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wangxianficfinder · 3 months ago

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Fic Finder

Nov 9th

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1. I'm looking for a fic that I swear I bookmarked！It's a modern AU where WWX has been dead for (13?) years in a world where people are starting to spontaneously resurrect from the dead (in a not zombie way). He finds his way back to LWJ and A-Yuan. I think near the end of the fic they get news that JYL has also been revived. @needleinthenonsense

FOUND!🔒💖 sudden nature series by everbrighter (M, 97k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, 5+1, family feels, parenthood, teenage rebellion, past character death, resurrection, pining, domestic fluff, angst, happy ending)

NOT FOUND!🔒care by everbrighter (T, 35k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, modern w/ magic, resurrection, family bonding, getting to know each other, past character death, pining)

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2. Hi!! This is my first time using Tumblr so I hope I’m doing this right… I read a fic (Ao3) where Lan Zhan was getting rid of a water spirit in the lake in Caiyi city (i think). Wei Yīng said something dirty and LWJ was going to retort when he was sucked underwater. He thought he was gonna die but soon got caught under like this wheel thingy where he was pulled up and his shoulder dislocated. He had wounds and was only saved thx to WWX using demonic cultivation. I have some screenshots if needed! @plumblossom-15339

FOUND? As Spring Will Surely Come by silver_sun (E, 38k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Lan Family Feels, Bottom LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt LWJ, depression - LXC, Near Drowning, Sick LWJ, sick LQR, LXC in Seclusion, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Bath Sex, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, everyone gets a happy/hopefully ending, Night Hunts, kind of slice of life vibes, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, traumatic memory related flashback - LWJ, it's battle of nightless city related - warning will be on specific chapter)

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3. Hello, lovely people! I'm desperately looking for a fic I read in February, where lwj gets himself stuck as a bunny and iirc wwx is hired by lxc to bunnysit and because wwx had nowhere to live he was happy to accept. It might have been modern with cultivation. All I have is this quote I sent my friend: "And then Wei Ying had accepted! Lan Zhan was so overwhelmed that, just for a moment, his rabbit body took over, and he’d ended up doing a binky." Pls help!

NOT FOUND!🔒💖 blue-ribbon bunny by cicer (G, 15k, wangxian, modern, shapeshifting, supernatural elements, fluff & humor)

FOUND! the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, WangXian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

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4. I'm looking for a fic where the lan and possibly the nie fought a war with the Jiang and jin and WY was one of the Jiang commanders. The Jiang lose and WY and LZ enter into a relationship. I remember a scene where the Jiang were on trial after the war and WY noted that JC looked shocked that he's being prosecuted possibly for war crimes @maryam25

FOUND? 🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)

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5. Hello, thank you for your hard work 🙏 I'm looking for a fic where Wen Qing poisons Wen Ruohan, Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu and Wang Lingjiao with berries that induce Qi deviation. Basically everyone but Wen Xu, who is in love with his brother's wife, because WRH punished him by having her marry WC. And I think instead of assuming leadership of the Wen sect he leaves with her. That's all I can remember. Thank you so much!

Hello, thank you for your hard work! For Nov 9th no. 5 was mine, sadly it's not the fic I was looking for. It might have been time travel? I'm not sure. Definitely no transmigration though. Thank you anyway for looking.

NOT FOUND! The Teenage Girl's Self-Saving System by mercyandmagic (T, 108k, WLJ/WC, WLJ/NMJ, wangxian, XiYao, XuanLi, ChengQing, OC main character, transmigration, everyone’s least fave characer gets character development!)

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6. hello! thankyou so much for you hard work. please help me find a fic that i've been looking for days now, in this fic wwx and lwj time went back to time as kids, as far as i remember they had their memories with them and both of their parents are alive in here. kid wwx told his parents to go to gusu, and when they went, he was greeted by kid lwj who remembered him and hugged him (lwj's family was shocked because their non affectionate boy was hugging someone) pls pls help me find it

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7. Hello! I was hoping you could help me find a fic, I don’t remember much of it. But i remember it took place during wei yings time in gusu in the cloud recess arc. i could be wrong on some details but from my memory it has the lans finding out about some negative aspect of wei yings life in yunmeng and the abusive treatment he dealt with. he is then welcome in cloud recesss bc they see how smart and kind he is. i remember specifically there was an oc that was a lan elder who was very un-lan like. he was very loud very much what u would expect from a character that’s similar to wei ying. he became wei yings shifu so to speak. they would invent things together. they were both known for blowing up things a lot. the lan healers mentioned once how the jiang healers definitely knew about the abuse wei ying was subjected to. and that they would be bringing up them not living up to their duties as healers at a conference or something. and that not helping wei ying in the abusive situation was a major taboo amongst all the healers and there would be repercussions for that. i think they mention that wei ying is often in the back of cloud recess where all the elders lives. like he’s just always around that general area. it’s kind of jiang bashing and then also positive/protective lans. that’s all i can remember so sorry if that’s vague i just really enjoyed reading it and can’t find it for the life of me. thanks for any help u can give me!! and as always thanks so much for all ur hard work 💕💕💕

FOUND?🔒in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) the eccentric lan elder that teaches wwx shows up in ch 11

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8. Hello! I'm looking for a fic in which wwx is summoned back by xue yang instead of mo xuanyu and wwx runs around pretending to be xue yang but he actually managed to change xue yang body into his own and just wear a fake face. I think Jiang yanli was summoned back too by Qin su and was the one to make xue yang summon wwx into his body

FOUND? the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, wangxian, qingli, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))

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9. Hey!! It's been a while. I hope all of you are doing great.

I'm looking for this fic where Wei Wuxian is in an arranged marriage with Lan Wangji and the only significant thing I remember about it is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belonged to Lan Wangji's mother and he gets angry I think (?) Also, Wei Wuxian goes to Caiyi Town and comes back to apologize.

I'm so sorry. I know this isn't enough to go by, but this is all I recall. If you can find it, that would be great.

Thank you in advance. @poetic-writes

Hi! I'm number 9 on the latest fic finder. That fic rec is not the one I was looking for, but that fic is really good, and I'm thankful for whoever who assumed it was that particular one. As I mentioned in my ask is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belongs to Lan Wangji and the latter is really sad and says something rude to Wei Wuxian I think on the lines of him being as bad as everyone had said and it kind of takes away the spirit entirely from Wei Wuxian and the light in his eyes dim. Thank you again.

NOT FOUND!🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

I've read number nine before but I don't remember the name! i have more details tho: lan wangji says that wei ying is as bad as jiang cheng says! wei ying locks himself in a room and cries a lot

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10. oh lovely folk- please can you help me? for the next fic finder- i’m remembering a WY sent to marry royal(i believe) LW. Madame Yu whips him before he travels to capitol. Meng Yao has suspicions and leaves him locked in a room not knowing WY is injured. does this ring a bell?

NOT FOUND The Bloodthirsty Prince and his Bride by moss_enthusiast (M, 27k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending Violence, Anxiety, Royalty, Strangers to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Whipping, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Blood and Violence, Dark LWJ, Fluff, Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Shock, Anxiety Attacks) i am really unsure cause there is no Meng Yao as far as i remember, but this contains arranged marriage (where WY is sent instead of JYL ro marry prince LWJ) and highly abusive Madam Yu who whips WY a lot, and LWJ finds him hurt and passed out in the wedding bedroom after the ceremony. Recovery abd revenge included later.

FOUND!🔒The Imperial Compromise by shiroakuma (E, 61k, WIP, WangXian, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Royalty, YLLZ WWX, Concubine WWX, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Emperor LXC, everyone but LXC thinks WWX is to be his concubine, LXC Ships WangXian, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Intersex Omegas, Intersex Alphas, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort)

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11. I am back once again asking for your excellent help in finding a fic. It's an AU, where a previous emperor ordered Lan Zhan & Wei Ying to marry. Lan Zhan is an imperial official (in the tax department i think). There is a war with the Wen going on and Wei Ying is ordered off to fight. Everyone thinks WY is either dead or MIA, but when the war is won, LZ goes to oversees a prisoner exchange and finds WY who has been on a work gang in a mine all this time (with A-Yuan who he's adopted & Mo Xuanyu). I remember MianMian is the brilliant general on the winning side. You find out that LZ & WY basically fell in love right before WY got shipped off to war, so it's a happy reunion. Oh! Also, LZ writes very popular poetry under a pseudonym! Um...i remember that LZ bought WY a goat they called Amethyst because before he was disappeared WY wrote LZ expressing the wish for such a goat (LZ buys the whole herd in the end). Jiang Yanli and the Peacock are married and are the new empress and emperor. There's an epilogue or end note where the author gives info about how their life turned out - this is all in the 500s CE. As always, i can't remember the title or who the writer is, so HELP! Thank you so much!

FOUND! ❤️ Where the nightingales are singing, and a white moon beams. by Moominmammashandbag (M, 52k, wangixan, jin zixuan & lan wangji, no powers au, grief/mourning, aftermath of war, angst w/ happy ending, reunions, fluff & smut)

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12. I don't know if you still help finding fics about wanxian... but just in case, I would like to ask your help... I'm looking for a fic where wei wuxian and lan wangji are divorced, I think? and that lan wangji is a doctor and wei wuxian is like a secret agent or undercover agent with wein qing and wen ning. But then wei wuxian got shot at one of his undercover missions and as he was delirius and thought he was going to die anyway, he went to his ex husband's house and lan wangji, being a doctor fixes or provided first aid to wei wuxian. Turned out that lan wangji is still in love with him and they talk... it was not finished when I read it. But it was a good story full of angst... I hope you would bw able to help me find it.thank you in advance @etutb

FOUND? empty space beside me by scarletmoontears. I have a link but it doesn't work so I'm guessing the work was removed or locked. (I think it's removed, I logged in and clicked the link but still got the error message - Mod C)

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13. Hello! I've been pulling my hair out trying to find a wangxian fic. Unfortunately, I can't remember too much about it, but I believe it's a modern/university setting. The only scene I can remember is WWX going with LWJ to visit his uncle and brother. They live rather far and on a hill. LWJ doesn't visit often, and this visit is very tense between WWX and LQR. Something about past WWX doing to LWJ, or causing LWJ to get into trouble when they were younger. Anyway, LWJ then gets angry with his uncle about the treatment directed towards WWX. I also can't remember if baby a-yuan is in this fic and present during the visit, as sometimes fics blend together. I apologize if this isn't enough to go by, but I just randomly recalled this fic, and apparently, I did not bookmark it.

FOUND? ❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, wangxian, modern w magic, college/university au, fake/pretend relationship, single parent WWX, homophobia, light angst w/ happy ending, idiots to lovers, fluff)

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14. Hi. Im looking for a wangxian fic, where Wuxian had openly confessed to Wangji persistently until he dies in the seige. And then when he comes back in Mo Xuanyu's body, its wangji whose doing the confessing. Wuxian is sad sometimes, I think. @thatpantasticbitch

FOUND? When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX confesses early on, But canon still happens, LWJ starts confessing after, but the tables have turned, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ rejects WWX, Then gets rejected by WWX after, "Get Lost", Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

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15. For fic finder, there was one specific fic - it may have been part of a series? - and I believe it was likely on the longer end, and may have involved time travel? The part I’m looking for is that in either WQ or WY’s POV, it explicitly acknowledges that wq and wy coparented LSZ while in the BM. If it helps, I solely read canon dynamics! @lovelyiknow

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16. hello for fic finder im looking for a fic where jyl married wq's mom i think? it's also time travel iirc. ive tried finding it in my history but alas. id really appreciate the help, thank you!

FOUND! 死而无悔 (To Die Without Regret) series by liverbiver9 (T, 26k, JYL & WWX, JYL/OC, WN & WWX & WQ, WangXian, JYL & WN, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JYL-centric, POV JYL, Genderqueer WWX, Trans Male Character, Kid Fic, Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX is a Wen technically, Demonic Cultivation, Falling In Love, Assassination Attempt(s), WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, teen wangxian feature in the epilogue!, No Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Everybody Lives, except for WRH and his children, mentioned minor character death, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Trans WWX, Canonical Character Death, Time Travel Not A Fix-It, I make it kind of worse but kind of better?, YLLZ JYL, Demonic Cultivator JYL, Sect Leader JYL, Short & Sweet, Angst implied happy ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

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17. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian is in a zombie or apocalyptic setting. Wwx gets bitted and lwj is desperate to find a cure of some kind in a hospital but in the lwj has to kill wwx of smth like that. Thanksss!

FOUND? 🔒 when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)

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18. Hi, I forgot to bookmark this one but I remember that Wei wuxian lived but his soul was shattered like he was a lived but he wasn't acting like himself before and eventually he starts committing suicide and lan wangji was protecting him and caring for him until he successfully kill himself, lan wangji takes care of him for 13 years(it's and happy ending) @lanwuxian0725

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19. hi i was hoping u could find a fix for me i’m p sure it was like a dark!lz fic. i think he may have traveled back in time to protect wwx and stop his death. when he travels back he is in his own body as a child. and lan qiren is like freaked out by him bc lwj remembers how badly lan qiren treated wwx in the past so he’s like not rly trying to hard to seem normal or that he likes his family. but i think they take in wwx before jfm can and lan qiren in this environment rly likes wwx treats him rly well but bc lz freaks him out and is weirdly possessive of wwx lan qiren is like constantly scared for wwx and is like always keeping an eye on them. like kind of the opposite of canon he looks at lan zhen like he’s corrupting his favorite student (wwx). the whole fic lan zhan is like obsessed with wei ying in a way that is like scary to everyone else (except wwx). i don’t rly remember more then that. hopefully someone can help me out i keep thinking about this and can’t find it. i rly need to learn to bookmark things. pretty sure it was from lan zhans perspective but i could be wrong. thank u sm hope everyone’s having a good day today!! 💕

NOT FOUND A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

FOUND! 🔒Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

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20. hi i’m trying to find a fic i read once where wwx stays in all the different sects for like a season or something on behalf of his sect to prove he isn’t like a danger to the cultivation world. it may have been multiple chapters but he goes to all of them and helps in various ways. i believe it was after the war in his first life. back when everyone was scared of him. sorry if that’s not enough info i can’t remember anything else tbh thanks for ur help 🥺

FOUND? Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

FOUND? The "Patriarch" Was Supposed to be Ironic (or, Wei Wuxian, Chief Cultivator) by groignequi (E, 51k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC/NHS/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, jiang friendly, Not Everyone Dies, Really Most People Live (Except JGS), Chief Cultivator WWX, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, sort of (at a canon-typical wangxian level), Dom/sub Undertones, Protective Siblings, Nonbinary NHS, POV Multiple)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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chaserainbows · 4 months ago

Note

✔

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!

My muse(s): Mindy, Sidney, Anabel

I see the vision for Mindy+Altra interactions because there's the potential for a funny contrast between them since Altra's more serious and responsible while Mindy is of course a terrifying evil scammer but also very cheerful and silly (and also one of them is a terrifying chimeric abomination and it's probably not Mindy), and with Anabel there's the potential for something more serious and plot-driven because she investigates basically the Pokémon equivalent of cryptids and SCP entities so there could be some conflict or drama with Altra not being Quite Human(tm)

the main thing that makes me a little hesitant about anabel is that i don't want to put her in a position where she's like the big bad cackling villain that should get clowned on which isn't something i think you specifically would do but a bitch is vigilant and so she would require a lot more plotting than mindy

Sidney is also an option because I think they could be a fun duo but I'm still cooking about how to include him in the Altraverse in a way that doesn't clash with the tone

Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

I'm a nosy bitch so I definitely like to read about Altra to understand his character and we have some interactions going on with him and Nico so I have a pretty good idea of who he is but of course I would always like to know more about him

altra's an oc but i don't think that's a problem to understand his character, even the canon characters have made up elements when people play them

Our verses don't really contradict each other so the setting isn't really a big Thing to worry about

AUs could be fun later down the line but especially for first interactions with these characters I think we should hold off on them a little

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Altra's just the kind of character that makes a lot of sense to be meeting people for the first time in threads, I think that adds to his charm

#ooc #splicedskies #meme reply

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 1 year ago

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M Rated Fics Masterlist (19)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 /

Created: November 21st, 2023

Last Checked:------

A Blessing In Disguise-cd291104 (ff.net)

Summary: Modern AU/OOC. Kat and Peeta have been best friends for years. They both have difficulty with relationships. After a break up and with the help of tequila the friends find themselves crossing a line. The next morning they agree to pretend it never happened but that becomes impossible once Katniss finds out she's pregnant. Where do they go from here? Rated M for language and lemons.

At the Peak-maddmaddworld (AO3)

Summary: Katniss Everdeen moved to Summit County to work with her mentor and study the geology of the Rocky Mountains. She never expected to meet a sweet, shy snowboard instructor who would turn her first winter in Colorado upside down.

Let It Happen On Its Own-RannonAce8 (AO3)

Summary: Set between the victory tour and quarter quell. Katniss and Peeta are still sharing a bed and things get heated when Mrs. Everdeen catches them prompting some awkward sex talks from her as well as Haymitch. At least they get some good advice before their first time.

Lights Out-maddmaddworld (AO3)

Summary: Katniss & Peeta have a very enjoyable power outage.

Listener Line-GobletGirl (AO3)

Summary: Katniss's sudden realization that she's in love with her best friend makes her do something that will force her to tell him. What will happen when she finally tells him? Will he return her feelings or will she lose her best friend?

Misconception-GobletGirl (AO3)

Summary: Katniss gets the project of a lifetime at work but what happens when the one person she never expects is also working on the project?

Spare Keys-juststella, katnissdoesnotfollowback (AO3)

Summary: Katniss crashes drunk on what she believes is her best friend's couch. Modern AU.

The Fire Beneath-DustWriter (ff.net)

Summary: A mine collapse in Pennsylvania coal country takes the leg of the baker's son. The miner's daughter runs away. Can the passing months, weeks, days and minutes bring them back together? Everyone gets a second chance.

Too Precious for this World-Wildharp (AO3)

Summary: Katniss and Gale are siblings left to carry on their father’s legacy of hunting supernatural beings and protecting humanity from dangers unbeknownst to the general population. When Katniss is cursed there is only one man who can save her, Peeta Mellark, a kind, virginal baker who wants nothing to do with the beautiful hunter. A Supernatural/Hunger Games crossover

You Deserve This-everlarktoast (AO3)

Summary: Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne have been dating for five years. When their relationship hits rock bottom and leaves Katniss in pieces, Gale's roommate, Peeta Mellark saves the day. TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm, anxiety attacks and domestic violence.

#m #masterlist #thg #thg fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #everlark #m masterlist

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gyokujyn · 1 year ago

Note

Lost Boy!!

For WIP Game

This is a modern fantasy Supernatural AU set in a world where supernatural creatures are real, but rare. Sam went missing investigating a business where fake supernatural creatures of various kinds are being pawned off as real. Dean poses as an interested buyer to try to find his brother, but soon learns that some of the creatures of the menagerie are very real and very dangerous and the menagerie protects its own secrets, drawing Dean into a world he doesn't actually know how to escape from--a sort of Alice in Wonderland meets Dante's Inferno. Here's an excerpt from very early on in the story:

"Who are you looking for?”

Dean glanced over his shoulder at the voice, turning slowly to see soft, auburn hair spilling round a pale, trim face. Anna, he remembered, the one he’d been warned off of by Jessica. Hazel eyes, too big for her innocent face, stared up at him.

Surreptitiously, he glanced around, but they were alone in the gallery, “Sorry, what?”

“He said you were looking for someone, but he didn’t say who,” she started, quickly, hardly even stopping for breath as she glanced down, fidgeting with her fingers, “Well, no, he didn’t say that, exactly, he said, I mean, he doesn’t say much, but when he wants me to know, I do and he said, that he wants, I mean, what he wanted me to say was–” she paused, took a small breath, and looked back up into his eyes purposefully. “He wants me to tell you that you can find the man you’re searching for, if you’re brave.”

Dean blinked.

Had he been discovered?

Or, was this girl just bat shit fucking crazy?

He glanced around the room, again, sure that someone must be watching this exchange, biding their time to catch him exposing his real mission. But, save for himself and Anna, the gallery was empty, the doors still barred for the night. He found his eyes back on the girl, unsure and unsteady. Anna merely stared at him earnestly, blinking those huge eyes and waiting for him to respond.

A few more moments passed before Dean finally scoffed, “Who?”

It was as if a dam had broken, the words spilling out of her, “He didn’t tell me who–I mean, he didn’t tell me anything, but I heard him and I heard that you would find him. He was quite sure–you could find him if you were brave. That was very clear.” As if to underscore the point, she nodded.

“No, no,” Dean muttered, shaking his head, freckled brows knitting as he pinched the bridge of his nose and gathered his thoughts with a sigh, “I mean, who–I was asking who told you that?”

“Oh,” Anna said, simply. She looked over her shoulder with a tender smile. “He did.”

Dean followed her gaze to the far edge of the room, beside the main stage, where cold iron bars held the menagerie’s mute angel. Dean often forgot about him, still and silent as he kept. Even now, he stood in the center of his cage perfectly poised–like a statue–dressed as always in a white linen perizoma with the finest silver chain Dean’d ever seen wrapped around his waist. His chest did not rise nor fall with breath, his coal black wings pinched painfully between the floor and ceiling of his tiny cell, bent and stooped from strain. The pitch colored feathers pressed haphazardly against the wooden planks at his feet and stuck out of the bars that crossed over his head, as unruly and unkempt as the mess of almost-black hair atop his head. His hands made the only movement Dean could see, fists clenching and unclenching almost imperceptibly at his sides, blue eyes burning brightly straight through Dean. As Dean’s eyes met his blistering gaze, the angel tipped his head slowly to the side, like a bird. No, Dean thought, like a raptor. A bird of prey, in whose sight Dean was squarely caught.

Unbidden, a chill ran down Dean’s spine.

“So, who are you looking for?” Dean dragged his eyes back to meet Anna’s hazel stare, as intent, if not as intense, as the angel’s.

“Hm? Um,” he scratched his forehead absently, suddenly happy to be looking anywhere but back into that cage. “N-no one–how do you even know about that?”

“See, I think people talk a lot around someone who doesn’t answer, I mean, when you’re so quiet, you hear a lot of other people because they don’t like to hear what they think about in the silence–have you noticed that? It’s probably why everyone’s so nice to me, I don’t make them think of all the things that people think about when it’s too quiet to hear anything but your own thoughts,” she smiled absently.

Dean laughed shortly, “Come again?"

“Well, you know, if you’re quiet, you can hear more than if you talk. That’s why Mother always says it’s a wonder I hear anything, but I hear him,” Anna smiled, red lips spreading wide.

“You hear the angel?”

She nodded.

“That’s gotta be a nice trick. He’s mute.”

“Just because he doesn’t talk doesn’t mean he can’t sing. I hear him sing in my head and I know why they call him an angel.”

Dean smirked. “You don’t think the wings might be part of it?”

“The wings are fake, but his voice is real and he sings in my head like heaven. He sings with the stars. I hear them. They burn and they die, but before that, they sing. All of them. All the angels.”

#wip game #jyn writes #lost boy

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subukunojess · 1 year ago

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Phantom Moth AU: A Mario and Rabbids Supernatural Adventure!

Hello. As I'm slowly getting back into writing, my hyperfixated brain has decided to focus on Mario and Rabbids content. Specifically Tom Phan/The Phantom. I knew of him years ago and how my mutuals and dash would bring him up. For Me, Phantom (while minor in comparison to my regular faves) definitely falls into the platonic self-indulgent bestie with benefits. He's the type of character my self insert would be friends with but can understand the appeal and will swoon if he tries anything.

I decided to create an AU for him since I seen a lot of creative AU's on my dash and I wanted to create something for future stories. I ran this by with @hostess-of-horror and I'm kind of surprised what I made up so far. Without further ado, here is the Phantom Moth AU.

How it is going to be made up: it will be on Archive of Our Own and cross-posted on here. While one-shots and the like will be a Reader fic, a multichapter fic would feature an OC as the MC. Couldn't decide between the two, so I did both.

More about the AU under the cut:

Content includes giant monsters, voice/sound powers, people/rabbids getting eaten, secret identities, betrayal, curses, transformations, possible slow burn, hypnotism/siren, bats, and much more!

This has been said to be like a blend of Hunger Games, Beauty and the Beast, and Shrek.

MC (reader/OC) is a gender-neutral small-time performer living in the city. In the world they live in, it is modern like our world in the daytime, but at night, giant monsters are said to roam under the ground or in the shadows.

While MC is not popular per se, they are talked about and they do have a small fanbase. They sing, dance, and even write when they get a chance.

They also have a rabbid oc companion named Otieno (He/Him) who serves as their bodyguard/advisor/agent.

One day, there's a rumor going around about a mysterious idol and performer named Tom Phan who is holding a contest for anyone (human, rabbid, or inbetween) to go on a date with him/perform with him and become a star. MC agrees to go to get the experience, try their shot, and meet new people.

The contestants (once going to a mysterious underground location) sign a contract and each performer goes to their own room, each having a wall in which only one side can see the other.

There are three rounds to the contest: Interview, Audition, and Performance. The first one is a voice (Tom Phan) asking questions and after doing so, the semi=finalists are chosen. The second involves a solo audition in private. Then the last round has the finalists coming out of their rooms and performing a song chosen by the group. Only then will Tom Phan choose his partner.

Two things make this contest complicated. One having to do with the MC. In their past, a jealous rival/bully had cursed them with dark magic, claiming that whatever would make their heart beat rapidly in a romantic sense, that will be the form they take for a limited time. For example, if MC saw a werewolf as a crush, they would either sprout ears and a tail or become half wolf depending on the intensity of the crush. For the most part, MC's curse does not activate as much if at all. When it does, the MC either does not notice or the effect lasts a few days or a week at best.

The second thing lies with Tom Phan. Thomas was once alive with dreams of being a star. However, upon his death, he became The Phantom, a giant ghost Rabbid/Bat with the power of voice and sound at his command and hankering for both love and prey.

Put those two things together and you get this: MC hears a soft yet smooth voice conversing with them and they get interested in getting to know him better. In reality, Tom Phan is going through each contestant's room like a giant cubby hole and using control on his volume. For the first round, he closed his eyes to judge on voice and answers alone. The second part, he did open his eyes and saw each solo audition. Up to this point, MC has not seen Tom Phan and thinks he's either a human or a rabbid.

Lo and behold, the finale begins, the wall opens up, the performers come out. Instead of anything else greeting them, MC sees a giant head with large ears and fangs to match. MC has a thing for giant monsters. Upon seeing Phantom, their body splits in two. The human body falls back asleep while the other part become half ghost.

Although the show must go on, MC freaks out not only because of their crush being a giant ghost bat monster who could devour them if he wants to, but that they are HALF-DEAD.

Meanwhile, the Phantom, seeing the MC that he had high hopes for suddenly becoming part ghost, gets excited, choosing MC as his partner.

The rest of the AU is somewhat of a slow-burn story with the MC coming to terms with the development, using their newfound powers to become a hero, and dealing with the side effects when bonding with a giant monster.

On Phantom's side of things, he not only has to decide whether to keep things as they are with MC or make it so they become a complete ghost monster and they will never leave him.

Monster stuff, monster fighting, sound-based powers, comedy, past histories, and consuming others are blended together to make this AU.

The reason for the name of the AU is because of the ghosts being the subject and MC's main monster form is part butterfly/moth in the beginning.

I'll do more specific information in a separate post. In the meantime, if anyone has any questions, feel free to ask! Thank you.

#mario and rabbids #alternate universe #mario and rabbids spark of hope #rabbid #phantom of the bwahpera #Tom Phan #Rabbid OC #OC #reader insert #OC: Otieno the Rabbid #giant #g/t #monster #bat #ghost #Phantom Moth AU #just a self indulgent AU I came up with #hoping to write when I get the chance

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umbrellamedic · 2 years ago

Note

✿ i am trying so hard not to send you so many memes

send me a ❛ ✿ ❜ and I’ll talk about our muses in some capacity ; be it a headcanon or a plot idea that I’d love to write! you fool; you absolute fool, you've played into my trap- answering memes only makes me happier! >:D

I love AUs, so here's some AU things that could be fun or painful:

Fantasy/Modern Fantasy/any kind of DnD, FF, WoW, YOU GET THE POINT type verse- they have some common goal to complete and the healer sent to accompany Carlos is actually a sadist who is OFFENDED she has a natural affinity for healing. She grew up wanted to be a powerful necromancer, but noooOOOooOOooOoo.

Obligatory Vampire au: A vampire and a hunter must team up to take down some bigger threat to them both- they can totally go back to being enemies after because they won't end up friends that'll be silly. BONUS POINTS: the pale European is not the vampire for once. everyone they come across who can sense the undead just assume it's her because stereotypes.

Post Raccoon City Shamelessly Citing Your Post: while searching for Nikolai, Carlos crosses paths with Shadoloo (NeoShadoloo; either works, whatever). they agree to fund and aid in his search but in return he works for them between following leads/works for them full time after he settles his score with Nikolai. On missions a certain blond is assigned to help him- she has NO CLUE who he is. Bonus: some kind of subplot thing where either Nikolai works for Shadoloo and they hide this fact from Carlos (they're gonna betray him and try to give him the old doll treatment anyways) OR they know where Nikolai is and don't give any of this info to Carlos. They'll pay for him following any leads he finds on his own, but they aren't gonna tell him shit because it's convenient for them to let him keep his memories for intel on Umbrella/BOW shit plot point... reasons... I JUST WANT TWO BROKEN EX-UMBRELLAS AND PAIN

More supernatural bullshit because I can't think of anything else in this moment apparently: Carlos needed a guardian angel to save his life; Michaela- recently kicked out of Heaven- needs a human soul to avoid ended up in Hell/to cloak her from Heaven. Now Carlos is stuck with a fallen angel who doesn't really get how Earth works, but is totally down to keep him alive for purely selfish reasons.

Remnant Remnant Remnant Remnant Remnant Re- Listen. Post-apocalypse; only a small group of heroes to save the world; a rag-tag team, each with their own reasons for putting their life on the line against the Root; discovering the mystery behind how the world went to shit; those are some nice glowing red crystals.... it would be a shame if... they made some assholes... immortal... a bigger shame if they're blindsided by this fact and find out in the most traumatic way possible... the brainrot. is strong. too strong.

#ubcs #i am but a SIMPLE FOOL who enjoys exploring how characters are in different settings #but i know not everyone is about the AU life so this is no pressure or anything!#i just think these would be neat #i'm not gonna say it's valid to disregard this BUT.... it's not invalid...#still on my bullshit

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timeloop-angel · 2 months ago

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Stories that i dreamt:

-Snow spirit who inhabited the body of a snowman was turned into a human by the Goddess of Beauty and is now like. Patron of Children and was also adopted by the royal family of thr country. Also since they were blessed by the Goddess of Beauty they are the Most Beautiful Person in the country and the Goddess accompanies them as a pink fairy.

The royal family of this country isn't based on bloodline, but rather based on individuals who are Children of The Gods (aka blessed by them). There is 9 children every generation and the gods are the greek Olympian gods.

There this blonde + red eyes crown prince who is pretty egocentric and thought that he was the most perfect begin but then saw the protagonist and was like "oh ig im the 2nd best then". Anyways hes friends with the protagonist and is a political ally.

The protagonist doesn't give a shit to politics nor understand it (i guess they're autistic?? Or at least coded as such)

Their personality is very cold, but they're also kind.

-An OI with the loveless contract marriage trope where a young girl was married to a very assholeish guy and Suffered. But instead of the girl turned back into the past or getting possessed, instead the girl performed a ritual to switch the guy's soul with his modern equivalent (who is nicer and good) because she wanted to extract revenge on him and her family without being accused of murder + be able to gain more power and also thru the modern guy POV we learn that the girl was actually more powerful and influential in the household behind the ogGuy backs and the employees are all loyal to her instead of him. Now he helps her, while also having this tense relationship with her since she hates ogGuy while also wanting to go back home. I think at some point she crosses to the modern world. Also i think at the end its reveled that the Modern Guy is actually an butch. So lesbian win!

-So. This is set in modern times. Uhh there this pink haired family, mother father and two children (one guy and one woman) + 4 pets. The children are already adults and the protagonists of the stories. The main pov in the first half is from guy. So. This is a very happy family, but then the Guy goes to sleep thinking about all the moments he regret and how he kinda wishes that have not happened. Then he wakes up to find that he is now in alternate timeline where the stuff didn't happen but also everything is Changed. His parents aren't the same, two of his pets aren't there anymore, his sister cut contact with the family too??? And they are twins and very close so now hes Distraught.

Tbh this dream is very confusing and i dont remember half of it. But basically he wants to go back to his timeline but then he met au!sister halfway through and she was rambling about how she lost him??? She was talking as if he was dead and Gone and at some point it seems like that was the case. That he was the one who left and not her but then the initial scene of him asking au!parents abt stuff and trying to convice them he is from other timeline doesn't make sense. Anyways. There this conflict of him staying in this timeline bc fuck isn't them his family too? And theyre very sad abt him being gone vs fuck i want the family *i* know back and my 2 pets and life too.

Then pov changes and we see au!sis pov and her suffering. And like its gets super confusing bc the timelines are kinda meshing together and it feels like she is aware of the 'og'timeline.

Idk i woke up so idk the resulution.

-this one i had today and uhhh yeah i cant remember msot of it bc i didn't write it doen after waking up :>

But basically. The protagonist is this girl who turned into a vampire? Or some sort of supernatural begin? Maybe she was a hunter before??? But now shes part of this household of horrors. Apparently there is romance between her and this vampire guy who is the leader of the household. There's a blond vampire as well and a purple haired girl who is like a secretary?? Who sort of helps the protagonist. It feels a lot like an OI game sort of thing.

There this romance between her and the vampire leader (who has black hair, red eyes. Cliche ik but at least he looked like a twink and v weak) + the blonde vampire who looked like a paladin and bit her lip and then kissed her???

The plot is abt she getting into the supernatural and learning the mystery of the household.

---

Thats it. I think there was more but i forgot. Anyways if any of you see this stuff being published under a pseudonym: no you didn't.

/j but yeah thats prob me and not some rando plagiarizing my dreams

Hey guys. Funfact. This past week my brain has been making made up stories and ocs in my dreams, non-stop.

I think its telling me to stop my writing hiatus already.

#🪐.txt #also the 1st story has the central of 'what is beauty?'

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 2 years ago

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Conversations over Coffee (Werewolf!Leo Demidov x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Werewolf AU, Modern AU

Pairing: Werewolf!Leo Demidov x Fem Human!Reader

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: None

Summary: A cup of coffee or tea has the power to bring people together. No matter their walks of life, there is a powerful magic in the small moment shared over a warm drink.

It was a cup of tea which made Leo decide to put his trust in you.

But it was over a cup of coffee he promised to stay.

Author’s Note: I had to rely on Google translator and do some cross-referencing across sites for the Russian used in this piece. If you see any mistakes, please let me know and I’ll immediately edit it out.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @hecatemoon87 @zablife @vir-tual @alikaheroes @dreamlandcreations @buttercup32sstuff @woofgocows @ilovemanypeople @liliac-dreamer @elijahssuit

TH Masterlist

Not all beginnings are easy, especially when it comes to being placed in an unknown environment. To be fair, I can’t blame him for reacting the way he did. After all, he’d been smuggled into the country after having spent months in a container.

However, I’m glad he’s at least talking now. Well, to me, that is. The staff of the shelter harbouring him and other fugitive Wolves couldn’t get so much as a peep out of him. Don’t misunderstand, they were all the same glad I signed up as supervisor for the WHO’s reintegration program. It is a government-funded program to reintegrate the supernatural into the mundane world without it causing any issues like witch trials and werewolf hunts.

I remember walking through the narrow hallways and the small rooms, bunk beds on either side with little space in between. The air was stale and musty. People had to almost squeeze past each other to get somewhere. It only made it all the more clear that immigrant housing isn’t a problem which only pertains to humans.

The staff member at my side, whose accent gave away he’s from Belfast, seemed to become more fidgety the closer we got to the room of the person I asked to be assigned to.

When we reached it, his breath tapered as he told me to be careful and he’d stand watch. The man I was to meet could be violent in his silence. Fights had frequently broken out, most of them started by others yet always won by Leo.

Won without getting so much as a small sound out of him.

I stepped into the room, shoulders squared and my chest puffed out with fake bravado. The key to dealing with a Wolf who might still prove to be Feral is to remain calm and collected. Like any other canine, they can smell fear so it’s crucial to have your nerves under control.

Leo sat in the corner of his bed, like a caged animal filled with nothing but distrust. His blue eyes were cold as ice, full lips hardly trying to suppress a scowl. I was to keep my distance. Any kind of provocation would be met with dire action. Fortunately, I had a powerful card to play.

I remained by the door, hands at my side to show I was unarmed. “Leo, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I suppose they’ve told you about me.’’

‘‘I know who you are,’’ he sneered, his surprisingly very good English underlined by the thick accent of his native tongue. ‘‘What do you want?’’

‘‘I understand you don’t trust me. Rightfully so, I wouldn’t either if I were you. But I own a fairly big cottage that feels quite empty, so I could do with some company.”

“So you choose a Russian killer, a former KGB agent?” He bared his teeth, fangs already protruded from his gums. “Vraki. You go back, da, return to your nice cottage and live happy. Loneliness makes person strong, you’ll see.”

“Does it?” I tilted my head, foolishly having decided to start playing with fire. “Because I see a man consumed by it before me and I don’t think it’s made him strong.”

Leo rose to his feet, half-succeeding in letting his muscular and imposing frame intimidate me. Then he leant in, close enough for his breath to ghost over my lips. A whiff of mint and cologne hit my nose. Later, I’d recognize the woody undertone as his aftershave. “I have no time for little girl games.”

“I’m not mucking about.”

“Leave.”

“There’s a lot of open terrain where I live. Lots of nature,” I said when he turned his back on me. In hindsight, I suppose the gesture meant he didn’t see me as a potential source of danger. Otherwise he’d kept his eyes on me while retreating. “You can run around freely.”

Now that caught his attention.

Slowly he turned back, enough to look at me over his shoulder.

“The Cotswolds is really nice. I live in a kind of remote area, but the people don’t really bat an eyelid when it comes to the supernatural. Okay, well, it still freaks them out, but chances are slim something will happen. No witch hunts, in any case.”

He leant in as before, taking me in. Or, rather, he was assessing me. Measuring how much of a threat I was, trying to find out whether I was bluffing or not. After all, the prospect of open terrain must’ve sounded heavenly compared to his holding cell of a room. “You are a funny woman.”

“How about we discuss things over a cup of tea? I’ll show you around the house, where you’ll have your own room of course. If you like it, I’d very much appreciate it if you stayed. If you don’t, well, who am I to keep you?”

I’ll be honest, I bribed him a little bit by offering him the lightest and largest room at the back of the house which provides a splendid view of the rolling fields stretching into the horizon.

And it worked.

He stayed.

The sound of the front door opening interrupts the silence, shortly followed by heavy footsteps in the hallway.

“Leo, that you?” I ask without looking up from the dishwasher.

“Da!”

“Had a good workout?”

“Mhm.”

“The others still listening?”

“Da, the pups still are very much aware who’s in charge.”

Leo has been working as an instructor at a boxing school for newly turned Wolves. There are a couple of humans among them, but they are in the know about the nature of their fellow boxers. Or they find out about it soon enough after accidentally getting knocked out because their sparring partner isn’t in control of their new strength.

He likes to stay a little longer to get some practice himself and prepare for the next class. Lately, as confessed over last night’s dinner consisting of the borscht his mother taught him how to make, he’s been thinking about participating in tournaments.

I beckon for him to hand over his water bottle. Leo drinks the last of his protein shake, takes off the cap, and hands both compartments over so I can place them in the dishwasher. “Don’t go too hard on them.”

“Some Russian discipline might do them good. Teach them proper. Makes good fighters.”

“Not everyone’s as hardy as you.”

He grumbles something in Russian about controlling something, likely the beast within. Then he points at the large shoppers on the counters. “Also, next time, da, tell me when you go get groceries. I’ll carry bags.”

I laugh to myself, shut the lid, and put on the program. “How about we go out today?”

“Out?” Leo asks, perking up. Had he been in his Wolf form, his tail would have been wagging.

Though he keeps up a guard, I can’t help but notice he’s at his happiest when outside. Be it on a walk in the countryside, cruising through it on his motorcycle, tending to the garden or the vegetable patches he’s planted, or even so much as a trip to the big supermarket outside the village, his mood is better than when he’s cooped up inside. Nonetheless, it’s a small victory he’s finally sleeping indoors.

“Yes, I thought it’d be nice to go get coffee in town for a change.” A low rumble resounds from his stomach. “Although, let’s make that lunch.”

“Good idea. I’ll take a quick shower and we go. We can go. Um, da, be right back!” He rushes upstairs, his footsteps soon sounding towards the bathroom.

Even though he’s likely not aware of it himself, I cherish moments like these. When the walls crumble and there is no strict boundary between the man and the beast inside. When he’s carefree, excited by the prospect of going on a walk.

I start putting away the groceries, mumbling to myself. ‘‘You’re really just a fluffy oversized wolf on the inside, aren’t you?’’

A busy day in the village is incomparable to its urban equivalent. Although, the capital of the Cotswolds, Cirencester, hardly becomes any busier than a quiet day in London or Southampton. All the same, it makes for the ideal ground for those wishing to reintegrate and connect with people because it allows them to adjust slowly without being surrounded by a sea of potential triggers.

After parking the car, Leo driving as per usual, we casually walk towards the centre of Baron’s End. The white cobbled market plaza forms the beating heart of the town. On Wednesdays and Fridays, the local farmers sell their produce. On Saturdays, there is a small fabric market. Once in a season, though, an antique flea market takes place here. Yet, even when there’s nothing going on, it still forms the essential link that connects the villagers with each other.

I notice Leo is sticking closer to me than usual, enough so for his fingers to brush past mine. Either he doesn’t notice or willfully ignores it because when I look up, his eyes are trained on something in the distance.

The same thing happened last week while we were out doing groceries. Whereas normally one of us has the cart and the other wanders around, picking up items off of the list or at random, he was adamant we had plenty of time so we could browse together at leisure. There’s also been a recent development in our habit of sitting together by the fire after dinner to read and drink tea. We each used to sit on either end of the sofa, a gap between us. However, Leo now tends to sit directly next to me. I don’t have the courage yet to lean on him when he does, too afraid of the repercussions. After all, we’ve only known each other for around four months, our bond still fragile.

We strike down at a little café in a former cottage. The interior is rustic and simple, dark wood mingled with vintage items and small plants. Here and there, there’s a pop of pastel pink or blue in the form of a print or flower. Bright sunlight streams in through the French windows of the sun room.

The bell above the door tinkles softly as we enter. Leo holds it open while gesturing for me to go in first. Though it happens less frequently now, he still draws more than one pair of eyes to him. And not all of them are appreciative, especially when they hear him speak. “Go find seat. I’ll order. Cappuccino, da?”

But it are the female gazes that are more than appreciative, including the young barista’s, which occasionally make me not want to be out with him at all. It’s odd, but recently I’ve found myself unusually annoyed with them. Moreover, they make my stomach roil and reluctant to leave his side in a way that goes beyond the role assigned to me by the WHO.

Nonetheless, I have to let him do these things. Not just to improve his English, which has improved greatly over these past four months and is likely in part to blame on the many books he reads in the library and in bed. Many a time I’ve seen the light still on in the dead of night, his door cracked open just enough to show him immersed in whatever novel he picked from the pile on his bedside table that night. But I also have to let him so he’ll find his own way.

Without me.

I nod.

“See? I know what you like. Go find spot to sit. Be right there.” He tilts his head when I don’t move, fists clenched at my sides and my gaze averted to the ground. “Y/N, what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” I let out the breath I’d been holding and force myself to look at him, making sure to first blink away the tears. “Guess I’m still a bit tired. Didn’t sleep all too well last night.”

He grabs my wrist when I turn around. His big fingers are warm, their grip iron-like. Protective even to the point it hurts. “Malen’kiy-’’

Leo lets go the moment I snap my head back to throw him a glance over my shoulder. He’s never touched me before.

Realising the same thing, he opens and closes his mouth. Neither in his native tongue nor his second do words come, so he settles for a sigh and gestures helplessly to the tables off on the side. “Go sit.”

We’re in luck because I manage to capture a seat by one of the windows overlooking the plaza in the sun room. I watch him order, my jaw clenched thanks to the doe eyes the barista gives him. However, she quickly pales at something he says as he points behind him and nods frantically in response.

I sit up a bit, my interest piqued by the strange display.

What did you tell her? It didn’t look like the Wolf came out, but she looks awfully spooked. Should I interfere or won’t that be necessary? Also, what were you pointing at?

There is no time to check out what’s going on because, after doubting for a moment too long, Leo has already arrived at the table. Gently and with care, he serves me the cappuccino. “That’s one for you, malen’kiy. It’s on me.”

Scrambling to regain my composure, I try to keep my voice devoid of the curiosity gnawing at me. “Really, it’s no trouble to-’’

He sits down and holds up his hand. “It’s fine. I recently got paid.”

“Thank you, Leo.”

His features soften as a rare warmth illuminates his eyes. “You are very welcome.”

“By the way, what does it mean?”

“What?”

“What you called me. Ma- Male…”

“Malen’kiy?”

“Yes.”

“It means little one. And since you’re, um, well,” a rosy flush creeps into his cheeks and to hide it he hides behind his cup, taking a big sip of the black coffee, “it- it suits you.”

He isn’t wrong there, being a head taller. But his reaction is telling of the fact that more goes on beneath the surface of the uncharacteristically clumsy argument. There is a reason for the nickname, but he won’t divulge it to me yet.

Nevertheless, perhaps to save us from our mutual discomfort, I clear my throat and take a sip of the soft, foamy coffee in my hands. ‘‘Can I ask you something?’’

‘‘You are full of questions today.’’ He grows still as he takes me in, trying to discover why I’m crossing the apparent maximum of one question a day. Leo doesn’t like talking, especially about himself. Fortunately, I have luck on my side today. ‘‘Go on.’’

I nod at the barista, who’s gotten some colour in her skin again. ‘‘What did you say to her? She looked mortified when you two were talking.’’

He throws a glance to the side before gazing down into his cup, head bowed. A few stray dark brown locks dangle in front of his eyes. ‘‘Hm.’’

‘‘Leo?’’

‘‘I set boundary. Boundaries are good. Keep things in place.’’ Sullen, he takes a sip of his coffee. ‘‘Where they should be. Protects them.’’

The sternness in his voice forms a clue that I won’t get more than this out of him. Evidently, the conversation on this subject is over.

To save us from the discomfort of the violent silence between us, I change the topic to a more business-like one. “So, we’ve been living together for a few months now. How are you liking it?”

“Good. It’s good.” He takes a sip of his drink and nods in appreciation, making it hard to know whether he means the coffee or living together.

“I notice your insomnia has gotten less.” Nowadays, I don’t catch him as often reading in front of the hearth of the library we built together or, if the skies are clear, watching the stars in the sun room. At least he’s staying indoors now rather than wandering off across the meadows or sitting in the middle of them until morning.

“That is true. I sleep better now.”

“Do you think you could be happy here?”

He purses his lips in contemplation. “I think so, da. I owe you a lot and I am grateful for your help.”

“You’ve grown a lot since we met. I’m glad we’re talking now.”

His response catches me off guard. “I am too.”

“Leo… I’ve been thinking. I suppose it’s inevitable, but, how to phrase this, have-’’ the words catch in my throat, too afraid and jumbled to come out. I tap my fingers against the side of my cup.

He puts his down and places a warm hand over my wrist. “Remember what you told me. Breathe. Take your time, but breathe.”

I take a few deep breaths yet do not have the courage to meet his gaze, to see the strange tenderness that’s taken root in the ice. “Have you maybe thought about moving out at some point? Live on your own?”

“And leave you, my friend, my companion, my m-’’ he clears his throat, cheeks tinged with a rosy flush. “No, I stay. The house is very big and you’ll be very lonely. And loneliness is not good. It breaks you.”

“That it does.”

“I’ve seen you change too. You’ve become, how to say, radiant. More life, no, lively.”

I blink, surprised by his observation. “Have I?”

“Da,’’ he answers resolutely. ‘‘You have. It’s good to see. Very nice.’’

“Leo?”

“Hm?”

“Stay for as long as you like.”

Preferably forever.

“I will.”

#Leo Demidov #Leo Demidov x Reader #Leo Demidov imagine #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy imagine

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writingsbychlo · 4 years ago

Text

mistletoe magic | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,490

summary; stiles learns that his cute neighbour might be a witch after accidentally getting her spellbooks delivered to him instead.

notes; I know a witch!au isn’t a huge au for stiles, because he’s had evident races of magic throughout the series anyway, but just enjoy it!

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, use of magic

It had been a pretty regular Monday morning for Stiles.

At six sharp, he’d been up and awake, barely functional but stumbling through his apartment and clicking on the coffee machine, before hopping into the shower for a quick wash. When he’d emerged, the machine had just finished grinding, as always, his routine functioning like a well-oiled machine now, and he’d moved it all across into a to-go cup and left it on the counter before going to get dressed.

He’d stumbled around to find his school books and shove them into a bag, eaten two cinnamon pop tarts that had burned the tips of his fingers when he’d grabbed them straight from the toaster, and had still been chewing as he shoved his keys in his pocket and sipped at his coffee, straight into the elevator at twenty to seven.

It was a fifteen-minute walk across campus to his early morning lecture on a Monday, leaving him with a few minutes to spare, in case he saw the sweet older lady from two floors down and wanted to say ��hi’, or the cute neighbour who lived across the hall that always made him fall over his own feet, or maybe even the kid who delivers newspapers and is always falling off of his bike. He made it on time, took some great notes, and was feeling a little more alive and welcome into his day.

At exactly ten past one, he’d been home, having gone to the library to get some study in and find his new books, and get lunch at the diner he always ate at after classes, a cheeseburger and curly fries, and grabbed his letters and a parcel from the mail slot with his housing number printed on, tucking the package under his arm and heading upstairs and back to his flat, ready to flick through his bills.

All according to plan. One year and four months away at university and he knew every day like he’d been doing it for a decade, so he was only half-way to the kitchen when he remembered the package he was clutching under his arm, coming to a complete halt, throwing the usual assortment of envelopes away to the counter, and producing the neatly wrapped bundle.

He didn’t question it, not even bothering to look at the front, figuring it was just an early delivery on the textbooks that he wasn’t expecting to get here for another three weeks, finger slipping under the folds of the brown paper and tearing it away, fingers dancing over the covers of the books, before his brows were furrowing once again.

These were definitely not his ‘intro to psychological profiling’ textbooks.

Beautiful swirls in gold, carved into dark leather across the front, Latin words he didn’t understand before he was opening the cover, brushing off a layer of dust and letting one brow arch up. The text inside was English - though, no modern - and paper that he was cautious to take care of, simply from what appeared to be the age of it, stained and worn, finger marks clear on the corner from being passed down through generations. It was handwritten, drawings in old ink that had leaked onto the paper a little, rough and coarse, and labelled doodles with names he had never heard of before.

At a glance, he would assume it to be some kind of witchcraft.

He felt on edge, suddenly. He’d left Beacon Hills to come to somewhere that no supernatural would follow, where things like werewolves were still a myth, something to be laughed at, and he swallowed thickly, looking around his apartment as though someone was going to jump out. He loved his friends, he really did, and he didn’t so much mind the supernatural when he was with them all because they protected him, but alone out here, he and his bat didn’t stand a chance.

Now, it was Christmas, he knew this from the poor excuse of a tree up in his living room, and the snow outside, and the fact that for the last six weeks, his usual mochas had been a gingerbread-spiced mocha, on the insistence of the barista who served him whenever he ventured into the little coffee shop joint, and he was growing find of it. So, he tried to be optimistic, in the spirit of festivities and all that, and texted the group chat, waiting to see if any of them had sent him the books as a present, maybe even his father or Melissa. He even texted Parrish.

Except, they all said no, and now, he was stumped. Then, as he was being extra nosey and flicking through the book, he came across a page marked with a small slip of card, the item falling out, and he cursed, having no idea which page it came from, but as he picked up the piece of paper, one of the questions in his puzzle finally gained another piece towards the jigsaw.

‘(Y/N), the spell you’re looking for is here, but be careful, it’s a strong one.’

So, the books are for his hot neighbour, the next number up from his, and it now made sense as to why he had these books - they were a mistake. It opened a new question, however, as to why you would be getting them.

He had absolutely no patience, barley remembering to flick the catch on his door so that he’d be able to get back inside, before he was striding across the hall in one, two steps, and knocking on the wood. He could hear you shuffling around inside, the soft and muffled notes of the classic rock music you’d been listening to getting turned right down to low. It only took you a further few seconds until you were opening the door, but it felt like years to him with his impatience, fingers tapping against the books agitatedly, biting the nail of the other thumb, and his foot was tapping against the floor.

When you opened the door, though, he felt like it was too soon, like he wasn’t prepared for what to say, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart leapt in his chest, eyes sweeping down along your body and widening at your bare legs, only a t-shirt hanging on your frame, rising up to reveal the edge of a pair of white lace panties as you opened the door, and he forced his eyes back up to yours, wincing as he bit down a little too harshly on his nail, and pulled it from his mouth, shaking it as his dropped to his side.

“Hey, neighbour.”

“H-Hi. Hello. Yes, hi.” He already wanted to die a little bit, he hadn't stuttered this much in front of a pretty girl since junior year in high school, even Lydia had lost this effect on him, and college really had been a growing experience for him. He’d had a fair few hook-ups, and experimented, and he wasn’t shy about flirting when he wanted to, but you always through hi right back through loops, like he was still that kid with a buzzcut.

“What can I do for you, four-A?”

“Stiles. My name is Stiles.” He waited for the usual reaction, the cringe, the eyebrows shooting up, the scowl, something to indicate that you had actually heard the pronunciation, but you only smiled a little wider.

“I know. After I introduced myself and you fell over and didn’t give me your name, I checked the mail in your post-slot. I was curious. There was a lot addressed to Mieczysłav, but then one with a handwritten address to Stiles.” You shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, and crossing your arms, and while you might seem casual, at least his degree was coming in useful for something, as your body language read an entirely different reaction, insecurity and worry rolling off of you in invisible waves of tells.

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, laughing slightly. “That sounds like something I would do.”

Silence fell between you both for a second, and he couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of your face, the way your lower lip was a little reddened, and he figured you must have been nibbling on it while working, and your hair was messy, an attempt to pin it back that seemed to have come loose and entirely ineffective, presumably from dancing, because you looked a little flushed. When you raised your brows at him a little, he realised you were waiting for him to explain himself, why he was on your doorstep, and he flushed with embarrassment shaking his head clear.

“I got your spellbooks by mistake.” He held them out, eyes widening even more, before his jaw was dropping open. “Book. Regular books. Not spell books, because that would imply magic, right? And, that’s dumb. Just regular books. I didn’t look at them, at all, not even a little bit, I promise.”

“You don’t believe in magic, then?” You took them from him, a coy smile on your lips, and you placed them down on the counter beside the door, pushing a bowl of potpourri getting pushed aside, along with your car keys and what looked like an incense burner.

“Do you?”

He was testing the water, seeing where your mind was at, and as a whistling came from your kitchen, you glanced back over to the kettle on the hob, and he thought this conversation might be about to come to an end. “Well, I think there’s always a little magic in life, even if people don’t notice it. You have to believe in magic to be able to see it. It’s like the supernatural that way.”

“And, you believe in the supernatural, huh?” He felt bad for the way he said it, because it was mocking, but he had to be sure that you weren’t messing with him, or spying on him, he had to try and find out who you were, but you only looked away as the whistling got louder, opening the door a little more and waving him inside as you walked away, and he stumbled after you and closed the door before his mind had even caught up with the movement of his feet.

Your apartment was littered with plants. The windowsills were lined with them, all brought green and blooming, even though he was sure it wasn’t the right season, and there was even a set of cactuses along a shelf near the corridor. There was a homey feel to your place, almost earthy, neutral tones and soft accents, a smell that was so calming he felt his own muscles begin to relax, and the music had changed from classic rock to some country song he was sure he’d heard in a movie somewhere but couldn't quite place it, and he followed you to the kitchen.

Rows of cookbooks and recipe folders stacked up on top of a lower cupboard, and he swallowed thickly, averting his gaze from the way your lace panties hugged your ass deliciously as you reached up for a mug, bringing back two, and pouring them both full of the herbal concoction you’d been making. On a mismatching saucer, you offered it to him, and he sniffed it carefully, but remembered his manners, mumbling a ‘thank you’, because his mother raised his right, even if he was a little suspicious of you.

“Relax, Stiles, if I was going to poison you, I wouldn’t be giving you tea made of Valerian and Lemon Balm. Do you want any honey, honey?” You grinned a little at your joke, but he shook his head, watching as you stirred a spoonful of the sticky sweetener into your own, and taking a tentative sip after blowing on the surface. It wasn’t all that bad, he had to admit, and he found his tensions slipping away a little. “It’s for relaxing, and helping with sleep.”

“It’s good.” You smiled, blowing lightly on your own, and he decided that he could busy himself by checking out your posters. An interesting arrangement, one was a band poster, the other was a chart with the phases of the moon, a third with diagrams of plants and little facts underneath, and the fourth, with symbols and drawing he didn’t quite understand. “So, you’re really embracing that whole witch thing, then?”

“Well, seeing as I am a witch, I would think it’s only appropriate.” He tried to hide his grin behind his mug, shaking his head a little, not believing that they really existed, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes, clearly, because there was a playful kind of offence flashing across your face. “You can’t tell me you think I’m insane, not when there’s so much of the supernatural all over you, Stiles.”

“The supernatural? Really?”

“So, you’re not the emissary to a pack of werewolves?” You challenged, his jaw dropping at the accuracy of it, and it was your turn to laugh at him. “It’s literally stitched into your aura, I sensed another supernatural the second you walked into the building.”

“I just associate with a lot of ‘em, but I’m not supernatural myself.”

“You sure about that?” He stilled, memories flashing behind his eyes of a time when he once was, and you seemed to pick up on the slightly sour mood he’d taken on, then again, he wasn’t really sure where your abilities lay, being that Scott or Derek would have simply sniffed it out on him. Your hand on his arm snapped him back to the moment, fingers squeezing lightly at his bicep. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“There was a possibility, once, but it’s gone. There’s a dark chapter in my past, and the spark I was told I once had disappeared when I got through it.”

It went quiet again after that, your fingers slipping down from his arm to take his, and you placed your cup down, the steaming brew barely touched, but he followed suit, letting himself be pulled along as you directed him back to the living room. You were distracting him, it was an obvious ploy, but he was excited to learn, and he let the sadness of remembering his possession fade away as the thrill of new knowledge took over. “I can tell you have a lot of questions, so, what do you want to know first?”

He rubbed at his chin, settling down onto the couch at the edge of the room, finding it surprisingly comfortable, and you were busying yourself around him, a little water jug in your hand as you nurtured the abundance of houseplants you owned. “How did you know about my pack? And how much do you know about them?”

“It’s in your aura, I suppose. I can just pick up hints of different things when you’re around. The wolves are obvious, I’ve been around a lot of wolves. I also get death, and I've never met a banshee, but I assume that’s what it is. I knew you were the emissary because you’re the only magic in there, I would sense other traces on you, and there’s something else I can’t quite place.” Your face screwed up a little bit as you thought about it, nose wrinkling adorably before shrugging. “Like a werewolf, but not quite. I can’t get it.”

“She’s a werecoyote.”

You paused your pouring, turning to look at him, eyes flicking lightly around his being, before smiling slightly to yourself, and going back to your task. “Huh. Interesting.”

“Have you been a witch your whole life?”

“Since the day I was born, but I didn’t know or start practising until I was older. It just kinda’ happens, comes out of nowhere at a certain age, you start to realise you have abilities.” You had moved onto using a dropper to give little drips of water to cacti and succulents, standing on a small step stool as you did.

“Do you have to go to a school, like Harry Potter? Do you have a wand?”

You laughed at that, a genuine and hearty laugh, and you finished up your tasks, legs folding underneath yourself and you smirked a little at him as you sat down and got comfortable. “You wish, Stilinski. It’s not like that, it's more of an earthly connection than magic. It’s why my plants are so healthy. I can brew stuff, make little potions-” You motioned a hand over the jars lining the shelves on the walls, his eyes scanning over each one, picking out the neatly written titles across the fronts. “-I can cast very light spells, but it’s not the sort of thing where you can curse people, or teleport.”

“So, you can’t curse people to turn into frogs?”

“No, unfortunately not.” He was sure your giggle was the sweetest he’d ever heard, and he dared to twist himself around a little more, inching slightly closer to you across the couch. “I can do some stuff, like make your skin break out or give you a rash that won’t go away until I let it, and I can even give you headaches and such, but I don’t like to dabble in that sort of stuff. I much prefer protection charms.”

“Protection charms?” His heart skipped a little beat at the way your face lit up as you nodded, and he was intrigued, interest piqued. “I could use one of those, y’know, I’m incredibly clumsy and often get into supernatural trouble when I’m home. Hasn’t been so bad since I got here. Will you make me one?”

Your eyes left him, bottom lip nibbled between your teeth, and for a second he had worried he’d messed up, unsure on how witch spellcasting etiquette worked, but then you were moving across the room, opening up the cabinet on the other side of the room, and inside the doors and wooden frame hung what must be close to a thirty different decorative charms. Some were dreamcatchers or garlands hanging on the inside of the door, others were handcrafted little ornaments sitting on the shelves and filling them up, and your fingers were flittering over them all.

When you found what you were looking for, you lifted it out, a dream catcher that was bright and colourful and a little odd-looking, before bringing it back over to him, and presenting him with it cautiously. “You already made me one?”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t let the cute guy from across the hall get any more injuries. I watched you fall over five times in your first week living here. You’re really clumsy.”

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, and yet he couldn't help the goofy grin that travelled across his features, not mentioning the fact that he noticed you sitting considerably closer to home when you took your seat once again. He was embarrassed for two reasons, the first being that you had noticed his innate penchant for ridiculous injuries, but more overwhelmingly, the second being that you still thought he was cute. College might have helped him bloom a little, but when he had a crush, he was still a bumbling mess, and he didn’t know quite how to respond.

He busied himself with taking in the details of the dreamcatcher. Somehow, despite this being the first real conversation that the two of you had ever had, passing and fleeting chats in the halls and elevator not counting, you had managed to capture his entire essence, he could already tell. The strings were made of wool, chunky and all different colours, a mix of yellows and blues, woven in together and tangled in strange patterns, but beautiful nonetheless, and the little accents were what made it complete.

A button that had fallen off of one of his flannels, he recognised the distinctive wooden piece, and it was woven into the design, along with a blue ribbon in the same colour of the jeep that was tied in a bow, and a wooden twig tangled in it. Dangling on more pieces of wool from the bottom was a keyring he was sure he’d lost after leaving it downstairs overnight, the Yoda on it looking cleaner than he remembered, and you must've cleaned it. There was also a black feather, and a sprig of some kind of dried herb that he didn't recognise, but enjoyed the smell anyway.

It was intricate and personal, and he felt chuffed just to know that you’d made one for him, a little security and peace washing over him to know that someone was out here looking after him, completely unmaliciously, simply because you wanted to.

“This is incredible.” You let out a breath of relief, he recognised it in the way your body slumped a little, and he placed it down carefully on the coffee table beside you both, reaching out to take your hand in his, and daring to lace your fingers together and squeeze in gratitude, and you held onto him yourself, gaze dropping down to your connected hands. In a bold move of your own, you lifted your other hand, holding onto his with both of yours, and his thumb lifted out to brush lightly over your skin. “You’re the reason I don’t get papercuts and splinters anymore.”

“And you are very welcome for that.” You teased him back, and an easy kind of harmony fell between you both, your presence being more comfortable simply having only just really begun to meet you than he ever had been with someone new. It was strange, to feel so relaxed and at home with you, the way you put his fears at ease and soothed every worry without even trying, making him feel welcome and accepted, like he’d known you for years, not just shy of an hour. “Will you tell me about your pack?”

“You really want to know?” He couldn’t mask his surprise, and you nodded, excitement gleaming in your eyes, and he felt a surge of pride swell up in his system at the idea of getting to boast about his friends completely honestly for the first time in his life. There was no threat, he wasn’t showing off their skills as a way to try and ward off a threat or intimidate someone, but he simply wanted everyone else to be as awed by them as he was, and he didn’t have to hide any supernatural secrets from you. “Shall I start at the beginning?”

“Is it a long story?”

“Very long.” He confirmed, a shy laugh leaving you, before you were shifting again.

“How about I go and make us some fresh tea, then?” You were on your feet, wandering away to the kitchen as soon as he’d offered his affirmations of the idea, and he decided to follow after you, already beginning to blather about Peter Hale.

Hours seemed to pass by, as he spoke to you, two more pots of tea being made, and you’d broken out your snack-store for him, before the two of you had ordered pizza. He’d made himself at home, too, keys and phone sitting abandoned on the table, shoes kicked off on the floor, and feet stretched out along the couch. You were sitting at the opposite end, your legs stretched out in his direction, and one of his hands was sitting on your ankle, fingers drawing patterns on the soft skin there absentmindedly as his other hand was used to gesture wildly around himself.

He told you it all, confessing right from the beginning as he encountered Derek Hale, who liked to lurk in the woods, which had made you crack up as he told you about how the man was basically now the alpha, even if Scott was officially the alpha, and he’d told you about Jackson’s kanima phase, which had made you crack up even more as you claimed he deserved it.

You’d been shocked by his homicidal English teacher, and comforted him when he spilled his heart to you over the nogitsune incident he hated to think about, accepting your hush happily, and revelling in the smell of your hair when you’d pressed in close to him, before retreating to your seat.

He told you all about the benefactor and the dread doctors, and about Allison’s death, which he still blamed himself for when he was on a low day, and you’d used your thumb to clear away the tear that had fallen from his cheek, leaving him blushing and breathless for a second when you’d pressed a light kiss to his cheekbone just after.

You had scooted closer to him and stayed there near the end of his tales, tucked under his arm, playing with his fingers over your shoulders as he rambled about how alone he’d felt while taken by the Wild Hunt, thoughts that he’d always kept locked up in his own mind, never having shared with another person before.

“You really got the short end of the ‘supernatural encounters’ stick then, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that is the understatement of the century.” You lifted your head from his shoulder, your feet nudging together on the coffee table, the reindeer themed fluffy socks on your feet playing with the patchy and worn door knitted socks he’d had for years, worn to keep warm during the winter, even though your apartment was nice and toasty, the heaters running and the radiators on, and it was much cosier than his place had ever been.

The Christmas lights on a timer had come on, flickering around the place once the light had started fading, hours flashing by in the blink of an eye, a hazy glow cast over the apartment and creating a whole new range of shadows. “Do you want me to make charms for your friends?”

He watched you for a moment longer, trying to discern whether you were serious, and when he caught no gesture of ill-will, or hesitation, or hidden-motives, he smiled. “You’d do that?”

“Seems like you all need it.”

He shrugged a little, smiling when you rested your forehead against his, fingers playing together still, but feet stilling in their game of footsie. “I can’t believe I waited this long to get to know you. You’re, like, the coolest chick I’ve ever met.”

His eyes fluttered closed, he couldn't’ help it, noses bumping together as you both simply drowned in the moment, in what the moment was leading up to, where you both knew this was going but were revelling in the simple but exhilarating tension that was crackling with electricity in the millimetres of space between your lips and his. You were so close to him that he could feel it more than hear it when you whispered some words he didn’t quite understand, your breath fanning over his face in a dreamy sigh, and it took his hazed brain a second to catch up, before he was pulling back just enough to catch your eyes, one hand coming up to rest over your cheek as he turned to face you fully.

“Oh, my God. Did you just cast a spell?”

“Look up.” He was hesitant to pull back much further, but did so anyway, and he chuckled slightly as he spotted the little green plant beginning to sprout from the ceiling. Vines were still strengthening along the beam, and the leaves were beginning to form right before his eyes, white berries hanging between the green stems, and Stiles shook his head, in complete awe as he looked at it.

You were staring up to, eyes focused on the plant as it bloomed and he assumed you were concentrating on its development, but he couldn't hold back anymore, two hands on your cheeks, pulling your face back to his, and your lips barely parted to speak before his mouth was colliding with your own. A squeak left you, and he wanted to grin at being able illicit such a sound from you, but the temptation to kiss was just enough for him to contain himself. When your mind finally caught up, you were kissing him back just as eagerly, a soft sigh leaving you. “You are fucking adorable.”

The words were whispered into your mouth, he felt you shake with a soft laugh under his hold, before you were holding onto him just as tightly in return. One of your hands wrapped around his wrists, the other sliding over his bicep to his shoulder, before slipping down underneath, and smoothing over the front of his chest. He puffed out a little under your touch, pulling away for a quick breath, groaning slightly at the way your nails dug into his skin as he did, and then, he was diving right back into you.

Your hand slipped down to rest over his heart, the organ thudding under your hand, and he felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest, but as he pressed a little further into you, a shock like an electrocution was racing right through his body, a kind of jolt that was thoroughly exhilarating, and he pulled away, eyes wide as he stared at you.

You looked just as shocked as he expected he did too, his hands dropped down as he watched sparks and electricity crackle between your fingers and his, your brows raising at him. “Thought you said you had no magic left after.. y’know..”

He couldn’t drag his eyes away from it, your fingers weaving with his, a loud snapping sounding as a particularly bright flare went off, and he flinched a little, jaw dropping and a whine slipping from him as you contained it all the sight disappeared before his eyes. “So, there really are sparks flying between us, huh?”

He regretted the words the moment he’d said them, expecting to see on your face the same kind he’d always gotten from Malia or Lydia when he made those kinds of cheesy puns that only he enjoyed, even Scott daring to fix him with a bored or blank look, and Derek would simply glare, but much to his surprise, you laughed. It was fond, with a roll of your eyes and a huff to preempt it, but you laughed nonetheless, and he felt himself somehow manage to brighten even further. “That was cheesy.”

“I know.” He beamed, shifting a little, hands sinking down to your hips to pull you closer to himself as he settled back into the couch, and your hand pressed to the cushions beside his head, the other one coming up to weave into his hair lightly.

“I loved it. I am quite a fan of puns.”

“That’s good, because I usually have a lot of them.” He leaned up, daring himself to be bold enough to close that gap once again, and he could feel your lashes tickling his cheeks as you nuzzled into him a little more. “If I kiss you again, will those sparks happen this time, too?”

“If I stop controlling it, they will.”

“Stop controlling it, sweetheart.” He felt you move to nod your affirmations, but dipped his head in time, proud of his own reflexes as he caught your lips, feeling the hand in his hair tighten, and he was so glad he’d decided to grow it out all those years ago, because right now, he was losing all sense of himself in the way your nails would scratch across his scalp, or the delicious burning that flared over his skin for a split second when you pulled on his hair, before you were rubbing it softly, fingers working in tandem timing with your lips, teasing over his own.

That same feeling took up, a sparking that felt like fireworks, like energy surging through him, escaping at his fingertips in every place that he touched you, one palm smoothing along your back to somewhere that was definitely too lose to be respectable, as the other held onto your cheek still. You were taking control, your tongue darting out to trace over his lower lip, bribing him to part them but he needed no convincing, letting your tongue meet his own only a second after you’d made the request, equally breathy and needy noises escaping you both at the slow and wet drag of the muscles over one another.

His lungs were burning, lips beginning to sting as his assault on your mouth continued, his neck straining to hold this angle, and yet the more you kissed him, the more that the hazy feeling of getting to be with you like this raced through his body was the more he became addicted to needing more, chasing a high that he didn’t even know he wanted until now, like an addict finding his next hit.

You seemed to pick up on it all, as though you’d read all of his thoughts, because the second he’d had the lingering thoughts, you were settling yourself across his lap, a leg on either side of his own as you seated yourself down, and he couldn't help the way his hips bucked up a little to meet you, or the way his hand slid down fully to rest on your ass.

After all, as much as he’d gone through the make him grow up emotionally, physically he was still a horny-teen college boy, and you were one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, sitting half-naked in his lap and sucking on his lower lap while doing something with your tongue that was making him feel like he couldn't even breathe properly for how aroused he was.

Maybe you could feel the growing erection underneath of you, maybe you couldn't, but he’d stopped caring about being embarrassed around you about three hours ago when he’d had to tell you all about the time he’d once dropped a condom in Coach’s class in front of the entire classroom, and you’d laughed so much your face had gone red and you’d hidden it form him by pressing into his shoulder.

You were something he felt like he was dreaming up, like any moment now he’d wake up in a small puddle of his own drool with his face pressed into the desk of his lecture hall, the lights turned out and another note left by his kind professor to get more sleep at home, and to lock up when he left, before you were giggling a little at him, pulling away and stealing a few more pecks as you did, and he wondered if you really could read his mind, heat flushing his cheeks.

“Are you reading my mind or something?”

He felt stupid even as he mumbled te words, especially when it only seemed to heighten your entertainment, but you shook your head. “I can’t read your mind, I can just kinda’ sense your mood, I guess. It’s the connection, you were clearly thinking something funny, and I don’t know what it was, but I got a sudden rush of amusement.”

“That’s pretty fucking incredible.” He whispered, letting you peck his mouth a few more times, simply sitting there with puckered lips as he tried not to smile too much, before he was tucking hair away behind your ears and finally you were opening your eyes, and at this point, he really should learn to stop being surprised by new developments with you. “Holy shit, your eyes are glowing!”

“So are yours.” You winked, the bright purple being a shade that was so captivating and beautiful on you that he couldn’t look away, even when you leaned away from him to grab his phone, raising it up to snap a picture for him, and forcing his gaze down to it. Much like you’d said, his eyes were beginning to hint in with a faint purple, the neon shading beginning to drip into his irises and take over from the usual golden-brown that resided there. “You never made out with another witch before?”

He pinched at your ass for your cheeky comment, taking his phone and throwing it away to the side, grinning when you yelped at his painless attack. “I didn’t even know witches really existed before today. Besides, what makes you think I'm one? I had a spark once, but as I said, that died out. Nothing truly magical.”

“I don’t know, you’re having a pretty strong connection with me right now, aren’t you?” Your arms looped around his neck, snuggling in a little closer to him, and he bit back a groan as you shuffled in his lap. “I think you’re underestimating yourself, you just don’t know how to tap into your magic, you have to believe in it to see it.”

“You really think so?”

He was vulnerable and he knew it showed, he’d gone his entire life being unsure as to where all his energy and twitching came from, as to why he’d always felt a draw to the earth; the preserve and the woods, and justice and balance, and why he’d somehow fit into a supernatural world with far more elegance and ease than he ever had the normal one, and maybe this was the explanation. “I really do, Stiles.”

“Will you teach me?”

“I would love to.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and then to the spot below your ear, before flicking his tongue out a little to drag over the sensitive patch that lay there, before moving down your neck. He didn’t want to mark you without your consent, he wasn’t sure what was going to come of all of this and where it would go, but he was more than happy to lick and bite lightly at your skin, finding the sweet spot that made your hips roll down into his own and a sound of need and desperation to leave you that was like music to his ears, before his hips were bucking up to meet you once again.

“Y’know when you said that you could feel what I was feeling?”

“Uh-huh?” You were distracted, your reply seeming somewhat faded and distant, and he chuckled lightly, before making his way back up to your mouth now that you’d both had a chance to catch your breaths once again.

“Does that mean everything?”

“Are you asking if I know just how much you want to fuck me right now? Because yes, I do know.” He choked a little on his breath, your hand in his hair pulling his head back so that you could meet his gaze, your lower lip held between you teeth, flesh going a darker pink, and he longed to be the one biting that lip for you. “Trust me, the sentiment is returned.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah.” He wasn’t used to women being so confident with wanting him, being so unashamed of it, or of even wanting him at all. Most of his hook-ups had been slightly drunk make-outs and sloppy grinding, or booty calls and meetings in closets at parties. He got more action than he ever did in high school, he’d finally grown into his limbs and his looks, but that didn’t take away the surprise that still happened every time someone as pretty as you even offered him the time of day.

“Like, right here? Right now?”

“Been thinking about how much I want to ride you on my couch for like an hour and a half, now.” Stiles couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, lips parting as you ran a finger over his swollen lips, a cheeky glint flashing over purple eyes as you looked at him.

“You might just be perfect for me.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A toothy smile was offered to you, before he was pulling you back in towards him, hands slipping down to lay resting on your thighs as soon as your lips had found his once again. The heat seemed to have passed, and while the kiss was still completely intoxicating, there was something a little more tender about it, too. It wasn’t nearly as rushed and frantic, the sloppy kisses you’d shared as you learned one another’s ticks had passed, and as your lips worked slowly with his own, Stiles found that he much preferred this kind of kiss.

This was the kind of kiss that he could picture himself sharing with you in many settings. A sleepy, early morning kiss, when you were still between the land of consciousness and the realm of unconsciousness. Or, late nights, when he’d fall asleep while studying, and he would let you drag him to his feet and to bed. Or, simply when he would finish a lecture, or get you coffee, or meet you for dinner. The point was, Stiles already knew he wanted to kiss you at all times of the day, and to hold onto you, and to watch you brew little spells at the stove while holding onto you from behind.

Your lips were wet when you pulled away, eyes sparkling as you looked at him, a bright shade of royal purple, like silk and rich violet on flower petals, and you looked utterly ethereal. “Do you have any idea just how beautiful you are?”

“You’re sweet-talking me.” You teased, bumping the tip of your nose against his, and he shook his head.

“No, I’m not, I’m just being honest with you. I’ve been into you for a long time, even if I didn’t quite have my mind in the right place to actually say it.” You huffed out a little laugh, your eyes averting from his own so that you could try and hide your bashful little expression, but he didn’t miss it.

“Well, I’ve been admiring you a little, too. I should’ve had my deliveries sent to you sooner, if I knew it was going to end like this.” As if to punctuate your words, you rolled your hips down into his, reminding him of the solid erection pressing into his jeans, his fingers digging a little firmer into your skin, and he pushed your shirt up higher, the soft cotton of your panties revealed to him.

“These are just fucking sinful. Do you normally wander around your house in underwear and band-tees?” He tugged at it a little, before daring to tuck his hand underneath the fabric, trailing up, and a poorly-concealed groan left him as he found no further obstructions, fingers closing over one of your breasts, squeezing lightly as he palmed at your chest. “Well, clearly not all of your underwear.”

“I tend to, I keep it warm in here, for all the plants.” Your back arched up into his hand, one of your own closing over his outside of your shirt, as your other held onto his shoulder, fingers leaving crescent-moon shaped marks he was sure, and the rocking of your hips into his own only seemed to increase.

“I’d love to see you in one of my flannels sometime, just like this.”

“Give me your shirt and you’ll see it sooner than you think.” You teased, his brows raising, before he was pulling his hands back just long enough to lean into you, stripping the garment off as best as he could, leaving him in a thin black t-shirt as you took the item from him. He wanted to whine out as you stood up, choosing instead to replace the pressure of your core over his with his hand instead, palming at his cock through the thick denim, and you grinned as you watched him, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed.

You stood before him, draping his shirt across his spread knees as he slumped further into the cushions, getting himself comfortable and popping the button on his jeans, swollen lower lip being nibbled as you played with the hem of your shirt. Your hips were swinging to the beat of the song, and then, you raised the garment up and over your head, letting it drop away to the carpet, his jaw dropping as he looked at you.

You picked up his flannel, pulling it up your arms, and leaving it open at the front, just barely covering your tits. You were an angel and also the devil, tempting him to do so many wrong things. Stretching his hands out toward you, he beckoned you back into his lap, an act you were more than happy to take as you bounded over to him, a pep on your few short steps, before you were settling back into his lap.

“Perfect.”

He let his hands find the flaps of the flannel, pulling it open wide enough to be able to admire your tits fully, letting you push your hair back away from your shoulders for his unobstructed view. Sealing one hand around your waist, he dragged you up closer, until you were almost pressed to him fully, before dipping his head down. His tongue dragged over a hardened nipple, taking the taut peak into his mouth and sucking harshly, as your hand wound into his hair. You tugged, roughly, a groan that vibrated along your entire body leaving him and making you shiver, and you made the prettiest little noises above him.

He switches sides, making sure to give the other half of your chest that same kind of attention, leaving wet marks and stinging watches along your skin that would become bright purple marks in the morning to match the colour of your eyes, and he just hoped you kept him around long enough to see them when they did become beautiful and prominent. He wanted to see his good work, he wanted to see the way he got to mark you up and leave his touch all over your body.

“Stiles..”

“I do love how you sound moaning my name, princess, but I’m not sure how much longer I can last when you're making noises like that and grinding yourself all over my cock like this.” You grinned, letting him kiss his way back up your chest and throat until he was taking your lips with his own. Your hands were moving down, tugging at his zipper as far as it would go, hid hips bucking up into his hand as he felt you drag a nail along his covered erection, breathy sounds between you both when you pulled away.

He only had to lift himself up for a moment, before you were tugging at his jeans, helping him to get them just far enough down his thighs for his boxers to be able to follow. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard and desperate for you, leaking precum along his skin, and he gave himself some form of relief. You were watching him, eyes wide as he pumped his length in one hand, the other dipping under your skirt rubbing over your core, and you bundled up your shirt for him.

“Y’know, all those times I thought about us, a quick fuck on your couch wasn’t how I had wanted our first time to be, but then again, I didn’t expect the cute chick across the hall to be a witch, wither, so..”

He used his thumb to drag your panties to the side, your sodden folds revealed to him, and he slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. “I’ll let you take it slow next time, I swear, but right now, I’d really like it if you’d fuck me.”

He could only nod, heart skipping a beat at the promise of another time. Your legs shifted, muscles clenching as he forced himself to take his touch away from your core and bringing his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your sweet essence from the thin digits. As you leaned over him, he was sure to line himself up, and then, you were sinking down onto him, your forehead flailing to his as your mouth fell open, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“You’re so fucking big.”

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispered the words, a little breathless and hanging on the edge of his orgasm already, and you seemed just as close, because as you finally sank all the way down and settled into his lap again, he could feel every pulse within your walls as you hugged around him.

It took him a moment, staving off his climax so that he didn’t come just from getting to feel you like this, and you looped your arms around his neck gently to find your purchase. Your nails were scratching lightly at the hairs at the base of his neck, his flannel once again flapping around you, panties pushed to the side to let him have access to your centre, and it was deliciously filthy.

Once you were settled, you circled your hips, a test movement, pleasure spiking in both of your systems and it felt like the temperature in the room was shooting upwards. Stiles could already feel sweat beginning to bead along his skin in a thin layer, and you pressed yourself in closer to him. Each time you shifted your hips you were moving a little more, every rock of your body into his, you were pulling yourself up just a little higher to be able to drop yourself back down onto his cock, stretching and squeezing around him.

You felt like velvet, slick and warm as you sheathed around him. You were precise and deliberate, and he couldn't help the wonton sounds that were leaving you with every drop down onto his cock, before you were taking him up to see stars every time, leaving the both of you resting in the clouds. Panted breaths, a scream in the back of your throat that tried to break out each time as you gave him broken moans of his name, picking up your pace further and further each time.

Once you were stable above him, you were moving with purpose, fast and quick as you rode him, gaining more confidence each time, and he was gripping you so tightly that there would be fingerprints all over your hips in the morning. He helped you go, lifting you up each time, only to pull you back down into his lap, thrusting up with a weak effort to meet you, but feeling you go wild each time. That same energy was back, crackling with more force, surging through him like nothing he had ever felt.

Stiles was in college, he was away from home and the weight of being the Sheriff’s kid for the first time, and he had experimented. He’d gotten drunk, and high, and hungover, but this was a whole new kind of thrill; it was like lighting up with fireworks and adrenaline all at once, like creating a bond with another person, and a tingling spread throughout his entire body as your magic bonded with his own. He hadn't felt this kind of singing in his blood since the day he’d managed to finish the circle with the mountain ash back when he was only sixteen, or breaking through the wild hunt barrier at almost eighteen.

These kind of thrills were rare for him, but they’d never been this strong, and as the two of you moved as one in the most intimate way that two people could, your mouth coming up to claim his as you silenced yourself and him, growing louder and more desperate as you went, he felt that final high beginning to build.

“‘M so close, honey.” His voice had taken on that same kind of scratchy rasp that he had in the mornings before he even broke into his day, “Oh, God, keep goin’.”

He knew his words were beginning to grow slurred, and he could barely buck his hips up into you. As everything within his body began to light up, he felt like all of his muscles were going lifeless, his body going boneless, because the heat was consuming him. He couldn't hold it back, he’d been waiting for so long to feel you this way, and his lips could barely even move back against your own as he went slack-jawed, exploding within your tight heat.

The send that he was shooting over the edge, you were following right after him, crying out his name into his mouth as you kept going against him, until you couldn't clumping down into his body as you trembled, and Stiles felt as though you’d milked absolutely everything from him that he had to offer. There was a crackling along his skin from everywhere that your fingertips smoothed over, sliding down from his shoulders so that you could press your cheek to the spot instead, fanning breaths rushing over his neck as you tried to catch your breath, racing heart just like his was.

You didn’t even bother to move from him, letting him throb within your walls with each flutter you made and each shift, and if you kept it up, he was sure he’d be ready for a second round, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he had that in him. Resting his head back against the edge of the couch, he let you lift yourself up and off of him finally, your legs shaking as you stood, offering him a weak smile as he took in your through fucked out state, before taking wobbly steps away from him, and disappearing down the hall.

He heard a door close, assuming you’d gone to the bathroom, and he leaned over to the coffee table to snatch up a few tissues, to clean himself up with, before sorting himself out too. He did the bare minimum, not even bothering to do up his jeans once he had them pulled back up, but he stretched out along the length of the couch to lay down, an arm popped under his head, and a little laugh on his lips as he did.

He took a moment to glance around, not missing the way that the plants all seemed to be blooming particularly beautifully, seeming more alive than ever. As he lifted up a hand before his face, rubbing his forefinger and thumb together, a spark travelled between the tips, and he felt a little in awe just at the sight of it.

“It's pretty incredible, right?”

He startled, jumping a little, before turning to look at you and propping himself up on his elbows as you lingered in the doorway. You had changed, your hair pulled back and out of your face, missing a few odd strands and you’d buttoned up his flannel along your body, mismatched and hanging unevenly, but still adorable. You took slower steps over to him, waiting for a second as you stood beside him, before he was lifting his arms and making it clear to you that you could lay with him, a smile gracing both of your faces as you flattened yourself along him, cheek pressed over his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You like feeling your magic, then?”

He lifted his palm, holding it to yours and admiring the final dying flares he saw, as the energy began to dissipate and absorb into his body and yours fully. “I’m not used to feeling special myself. I’ve always been a behind the scenes, research, kinda’ guy. I’m not used to being one of the main players.”

“Oh, hush. You told me your story, you were most definitely a key player, Stiles.” He shrugged under you, letting you cross your arms over his chest and prop your chin on them.

“Yeah, but I never really felt that way, and now I feel like I have something to offer.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips over his jaw with a sweet kiss, and he felt like he could most definitely get used to this feeling. Can I meet them?”

“My pack?”

You nodded, seeming a little shy now, and joy raced through him at the fact that you saw enough of a future with him to want to meet his friends an get to know them, and to once again be able to be completely open and honest with everyone, never having to hide anything from anyone, and being able to let you fully and wholly into his life. It was a surprise, because the more he’d thought about his future late at night when lying alone in his bed, he was so sure he’d never be able to really settle down, because he could never let someone in on his life in every single way, but with you, that wasn’t a problem.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Really?” You were studying him carefully, trying to ensure that he was telling the truth, and he gave you the most honey look that he possibly could, before lifting his head to meet your lips as he leaned in.

Soft and delicate, like a kiss that was shared between deep romance and longtime lovers, and he rested a hand on your cheek, holding you to him, and rolling you to the side, to sandwich you between the couch and his body Your thigh came up to rest over his legs, his palm slipping from your face to rest on your leg, drawing patterns on the skin until you pulled away to breathe, lips detaching from his as you whined a little. You stayed close, though, a soft look etched onto your features;

“I just want to meet a few more supernatural people, and get to know others who I don’t have to hide from.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to hide from them, and you’ll love them, just as much as they’ll love you. We’re a pretty odd group, you’ll fit right in.”

“You’re right about that ‘odd bunch’ thing. I’ve never met a banshee, or a - what did you call it? - werecoyote.” That was an undeniable truth, your head coming back down to rest on his chest as he shrugged, unable to deny that you were right. “Your wolves sound nice, too. All the other wolves I’ve met have been overly territorial and closed off.”

“Well, Derek used to be like that, but we’ve pulled him around a little. He is still broody, though.” You laughed at his joke, a sound that made his heart burst open slightly and bleed with affection, all for you, as you continued to take more and more pieces of his heart with every act, and he was falling in love with you faster than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t take notice of any of his lurking, by the way, it’s his twisted way of showing concern and care.”

“I’ll remember that, and if I ever catch him hiding behind a tree, I’ll know that it’s real friendship.”

“He does that, I’m serious, don’t underestimate him. I think my dad arrested him for stalking, once.”

“I think your dad would be who I am most scared to meet.” A fond tone in your voice, before he was pressing a kiss to your forehead, humming under his breath.

“He’ll love you the most, don’t worry.”

Silence fell between you both then, and he busied himself with tracing illegible drawings into your skin, simply enjoying feeling so close to you. It was irrationally domestic, and you were the final piece in his college life and college experience that was missing. Despite not being a wolf, he was unequivocally part of a wolf pack, and being surrounded so closely by such a tight-knit group of friends for those years had made him dependent on company and reliability, and he had been feeling so alone since leaving for college.

Scott had Malia, Lydia had rekindled things with Jordan, and even Derek had been (begrudgingly, to begin) hooked up with a deputy by his father, and they’d been on a few dates.

The last time he’d been home, he’d felt like a fifth, seventh, or was it ninth wheel, when Liam and Hayden were taken into account? He had been feeling awfully lonely lately, and he was glad to finally find someone that fit him perfectly, matching him like a glove.

“When I do introduce you to my friends, my pack, y’know, and my dad..”

You lifted your head, a little crease across your cheek from the fold in his shirt, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb gently, an attempt to remove the mark. “Yeah?”

“What should I introduce you as?”

“A witch.” You deadpanned, and he knew immediately that you’d clearly know exactly what he meant, but were playing with him, and he pouted, fixing you with a mock glare, before you were laughing to yourself over your joke, something so undeniably cute that he couldn't even pretend to be mad about it. “What do you want to introduce me as?”

Nudging your jaw a little with his, he puckered his lips, tempting you down to kiss him, and you were more than happy to press a series of sweet and short kisses to his lips. “I’d really like to formally claim you to be my girlfriend?”

He mumbled the words into your mouth, feeling your lips flick up at the edges in a smile as you gave him a kiss that was a little more firm, a little more loving and powerful, before whispering your reply; “Then we’re on the same page, because I’d like to introduce you to my coven back home as my boyfriend.”

“You have a coven?” He pulled back, a gasp of shock, and you giggled at him.

“That I do. Maybe I should tell you about them?”

“You absolutely should.” He insisted, his craving for knowledge taking over, and he couldn't have been more glad to whatever deity was watching over benevolently that he’d taken the choice to stay the first time knowledge had been offered, because it had led him to where he was now.

“It might take all night, maybe you should go and get a change of clothes. Get comfortable.”

“Is that an invitation to stay the night?” You only nodded, letting him roll you back over onto your back as he kissed at your neck. “I’ll buy you take out if you cuddle me later?”

“Cuddling and dinner? Glad I get to call you my boyfriend, now.”

“Not nearly as glad as I am to call you my girlfriend. My little witch.” His lips sealed over yours, silencing your laughs against his mouth as you teased him for the nickname, and he pinched a little at your sides. The mistletoe overhead grew a little more, a few of the berries dropping away and bouncing off of his back as the plant became bolder, just like the rest, that energy beginning to grow once again, as you got lost in each other’s touch.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles stilinski/reader #stiles stilinski/reader smut #stiles stilinski teen wolf #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien teen wolf #dylan obrien stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien

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thewhitefluffyhat · 2 years ago

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State of the Blog 01.01.23

Taking a quick break from queues for an announcement: Happy New Year, all!

For this state of the blog update, I’ve decided to show my hand a bit and list every one of the many projects I’ve been kicking around. Think of this as a kind of New Year’s Resolution, perhaps? I certainly won’t get to all of these, but I’m making it my goal in the coming year to at least finish a few!

(And yes, if one of these piques your interest, feel free to reply/message/reblog/etc. No guarantees, but it would certainly move it up in priority!)

Multichapter Fanfics

-If the Fifth Found Out: AU in which the Reverend Parents invite a Fifth adept over to exorcize Wake’s revenant. Abigail and Magnus then proceed to discover a war crime, report a war crime, and adopt a war crime in the aftermath. (Or they try to, anyway. It’s complicated, they only manage to get Gideon at first.)

-The Mysterious Curse of Castle Drearburh: Rumor has it that any suitor who seeks the Reverend Daughter’s hand in marriage is cursed to die soon after. Cam and Pal therefore put on their detective hats to investigate… by using negotiations for Camilla’s marriage to Harrowhark as cover! A Canon Divergence/Fake Arranged Marriage/Mystery AU, where determining the divergence event is part of the mystery. Also featuring: my aroace Cam headcanons, and eventual Griddlehark.

-Butterfly Daze: Seemingly typical Griddlehark Modern/College AU with a supernatural twist. But is Kiriona’s new roommate a vampire? A cryptid? A ghost? Or just a normal, if traumatized kid? Turns out the answer is none of the above… and John, the loving father who has always been part of Kiriona’s life, may know more than he’s letting on.

-Puella Magi Nonagesimus 💀 Magica: Crossover with the setting of magical girl series Madoka Magica, and a continuation of this snippet. TL;DR: magical girls as an excuse for a Time Travel AU. The story is split between the present day survivors in the wreckage of Canaan House, where Harrow and Gideon learn the ins and outs of being a magical girl while bodysharing, and Harrow’s wish-induced dreams of the past, where she and Gideon try to forge a better timeline.

Fanfic Oneshots, in order of more silly to more serious

-harrowhark nonagesimus does not like pizza: God orders pizza for the Lyctors on the Mithraeum. (Somehow.) This goes over exactly as well as you’d expect.

-Effervescent: In which Abigail is very confused as 200 dead Ninth children (led by a handful of shitty teens among them) attempt to crash Harrow’s River Bubble AU party.

-Growing Pains: Character study of ~13 year old Harrow, in which Gideon gets her first period and assumes (quite logically) that it must be another of Harrow’s attempts to kill her.

-All That Glitters: Harryanthe Arranged Marriage AU, where Harrow is running the riskiest puppet show of her life on the Third, Ianthe is initially pissed her dad is marrying her off to some weak-willed nun, and Yakety Sax is probably playing in the background as clueless narrator Coronabeth keeps dragging both of them off to various social events.

-Reverend Daughter for a Day: Back in their bodies and on the Ninth for [insert vague handwavy reasons], Harrow proposes that she and Gideon switch places. For one day, Harrow will be the servant and obey any orders Gideon gives her. No refusals, no limits. Naturally, everything that can go wrong, does go wrong.

Misc Projects

-Keep a Consistently Active Tumblr: For whatever reason, actually posting things as opposed to lurking is a major struggle for me, but let’s see how long I can keep this up! I’ve still got a few more analysis rambles on the backburner, and plenty of material for themed queues… the trick will be crossing that last step and actually putting them up.

-Gideon: The Last Bonebender: You know those “if TLT was written by a straight, cis dude, what would be changed?” satire posts? Imagine if instead, Gideon the Ninth was adapted for Hollywood by a straight, cis director. Just how bad could it be? Note: this is the closest project to being finished, but needs reworking to be less cynical and depressing. Oops...

-Gideon the Ninth for D&D 5e: A homebrew module that uses GtN as a jumping off point for a spooky dungeon and murder mystery adventure. Try your hand at the other Lyctor puzzles! Play out a full cavalier tournament between all the Houses! Attempt and probably fail to save Jeannemary and Isaac from their fate! …And yes, someone’s going to have to become a Lyctor at the end. Not happening while the owners of D&D are being jerks, that’s for sure.

-TLT Fanfic Rec Lists: At the moment, I’m up to August 2022 in my chronological journey through the AO3 TLT tag. And once I’ve caught up, I’ll have recs to share! Not sure if it would be better to do longer / broader topic lists, or lots of weird and hyper-specific themes like “Gideon Joins the Cohort AUs” or “Life on the Sixth” or “In Which Ianthe Is There.” Maybe a mix of both?

#the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #griddlehark #my tlt stuff #my ramblings #state of the blog #fanfic #having spectacularly failed to find the time for nanowrimo or yuletide #fingers crossed this will work out better #^^;

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therpdirectory · 2 years ago

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Site name and link: Charmingly Splendid, https://ecs.jcink.net Site genre: Based On TV Show Site info: Charmingly Splendid is a Charmed AU roleplay site based in modern era. Our plot started in between season 2 - 3, before we lost Prue Halliwell, most of the story from here onward is our creation so regardless if you've watched Charmed or not, you'll be able to make a character to fit into this new world we are creating. Your name: Paige Contact info: Discord Paige Yin#0119 Role(s) requested: All characters requested below would have plotting opportunities with my character(s), sometimes multiple of them and might be involving in some major site plot if you choose to use them that way. Some of these characters has a more complex plots that I'd like to work out, while others are more open. Either way, you may always contact me on Discord and we can hash out the ideas either of us have and make an even better, funner plot to write! Looking forward to chatting with you!

For Paige Matthews

Glen Belland ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ 26/ 27 years old ❥ Open profession

Glen Belland is Paige's high school (and perhaps even current) on-and-off boyfriend, the best friend who knows Paige very well and vice versa. The plot goes that Glen has left for Australia sometimes when Paige was in college, and even though they are worlds apart, I'd assume they keep in contact still! I'd say, perhaps Paige still has feelings for him and hoping that when he returns they could pick up where they left off (and vice versa). However, when Glen returns, perhaps some supernatural stuffs happened around Paige, and they could find out that she's a whitelighter together or not. But regardless, Paige would love to has her buddy around. If they would end up being together or not, is up to the player to decide. Glen and Paige should be the same, or similar in age (hence 26/ 27 years old). And he should count as a canon. The FC I am suggesting is Cody Christian, you can also use Colin Woodell, or anyone you feel is appropriate for this character, really. I am very open FC wise.

Kyle Brody ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ Early - Late 30s ❥ FBI Agent

Agent Kyle Brody, a Homeland Security agent who possessed vast knowledge of the supernatural world, more specifically witches and the Avatars. If you'd like to make him not as aware of the Avatars and blindsided by his urge to revenge, it would also be great. I like his character specifically cause he's morally grey, like he is good because he would do anything to help those needed his assistance, at the same time, he would hurt anyone standing in his way. I was thinking that his investigation of the Halliwell sisters has him crossing Paige's way, and maybe Paige found out about that her (potential, because she doesn't know yet) half-sisters are witches that way. In the middle if things get heated up, you know, they are both gorgeous people. Kyle is a canon, while I placed Nathaniel Buzolic here as a suggested FC, you do not have to pick him if you'd like to keep Kyle as a younger character. Know that if you're picking Nathaniel as suggested, Kyle will be in his mid to late 30s right now. Collin Woodell is another good choice since he's Danielle's real life partner and they too have tons of cute pictures we can actually spam each other. I am open to other suggestions too if you have a preference, feel free to run them by me.

For Leo Wyatt

This is more of a plot wanted than an actual wanted ad. So here we have Leo Wyatt, who I believe everyone following the Charmed franchise is familiar with! However, Leo we have here is not exactly like the Leo we have in the show. Our Leo here is a little rougher on the edges. He's still kind, he's still wise, and he still loves Piper more than anything in the world, but no one would call Leo a pacifist. His experience with Piper and realizing that the Elders' way being a little more than outdated, Leo isn't someone who would obey their rules and instructions anymore. Our Leo here is willing to fight. He will fight along with his charges if that's what he needs to do to protect them. He has also gained hand-to-hand combat skills and know how to use his Whitelighter powers in an offensive ways (like using orbs to levitate, orbing-telekinesis etc). So where did Leo learned all these skills you may ask, because from what we know of the Elders, they are not going to train their agents to fight. No, Leo actually found a band of Whitelighters who have been training to fight, Whitelighters who believe in more than just guiding and hiding behind witches' backs. This band of Whitelighters are called "The Rogues", and I am thinking there should have about 9 - 12 members. Let's keep it to a small group for now. I don't think The Rogues are evil, they just have their own freewill and have different believes than the Elders. They practice to fight and practice to use their powers to help the Greater Good in a more active ways than traditional Whitelighters would. They each could have their own stories that lead them down on this path.

"Lydia Martin" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: A Seer

Here we have "Lydia" which of course, does not have to be the name you pick. What I have in mind is that she has the ability of foresight and is able to warn the group about it, but if you'd like to change her ability, I'm open for it as well. Open personality and history, I am also leaving her age open, so she can be older or younger than Leo, but she would have been in the group longer than Leo because Leo was one of their newer recruit. I'd suggest the lovely Holland Roden as an FC, if you'd like to use someone else though, of course, feel free to run the idea by me. Suggested FC: Holland Roden.

"Malia Tate" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Snark and ways with words

Let me introduce you to "Malia", who I'd imaging being the snarky one in the group. I'd like her to be like, the trouble child of the Whitelighter and maybe even one of the few who has started with The Rogue. But like the other two, I'd leave her details to be mostly open so that you can have freedom to create this character. I'd definitely imagine her to be older than Leo, but still open age, open history, personality (if you do not like her to be snarky). Suggested FC is Shelley Hennig, you don't have to use her but I'd like to see more Teen Wolf actors/ actresses around the site and also for plotting purpose. Suggested FC: Shelley Hennig.

#jcink rp #jcink premium #character request #real life #city/town #supernatural #based on #romantic #platonic

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rpings · 2 years ago

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{Jcink | Character Request} Charmed and Dangerous

For Paige Matthews

Glen Belland ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ 26/ 27 years old ❥ Open profession

Kyle Brody ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ Early - Late 30s ❥ FBI Agent

For Leo Wyatt

"Lydia Martin" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: A Seer

"Malia Tate" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Snark and ways with words

"Cora Hale" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Lie Detector

This is "Cora", which I imagine to be quite a young Whitelighter to have joined The Rogue, she is probably very skilled and very much in deep troubles that they recruited her early. Again, most of her details are open, including but not limited to her history, personalities, age. I'm thinking perhaps because she is able to detect lies that she was the first one to spoke up for Leo when he requested to join the group, and maybe the two of them have a bond (give Leo and Piper some dramas please!). Suggested FC is Adalaide Kane, but once again, you can use someone else, if you'd like to use anyone who has tons of GIFs with Leo's FC, Daniel Sharman, I'd be more than happy too. Suggested FC: Adalaide Kane.

#jcink premium #character request #supernatural rp #fantasy rp #based on rp

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jcinktinder · 2 years ago

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Your name: Paige Contact info: Discord @ Paige Yin#0119

Site name and link: Charmingly Splendid, https://ecs.jcink.net Site genre: Based On TV Show Site info: Charmingly Splendid is a Charmed AU roleplay site based in modern era. Our plot started in between season 2 - 3, before we lost Prue Halliwell, most of the story from here onward is our creation so regardless if you've watched Charmed or not, you'll be able to make a character to fit into this new world we are creating. Role(s) requested: All characters requested below would have plotting opportunities with my character(s), sometimes multiple of them and might be involving in some major site plot if you choose to use them that way. Some of these characters has a more complex plots that I'd like to work out, while others are more open. Either way, you may always contact me on Discord and we can hash out the ideas either of us have and make an even better, funner plot to write! Looking forward to chatting with you!

For Paige Matthews

Glen Belland ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ 26/ 27 years old ❥ Open profession

Glen Belland is Paige's high school (and perhaps even current) on-and-off boyfriend, the best friend who knows Paige very well and vice versa. The plot goes that Glen has left for Australia sometimes when Paige was in college, and even though they are worlds apart, I'd assume they keep in contact still! I'd say, perhaps Paige still has feelings for him and hoping that when he returns they could pick up where they left off (and vice versa). However, when Glen returns, perhaps some supernatural stuffs happened around Paige, and they could find out that she's a whitelighter together or not. But regardless, Paige would love to has her buddy around. If they would end up being together or not, is up to the player to decide. Glen and Paige should be the same, or similar in age (hence 26/ 27 years old). The FC I am suggesting is Cody Christian, you can also use Colin Woodell, or anyone you feel is appropriate for this character, really. I am very open FC wise.

Kyle Brody ❥ Canon ❥ Human ❥ Early - Late 30s ❥ FBI Agent

For Leo Wyatt

"Lydia Martin" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: A Seer

"Malia Tate" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Snark and ways with words

"Cora Hale" ❥ Original ❥ Whitelighter ❥ Open Age ❥ Strength: Lie Detector

#jcink #jcink premium #character request #supernatural rp #fandom rp #new rp #ch: 18-24 #ch: 24-40 #ch: over 40 #ch: male #ch: female

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omegasmileyface · 4 years ago

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some distant tommy ghoulatta backstory :)

[HLVRAI Danny Phantom AU]

warnings: death mention

words: 2299

AO3 link

===

Feb 1965, Wagon Mound, NM

G-Man looked at the dry, historic town around him as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of a church. He was staying in a cheap hotel a few towns away, where he had first seen all that supernatural stuff as a kid. He had come back to ask around for local stories and try to get some semblance of research done himself, and he was lucky enough to hear about a guy in this town who was supposedly obsessed with ghosts. After getting his address and name — Benjamin Fischer — from a local at a diner who was intrigued by G-Man's search, he set off immediately.

Fischer's house was close to the church, so G-Man got out there and walked the rest of the way. It was uncomfortably hot with his jacket on so close to the desert, but he knew how quickly that could change.

The house was small and modern, with an unkempt yard and a cross visible in the blinded window. After G-Man knocked on the door, he investigated the porch. Despite the lack of attention to appearance everywhere else, lush bushes were kept in pots by the door. They bloomed with deep, pinkish-red rose-like flowers despite the time of year.

A man, presumably Benjamin Fischer himself, opened the door.

"Hello. I've heard you've been doing some research on spirits and the supernatural?" G-Man said, quelling the slight intimidation he felt with the confidence of a man on a mission.

Fischer raised his eyebrow. "Who are you, exactly?"

Aw, crap. He was so excited he forgot to introduce himself. "Sorry. You can call me G-Man. I'm looking to do some research myself, and I need a better jumping off point."

Fischer looked amused, but didn't stop frowning. "Do you have a real name?"

"I've been going solely by G-Man these last few years."

The older man smiled wryly. "Well, boy, I try to keep my research to myself. I can give you some advice, but that's about all."

G-Man's brow furrowed, and he forced his face back into a more neutral expression. "Advice would be wonderful," (though he doubted it was anything he hadn't heard before), "but why don't you share your research? The more people know about what's out there, the more we can be equipped for it."

Fischer looked to the side and scowled. "There are people here who think I'm crazy, or better yet, some kind of Satan worshipper. I'm sure they'd like to see what I've found and make all sorts of trouble for everyone in town trying to 'disprove' it. Hell, there are people who'd take what I've done, use it against me, and then take it for their own."

"Ah... could I help you with your research then? I have no intention of letting anything found by either of us into the wrong hands."

"Sorry, kid, not looking for an assistant at the moment. You'll have to look somewhere else. And that advice, before you go — ghosts are more than just the impressions of people who used to live. Trust your instincts, they're closer to spirits than your brain."

G-Man frowned and thanked the man before reluctantly walking back toward the church. He could probably spend the night searching for anything supernatural in this town, but he'd have to go back by morning. Maybe he'd come by some other time and pester Fischer again.

---

June 1967, Wagon Mound, NM

In two more years of searching on his own, G-Man had learned some more about the supernatural, but not as much as he'd wanted. He'd gathered from books that all spirits had a central energy made out of pure passion that held them together, that they had physical forms but they didn't align quite right with the living world, that they were connected to some spirit world — all understandably but frustratingly spiritual and speculative. The only thing that seemed to be consistent was that a European flower called blood blossom, the flower that was blooming outside Benjamin Fischer's house, distressed spirits enough to ward them off.

He was in New Mexico again to visit his old spots, trying to see if he could find a ghost fresh enough to talk to him somewhat coherently. A waitress at a diner in Wagon Mound had recognized him and told him that Fischer had died a few months ago and it may not be best to try to visit his house.

Of course, that's just what G-Man did.

Clearly, Fischer had lived alone, and the house looked untouched. The yard was colder than the rest of the town, though it was night, and from the way the hairs on the back of his neck spiked, G-Man was sure it was due to a paranormal presence. Either an effect of Fischer's studies, or he was haunting the place. If G-Man's research was correct, ghosts newer than a few years didn't have enough of a presence to really do anything, or even be conscious, but they tended to hang around where they had lived and affect the atmosphere there.

Following his instincts just the way the man had told him to before, G-Man walked around to the back of the house. There was a back door, the sort that might connect to a kitchen, but a small broken window revealed that the room inside was nothing of the sort. Instead it had metal tables like a lab, surfaces covered in books, and metal boxes lined up against the walls. Some boxes and jars in the room seemed to glow when he looked away from them, including a Florence flask which was knocked over on an otherwise clear table, spilling some translucent liquid which had yet to evaporate.

The closer G-Man got, the more the chill picked at his skin. He could tell he wasn't wanted here, but the dried blood blossoms in his pockets should keep anything too bad from happening. It was worth it for the knowledge he could — would — gain.

He climbed through the window. It was too small to be a comfortable fit, but the door was locked and he didn't want to break anything that wasn't already broken. On the way through, his hand picked up a small static shock. Strange, since the window frame was plastic, but stranger things still have happened during G-Man's studies.

A workbench directly across from the door caught his attention. In front of stacks of books was a torn piece of paper, stained by whatever substance was in the spilled flask. Wild but legible handwriting read:

The items in this lab are not to be moved without the utmost dedication to their protection. I am dead, but my findings are still not to be let out of my sight. Intruders will be faced with my ghost. The security of my work is likely the death of me, be prepared for it to be the death of you.

It was signed by Fischer, but the corner of the paper was smudged unreadable by the liquid, leaving just "Ben".

It was certainly very passionate. Confident, even, from the assumption that his ghost would be around in the time it would be needed. But Fischer knew more than G-Man, if nothing else, he could be sure his ghost would stay with any stolen items until it could punish the thief. G-Man was weary to open any books or boxes knowing this, but stepped back to at least look around the room. Perhaps something could be gained that way.

In his inspection, G-Man noticed one of the faded glows becoming brighter. Suddenly, it coalesced into a figure. Directly in front of him, Fischer's ghost hovered, dark blue eyes piercing despite the overall unsure translucency of his form. He was angry, as fiercely protective of his work as the note had implied. He was also... startlingly solid. This was the closest G-Man had ever been to a ghost, but he was sure that they were not usually so defined at the edges. This ghost had slightly wrinkled skin, and his chest was moving as if he were breathing.

In fact, G-Man was certain that in order for a ghost to collect enough ambient energy to cast a form, stay visible, and maintain a consciousness, their essence had to remain for several years. Even in a place of highly concentrated paranormal energy like this little lab, it would take a year or more for just the emotional consciousness to draw together into a spirit. For what was clearly Fischer to be here so soon, and so unusually solid as well... something was clearly wrong. G-Man's investigative curiosity was almost enough to overpower his instinctual fear.

As the spirit's eyes focused onto him, the air in the room grew drier. It started to pull at the moisture in his skin and made his fingertips feel hot. Every luminescent stain and vial grew brighter until they appeared to occasionally arc between one another. Tiny discharges of hot energy.

There was no way G-Man was getting out of this without at the very least explaining himself. He steeled his nerves to the best of his ability and looked directly into the ghost's eyes, willing himself to ignore the dark lifelessness of the pupils. "Do you... remember me?"

Fischer's head tilted to the side, less like he was trying to remember so much as like he was weighing whether to admit something. "...I do not know you." He looked unsure, questioning, even though behind his firm protectiveness was a layer of desperate honesty. Especially so soon after his own death, he had to be terribly confused, with a sense of purpose but no information as to why it was so.

...Of course, unless G-Man has been misunderstanding something major, and he remembered his life just fine.

Still, assumptions lead to danger when it comes to the supernatural, so he decided to test the waters.

G-Man pointed to the smudged note. "So, Ben..." He avoided calling the ghost by his full living name. For all he knew, there was some ghostly cultural taboo against using someone's old name. The most literal form of a deadname, he supposed. The note said "Ben" at the end, so perhaps if the ghost had no memory of his life he'd understand why G-Man would think that's his name.

Fischer growled. Alright, then, bad move. "That's not it." He was looking pointedly at the note, eying the staining almost as if scared. Wait, was he questioning the cut-off? He must not have been used to going as just "Ben" in life.

"...Not your whole name?"

Fischer shook his head harshly. He looked as though if he weren't fully invested in keeping G-Man away from his findings, he'd be curled up on the floor in frustration.

"Maybe..." started the ghost, "maybe it was... Ben... 'ri'? Benry?"

G-Man had to hold back a startled laugh. Maybe he was thinking of "Benji" or something similar, because as far as he was aware, "Benry" was nothing close to a name. That being said, he wasn't going to bring up the possible confusion. He was on thin ice as is.

"Well. Benry, sir, my name is G-Man. I'm a paranormal researcher, just like... just like the man this lab belonged to, and I've spoken with him before to share findings. I was hoping to make some observations of this room for my own research and leave. I promise not to harm you or anything in here. May I please take a look around?"

The spirit (Benry?) stared back at G-Man with a renewed fury. "NO! The research in this room stays here. If it gets out, they'll take it for their own uses, all they want is-"

"I promise to keep it away from the government!"

It was a fight-or-flight response, really, G-Man just blurted the first thing he thought Benry might want to hear. Honestly, he had no reason to assume what he didn't want was government involvement, that's a bit of a stereotype when it comes to rural areas, right? Just because G-Man was afraid of the government after getting the cops called on him for a ritual last year didn't mean every paranormal researcher was. And interrupting the ghost wasn't any way to earn his trust, God why wasn't his fear enough to shut him up? I mean, even if he didn't react violently — it would be respectable, considering G-Man's bold act — making a promise to a ghost? Aren't they like the fae? What if he's bound to it? He wasn't planning on sharing anything with the government, not by a long shot, but what if something came up?

Benry's eyes widened and bored directly into G-Man, expression unreadable. Then he softened. Almost literally, his harsh glow lessened and a degree of moisture returned to the room. "You promise."

It wasn't a question, but it didn't feel like a command either. It didn't need to be. An expression of relief. "We protect the research together. You can build on it. Without the findings, there's nothing to protect. We must keep it from the wrong hands."

G-Man was shocked. The shock didn't lessen when Benry, and the note, faded from view. Was he... trusted to keep this research?

After standing still for a minute and feeling the room come back together, he let out a weak, belated "thank you." He approached a closed book on one table. If nothing else, he had to come away from this with some new knowledge.

When he touched it, the pages hummed with the same dry spark as Benry's glare. ...Haunting equipment was a good way to stay close, G-Man supposed. It seemed he had not only Fischer's findings to help his career, but his own defensive spirit, odd as it may be.

#gman is like 20 in this. hes still calling himself gman though its a pseudonym #makes him feel more confident in his research and he doesnt want to associate with his past life i guess #idk i just didnt want to come up with a name for him lmao #tommy ghoulatta #this ones backstory ;)#my writing #hlvrai #its a crossover but it also stands as just... hlvrai ghost au i guess lmao #bloodblossoms on the front porch hell yeah #maybe the g in gman... stands for GHOST #anyway and then he took home the equipment and the samples and the journals and it properly kicked off the better part of his research car #eer wahoo !!#danny phantom #because you guys get to see it too even though its barely even dp related :)#hey remember how i finished 90% of this in one day and then said id post it the next and then it was another month? yeah

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atiny-piratequeen · 4 years ago

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Against the Tide: Tenth Voyage (Ch. 10)

Pairing : Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Action, Fantasy, Smut, Fluff

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death, Slow Burn, Happy Ending Endgame

Chapter Specific Tags: Repeated Main Character Death, Reincarnation, Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Graphic Blood and Violence, Brief Mentions of Mental Health Concerns

Chapter WC: 10k+

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag.

**A/N: Thank you Riza @not-majestic-bluenicorn for helping me out with the tarot card readings, ilysm

Taglist moved to the bottom of the work. If you’d like to be added to the taglist for this or my other works, feel free to fill out the form here after reading the full post. AO3

Taglist

← Last Voyage Next Voyage →

The sound of Seonghwa’s screams from that night still haunts the crew.

They’re fortunate, Yunho thinks.

Though, he’d never say it aloud and Geb is kind enough not to call him out on the bitter, spiteful thoughts when they arise.

Anyway, the crew was fortunate.

Most of them are lucky that all they heard was the screams of their First Mate- no -their new Captain. The crewmembers below the deck and the ones unconscious didn’t have to deal with the sight of their captain, the one who held them all together, breaking down.

The fear on his face. The defeat. The pain. The terrified, yet resolute tone in his voice.

All that haunted them was the screams of the ex prince, which, coupled by an explosion of ice, creating a fortress of frost around them, was a beacon in the night for what had happened.

Yunho had to drag him out of the ocean. Nearly got stabbed doing so. It took an hour of Seonghwa diving into the depths, freezing everything around him and reaching fruitlessly before Yunho snatched him back to the surface.

He’d nearly been frozen and stabbed for his efforts and the crew watched on as Yunho pinned Seonghwa to the deck, thick vines keeping him still as he screamed and thrashed.

Just behind him, Mingi stood back with an unconscious San in his arms. Wooyoung was at his side, eyes wide as tears rolled down his cheeks while Yeosang leaned over the taffrail, emptying the contents of the dinner he’d worked hard to make into the ocean. Jongho still lay unconscious under the broken planks of wood in the hold, sea water soaking his clothes and Whiro noticeably absent from his skin for once.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! HONGJOONG! HONGJOONG!” Seonghwa screamed, his voice raw and cracking as he thrashed in Yunho’s arms.

None of them had ever seen the level headed ex prince fall apart like this. He bore his teeth at him, trying to wrestle his way free, freezing parts of his body to try and get Yunho to let him go. The sight of the raven-haired immortal coming apart at the seams broke everyone’s heart and Geb gently whispered into Yunho’s ear so he could settle Seonghwa down the hard way.

They weren’t getting anywhere like this.

So Yunho sighed and created a small flower near Seonghwa’s head, tears slipping down his cheeks. Seonghwa looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying.

“H-Hong-”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Small spores wafted out of the flower and slowly Seonghwa’s thrashing slowed down. He felt his body grow heavy as Yunho put his head in his lap, crying quietly as Seonghwa’s pitch black hair slowly went back to it’s natural blonde color.

“N...o...Hongjoong...putois…”

Yunho wished all that haunted him was the screams, and not the guilt of not being strong or fast enough to keep him from disappearing. That Hongjoong’s quivering, terrified voice didn’t knock around his head as much as the anguished howls of Seonghwa.

Unfortunately, that was all it was. Wishful thinking.

-x-

- I finally get what you've been saying

Now that we're knee deep side by side

The storm clouds are circling above us

As we struggle against the tide-

-x-

There are intricacies that come with warfare, the king knew these well.

Though, even he may admit that this was an... unfortunate miscalculation.

Getting to a point in Hongjoong’s mind where he was distracted enough for him to actually affect his powers was leagues more difficult than he’d ever let anyone know. For as much as he antagonized the pirate, the dragon inside would admit he had much more mental fortitude than he originally gave him credit for.

Stupid mortals and their useless sense of ‘love’.

Though, technically, he wasn’t a mortal anymore.

Whatever.

Regardless of what the little captain was classified as, the fight with the one called ‘Priscilla’ had left him in such a panic that the dragon was able to break through, tap into the core of their-no, his -powers, and snatch it from under him while he was fighting for everyone’s lives.

Disgusting.

He figured he’d distract the foolish captain long enough for him to kill him mentally and rid himself of the beast.

Oh, and sink that damned ship and rip it’s crew to pieces. For fun.

He’d never expected a curse to be placed on him because of his intervention. Not only did the she beast strip the captain of all of his knowledge of who he was and his crew, she had inadvertently banished the dragon to the farthest recesses of the captain’s mind.

As the king stood, he couldn’t see light in either direction.

He had to get back to the front so he could take control. He had to break out before the captain remembered and broke the curse. He could handle Pricilla later.

With a scoff, he turned into his dragon form and snorted.

A minor misstep. He could outsmart some stupid immortal wannabes and that grotesque bastard child.

Then, he’d create havoc.

For fun.

And revenge.

But mostly fun.

-x-

-I feel your grip firm on my shoulder,

But this fear in my head won’t subside,

They patiently circle around us,

As we hold out… -

-x-

“Do you see those men there? They hold your entire fate in their hands.”

Hongjoong panted, blood running into his eyes as his hair was pulled back roughly. On the other side of a clear glass bubble, he could see seven men in a room. There was a tall blonde man pacing. Every time his boot touched the floor, it would freeze before the ice melted.

There was a taller man holding onto two smaller men who were crying.

Something was said and the blonde turned suddenly, his body rigid. A buffer man stood between him and the group, reaching for something on his person. The blonde man crossed the room and took his hand, the tips of his fingers frosting around the man’s wrist as he glared at him, saying something.

Hongjoong couldn’t hear a word either of them were saying, nor did he care. He pivoted on his heel, elbowing the monstrous woman behind him in the face before he broke off into a run.

He didn’t know where he was going, but he figured if he ran far enough, screamed loud enough-

Something hard slammed into his back, knocking him forward. He rolled, his clothing soaked by the water as he wheezed, trying to catch his breath. When he looked up, a rabid dog was staring him down.

He screamed in terror and backed away, eyes wide.

Who was she? Why was she doing this to him? Where even was he?

Fangs sunk into his thigh before he was dragged back towards the woman, kicking and screaming.

A dark smile came to her face.

“Get real comfortable, little pirate. With how your sorry crew looks, you’ll be stuck here with me forever and ever~ You’re here because of them, at the very least, you should know that they’re the reason you’re here.”

-x-

- Oh, father why have they forsaken me?

You warned me that they would,

The curse is passing down the bloodline,

Misspoken and misunderstood.-

-x-

“Seonghwa, all I’m saying is we can try it out-”

“We’re not calling that woman!”

Jongho pursed his lips, annoyed at the older immortal raising his voice at him, while Wooyoung flinched and whined behind him, sitting with Yeosang in Yunho’s arms as the two of them cried.

“What else are we going to do? How else do we start? We don’t even know what happened to Hongjoong fully or where that witch took him!” the Maori man snapped back.

Seonghwa paced like a caged animal, but eventually scoffed, admitting temporary defeat.

“Fine. Call her.” He hissed. Jongho eyed him for a moment before reaching for the feather dangling from his hip. Whiro curiously shifted along his skin, but Jongho focused on the feather, holding it out in front of him.

“Hyuna!”

Seonghwa and the others stood and waited.

And waited.

And waited….

And...waited….

“Why...isn't she coming?”

Seonghwa’s nostrils flared in anger before he barked out a laugh.

“Oh, look at that. She’s not coming . You wait around for her and we’ll never find Hongjoong. Right now, we can start by finding out who fucking stole that fucking staff.” He hissed.

The temperature in the room drastically lowered as ice cold grey eyes scanned over everyone in the group.

They lingered on some more than others.

“It wasn’t me. Don’t stare at me like that.” Mingi’s voice was hurt as he looked down at the floor. Seonghwa’s jaw ticked.

“I didn’t say it was you.” He stiffly informed him.

“You didn’t have to. I was raised around Bella Rose, I know an accusatory look when I see it. It wasn’t me.” He muttered, his voice quieter. San noticed the clench of his fists and the tears welling up in the boatswain’s eyes and moved to place a hand on his back. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, keeping his eyes on the duo. Yeosang began to hiccup through his sobs in Yunho’s arms, so the man stood, catching Seonghwa’s attention.

“I don’t...think that should be our top priority. Not right now.”

“I disagree. One of you stole the staff, and Hongjoong is gone now. That seems pretty damn important. Which one of you did it?” He spat, malice dripping from his voice. Even Jongho flinched back, his brows pulled together. Whiro shifted along his skin and tutted before lifting upwards.

Jongho moved to reel him in, but he was met with more than the usual amount of resistance and Whiro’s voice in his head.

‘For once, trust me, kid.’

Jongho pursed his lips and let Whiro form into a mirror image of himself aside from the blonde hair, red eyes, and ta moko. He rolled his shoulders and looked at Seonghwa, who looked unimpressed and fed up before anything even left the fragmented god’s mouth.

“If you’re going to talk shit, save-”

“Nah, you’ve said enough the past few days. Shut up and listen for once, prince.”

Seonghwa snarled, but Whiro ignored him, keeping his thick arms crossed as he spoke. Even Jongho looked on curiously as Whiro continued.

“What exactly are you gonna do with that information? Hm? Hurt one of them? Kick them out? Is that what the old captain would have wanted?”

Seonghwa looked taken aback-and he wasn’t the only one.

Seven pairs of eyes watched Whiro in shock.

“Whoever stole it doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is whether you like it or not, you’re the captain now. From what I understand after Jongho and I got knocked the fuck out, you were told to protect this ship and it’s crew. Last time I checked, this temper tantrum you’re throwing isn’t protecting shit, not even yourself.”

“Am I not allowed my hurt? My anger? Hongjoong was...Hongjoong was my first love, he saved my life-”

Whiro rolled his eyes.

“Listen, I’m stuck here in this body for all of eternity and I feel what he feels,” He jabbed his thumb in the direction of a shocked Jongho before he kept talking. “Get your shit together. Stop your sniveling, and start being the leader the shortstack knows you can be. The kid is strong. He may have lost this, but at one point, he had eight spirits inside of him and didn’t fall completely to ruin. Instead of doing the exact opposite of what he said to do and tear this crew apart, wipe your nose, wash your face for fuck’s sake, and go find the shortstack. He needs you, all of you. It’s been a week and we’re still in Greece. I’ll give you a day or so longer to get those tears out before I expect all fucking seven of you to quit bitchin’ and start searchin’. Do I make myself clear?”

Seonghwa blinked before he ran a hand through his hair.

“Gods, is it that bad that the literal God of Evil is trying to help?”

“Yes, actually.” Whiro responded without missing a beat, drawing an involuntary laugh out of some of them.

“I’m stuck to Jongho for all of eternity. I’d rather not to deal with all of these stupid ass gushy ass emotions normally, but since I have no choice now, I’d rather we pull ourselves together. Oh, and when I get my hands on that serpentine bitch, you can all step aside. I’ll take care of her myself.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but turned to the group, sighing as he bowed himself down.

“I...I’m sorry.” There was more sitting on his tongue, but that was all he said for the time being, turning to leave. Once the sound of his boots on the wood retreated down the hall and out of earshot, everyone let out a relieved sigh, turning to look over at Whiro.

“Holy shit. You helped us.” San muttered.

Whiro cocked a brow.

“Helped you? Please. I’m just tired of the back and forth and even ol’ Jongie boy here is getting affected by all this more than I’d like, for us to share a body. I helped myself, nothing more.” It was a lie, and all of them knew that much, but no one called him on it. Before he disappeared into Jongho’s skin, however, he did have something else to add.

“Though, my words will only light the fire under his ass and distract him for so long. You all seem content not knowing who took it, and that’s strange to me, but whatever. I suggest you all find the pipsqueak captain before blondie starts getting in his own head again. I can’t assure you all I can step out of Jongho every time Seonghwa becomes overwhelmed with anguish. I put these emotions in the world, I know their power. You don’t want the ice prince coming after you because most of you won’t be able to stop the rage that kid has inside from this. So find him. And quit feelin’ so damn sorry for yourselves.” With that, Whiro settled back onto the skin of Jongho’s arms.

Everyone glanced at each other before standing to go to their own respective rooms except Yunho, since they had gathered in his room.

As one of them left, his shoulders slumped lower than the others, his heart thundering in his chest.

‘I’m sorry I took it...I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...I didn’t know it would be this way, please forgive me, I just-’

-x-

-We're losing light

And strength of will

The darkened depths beckoning still

And we hold on

Against the tide-

-x-

Dawn pursed his lips.

“The pirates called for you. Should we get going?”

Hyuna lifted her head from the tub of water she was mostly submerged in.

“Can’t. They’re in Greece. If I stepped foot in Greco-Roman territory again, Zeus would surely come down from Olympus himself to strike me down. He’s still bitter I didn’t just accept my role as the harbinger of evil to mankind and then die off like the toy he created me to be. Whatever the boys need me for, I’ll just apologize next time they call on me. I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, the last time they called me, I got my ass kicked. They’ll live if I just take a rain check this once.” Hyuna pouted from the tub before sinking back into the water, her inky hair making the water seem like it was pitch black.

Dawn watched her for a moment before humming and turning to sharpen his sickles.

Maybe she had a point.

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

When Lloyd answered the door that one cold night in January, he wasn’t expecting his son on the other side of the door. His lips parted in surprise.

“Jesus it's cold, Lloyd, why is the door op-YUNHO!”

Yunho laughed through his tears as Robin shot out from behind Lloyd, nearly knocking him down as he hugged him tight. His dreads, though graying, were much longer than the last time Yunho saw him, and he couldn’t help the big smile that crossed his face as the sound of thundering footsteps followed by excited screams pierced through the night air.

The smell of sapodilla and of Barbados lilies flooded his nose with the smell of cerasee clinging to Robin’s clothes.

Before he knew it, he was crying, relieved to see all four of his parents in good health.

Lloyd observed them with a small smile on his face, before he noticed the men standing just off behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Lloyd, one of Yunho’s fathers. My partners will introduce themselves once they’re finished hugging the daylights out of our poor son...though...there seems to be more of you than last time, and I don’t see the captain…?”

Yunho tensed immediately, and it didn’t go unnoticed by his parents. Mei pulled away first, noticing the wobble of Yunho’s lip and Valeria cupped his cheeks.

“Ay, lad...what’s wrong baby?”

“I’m...I’m the captain now.” Seonghwa spoke, though he didn’t meet any of their eyes. Robin pulled away, as well, and Yunho sighed, rubbing his arm.

“I...I came home because we need some help.” He murmured.

All four of them exchanged a look before Lloyd stepped aside.

“Come inside from the cold, boys. Mei will brew some tea, and you can explain what happened.”

-20 years Later-

Mingi sat in silence as he sat in a cathedral. He had taken some time away from Yunho’s island to visit another, picking up a few books to read from a shop on curses and the like. Was it the most ideal place to be reading something like this? Most likely not, but he had to do what he needed to.

The crew had stayed near the Caribbean Islands, doing their absolute best to find somewhere, anywhere to start.

It was stifling, with tensions so high. Some members from the original crew had either moved on or passed away trying to help Seonghwa and the others locate Hongjoong, and the blonde captain had been adamant about not bringing new members in.

There...was no love lost between the seven of them, Mingi liked to think, but he’d be lying if he said Seonghha hadn’t put up a wall between all of them and himself. After Whiro put him in his place, he seemed to mask his true anguish and hurt, and they all could tell it was taking a toll on him, though he always put on and front when he was around them.

He was the leader. The captain. He had to keep himself together, lest they all fall apart. Hongjoong trusted him to do this much. To protect them. If that meant suppressing his own emotions for the betterment of the crew, so be it. It wasn’t like it was something he didn’t know how to do already.

He was raised as royalty, next up for the throne and title of a king. Kings couldn’t show any cowardice and weakness. Seonghwa could hide away his emotions well enough.

Though, that was a lie. They could all see it. The chips in his icy exterior. The tremble in his lips when he kissed them. The slight, barely there crack in his voice when he went to reassure them. Seonghwa was falling apart and masking it with layers of ice, but none of them had the heart to call him out.

Not when they were falling apart too.

An air of failure and guilt clung to them and no amount of sweet words from Yunho’s parents could hold it back for too long.

Speaking of parents...

Mingi’s fingers trembled on the page. Right. He had to return to the island soon. Lloyd had passed away of natural causes from his old age and they would be having a celebration of life for him tonight.

The four of them all but put a pause on their work to help out with locating Hongjoong, studying everything from mythology, to curses themselves.

For two decades, they tirelessly helped them, and Mingi was forever grateful. Honestly, it was all four of them that kept the boys from completely losing hope. From the Irish, foul-mouthed tongue lashings they (lovingly) got from Valeria, to Robin taking their mind off of it with teaching them capoeira, to Mei gently telling them Korean folktales over cups of tea when the stress was too high, and finally, old Lloyd teaching all of them the way of herbal medicine and always lending an ear when they needed to vent.

The four of them had all but become the in-laws to the group, and Mingi was forever grateful.

“You look troubled.”

Mingi jolted, closing his book as a nun walked up to him. Mingi scooted over as she sat beside him, placing her hands on her lap as she looked forward past the pews to stare at the beautiful organ at the forefront of the hall.

He subtly hid the book behind his thigh, clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, I just needed somewhere quiet to read and-”

“You’ve been staring at that page for half an hour. Either that passage is really good, or you’re troubled.” She laughed lightly. Mingi stared at the side of her face. His brow furrowed.

Why did she seem so familiar…?

“Would you like someone to lend an ear? We have a confessional, or I could just listen.” She offered, kind brown eyes staring into his own. He lowered his gaze to his hands and sighed.

“I’m just...looking for someone close to me. They were taken away and I don’t know if I can find them or where to start.” he muttered. The nun tilted her head before crossing her feet at the ankle, sitting up straighter.

Mingi expected her to mention God, they were in a place of worship, after all.

“I think you should take time to clear your heart and your mind. You’re very troubled and you won’t be able to focus on your objective when you are so conflicted. Life...throws lots of hurdles at you. Take time to catch your breath and don’t be afraid to ask for help. You can be surprised how asking different people for advice will steer you in the right direction. Sometimes you need to take a step back and look at it from a different angle. Remember that, and I hope you find your friend.” She smiled and stood up, waving to Mingi as she turned to leave.

“Wait!”

She paused.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry if this is...a weird question, but what is your name, Sister?” He inquired. She blinked in surprise before sending him a kind name.

“Mine? My name is Sister Gracie.”

-x-

Seonghwa stood in front of a mirror, looking at his reflection. His jaw was clenched tight as he wiped his eyes. He had to pull himself together. Two decades and they haven’t found him yet.

He looked into his own grey eyes, his voice tense.

“I’m not giving up on you. I’ll never give up on you. I’ll find you, mon petit putois.” he muttered, adjusting the buttons to his shirt.

What he couldn’t tell, in a plane beyond the one he was standing in, was Hongjoong was looking back at him.

Panicked fists slammed against the invisible aquatic wall that separated the two of them.

“Hey! Hey!! I’m screaming at you, please!” Hongjoong looked behind him, finding something slithering in the depths of water behind him. Bubbles erupted from his mouth as he screamed louder, his voice getting raw as he reached desperately for the vision of the blonde man. He pressed his palm to the man’s image, tears in his eyes.

“ Please! I’m screaming, I’m begging! Why, why can’t you hear me?! Help me!”

A thick tentacle wrapped around his waist, pulling him roughly. Hongjoong scrambled, pressing both hands to the barrier. A laugh echoed from behind him before he was snatched back, away from the image of the blonde man.

In the guest room, Seonghwa placed a palm on the cool mirror, eyes downcast.

“I’ll find you. No matter how far you are, Hongjoong.”

-x-

-Beneath the storm and left to fight alone

Remember son, you're reaping what you've sown

Under the waves and sinking like a stone

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

He can feel it. Every time he dies. Every time he’s reborn and has a different name.

~1668, the first death after the curse was placed on him, he’s trampled by a horse.

1690, he can feel his throat closing after a fatal allergic reaction.

1712, an accident while trying to help create the first working steam engine.~

Hongjoong feels it all. It doesn’t help, the she-beast likes to toy with him. Sometimes she lets him roam free, in the vast expanse of...wherever he was trapped in. He had no concept of the passage of time anymore while he was in here. Everything felt...stalled and floaty. The woman told him he had been there for almost a century, in her clutches, but he paid it no mind.

That was absurd.

~1734, flash, then it’s gone with a lightning strike.

1756, huddled up for warmth, only to die by the morning from exposure getting lost in the mountains.

1778, blood loss from a carpenter accident. He was a careless man in this particular life.~

Sometimes she leaves him alone. For very long periods of time. He doesn’t know if he prefers that or not. On one hand, her torture was agonizing, between the way she’d wound him, leaving him on the brink of what surely should have been death, but unlike his selves on the outside, he couldn’t die in here.

No, he had to slowly power through the pain, slowly heal in this god forsaken place, and then she’d come back, and start all over.

He envied the other ‘hims’ on the outside. They got to live lives, all of which unfulfilling and mostly in poverty, but they still got to live them, and then they all died on November 7th, only for the piece of his soul to be cast away to another part of the world, into a newborn and reborn once again.

Then the cycle continued. He watched it all from this space. His lives, his deaths, over and over again.

The woman never called him anything other than cruel names and ‘Captain’, though he had no idea of what anymore.

Hell, he was pretty sure he’d forgotten his own name while trapped in here.

~1800, a casualty in the Quasi War.

1822, a fall from a moving locomotive.

1844, a fatal encounter with a wild boar.

1866, a mine shaft collapse.~

When he’s alone for decades at a time, he feels a bit of his sanity slip. Like he’ll never get out of this place. Like he’ll be here for all of eternity. Sometimes, he lays on his back, with his eyes closed for as long as he can, and waits.

Nothing ever happens, but sometimes it's easier to just...exist. Rest his eyes and his tired body. He hasn’t given up. Not yet, anyway, but sometimes it's better for him to just... be.

He’ll never admit to that woman that sometimes he looks forward to her arrival when she comes back from leaving him for so long, just because her presence grounds him into reality.

Or, rather, whatever hellish reality he’s found himself in at her hands.

At her hands, and as he looks out at the bubble she forces him to look at, finding those same seven men. Or, rather, two of them, this time.

They’re in Paris, the one with the dimples has an arm around the other one’s waist, muttering something into his ear. He nudges him before a tender smile comes to his lips and the two share a kiss before disappearing into a hotel room.

The brunette looked away, not sure why he was made to follow these people along though his time here. She always sneered in his ear that they were to blame, that they were the key to getting him out, that they were all happier without him and had forgotten him at this point.

She never showed him the seven of them tirelessly searching for him. He didn’t even know how hard they were working. She carefully picked out the rare moments they took time to themselves to catch their breaths and try and stabilize themselves, painting them as people who didn’t have any sense of urgency or care in the world.

The cook who made large meals with a big smile on his face. The inseparable duo, always attached at the hip, in each other’s space, bringing love and comfort to one another. The tall man with his nose in the books, glasses perched on his nose as he spent days engrossed in his books. The other tall one, filling out his notebooks with whatever hasty, nearly illegible sprawlings came to him as he sat amongst plants. The rugged one with the curious markings on his arms and legs that sometimes shifted and formed some dark being. Hongjoong would be surprised, but he had an aquatic beast breathing down his neck with tentacles for legs and rabid dog heads extending from her waist, so he would be lying if he said he was truly surprised.

The only one that never looked like he was relaxed was the blonde. Pricilla didn’t show him for long, but whenever he was in the background of those visions she’d hand picked for him, he looked like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. An air of guilt and anguish always settled underneath whatever expression he happened to have on his face, and it always made Hongjoong tilt his head and gave him a small flicker of hope.

~1888, a fall during the construction of a new building.

1910, a stage accident during the production of a play.

1932, burned alive saving a child from a fire.

1954, starvation.

1976, a hostage, taken out in an unsuccessful negotiation.~

He’s exhausted. He wonders if Pricilla is too. Doesn’t it get exhausting to do this to someone? Was what happened that led him to this point really that bad?

He watched his soul go into another body, sitting down and watching this one grow up. Quite the rebellious one, this version of himself. From his mullet, to the dark makeup around his eyes and the piercings littering his ears.

The trapped man watched him, grateful Pricilla had chosen to leave him alone for the time being.

He looked at a calendar on the wall behind the other him as he walked by one day, spotting the ‘1997’ on the wall.

Ah, only a year left until he’d die and another incarnation of him would come.

One day, as the other him is looking in the mirror, the trapped soul stands and stares at him. He knows he looks like hell, though he’s grateful Pricilla never showed him what he looked like. Hell, at this point, he wasn’t sure if these versions of ‘himself’ were really him, or if it was all just an elaborate lie.

“I’m right here. I’ve been right here. You’re lucky, living on the outside. You don’t even know I’m here, do you? You can’t see me, they never can.” He muttered bitterly.

The man on the other end paused the application of his makeup, his cut brow twitching.

“I can hear you. I liked it better when you were just some weird, fucked up version of myself in my dreams, though. I have enough on my plate without worrying about if I need to see a shrink for voices in my head.”

He froze.

“You can hear me?! You can hear me, really?!”

The other him narrowed his eyes.

“Jesus, you’re loud. Yes, I can hear you.”

He stared wide eyed at himself and for the first time in centuries, he had a flicker of hope. He wasn’t sure what changed, but for once, he got the fire in his whole body to get up and fight with his whole body once more.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“You still haven’t forgotten the pirate from Delphi?”

Grey-ish blue eyes opened slowly and looked up at a pair that were identical.

“I could have done something, Tem.”

A small hum came from her lips as she crossed her legs and stared at him. She reached over, smoothing down his blonde hair before she pulled him into a hug.

“Why do you cling onto that immortal? He was only with you for but so long.”

“He made an impression. The way he spoke of his family and his crew, it was honestly the most genuine and pure emotions I’ve seen in centuries, and still, I haven’t quite seen anything like it.” he muttered.

He was met with a small hum.

“So, centuries later, several incarnations of him later, and you still want to step in and help? Is it because of Hyacinthus?”

He pursed his lips, looking down at her collar, biting his lip.

“I-”

“He’s gone, Apollo. But I see this means a lot to you. Father and Uncle have their hands tied with their...ugh...escapades, so I doubt you’d find much resistance. I can...I can try and help you. I hate to see my brother like this.”

Blue eyes widened and he pulled back.

“Artemis-”

“I said I can try . You and I, there is only but so much that we can do. This may even require you to step out from Olympus, out from our domain, and into the domain of other deities. Some of them may not be too privy to actually help out. Our father hasn’t left the greatest of impressions on the other sky deities and they tend to run the show. But, I will try for you.” She kissed the top of his head and sat back.

“We should get started. We should look into this curse a bit more. If it was our...darling cousin that put the curse on the man, I wouldn’t be surprised if she put in some hidden stipulations.”

He stood, eyes determined.

“Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

Artemis smiled and led him out of the room.

“Let's start by talking to the Fates. Maybe they can tell us where we can start.”

-x-

-We're slowly losing ground

And hope is harder to maintain

When all the prayers we've prayed

Feel lost like tears in the rain-

-x-

The king snarled, exhaustion pulling at his form.

Really, how fucking long had he been there? Was he even going in the right direction? Which way was up or down?

The heavens themselves wouldn’t save that damn beast of a woman when he got to the front of the pathetic pirate’s mind. He swore it on his own pride and honor, he would revel in breaking her in half.

Then those incompetent ass pirates. He was certain if they had gotten to the kid sooner and broke whatever curse was inflicted, he would’ve already been at the forefront of the captain’s mind once more.

Instead, he was here, swimming in the inky blackness of this idiot’s mind, unsure if he was even-

“-member me?”

He blinked, hearing an echo. His scaled head snapped up, pausing momentarily.

Was that…?

“I have dreams, yes. Of past ‘mes’, I guess. You’re really kind of persistent.”

“I’m sorry, I just...I need you to remember fully who you are, who we are. You’re the first one of me that can see and hear me. I think maybe...Maybe we can break the curse?”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

The king’s fangs glinted as he looked towards the sound of the voices.

“F i n a l l y.”

-x-

-The waters pulling down

The moon's eclipsing the sun

The ending that we knew would come

Has finally begun-

-x-

Joong wasn’t much.

He lived his life poor and disinterested in life. His only friend was a fortune-telling, self proclaimed sun witch, and his only real interest in life was his motorcycle.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The dreams that plagued him since he was a child, of past lives and their subsequent deaths, none of it interested him.

They, like this persistent voice in his head for the past year, harping on a ‘curse’ or whatever, were just an inconvenience. He hadn’t heard from the ‘other him’ in a while, so maybe it was just an illusion from staying up late too many nights or something.

Either way, all this talk of mythical creatures and curses was truly a bother.

“Ah, you’re here. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

He ducked under the beaded curtain of the fortune telling shop, sitting across from a gorgeous woman with feline eyes.

“I told you I’d come, Siyeon. It is your birthday.”

Siyeon smiled softly and reached for his hands, gently rubbing her thumbs along the back of them.

“Yeah, but you never let me read your cards.”

Joong shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his sandy brown mullet.

“Yeah, well. Happy birthday, how do you want me to do this?” He inquired. She laughed and pulled out a beautiful deck of tarot cards.

“You can shuffle the cards. Pull three of them and place them in a triangle formation and flip them one by one for me, okay?” the witch seemed excited about him participating, so he sent her a small, kind smile. He didn’t quite believe in any of this, but Siyeon was someone incredibly important to him, so just this once, he would go along with it.

He shuffled the cards, humming a birthday song to Siyeon while he did so before he followed her instructions and plucked three of the cards from three different sections of the deck, placing them in front of him in the shape of a triangle.

“Okay, flip them.”

Joong nodded and flipped the cards one by one.

Siyeon’s smile immediately fell.

A Reversed Emperor, The Tower, and the Three of Swords.

“Well that doesn’t look pleasant.” Joong tried to tease, but Siyeon’s expression didn’t crack. She looked up at him, brows pinched together. Joong shifted in his chair, the chains attached to his leather pants jingling from the move.

“Well? You gonna tell me what my fortune is, Si?”

“Right...right. Um...First is the Reversed Emperor. This is normally a symbol of power and being the king of kings, of sorts but um...reversed, there seems to be a lot of turmoil within you. You don’t have as much control as you’d like to believe you do, and it’s left you with a fake sense of safety and security.” She stared at the card before looking towards the second one.

“The Tower...there is chaos brewing for you, Joong. Chaos and destruction, and soon, something will happen that will absolutely turn your whole world upside down. The last, the Three of Swords, means heartbreak of some form is coming. It can be interpreted as something to do with the relationships you have, but it also can be in reference to some kind of terrible pain and suffering.”

“Well, that sounds welcoming.” Joong hummed, shrugging a shoulder. Siyeon looked at him, her face conflicted.

“I-”

“Hey, it's alright. Maybe your cards just don’t like me today.” He teased. Siyeon opened her mouth to tell him that wasn’t how it worked, but he put a hand over hers, sending her a disarming smile.

“Hey, it’s your birthday. Don’t worry so much about this stuff right now. I finally let you read my cards, so let’s go out to eat or something.” He offered. Siyeon resisted the urge to scold him and tell him to take what she had read more seriously, to caution himself, but instead, she only nodded and stood from her table.

“You’re taking me to the Latin place down the street, right?”

“Only the best for my best witch. See what I did there?”

“Because I’m a witch, hardy harr, let’s go nerd.”

-x-

“What do you mean there was a curse placed on him?! How long was it gonna take before you found me?!”

“We tried days after it happened! You didn’t respond!”

Hyuna paused, staring at Yeosang in surprise before she squinted.

“Wait...in Greece…?”

“Yes!”

“HE’S BEEN GONE FOR THAT-” a hand covered her mouth and she nearly bit San, eyes narrowing at him. He sent her a dirty look, wiping his hand off on his jeans before he looked at Dawn.

He was the calmer of the two of them, so they’d get answers from him.

“Hyuna can’t step foot in the Greco-Roman territories. Zeus would skin her alive. Since you all were in Greece when you called on her, she didn’t come for her own safety. And I imagine because of her not responding that time, none of you called on us again until right now?” the weasel spirit inquired.

Wooyoung, San, and Mingi shook their heads. The three of them had stuck together this time.

Somewhere at the turn of the 20th century, Seonghwa had suggested they start splitting up to try and find Hongjoong, since all seven of them looking in the same spot in such a vast and ever changing world was...impractical, at best. Downright idiotic at worst.

It made sense, but all of them knew that was the kindest way Seonghwa could tell them he couldn’t stand looking at some of them as much as he could anymore. They had begun to see the cracks once more. The barely concealed tick of his jaw when he thought no one was looking. The way he sometimes scanned their group when they were together, silently hoping whoever took it would come forward.

At the very least, he needed to know who did it. Whiro be damned.

Speaking of, he and Jongho had become exceptional trackers, which came as no surprise to the group. After all, Jongho had tracked down Hongjoong with the minimal information and tech that he had from before, so this was progressively getting easier.

He just needed to be faster. He’d found Hongjoong once, the last time, but by time he got to the city he felt Hongjoong was in, he could only stand by in wide-eyed shock as the sound of a gunshot rang out into the night.

He didn’t tell the others that part. He and Whiro would bear that one alone.

Regardless of their failures, they often grouped up on the 22nd year, to try to fruitlessly put together the pieces they needed to find him this time before his birthday passed and they inevitably lost their opportunity once more.

It was 1998 now. The 22nd year. He’s birthday was in a week and he’d die once more if they didn’t find him.

Hyuna frowned and looked at her box on her hip.

“I don’t have any spirits for searching, but I can find some. For...y’know, the next time.” She cringed. The boys did as well before hearing the door to the loft they were temporarily staying in open.

Seonghwa must have come home.

Hyuna gauged the looks on their faces and cringed.

“Right, then. I imagine this won’t be a good look for me to be here if that’s how all of you are looking at me. Dawn and I will go and I’ll get back to you as soon as I find a dog spirit suited for the job. I’m...I’m sorry.” She bowed her head down and the two of them disappeared as soon as the door opened.

Seonghwa stared at the trio for a moment before pointing behind him, his voice having lost nearly all of it’s usual sass and coyness.

“Come, I brought food.”

The three of them exchanged a look before trudging out of the room.

-x-

“Apollo, you really are impressive.”

Alistair, or rather, Apollo, wiped sweat from his brow and looked up from his spot on the floor before Hera, blood running down his temple as he tossed the head of some beast at her feet.

“Will you help me?”

“I haven’t seen you so determined to do anything since Hyacinthus’ death. And even Kaliopel is helping out-”

“I spoke with the Fates, I’ve spoken to Aunt Persephone and convinced Uncle Hades to offer up assistance in locating where the soul goes...even Nana Styx offered to pacify my father. I just need your help this once.”

Hera arched a perfectly curved brow.

“And if I say no?”

“I assure you, I can find someone else who will help me in my plight. This could be your chance to get rid of me, but if not-”

“I’m listening.”

Apollo exhaled, looking at the sun disk charm in his palm. He had retrieved it from the sea shortly after Hongjoong disappeared into the depths all those moons ago.

“I offer up half of my godhood for your assistance. All I ask is your assistance in distracting my father and for your aid in my wife and I finding him. It’s too late this time for us to intervene, but I think a soul toiling around in this cycle without the acceptance of the gods is already means enough for someone to step in. If he is out of our domain, I shall go to him. I just ask that you help me, this once. You’ll never see me again afterwards.”

Hera looked at him in genuine surprise.

“All this running, and it’s not for another consort?”

“No. It’s to break the curse no one authorized my cousin to make. Even Uncle Poisiden doesn’t seem to recall giving Scylla permission to do such a thing. It has caused conflict between him and Uncle Hades.”

Hera stared at him for a long while, looking at the offering he’d so graciously tossed at her feet. She tutted and stood, her sandaled feet being the only sound in the room as she descended the stairs to her throne. She plucked a peacock feather from her robe and pressed it to Apollo’s forehead.

“Get up off of your knees. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but your words and determination have appealed to me. I shall take part of your godhood in exchange for my assistance, but it shall be restored in full if you can complete your task. I will only help you once. If he dies again, you’re on your own.” She warned him before humming.

“I’ll even see about getting you some extra assistance.”

Apollo perked.

“Extra?”

“Don’t get too excited. It won’t be easy. We’ll see how determined you are. Go speak to Mnemosyne and her daughter Klio and refresh yourself with what you have missed. Then go.”

Apollo nodded and stood, a resolute look on his face.

“Thank you, Hera.”

“Tell anyone I was kind to you and I’ll find a way to kill you myself. Now go.”

Without another word, the Sun God turned on his heel and left, looking at the sun disk in his palm.

There was a lot of work to be done.

-x-

-You're reaping what you've sown

It's finally begun

You're reaping what you've sown

I'm sorry son, you're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown

You're reaping what you've sown-

-x-

“JOONG! JOONG HOLD ON, PLEASE!”

The biker looked towards the sky, his body growing numb as he felt Siyeon’s hands shakily cup his face. Somewhere off to the side, his motorcycle lay in pieces.

So this was it? A car collision?

Ugh.

“Joong! Joong please!”

He knows Siyeon is yelling, but all he can hear is static. Above her head, he can see the sad reflection of himself, looking down at him.

Oh, so that’s where he was.

He stared at it for a long time before blinking slowly, letting out a terse laugh.

“Don’t have such a horrible look on your face. It’s only another life, right? You looked so hopeful. Find yourself again.”

Siyeon’s brows pinched together in confusion, but the other him’s eyes grew.

‘Find yourself again.’

In the depths of the eighth sea, between the planes of this world and the next, the captain grits his teeth and nods, swimming away from his dying form.

He couldn’t give up. It was a slow time coming, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t let her win. Hell, he had even made a breakthrough with himself, something he couldn’t fathom happening before.

He was close. He was close to doing... something .

The king was also getting closer.

‘Pricilla’ had chosen to leave him alone for the first few years of his next life, it was nothing extraordinary. He was an orphan, lonely just like he had been for all sixteen of his lives before this one.

Everything changed in 2008.

“Melody, look!”

He swam to the edge, peering out.

What is this? Someone noticed him in the orphanage?

No one ever noticed him before.

“Hey there, buddy. Do you wanna come home with us? You and your siblings?”

The child frowned and looked at his feet, a small beret hiding most of his hair.

“I don’t have siblings.”

The massive man sent him a smile, tucking his hair behind his ear and as the spirit watched on, he could see he had lots of tattoos.

“You do now. If you’d like to come with us, Hongjoong.” He offered. The ten year old blinked.

“My name..isn’t…”

“George is a bit boring, don’t you think? I like Hongjoong better. It means you’re the center of the whole world, y’know.”

Hongjoong looked up at him, then the woman standing behind him who sent him a gentle smile as three other children clung to her dress, staring at him in anticipation. They looked desperate to get out of the orphanage and have a family.

A happy family.

Hongjoong smiled shyly and walked up to the grey-ish blue eyed man, gently squeezing the little harbor seal plushie he kept with him at all times. He stepped in front of the man, shifting from foot to foot.

“You won’t...you won’t throw me away, will you, mister? Not me and my friend Angel, will you?” He inquired, hugging the seal tighter. The man shook his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Hongjoong. Do you accept? Will you come with us?”

Hongjoong paused for only a second longer before he nodded, all but jumping into his arms with a wide smile.

The tall man’s arms closed around him and he smiled, picking him up before picking up one of the other children.

She stared at Hongjoong with wide eyes before smiling softly, her hair up in a ponytail.

“My name is Suzuka. I guess you’re my little brother now?”

Hongjoong nodded eagerly.

“Yes! My name is George-ah no...d-dad said my name is Hongjoong!”

The spirit of the captain watched on with tears in his eyes and disbelief.

Even he didn’t remember his name anymore, but somehow, when this man appeared, he felt a familiar sense of home and warmth when he uttered the name to the child.

The captain watched the child and his family (that word felt so new to him. Family. He hadn’t had a family in ages) grow together. He expected the worst. Expected the tattooed man and his wife to be demons. That had to be it, there was no way he’d have a happy life when the sixteen leading up to this point were so miserable.

They...never treated the four of them with anything other than the purest form of respect and love the captain can remember. He watched on, as the mother sang lullabies and told them stories before bed. As their father taught them how to play music, tattooed fingers working over a guitar, or the keys to a piano.

This...was honestly such a happy and energetic life.

He had friends and family. He smiled every day, got to perform on stages.

Hongjoong...was happy. For the first time in centuries, he was truly happy.

Years later, Pricilla returned, wrapping her limbs around him.

No, no, no, he couldn’t let it end. He couldn’t let the best version of himself die again.

So he turned and fought with all his might. He clawed and scratched and bit down on whatever he could.

No more, he was tired. He wanted to live, he just wanted to live!

“Captain! What’s gotten into you, hm? I haven’t seen such fight in your eyes in a while~”

He’d fight. Harder than ever before. He couldn’t let her win.

Hongjoong thrashes, slamming his fists against the wall. He can see himself, just beyond the water, blissfully unaware.

He’s laughing with his friends, celebrating new years as the calendar rolls over from 2019 to 2020. The captain feels his throat close slightly. This was the 22nd year. He was going to lose again, wasn’t he? He was going to lose his life again if the curse wouldn’t be broken.

Sometimes he screams at his own reflection, hoping somehow he can hear himself. The last one, the biker named Joong, heard his voice. So maybe if he could get through to this one…

He needs to know, he has to find out who he is.

“Hello!? Can you hear me?! Hello!” He screams out to the college student.

“Remember them, remember yourself!” He shouts. It's almost funny in a tragic way. He in spirit can’t even remember the names of the men that held his fate in his hands. The seven men from before. He needed them to help unlock his memories. They were the key as much as he was, he thinks.

Golden eyes watch him, impressed. A clawed hand snakes around his body and squeezes his face so hard it hurts. He glares at the woman, his lips curled up into a scowl. She tuts at him, shaking her head.

“You’ve been fighting for so long, Captain. Wouldn’t it be easier to give up? They look close to calling it quits. How could they not? Centuries without their precious leader, their precious lover-” She spits the word out like a curse, but Hongjoong only pushes past her, swimming to the opposite side of the vast space. He can see the men, six instead of seven this time.

“You want to give up on him?!” Seonghwa snarled. Mingi’s nostrils flared in anger as he stood nearly chest to chest with the ex prince.

“I didn’t say that! I’m saying you need to slow the fuck down and breathe for a bit. None of us have gotten anywhere like this. We’re tearing ourselves apart like this!” He hissed. Seonghwa grit his teeth, ice frosting over his fingers as he glared at him.

“None of this would even be happening if-” He stopped himself short, clenching his fists. Mingi glared at him.

“If what? If someone didn’t steal the staff? You keep bringing it up, you keep looking at me different than the others. You still think it’s me!”

Seonghwa lowered his gaze, but didn’t deny the accusation. Mingi clenched his fists so hard it hurt, before he raised his voice.

“I didn’t do it! How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t steal it?! Even if I did, do you think I wouldn’t have come clean by now?!”

“I never said you did steal it!” Seonghwa barked.

“You didn’t have to!”

The two of them began to argue and Jongho stood, letting out a sigh.

“Fuck this, we’re going for a walk.” He grumbled, sliding on a leather jacket. Yeosang watched him in concern before standing to retreat into the kitchen, five fox tails swaying behind him as he began cooking. Yunho sighed and laid on the floor out of the way. He was too tired for this today. Geb rumbled in silent agreement while Wooyoung shook in San’s grip.

“Cheese, c’mon boy.” Jongho beckoned and a black and tan Jindo ran up to him, nuzzling his thigh and letting him put a harness on before he walked out, slamming the door with a bit of force behind him.

Whiro rumbled in his head.

“You got the cloth for the dog, right?”

“Never leave home without it.” Jongho held out a small cloth, dangling it under Cheese’s nose. The dog was given to them by Hyuna as a search dog for Hongjoong. He was still young, but with a bit more training, Jongho was sure he’d be a good supernatural sniffing dog.

At least, he hoped he could sniff Hongjoong out before November. They were running out of time.

Seonghwa and Mingi continued arguing and the captain screamed from beyond the invisible walls, pounding on the wall desperately.

“What are you doing?! Stop it! Stop arguing!! Please!!!! Find him! Find me!” He screams, watching Seonghwa and Mingi argue. San and Wooyoung are holding each other, eyes downcast. Yeosang is busying himself in the kitchen, distracting himself from the argument. Yunho is curled up on the floor, an arm over his eyes as he keeps himself from intervening.

Hongjoong felt his heart sink, biting his lip as he watched the men. The hand comes back, fingers wrapping around his ankle as she pulls him down like she’d done time and time before.

Deeper, deeper into the eighth sea, the sea of time itself.

Deeper, deeper into the abyss.

Hongjoong reaches out at the wall, tears rolling out of his eyes and washing away with the salt water.

“Please, don’t give up on me.”

-x-

-This sorrow weighs down on my shoulders

This fear is getting harder to hide

You’ll leave me alone in this darkness

Left to hold out

Against the tide-

-x-

Jongho sighs as he bundles up. It was March, so the chill of winter still clung to the air in South Korea. Whiro stretched across his skin under his jacket, providing an extra layer of insulation that none of the locals could see.

Amazing how close the two of them had become.

Cheese tugged at the leash, barking once before pulling him forward. Jongho blinked before jolting in surprise at how persistent the dog was.

“Cheese, what the hell-”

Cheese ignored his protests and pulled the Maori man into a crowd of people. He was about to scold him when he heard a voice.

His heart stopped.

“People want it

People dream about it

It can be different to every individual

It can complete us

Or it can destroy us

And it can change the world

People call it 'treasure'”

Jongho’s lips parted in surprise as he watched a man walk forward on a stage, his hair a sandy brown color in a mullet. He held a microphone to his lips as a few other people and even some kids moved around behind him. It seemed to be a street performance of some kind.

Jongho had his eyes focused on the small brunette the whole time.

“The sound of wind blowing from the horizon

The warmth of the sun hitting the ocean waves

The vibration of sand beating like the hearts of youth

We're at the starting point of this long journey”

“Holy fucking shit, kid.” Whiro’s voice snapped him back into focus as he tugged at his hand. “Get the phone, Jongho! Close your mouth and get the phone!”

Jongho shakily plucked his phone from his pocket and held it up, eyes wide as he recorded, nearly dropping it.

On the stage, the brunette dressed in modern clothing that was clearly supposed to resemble pirate attire, walked around the stage, smiling at some of the kids and some of the other five adults on stage.

“The freezing winds may make us shiver

The heat of the sun may make us thirsty

The vibrations of the sand may swallow us

But we'll never stop.”

The group grew closer to him, and Jongho watched a woman with feline features raise her microphone next, posing prettily.

“Gold~”

A man with piercings through his eyebrow and bottom lip put an arm on her shoulder, speaking into his own microphone.

“Eternal life~”

A blonde man with a distinct accent put an arm around the brunette’s shoulder, grinning at him before he winked at the crowd, sending them a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

“Honor~”

A slightly shorter man with a deeper voice wiggled under the blonde’s arm and grabbed his mic, his accent matching his as he chimed out his own line in a deep baritone.

“Love~”

A person with pink hair with yellow and blue chalk highlights eagerly bounded up behind them, all but throwing themselves onto the brunette’s back in the center, their long legs stretching outward.

“Fame!”

The six of them laughed before the brunette in the center held his microphone up to his lips.

“It doesn't matter what you dream for,

So let me ask you

What.is.your.treasure?” he extended a hand out and for the first time in centuries, as the sound of people clapping around him echoed through his ears, tears slipped down his cheeks.

“Hong...joong…?”

“Will you join us?”

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#fie writes #against the tide #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #kpopuniversenet #atzinc #kconnet #AtT Ch.10 #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ot8 #ateez ot8 #member x member #ateez ot8 fic #polyteez #hey look i posted and its not 3am look at that pls reblog if you like it thx ily

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