#language sounds like and she won’t recognize it when it’s being spoken around her for ten years and will be less safe because of this

[quietwingsinthesky]

i don’t think even ever spoke gallifreyan in front of bill. the only person they’d do it with would be missy, who they, understandably, don’t get much time with around bill. they only spoke gallifreyan with the doctor in front of clara because they didn’t like clara and were purposefully excluding her from conversations (or at least, the start of some conversations, when the doctor responded instinctively in his own language and then corrected himself back to english (or any language that the tardis translation circuits will translate for clara.)) they don’t have that same sort of antagonistic pettiness with bill, they like bill.

so, of course, when bill gets stuck with the master & past!even on the black hole ship and they will switch back and forth into gallifreyan whenever they want to talk about something privately, it just sounds like gibberish to her. she just assumes she’s been too far from the tardis translation circuit too long, that they could be speaking any number of alien or human languages and frankly, she’s just lucky they also know english. she doesn’t know what gallifreyan sounds like, doesn’t know what it means that they’re speaking it, because future!Even wanted her to always know what they were talking about.

[tempenensis]

Jujutsu Kaisen Light Novel #2

Firstly, @bonsai62​ provides me with raw text of this - so thank you very much! This is the first eight pages of the first chapter from the second light novel. That being said, I don’t know how much I get this translation right, but enjoy anyway. Though this is cut at bad point lol

The title of the light novel is Thorny Road at Dawn. Text in bold means that it is spoken in English. 

Chapter 1: Nobara and Toge

.

“About Toge?”

August has begun.

Under the overlapping form of trees in the schoolyard, Panda asks back to Kugisaki who he has been holding on his arm and turning over 180 degree.

For the upcoming exchange event, Fushiguro is also working hard to train as participating first year.

He is in the middle of training with assumption that one-vs-one sorcerer combat can break especially during the fight.

Even though she is training, Kugisaki is now thrown towards Panda – repeatedly thrown towards him in a stage. But because it seems that her motivation is high, she’s become into it, as long as in the end she can be successful facing Todo and Mai even just a little bit.

“Yes. I understand Maki-san is worth of my respect. I also know that Panda-senpai is sorcerer with ability.”

“I also want you to say the same thing about me like Maki.”

Kugisaki answers as she stands up and brushes away leaves attached to her jersey.

“I respect you. I’m not saying bullshit about Panda-san.” (1)

“Well, if you become able to chat while being blown away, I’ll praise you.”

“My body can easily remember just blown like this.”

“Hooon. Then”

Panda looks around, confirming that Toge who went to pharmacy has not come back.

“What about Toge?”

“What kind of senpai is he?”

“Eh, you don’t know from talking to him?”

“Not that I don’t understand. Well, I know he is not a bad person, but if all his vocabularies are riceball fillings, talking with him will be limited, right?”

“We already get too used to it, right Maki?”

“Aah. Now that you say it, it naturally becomes question.”

Maki is spinning around a staff, sending a sympathetic look to Fushiguro after she lightly avoids Fushiguro’s attack and land a small hit on his head.

“It hurts…”

“You are thinking too much again with your head.”

Maki joins the conversation as she glances at groaning Fushiguro. Out of breath but clean of dust, she circles around Panda calmly.

“Among us maybe he is the best at taking care.”

“Yeah, he has a bright personality (2). If you exclude Yuuta, then he is the number one good person in our year.”

“His flaw is that he can get carried away a little.” (3)

“Is he?”

“You are the one who always get carried away when we are together, that’s why you don’t know.”

“That’s unexpected. We are not like that though. We like to join in the fun.”

Kugisaki’s body fitness is finally reaching that point where she can chat while doing her training. Even then, the second years who are lightly talking among them without difficulty remembers existence of Kugisaki of August (4) in the nearby stage.

Just a bit when Panda’s attention is at Maki as they converse, Kugisaki tries to do a feint from the side and mixes it with an upper but—

“Anyway.”

“Geh.”

Panda sways easily, then he hesitates a little before swipe Kugisaki’s feet in sobat-like (5) kick.

Kugisaki, whose pivot foot collapses, falls down rolling. Her body becomes totally irresponsive. In several weeks here, it’s a movement that she kept thought she could do.

That said she becomes irresponsive and she can’t win the match.

As he looks down at Kugisaki who makes a discouraged face, Panda opens his mouth.

“Toge is a good guy. That alone you should know.”

“….I see.”

More than that, her body has become irresponsive and her back is hurting.

The frequency of her falling down sloppily has not reduced, also buying a replacement jersey have also becomes necessary -- Kugisaki at summer time thinks with melancholy.

.---.

The story continues when it has turn to fall.

After the incident of Yasohachi has passed, there’s a brief spare time.

At that day, Kugisaki is alone in Shibuya.

Fushiguro is locking himself up and reading in his room as he is still exhausted after he overexerted himself.

Itadori has gone out to watch a maniac movie in a cinema currently doing a whole-building screening.

Maki is currently on a mission different from Yasohachi bridge, so she can’t meet her conveniently in a while. Kugisaki who completely doesn’t have a plan, aims to go shopping to make-up and clothes shops which are hard to go with boys, then buy daily necessities.

“Winter clothes set, winter shoes, inner and foundation and…”

Grasping paper bags in both hands, she lifts them up as she confirms her haul today.

She doesn’t think she bought too much, but she has walked more than she had planned. Maybe wearing the pin heel boots she bought the other day is a bit mistake.

But it is a rare chance that she gets to go out and shop alone. There’s a lot she still needs to buy.

Kugisaki is thinking to go looking for bags next as she walks in traffic jam.

When she had just arrived in Tokyo, it all seemed to be glittering scenery. After around three months has passed, she gets used to it a lot, used to hearing noisy sounds.

That being said, it is a backside of being busy and lively. It’s a thing that’s called taste of convenience.

“And that, it is really a masterpiece.”

“Doesn’t it make you angry?”

“Hey, hey. Girl, are you alone? Are you free?”

“I’m in a hurry.”

“Salmon.”

“We’re opening a new shop! Please take care of us.”

“Are you not going to eat?”

“How much are you going to eat?!”

“It’s damned boring, how about we skip work today?”

“Mama, buy me that!”

A lot of voices. It’s an intersection where a lot of life collides.

There are daily life as many as the number of people, there are worlds as many as the number of people. In the city where many wills and voices flying around, of course there will be a lot of people who is feeling gloomy – but not Kugisaki.

For her who has a firm sense of self, she understands that everyone has their own way of living in the hustle bustle of the city, it even feels like a kindness.

Now that she thinks about it, the village where she comes from was suffocating.

An exclusivity that imitate the people who had come before (6). An ecosystem long existed that doesn’t recognize individuality of a person. A closed world that gently rot — exists there in that village, Kugisaki thinks.

Compared to the crowd of the city, it is tough yet she can live with freedom.

In the city, someone says that the concern towards other people is weak. Kugisaki laughs, thinking that is wonderful. She has her own way and won’t blame anyone over it. She will stand and walk with her own foot.

However, mixing in the city crowd during the holiday, a mysterious chance can happen.

“Hm?”

Kugisaki who walks towards the direction of Shibuya Hikarie (7) in the lane across the street, makes a face of remembering something as she found him. It is the only one of her acquittances who hides lower half of mouth with closed overly long collar.

It’s Inumaki Toge.

There is also another one. A male foreign tourist with thoughtful blue eyes who can’t be someone familiar. Kugisaki becomes interested on the exchange between the foreigner and Inumaki.

“What are they talking about?”

Kugisaki changes her destination, then crosses the road when the traffic lamp changes at the right timing, and strolls towards Inumaki. When she is near them, she overhears their talk.

“I’d like to go to SHIBUYA109.” (8)

“Salmon salmon.”

“Could you tell me where I can get a taxi?”

“Salmon roe.”

“Ah… Which way should we go?”

“Seaweed.”

“Ah…I, want to go. 109 (9). Please. Ok?”

“Salmon.”

“Shake?” (10)

“….Salmon?” (11)

“….Salmon!? Why?”

“Okaka…..” (12)

“Ee…?”

For some reason, in Kugisaki’s guess ten times over, it has become a troublesome situation.

She knows that Inumaki, who is a cursed speech user, only speaks in onigiri fillings to avoid sudden outburst of curse. How come that he is asked by foreigner tourist for direction.

No, Inumaki can use Inumaki’s way of showing the way – he points his finger and gestures using his body and hands. With that, she wonders if the foreigner becomes impatient (13) as Kugisaki decides to get in between the two of them.

“What are you doing, senpai?”

“Tunamayo.”

“It can’t be ‘tunamayo’. Jeez.”

“Oh! Geisha girl!”

“Who the heck is geisha girl?!”

.

.

--- tbc (hopefully can do more)

(1) More literally, she is saying things about Panda that “doesn’t smell like fairy tale” (2) “His root is bright” is the literal translation (3) 悪ノリ (akunori) is a bit hard to be translated. It’s like, getting carried away in mischievous manner. (4) Overheated Kugisaki lol (5) Sobat : back kick in wrestling (6) literally “To follow the right” (7) A skyscraper in Shibuya (8) A department store in Shibuya (9) Spoken in broken Japanese lol. (10) Shake = salmon. He repeats what Toge said to him. In Inumaki’s language means “yes” (11) Salmon, as in engrish lol (12) Okaka = chopped katsuobushi, in Inumaki’s language means “no” (13) literally, “becomes hot”

[whump-town]

The Paths to Revenge

Warnings: same old, same old... just some stabbing

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Summary: Doyle nonsense but make it Hotch/Morgan for the fun of it.

Clyde goes first.

“No one else can know,” JJ had whispered feverishly. She’d looked nearly insane, had come unattached in her months away from them and now pulled back into the whirling black hole of the mess he created by force, cruelly unnatural. “He will kill her. If he—” she’d choked on the words, tears starting to fall down her face. She had looked up at him with a wordless inquiry, sadness and disappointment laced in the fingers she wove into his. If this wouldn’t break him, what would? If he couldn’t cry now, for his best friend, would he ever cry again?

“You can’t tell Derek.”

It’s not their first secret. Hotch severely doubts it's their last.

The grace with which Derek Morgan seems to live has always bewildered Aaron. There is something about the way that Derek breathes gentleness, cupped hands so gentle his fingers could pry apart and life would still be captured in his hands. The fluttering of delicate butterfly wings twitching in his warm palms. Torn between desires, Aaron could never understand if he wished for those palms to close around his throat. To solidify him as something wretched, so undeserving of Derek’s endless, gentle love that he might stifle it once and for all. In another breath, he wishes he could curl himself up to be something so small and so delicate that Derek might hold him like that. Like something worth preserving, worth loving.

Those hands do not wrap around his throat, applying crushing pressure until Aaron is no more. They come to frame Aaron’s face, their warmth seeping into the bone chill of his body. Thumb stroking along a worry line stretched wide by his deep frown. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” Derek whispers, he’s desperate to be them again. For Aaron to settle back down and find him, to lean into his touch. Hotch’s weary but tense with panic and restlessness. Not sleeping. Hardly eating. Derek can’t keep watching this and he’s not sure how much longer Aaron can keep it up. “I can see it in your eyes, I can always tell.”

Before their relationship, Derek had been jealous of everything that Emily and Aaron had. At the time he hadn’t known it for what it was, his unrequited love making him bitter. He had just seen the way they looked at one another, the way they worked and he’d wanted to be that person for Aaron too. Emily’s intuition had lead her to find Aaron after Foyet’s attack, all based on nothing more than a feeling. While Derek had felt boiling rage and the inability to so much as look at Aaron while he suffered alone in that hospital bed. Derek had been jealous of how easily they spoke with one another, in a language no one else really understood. How Emily could comfort Hotch — she was allowed to touch him and hug him and press a kiss to his cheek or even drag him down several steps by the ear to reprimand him like a child. While even comforting gestures Derek attempted seemed to piss Hotch off.

But now Emily’s dead and Derek wishes she was here. So that he can hear Aaron laugh again. To argue loudly and pointless about Sean Connery vs Daniel Craig — how Aaron’s never cared about either but he gets all soft around the edges listening to Emily and Derek bicker more and more as the night goes on. To be happy and close.

And, maybe, Derek just misses his best friend too.

Both of them.

It starts with Clyde. National television doesn’t pick it up, it’s the sort of affair that’s quickly suffocated to prevent mass media from getting word. It reaks with the proper stench of death, Clyde Easter bound to a chair in his London flat. His own blood in a pool at his feet, head hung in the final submission of death. Severally tortured. The strain of an entire week of torture, hunger, and exhaustion taking its toll. Died of a heart attack. Aaron doesn’t need to be told what’s happening, he couldn’t even talk about it if he wanted to. He’s only given what he’s needed, a warning that he’s next and to watch out.

Aaron just prays Derek isn’t there when it happens. He’s allowed this one small grace.

“Ice cream,” Derek says more to the room than to Aaron, the idea had dawned on him so suddenly he’d spoken it out loud. Having spent another weekend inside, moping from their bed to the couch to the kitchen back to their bed, Derek is buzzing with energy he needs to do something with. Grief and this lie Aaron holds sucks him rather dry of the will to do anything. It seems the energy he’s supposed to have has gone to Derek, makes him worse. “Ice cream,” Derek repeats with a clap of his hand. “I’m going to get ice cream and you don’t have to come with me but I’d really like you to.”

Aaron looks up, hair a mess on the top of his head and shoulders sinking impossibly low in their joints as exhaustion sweeps over him. He’s incapable of so much as looking at Derek, having to see how hopeful and how loving he’s being looked at. All he’s ever wanted was to be loved and now he’s got it and he can’t face the vulnerability that cracks through his sternum every time Derek touches him. How every demonstration of love is such debilitating proof of how broken he is. How hopeless.

“I’ll bring you back a tub of Rocky Road.” Derek slides his jacket on, he’s not annoyed. No matter how convinced Hotch is, Derek isn’t even bothered. He knew he was going to get ice cream alone and, though he’d rather not do it alone, that’s okay.

Once his feet are shoved into his sneakers he comes back around the side of the couch and kisses the top of Hotch’s head, messing further with his hair. “I love you.”

Derek couldn’t remember what the last thing he said to Emily was. It kept him up at night trying to piece together every last second he had before she was taken from him before the nurses pulled them in opposite directions. Did she know he loved her? How glad he was that she was someone that not only he could trust but that Aaron had too? It’s the sort of thing that weighs down heavily on him. Now he can’t leave anyone without saying it.

Aaron has the opposite problem. Pulls away so that in case this happens again he won’t get hurt.

“I love you too,” he answers but hoarsely and to the sound of Derek walking away.

Jack is with Jessica. She takes Hotch’s emotional distance with grace, allows him this little period of reprieve while he tries to get back into the swing of things. He’s lost both of his best friends in a year’s span of time and is still really struggling to understand how to integrate himself fully into his relationship with Derek.

Life, it seems, has been throwing hard balls and it’s not getting any easier.

Derek kicks his shoes off at the door, more Aaron’s habit than his but he’s learning to uphold it. “I got rainbow sprinkles,” he calls out. “I know you have a reputation to uphold but I also know you love them—” Derek tosses the bags up onto the counter, smirking even in his slight confusion. He’d figured Aaron would have come looking for him once the front door opened. He’s vigilant about that sort of stuff. Even if he does know logically it’s just Derek. “Hey—” he’s greeted by the dark living room. It’s undeniably odd. “Where’d you—” Derek smirks when he sees Aaron’s back, even bowed and distressed it’s still undeniably him. “Aaron?”

A gun cocks at his head and Derek freezes, eyes never leaving Aaron’s. “Sit down.” Derek opens his mouth, going to argue or fight but Aaron looks away. Gaze sinking to the floor as his head rolls down, chin on his chest. “Sit down!” Derek listens, not out of fear of the gun just in his line of sight but because he can’t think past the sight of blood smeared across the side of Aaron’s face. The way his right eye is red with blood, his temple drooling angrily down his cheek. “I have to admit,” the dark of the room caves to what little light is in the house, and Derek tenses. Recognizes him immediately.

“You fucker—”

The gun is moved, away from his head and to Aaron’s bowed temple. “Sit. Down.”

Derek hadn’t even realized it, he’d just stood like he could do something in the face of a gun. Now he certainly can’t, being the cause of his own life’s end is one thing but to hurt Aaron is another. He sits back down, eases his way back to a sitting position with his hands on the table. He won’t do anything fast.

“You know what I want.” Ian Doyle stands in their house, smirking at the wet sound of Aaron’s blood dripping on the floor. “Tell me where she is.”

Derek opens his mouth to answer, a snippy — “she’s dead” — but Aaron looks up at him. The look they share is laced with mixed truths and the bold lie woven between the three men. His bloody eye, pupil blown wide staring back at Derek with all the answers he needs. Emily had died for them. She’d chased down her past and fought it all alone for them. Derek wondered if that meant she didn’t trust them, didn’t think they were capable of undertaking this threat with them. Looking at Aaron, watching his chest rise and fall in choking breathes, Derek wishes he couldn’t understand the solemn warrior trope. That he didn’t know the truth.

“She’s dead,” Derek mumbles but he’s not so sure about that anymore.

Ian smirks, unfooled. “See,” he clicks his tongue, “that’s what your friend here keeps telling me.” Ian shakes his head, taking the muzzle of the gun and grazing it across Hotch’s head. Trailing it through his hair. “I remain unconvinced.”

Aaron looks hopelessly up at Derek, a tear sliding down through the blood on his cheek. Caught on his eyelash, trailing over the duct tape on his mouth.

The knife comes out of nowhere. Slammed down into Aaron’s thigh with no warning. The duct tape obstructs his breathing, leaves Aaron gasping, struggling to breathe. He groans, sucking in air through his nose but it’s not enough. Aaron’s eyelids flutter, his head tilted back as he trembles. Face drained of color, his breathing getting worse. More strained, shallow.

Derek jerks his head away, clenching his teeth when Doyle jerks the knife back out of the wound. Aaron makes an awful sound, pained and unconscious.

“Tell me!” Doyle slams his fist down on the table. Completely ignores Aaron’s noises, his pained cries as he wheezes around the ducktape. “Tell me or I’ll kill him.”

Derek shakes his head, “no, no—”

“It’s not that hard,” Doyle sneers, patience is gone. “Her for him, choose!”

Derek shakes his head again, his own tear falling down. “I don’t know,” he whispers. Derek starts to tremble, rage replacing hopelessness. Angered to the point of tears. “She’s dead! We buried her!”

Doyle shouts, “fine! You want to keep playing games?” Doyle raises the knife up between them, letting the blade punctuate the question. “You will always lose Agent Morgan. Always—”

“No!”

Aaron’s eyes fly back open, a scream muffled by the duct tape. “I’ll find her,” Doyle promises. “It doesn’t matter what you do.” Aaron’s head falls down to chest, eyes falling shut. “And when I find her, there’s nothing that you’ll be able to do to stop me.” Doyle reaches down, fingers slick with Aaron’s blood, and pulls the knife from Aaron’s chest. “Last chance,” Doyle whispers with a grin. He steps back, “last game, last question: me or Agent Hotchner?”

Derek doesn’t wait for Doyle to get out of sight, he moves immediately to the other side of the room. He steps behind the chair Hotch is tied to, seeing for the first time the ropes wrapped around his arms. The way he’s constrained to the chair, unable to move. “Aaron,” Derek lifts his head up, his fingers under Aaron’s chin. His skin is clammy, cold against Derek’s palm. “Aaron, hey! Look at me, keep your eyes open. Aaron?” His head is heavy, limp in Derek’s hold. “Aaron, please. Stay with me.”

He stops breathing in the ambulance, airway preserved by the tracheal tube bulged in his throat. His heart beats too quickly, pounding away in his ribcage. Derek feels like just yesterday he was living this exact horror movie, Emily’s cold hand unresponsive in his. Dark hair a crown on poignant contrast. Life held in the balance, raw existence. Again, Derek feels the pitter of a heartbeat against his fingertips. Again his breath is held as nurses pull him one way and his heart is torn from his chest.

What will JJ have to say this time?

Will the same tears shine in her eyes? The same trepidation? Their lie is bleeding out on a stretcher being pushed down a luminescent hallway. As pale as the death they created. Perhaps this is the price one pays when meddling with things beyond control. Things that are not to be messed with. The evil Derek’s mother forbade him from playing with. Worse than the handmade ouija board under his bed, death’s creator laying on his chest.

Lying dead in his arms.

Derek Morgan sits for six hours, entirely alone in the waiting room. Each breath could be the last he shares with Aaron and he won’t know for several more to come. They labor on, Aaron’s controlled by machines and Derek’s by the flood of emotions weighing him down. He can only control himself for so long, holding down the bitter failures of the last few days. His anger is intense, uncontrollable.

“You lied.” It’s the middle of the night, Garcia’s hair still pulled back in pigtails and JJ’s in a clip at the back of her head. The waiting room isn’t full of special agents, dressed to the nines ready for a fight. Derek sees only their family, leggings, and sweatpants, and he can’t take it.

“You lied,” Derek repeats to the floor. “She’s not dead and now Aaron—” his voice catches. Derek rubs his hands down his eyes, looks up at them unashamed of the tears falling down his face. Her fault. JJ and her stupid lie. “I’ll never forgive you. If he dies… If he dies because of this stupid shit, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Derek—”

“Not now.”

Sixty-two hours. Over two days of sitting and measuring machine regulated breathes. Three nights of sleeping in a chair, falling asleep to the sounds of machines and thin blankets pulled to his chin. Aaron twitches and each time Derek thinks he’s going to wake up but his pleas are meant with more silence.

It’s sitting. Waiting. Watching. The waiting room has become his third home, where he’s kicked to when Aaron’s getting another test or scan. He’s left with only the anxieties of the unknown. He spends hours just drumming his knee, head in his hands. That’s a long time to sit and think about all things you’ve said in the past.

They hunt him down, attempting to softly fill in the holes with medical jargon. Stammering and averting his gaze to the tiled floor under his feet. “Uhm,” he rubs at his eyes. “I--I don’t want to know.” He doesn’t care that the doctor looks stunned, entirely caught off guard. “Someone else,” he mumbles, head still ducked as he steps into the room. Leaving the doctor in the hall. “Tell someone else when they arrive.” He just can’t do it. He can’t hear all that medical bullshit and still have this blind hope that everything will turn out.

He grabs a chair from the ones lining the wall across from Hotch’s bed, pulling it right up to Hotch’s side and throwing himself into it unceremoniously. Derek looks everywhere but Hotch. He got a glance in and he knows what there is to see. Tape twisting Hotch’s lips around the tube down his throat. All pale skin, still hands, and machines. Derek huffs, shaking his head, and picks at his cuticles. They’ve all been through so much but Hotch…

They never really get a break, do they?

He wishes he could go back to when it was just the three of them. Hotch, Gideon, and himself against the world. When it was Hotch’s desk he kicked his feet up on, watching him eat his lunch or snack in a certain order. Thirty years old and still saving his dessert for after his sandwich and carrots. The only person Derek’s ever met that cared or noticed the apparent lack of yellow and green M&Ms compared to the other colors. Also, the only person Derek knows who sits and sorts them out. Putting them in a neat line and two of each color-- one M&M for each side of his mouth.

Derek’s eyes sting and he rubs them roughly, shaking his head and forcing himself to pull it together. He’s not going to cry over Hotch sharing those odd M&Ms with him. Not going to think about how close they used to be, how things have changed for the better and the worse. He’s not going to die, so there’s no need to think like that.

They’ll be fine.

Everything is fine.

Garcia finds Ian Doyle, he never left Virginia.

Emily’s already on a plane coming over.

Killing Clyde Easter was revenge. It had been personal. For creating Lauren Reynolds and then for taking her away. Hurting Aaron was just convenience. Doyle knew Clyde’s death would sting but it would be no reason to come home, no reason to bring Emily home. There would be nothing she could do about the affair by the time she got word of his death. Hurting Aaron, though. Hurting one of the people Emily had supposedly died to protect, would work like a charm. It would draw her out.

Ian Doyle hadn’t planned for Derek Morgan. Not fully. He knew Derek would arrive when he needed him to, with enough time to keep Agent Hotchner sparingly alive. To make sure Doyle made it clear he knew Emily Prentiss is alive, to stir the team. Pin them against one another. Even against their downed leader. Take out the strongest first -- and that’s where Doyle hadn’t really known them. Aaron is fearless, he’s stupidly brave, but he’s not stupid. He won’t be blinded by his feelings. What Doyle did was stifle their logic, he disabled the one person who would have allowed Doyle to escape. What Doyle did was piss off five agents tired of losing the people they love.

Aaron gets worse on his own.

Garcia stays home, someone needs to be there in case Hotch wakes up. It’s not hard to figure out why they’d want to leave her behind. She’s stronger at home, has what she needs. And Derek’s terrified something will happen.

Ian Doyle finds Declan, it’s all the same story. Confused children and manipulative adults. There are no bittersweet reunions -- not between biological father and son and not between Emily and the others. Doyle and Emily have set fire to the families they had. Held a lighter over the portrait and watched the color melt to grey and then to black. Piercing a hole in the heart.

The airstrip lights up in heavy gunfire.

Derek doesn’t fire a shot. He wishes he had, for his own selfish fire starving out. He doesn’t shoot for Aaron. This isn’t what he’d want. This mess that they’ve all made. Aaron’s morals are always getting in the way of things but as Derek lowers his gun he’s flooded with relief. His anger abating, exhaustion seeping in. Ian Doyle dies on the tarmac. Spread out on his back and choking on blood. It takes four minutes.

It doesn’t feel long enough.

Not after everything he’s taken.

“Derek?”

He can hear it in her voice.

“I think-- Oh God, I think something is wrong.”

Emily had died. Derek had watched the monitor run-flat.

She’s a ghost and Aaron’s dying. This time no matador’s cape will dance, shaking free the threat with deadly precision. No magician to pull up the curtain, to show them the trap door.

“How is he?” Emily asks

“Alive,” JJ mumbles. “They’re not sure for how long--” she shrugs and Reid makes a choked sound, blushing and wiping his face clean of the tears still dry on his cheek. JJ just glances at him. “He’s holding on, Morgan’s with him.” The dismissiveness in her tone is not a reflection of how she feels, truly. It’s just a protective measure to ensure she doesn’t break. If she stops for even a moment she will cry and she’s still trying to convince herself that this is going to work out.

Aaron can’t die now. He’s laced hesitation into Derek’s logic. Changed too many things about him -- taught him the magic of rainbow sprinkles and how to cut hair with nothing but kitchen scissors and the bathroom mirror. Derek’s learned the magic of loving his best friend. Hating the person he shares a bed with. Being unable to sleep without the heat of Aaron’s body close by, no more than a breath away.

With those gentle hands, meant to capture thrashing wild things, Derek Morgan cups Aaron’s face. “I can see what you’re thinking,” he whispers. The intubation machines are gone, one step forward. Aaron lays flat on his back, an oxygen mask over his face. Across his bare chest are machine leads, pads left stuck to his chest. His heart is giving out. “Don’t--” Derek shakes his head, clearing his throat. He uses the back of his hand to push away a tear. “Don’t leave me, Aaron. Not now.”

Every muscle in Aaron’s body is stiff with pain untouchable by the maxed-out morphine. Cold sweat streaks across his body, makes him shiver, and clench his teeth down when the small movements spike worse pain. The thin sheet across his hips does nothing. It feels colder than the rest of the room, not even the reassuring pressure of it seems to help. His muscles ache from the tension. From the rounds he’s lost against the crash cart.

If he could force his jaw open, unclench it from the pain, he’d beg Derek for a blanket. Something warm or comforting. For relief. Anything.

He wakes to movement. It takes him too long to realize it’s his body being moved. “Easy.” Aaron looks up, confused by the sight of Emily and Derek standing side-by-side. “Here--” They work together, moving his body slowly. They try not to hurt him but he feels lit up inside. A pyre in his chest set ablaze with a match. Agonizing. He closes his eyes tight, detached enough to lose focus of where their hands are on his body.

“Aaron?”

When he can open his eyes again, he’s looking up at the ceiling.

“Hey, there sleeping beauty.”

There are pillows under one of his sides, another tucked under his thigh.

“Don’t--” He’s not even aware he’s doing it, not until he’s looking at the hand Emily’s just smacked. “Are you an actual child? Stop touching everything.” She stands and he watches in amazement as she bends over him and fixes the oxygen canal under his nose. Her hand grazes his cheek and she’s real. She’s here. When she notices his confusion she smirks, “seeing a ghost, Hotch?”

“Emily.” Oh, Derek. Hotch looks over at him, a dopey smirk he’s not even aware of spreading across his face. When Derek sees it, he loses his tension. The sting of his reprimand, who still thinks it’s too soon for Emily’s dead jokes, is gone. “How do you feel?” he asks even though he’s not sure Hotch has managed to find his words. His answer is that smile, growing wider as Derek kisses his cheek.

Aaron closes his eyes the second he sees Derek freeing his hands, sighing contently before Derek can even lean over and cup his face in his hands. They’re warm from the coffee he went to get, familiar in all the safest ways. “I missed you,” Derek whispers. Derek kisses him again, on his smiling lips. Unbothered that Aaron’s too out of his mind to work his mouth, just hums back, turns further into Derek’s touch.

Recovery will not be fun. Aaron got his wish. His best friend and his boyfriend back and it hardly cost him a thing. They'll both smother him, taking turns bossing him around.

He's never been so relieved to hear them arguing this early in the morning.

[peculiarpatches]

           ❤  𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸𝐷 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑁, 𝐿𝑂𝑉𝐸 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐴𝐿𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑆 ❤  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bella swan x fem! reader. 

lowercase intended.

this story takes place during new moon. also, i love edward cullen as much as i love bella swan but in this story, edward cullen has no rights. 

me and my homies all fucking HATE new moon edward cullen. 

anyways, if you like this, please give it a 'like' and tell me if you like it because it'll mean the world to me :( 

thank you and enjoy!! WARNINGS:  smut. there's not a lot of it, it's mainly just oral and somewhat dirty talk. again, not a whole lot of anything, really. it's mainly fluff with somewhat smut. idk??? either way. i hope yall like it.

(y/n) stirred in her sleep, the floor  below her squeaking loudly due to her  continuous movements. she couldn't stop squirming around, couldn't get comfortable in the slightest, no matter how much she tried to do so.  (y/n) tried her best but didn't - couldn't - succeed. she was constantly stirring as she tried to rest.. no matter what position she tried, no matter how many melatonin gummies she had previously taken before as well, nothing seemed to work. both her thoughts and heart were racing, she knew they wouldn't stop or slow down any time soon, either.    they kept going, running and running, it was as if her thoughts were a horse, racing to the finishing line but the finishing line was so far away, so out of reach, she couldn't seem to catch up to it. as for her heart, it was hammering away against her chest, rapidly.    though, she knew it was physically impossible, (y/n) swore her best friend - bella swan - could hear (y/n)'s heartbeat drumming and jack hammering against her chest. but all was silent in the room, other than the faint snores drifting away from bella's lips and (y/n)'s heavy breathing. the thoughts that clouded her mind were nothing but pure filth, such sinful things that'd make even the devil red in the face and cause him to go speechless.   all these thoughts were about bella, too. (y/n) knew it was wrong to think such thoughts about your best friend, especially one who just went through a break up not too long ago but she couldn't help herself.   truth be told, she always did have an attraction to her best friend, ever since the two were children, actually, (y/n) always had a crush on bella.   

of course, she didn't know what those feelings were as a kid, she just thought bella was pretty the way flowers were and the way the sky was when it'd drastically change colors, have it be a sunset or a sunrise, it didn't matter because they were a beautiful sight to her, as was bella.   The marriage of warm honey hues and deep caramels spun  in bella's eyes,  her brown hair was long and wavy,  it   flowed  so smoothly down over her shoulders and across her back.  

as of the moment, however, her hair was a bird's nest and in every other angle, strands of hair poked out from her sleeping, restless face. it actually made (y/n) giggle faintly as she bent forward, sneaking a peek at her best friend. 

she had done this every other time within the night, sneaking a glance, here and there, just to watch how beautiful she slept - how peaceful she looked.  but  (y/n) also was quick to lay back down against the sleeping bag she was  oh so, uncomfortably sleeping in. the moment bella rolled over and shifted in her sleep, she'd be quick to shut her eyes and play pretend, afraid of bella waking up and seeing her, gawking at her, googly eyes and a lovestruck expression across her face.  she didn't want bella to think she was a total creep, for gazing  at her like that, especially as the girl was elsewhere within her own state of mind, more than likely, dreaming of her ex boyfriend, edward, too.  the reason they were having this sleepover, anyways, was because charlie - bella's dad - suggested it. said that bella could use a friend, especially with edward getting up and walking out on her for whatever, given reason that may be, nobody expect bella knew. and even then, bella didn't say anything about it. she kept quiet. but even then, no words needed to be spoken, bella's expressions and body language were more than enough of a dead giveaway; she was still so hung up about the cullen boy. 

at least, this is what (y/n) thought. everyone in forks thought that. expect, as she's thinking about bella, lost in her own thoughts, she hears a faint whimper, coming above her. eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip tugged between her teeth, (y/n) sits up and at first, she hesitates, wondering if she should wake bella up herself or go and get charlie. charlie warned her that bella was having nightmares, waking up in the middle of the night, she'd yell on the top of her lungs and cry until there were no tears left.  expect, before she could make that decision, she hears the whimpers growing louder, thus giving her the explanation and the answer to the question she had yet asked. bella wasn't having a night terror, no, instead she was touching herself. and she was touching herself to (y/n).  "a-ah.... oh... (y/n)..." bella's voice is hoarse, groggy, it's as if she had just woken up.   (y/n) felt foolish  for not having picked up on the sudden noises before but there they were - the faint buzzing and the soft, slick sound of bella pleasuring herself with said toy.  once she recognized the sound, she couldn't unhear it. (y/n)  now, having known what it exactly was that she was doing, she could hear it a little too well.  it sent her own core throbbing, begging to be touched.  the thin layer of cloth she wore around her thighs, a poor excuse of a pair of panties if you ask her, began to leak with (y/n)'s arousal.  but there, she lay, as stiff as a board, unable to move.  until she heard bella's voice. then and only then, did she feel her heart begin to pick back up with speed  and the butterflies that she desperately tried to hide began to flutter and fly deep within her stomach, sending an endless amount of feelings to flood her.  "(y/n)? i know you're awake... i know you can hear me. i can practically read your thoughts, too. read you like a book. i've known you since, well... forever." bella giggled but her voice cracked, giving away at the last sentence she spoke, it was as if she was on the verge - the edge  - of coming undone. and completely oblivious to the fact, bella was, indeed, on the edge of an orgasm. and she needed  (y/n). now, more than ever, she needed her best friend.  "i know you want me, (y/n). i won't lie, either, i want you too... and i also know you want my pretty pussy as much as i want yours."   (y/n)'s breath hitches in her throat and she solemnly  swears her heart stops beating.  fully sitting up, her (e/c)  eyes meet with bella's hazel ones. "are you sure? you aren't just saying this because-" bella shook her head, quick to reply before (y/n) could even mention her ex boyfriend's name. bella didn't want to hear about him. not now, not ever again. he broke her heart but here (y/n) was, always there to pick bella up when she fell. bella, herself, felt like an idiot for not realizing her feelings sooner.  yes, she loved edward, and a little piece of her always probably would love him.  and yes, she'll also think about the endless possibilities  that could have happened in the future with edward but.... 

as she looked at her best friend, bella realizes that she'd rather remain as a mortal and die, loving this girl than love an immortal who left, even after claiming he loved her and wanted to spend forever with her.  

she'd rather be with (y/n) the girl who never gave up on her, even in the most difficult times.   this was her forever. and as dull and depressing as a human may be, especially one so scared of dying, bella wasn't afraid anymore. being with (y/n) made her feel alive. 

and again, she'd die, happily, as long as it meant (y/n) was by her side throughout it all.  

both bella and (y/n) knew, too, nothing would ever tear them apart. no matter what, they'd always be together.

 friendship or relationship, at the end of the day, it'll always be them.  "yes. i'm sure. i'm positive. i want you now more than ever. i.... well, i've been thinking about it for awhile. often, i should say.... you're the only friend  - only person - who has remained by my side, not just with this breakup but even when i lived thousands and thousands of miles away. you sent me letters and packages.... hell,  when i told you i finally got a laptop. you were the first person in my inbox.  you sent me multiple emails, all of which mainly contained of nothing expect, 'i miss you's.' 

you were always there for me. and even now, even when i had pushed you away for a boy who could care less about me, you were there. i love you, (y/n). and i am so sorry it took me so long before to realize."  by the time, bella was done talking, (y/n) scrambled up on her feet (she nearly fell in the progress, too) and pushed bella down against the bed, instantly crashing her lips on the other girl's. smiling in the kiss, bella happily kisses back, murmuring a soft, "i love you," against (y/n)'s lips. "and i love you." (y/n) replied. the kiss was short, simple and sweet. it would have lasted longer and  bella was upset when (y/n) had pulled away  but (y/n) giggles softly and explains why she ended the kiss so soon, so quickly.  "what did you say earlier, by the way? you know.... about me, wanting that pretty pussy of yours? is that offer still on the table, bell?" (y/n) whispered, seduction easing its way into the words she spoke. bella shuddered, feeling her nipples harden and her cunt throb as (y/n) talked.    "y-yes." bella stammered, blushing deeply as she chewed on her bottom lip. "will you? please? 'm still so wet." bella continued, the blush on her cheeks only growing a deeper and darker red as she confessed this.  

 in one swift movement, bella holds the toy up, proving her statement. the toy was small, no bigger than her and (y/n)'s fingers combined.  the only light in the room, other than the faint glimmer and glow of the lights hung up above bella's bed was the pale light of the moon, peaking out from the curtains. even with little to no light, (y/n) could tell the toy was soaked with bella's wetness.  "lay on your back. spread your legs for me, want to see your full pussy on display for me. won't you do that for me, bells? be my good girl and show me your cute cunt?" 

 like earlier, bella shuddered at (y/n)'s words and throwing the comforter off of her, she gets cozy and lays on the mattress, her breathing heavy as she watched (y/n) spread her legs apart and before she can even register what's happening, she feels the soft but wet tip of (y/n)'s tongue in between her folds.  "oh." bella mewled, throwing her head back against the pillows behind her head.  edward never touched her, other than a few awkward kisses, here and there. he  always said he was too scared he'd hurt her. how ironic, being the fact he still managed to hurt her by leaving her. not so much in the bedroom because they never got around to it. but he was gone now and (y/n) was here,  showing and proving that she was better than that heartless, and undead son of a bitch.  "(y/n) please..." bella whimpered, tugging on her lower lip harder as she felt (y/n)'s tongue go deeper inside. a moan leaves her lips before she could say anything else.     (y/n), taking her clit  in her mouth, bella squeals with delight and surprise at the sudden action.  "oh, fuck, yes~!"  bella moans, throwing her head back, her hand finds its way into (y/n)'s hair, curling her fingers around the stray few pieces that slip between her fingertips.  "eat me out, baby, just like that.  you like that, hm? like the taste of your best friend's cunt on your tongue?  fucking devour it, baby, eat me out as if i'm your last meal. oh, (y/n)!!" bella's voice grew louder, more needy, by the second. (y/n) as quick as ever, flicks her tongue again and again, over and over,  against bella's clit, her lips hollow over her womanhood and she licks all around, taking in bella's juice like a cum slut she was.  

bella seemed to enjoy it, with the way she was withering and shaking above her. there's that, of course,  and her, growing wetter the more (y/n)'s tongue and lips hover over her cunt. so,  there was the answer to the question she had yet asked. being the ultimate tease, however, (y/n) pulls back and replaces her tongue with the toy that bella used earlier, slipping it in easily as the wetness of herself continues to leak out.  "oh, fuck!" bella exclaims, she's quick to cover her mouth with the palm of her hand,  however, reminding herself that her father was downstairs, more than likely, passed out on the couch with a repeat of last year's game on the screen. if he had heard her yelling, (thanks for that, edward) he'd be quick to run up the stairwell, careful on his feet so he wouldn't trip and  he'd burst through the door, seeing if his daughter was okay and if she needed him like all the other times he had heard her, screaming and hollering.  of course, if that were the case; he'd see bella, being eaten out by her best friend, tears of pleasure and satisfaction rolling down her cheeks, bottom lip clamped between her teeth, all while (y/n)'s face was full of her pussy, her chin glistening with her juices.  as her one hand covered her mouth, her other had left (y/n)'s hair and was digging into the comforter, her nails digging into the flower printed fabric. 

"that's it, baby, yes, yes, oh, FUCK.  fuck me like that, please, don't stop, oh please, don't stop."  bella's words ran together as she was getting closer and closer to an orgasm. the slur in her speech made it seem as if she were drunk, more than anything. "fuck me like a whore, (y/n), please... want you. need you so bad. 'wan be a good girl for you and cum just for you, babygirl, please."  more than happy to do so, (y/n) does exactly that.  removing the toy, (y/n) replaces the opening of bella's cunt with her fingers, pumping her fingers back and forth; in and out. she does this while shoving her face back in between bella's thighs.   meanwhile, bella bucks her hips into her best friend's mouth, her lips falling down into a little 'o' shape as  the familiar heat pools in the bottom of her stomach and continues to build. her teeth clench together as her feet arch up and her toes curl downward. "oh god.... oh, (y/n).. i'm coming!"  bella's words, like earlier, have not changed because the palm of her hand was still clamped over her mouth, therefore the words that left her lips were muffled.    as the girl rides out her high, the other gal remained in the same position, licking and swallowing all the cum that bella just let loose, happily slurping it up.  the girl below was obviously messy.    even in the dim lighting of the room, bella could see her best friend's face was covered with her own  arousement, it  was dripping  from her lips and her own wetness - she noticed - was sticking to her underwear and was beginning to leak, the drip sticking to her thighs. had she really came, untouched? 

the thought made bella hornier, if that were even possible.   "was that okay?" (y/n) was the first one to speak up and her voice came out in a whisper. it took bella a moment or two to process the words and piece them together. giggling, bella is quick to sit up and crawl over, pinning (y/n) to the bed and kissing her. 

"baby, that was wonderful... you made me feel so fucking good so great. i love you so much." (y/n), hearing bella confess this, squeals with happiness as she kisses her best friend - girlfriend? - back, smiling widely into the kiss as they lay there, lovingly interlocking lips with one another. "but..." bella pulls away, her cheeks flushing as she continues with her sentence, "how about me? can i have a taste of you?" goosebumps prickle her skin  at the question and eagerly, (y/n) nods and grips onto bella's arm, her fingernails digging into her skin as she practically begs for it. 

she needed this so bad. 

wanted bella so bad since all those summer's ago.  "please, bella..."  giggling and smiling - oh, how (y/n) loved seeing her smile, especially knowing she was the reason behind it -  bella nods as she trails down, opening (y/n)'s legs and doing the exact same thing that (y/n) just did. "oh... bella..."  *~* 

throughout the night, bella and (y/n) took turns, pleasing and pleasuring the other. soft, gentle whispers of 'i love you's' left their lips at any given chance, at any free moment they had.  by the end of the night, bella forgot all about edward cullen, all she could think about was (y/n). 

 as for (y/n) she was - though, she wouldn't dare say this to her best friend -

(well, girlfriend) 

(bella asked if it was okay if they put that label on themselves and (y/n) laughed and pulled her into a passionate yet hungry kiss, "i've been waiting forever for you to ask me... yes, bella, i'd love to be your girlfriend.") 

but she was glad edward was out of the picture, too. 

(the two girls came out to charlie the next morning and completely unfazed, he nods and presses a steaming cup of coffee to his lips, sipping on it slowly before he spoke,  “at least you know you have my approval.” 

charlie, too, was more than happy to see edward gone and out of the picture. he liked (y/n) a lot better, anyways.) 

[forzalando]

Lessons | George Weasley | Pt. 2

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Royalty!AU Word Count: 3.2k (approximately, OOPS) Warnings: mentions of sibling d*ath, a very rude knight grabbing the reader, mentions of bruising on reader, reader sl*pping aforementioned knight, aggressive language and behavior

A/N: hello friends! here is part 2 to this George Royalty!AU! I actually quite like this two-parter. the easy banter between George and the Reader is adorable, if I do say so myself! I hope you all enjoy :) thank you for your continued support and love!

Summary: After the tragic loss of his twin brother, George Weasley finds himself using his talents to secure a job as the new Potions Master and Healer for the Royal Family. Unbeknownst to you, he takes a particular liking to you knowing that you have more in common than you realize. When a chance encounter results in the promise of more time together, both George and Y/N deal with intense nerves and several revelations. 

here is part one in case you missed it! 

***

“Luna, I think I might be sick,” you groaned, reaching for your stomach full of fluttery nonsense.

You heard her lilting giggle from across your bedroom as she pressed the wrinkles from your dress. Amidst the commotion of the morning, you took a moment to silently hope that George liked the color purple.

“You’re not sick, Y/N, you’re nervous. If you don’t calm yourself down I don’t think you’ll be able to walk to his workshop!”

“Nervous? This can’t be nerves, I’ve been nervous loads of times and it’s never been like this.”

“Well, when’s the last time you were nervous to spend time with a boy? Or a man?”

“I…never? I don’t think I’ve ever been nervous because of someone.”

Luna smiled cheekily as she handed you your dress, a look you knew far too well.

“Not even Professor Lupin?” She asked while laughing at the stunned look on your face.

“Oh god, Luna, I thought we would never mention that again. He was my tutor, it was a schoolgirl crush, end of story.”

“Alright, alright, no more mentioning Professor Lupin!”

She helped you slip on your dress and stood back while you admired yourself in your mirror. Something was missing, and Luna knew exactly what it was as she handed you the dainty, single pearl necklace your brother Aiden had gifted you for your most recent birthday.

“There. Now you look perfect. Plus, that beautiful necklace will have Mr. Weasley’s eyes wandering to your decolletage every time you lean forward.”

“LUNA!” you scolded, though you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped with your shout.

A moment passed before you turned around and grasped Luna’s hand in your own. She could sense that your demeanor had shifted a bit, and a serious tone replaced the previous lighthearted one in your room.

“Luna, how…how did you feel when you first met Neville? Did you feel like this? Am I being crazy?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re being crazy at all. It wasn’t an instant connection, if that’s what you mean, but the moment I realized what we had was special, I felt that I might take flight with the way my stomach and heart fluttered at the sight of him.”

You noticed her hand leave your grasp to trace the wedding ring on her left hand; she and Neville had been married last spring and although you had been to many royal weddings, theirs outshone them all.

“Neville knows George quite well, you know. He sees him all the time while working in the garden, says he’s one of the nicest people he’s ever met. Quite funny, too.”

Smiling fondly, you turned back to your mirror and smoothed your dress one last time.

“I’d better be going,” you said softly, the beat of your heart growing faster every second.

“I’ll be right here when you get back, waiting for you to tell me everything,” Luna said smiling. She pushed you softly towards your chamber door and with a newfound determination, you walked briskly towards the East Wing, careful to keep an eye out for anymore trip wire.

You had almost reached your destination when you felt someone grasp your arm from behind.

“Excuse me – ” you began to say, but you were cut off when the stranger turned you around.

“Sir Cormac, I hope you have a very good reason for putting your hands on me.”

His grip tightened as he pulled you further into the corridor, grumbling under his breath about something you couldn’t make out.

“Sir Cormac,” you shouted. “I’ll ask you again what you think you’re doing putting your hands on me.”

“I know it’s you leaving that wire around for me to trip on. I saw you laughing yesterday and I see the way you look at me with disgust and disdain. I deserve to be treated with respect for serving your family as diligently as I do.”

You shoved his hand off of you and promptly smacked him across his cheek.

“How dare you speak to me that way? I’m not the one making a fool out of you, but I wish that I were. You are vile, and I would rather face Lord Riddle’s army on my own than rely on you for whatever protection you may think you provide me and my family. I suggest you walk away and resign from your position, because you won’t like the outcome if I tell my Father what transpired here today.”

“Why you little – ” he started to say as he lunged forward, but a shout from down the hall interrupted him.

“Sir Cormac! I believe it would be in your best interest to step away from the Princess, immediately.”

You smiled as you recognized the voice and then internally scolded yourself. You were never one to want or need a savior, but the sound of George Weasley coming to your aid didn’t seem quite so bad at all.

“This is none of your business, Weasley,” Cormac sneered as he kept his gaze on you.

“I do believe it is, Sir. The bruise forming on the Princess’s arm is my concern as a Healer, and seeing as there’s no one else around, I’m quite certain it’s from you.”

George stepped forward when Cormac made no indication of leaving, but you put a hand on his chest to hold him back.

“I’ve got it George, but thank you.”

You turned your attention back to Cormac, bile rising in your throat just having to look at his face.

“I won’t repeat myself, Sir Cormac, and due to your hesitation, my offer has changed. Mr. Weasley will be escorting me to my Father’s chambers and he can decide your punishment.”

George moved closer to you and told himself it was for your protection, but the nagging voice in the back of his head told him otherwise.

You gently took his arm and began walking briskly away from Sir Cormac, satisfied with the final look you caught of the red handprint on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” George asked softly. “I didn’t mean to offend you by trying to help, I just know how he can be and I – ”

“Please don’t apologize, I’m…I’m quite glad you came to my rescue, Mr. Weasley.”

“Have you forgotten my name already, Your Highness?”

You shuddered at the formality and George burst into laughter, the sound of which made the fluttering from this morning come back tenfold.

“My apologies, George,” you emphasized.

Soon, you reached your Father’s study and relayed your encounter with whom, he thought to be, one of his most trusted knights. You excused yourself quite quickly after your Father thanked George for “coming to your rescue”, as he so aptly put it, and you would have to have been blind to miss the wink your Father gave you at the sight of George following you like you were the Sun and he was a mere satellite.

“I guess I’ll have to find a new target,” George mused as the two of you walked down the corridor together.

You stopped abruptly, causing George to crash into you roughly, but he had no time to react before you screeched.

“It’s been YOU? You’re the infamous castle prankster? All this time I’ve been trying to figure it out and I had absolutely no idea.”

“Well, you didn’t really know I existed until yesterday, did you?” He teased.

Although his tone was lighthearted, you couldn’t help but look down in embarrassment. You were ashamed that you hadn’t tried harder to meet him before your chance encounter, if not to thank him for helping your Mother but to comfort someone who you knew was still facing the same sorrows as you. It was the thought of confronting that grief that selfishly held you back, but that excuse didn’t make it any less difficult to deal with.

“Hey, Y/N, I was only joking. We wouldn’t have met any other way, our paths hadn’t ever intertwined.”

“I know you’re right but I should have made more of an effort. I wanted to, after I heard about your brother, because I thought maybe you might want someone to talk to who can relate, but I wasn’t ready to talk about Clara.”

George stayed silent, sensing you had more to say after your pause. You fiddled nervously with your necklace, wondering if Luna had magic powers as you watched him struggle miserably to avert his gaze from your chest.

“Actually,” you began thoughtfully, “yesterday was the first time I’ve spoken about her since she passed. Of course, people ask how I’m doing or my Mother, Father, or siblings will reminisce, but I never…I never bring her up on my own.”

“That’s how it was at first for me. My family is very close, and I know they all loved Fred just as much as me, but it was different. I lost my twin, my best friend, my other half, and when they started healing and moving on, I stayed stagnant. It took me so much longer than my siblings and my parents, but once you take that first step it gets easier.”

You smiled and reached for George’s hand, praying that your palms weren’t as sweaty as you thought they might be.

“George and Fred…a nice ring to it, I think. I’m sure you got up to all kinds of mischief together.”

“Oh, no one ever called us George and Fred. It was always Fred and George,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, I may be biased, but I think it sounds better my way.”

Feeling bold, you winked at him before slightly tugging his hand toward his workshop, eager to start your lessons and spend the day locked away with just George.

If you had turned around only slightly, you would have seen George’s cheeks flushed as red as his hair and a dopey smile on his handsome face.

The door to George’s workshop swung upon with ease, and you gazed with wonder upon the many cauldrons, ingredients, and tools laid out on the nearest table.

“Welcome to Potions 101,” George bellowed comically. “Today, we’ll be making a remedy for nausea to start out simple. I brewed my own batch earlier this morning, and everything you need to make yours, including instructions, is right here on this table. When you have finished, we’ll compare yours to mine.”

“So I just…get started?” You questioned.

“Exactly. My Mum always told me that the best way to learn is get thrown right into it. I’ll be sitting right here if you have any questions, but I’m not going to assist you in anyway unless absolutely necessary.”

You furrowed your brows as George sat down in an armchair across the room. While you weren’t sure exactly how he was going to teach you, you definitely weren’t expecting him to sit in silence while you stumbled your way through his chicken scratch directions.

After thirty minutes of no noise except for the roaring fire underneath your cauldron, you huffed and hoped it sounded as annoyed as you felt.

“Is there something bothering you, Y/N?” George smirked.

“Well, yes. How come you aren’t speaking to me?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to. You’re here to learn and conversation is distracting.”

“I thought we could, I don’t know, get to know each other. I mean, if I have to brew remedies for stomach problems in silence every day I might lose my mind and it’ll be entirely your fault.”

You heard George chuckling and looked up to find him looking at you, eyes alight with a playful glint.

“Ms. Y/L/N, did you have an ulterior motive when you asked me to teach you? Did you maybe just…want to spend time with me?”

“That is very bold of you to assume, George,” you stammered, accidentally dropping far more peppermint than needed into your bubbling cauldron.

George remained silent, the teasing look still on his face as you scrambled to save your mixture. Since it was impossible to separate liquids, you angrily sat down and blew a stray hair out of your eye with an aggravated sigh.

Now that your face was covered by the cauldron, you felt more inclined to answer George’s question.

“What if I did have an ulterior motive? Would that…would that change what’s happening here? Are you the Potions Master teaching an eager student? Or…or is this something else?”

You heard no response except for approaching footsteps. George stopped in front of you, taking your hand and pulling you from your seated position.

“I have a confession to make,” he said quietly. “I know we officially met yesterday, but I’ve known who you are for quite a while now. Not just in the “you’re the Princess of the Kingdom I live in” way but, I’ve been…watching you I guess I could say.”

You raised an eyebrow, eager to hear how he would explain that away.

“Not creepily watching you, no, not at all, I just…I saw you one day in the gardens. I knew who you were but I wasn’t sure if I could approach you, you’re the Princess, and then I saw you talking to Neville. You were so kind and treated him like a friend, like an equal. When you left I asked him about you and he told me how you and your family weren’t like other Royals. He told me about your sister and how he was so sad that he hadn’t seen you genuinely smile since she passed and I felt, I felt connected to you.”

He paused and tentatively reached for your face with his other hand. You gladly accepted and placed your own on top of his, relishing in the way his calloused fingers delicately traced your cheek.

“Before Fred died, our business was…unconventional, I guess you could say. We sold gag gifts, joke items, pranking seminars, anything to do with causing mischief, in the surrounding villages. It was wonderful and we got to do something we loved and were passionate about, together, but when he died that passion died with me. Until I came here, and I saw the way your eyes lit up when one of your little brothers chased the other with a spider or jumped out from behind a pillar to scare one of the castle staff. You didn’t smile, but I saw the twinkle in your eyes and it made me want to explore that part of myself again, if only to make you laugh.”

“George,” you whispered, “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

“I know, I know, it’s creepy. I’m creepy. I shouldn’t have said anything – “

“George!” You cried, interrupting him. “I think you’re incredibly sweet.”

“You…you do?”

“You spent your free time setting up things in the castle to make me laugh for the most selfless reason I can think of, why would I not think you’re sweet?”

“I thought you would think I was absolutely mad but, I just wanted to do whatever I could because I could see and relate to how you were feeling. It wasn’t entirely selfless, I admit, it helped me too.”

“Well, I’m glad that it did. You could have talked to me, you know. I don’t bite and I would hope that you realized my parents don’t believe in castle hierarchy.”

“I realized it straight away but…you made me nervous. Every time I thought I had the courage to say something I felt as if I’d throw up everywhere. Honestly, some of the times you knocked on my workshop door I was in here, I just didn’t know how to talk to you.”

You burst out laughing at his admission, trying to picture George Weasley hiding behind his bookshelves of potions or in a broom cupboard because he was too nervous to speak to you.

“That’s how I felt this morning,” you said quietly. “I woke up and thought I must be sick, but Luna informed me it was just nerves.”

“You were nervous? Over me?”

“Well, you are quite handsome. And maybe I was worried I wouldn’t be any good at making nausea remedies which, as it turns out, I’m not.”

“Eh, you just need a bit of practice. I say you come here every day, twice a day until you can make every potion, draught, remedy, herbal supplement, and tonic in existence.”

You tilted your head back to laugh, and when you looked back up at George you became irritatingly aware of how close your faces were.

“I think there’s something else I’d like to practice…” you whispered as you leaned in.

Your lips brushed his, softly, delicately, like butterfly wings, just long enough that if anyone had looked away, they would have missed it.

You backed off slowly, worried that you had misread this entire situation, but the instant you leaned away George grabbed your face with his hands and kissed you with such fervor you stumbled backward. Your hands snaked around his neck to hold yourself steady and his nose bumped yours clumsily as you navigated the unfamiliarity of one another.

He tasted of peppermint and tea, like the flames of a fire that currently roared to life in your stomach and your chest. He was soft and rough, warm and inviting, and your senses could only know George. George. George. His name, a mantra in your mind as your fingers tangled in his messy hair and he let out a breathy moan.

“George,” you whispered against his lips, breathing deeply to ease the burning ache in your lungs.

He opened his eyes slowly, pupils blown and searching for your own. You must have looked a sight, and the thought of anyone walking in to your current predicament caused laughter to erupt from you.

“What’s so funny, love?” He asked with a small smile.

“I was just thinking about what might happen if someone walked in at this very moment.”

George ran quickly to the door and locked it while you stood laughing at his distress. A look of annoyance was clear on his face as he staggered back to you, confirming that your kiss had affected him just as much as it had affected you.

“Oh come on, George, it’s not like you’d be banished from the Kingdom. You’d just have to explain to my parents why you were snogging my face off without asking their permission to court me first.”

Now that you said it aloud, you could understand his fear.

“Well,” he breathed out as he slid an arm around your waist, “now that I’m certain there can be no interruptions, what do you say we get back to practicing?”

“You’re absolutely right, George,” you said cheekily as you turned away from him. “I do believe I have a nausea remedy to restart.”

“Aye, that you do.”

***

taglist: @thoseofgreatambition @theboywhocriedlupin @theseuscmander @fortisfiliae @carolinesbookworld @starssayhello @finnofamerica @swellwriting @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @marauderskeeper @wildfire-whizbangs @woakiees @claclary @love-peachh also tagging some mutuals who maybe might want to read! if you do not, PLEASE let me know and I apologize profusely!: @ickle-ronniekins @hollands-weasley @weasleytwinswheezes @theweasleysredhair @sleep-i-ness @barnesjamcs

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 3: "Language"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Her Marius Pontmercy could easily be labeled sometimes as being somewhat an odd fellow.

Do not misunderstand her; for all his oddities, Cosette was still very much in love with him, but it could be quite confusing trying to parce through his rapid speeches and lines, many times only just being able to catch phrases such as "I love you" as Marius Pontmercy rushed on an on about his speech.

At the present, however, she believed her Marius was being unbearably rude. The last night they had seen each other in the garden, he had been coughing a great deal, which certainly would not do. How dare he worry her like so?

That annoyance at his rudeness, however, turned to fear as she awaited his presence in the garden, her Papa and Toussaint having already fallen deep into their sleep on account of the late hours of the night.

Why hadn't he shown up yet? She huffed and adjusted her bonnet, annoyance quickly growing once more. How very inconsiderate to keep her waiting like this! She would be having words with him later on, remind him of how important it was to be on time to receive a lady.

A snap of a twig outside the garden gates caught her attention, and already having recognized the familiar weight of the footsteps, she rushed forwards towards the great gates, and whispered out, "Monsieur, is that you?" When no response came, she crossed her arms and raised her voice just the slightest bit, "Look, monsieur, I am already cross with you, do not aggravate me any further. Honestly, is this any to treat a lady? Making her wait so long?" She turned around and refused to look at him; when no answer came, she turned back, confused. In the gleaming moonlight she could make out the lovely coiffed curls so prominent on Marius, but when she moved forward, the rest of the figure enshrouded by the night's dark jolted, slipping something between the grilled gates, and rushing away.

Curse her foolish lover and the late hour in which they meet. She could not even call out for him, lest she wake her Papa and Toussaint. Instead, she had to huff and watch as Marius Pontmercy hurried away, having avoided her on this night.

Just as she was about to head back into the manor, already planning out exactly what she would be writing in her notebook, the clouds around the moon shifted and spilled a sliver of light over what Cosette could now see was a folded slip of paper. A note.

She remembered, now, her Marius' penchant for sending notes and love letters, and as she unfolded the paper and caught sight of the scrawled lines, she could see that it was indeed the latter:

My dearest Cosette,

Oh that it is my woe that I should be separated from you on this night! I never wish to be parted from you, and yet it seems destiny seems to have other plans for my fate.

As has been the source of your consternation over these last few days, I have taken ill. The cough I had been so hoping would fade to nothing has unfortunately only grown harsher and worse. My friend, Courfeyrac—you don't know him—has taken notice to this, and has expressly forbid that I should journey outside our flat.

He is aware I have been seeing you, and yet he was still unrelenting in nt allowing me come meet when we usually do. He doesn't quite understand the workings of the heart—the most he's had have been quick flings. I beg you do not think of him poorly, however. At heart he is truly a good man.

The only way I was able to sneak out and give you this letter you now hold in your hands was when Courfeyrac had not yet returned from his meeting at the Musain—you won't know of those either. You know, he almost didn't go, was quite willing to stay by my side, but I forced him to go. He musn't miss out on his politics because of me.

My heart aches to be with you, my dearest. It is as they say—love is the best kind of medicine. I beg you hold me in your heart so that your Marius may return to you sooner than what may be too late.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

Sick? Oh how fretful! So she was justified, then, in her worry about that cough! If only she could have brough him into the manor, she would have had him in bed, at his side, ready should he need anything, and gently scolding his sleeping form for causing her such worry.

She made to fold up the letter and trudge gloomily back to her room, when a few more lines after the signature at the bottom appeared:

Je t'aime.

I love you.

Ich liebe dich

Je t'aime was all fine, and warmed her heart as she still stood, remaining in the garden. But these last two lines confused her—what on earth was this gibberish? Why did Marius believe she would know what it meant?

She hummed to herself as she stole back into the manor quietly so as not to wake Toussaint.

Perhaps her Marius had written it in a state of delirium. It was quite possible. Still, she kept the note safe on her little table.

_________________________________________

The next night was much the same. Cosette waited once more in the garden, a mix of anticipation and worry ebbing within her. If he did not return today, she thought she might faint of devastation—it was quite improper to worry a lady like this!

Again, as she spotted what she thought was Marius' curls, she hurried towards the gates, disappointed as that familiar figure rushed away once more.

She unfolded the note he had dropped with fear.

My dearest Cosette,

It seems as if this illness is a stubborn one. Courfeyrac, the friend I mentioned in my previous letter, brought over one of his friends today; he's training to become a doctor. He declared that it was nothing too serious and that I should be fine, however he was a little concerned with the way I had gone pale and started trembling. I purposefully neglected to inform him the reason for such a thing occurring was likely due more to his visit. I have not had many joyful memories of him from the first time we met.

I shall hope and pray sincerely that we meet tomorrow. I am sure God will grant me this one request. He does have much to make up for to me, anyways.

I beg you continue to think of me as I know you were doing yesterday. I could hear your whispers in the wind, calling for my name.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

And again, those three lines at the bottom, the last two still remaining a sequence of gibberish:

Je t'aime

I love you

Ich liebe dich

Her heart sunk. Her love was still ill, and so she would have to worry even more. She knew she shouldn't be concerned over whether her Marius was being well taken care of in his sick bed—the way he had spoken of this Courfeyrac made it seek as if he truly was in good hands—but she simply could not help it. She worried for her Marius. Oh curse this rainy season!

_________________________________________

That next night, Marius finally appeared back in her full sight.

The moon cast a glow over his face. His curls seemed a bit greasier, his face perhaps paler, and there were shadows that were rimmed beneath his eyes; all in all, however, Cosette still saw the handsome man who had caught her attention at the Luxembourg Gardens.

"Oh monsieur!" she cried, though in a quiet whisper as best as she could. She ran up to him, stopping short of embracing him and instead cupping her hands to his cheks. "How pale you've turned!" She drew back to glare at him. "It was very rude, you know, to have caught an illness like so; have you any idea the worry you caused me?"

It seemed as if Marius Pontmercy who was in the seventh heaven, could not muster words, only call out "Cosette!" in joy.

She crossed her arms and sat back down on her bench. "No, monsieur, I will not be having this at all! First with your illness worrying me and then your gibberish letters confusing me.".

At this, Marius Pontmercychimself turned confused. "Gibberish?" he repeated. "But I thought they were rather clear?"

Cosette waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes, it was all fine and good, but then you wrote these three lines underneath, and I only know what the first one means." She drew out both the letters she had made sure to bring this time around. "See!"

She pointed to where he had written these lines, I love you and Ich liebe dich. "This is gibberish."

Marius Pontmercy glanced at the paper before softly chuckling. Cosette frowned.

"You only continue your rudeness," she said, annoyed. "I call out this serious problem, and you laugh."

When her Marius finally stops laughing and catches his breath, he further softens his eyes and said, "Cosette, I was telling you I love you."

Cosette raised an eyebrow. Yes, I know what that sounds like, but neither of them match je t'aime.

Marius knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own. A bold move. "That might be because they're in two different languages."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Different languages?"

"Yes—you remember me telling you I'm a translator? I know English and German, those are the languages on the letters."

Cosette huffed once more and shifted her eyes to just to the right and far off from where Marius Pontmercy would sit. "Well how was I supposed to know this? And why write 'I love you' in three different languages when one is enough?"

Marius Pontmercy rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her palm. He tugged gently to bring her attention back to him. "It's because," he whispered softly, "I wanted you to know that in whatever language—French, English, or German—nothing will ever change this constant: that I love you."

Well, alright. Okay. So maybe Marius Pontmercy's thought of gibberish then wasn't so bad.

She smiled to herself. She would be keeping these letters safe. Especially as her Marius said, "In case it wasn't clear enough, however, let me express this in a language you understand," and he lifted the tip of her foot encased within its shoe and pressed his lips gently to it.

[falling-heights]

I know that this one is a classic but how about a rivalry between goku and vegeta?

Now, what divides Goku and Vegeta the most in this rivalry, and what most often leads to conflict is the motive behind their actions and decisions.

Goku, though not always morally or mentally sound, is still his golden-hearted self, and will somewhat remain that way no matter the outcome. He won’t cause harm to you in any physical way, and he’ll do his best to heal what mental damage may surface. 

Vegeta on the other hand, doesn’t have a limit. He’s calloused and cruel. What happens to you or anyone else is thrown out the window so long as he gets the results he wants. 

So to speak: Goku is the light and gentle side, Vegeta is the dark and passionate side.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though, dear. There is much to be discussed before I can satisfy you with the most tempting bits. What’s most important in this moment, is their nature and how this will all start. 

Vegeta is very boxed up about himself and how he feels. Though you won’t know half the crazy and grotesque thoughts that float around his head, it’s also likely that he won’t keep these feelings in check until he’s right at his breaking point.

Goku, quite dissimilarly, is openly vocal about his thoughts, and such thoughts will remain mild until he’s threatened. He’s overall friendly and welcoming which results in you being somewhat closer to him from the start. Though romance is equally open to them both. 

Goku will be the first to take notice of the other. He’ll recognize Vegeta’s lingering glances quite early on. 

From this, Goku will build up a subconscious hostility to the short saiyan whenever you’re around. 

This will likewise cause Vegeta to grow an annoyance at Kakarot’s clingy traits. Goku may attempt to herd you around early on. Vegeta will sense paranoia for what Kakarot may be saying when he wasn’t around. 

To secure himself safely into your life, and to ensure that his rival isn’t spewing ridiculous rumors, he will make sure to be around you more often. 

Though still mild, this is only the start of their true rivalry, it only gets worse from here. They will compete with each other like this for awhile, in a feeble and petty effort to gain your respect before the other. 

It is at this point that you will begin to notice the contrasts in their behavior and personalities. 

Goku, though being far more open, is careless and aloof. He is outwardly friendly, but it almost never comes across as romantic when he’s trying to be genuine about it. Centered around this issue is his constant physical affection. Goku does it so often and frequently that it only ever comes off in a friendly way. Even something like a kiss may be mistaken as a joke. Goku will be closer to you in a friendly aspect, which Vegeta would struggle with most of the time. 

But you can’t possibly think the Prince of all Saiyans does’t have some tricks up his sleeve as well, right?

What Goku lacks on a romantically and physically involved level, Vegeta sets new records. 

He’s far more calm and calculating. His humorless and mannered personality will come off as honest and serious. You can’t help but feel drawn to his soft-spoken charm and quiet nature. 

Not only that, but a physical gesture, something simple as holding your hand, or him being closer than usual is enough to make you blush. These kinds of moments will always be rare and fleeting, but they mean everything because he’s beginning to break away from his boxed up mentality. 

It’s strange how something so elementary can feel so much more intense when it comes from another person. But don’t you worry honey, he has many more things in store for you.  

I wouldn’t suggest you try to hide your reactions, though. He’s more than aware of how his body language is affecting you, and with each time he takes it to a new level, it’s a small victory against Kakarot. He’s confident that you’ll be his alone very soon, so long as he remains patient. 

Unfortunately, whether or not his words and actions are truly genuine is hard to determine. His desire for you spreads like poison. Your touch, your voice, your scent is like a drug. One that he draws evermore addicted to with each interaction. 

Now Goku is no fool in Vegeta’s cunning nature. He’ll know immediately once Vegeta starts his antics, and something will switch in his mind like a light. 

He can tell when your gaze lingers on the other saiyan when he’s in sight. He won’t fail to miss the danger and chaos within Vegeta’s eyes either. Without fear without guilt or regret, almost as if it were a silent challenge of authority. 

His paranoid behavior will only worsen the minute you ask him about Vegeta. 

Why were you so curious about him now? What had Vegeta done to get your attention, even when not around? Why weren’t you as involved when you spent time with Goku?

He will try to convince, or rather plead with you to open your eyes and see the red herring. Goku may be a fool, but he doesn’t joke about the safety of his loved ones, this much you knew. The fear in his eyes is more than enough to make you wary. But, you shouldn’t focus your anxieties just on Vegeta. Because Goku is hardly any better. 

He’ll try to isolate you, both from vegeta and the other Z-fighters. He knows what Vegeta is capable of, which will cause his delusions to escalate. A predominant disposition will take ahold of him. He’ll grow over-protective, hardly wanting you to go anywhere without his knowing. This is, likewise to Vegeta, add a factor into your growing discomfort around both men, though at this point, you’re position with Vegeta is much worse than Goku’s. 

Now, it would be Vegeta’s turn to notice a shift in your behavior. You’re far more withdrawn, more shy to his touch. You don’t talk as much, and when you do, it’s always unsure and nervous. And worst of all, when Kakarot was around, you’d recently developed a subconscious habit to shift towards that clown if Vegeta entered the room. 

This is both infuriating and teasing to the Prince of Saiyans. At one point, you had so carelessly flaunted everything at him, and now you could barely meet his eyes. This is his first tipping point. It’s a surprisingly mild reason, but out of anyone, he’s the most eager to lay claim to you. In his eyes, the sooner he can ward off Kakarot and assert himself as your lover, the better. 

He may be unstable, but Vegeta is always calculating, always thinking about the next best strategy. Which is why he’ll be the first to confront you. He will wait for a perfect moment. A moment where no one will be around to hear or stop him. And a moment is all he’ll need.

Vegeta will corner you, most definitely in a physical manner. He enjoys when you get squeamish because of his touch. He’ll want answers. Why had you shut down so abruptly? Why had she been so eager to get away when he got close?

In the same breath, his controlling attitude will take over. He’ll say Kakarot is no more than a bad influence on you, especially when Vegeta would give you so much more. 

“What good is a Clown before a King?”

You aren’t off the hook yet my dear. Oh no, Vegeta has much in store. He’ll want some significant sign of compliance. He won’t go all the way just yet, but still, something must be done. A kiss perhaps. He’s not one for constant physical affection, but you’re just asking for it with those large, watering eyes and quivering lips. 

Though, perhaps you should count yourself lucky for the ever-watchful Goku. He may not be around every second of the day, but he’s honed his senses well enough to sense your aura from any location. He’ll immediately know when you begin to panic during Vegeta’s intrusion. It’s simply a matter of finding you in time, though vegeta’s presence with your own will give him more than enough motivation. 

It won’t take him long. Goku will find you, uncomfortable by Vegeta’s advances, and in a state of minor hysteria. This will be his tipping point. He’d failed to protect you. And it wasn’t even innately your fault. Vegeta had been far more aggressive than he could have imagined, and it was his fault for not being there to protect you. 

This sense of failure, this blow to his pride and sense of duty will fill him with a furor that could make the devil cower and weep. It won’t take more than a second for Goku to lost himself, turning super saiyan and ripping vegeta away from you. At this point he can’t even hear or see anything else other than Vegeta, and he was out to kill. 

In these few seconds of freedom, you will be given a chance to run. The others, though most likely unaware of what stemmed this fight, will try their best to usher you away from the two saiyans. They can get you away, but they’re helpless to do anything except observe. 

A battle between the 12 gods would be nothing compared to the brawl taking place between these two. This wasn’t a simple spar like olden times. No, this was a fight to the death. One that neither party intended to lose, especially when there was such a prize so valuable on the line. 

There are only two ways this conflict can end. Compromise, or Death. [For your sake, I split these into two endings]

Death

Both men depraved.

Both men ravenous.

Both men seeking your favor and receiving none. 

Nothing good can come of it. 

I’d love to give Goku where his credit is due, and he’ll try his best, but he won’t be the one to rise victoriously in this. 

You have no idea how capable Vegeta can be when he’s determined enough. And he’s never wanted anything more than he’s wanted you. 

This will be a close battle. 

He’ll barely have enough strength to survive, but all that matters is Kakarot’s demise. It doesn’t matter what he has to lose in the process. 

It won’t take him long to find you. 

Whether you’re running or hiding, he’ll find you with ease, and put a stop to your hope of freedom for good.

There won’t be anyone to stop him. They’d all died long ago during the fight, caught in the cross-fire. 

Everything was perfect now. He had you, no one to stop him, and the power to do anything he wanted. 

Submit before he forces you, it would only make things so much easier in this new way of survival.

You can only hope for another route of escape, or some way for Goku to come back and save you. 

But this is unlikely.

Compromise

Yes, how exciting...

But compromise how, you might ask?

Fusion

And the only permanent fusion for these two could be the potara. 

Now, we all know that if they fought to the death, only one will come out alive, and even that is a gamble far too risky for you dear. 

Vegeta would be unwilling to admit defeat, and Goku is too worried to lose you. 

For your sake, Vegeta may be willing to bite down his pride if it meant he could still somewhat have you as his. 

Goku wouldn’t like it any more than his counterpart, but for you, he’d give up that freedom. Goku would be the one to propose the idea. 

Only at the absolute minute, when he knew neither he nor Vegeta would be able to carry themselves much longer. He’d brought the pair of earrings as a precaution, knowing it may have been his only option. 

You won’t have made it far when their forms fused. The pillar of light, that could have been seen hundreds of miles away, blinded you. 

But the figure that emerged from this light was familiar. Two side-swept bangs, gloves, earrings, and that bastard smile. His eyes shone with a dark sense of possession. They immediately located your form in the small distance that you had made, his sneer seeming to grow evermore taunting. 

The others that stayed behind to help you flee won’t last more than a few seconds against this beast. 

You can’t imagine the monster that Vegito really is. 

He’s worse than Goku and Vegeta could have ever been. His amplified traits don’t just lie in raw power. His emotions would also be stronger several dozen times over than either of his predecessors. 

He may like to play with his food, but he can get serious in the blink of an eye. And keep in mind, he’s far more unstable and dangerous as well. 

Vegito probably won’t kill you, but you can’t expect a normal life after he catches you. You’ll be safe, without a doubt. But no one will ever be as much as a threat as him. 

Check out my other stuff!

[geraldineswriting]

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧

(𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁)

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 = 𝘓𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 = 2𝘬

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 = 𝘖𝘊 𝘹 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 = 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 & 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 & 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

(𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘧, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳!)

Small snowflakes filled up the frostbitten window, while the dimming fire started to burn to ash in Liliana’s living room. The wind blew through the vents in the ceiling, filling up the air with loneliness and indecision. The young girl sitting on the couch was lost and in love with a love that didn’t exist. A love that always lived in her dreams but never spilled over to reality. Her soft pajama pants were clean and new but her heart was tattered and bruised. 

Liliana looked over to the picture that had been framed and put on her shelf three years ago, showing a boy and a girl with their arms placed over each other so naturally that it was questionable. She could still feel his arm being placed on her shoulder and his laugh in her ear, “Smile like you mean it, Liliana Stuart.” 

That was the night they first met, caused by her unabashed loud laugh, which resulted in Rafe’s curiosity to see what could be so funny at one of his family's parties. She went home that night, finally knowing what it was like to fall in love with a stranger. It took the next three years for her to find out what it was like to fall in love with someone who couldn’t love her back. 

Liliana had been home for the past six days, not caring to leave her house or turn on her phone. The street lights that burned through her windows kept her company while the thoughts in her head left her haunted. In the past week, she had come to a few realizations that needed to be recognized. For one, she was in love with Rafe Cameron and the choice to pretend she didn’t was no longer an option. Second, she needed to move on because sacrificing even another day of her sanity just so he could unknowingly spend his time in her head was now pointless. And finally, she had to tell him. There was no other way for her to find closure except to hear it from his own mouth. Liliana knew and now she had made a choice.

In the past three years, she had become best friends with a boy, who then turned into a man. She knew the Rafe that hurt people but now she knew the Rafe that had turned his own and others pain into forgiveness. He’s still the same man she met all those nights ago, but now drugs, negativity and immaturity were no longer in the picture. He had opportunity and promise, now not just as a wealthy kook but also as himself. Maybe that's why he accepted the job offer to the mainland. Maybe it was something else. 

Liliana sat up, memorizing the cracks in the floor, trying to understand it all. When did her curiosity turn into adoration? Why can’t she unlove him? Why can’t he love her? She knows every answer but because of the flame that is burning in her heart, she needs to put it out. She needs to be able to wake up everyday and not ache with the false knowingness of imaginary maybes. It was time to move on.

The phone was picked up and turned back on, the screen turning from black to color. A few texts pop up, but only one catches her attention.

Are you alright? Call me. 

Such a simple question that carries such a complicated answer sent from such a beautiful person. It looks like it was only sent a few hours ago as she pressed his contact and called him. She held the phone much tighter than she meant to, nervousness creeping into her bones and settling itself as the goosebumps on her skin. 

“Thank fuck, are you alright?” Rafe asked breathlessly into the phone.

“Yeah, sorry for disappearing, I-I,” She paused, no longer knowing that way with which she wanted this to go. 

“It’s okay, I know what it’s like. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

“Thanks, I’m fine. I was actually wondering if you were busy right now?” Her nervous laugh filled the sudden silence. Is she being stupid? Reckless? Or is she doing the right thing?

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorry I was looking at the time. Yeah, want me to pick you up?” 

“Sounds fine, see you soon then.” 

“See you soon.”

Rafe hung up and her ears were only filled with the faint sound of absolute silence. She felt scared and maybe even terrified. She looked back over to the picture frame on the shelf, his smile breaking her heart. How many times has he given her that same smile, all happiness and teeth, unknowing to the repeated pain it left her with. If only she could unlearn every smile, and laugh so that maybe his curse could be lifted off of her. She could be free. 

She stood up and slipped on a pair of sandals, keeping on her pajama pants and sweatshirt. She decided to wait on the front porch, even if a light snow covered the ground. Maybe the cold could freeze the river of heat flowing through her heart. 

She waited for a few minutes until she saw his small car pull up in her driveway. As she walked towards the car to get in, he jumped out, racing over to her side first. 

“Wait, I think we both need a hug first, it's been too long.” He wrapped her up in his arms and for a fleeting moment she remembered why she ever mistook his friendliness for more. He felt like a healing heart, an ending to end all endings. 

“I missed you Liliana Stuart even if it’s only been a week.”

“And I, you Rafe Cameron.” She could feel the painful lump in her throat, the feeling of tears crawling their way to her eyes. She was able to temporarily blink them back before he pulled away. She couldn’t let him see her pain, not tonight.

They both got into the car, him speeding down the street to stop into a desolate parking lot. She had a feeling that he knew she wanted to talk, which made this conversation somewhat easier to handle. She had to be strong, to not show her weakness. 

Once he parked, her hands clammed up in the pockets of her sweatshirt. Liliana felt his eyes burning into her skin like fire. She matched his gaze, so many different questions burning between the two. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. 

“What’s been going on Liliana?” He whispered into the silence, trying to make himself seem comforting. Rafe had a deep feeling he knew what this was going to be about.

“It’s been a hard week and I just needed to think about things. With us I mean.” The tears were coming again and this time they were unstoppable. They seared her eyes, even though she used every bit of strength to fight them off. Just like loving him though, it was useless to try and stop.

“Hey, it's alright, you know you can tell me anything.” 

“I don’t know how to tell you this Rafe,” She paused trying to gather her thoughts. “To put this into words just seems impossible.” 

He could hear the anxious thoughts rolling around in her head. He could see the tears cascading down her face like a never ending waterfall of pain. He couldn’t stand seeing her like this.

“Well then how about I start?” He squeezed her hand tighter, now holding her hand in both of his. She looked out the window as she nodded, not standing the fact that she was having such a hard time doing something that should be so simple.

“I uh, we’ve been friends for three years and you mean so much to me. I know that something is wrong but just know that whatever it is, it won’t change our relationship. I’ll still be here.” He took a deep breath, trying to pick his next words carefully. He knew that he didn’t want to hurt her more, or make this any worse. “I’m guessing this has to do with more than just me moving away for that job.”

Liliana couldn’t stand the heartstopping pain that coursed through her lungs from using every bit of her self-control to not say what she couldn’t.

“Rafe, that’s the thing,” She gasped for breath, “I want our relationship to change. It’s the fact that no matter what I do you can’t love me like I need you to. My hands are so empty except for when they’re in yours. I’m just, I’m just in love with you and I don’t know how to make you love me back.” 

The ball had dropped. The unspeakable words were spoken. They both knew his next words would heal or break her heart. She tore her hand away from his hand, holding her head up on her own. The only proof of her sobs was the shaking of her shoulders, face hidden away from his sight. She couldn’t look him in the eyes when he shattered her into pieces.

Rafe wasn’t surprised those were the words that tumbled from her lips. Some part of him always knew her heart belonged to him. He just wished she had told him earlier because now things had changed. He was moving and starting a new life in a land that she had no plans to travel to.

He gently placed his hand on her back, taking back one of her hands with his other. 

“Hey, come here.” He spoke so gently, as he guided her into his arms. She gripped his shoulders, crying into his neck.

“I’m so sorry, Rafe. I’m sorry.” 

“There is absolutely no reason to be sorry,” She felt his hands on her back, holding her like she was a fragile piece of fine china that was breaking no matter how hard he held on.

“You know I love you back right? I always have.” He felt her cries pause as she slowly leaned back from his sheltering hug. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I never said anything because I never imagined you could feel the same. I thought you only ever looked at me like a friend.” Liliana spoke in a tone she hadn’t used in years, a tone with sincerity and happiness intertwined together. She couldn’t believe it.

“Since the night we met, I’ve always loved you Liliana Stuart. I just wish one of us said something sooner. We both know things have changed now.” 

And there it was. The happy moment that filled the air with static had ended. Reality was once again set into place and it was cruel and unapologetic. 

“So what do we do now?” She asked quietly, scared that if she spoke any louder it would chip further away at their already cracked hearts.

“Well the first option, which is my least favorite, is we do nothing. I move away and every once in a while we'll do our best to keep in touch as friends.”

“I don’t like that option either. Option two?” He was relieved to hear her answer.

“Option two, we try out a relationship until I leave. Then, well I guess, we go back to being friends. Again not my favorite choice.” 

“Please tell me there’s another choice.” 

She wished so deeply that he wasn’t moving away, or that they had this conservation years ago. This seemed entirely unfair for both of them. Love wasn’t supposed to be like this, timing was supposed to be rooting for them, not making things harder. 

“There is our last option,” He held her hand, looking into her swollen eyes. “You come with me.”

“Yes.” She spoke with such vibrance and assurance that it was undeniable. She had made up her mind and nothing could possibly change it. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret this Liliana.”

“Are you going to regret this Rafe?” He didn’t even need to think twice.

“No, not if it’s you.” 

“Then that’s that. I’m coming with you and we’re doing this.”

They couldn’t stop looking away from each other. They finally had unspoken permission to love each other without the secret glances and stolen touches. They were each other's for the taking, no holding back. 

“Can I kiss you Lil?”

“You better Rafe Cameron.”

[pseudofaux]

Omg who is a character that doesn’t get a lot of love uhh 🤔 maybe some spice for Isaac if you’re up for it?

He really doesn’t, you know! Thankfully there was Isaac Week recently (...I think recently, what is time lately 🙃), but HERE is a little more love and spice for him, and thank you for asking for it! 🍎♥️ Not very spicy... just a little butter and cinnamon on a baked apple. Soft. 

--|--

He’s really such a gentle man, and a gentleman. He has his temper, but Isaac is quick to give grace whenever he sees people being serious about their interests. Sometimes space, too (Dazai’s poetry comes to mind), but he’s not sharp for sharpness’ sake. He’s actually quite tender and soft-spoken, she’s found as they read alongside one another.

But sometimes he does get frustrated at things he doesn’t know, or can’t make work the way he dreams. She things everyone must be like that, and she certainly doesn’t begrudge him the irritation, because now he is careful not to aim any of his unhappiness at her. In fact, she has to catch him at it. Deep in her heart she nurtures something Leonardo told her, and hopes it is true: The little lightkeep is happier since you came to us, signorina.

Better behaved or happier, she does have to find his temper, because it doesn’t much find her these days. And one morning she finds it and tames it, and after that she does not doubt Leonardo.

She can tell as soon as she walks through the library door that he’s upset. There are far more open books than usual on the table where he likes to work, and the floor is littered with loose pages-- that’s the biggest clue, he’s meticulous about communal spaces like the library. His own room can sometimes get messy when he’s getting the genius out of his head and onto paper, but he’s adamant about respecting spaces where others work. She’s seen him put himself in a tizzy over it, actually. So the untidiness is not a good sign, nor the tight set of his shoulders as he glances frantically from page to page in his hand, sets one down, then picks it up.

“Isaac?” she asks, setting down the tea tray on a table far from the carpet of paper. When he turns to her he looks like he might cry, and it takes everything in her not to make a sound of alarm. She minds her steps as she quickly goes to him and touches his arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Neither of these were bound,” he says, panic rising toward anger, mirroring the way he holds up two empty folios. “Someone left them here and they fell when I was trying to clean off our table”-- he gulps, adorably embarrassed at our table, which she leaves well enough alone-- “and now they are horribly out of order and they aren’t numbered in any fashion, who would put anything to paper in such a foolish way?!”

He is breathing heavily by the time he finishes. She looks at the many, many pages covering the desk and floor.

“Well,” she thinks outloud “it looks like at least some of them are different colors, see the ones that are on darker paper? Let’s put those together. If they’re all completely out of order, it won’t make anything worse.”

He agrees immediately, and they set to it. When the darkest pages are gathered into a pile, they look for significantly lighter ones and put those together, too. Then they consider the ink and the style of the diagrams. The focus of the task calms him and makes her feel useful. Their tea goes cold by the door, and they truly cannot put things in order, there is no pagination either of them recognize... but they do know which pages belong together, and the floor is clear enough that they sit on it, backs against the tall reading desk where they’d planned to work together today. 

She sighs, relieved and a bit tired. “It’s probably nearly time for lunch,” she says with a laugh. “So much for our morning of reading together.”

“We were still together!” Isaac says. When she looks at him, surprised by his insistence, he is quite pink, and looks as though he wants to grumble at himself. She looks at her hands in her lap instead and makes her lips into a line to keep them from becoming a smile.

“We were,” he says, more quietly. “And I’m... glad. You were here. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and... you really helped.”

She can feel the wash of happiness settling over her arms like a shawl. He’s still learning, but he tries, always. She scoots closer and can’t keep her mouth in a line when she realizes he’s doing the same. They meet in the middle of the deskfront, lovely varnished wood with carved wreaths and flourishes. His arm goes between her back and the pretty wreaths, and curls loosely around her. Neither of them say anything, but she opens her hands in her lap and his slides inside. There’s a stain of old ink or new soot on one finger and she can’t help herself-- she brings it up and ducks her head down to kiss it.

“I’m happy we were together, too,” she whispers. He goes a bit stiff around her, then she can feel the way he softens. As if to prove it, he tips his hand so the fingers lace with hers, and then he uses their knuckles to gently push her chin up.

“Thank heavens for you,” he says, just beside her mouth, and she’s shocked but so delighted she snaps her eyes shut instead of risking him feeling too watched. She thinks she hears his nearly-silent laugh, and she knows she gets to enjoy a sweet reward: a kiss, gentle and much bolder than she expected. He keeps his arm tucked around her and his hand under her face, and his other palm lands gently on her shoulder and keeps her there for kisses. They are quiet and alone in the library and she thinks his clever tongue on hers must be trying to say something in a language she doesn’t yet know. Maybe he can teach her.

She tells him so and he makes an exasperated, embarrassed huff and kisses her again. “You already know everything,” he whispers fiercely.

“Teach me anyway,” she whispers back. His smile is too close to be hidden from her at all, and she thinks it is more precious than the treasure of the Hesperides. 

They hear the bell ringing to announce lunch. They ignore it entirely.

[zaddyzemo]

helmut zemo x reader x heinrich zemo

⚔

cw: power imbalance, sexist language, abusive behavior, emotional manipulation, dub-con, attempted impreg

summary: your loyalty to the House of Zemo is tested when the 12th baron travels through decades to aid his son in restoring their legacy and carrying on the bloodline

author's note: for more context, check out this Avengers: Ultron Revolution clip and the two pre-serum Helmut Zemo x Reader drabbles written in that universe

as an octogenarian, Helmut Zemo is now older than his father ever was. however, watching Heinrich remove his purple cowl for you to assess the damage done by Captain Roger's fist to his face, he saw that thanks to the Super Soldier serum and time displacement, the two of them were physically the same age. "the swelling should go away by morning, sir," you smile at the face you've become familiar with through faded photos and the genes his son inherited from his side. "there is no damage to your cranium." Heinrich hissed when you touched up his stitches. "if it weren't for Zemo 2099, a little bruise would've been the least of my worries."

he wasn't talking to you, however, and he hadn't been since Helmut had brought him back to his now old castle along with the cyborg Zemo 2099. he ignored you in favor of berating his son, and you hadn't seen the baron look this humbled before. his mask was still on his hanging head and you suspected he kept it on to hide his pained expression. "I am grateful for his assistance in our battle against the Avengers. and for keeping you safe, Vater."

"his assistance? he practically fought every single one of them off on his own while you stood there like the weak link you are." Heinrich pushed you aside so that he can properly yell in Helmut's face all the insults your master would've plunged his sword through the one speaking them, but he didn't dare move a hand against his father. standing perfectly still and silent, he was falling back into the role of the perfect soldier since he failed at being a good son. he only shifted when the man screamed "the only reason you're still standing here is that you're my true heir's great grandfather."

the thirteenth baron was nobody's great grandfather. truth be told, he was nobody's father. in eighty years, there's been no shortage of women between his satin sheets and there's been more than a few men. however, there's never been a baroness. so preoccupied recreating his father, Heinrich Zemo's work and restoring their legacy he was that he ironically didn't spend a single second on producing an heir. you suspected that he didn't wish to subject his supposed brood with the same trauma he went through. he's always had a soft spot for children and you only found out once he took you in that the orphanage you grew up in was one of his many estates. he grew up an orphan himself, but he's always had his blue blood to help him gain access to all the resources he needed. as far as he was concerned, every child in every orphanage he ever built was his heir.

however, Henrich Zemo didn't see it that way. he saw his son flinch at the mention of offsprings and figured out that he doesn't have a grandchild in this timeline. "you've not produced an heir?" when Helmut couldn't meet his eyes and the shame in them was visible through the mask, Heinrich raised his voice again. "YOU HAVEN'T EVEN GIVEN ME AN HEIR? HOW IS THE HOUSE OF ZEMO SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE WITHOUT AN HEIR?"

"Vater-"

"did you try and fail as you do in everything? did you not even try?"

"Please, Vater-"

"what about das mädchen?" he pointed you out as you were packing the medical supplies. "did you not sire a child by her? i'd even name a bastard born from a bed wench my heir if it meant the Zemo name will survive until 2099."

"she is not a bed wench, she is my apprentice-"

his attempts at protecting your honor were weak and so was his voice. as powerful and proud of a man he was around his allies and even enemies, he was pathetic in front of his parent. he was silenced with nothing but a slap.

"how you survived all these decades without me I do not know and, truth be told, I do not care to know." Heinrich Zemo watched his son straighten his crown on his head and his mask on his face. he was not just disappointed, he was downright disgusted. "if it weren't for my title, my fortune, and my Super Soldier serum, the house of Zemo would've died with me."

"with all due respect, baron," you snapped, smoothening the bed sheets where he sat earlier. "your son has sacrificed everything for the survival of the Zemo name. if it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here in the first place."

he looked at you as if you were a stain on his boot. "how dare you speak to me that way? Helmut, how dare you let her speak to me that way?"

"you are dismissed, mein fräuline."

"even if she were a lady, she should know not to speak unless spoken to."

that was when Heinrich Zemo acknowledged you. and approached you. his eyes he had passed on to Helmut, but you've never seen them look down on you as if you were the dirt under his sole before.

"I'll see to it that she never speaks to you that way again, Vater," Helmut made one last attempt at deescalating the situation, but he already had you backed against the bed. his old bed. "she will be punished for her insolence."

"yes, she will." Heinrich raised his hand up in the air and struck you across the face with the back of it. "she will learn her place in my palace." the lesson seemed to be going well as you were too shocked to say a word and your master was practically mute where he stood frozen in place. the sting of the slap didn't hurt nearly as much as the shame. "she belongs beneath us." he grabbed you by the jaw and forced you to face him again. "and she will not speak over us. do you hear me, madchen? you are never to speak unless spoken to. is that clear or are your little peasant ears so dirty and clogged that you haven't heard a word I said?"

you tried looking back at your master, the thirteenth baron, but the twelfth wouldn't let you. he squeezed down on your jaw. "yes, sir."

"now was that so hard?" he loosened his grip and stroked the handprint he left on your cheeks and the tears that fell on top. you nodded instead of opening your mouth again. "of course not. you were born to obey, mein kleines lamm. and i was born to lead you lest you wander astray. no harm will ever come to you as long as you do as you are told. you will be safe, as long as you serve the house of Zemo. have I make myself understood or should i speak plainly so that you can follow along?"

"I've read all the books in the castle library, sir, including your journals. I can follow along with your words just fine."

when you saw him smile for the first time, you recognized it as Helmut Zemo's lips stretched across a row of carnivorous teeth. they were lions who've developed an appetite for lowly little lambs like you. "she's a mouthy one, isn't she? clever, too." father then turned to look at his son as he pushed the hair off of your shoulders and exposed your cleavage. "I see why you'd keep her close and even let her wear your own mother's clothes." then, he yanked your hair back and twisted it along with the rest of your body. when your back was against his chest, he came close to your ear and caught it between his canines. "you're lucky us Zemo men have a weakness for reckless women. you're always asking for it and we're always willing to set you straight."

"Vater, what are you-" Helmut found his voice, but he had yet to find the strength to step in between you and Heinrich.

"if you won't make a baroness out of this peasant girl, then I will." he licked the bitemark and buried you face-first into the bed covers. "my lineage will not end with you," he held your head down while lifting your skirts. "if you are too weak to sire an heir, then I'll do it myself."

you struggled, but he was too strong. his hands on you had a powerful grip as they parted your legs and ripped your underwear on the furst try. his hands also awakened the same ardor his son's did whenever he touched you. you were burning with shame and need in equal measure.

"you've kept a young, clean and ripe little cunt in my castle for years and you didn't even once consider it," Heinrich placed his pelvis between your thighs which were trembling in fear and anticipation. one of his fingers, his thumb, traced the lips and the leakage they were covered in. he did this several times, testing you. "look at this, Helmut. she's already wet and ready to receive me. she was made for this," he sinks his finger in and your cunt closes its warm and wet wall around it. "look at how she swallowed me whole. she was made to carry my royal brood," he chuckled, ecstatic to be so enthusiastically enveloped by you. "as lowly as you are, I'll turn you into the lady this fool never could, little lamb," he addressed you, but his words were meant to provoke his supposedly foolish son. still, you moaned into the mattress and even moved against his thumb, your body ready to be bred just like he said.

you almost missed the sound of Helmut hitting his father across his already bruised face, you were that preoccupied with whining pathetically at the loss of the feeling if being penetrated. all of a sudden, you were flipped over, your spime sinking into the mattress as your master - your true master - looked down at you with a bare face and a lustful gaze.

you sucked in air, breathless from Heinrich's ministrations and Helmut's manhandling. you didn't dare fight him ripping open your corset. finally, you could breathe snd he could behold your heaving breast which he marked as his with his teeth every night.

"I never impregnated her because I didn't want to, not because I couldn't," he looked back where his father lay on the floor. "i watched her grow under my own eyes, under a microscope, and I am very much aware of her fertile womb, father. and it is mine to turn into a bed wench, servant, assistant and even the mother of the next generation of Zemos, if I so desire." his large hands grabbed you under your knees and spreading you wide enough for him to slot himself between your legs. "she is mine."

"finally," Heinrich found his voice and his footing again as he stood up. "a show of strength," he watched you surrender to his son fully, arms flailing as you scratched the sheets in search of a grip. Helmut had entered you up to the hilt and split you open in one stroke. seeing his boy bury himself into your belly fully and noticing the bump his cock created in your abdomen, he grabbed him by his wide shoulders from behind. "you sound like the lion cub i never got to raise. you almost make me proud."

Helmut was heaving, his wide chest expanding as he lost himself in the luxury of your luscious cunt. he turned towards his father and his words of praise. "I am not a child anymore, father. I am a man. I take what is mine and tear apart all those who stand between me and what is mine." at this, he pulled out only to plummet back in. in a flash, his pace was fast and you found yourself mewling, a cat in heat or maybe a sacrificial lamb. you were his to devour.

"yes," Heinrich rubbed at Helmut's shoulders as his breathing got heavy. "yes, that's it," his hands moved lower, sliding down his spine and holding onto his lips. when the song stopped to slap the underside of your thigh, the father chuckled. "that's my boy," he squeezed his sides as they snapped against you, the sound of skin slapping against skin bringing the smirk back to his father's face as his son chased his carnal release. "mein guter junge," he nuzzled his ear. "now, come inside. come inside that cunt. that's your cunt, my boy, now claim it."

you tossed your head back as he lifted your hip up in the air and slid his cock so deep in your cunt, you saw stars on the ceiling.

"fräuline," Helmut grunted, burying himself deep inside your guts. "fräuline, you're mine." he tossed his head back against Heinrich's shoulder. "give me a son, mein fräuline."

"yes," your tongue lolled out as your eyes rolled back. your brain was a blur as you agreed to be a broodmare for the house of Zemo. "yesyesyes."

"come inside," his father pressed his lips against his earlobe. "make me proud," he kissed the shell of his ear. "come inside that cunt and give me an heir."

there's nothing he wanted more than to spill his seed inside of you. well, maybe getting more of his father's praise. once he emptied himself inside your womb, he got a pat on his head, sweaty head slicked back as you got a pat on your full tummy. "mein guter junge."

"Vater."

[a-cupof-jo]

Set Up My Heart PT. 11

Pt. 10 -- Pt. 11 -- Pt. 12

~~

College volleyball player!Johnny Suh x reader

Rivals-to-lovers

Fluff and angst

Synopsis: Ever since that fateful day Sophomore year of high school, Johnny Suh had been an insufferable thorn in your side. Once you made it to college you thought the two of you would never have to see each other again. That is, until a sudden school transfer has the entire university buzzing.

Warnings: some language, food mentioned

~~

Your foot had barely crossed the entrance way when a hand grabbed your wrist, "Take one more step and you're done for.” Your breath quickened as you couldn’t make out the face in the doorway. The thin hand tightened and you shifted further away, “Are you a friend or foe?” The female voice was pitched low in a hushed whisper. 

“Um,” you gulped, trying to figure out what she was doing here. “Friend?”

“Good,”  you were dragged into the dark apartment and an object was shoved into your arms. “We don’t have much time. Do you know how to shoot?” 

“What,” you squeaked, feeling around the object until you realized, it’s a gun. “Why are you here? What do you want with me?” 

“I’m out for blood,” you could feel the presence moving further away from you, down the dark hall to where you knew the bedrooms were. 

“No!” you yell. You lifted the gun pointing it directly at the shadowy woman, “I can’t let you hurt them!” You pulled back on the trigger. 

You waited a second. A yell sounded around the apartment, “Ouch, really right in the eye.” The lights flew on as Jaehyun’s laugh boomed through the apartment. 

Jaehyun was knelt over by the light switch, his hand supporting himself while his laughter threw him off balance. “Serves you right,” his eyes lit up as he took in the girl standing at the opposite side of the hallway. 

She tsk’d before dropping the nerf gun that swung in her hand. You watched as she jumped at Jaehyun wrapping her legs around his waist. He spun them around and around all the while laughing. He tilted his head up kissing her. They slowed standing still in the center of the living room. 

“Can you two get a room?” Jungwoo’s dislocated voice caught you off guard. He crawled out from between the couch and the wall. “Everytime, seriously.”

“Hi, Jungwoo,” you watched the girl giggle and hop down from Jaehyun’s arms. She pulled Jungwoo into a big hug. “It’s been too long. How have you been? What have you been up to lately?” 

“Hiding from a crazy girl that breaks into my apartment and tries to shoot me with a Nerf gun,” he glared down at the plastic toy laying in the hallway. He yelped when the girl hit his shoulder, “and I’ve just been focusing on school and tutoring.” He looked up at you, “Speaking of which. Y/n was here for tutoring before you coerced her into attacking you.” 

“Oh,” the girl spun to you. “That's right!” 

Jaehyun chuckled a smile on his face as he watched her, “Lila, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Lila, my girlfriend. Y/n lives down that hall and is our friend.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she stepped out of Jeahyun’s arms and embraced you in her own. You responded with similar words,  all the while you couldn’t help but think that Chonhee would get along great with her.  “Well,” she clasped her hands together. “I would love to stick around and get to know you, you’re busy, and Jaehyun promised to take me to the on campus ice cream shop.” 

“Oh,” you dropped your bag in the spot by the couch you usually sat on. “That sounds delicious right now. Make sure you try their new blueberry ice cream, it’s delicious!” 

Jaehyun and Lila grinned at you, opening the door to let in a cool breeze. “Will do! Now get to studying,” Jaehyun gave a pointed look to the backpack. “I don’t want to experience the night before stress crying again. I don’t know how to cheer you up.” 

You gasped at him, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I do not come over here to stress cry to you guys.”

“Oh, are you talking about Y/n’s test stress crying study sessions,” Johnny stood outside the front door. 

“No!” you yelled as Jungwoo laughed out a yes. 

“Ah, you see the way to handle that,” Johnny stepped inside the warm apartment. Jungwoo and Jaehyun leaned in slightly waiting for Johnny’s advice, “Is unknown, even in high school Y/n was this way.” He laughed as you huffed at him. He walked up next to you, “Do not worry,” he patted the top of your head. “STEM isn’t for everyone, and crying is normal.”

“I can’t tell if you're patronizing me or not.” You narrowed your eyes at his retreating figure. 

He waved his hand flippantly, “Take it as you will. I am ordering Chinese. You want your usual?”

You nod at Jungwoo who had come up to join you at the couch, “Yes, please.” He called down the hall. You heard an affirmative noise from Johnny. It was weird. You and Johnny’s new found tolerance of each other. Insults were still through back and forth. Years of hurt couldn't be buried under smiles and buying food for each other, but you had found that it was much easier to be at Jungwoo’s apartment now. In the nearly two weeks since the “truce”, as Johnny calls it when he feels the need to remind you that you two were being civil with each other, Johnny had turned from a thorn in your side or a hindrance to a sometimes helpful hand or at least he’s not actively trying to kick you out of the apartment anymore.

“Should we get to it?” Jungwoo shifted closer to you. You groaned, opening up your backpack, “Hey, don’t give me that. We have to this now so that you won’t-”

You clamped a hand over his mouth, “If you say ‘be over here stress crying’ I will steal the crab ragoon I know Johnny is going to buy specially for you.”

Jungwoo shook his and you lowered your hand, “I was going to say. So that you will be fully prepared for your upcoming test.”

“Mhhm,” you gave him a disbelieving look. He grinned at you and you grinned back. You jostled his shoulder and you moved in closer, “Okay, let’s get started before the food gets here.” 

30 minutes later, a loud knock broke you out of concentrating on the problem Jungwoo had you working on. “I’ll get it,” you stood from the couch and reached for the door. Johnny raced down the hall and stopped next to you. He pulled a couple of bills from his wallet before you opened the door. “Oh.”

“Kun,” Johnny greeted, surprised. 

“Hey, Johnny!” Kun handed over the food. He glanced over at you, his eyebrows furrowed a moment before recognition lit his face, “and Y/n. Nice to see you both. How’s it going?” His eyes dipped back over to Johnny as they exchanged food and money. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

“Yes,” Johnny's voice came out clipped.

Kun looked undeterred as if he didn’t pick up on Johnny’s shortness, “You still doing journalism?” At Johnny’s nod he grinned, “Man, you had some great stuff in high school, I’m sure you’re going to be great out in the real world. I still remember some great ones we wrote together. Like that expose on-” he cut off but you caught his gaze flicker to you. 

Johnny’s face remained neutral, “I didn’t write an expose with you.” He glanced down at the cash in Kun’s hand. “You know I would love to continue catching up, but we’ve got things to do. You can keep the change.” Before Kun could say another word, the door swung shut effectively stopping the conversation. Johnny couldn’t look at you as he took the food to the kitchen table. Dread filled your stomach. Why did it feel like the progress you had made with Johnny had been dissolved all because of Kun? Watching him tonight with Johnny, he seems to hate you. You had no idea why as you had never spoken with him in high school. Was he holding old grudges? As you mulled over the thought, Johnny glanced up at you as he finished setting out food. He gave you a slight grin and suddenly some of the weight in your chest lifted.

~~

“You’re here again?” Johnny walked into the living room with his laptop tucked under his arm. The grin on his lips said that he was teasing, but there was a look in his eyes that held something else. Something you didn’t want to find the meaning of. 

You threw your legs over Jungwoo’s lap and spread out across the soft grey couch, “I live here now.” 

“Rent’s due on the 15th,” Jungwoo quipped, not looking up from his notebook. You stuck your tongue out at him while Johnny laughed, motioning for you to sit up.  

He sat down letting himself bounce on the sofa a few times before opening his laptop. You leaned over to see the pictures that were open in his photoshop app. The one he was working on, a black and white photo of Taeyong, you recognized as one he had taken back at the quad several weeks ago.

“It looks good,” you comment. He grins at you as he makes a few more adjustments. You watched for a few more moments before leaning forward and going back to the mock finance report you had been working on. 

Soft music drifted up from the speaker Jungwoo had hooked up and the tapping on keyboards were all that accompanied it. You couldn’t help but feel at peace sitting in their apartment. The quiet ambiance gave the feel of a warm coffeehouse without the paranoia of some stranger watching what you are working on. Jungwoo stood up and mentioned going to his room for a virtual tutoring session. You nodded to him and Johnny sent him a ‘good luck, dude’ before the apartment was submerged back into near silence.

Jaehyun steamrolled into the living room, Lila following close behind him, “Johnny, I need help.” He yelped sitting down in the love seat adjacent to the couch. “Oh good, Y/n, you’re here too!” 

“What’s up Jaehyun,” you lifted your laptop off yourself and down onto the coffee table. 

He rolled his eyes as he glared at the screen, “My professor is a hard ass and I can’t seem to do anything right in this class. He says that my papers need serious help and I am just frustrated with all of this at this point. Would you guys look at them and help me out?”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and Lila rubbed his back lightly. You and Johnny shared a look before nodding at the boy who looked two seconds away from crying. “Thank you,” he cheered, pulling a thick stack of paper from his backpack. “I seriously owe you guys.” You went to wave him off as he shot up from his seat, “I know. I’m gonna go get some food to cook for us.” He grabbed Lila’s hand and she waved as he dragged her out of the apartment. 

“Okay,” you drug out the word as you raised your eyebrow at Johnny. “Well, why don’t you go ahead and read through it first and make some edits and I’ll look at it afterwards and then we can talk about other changes that need to be made. Johnny nodded, pulling out a red pen in a flourish. You shook your head at the grin he sent your way. He gave a light laugh before he brought the paper up and started to read through it.

Not fifteen minutes later, Johnny gave you a light nudge before holding the paper and pen out to you. You grabbed both calmly starting at the first page. As you read through, you caught sight of a few of Johnny’s edits. You were surprised to see some of the comments on things such as writing style and sentence structures were similar to ones you would have made. 

The pen clicked as you set the paper down in front of both you and Johnny. “Well, he’s got a good start. It’s really not bad.”

Johnny nodded, glancing through the paper again. He pointed to the pen as he saw another error to fix, “His professor is being pretty hard on him. This paper has a lot of good content.” 

You hummed in agreement, “I was surprised to see some of your comments. Based on what I remember from high school your writing was nothing like this. I mean I know it’s been three years, but I didn’t expect it to change so much.” You heard the door click and Jaehyun announced they were back and going to start cooking what they bought. 

“I’m sure I mentioned it, but in high school our works were put through so many hands that by the time it was published it didn’t really feel like our own work,” Johnny shrugged as he circled a sentence with his red pen. “They changed so much stuff or arranged for them to say what they wanted. We didn’t even know what it was going to say until it was published.”

You swallowed, your voice came out soft and whispered, “Even the-” Eyes glanced up catching yours and your voice halted. 

“Especially that one,” he spoke quickly, as if he couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the sentence fall from your lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

His eyes dropped and his voice tightened, “I tried. If you remember, you didn’t let me talk and smashed food on my clothes.

You ignored him, too many questions running around your head, but there was one that you had to ask, “Which part was yours?”

“The fact that you have to ask me makes me think you don’t believe me or you actually think I would write something like that,” Johnny shook his head, disbelief coating every word.

“Just,” his head jerked to you as your hand cupped his face. “Please, tell me.” 

He sighed, “Y/n, I’m sure you know that- well that the time you should have- in high school I really-” he swallowed hard. His eyes searched yours for answers from the past. Answers you wouldn;t let him have. He tugged your hands off his face and lightly held them in his own. He took a deep breath, “Y/n, I adored you. I don’t know how you could have missed that. You didn't, did you? Everything I put in that paper in high school was to make you the star. I wanted everyone to see you in the same light I did. So, why would I ever think about putting that article out. Kun, he was the editor and he changed it, changed my words. Where are you going?” Johnny lunged for you as you shot up from the couch. Your legs shook as you tried to step away from him. 

“I spent years Johnny, years, hating you. Thinking that you-” You panicked laced voice was heavy with tears. “I knew I couldn’t and then you- Kun - did this and I used it as an excuse. A way to tell myself that-” you tugged your wrist from his grasp. “I have to go. I can’t. I need some air. I’m so sorry.” You turned racing through the kitchen. Footsteps sounded behind you. Jaehyun and Lila looked up, shocked, as you passed them by the front door. Johnny’s fingers brushed your hand as you passed under the doorway. “I can’t do this. Now I’m so sorry.” You closed the door tightly. You were running away, but what else could you do? Johnny had just spun your perspective of him off axis.  It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t do this to you, not when your world was already so off kilter. 

You pushed thoughts of Johnny out of your head as you raced down streets and sidewalks. Your legs carried you far away from your apartment and down to the creek that was at least 45 minutes away. You drew in deep breaths as the water in front of you stopped your run.

“Okay,” Lila stopped behind you just minutes later. “I’m going to have to start training with you.” She bent over pressing her hands to her knees for a few breaths. 

You gave her a tight smile, “You didn’t have to follow me.”

She shrugged sitting down on a large rock by the bank, “I know, but you left in such a hurry. You looked like you were about to pass out. Still kinda do.” She patted the smooth surface next to her, “Sit.”

You leaned back letting yourself lay out across the rock. Bright beams of light broke through tree branches coming to shine down on the two of you. You squinted using your hand to cover your eyes, “Are you going to know what all of that was about?”

Lila shook her head, “If you want to tell me, you can, but I won’t make you.” She looked down at you as she leaned back on her hands. 

You gave a light hum glancing at her from under your cupped hand. “What would you do?” She threw you a slightly confused look, “If someone you thought you had figured out, someone you had a certain perception of, turned out to be different than that picture.”

She sat silent, considering your words, “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve known Jaehyun my entire life and it seems like all of my close friends are pretty transparent with me.” You rolled your eyes lightly. She wasn’t being helpful. In fact, she was making matters worse, “but I think that, if it was one of them, Jaehyun or my friends, I would have reacted the same way.  It’s better for you to be out here, clearing your head figuring things out, rather than trying to respond while the world is crumbling.”

With that comment the two of you were plunged back into silence. The sound of breathing and the creek was the only thing to reach your ears. The sun warmed you as the two of you laid on the rock. You had dozed off when you heard the crunching of gravel and a hand shaking your shoulder. Lila leaned over you as you blinked slowly at her. “Sorry to wake you,” her voice came out softly. “Jaehyun’s here to pick us up. He said that you were needed back at the complex.” 

“I really don’t think I can face Johnny yet,” you whispered back.

She shook her head, “I don’t think this is about Johnny.”

You furrowed your eyebrows but followed her up to the small red pickup Jaehyun drove. He gave you a tight smile as you slid in the back seat, “Sorry.” His voice held a careful tone, one that said he didn’t know how to act. You returned the tight smile and he sped towards the apartment. You weren’t sure how long it took you guys to get back, but the orange hue of the sun allowed you to watch the front door of your apartment come into view. The figure of someone standing outside your apartment made you hesitant to approach. Jaehyun walked next to you as you stepped into the eyesight of the man. He looked back with a concerned look on your face as you breathed out a tight, “Dad?”

~~

taglist:  @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen @lanadreamie @michplusb @beyond-gethsemane @jaxminskale @nanascupid @sadgirlroo

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley III

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

In the language of flowers, yellow lilies are said to represent both deception (perhaps tied to the notion of concealment) and graciousness.

Release Date: 05/25/20 @ 7 pm

previously ~ next

        Yoongi shook his head, black fringe swaying slightly. “That’s ridiculous. You’re staying with us.”

        “Absolutely not!”

        The refusal was out of her mouth before she'd even thought about it. Both men flinched at her rejection but didn't look surprised. YN however was beginning to be upset, of course they would try to take advantage of the situation. I shouldn’t have expected any different. The tension was beginning to rise between the two and YN suddenly remembered that Yoongi liked to provoke people. Suddenly Jimin raised his hands as if to show no ill will, "We don't mean it like that." His hands raked through his perfectly styled hair, "It's just that you're our mate. Legally now too."

           “It wouldn’t look right. Plus it would be dangerous.” Yoongi finished for him, leaning forward and uncrossing his arms. He tentatively reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. It was warm and softer than YN would’ve imagined, she didn’t remove it and she couldn’t quite understand why. Maybe because it was meant to comfort her and it had been a long time since YN had been comforted. She almost found herself getting lost in its warmth until she reminded herself of who she was with and stopped herself. Sensing her discomfort the betas rushed to speak again. “We have this small cottage in the back, it’s newly refurbished and has plumping and everything. All it would need is a bed.”

           “I don’t know if I would feel comfortable living with all seven of you...it’s a lot.”

           Yoongi sighed, “We understand, though it isn’t like you have much of a choice. No place will take a mated omega. The law won’t permit it. Only...” He didn’t have to finish for her to know what he meant.

           Only the boarding house.

           YN looked up at the men and spoke as clearly as she could, "I'm not your mate. I'm not your omega," she saw how every word was spoken physically deflated them. "However, thank you for helping me. It's only temporary until I find another solution." Something flashed quickly in both men's eyes, but it was far too fast for YN to comprehend what it was. They only smiled and nodded with jovial excitement. Jimin began to talk about furniture that would be added while Yoongi pulled out his phone and seemed to text someone. She realized her hand was still under his and tried to retrieve it, Yoongi didn't allow her too. Before YN could say anything he gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it. Putting his left hand into his jacket’s pocket.

           “So it’s set. We’ll be by later to pick up your things .”

           YN nodded feeling a numbness spreading throughout her body, as she finished her tea and placed the cup down. Her eyes met theirs, dark empty pools, and she wondered if their inner scale was tipped. Were they more animal than human? Beasts? YN would soon find out.

            “Swear you’ll be okay?” Rosé asked, her fingers intertwined into YN’s. They swung back and forth, their arms shaking slightly. The air was silent, save for the things left unsaid.

             "I'm sure. I'll be safe. They won't hurt me." The smile hurt YN, but she forced her lips to spread open for her best friend's sake. She couldn't possibly leave Rosé out for the wolves, even if it meant she would be jumping right into their den.  

           “Don’t forget to text me. Oh, and call me every night.”

YN rolled her eyes but laughed. "Yes, mom. I'll make sure to write you a letter every day."

           “For a year?”

        The two girls giggled and embraced as YN willed herself to stick to her word. Just as she was beginning to doubt herself, someone knocked on the door. When the door opened, it was Yoongi and Jimin again; both with smiles on their faces - ones a little too big to be done out of politeness. They stayed by the door, if they entered their scents would linger and that wouldn't look good on Rosé. Betas did have a scent, but unless they were purposefully trying to emit it, only other betas would sense it. "Are you ready to go?" Jimin spoke after he had waved at Rosé. YN nodded, grabbing her bags resting by the door and handing them off to the two waiting betas. Feeling like it would be a while until YN saw her again, she turned around and gave Rosé one last hug. Rosé leaned deep into their embrace and whispered into YN's ear, "If anything happens. Call me, I'll be there immediately."  

           Tears almost welled up in YN’s eyes but she fought them back, merely giving her a reassuring squeeze before walking out and closing the door.

           Wow, what a fucking house. YN's jaw slackened at the sight of it, though her parents were well off it hadn't compared to this. Then again, combining the wealth of seven of the richest families in Seoul was bound to bear its fruits. Judging by the smirk on the two men's faces, they enjoyed her reaction. So, she did her best to school it immediately. There hadn't been any words exchanged by the three of them in the car, thankfully, and YN hoped it would remain that way. Instead of taking her to the front entrance, Yoongi and Jimin guided her to the side of the house. It once they reached the backyard that her breath was truly taken away.  

           The area was huge with a swimming pool, patio area, and botanical garden. However, it was the tiny home in the back with a garden of lilies that called to her. “It’s like the one at school.” Was the first thing she noted. It wasn’t as large, but it seemed to have similar flowers and evoke the same feeling.

           “Do you like it?” Yoongi asked, looking at her from his peripheral.

           “I love it.” There was no hesitance in her words, they were sincere.

They guided her to the tiny house; which the closer she got wasn't so tiny at all. It was one floor with a large bed, a television mounted on the wall, a small closet, a kitchenette, and a bathroom. There was even a small bookcase filled with familiar books: they had been the assigned reading when she was in school. Probably filled with annotations and other such things. YN wished she still had her copies, but she had donated all but her favorites to school when she graduated.

           Jimin cleared his throat, “Sorry the closet isn’t bigger, but we can expand it later.” YN shook her head, “No, that’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Yoongi placed his hand on her shoulder, “Dinner will be served in about an hour. You can meet everyone then.” Meet them again. YN felt her throat dry up, she wasn’t sure about how she felt being a room with all seven of them just yet. She had wanted to delay the inevitable, but considering she was staying in their home - it was the least she could do.

           “Sure.”

The two of them seemed pleased at her lack of resistance. Jimin smiled, "Go get cleaned up and we'll come to pick you up when it's time." YN felt it was more of a command, then a suggestion but she didn't care. Once the two of them left, she jumped on the bed and decided to take a small nap. The pillow smelled fresh and clean, only lulling her faster into sleep.

       "I'm very sorry for what's occurred to you, YN. But I want you to know it isn't your fault and that we are here to help." Officer Kim sent a comforting smile, trying to ease YN's nerves. YN remained silent, her grip on the blue blanket thrown around her shoulders was so strong her fingers were white. The officer sighed, tilting her head slightly to send a look to the people behind the screen. When she looked back at YN, all she saw was the teenager's glassy widened eyes. It had been an accident, a terrible one, but teenagers tended to be reckless. If the gruesome bite on YN's neck was anything to show for it.  

           “Do you want to press charges?”

           YN shook her head, caving in on herself even more. Jungkook’s sorry wails still echoed in her head. It didn't matter, what's done is done. YN looked up to meet the officer Kim's warm golden eyes. Her lips parted and she could see the anticipation building up in the cop's face only for there to be a disappointment once YN actually spoke.

           “I just want to go home.”

           Loud knocking tore her away from her dreams, as she saw a shadow-like figure standing outside the doors.

         The door opened slowly, only once he'd stepped in could YN recognize him. "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I didn't know you were asleep." Kim Taehyung had probably undergone the most significant change out of all of them: transforming from a lanky teen to an able man. YN didn't realize she had been gaping at him so openly until he smirked. "Um, no don't worry." She scrambled to get off the bed and smooth down her clothes, getting rid of any creases her short sleep might have caused.  Taehyung tilted his head, his eyes roaming her body until they landed on her poorly concealed mark. YN flinched when he stepped forward, but instead of grabbing her Taehyung held out his hand.

           “Dinner is served and it’ll get cold if we wait any longer.”

            As attractive as he was, truthfully they all were, and as much as something inside her willed her to grab his hand - YN refused. Walking past him and outside the double doors to the garden of lilies. The sun had long set and now the half-moon shined brightly in the night sky. Casting a beautiful glow on the garden, the lilies, and YN herself. Perhaps, that is why it took Taehyung such a long time to step outside her room, the man still in the shadows. He was simply basking in her glory. Or perhaps, he was trying to control his rage at his mate's reaction in a way that would frighten the already tense YN.

           When he stepped out a charlatan smile was present on his features, “Let’s go then.” Together the two of them walked side by side until they reached the house. Faintly YN could hear the sound of jazz music and muffled voices, goosebumps rose on her arms as her stomach twisted and turned. Here we go. YN’s hands balled into fists as she dug her nails into her skin, trying to remain calm despite the voices growing louder and louder. Eventually, she could pick on the scent of one...two...four alphas and hear the soft bell-like nature of Jimin’s laugh. They were all here. Now’s the time.

          The conversations began to die down and YN knew it was because they sensed her. She prayed to whatever god's existed that everything would go well. They turned a corner and YN suddenly saw them. All seven of them were wearing what could be deemed business casual attire. They were all littered across the room, but all seemed to be in a circle surrounding a red velvet chesterfield where the lead alpha was seated. His dark hair combed back, a white button-down, and tight black jeans. One by one they all turned to face her, but he was last. His warm chocolate eyes lingering on the glass of wine in his hand before they slowly traveled to meet hers.

           YN finally realized what situation she was in. A prey in a predator's territory and sadly, she'd already been branded. She remained frozen on the spot, unable to look away from the alpha's eyes, she didn't know if it was courage or brazen recklessness. Then he smiled, a warm charming smile that reminded her of the early days. When the two would speak in hushed whispers and aid each other in assignments and tests. Times when YN looked at him with admiration, care, and maybe a tiny bit of love. She did have a small crush on him back in those days, nothing to act upon since she knew he was destined but enough to make her feel happy to be around him.

           He stood up and crossed the room, a steady stride which was a blend of natural yet calculated. As if he was measuring how close he could get without scaring her, it was when he was two feet away that YN slightly stepped back. The action caused him to stop, as he finally spoke.

           “Welcome. It’s been a while.”

Soon they all crowded around her offering kind smiles. Their scents were strangely muted now, YN guessed that was being done on purpose in order not to frighten her - or send her into a pseudo-heat. Not that it would occur considering the suppressants she was on. Conversations started back up again, but YN didn't participate in any. She noticed Jungkook was strangely quiet too but didn't pay him much attention for fear he might get the wrong idea. It was a couple of minutes later that a worker announced the food was served, YN went to follow him but someone tugged at her hand pulling her back.

           “Mind if we have a chat?” Namjoon asked, a hint of mirth in his smile.

           "Sure," YN noted how most of them walked away, Seokjin was the only one who remained but stayed near the threshold.  

           “Wow, you’ve changed. Grown, I mean.” His awkwardness caused a slight chuckle to escape YN’s lips. “Says the person who is now seven feet tall.” At that his smile grew. The glass of wine in his hand was placed on a top nearby and now that his hands were empty, Namjoon took a hold of hers. His large warm hands cradling hers, as his thumbs ran soothingly across her knuckles. “How do you feel?” YN didn’t know why she was so at ease around Namjoon, maybe because they’d known each other before everything happened. He had demonstrated that he was a good person, who had simply made a mistake. As opposed to the other’s who she only knew vaguely and had been forced to get to know because of what happened.

           “Fine. Good.” YN smiled gently, her heart didn’t race as it did before but she felt comfortable around Namjoon in a way she didn’t around the others. It might’ve been that he was the leader: the one who could make everyone fall in line at his command. It might’ve been that she trusted him. YN didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. “Thank you for letting me stay.” She spoke to both him and Seokjin who straightened up.

           “It’s no problem, YN. Your welcome as long as you’d like.” Seokjin’s words were polite and YN was thankful he didn’t mention anything about mates. In fact, she hoped the whole conversation would be avoided the entire evening.

           Namjoon drew her attention back to him, “What’s ours is yours. Whatever you need, don't be afraid to tell us.” Before YN could say anything, he pulled her towards the exit. “Come. Everyone is waiting for us.” He sent her a flirty wink before Seokjin joined them, walking on her other side.

            “So YN, what did you study?” Hoseok wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin.

           “Sociology.”

           “Sounds interesting. Did you like it?”

           “Yeah, it was interesting.” YN wasn’t the most social person, not to mention she found it difficult to speak when all eyes were on her.

           “Did you get the flowers we sent for your graduation?” Taehyung asked, beside her. He was less intimidating in the warm yellow lighting of the dining room. Ah the flowers. Her parents had delivered the flowers when they went to visit and though YN had been all smiles, she’d thrown them in the trash the second she’d gotten back home.

           “Yes, they were lovely. Thank you.”

           It all seemed too perfect, too surreal, nothing bad had occurred yet and it had YN on the edge of her seat. This wasn’t how she was expecting the night to go at all. It had been years since the incident and though YN was aware that people could change, they seemed so different. People are different during heats. It’s more animal instinct than anything. That may be true, but it felt like she was at a reunion rather than a dinner with her supposed ‘mates.’ It seems the jovial atmosphere was beginning to be too much for someone else because Jungkook finally broke.

           “Aren’t we going to talk about it?!” His hands slammed down against the table, causing everyone to turn and look at him. Jungkook was near the end of the table, right next to Seokjin which faced Namjoon at the head. Talk about what? It seemed his question was more intended for his pack members than for her, but it still left YN curious. Seokjin who seemed unfazed continued cutting his meat, “Kookie, stop it.” This seemed to only anger the youngest more.

           “No, we agreed -” Just as Jungkook was standing up, Hoseok pulled him back down to his chair. Oh no. Alpha’s butting heads was never a good sign. She might’ve assumed this was normal but seeing how tense Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin were this was clearly unusual. The sudden growl that Jungkook let out was all the proof she needed.

           Adrenaline began to pump through her blood, as her instincts were about to kick in. If there was going to be a fight, she wanted no part in it. It was then that Taehyung and Jimin both placed their hands on her knees, keeping her still.

           “Calm down, Jungkook. Stop being a brat.” Seokjin scolded him once more, his jaw now locked. The young alpha wasn’t listening, didn’t care to. Suddenly all his attention zeroed in on YN as he spoke. “We have to complete the mating bond.” Anxiety began to trickle into YN’s mind and body. No. no. no. no.

           “No.” YN pushed the chair away from the table and stood ready to walk out and leave the house. She should have known better than to trust them. This had been their plan all along, to get her into a situation where she couldn’t escape. As she passed by Namjoon his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, tugging her towards him. The lead alpha had remained silent during the whole ordeal, as YN looked at him with irritation. Namjoon spoke in a calm mellow tone, “Down.” Just like that Jungkook dropped to his knees and began to cry.

           “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” Now YN was even more terrified. What the fuck is going on.

    Rosé: Hey, how’d your first day go?

    YN: Terrible, I don’t even want to talk about it.

     Rosé: Did something bad happen? Did they do something to you?

     Rosé: Are you okay?

     YN: I’m okay. Things are just really strange here. I don’t know how to describe it.

     YN: It's like everyone's on edge, but they're pretending they aren't.

     Rosé: I mean isn’t that kinda normal. You are their mate and you did reject them, so it makes sense.

      Rosé: You never did tell me why you rejected them though.

      YN: It’s a long story and I’m tired. Ttyl. Night.

      Rosé: Good night.

Hope you enjoyed the story. Tag list is in the comments.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Contending the Flame VI

Author’s Note: Happy Holiday season everyone! Hopefully you are having a better time than I am currently with work and new lockdown restrictions where I live. I already have the next two chapters written, so I plan to upload each within a week of one another. Thanks as always for being awesome!

Vikings Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2234

Warnings: Servant dynamic, language.

The coming weeks had slowed as the provisions for the Heathen army continued to dwindle. As the weather closed in around them, so too did the Saxons. Their plight to negotiate for land had gone unheeded by Ivar. Well, it was Ubbe's plan but Hvitserk had gone along with it. Lately, it seemed he was being pulled back and forth between his brothers, his only use being the mediator. He wasn't sure which brother to follow, preferring it better when they all worked in tandem. Right now it was best for him to stay out of their way. 

Ivar had returned to how he had been before, after the misfortune with Margrethe. He was terse with the thralls, and he shunned any prolonged company with women. There were moments, either when he was sitting at a table or alone in a corner, a strange look would pass over his face. Hvitserk was sure he was the only one to notice, but he didn't let on about it. 

If Ivar wondered about the nun, he never said as such, and Audhild had reported that he hadn't come around inquiring about you. On the surface, it seemed whatever had started between you was over, but Hvitserk didn't think so. You were two boats passing in the night, waiting for the other's signal.

Hvitserk had taken it upon himself to keep watch of the nun. He had told Ubbe from the start not to get involved, but now he had thrown himself in headfirst. You no longer seemed to be a danger to yourself, and Audhild had said that you thrived as a healer, though you spoke very few words. It got Hvitserk curious, and he set out to find you.

Until the battle against the Saxons would start, the healers were not so occupied. Audhild had told him where you could be found. It was a courtyard that was led in by an archway, with bushes of purple flowers. At its heart was a statue of a man who Hvitserk wondered about. Christians had these carved monuments of people everywhere. What great deeds had they accomplished that granted them the honor of being captured in stone?

He quit his thoughts as he spotted the nun hunched over by a bed of flowers. It struck him then that he didn't know your name, and the few words he picked up in English would not get him far

"Mary...erm Sister," He called, trying to recall what you had said when you were first claimed by Ivar.

You stood with abruptness from being startled, your guard up as you recognized him. Your sheared hair was now covered in a sage green scarf, twisted and wrapped not unlike the Sami people. Hvitserk could see a black and blue bruise around your left eye, about the size of a fist. "Sister Mary Catharine, and you don't have to call me that."

He was glad you had answered in his language. Though some of your pronunciation was wrong, they would get by well enough on the gist of things. "Why not?"

"I don't think I am a nun anymore, not in the eyes of God. Just Catharine will do."

As Hvitserk took a step forward, you shifted back. The mistrust hung heavy between you both, and he realized he'd have to go slow in order to gain your favor. He stood firm where he was. "What happened there?"

You gingerly touched the mark on your face he had indicated to, a sad smile forming. "I'm not the discarded whore of the crippled bastard, even if some of your men think so. When one took out his cock and tried to relieve himself on me, I fought back."

Hvitserk was disappointed to hear what had happened, though such behavior was unsurprising. His heart sunk for his brother as well. Some of the men still only thought of Ivar as the lesser son of Ragnar, even after he had proven to be a sharp mind with a fierce heart. 

"Do you know who he was?"

The nun shook her head. "No, and I have not seen him again. At least I still have the Lord's mercy."

You made a crossing gesture over your heart that Hvitserk did not understand. He spotted the cloth bandage on your wrist as well. "How's that healing?"

"It's fine," You said as you folded your arms behind your back. "Why does it matter? He didn't send you here, did he?"

The white look of terror on your face was hard to miss. You looked like a hare caught up in a trap. Hvitserk tried to think about the best way to ask his questions in order to get the answers he needed. "My little brother doesn't command me. I just wanted to know why you did it."

"I wanted to spare myself from a worse fate," You said, turning your back to him while you felt at the petals of the flowers. "I didn't want to suffer like the priest."

Hvitserk recalled what an imposing figure Ivar had cut hovering above the Christian man as he poured molten gold down his gullet. "Ivar told you about that?"

"No." You gazed over your shoulder a moment before your eyes flickered down. "I knew he had done something horrible, but it was another slave who told me. She said I should be careful, and that your brother hates all Christians."

Hvitserk took a step towards you without thinking and grabbed you by the shoulders. "What slave?"

"I don't know," You gasped while breaking out of his hold. "She came to clean the room one day. It was the first time I had spoken to anyone else besides Ivar."

"Why would she need to tend to his room when he had you?"

You frowned, seeming to forget your previous grievances for his closeness as you leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

Hvitserk knew from an early age that he was not exceptional. Ubbe is a strong swordsman and scout, Sigurd was musically inclined, and Ivar is a cunning strategist. At best he could survive raids and follow a battle plan, achievements that any of his brothers could do better. But none of them had his gut instincts, and his stomach was wrought with the feeling that a trickster had snuck their way into the camp.

"It's nothing," He said eventually, though not with enough conviction for the nun's liking.

"I don't believe you."

The earnest look on your face would have annoyed him more if not for how undisguised your naivete was. Maybe that was what drew Ivar in.

Hvitserk prepared to say more but was interrupted by a voice calling over his shoulder.

"Brother," Ivar called, followed by the indistinguishable sound of metal steps plodding the ground.

Hvitserk turned, bracing for whatever force Ivar would throw at him. If he was surprised to see the nun, he didn't let on, instead, his face sat stoically as he maneuvered forward with assurance. He was too young to look so miserable. 

Ubbe was with him, peering at the girl who had taken refuge from prying eyes behind Hvitserk's back. His was a face easier to read, both tense and curious at the discovery. Hvitserk knew he would be answering questions later.

"She won't sleep with you brother," Ivar inserted with a cold chuckle. "She's chaste."

Hvitserk scowled at Ivar's attempt to maim with petty insults. "That's not what this is. Audhild sent Catherine to tend to an old injury I sustained from my raid with Bjorn," He lied.

"Catherine," Ubbe said. "Is that her name?"

"No, her name is Ólaug," Ivar interrupted before Hvitserk could speak. "Isn't it, Bride of Christ?"

You refused to rise to his idle taunts. You were as still as the Saxon statue, and your eyes never left Hvitserk's back. 

"I don't know if it's really her name, but it's as she told me. Now what do you want, Ivar?"

"We are leading this army together, yes?" Though it didn't sound as if he meant that. "The Saxons prepare to attack at dawn, and we need you before going over our plan of countermeasures."

"Right," Hvitserk mumbled, turning back to the nun while nearly knocking you back because of how close you stood beside him. "Audhild will be expecting your return. You should go."

Your eyes grew wide with gratitude and you gave a curt nod. You made certain to keep an arm's breadth away from Ivar as you passed, taking the route around Ubbe instead. Ivar watched you leave over his shoulder, his face filling with scorn as his attention snapped back to Hvitserk. 

"What happened to her face?"

"She's a thrall, Ivar. When they disobey, they are punished." His blunt remark had the desired response, as he noticed Ivar's jaw stiffen and grind back and forth. "Forget that for a moment, I think we have a worse problem. There's a spy in our camp working against you little brother."

"What are you talking about?" Ivar sneered, adjusting his stance as his crutch struck the ground.

"I know why she tried to end her life. Another slave told her about what you did to that priest. She didn't let on about it, but I think it was implied to her that she would suffer the same fate, or worse by your hand."

"But I would not have done anything to her," Ivar tried to defend, his face falling into guilt.

"It's not like she would know that, though," said Ubbe. "She's a nun, and sees us as little more than rapists and murderers."

"I was kind to her," Ivar huffed, struggling away from them towards the same flower bush the nun had been eyeing. He pulled on a branch, bringing the blooms close enough to smell.

Hvitserk shared a discreet look with Ubbe, communicating the shared thought of Ivar's favor for his former thrall. "Whoever spoke to her probably knew that, and was trying to get her away from you."

"They probably wanted to catch you alone," Ubbe added. "Your life could be in danger."

Ivar scoffed, releasing the branch back with a snap. He pivoted towards them, his movements were aggressive. "I don't have time to worry about one spy. The Gods would never let me die without honor, alone and asleep without renown. Tomorrow we fight the Saxons, and face victory."

Turning back towards the archway of the garden, he began down the same path the nun had departed prior. His stance was rigid, and his grip tight on the crutches. Hvitserk still held his breath on habit, afraid to watch Ivar stumble knowing that he couldn't offer to help him back up.

"Where are you going, Ivar?" Ubbe called.

"To address the army, and I expect you both to join me," He said, never stopping on his way out to even look at them.

When they were alone, Hvitserk could feel Ubbe eyeing him before even turning his way. "What?"

Ubbe chuckled, "You told me not to get involved, yet here you are jumping in headfirst."

"I'm worried. Ivar has been distracted since giving her away to Audhild, and we need him thinking straight if we're going to beat the Saxons together."

"We should have known Ivar would fall in love with the first woman to show him kindness," said Ubbe, looking pensive at the statue that had transfixed Hvitserk earlier.

"You think he loves her?" Hvitserk exclaimed in surprise.

"Well, he's at least fond of her, but with Ivar, it's difficult to tell." Ubbe ran a hand over his face as if to wipe away the stress he was feeling. “What really happened to her face?”

“One of our men was not kind to her. Ivar still does not hold the favor of every warrior in the army, and she is at risk as a result of that. I’ll tell Audhild to keep a closer eye from here on out.”

Ubbe nodded in agreement. “We’ll continue to try when we can as well, but I don’t know what will happen once we finish here. I don’t think Ivar has plans on remaining in York much longer.”

“I know,” Hvitserk said, feeling resentment towards Ivar for all of the misery he was constantly dragging them into. Even if they were to return to Kattegat next, Hvitserk knew it would be to war with Lagertha and Bjorn. He loved Ivar and would follow him to the four corners of the world, but not at the cost of their family and their father’s legacy.

It felt like they were using you as a buffer for their little brother’s madness, but in the days that Ivar had kept you, he had been more agreeable and even happy. Hvitserk held respect for you even if he hated your Christian God, but if it was your freedom measured against the success of their army, then he would have no trouble giving you back to Ivar in chains. Peace in the time of the sons of Ragnar was more important than one nun. 

"I hope you know what you're doing, getting involved, brother," said Ubbe, disrupting his train of thought.

Hvitserk approached his older brother and gave him a clap on the shoulder. "Of course I don't, that's why I have you. Now come, let's go speak to our army before Ivar gets any more ideas about leading without us."

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[defenderrosetyler]

A Prince and His Swan Chapter 3

The Time has come for chapter 3! Thank you to @flamencodiva​ for helping Beta as usual; There is a small warning in here is a character death, minor language, things like that.  WC:  2465 There is also a companion series with this by flamencodiva as well, The Frog Prince which can be found HERE Storybrooke “Good Morning Samuel.” Mr. Gold says, not looking up from his work as the bell above the door chimed, signaling a person's entrance into his store. “Gold,” Sam says, letting out a huff of annoyance. If Gold was going to question him the same as Henry was about his mood? This wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit. Mr. Gold, being the wealthiest man in town, knew almost everything. Including the town gossip.

“Judging by the sound of your mood, it's safe to say you and Y/N had another argument this morning, didn't you?” He says, dark brown eyes looking at the younger Winchester brother. “How are your parents, by the way? Your relationship with Ruby?” “Ruby is none of your concern.” Sam snapped. “Oh, come now, is that any way to talk to a man who helped you and your family?” He says, giving his response in a calm, low tone .”I could go to Rowena and be in charge of all of those finances?” Mr. Gold took a step closer to Sam, giving him a slight glare, “After all, it was originally my contract you destroyed, Boy. But I can make sure to take it back and have you start at square one all over again.” Sam held up his hands, not wanting to argue with the man, “Is it just me, or was the clocktower moving this morning?”

This made Gold raise a confused brow at Sam. This was not the first time he’d heard this rumor, especially with the talk of the new person that had arrived in town, even staying at Granny’s B and B. The bell rang a second time that morning, sounding another patron entering the shop's entryway.

“Good Morning, gentleman.” Sheriff Graham says from the doorway, his hands in his pockets. Cleaning his throat, attempting to diffuse the tension between the two lawyers in the room. 

“Good Morning, Graham.” “Sheriff.” Both men, who seemed to be in a standoff, greeted the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Refusing to turn to look at him. “Would you gentleman be interested in a job? I have a client who needs a lawyer, and you two are the only ones I know.”

 “Well, Samuel, I think this makes for an interesting deal between us. Let's put that brain of yours to the test. I want to see how well you're able to keep our newest capture in her cell. If you can keep her behind bars, I’ll give you a raise in your salary. This would allow you to pay back Rowena a lot sooner and allow you to save up for any possible future you and Miss Ruby may have.” Sam gave him a look, waiting for the rebuttal of what would happen when he ends up losing. Which Sam had no intention of losing. He wanted to show up Gold. Stand up to him. “If I end up winning and our new friend is freed from her cage?” he says, a wicked look in his eye. “I’ll have you work double shifts here, receiving the same amount of pay. Possibly less, I haven’t fully decided yet.” Sam blinks as he lets his words echo in his ears.  Thrusting out his hand for Gold to take, a smirk on his face, “Done.”

Enchanted Forest

“Samuel! We weren’t expecting to see you.” Charming says, greeting his friend from the throne room of his castle. It was full of guests coming to see the newly wedded couple. Then again, the arrival of a royal baby was cause for celebration. Sam smiled, hugging Charming. 

“Congratulations on the new arrival on the way.” He smiled, glancing over to see Snow approaching them slowly. “Samuel,” Snow White greeted, making her way towards him to envelope him in a tight hug. “We heard about Odette. Have you found anything?” “I don’t think you’d believe me,” Sam sighed, looking at his friends.  “I think I know of someone we can talk to that may be able to help you out,” Charming says, looking over at his wife, who also nods, having come to the same idea as her husband.

The Blue Fairy.

Sam watched as the Fairy approached, feeling wary of her. Dean had mentioned Amaya had been cursed by a fairy, but if Snow and Charming said that she was someone they trusted, he could trust her, couldn’t he?

“Nice to meet you,” Sam says, remembering his manners. Telling the Fairy about Odette and her curse.

 “Oh, I know all about her curse, sweet one,” She says sweetly to him. This made Sam blink. Had he told her all of this for nothing? The Fairy let out a sigh. “As much as I’d like to offer my assistance, Rowena’s curse is pretty straightforward in how to break it.”

“Paid in blood,” Sam scoffed, “Charming, I’m not about to let anyone die because of someone I love!” He says, angry at the situation. He wasn’t about to lose Odette. This wasn’t going to end in bloodshed. The translation echoed in his ears, making Sam feel anxious. ‘never shall she be with the ones she loves, until true loves confession be spoken with blood.’ Feeling frustrated, Sam left the throne room, heading to the dungeons. Sam knew that Snow and Charming had Rumplestilskin in their dungeons. Maybe he could help him break the curse from Rowena or at least offer some sound advice. Then again, the man was dark and evil. “No...No, this is foolish,” Sam muttered under his breath. “Nothing is foolish, dearie,” Rumple said from his cell. “Especially if it keeps that little swan of yours safe.” “You don’t get to talk about Odette as if you know her!” Sam snapped, walking up to the bars of his cell. Face red with anger, chest rising and falling in rage. “Who am I kidding? You're just a waste of my time. Arguing with you isn't gonna help me save Odette.” Rumples' maniacal laugh echoed in the dungeons as Sam made his way back to his own castle. There was a ball to prepare for.

Storybrooke “What do you mean you backed out of the challenge?!” Ruby snapped as she looked over at her fiancé. She had been pacing in their living room ever since Sam returned later from home than usual. As Sam sat down, telling her the events of the afternoon, she was growing angrier and angrier. “I mean exactly that, Ruby!” Sam snapped, feeling frustrated and tired of her questioning his every move. His eyes filled with rage, glaring at her.  “I don’t care about you anymore!” He says, voice rising as he grew angrier. “If you don’t like my work ethic, then there’s the door.” Ruby blinked, hearing Sam’s sudden outburst. He’d never raised his voice like this to her before. What was coming over him? Sam sighed as he ran a hand over his face. He had to clear his head. Maybe some coffee and sleep would be best for him. The following day, Ruby’s things were all packed, making it clear she was leaving. Sam headed over to the jail with a resounded sigh to say good morning to Graham and check in on things there. Emma Swan was causing quite the gossip around town. What was so special about her anyway? Seeing Emma released from the prison made Sam smile a little. Knowing if he’d kept his bet with Gold, he would have lost. As he made his way over to his office, a voice calling his name caught his attention. “Henry? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Sam scolds him gently, arms crossed against his chest. Henry looked slightly embarrassed. “I wanted to see if you could teach me horseback riding.” Sam raised his eyebrows at the request. “It's just-” “Henry, for the tenth time, I am not a prince in that special book of yours,” Sam says, cutting him off. “Please, Sam?” Henry practically begged. Sam held up his hands, not wanting to argue. Henry grinned excitedly. Then a thought came to his mind. “Henry, we don’t have any horses in town, do we?” Henry nodded, heading to a small ranch in town that Sam didn’t know was there. Then again, Sam didn’t travel much. Mostly, he was occupied with work from the law firm or doing work for Mr. Gold. When not spending time at his place of employment, Sam spends a lot of time at home or even sharing a meal with his brother at Granny’s diner. How else would he know that Singer Ranch even existed? “Henry! Nice to see you, kid!” An older man chuckled. “Hi, Mr. Singer!” Henry greeted, “Sam and I came to ride a horse!” “Mr. Singer,” Sam also greeted, holding out his hand for the elder stablemaster to hold. “Henry’s told me a lot about you, Sam. Let me guess, he thinks one of my horses are yours then?” Sam nodded, clearing his throat. Bobby led them to the stables, where there were three horses. One seemed to catch Sam’s eye. A black horse, the tallest of the three with a beautiful black mane. “That there is Onyx.” Bobby says,  “Got him all saddled up for you.” As Sam approached the stable door, Onyx let out a loud knicker. Causing Sam to chuckle, brushing the horse’s nose. “See? He recognized you!” Henry cheered. This made Sam blink his eyes and back up a little. “Henry, I’ve never seen this horse in my life.” He says, trying to argue. “Bet you can ride him though.” Henry says, “Besides if you’re teaching me, you should show me what to do first, right?” This kid was not letting up. Apparently, Sam wasn’t the only one Henry had been pestering. Henry had been pressing Dean too. Making him show off archery lessons when he went to sub as a gym teacher for the day. Sam raised a brow at Henry after looking at Onyx. “If I can ride him properly around the arena, I’d like to know more about Y/N. Clearly, she dislikes me, and I’d like to know why. If I’m truly a prince, then maybe she’s a princess?” “If you can ride Onyx, Henry won’t be the only one impressed. Can’t seem to get anyone to calm him down to ride him. If anything, he tolerates me at best.” Bobby added under his breath. Stepping into the stall, Sam sighed, holding out his hand. The horse had to trust him first before he decided to jump onto his back and ride around the area Bobby had. “Easy boy,” Sam whispered softly. “I’m not gonna hurt you, see? You're not so bad, are you, Onyx," Sam said. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, letting it out slowly. He's never been close to a horse before, and yet, this horse seems to trust him. The hose gave a soft snort, his nose pressing into Sam’s hand as a sign of acceptance. Moving slowly, Sam placed his foot in the stirrup, pushing off the ground, swinging his leg over, and securing himself on the saddle. Henry noticed Sam shaking his head. Sam still felt Henry was still out of his mind. Sam wasn’t in some fairytale. He lived in the real world. Cleaning his throat, Sam nodded to Bobby, allowing him to open the stall door. “I’ll be damned,” Bobby says in surprise. “That horse barely tolerates me.” “That's because he’s Sam’s horse!” Henry says, trying to stress the point. Placing his book on a stool, flipping to find the page of Sam riding Onyx through the woods. This was crazy. Sam had never ridden a horse in his life, yet he knew how to approach Onyx? Sam gave a gentle click of his tongue, followed by a soft kick to Onyx’s side. Sam wanted to take things slow. Just send the horse on a peaceful walk. Apparently, Onyx had other ideas, moving into a trot instead. Sam gives him a swift kick. “I said walk.” He muttered “I thought you said you never rode a horse before Sam?” Bobby questioned him.  Sam blinked, looking over at the older man. “You made him stop on a dime since he wasn’t listening to ya. Only a rider who knows his horse would know how to control him like that.” Onyx was still not pleased with being told what to do, even if being ridden by Sam. He’d been cooped up in the stall for far too long. Onyx broke out into a full canter within a moment’s notice, rushing him and Sam into the woods outside of town. “Damn it, Onyx, slow down, would ya?!” Sam shouts, feeling frustrated and irritated. Why wasn’t the horse listening to him? It was clear the horse wanted to go running, to feel free and run. Sam desperately tried to gain his control back. While he was away, Henry and Bobby talked while looking over his storybook. Bobby was apparently in his book too, but Bobby was willing to sit and listen to Henry. Henry was just a boy. He needed friends to talk to instead of people brushing him off. “Onyx, I said slow down!” Sam snarled at the horse and gives it another firm kick to his rib area. Trying to make the stallion listen to reason. This time, after past attempts of misbehavior, Onyx finally slowed down to a trot then over to a walk. As sunset approached, Sam decided to climb down off Onyx and lead him back to the stables where he’d be in Bobby’s care once again. Offering to walk Henry home before choosing to walk home himself. He really didn’t want to head back to his apartment, didn’t want to face Ruby. She had given him enough of a headache and didn’t want to cause another one. Sam always knew he was welcomed at Granny’s for a meal. Even if he and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms. As Sam made his way into town, though, he heard screaming coming from the jail. It wasn’t anyone he knew, but the woman shouted a name he knew, making Sam feel sick to his stomach. “Graham...” Sam breathed, rushing over as fast as he could to help Emma. “Emma, Emma, what happened?” “I-I don’t know….” Emma stammered. “I….I think he’s dead….” She whispered, in a state of shock. With a frown, Sam leaned over to check Graham’s pulse on his neck then his wrist. With tears brimming his eyes, he rushed over to Granny’s for help. Y/N had just made her way inside from running an errand for Granny, noticing the look in Sam’s eyes. She slowly reached to place a gentle hand on his arm.  “Sam? What is it?” she asked. A lonely tear fell down Sam’s cheek.  “Graham’s Dead.”

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 2 REWRITE

Hi y'all. I'm really sad I have to do this all over again because tumblr goofed up big time. I went to edit this for tags and cleanliness and then next thing I know boom it’s gone. I know it won’t be as good as it was when I first wrote it but I will do my best to recreate what I had. This is what I get for not saving it or not doing so when I TOLD MYSELF TOO 😤 again i’m so sorry and here’s my rewrite

Warnings: suggestive language 18+, i think that’t it!

Part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aizawa Shouta is a simple man. Wore clothes that were best for him, always did his duty as a teacher and an underground hero. He was always able to do the right or best thing when it was necessary. Never afraid to back down from what needed to be done.

So why is he standing across the street on his day off from a place he’s been meaning to check out for weeks? He studies the business card in his hand that has the name and address of the building he’s currently staring at. Just for good measure he triple checks the address and store name-

“Personally Yours, Book boutique!”

Black almond eyes widen as Aizawa’s thoughts are perturbed by the loud blond next to him. He’s not sure why he allowed his best friend (don’t tell Hizashi that) to accompany him today to meet the intriguing bartender and bookstore owner. (Y/n) (L/n). That name and face has been plaguing him over the last three weeks from when they first met. The way her hair matched and reflected her personality, her amazing quirk, her willingness to make people’s lives better... 

The way her lips looked incredibly kissable and fuckable at the same time had left him with his hands down his pants many nights.

Aizawa looks to his friend as he sees Hizashi grinning widely from ear to ear, eager about what’s about to happen. It’s been far too long since the blond has seen his friend this worked up over anything, let alone a person! But he knew, deep in his friendly heart, that Aizawa would have done nothing if he didn’t intervene and tell him to go visit her.

“It’s about time you decided to go see her ‘Zawa. It’s been what, like three weeks?” 

“You don’t have to remind me.” Yes, he knew. Aizawa knew we waited two weeks and six days too long to finally reach out or do something. But could the world blame him? He’s a teacher and underground hero already looking for the next class of heroes for U.A.; the man hasn’t had a day off in far too long and now he has one. He can only hope that the lady he kept waiting would understand. But she had to, right?

With what seemed like forever, he finally managed to place one foot in front of the other and cross the street to enter the building. The outside looks quaint, almost too perfect for a bookstore in his opinion. It appears to be one story but there might be living quarters on top of it? Aizawa rolls his shoulders to relieve himself of any tension, turns back to his friend before he promptly goes inside…

And immediately regrets his decision. 

The loud sound that bombarded his ears was something he did not expect. Children. Toddlers maybe, but obnoxious nonetheless. He begins to question whether or not he should stay based on the loudness in the store. However despite the noise, he feels a sense of calmness and home-ness that he felt when he had talked with (Y/n) at the bar. The bookstore smells of cinnamon and vanilla, a combination he thinks he can get used to. The layout seems to be welcoming as well. In the middle, which he assumes is the check out and help desk, is a circular module that has different pathways leading to other parts of the store. Each pathway leads to shelves lined up with all kinds of books, lit above by medium sized lanterns that give the store its unique glow. 

Aizawa surmises that the store is an accurate representation of the bewildering woman he met a few weeks ago. Everything about the size, the layout, the aura reminds him of their plethora of conversations from just one night, and maybe more to come.

He approaches the middle desk in hopes that she would be near. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes that the bulk of the noise is coming from the back, which looks to be a cozy reading nook with bean bag and other comfy chairs surrounded by end tables and ottomans. He can feel the chaotic energy from where he stands.

Hesitantly, he pushes the bell near the cash register. 

“I’ll be right there!”

Stunned at the sound of her voice, he waits patiently but also impatiently for the woman that has been haunting his thoughts for almost a month now to appear. His eyes wander to the counter, however at that moment the sound of sneakers hitting linoleum comes closer to him.

“Hi,” she pants out, holding up a finger. “How, whew, how can I help you…”

She drawls out the last part as she finally sees who had called her attention. Seriously, couldn’t this person know that today was extremely busy? But her thoughts come to a halt when she’s met with deep almond eyes and scruff, even though she’s seen it once, could recognize anywhere.

“Aizawa-san?”

“Just Aizawa is fine. Looks like I came at a bad time?”

“Hah, that’s an understatement,” (Y/n) puffs out. Her eyes must be deceiving her. There’s no way he’s actually here. They had met almost a month ago and it was a meeting she’ll never forget. The hard-working woman is never one to make small talk with her patrons but something about him caught her focus and for the rest of the night and the most of these three weeks, was all she could think about. “Once a month we have a local daycare come in and bring their students to look and explore in the store! Helps them get better at reading and finding out what other things they may like.”

The man before her nods in understanding, unsure of what else to say. He had practiced this moment over and over but now that it’s here he’s unsure of what to do.

“I thought you were never gonna show up. But I’m really glad to see you not in a club, it feels more real I guess?” She paused briefly before beginning again. “I honestly thought I made up the whole thing, or that something was wrong with me…”

“No,” Aizawa interrupts, afraid to hear more. “It’s my fault. I’ve been busy with teaching and being a hero.”

“No I get it. I work two jobs too so I understand how busy you are. I’m glad you’re even here.”

The two of them smile at each other, taking in each others features in that present moment. The feel of familiarity reaches them once again, as if everything around them doesn’t exist and it’s just them. Most of the reason he’s never considered meeting anyone is mostly because of his schedule. Many would find it ridiculous how busy the man is but he cares deeply for what he does and bringing someone new into it would be a whole new level of stress he doesn’t think he needs. He’s married to his job essentially, and so it seems is (Y/n).

Their moment is broken when small hand tugs on the pant leg of (Y/n), stealing her eyes away from his. She looks down to see one of her daycare toddlers staring up at her. The little girl, Yuki, unfaltering in her gaze is clearly demanding attention.

“Oh! Hi Yuki, did you already pick a book to bring home?”

The little girl nods and proceeds to lift her arms above her head, making a grabbing motion with her hands. (Y/n) slyly rolls her eyes and picks up Yuki. Holding her in her arms, (Y/n) turns back to Aizawa.

“This is Yuki. She’s a little shy, soft spoken, but absolutely adorable. She’s also one of my favorites because she’s so quiet.”

Aizawa looks down to the toddler in her arms and doesn’t make any moves to approach. The toddler’s eyes widen at the strange man in front of her, eyes boring into his figure to take him in.

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

It takes all of the woman’s strength to not drop the child as her shoulders shake in laughter. Aizawa struggles to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking away from the scene before him. It’s not his fault he prefers to wear all black; it’s slimming and makes him feel comfortable. He’s starting to think that maybe he should have shaved and put his hair in a bun for his day off.

Once his heart has calmed down, he faces the toddler again only to see her being swayed back and forth by (Y/n) as she hums a soothing melody. He knows it’s not a possible thing but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was the most domestic thing he’s seen that actually makes him happy.

But at the same time he thinks about having one of his own with her and wanting to fuck her senseless against-

“So I’m guessing this is your day off?”

He stammers, “Uh, yeah. I was hoping we could do something today.”

“Hmm, do something as a date or do something as friends?”

He smirks at her sass, “I’m hoping for the former.”

“That can be arranged. I close early today so, meet me in front of the store at 7?”

“That sounds great, let me give you my number and-“

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

She promptly takes the child to the back and excuses herself from the desk. Aizawa searches around him for a spare piece of paper and luckily finds an unneeded receipt and a very purple pen. Once he’s done writing he sees her come back without the child.

“Sorry about that. But, ah, is this your number?”

“Yeah clearly.”

“Well geez, maybe I will put you as hobo in my phone just for that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh it’s happening.”

He rolls his eyes at her antics and smiles at her. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about being around her just makes him calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have. But text me when you’re ready. 

“And maybe I’ll give you a night to remember.”

***************************************** He winks at her as he walked out and (Y/n) is left with her heart pumping in her ears. Did she really respond to what Aizawa said with “Oh yeah? Well I hope you do ‘cause maybe I’ll make those fantasies of yours come true. It has been three weeks after all.”? What was that?! She can’t just say she knows what he was thinking by the way his pupils had dilated a couple time, that’s too crazy.

Too weird, nope, she’s not weird at all.

Slapping her cheeks to re-center herself, she approaches the back of her store to meet with the children and her co-workers.

“Finally you’re back,” her co-worker, Kona, sighs. “Who was that? You were gone for a while so I know it wasn’t just another customer.”

“It was, um the guy.”

“Shut up!” he practically shouts, “he came here? After three weeks? Are you gonna see him? Please tell me you’re gonna see him?”

“Kona hush, not in front of the kids.”

He shrugs, “Oh sure, when it’s your sex life it’s all secret secret, but if it’s my sex life everyone has to know!”

(Y/n) slices her hand across her neck. “Shut. It!”

“Fine fine,” he whispers. “But you gotta at least tell me if he gave off daddy vibes at least. Big dick energy? Most guys like that do exude it.”

“You are so lucky I love you or you’d be fired.”

“You didn’t say no,” Kona whisper sang back to her. She did her best to hide the way her eyes widened at that but failed miserably.

Closing time couldn’t come quick enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

here’s the rewrite! @kiribaku-queen @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 12: Code Breaker

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Warnings: two very justified character deaths 

Notes: I feel like I blacked out and now we’re somehow on the last episode. Not sure how that happened so fast but here we are. Just prepare yourself bc this one is entirely too long but I didn’t want to do two parts 🤷‍♀️

Does anyone want me to continue with Season 2? Please let me know bc I won’t do it unless people are actually interested.

I also wanted to give a shoutout to everyone who has sent me nice comments and showed love on this series. It’s meant the absolute world to me!

Okay now let’s get some closure!

                                                    ————————

I walked through the hallways of the high school, using every ounce of willpower I could muster to keep my eyes firmly planted in front of me.

The pressure of dozens of curious stares weighed on my back as I made my way toward the lockers briskly. From the moment I walked through the doors a few minutes ago, all eyes had been on me. I squared my shoulders and forced my head to remain up high.

If people wanted to gossip, they could go right ahead.

My pace quickened as I heard the unmistakable sound of judgmental whispering behind me. I pinched my eyes shut tightly and tried my best to block out the irritating noise. I just wanted to get my books and go to class. At least there, I would see Scott, Stiles, and Allison.

Once I reached my locker, I shakily dialed in my code and popped the small metal door open. I instantly stumbled back, my eyes going wide as a shit ton of dirt came spilling out. I stood still for a few seconds, blinking slowly as I tried figuring out what the hell just happened.

With a frown, I wiped my hands against my jeans, which were now covered in the stuff. My eyes flickered down toward the pile of soil on the tiles in front of my feet, my brows furrowing in confusion.

How the hell did that much dirt get into my locker? How did any dirt get into my locker?

I glanced around the hall slowly, anxious to see my classmates reactions. I was already the weird girl after everything at the dance. I didn’t want to be the even weirder girl who keeps dirt in the locker.

A surprised breath left my lips as I saw that the halls were now completely empty. I turned all the way around, peering in both directions, but there wasn’t a single soul here with me. My head started pounding and I winced at the unexpected sensation before rubbing at my temples gently.

I swiveled back toward my locker, wanting nothing more than for this day to be over. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I wasn’t ready for this yet. I instantly froze at the sight of a single purple flower sitting in the middle of the dirt pile. I was almost certain it hadn’t been there a moment before.

My heartbeat thrummed loudly in my ears as I reached a trembling hand inside the small space. I tentatively plucked the plant, which I easily recognized as wolfsbane, out of the soil. My eyes flickered around the purple leaves and long, green stem as my confusion only grew.

Just then, an ear piercing scream echoed through the halls. I whipped around, instantly going rigid when I saw that I was no longer in the school, but standing in the middle of the lacrosse field.

I glanced around the empty stadium, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Did I suddenly develop the ability to teleport? Or was I losing my damn mind? My eyes trailed downward as I felt cool air brush against my legs. My breath hitched as I saw that I was wearing my formal dress. The navy fabric was covered in blood and dirt, the strap on my left shoulder torn to shreds.

A bolt of fear licked up my spine as I heard rustling directly in front of me. My gaze slowly swept upward before landing on a pair of glowing red eyes that were illuminated in the shadowy distance. My eyes pinched shut as terror coursed through me when they started moving closer.

“It’s not real.” The mantra was a shaky whisper as my body trembled. “It’s not real. It’s not—”

Just then, my eyes jerked open on their own accord. I bolted upright with a harsh gasp, my throat constricting painfully as I sputtered and coughed a few times. One of my hands came up to clutch at my chest as I tried desperately to catch my breath.

Only a split second passed before Stiles flailed into a sitting position beside me. He whipped his head from side to side with wide eyes, as if searching for the cause of my panic. Once his attention landed back on me, he instantly pulled me into his chest and began murmuring lowly.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” One of his hands rubbed at my back while the other cradled my head against him.

“Lydia...” I gasped, my breath coming out in quick, trembling spurts. The dream had been some sort of vision or clue...it just had to be.

“Lydia’s alright, okay? They’re gonna find her.” Stiles’ fingers threaded through my hair and massaged my scalp soothingly.

“What? What is it? What happened?” Scott’s head suddenly popped up at the foot of my bed, his hair so messy it looked like he’d been hurled through a tornado.

“Another nightmare.” I breathed, feeling my heartrate dropping back down to normal as Stiles’ hands continued rubbing against me gently. 

Scott sighed from the floor, his shoulders sagging in relief. One of his hands came up to massage the back of his neck and he grimaced uncomfortably. “Cool. Is it my turn on the bed yet?”

“You can curl up down here if you want, like a good puppy.” Stiles smirked at his own joke as one of his hands left me to point toward our feet.

“Scott, just go sleep in your own bed. It’s literally right there.” I gestured to my window, which faced his, and slowly pulled away from Stiles.

As much as I would love to stay in his arms forever, I had to learn to get ahold of myself on my own. They couldn’t keep babying me. Both of them had done nothing but obsess over my health from the moment I was discharged out of the hospital two days ago. 

Scott had refused to leave my side since I’d gotten home, other than the brief moments he made appearances in his own house so that his mom knew he was still alive. He insisted it was to keep an eye on me, and that was partially true, but he was also basically in hiding right now. 

Jackson, being the wonderful friend that he is, somehow found the time to tell Mr. Argent that Scott is the beta they’ve been looking for, kindly adding on to our reasons-life-is-currently-terrible list.

“And let you guys have all the fun without me?” Scott mumbled sarcastically and leaned back to lay on the pillow and blanket I’d set up for him on the hardwood floor.

This had been our routine for two days. Mom banned me from having any visitors while I recover, but that hadn’t stopped Scott from staying or Stiles from sneaking in after school. Each night, I could barely make it through a few hours of sleep at a time before jerking awake from yet another nightmare. Or maybe they were visions. I honestly had no idea.

My days had also been...weird, to say the least. Most of the time, it was hard to tell whether or not I was awake. My sense of reality was seriously fucked up. I was having almost constant visions and dreams, and they never made any sense. It felt like my subconscious was trying to tell me something, but in another language I had yet to learn.

Lydia was still missing, and I was beyond worried sick. Sheriff Stilinski and the entire police department had searched every square inch of Beacon Hills over the course of the last two days, and hadn’t found a single trace of her.

Aside from that shitshow, I also hadn’t spoken to Allison since the last time I’d seen her at the dance. No one had, actually.

Scott—when he wasn’t fawning over me—was losing his mind because apparently while I was being a dumbass and getting myself bitten, Mr. Argent somehow made him shift in front of Allison. Then, he shipped her and Kate off to an undisclosed location until further notice.

I’d sent her a few texts since being home, but she only responded once. The words had replayed in my mind over and over for several hours after reading them as I tried figuring out an acceptable response.

You knew the whole time, didn’t you?

I eventually decided not to answer at all. What could I say? I’d kept something huge from her, although it was never really my secret to tell anyway. She had every right to be pissed off. I wanted to address it in person and, honestly, didn’t have the mental capacity to worry much about it right now.

I blinked a few times, feeling myself come back from my dazed thoughts as Scott and Stiles’ voices fluttered back to my ears. I’d been doing that a lot, too. Getting lost in my mind for several minutes at a time, if not longer. I felt a curious gaze on my face and took in a slow, deep breath before lifting my head to meet Stiles’ eyes.

My heart clenched uncomfortably in my chest at the look he was giving me. It was the same expression that had been etched into his face ever since I’d woken up in the hospital. It was like he was afraid I would try to kill him at any given moment, while simultaneously worrying that I’d suffer a mental break or croak on the spot.

I heard the rumbling sound of snoring from the floor and knew that Scott was already out cold again.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. I glanced at the alarm clock on my bedside table, noting with a regretful wince that it was three in the morning. He had school in only a few hours.

Stiles’ eyes inspected me tenderly, rounding with concern as he reached out to tuck a stray clump of hair behind my ear gently. “I wasn’t sleeping. You stole my pillow, so...”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He apparently couldn’t sleep without the thing and had brought it with him each night. It was quite possibly the most adorable thing ever.

“I’m still sorry.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I looked down toward my lap and fidgeted with my fingers. 

Ever since I was bitten I’d felt...different. Like a burden. Out of control. It was as if my mind was warring with itself all day, every day. I had a constant nagging fear that I was forgetting something important. It was like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t remember.

Stiles leaned toward me slowly and cupped my cheek before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. His fingers trailed down to brush against the side of my neck before tangling in the hair at the base of my skull. His free hand came up to the other side of my head and he pulled it down against his chest. My eyes fluttered shut as a sigh left my lips.

A sense of peace always washed over me when he was near. Despite everything going on, all it took was a small touch to quiet my racing mind. I felt myself relaxing, if only slightly, in his arms. A moment later, I leaned back to look at him again, my stomach fluttering at the intense gleam of worry shining in his caramel eyes.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” My voice broke and I furrowed my brows as traitorous tears filled my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel sorry for myself. I wanted to get better.

Stiles glanced fleetingly at the place where Peter had bitten me, but jerked his attention back to my face quickly, probably hoping I hadn’t noticed. “Whatever it is...we’ll figure it out.”

Somehow, his response wasn’t all that comforting. I didn’t doubt for a second that he’d be there for me every step of the way as I went through whatever this was. I’d watched how he helped Scott during the early stages of his transformation, and it was admirable. But I didn’t want there to be anything wrong. I didn’t want there to be anything different about me.

I just wanted to be normal.

“C’mere...” Stiles opened his arms and I couldn’t help but instantly fall into them.

He pulled me tight against him and leaned back, snagging his pillow from my side of the bed on the way down. My eyes fluttered shut as I laid there on top of him, my legs between his and my head resting above his heart.

I listened to the steady rhythm of his pulse, feeling it lull me to sleep within seconds.

                                                    ————————

I leaned back against my headboard, adjusting the book that rested atop my knees. My bottom lip was tucked between my teeth anxiously as I flipped another page. I narrowed my eyes as they swept over the words, urging my mind to comprehend them. I just couldn’t. I was way too distracted.

My eyes flickered up to find Scott lounging in my desk chair across the room. He was playing some game on his phone and it was making this annoying boing sound every few seconds. It was starting to drive me crazy, but it wasn’t the only thing causing my jitters. 

I glanced away from him to look out my open window and sighed heavily. It was already dark outside, and Stiles wasn’t here yet.

It wasn’t usually like me to jump to conclusions, but considering the state of our lives right now, it wasn’t a stretch to be worried. At this point, though, I was moving toward a full on panic attack. School ended six hours ago. What could he possibly be doing?

I opened my mouth to voice my concern, but never got a chance as Scott interrupted me before I could get even a single word out.

“He’s fine.” He said absently, his eyes never leaving his phone’s screen.

My eyebrows twitched up in surprise. “How did you know...”

“I can hear your heart racing.” He sighed and finally dropped his phone onto my desk before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “You either just ran a marathon, or you’re worried about something. That something is usually Stiles. And he’s fine.”

I rolled my lips into a tight line at the way he’d just read me so easily. “But it’s already—”

Just then, something thumped outside my window loudly. I stiffened at the sound, and Scott perked up in his chair, instantly on high alert. There was a low groan before a figure clambered through the opening. I instantly knew it was Stiles as I caught sight of his red flannel. He flailed to the floor spastically with a yelp and I slammed my book closed before bolting to my feet.

I rushed to his side, my arms wrapping around him as he struggled to get up. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as if he’d run the whole way here.

“Where were you? Are you okay? What happened?” I couldn’t stop the panicked words from tumbling past my lips.

My eyes trailed over him quickly to assess for any damage. His freckled cheeks were flushed and the top three buttons on his flannel were undone, exposing his white undershirt. He looked a little roughed up, but not hurt.

He finally stood up straight and his eyes widened when they met mine, as if only just then realizing that I was beside him. He gripped my upper arms sternly before walking me backward.

“What are you doing? Get back in bed.” I had no choice but to plop down onto the mattress as the back of my knees ran right into it.

“Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.” I frowned up at him and his eyes twitched in warning.

“Oh, God. Please don’t make me listen to another who’s more worried about who fight. I might seriously puke this time.” Scott practically threw himself onto the bed beside me, a look of feigned disgust taking over his face.

My eyes swept toward him and narrowed into a glare only briefly, as my attention moved back to Stiles when he started talking again.

“Moving on.” He sent a pointed look Scott’s way before continuing, his hands gesturing quickly in front of him. He was anxious, that much was obvious. “I had a uh...talk with Chris—”

“Who?” I interrupted, thrown off by the unfamiliar name.

Stiles’ eyes twitched at me in annoyance as he flailed one of his arms in a circle, signaling that we didn’t have much time. “Argent.”

“You call Allison’s dad Chris?” My voice rose in disbelief. Since when was that a thing?

“Oh my God. This is important, okay? He tried to get me and Jackson to tell him where Scott is and—”

Scott sprang upright on the bed, his eyes wide with alarm. “Why were you with Jackson?”

“Can I just finish? Is that alright with you two?” Stiles’ voice rose in frustration, his eyes pinching shut for a brief moment after he shouted.

Both Scott and I froze and he sighed before running a hand down his face. His gaze flickered to Scott as he extended a hand out apprehensively. “He’s literally planning to kill you. Tonight. Okay? So you can’t—”

Scott suddenly rose to his feet, his face tight with determination. “I need to find Derek.”

Stiles’ fingers curled into a fist, still hanging in the air, as he pursed his lips when Scott brushed past him. “Why do we keep going back to him? He’s like your abusive ex, okay? You have a problem. And did you miss the part where I just said you could be murdered by werewolf hunters at any given moment?”

“If the Argents are after me, he’s the only one who can help.” Scott braced his hands against my windowsill and turned to glare at Stiles over his shoulder.

Before either of us could ask him what he was doing, he doubled over with a low groan. I realized he was shifting and tentatively slid back on my mattress, not sure what was going on. I knew he would never hurt me, but I hadn’t seen anything supernatural since being bitten. It instantly had me on edge.

Then, he jerked upright and howled loudly into the dark sky. 

I winced at the deep, rumbling sound, feeling a painful twinge in my head. One of my hands came up to cradle my temple as my lips parted in a silent gasp. The noise was vibrating all the way in my bones, overwhelming every one of my senses. I felt myself slipping away from the present, my eyes wide but unfocused. I faintly registered an arm wrapping around my back as Stiles rushed to kneel in front of me. 

His free hand cupped my face, his lips moving rapidly as he tried to bring me back. I suddenly had the strong urge to close my eyes, so I let them flutter down slowly. Instantly, my breath caught as an image of Derek’s house popped into my mind. There were way too many things happening to decipher any of it. My brows furrowed as I tried making sense of what I was seeing. 

The clearest picture was the most gruesome. Blood. Everywhere. 

A painful spasm in my left shoulder had my eyes jerking open. They met Stiles’ wide, panicked gaze as he hovered only a few inches away from me. With a snap, his and Scott’s voices rushed into my ears. 

“What the hell did you do to her?” Stiles practically yelled, his voice tight with anxiety and a hint of anger. His hands were clutching my arms as he jostled me awake.

Scott appeared at his side above me, his face crumbled in horror. “I-I didn’t do anything! I didn’t mean to...”

“I think I know where to find him.” I interrupted breathily, blinking a few times to focus my eyes. I sat up with a groan, my head pounding harshly. Stiles tightened his grip on me as he tried to keep me steady. “His house. I saw it.”

Scott’s face dropped from beside me, his brows furrowing as his lips pulled into a frown. “So did I.”

We shared a long, curious glance. I had no idea what that meant, and judging by the glint of wonder reflecting in his eyes, neither did he. 

“So we’re just not gonna talk about whatever that was?” Stiles asked incredulously. He e took a step away from me and shrugged sarcastically with a tilt of his head. 

“We don’t have time.” I pushed myself up to my feet and strode toward my closet hurriedly. 

It was freezing outside by now, and I wanted to be prepared for once. I rustled through my sweaters until I found one I didn’t mind ruining. My shoulder protested each movement as I wrestled it over my head, but I tried my best to ignore it. I turned on my heel to face the guys and froze at the looks they were giving me. 

Scott seemed hesitant, but didn’t look like he was going to argue, while Stiles was very much unimpressed. 

“That’s funny.” He laughed humorlessly and pointed at me. “It looks like you think you’re going somewhere.”

I frowned at his demanding tone. “I’m sorry, are you my mother? No? Okay. That’s what I thought.”

I brushed past him to find a pair of socks in my dresser. If he thought he was going to start telling me what to do just because we’re dating, he had another thing coming. My eyes flickered up to meet his in the mirror as I heard rustling behind me.

“You can’t seriously—” His mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to find the right words. I pulled out a mismatched pair of socks and turned to lean against the dresser as I slid them on. “Scott, tell her how stupid this is.” 

“Hell no. I’m not getting involved.” He glanced between us with wide eyes, lifting his hands in surrender. 

“If we don’t go now, Derek is going to die.” I forced the words out through clenched teeth, growing impatient. Somehow, I knew that’s the future we were up against, despite not having actually seen it happen. I just knew. 

“Since when do we care about that?” Stiles swiveled his head as his eyebrows rose in question. 

Scott stepped forward, suddenly looking pensive. “I’m not going to just let him die.”

“I’m the only sane one left...” Stiles muttered to himself, throwing his hands up in exasperation. 

After several more minutes of pointless arguing, a very disgruntled Stiles finally agreed to drive us to Derek’s. The three of us had barely made it a few steps outside the Jeep before he came barreling from the house, looking unpleasant as ever. 

“What the hell are you doing? None of you should be here right now.” His angry voice echoed through the trees as he continued stalking forward until he stood right in front of us. 

“Finally, someone’s making—oh my God!” Stiles didn’t have a chance to finish his thought as an arrow came out of nowhere and embedded itself into Derek’s shoulder. 

My eyes widened in shock and I whipped around just as another arrow came from the trees to land in his thigh. He crumpled to the ground with a groan, clutching at his injuries. 

“Close your eyes!” He shouted and tucked his face into his elbow. 

Long fingers clasped around my bicep and I was jerked to the side before another hand shoved my head into a warm chest. I screwed my eyes shut tightly, a quiet boom sounding beside us. Stiles and I separated quickly to see what it was, but my eyes landed on Scott instead. 

He was crouched down on all fours, blinking rapidly. He hadn’t been fast enough. He squinted into the distance and I followed his line of sight, but came up empty. 

Derek grunted lowly as he broke off the shafts of each arrow that still lay inside him. He stumbled to his feet and grabbed Scott by the collar of his jacket. “Get to the house!” 

Stiles and I didn’t hesitate to obey as we bolted in that direction, our hands tangled together. We only made it about halfway before Derek slumped to the ground behind us, exhausted. I staggered to a halt at the sound and nearly lost my balance when Stiles continued moving. 

His eyes flickered from me to the place where Scott and Derek lay crumpled on the ground in a moment of hesitation. With a grimace, he let me go and we both jogged their way. 

“No! Go!” Derek’s head popped up and he tried waving us off, but it was too late. 

I froze, partially crouched beside him, as a thin figure emerged from the darkness. She was stomping toward us with a huge bow slung over her shoulder. The dim light from Derek’s porch illuminated her face as she neared us, and my breath caught in my throat. It was the last person I expected to see.

“Allison, I can explain—” Scott immediately stammered desperately, still trying to get his bearings after being stunned by the flash bullet. I realized at then that it was the same type she’d tried out with me and Lydia the week before formal.

“Stop lying.” She barked, her voice tight with built up anger. Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, my chest tightening at the intense betrayal swirling inside them. “All of you, for once, stop lying.”

“I was gonna tell you the truth. I was gonna tell you everything at the formal.” Scott rushed the words out in a panic as he shuffled backward to match each step she took toward him. “Everything that I said...everything I did...”

“Was to protect me.” She finished with a humorless scoff, fingers tightening around the arrow she held at her side.

“Yes.” He instantly confirmed, pleading with her to understand. 

I knew exactly how she felt. Being kept in the dark sucked, no matter which way it was spun. Maybe she had been safer this whole time because she didn’t know. Or maybe all his secret did was create an irreparable wedge between them. She was bound to find out eventually, considering who her family was, and this whole mess was probably the worst way it could’ve happened. 

Allison’s eyes glistened as she peered down at him, her hardened mask of hatred cracking just slightly. Her voice trembled as a few tears escaped down her cheeks. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Thank God!” I jumped at the sudden voice from the darkness, and watched as Kate stalked out of the tree line with a roll of her eyes. “Now shoot him before I have to shoot myself.”

My heart leapt into my throat at her words. With Scott dazed and Derek seriously injured, there wasn’t much we could do to stop her from killing either one of them. The reality of our situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Stiles and I were utterly useless. 

“Y-you said we were just going to catch them.” Allison sputtered, head jerking toward her aunt in surprise. 

“Yeah, and we did that. Now we’re going to kill them.” Kate raised an arm absently and shot a bullet right into Derek’s chest as she passed by, not even sparing him a glance. “See? Not that hard.”

I gasped at the unexpected act of violence, my jaw going slack. He instantly fell against the damp ground, motionless. 

Holy shit. Oh my God. Is he actually dead?

Allison’s horrified expression matched mine, more tears coating her face as she stared at Derek’s lifeless body. She stiffened when her aunt joined her in front of Scott, who was still gaping from his crouched position.

“Oh no, not that look.” Kate mused, not sounding the least bit genuine. “That’s the you’re going to have to do it yourself look.”

She raised her gun toward Scott’s chest, a manic grin pulling at her lips. I moved without thinking, taking a big step in their direction. Allison instantly started freaking out and tried to put herself between them, but Kate shoved her away harshly. 

She tumbled to the ground just as a hand clasped around my wrist to stop me. I yanked against it, my chest tightening with panic. I had to get over there. I had to help. 

“Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Stiles yelled frantically from behind me, his hold falling loose as I continued struggling against him. 

I ran forward and staggered to a halt beside Kate, who was still pointing the gun at Scott, having no idea what to do now that I was here. She glanced toward me and sighed with a disinterested roll of her eyes. Before I even fully registered that she moved, I was already on the ground. She’d whipped the gun against the side of my face harshly, white hot pain instantly rippling through my head. 

“No!” I heard Allison shout in horror. 

A groan trembled past my lips as I shakily pulled myself up onto my elbows. My vision blurred as Scott jerked upright, about to rush to my side before Kate aimed the gun at his chest again. He froze, his wide eyes never leaving me. I brought a hand up to my temple and hissed when my fingers landed on a warm trickle of blood. 

“Ah, ah...” Kate tutted, amusement shining in her eyes as she glanced behind me, gun following the movement. 

I turned my head and saw Stiles freeze mid-sprint toward me. His eyes narrowed into an angry glare as his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t move an inch. I let out a huff, growing frustrated by this whole stupid situation, and swept my gaze back to Kate. 

“Just shoot someone already.” I barked, annoyed with her games. 

Was it stupid to taunt the person with the weapon? Yes. Did I give a fuck? No. At this point, I was more angry than anything. We’d spent months fighting and tracking the alpha—Peter—as he went on a bloodthirsty rampage through Beacon Hills. We’d nearly died in the school, and at the movie store, and in these very woods. Several times. 

Lydia and I had been bitten, and Stiles’ dad was close to a nervous breakdown because nothing in this town makes any goddamn sense unless you’re risking your life everyday just by knowing about the supernatural. And now, we had to deal with Allison’s batshit crazy family, on top of everything. 

I just wanted it to be over.

Kate huffed out a surprised laugh and pointed the gun at me again. “What poetic last words.”

“No! Leave her alone! I’m the one you want.” Scott shouted desperately, stumbling upright from his position in the dirt. 

An evil smirk twitched at her lips as she ignored him. I watched her pointer finger tighten on the trigger and held my breath as I waited for the inevitable. 

“Kate!” A deep voice boomed from behind me, making her pause. I instantly recognized that it was Allison’s dad. “I know what you did.”

The amusement dropped from her face at his words and her eyes flickered up toward the house for a brief moment. 

“Put the gun down.” Mr. Argent ordered, dried leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walked toward us. 

“I did what I was told to do.” Kate jutted her hand toward me as she enunciated each word curtly. 

I stiffened, very aware that her finger, which still rested against the gun’s trigger, could set it off at any moment. My pulse hammered in my ears loudly and my entire body began trembling as my fear suddenly caught up with me.

“No one asked you to murder innocent people. There were children in that house.” 

My mind raced as I slowly pieced together what he was saying. The fire. It was Kate. But why? Why would she murder an entire family?

“Ones that were human. Look what you’re doing now, you’re holding a gun at sixteen year old kids. No proof they’ve spilled human blood.” He continued, his voice harsh and unfeeling. “Now, put the gun down...before I put you down.”

My eyes widened at his threat. Would he really kill his own sister?

Kate stared at him for a few long moments, her face crumbling in disbelief. Finally, she lowered her arm back down to her side. I let out a heavy breath of relief, but didn’t move from my crouched position in front of her. A loud creak from the house had everyone’s attention jerking toward it. 

The front door swung open slowly, nothing but darkness behind it.

“Kids, get back.” Allison’s dad ordered gruffly as he cocked his gun and aimed it at the decrepit structure. 

Scott stumbled to his feet, but didn’t make a move to run and hide as instructed. Allison joined his side a moment later, her bow and arrow cocked and aimed at the house. I heard quick steps behind me a moment before strong arms wrapped around my waist and hauled me to my feet. 

Stiles whipped me around to face him, and I winced as my head throbbed in protest. His hands came up to cradle the sides of my face, his fingers turning red as my blood smeared onto his skin. His wide eyes flickered around my body frantically, as if not fully believing that I was right here in front of him. 

He suddenly jerked me toward him and smashed his lips against mine, pouring every emotion he’d just gone through into the kiss. I responded instantly, my hands fisting the warm material of his flannel as I pulled him closer. It was over much too soon as he pulled back with a shaky breath of relief. 

“God, I’m so mad at you right now. I could literally kill you.” His eyes twitched as he continued inspecting me for any hidden injuries. 

“Wouldn’t that be a little counterproductive?” I chuckled despite the situation, and he just glared at me.

“What is it?” My attention jerked back to Allison at the sound of her panicked voice. I’d nearly forgotten what was going on outside the peaceful bubble that was Stiles. 

I turned back toward the house and saw Scott’s eyes flash bright yellow as he peered through the opened front door. “It’s the alpha.” 

At his declaration, a huge black mass raced out of the house, moving impossibly fast. It dashed around the area in a big circle before turning abruptly and knocking Mr. Argent right off his feet. He flew into the air before landing heavily, instantly passing out cold as his head slammed against the dirt. 

Allison cried out and made a move to help him, but quickly found herself in no better shape as the alpha rammed into her next. Only a second later, Scott was groaning as he lay in a heap beside her on the leaf covered ground. My heart slammed against my ribs painfully as my head whipped from side to side, trying to see where he was now. 

All the air rushed from my lungs as a powerful force shoved against mine and Stiles’ sides. His arms instantly wrapped around my waist, and mine around his shoulders. We held onto each other tightly as we flew several feet through the air. At the last second, Stiles shifted us so that he would take the brunt of the fall. He hissed in pain as his back slammed onto the dirt, and I quickly scrambled to get off of him. 

“Come on!” Kate’s angry voice echoed through the trees as she jerked her gun around in a circle. She was the only one left standing. 

I wrapped an arm around Stiles and helped him sit up. He waved me off, muttering something about being fine, and I huffed in annoyance. At this point I was convinced that he was physically unable to help himself from downplaying his own struggles. 

I was about to argue with him, but froze when Peter emerged from the darkness to stand threatening behind Kate. He snatched the arm that held her gun and wrenched it behind her with ease. She grunted in pain as he twisted it with a snap, two shots firing into the sky as they struggled. 

She had no choice but to release the gun. It landed on the ground with a dull thud as he gripped her by the throat and tossed her in the air like a ragdoll. She crashed onto the porch, a cloud of dust rising all around her as she shakily pushed herself up. 

Peter wasted no time in striding up the broken steps. He bent down and grabbed Kate violently before pressing her back to his chest, holding her in place with his claws at her neck. 

“No!” Allison suddenly shouted and sprinted toward them. 

My eyes widened in horror. What the hell did she think she was doing? I made a move to follow her, but Stiles wrapped both arms around my waist tightly. I pulled against him for a few seconds, but stopped when Peter’s voice echoed toward us. 

“She is beautiful, Kate. She looks like you, only not as damaged. So I’m going to give you a chance to save her.” My breath hitched as he addressed Allison and I started thrashing against Stiles again. I couldn’t let her get hurt. I couldn’t let anyone else I care about become one of his victims. “Apologize. Say you’re sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for six years. Say it, and I’ll let her live.”

A tense moment of silence passed as Kate seemed to weigh her options. Finally, she choked the words out the best she could. “I’m...sorry.” 

A small, satisfied smile tugged at Peter’s lips before he ripped her throat out with his claws. My jaw dropped as blood splattered across every nearby surface, my stomach churning at the violence of it all. Allison screamed, practically doubling over in horror as Kate crumpled to the porch with wide, empty eyes. Peter’s shoulders sagged as he let out a long sigh, a look of relief washing over him. 

“I don’t know about you, Allison, but that apology didn’t sound very sincere.” His amused gaze bored into her wide, glistening eyes as he stalked down the steps.

By the time he had one foot on the dirt ground, Scott and Derek were crouched in front of her protectively. I hadn’t even noticed that Derek was still alive, let alone completely healed, but I was more than grateful. 

“Run.” Scott grunted over his shoulder, and she didn’t hesitate to listen. 

She sprinted toward me and Stiles, taking her bow with her, and immediately crumpled into my arms. A harsh sob wracked her body as I pulled her in tight. I felt Stiles’ hand on my back as he guided us hastily toward his Jeep. A few animalistic growls and roars sounded from behind us, and I knew they were fighting.

“I’m sorry.” Allison cried, pulling away from me to wipe at her face. “I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t know what happened with you and Lydia, and now Kate’s gone and—oh my God. I’m the worst friend ever.” 

Stiles wrenched the passenger door open when we reached the car and I shoved Allison inside before crawling in behind her. Something snapped behind us, and I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d just uprooted a tree or completely destroyed the house. 

“It’s okay.” I breathed, running a hand down Allison’s back as she continued blubbering. “We’re both terrible friends, honestly.”

“Wait.” She suddenly perked up, her eyes widening in horror. “My dad.”

Damnit. I‘d completely forgotten about him. 

I turned to peer out the window and winced as Peter picked Derek up by the ankle and tossed him through the air. He crashed into Scott, who was trying to pull himself upright a few feet away, bringing him right back down harshly. 

Peter snarled, seemingly losing control as he hunched over and shifted fully into a huge, terrifying beast. He roared loudly, baring his claws and stalking forward. He grabbed Derek by the throat and threw him into a nearby tree before turning back to Scott. 

“I have to do something.” Stiles suddenly spoke up from the front seat. My head whipped in his direction as he threw open the driver’s side door and clambered onto the ground. 

“What? No!” I immediately tumbled out behind him and watched with baited breath as he reached into the trunk. 

My brows furrowed as I caught sight of a huge beaker in his hand. I barely had time to register that here was a yellow liquid swirling inside before he hurled it at Peter. As it flew toward him, I realized it was a Molotov cocktail, like the one Lydia showed us how to make when we were stuck inside the school. Peter caught it easily, his glowing red eyes snapping our way with a ferocious growl. 

“Oh, damn...” Stiles instantly deflated and took a tentative step back. 

My eyes widened as I whipped back around to face Allison, an idea suddenly popping into my head. She seemed to know exactly what I was thinking as she reached for her bow and instantly nocked the arrow into place. After taking only a moment to aim it out the opened window, she fired. 

It hit the glass bottle dead center, and Peter’s left arm erupted in flames. He roared frantically and tried shaking the fire off, only managing to make it spread across his torso more quickly. Soon, his entire body was ablaze as he staggered around and howled in agony. 

After a few long, torturous moments, he slumped down onto his knees in his human form. Thick smoke billowed from his charred skin as he sputtered and gasped for air. We all stood impossibly still, gaping at him in horror. I don’t think any of us had the slightest idea of what to do next.

Derek suddenly emerged from the house, his face a tight mask of fury. He stalked toward Peter, who now lay on his back, and stood over him with clenched fists. 

“Wait!” Scott rose to his feet and stopped only a foot away from them, his eyes wide with panic. Derek’s hard glare never moved an inch. “You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. If you do this, I’m dead. What am I supposed to do?”

My attention snapped back toward him, surprised at his words. There was a cure? I had no idea what he was talking about, but it must’ve been important if he was this freaked out over it. 

Derek’s eyes pinched shut and his jaw clenched tightly. He hesitated for only a brief moment before raising a clawed hand in the air. 

“Wait! N-no! Don’t!” Scott's desperate plea fell on deaf ears as Derek brought his hand down to slash Peter’s throat. 

Allison gasped from beside me, and I just stared ahead with wide eyes. My breath caught in my throat as I watched yet another person’s life fade away right in front of me. It was almost hard to believe, that he was actually dead. We’d all been through so much. It didn’t seem possible that it could all be over, just like that. 

There had to be more.

Derek staggered to his feet and turned to glower at Scott over his shoulder. His canines elongated and his eyes flashed bright red before he uttered the words we were all dreading. The ones that would seal our fate for the foreseeable future. 

“I’m the alpha now.”

Episode 11 Season 2, Episode 1 (Part One)