felt Stiles enter the room “uhhuhh um th-thank you ” I peeked one eye open to look at him “for what?” I closed my eyes and began to roll off the couch turning into my tiger and landing on all fours “whoa that was cool um thank you for fixing the jeep… ” I padded towards him purring I rubbed aginst his leg like a cat Stiles reached down and scrached my head like a pet and suprisingly it felt good. He pet me for a few more minutes, the front door opened and Stiles Father walked into the house. The sheriff dropped his keys “ Stiles” Stiles head whipped around “Dad! uh this is Y/N ” the sheriff backed up against the front door. I yawned and patted towards the sheriff and mid stride I shifted to human and held out my hand “ Hello sir Im Y/N” I flashed him my purple eyes and he took my hand “Noah” he limply shook my hand “ and you are what?” Noah added I held back my laugh “ Im a weretiger hybrid” the sheriff was still up against the front door “Dad its ok shes friendly” Stiles joked. “She fixed the Jeep” he added and the sheriff seemed to calm down “Really? where did you learn about fixing cars?” Noah stepped away from the door “ I learned about fixing Jeeps in Vietnam” Noah had just picked up his keys and redropped them “ In what” Noahs eyes crinkled “ Dad, um Y/N is over 6,000 years old” Stiles picked up the keys and placed them on the kitchen table. “ Stiles can I talk to you alone?” the sheriff pulled stiles down the hallway and I took that as my que. I hopped out the front door and started walking down the street. I slung my back pack over my shoulder sniffing the air a thought entered my mind randomly just a name Im not sure why but just the name Claudia was all I could think.

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