#let's try to make today fun and cozy and painless...

[malucy31]

Even Autumn knows Dawn

Every day Magnus wakes up with Alec in his life, he realizes how differently he deals with his depression and aches. It's a lot better now. This is one of these mornings.

Teen and Up audiences

1922 words

Read on ao3

“I should have let you kidnap me while there was still time,” Alec mumbles, half asleep. “We would still be in Havana, winning all the salsa dancing competitions by now.”

With a light chuckle, Magnus slips under the cover and dives into his embrace. It has been a very long day on top of an excruciating week. Being in the warmth of Alec’s arms is everything he has been looking forward to the entire day. It doesn’t disappoint. The feeling of homeis immediate, making all his sore, tired muscles soften like marshmallows.

“The offer still stands, you know.”

“Mmh… ‘ll ‘member” Alec punctuates his words with a squeeze around his waist and, in a few seconds, Magnus can tell he has fallen back asleep. His heart breaks a little, but it’s 4 a.m. after all.

“Good night, Alexander,” he murmurs with a kiss against his shoulder.

Their schedules haven’t aligned in weeks. Magnus longs for their cozy pillow talks and lazy cuddles, has hoped all day to be home early enough to at least go to bed at the same time as Alec, but it was too good to be true.

Tomorrow won’t be better… Another political meeting to try to prevent a conflict between two warlock communities, a powerful client who keeps asking for impossible things, and the certainty that when he wakes up, Alec will be already getting ready for his own day of misery.

*

When Magnus opens his eyes, he wishes he had been wrong. His body already feels Alec’s absence and has decided to take over his side of the bed. The Sun is barely rising, but a weight is already settling on his chest. Alec’s scent is faint on the pillow, trapped in the silk fibers like morning dew under clover leaves. It helps soothe the ache a little, the one that has been following him for centuries.

He inhales deeply, letting relief wash over him.

Who knew answers could be so soft, so sweet?

A lifetime ago, he thought the answer was in more.More music, more laughter, more lovers, constant roller coasters of emotions. Whatever it took to quiet the pain.

Always more.

Until numbness.

Until oblivion and nothingness.

Until all that pain inside, that longing, that beasthad no other solution than to lock itself away in a dark, remote corner of his soul.

A never-ending fight against himself.

He remembers going through the last century like the wrinkled last page of a forgotten love letter, blowing in the wind through deserted streets. No will to steer him. Only the certainty that he wouldn’t see the turn of the next century carved deep into his bones.

No one is supposed to live this long.

There’s a reason why warlocks have to eventually find a way to burn their heart to ashes, get rid of their weakness, their humanity. Centuries ago, someone tried to convince Magnus it was the only way.

But his heart has always been his pride, the only good thing about him. He will never feed it to bitterness, this brave, oh so human organ that seeks connection more than air. Despite what people think of him, he never stopped wearing it in the palm of his hand.

Even through his darkest times, he would still take it out of his own chest if someone needed it. He would let it see the beauty of the world, of love, of the comfort and sense of belonging one can only draw from helping others. It made the pain turn wistful instead of nagging.

He thought that was his only answer. Helping others to have reasons to stay.

Forever seeking noise to keep an open heart and take care of his children.

Forever needed.

Forever alone…

Then, he met Alexander. Someone who is the opposite of noise, the opposite of his usual noise anyway.

Magnus will never be able to express precisely what drew him to this quiet shadowhunter. The moment he took Alec’s hand, something in him stirred, sighed like it hadn’t done in forever. Today, he likes to think that his magic recognized him somehow, giving his heart more reasons to keep beating.

If all legends are true, maybe souls wander the world, wander centuries and bodies until they find a home.

Alexander’s love isn’t loud, it’s quiet in all the most perfect ways. Even when he lets it explode, there’s a harmony, a celestial beauty that always leaves Magnus speechless, in complete awe.

Alexander doesn’t bring numbness. He makes Magnus aware of everything, makes him want to be fully alive and not a half version of it.

At first, he thought Alec was the one who needed to let his emotions run free. He forgot that what we see in others is often a reflection of what we know about ourselves.

There was never a beast that needed to be locked away inside of him. Alec shows him that. Every night and every day, his wonderful angel takes that pain in his careful hands and cradles it until it feels loved again, soothed.

It’s barely dawn. The day ahead still looks dull and lonely, but the heaviness is gone.

He pictures Alec in their living room, grimacing as he finishes his coffee because it’s probably too strong, leaning on the back of their couch while reading a few reports that have been sent to him over the night.

Any minute now, he is going to come back to their bedroom. He will take extra precautions to not startle him awake, even though neither stays asleep after the other one gets up. They both know that.

He will whisper, “Magnus, Magnus, I’m leaving,” and Magnus will open one eye, then two, smiling back at him. His grinning nephilim will come closer to kiss him good-bye. His hands, then his forearms will sink into the mattress either side of Magnus’s head. They’ll start laughing because he can rarely stop himself from tickling Alec’s ribs, and he knows there’s no such thing as not hearing that laugh today.

This morning should feel heavy.

And yet, the autumn light filtering through the shutters seems to be a little more golden than usual, the birds nesting on the roof sing something his centuries-old heart has long memorized, and the air he breathes takes up more space in his lungs, making him feel weightless.

When the door opens to Alec’s smiling face, he forgets everything.

It’s a beautiful day.

“Did I wake you?” he asks.

In a few strides, he is kneeling by his side, laying his hands on Magnus’s forearm. They are cold, he must have just washed them. Magnus almost says something about it because isn’t it endearing and miraculous? He isn’t sure he knows why something so simple makes him so happy, so emotional, but it does.

“No, my heart. I was already awake.”

A shudder of pleasure coils up around his spine when their lips wish each other a good morning in a tender kiss, when their breath mingles in laughter that fills Magnus with joy.

“So, I was thinking,” Alec pauses, happiness banishing the constant stress from his features, giving him back the youth the Clave stole from him. “Maybe we could plan a day off soon? Like very soon? I’ve heard of this ephemeral café that opened in Central Park, and I’d like to take you there, pretend to be mundanes… I like it when we do that, it’s fun.”

“An ephemeral café in Central Park, huh? How fancy of you.” Tilting Alec’s chin, Magnus kisses his cheek, feeling a slight tremor in his gesture.

For what must be the thousandth time since this wonderful being entered his life, Magnus marvels at all the ways Alec can affect him. His first reflex is to hide it, maybe tease Alec about how he could have found out about this café. Probably from Simon. It sounds like him and Magnus knows Alec is growing fonder of the vampire. It would be easy to avert Alec’s attention to this, make him roll his eyes in this fake-annoyed way he mastered a long time ago… But he can’t. For some reason, nothing comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t want to take Alec’s attention away from this moment, from him. Magnus wants to be right there with Alec. Genuine and whole, too much to handle, too many emotions, and too much love. Himself.

It doesn’t scare him. The realization brings tears to his eyes, and Alec kisses them away.

“I learned from the best.”

It takes a few seconds for Magnus to realize what Alec is replying to.

“So, what do you say?”

“I’d love to. I like having fun and being fancy with you.”

“Good,” Alec keeps gently cradling his face, wiping more invisible tears.

Magnus can tell he wants to ask about them, wants to ask about all that mess in his head, even though he is sure Alec wouldn’t call it that way. He wants to let him ask those questions, wants to see the day when he will be as open as possible with Alec. So instead of shaking his head, Magnus smiles.

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither… We’ll talk more about it tonight, okay? I should go.”

“I might be home late.”

“I’ll wait.”

Alec kisses him and Magnus knows he shouldn’t grip his shirt this tight, but he does because it makes Alec giggle against his mouth. There’s no better feeling than that.

*

A little while later, when Magnus is getting ready, he catches sight of a note on their kitchen counter next to a cup of coffee.

I think I got it right this time… Let me know tonight. Have a good day, I love you.

He doesn’t know what is faster, his large grin or the tranquil waves of endearment and love surging inside of him. With a snap of his fingers, he warms up the cup and takes a sip. It’s perfect.

Closing his eyes, he savors the last minutes of quiet of his day before too much noise, too many problems to solve, too many people to talk to, before the sweet relief of Alec’s arms later tonight. Before what makes every day worth living through.

Magnus wishes he could talk to all the former versions of himself.

The ones desperate for a human connection that would last more than a night, more than a month, more than a few years. More than a lifetime. The ones that didn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel, the ones craving a quick and painless demise, the ones wondering where this would all lead him. The ones who only saw darkness ahead.

He wants to tell them that it gets better, that it’s all worth it, that today, all he sees is the love of his life, his answer to everything.

Even when he looks back, all he sees in his story are all the plot twists and unbearable cliffhangers that will lead him to his Alexander. All the reasons why their stories fit so well together. Every question finding an answer.

Maybe he had to go through all those centuries to get to this life, maybe he had to pay for his ancestors’ sins first. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe everything could have been different, and they would have still ended up here.

It doesn’t matter.

It used to matter, but it doesn’t anymore.

Because a new story started being written when their paths crossed. Their story.

It’s all that matters now.

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 1

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go... 

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2770

Part One: Faced with Foolishness

         “Well, you know Tessa, she’s being Tessa,” Antha murmured into her phone as she watched her twin sister cozy up to her flavor of the month; Tessa flipped her box braids off her shoulder, the beaded ends flirtatiously tinkling against every surface they met. As if watching a photo negative version of herself, Antha mourned her nonexistent reputation. Had she not spent years hiding in her books she may have been able to rival her uninhibited doppelganger in white hot-pants.

        “Why do you let her do this to you? It never goes as planned, and next thing you know I’ll be cleaning you two up and feeding you McDonald’s at two thirty in the morning!” She didn’t need facetime to picture Doug wincing through the phone, pushing his Buddy Holly styled Ray-Bans up the bridge of his nose.

        “So what you’re saying is how could I let Tessa do this to you?” She laughed, rolling her Havana twists through her fingers to fight off the June humidity. Talking to her best friend helped her forget just how long she had been holding it in line to the bathroom.

         “Ant, look I don’t like that bar—you want me to come get you?”

         “And leave her? I can’t do that—listen, if we don’t call you for a ride home by midnight just come get us. I’m exhausted and I don’t think she will party that long. Besides, you-know-who just showed up.” She watched as Franco the Flake appeared, wasting no time to linger over her sister—Tessa’s flavor of the month, forgotten within an instant. Antha’s eyes rolled like marbles as she turned away to better hear her friend on the phone; some fraternity boys nearby began fist-pumping into the air as the bartender served up a line of shots for them.

         “Ugh, the Flake… well I can hear things are getting started on your end—I’ll keep my phone on me, just don’t drive. Leave her car and I’ll get you two—there’s maniacs out there especially on Friday night.” He warned.

        “I owe you,” she groaned and hung up. Antha finally arrived in the ladies’ room, only two women away from her sweet release. She watched as the women cornered the mirror like crazed wanton things, bending and zhuzhing, adjusting their “girls” to their perkiest potential through scantily low apparel.

        “Heeeyy…” She quietly greeted the woman that exited the nearest stall. The stranger gave her a haughty elevator eye from head to toe making her feel severely underdressed for a Friday night out. When she threw on a sun dress today, she never anticipated her sister would abduct her after class and have them gallivanting across town. Tessa’s exact words were “Godamnit Ant, tonight we’re gonna have fun if it kills us!” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she floored the accelerator of her Neon, then cranked up the bass as the radio station started their basement remixes. Fun if it kills us.

        Antha stared at her white sandals, her nail polish was chipped and at least three weeks old. Then she looked to her messenger bag hanging on the back of the door. It was covered in Community College film badges and club stickers, per her friend’s preferences. Antha liked her graffitied messenger bag. Like a billboard, it made her appear she had a life outside of her graduate studies.

        She should have been at home, text books spread on her lap, feet up. She could hear Doug’s old Buick coughing its way up Momma’s drive, then fumbling outside the door, trying to knock with a third of Popov, case of Dogfish Head, and pizza in his arms. Then he would throw everything on the coffee table and announce “I brought Casablanca!” to which she would say “Oh, more white people movies?” and unphased, he would reply “Good god woman, it’s not Birth of a Nation!” Antha smiled, thinking of their weekly ritual of pretending to do research while gossiping long into the night until Zoey and Tessa would drunkenly Uber home. The distinct shamble, like the walking dead, would scrape up the gravel drive signaling their arrival.

        “Hey, you almost done in there?” An annoyed voice yelled over the door, cutting through her reminiscing. Antha could see the reds of the stranger’s eyes between the door crack.

         Instead of lounging on the couch surrounded by good beer and even better friends, Antha found herself being hustled by some Fireball-turned-up twat—all under the guise of having fun. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She replied and flushed. She tightened the belt holding in the billowy fabric of her flowy, mid-thigh, sunflower-printed sundress. It was passed down from her grandmother to her mother and so on. Looking like she walked off the set of a 90’s music video, she admitted that at least she was cooler than the other girls sweating in their skin-tight jeans and heels.

        Some pretty young thing burst through the door past the line and vomited into the trash bin next to Antha while she washed her hands. It was only nine o’clock. That was a bad omen. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she realized she pouted just like Momma in those sorts of situations. She dampened a paper towel for the poor thing and could hear her mother’s words repeating in her head: “When you’re faced with foolishness—you take care of it.” Her mantra: Take care of it. Antha’s mantra: Do what Momma says. Tessa’s mantra: If it ain’t fun don’t do it.

        Antha applied her vanilla lip gloss as she thought on her mother. She made a promise as Momma was lowered in the ground that they would graduate. It was her dying wish that the twins became modern women with college degrees and to have options; to escape the laboring of farming and perhaps even the rinse and repeat of corporate Delaware. That’s all there was in their state: Farming or banking.

        She tucked her shoulder-length braids behind her ears; she truly missed her dreadlocks, but ever since the time Tessa’s boyfriend mistook her for his girlfriend, she cut them off. She was always the one to compromise. Not tonight she decided. Tonight was going to go her way. They would wrap up this foolishness by midnight.

        Antha sighed and knew it was time to face the havoc of the bar when a chatty patron pawed at her sundress asking if it was “vintage”. She replied, “Well it’s old as hell if that’s what you mean,” and hurried out the ladies’ room into the sweltering cacophony of nightlife.

        Fighting across sticky tile and sweaty rednecks she made a beeline for the bartender. “Mar, can I get two?” She bounced on her tip-toes to cut through the crowd huddled around the length of the tacky wooden bar. Maria motioned to the other side because she couldn’t reach through. Antha continued to fight her way through the herd. She could barely hear over the din of the 2016 campaign commercials and sportscasting when Maria slid two cocktails toward her. The southern comfort and coke cocktails reeked with vanilla syrup, Tessa’s favorite. Antha stared into the melting rail drinks and realized she didn’t know what to order herself because she was always the water-boy for her twin.

        “Hey, did you see what’s-his-face is in town?” Maria interrupted her thoughts.

        “Sure did.” She groused and tilted her head in the general direction of where she saw Tessa and Franco last. Through the bodies, for a moment, the crowd parted and the two stared.

        Stepping back from her esteemed role as the older sister, by barely two minutes, Antha admitted to herself that Tessa always looked good. Her off-the-shoulder top exposed a flawless ebony collarbone, shoulder blades, and arms. As if she was the Queen of Sheba incarnate, her tiny wrists were decorated with gold bangles. Her earrings matched the beads in her hair, reflecting light in her hazel eyes. A waterfall of thick box braids fell down her back and over her shoulders, past the tops of her thighs. Her years of dance complimented the country-chic white cut-offs that revealed just a hint of under cheek when she bent across the billiard table.

        “If I were a man, I’d pray for her to bite my head off quick and painless.” Maria laughed, her ponytail frizzing from the heat of her work; her hands rapidly dipping then shining high ball glasses.

        “But that’s not her style.” Antha replied wryly.

        “You’re both good girls. Now you keep her out of as much trouble as you can—I’ll send Kyle ‘round to your table with beers, just let me catch up here!”

        Maria was right: they were good girls. All of Tessa’s shenanigans aside, she never forgot cake for a birthday and with everyone’s break-ups she always had a bottle of Jack stashed with a shoulder to cry on. Tessa was the one that painted Antha’s nails and always lent her the best outfits when the event called for it. On occasion she was even known to deliver soup when her sister ran a fever.

        Tessa was the heart of the operation and Antha couldn’t begrudge her just because she was the head.

        For better or worse, they were sisters.

        Antha reluctantly clutched the chilled drinks and felt a pang of relief in the sweltering bar. She couldn’t see her sister at the billiard table with the onslaught of shuffling patrons, so she decided to move toward her booth. She narrowly missed being covered in appletini as the DJ scratched in one more summer top ten into his rotation. Before she could move forward a voice pinned her in place.

        “Your sister’s the worst, you know that?” A nice-looking guy glared at her. His teeth gleamed pink in the red bar lights. Antha bet he had a handsome smile on account of those white teeth, but he was not smiling now. She squinted through the hazy dance floor and recognized him as the guy Tessa arrived with before Franco appeared.

         “Hey John, don’t fret, Tessa’s just catching up with an old friend—he comes into town every so often, don’t get upset.” She yelled back at his face as kindly as she could manage over the blare of the oncoming band tuning their instruments. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe her and his chest instinctively puffed up.

        “John? I’m José!” He replied. Antha felt embarrassed for both her sister and herself. She grimaced unintentionally, realizing she had said it all with very few words.

        She tried to defend their position with a weak excuse. “José, I’m bad with names and faces—” but he stormed off before she could piecemeal a string of bullshit. There goes another Mr. Last Month.

        This was having fun. Antha doing damage control on last month’s flame, while Tessa stoked a new one. All of the nice memories of her sister evaporated in the heat of the interaction. She grumbled to herself, as she had grown tired of babysitting, not just Tessa but the men-children she dated. When she finally confirmed her party’s booth, she parted the shadowy sea of basic bitches.

        Tessa was giggling like a school girl when her sister dropped the sweaty glasses onto the ratty old table. Franco at her neck like a leech. I hate this guy, Antha thought to herself. He turned his hot gaze on her, “Hi Antha, didn’t see you there.” His drawl was thick like humidity. She thought about giving her drink to Tessa’s date, but now that she could see he was it, she plopped down and selfishly sipped one of the nasty cocktails without offering the second.

        “Oh hey Brian,” she said playfully, “where’s your camera?”

        “Ant, now you know this is Franco, stop playin’!” Tessa tore her eyes away from him for a split second, but after she threw her daggers she was back ogling him like a dog does a bone.

        “Sorry, it’s hard to keep all these blue-eyed, blond, gentlemen straight.” Antha marginally resisted saying yokel under her breath.

        Tessa had a type. Beyond all logic, light eyes were the buckle in her knee, the hitch in her breath; and Franco was at the top of her list. Antha assumed he was the Porsche in her garage amongst a long list of Ford’s, but she honestly didn’t know the whole story. All she knew was that Franco showed his face sparingly and only after dark. He would disappear for weeks at a time, which earned him the endearment The Flake.

        Now, Antha hadn’t dated enough men in her young life to sort them by color and size, but Tessa had. To her credit, her tastes were diverse, she did her research and knew what she liked. No one blamed her either. With that hair and those legs, Tessa could have anyone she wanted. The great appeal of Franco didn’t add up to Antha though. She found him suspicious. She thought his truck was too loud, his jeans too torn, and his eyes much too heavy.

        Franco made idle conversation, inquiring after the twins’ classes as if he cared. His blond, three-quarter parted hair was glossy under the dim lights. When he pulled his tooth pick from the back of his ear and chewed on it, it made him look like an old-fashioned mobster—well until that Delmar twang spilled out of his hillbilly mouth. There was an allure about him; all of his parts matched, but his smile unglued those pieces. A smile that never quite reached his eyes.

        Antha found herself sizing him up, drinking the disgusting cocktail faster than she wanted. I bet he has plastic zip ties and rope in his truck bed, she thought. She didn’t truly know why the image popped into her mind, it was just a feeling she got when his eyes were on her; made her feel like a snack, as if he would eat her alive right where she sat. No more Unsolved Mysteries for me this week, she insisted to herself.

        “Mmmm-hmmm.” Was the best response she could offer when he spoke to her directly. Tessa continued chatted about her business management courses as he deeply stared at her. Antha figured there was no real room for her in the conversation so she took out her world cultures text and flipped to her last page. She liked hanging out, however her final thesis was demanding all of her energy. The page fell open to vampires in the section of Egyptian mythology. She thought how ironic as her eyes shot up at the man sitting across from her.

        “So, there’s this bonfire by Slaughter Bay, I thought you ladies could come with.” Franco suggested lazily like it was too exclusive to be excited about. “You can shotgun babe and we can put Antha and her friends in back.” He eyed the textbooks growing damp on the table. Antha finished the first SoCo and started the second just to cope with him. “You could call up the girls.”

        “Zoey… Zoey... Zoey!” Tessa dramatically said into her drink and then laughed. Antha couldn’t help but smirk as Tessa explained to him her girlfriend was like Candyman and could be summoned via a pint of beer. The joke was partially lost on Franco.

        Before Tessa could agree to go Antha piped up, a little less shy now that her liquid courage had kicked in. “Sounds awfully romantic, but we can’t.” Before she could continue she was interrupted.

        “Hey girl haaayyyy!” Zoey appeared as if out of thin air and snatched one of the beers sent over by the bartender. “You goin’ nowhere without me—not after I Ubered across town!” Her two rando friends hollering and sloshing their drinks.

        “How the hell do you do that?” Antha insisted, amazed that their friend appeared.

        “Uhhhh, never you mind—we can make bonfire plans later—its ten o’clock, I’m here and Bieber is playing! GET UP!” Zoey declared, the glitter from her eyes dusting every surface.

        “Keep an eye on my friends.” Antha told Franco as she abandoned her books to be dragged to the floor. This was the moment she decided she was getting them all out of there; she didn’t like the sound of a bonfire with him and she certainly wasn’t allowing Tessa to go on her own either. She sent a pre-written text message to Doug: “Get here.” Which was their code for its really going down, I need back up.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @plastic-heart @myraiswack @wolfpawn​

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

A Year Without - Part Two

Warnings: Mention of alleged killings and rape

The back of your skull was throbbing as you slowly became aware of your surroundings. Your hands immobile outstretched and your feet anchored to the floor. By the soft tug of rope against your wrists you had been tied not shackled. A small silver lining to the shit show that was no doubt about to happen. The light was turned down low thankfully, you didn’t know if you could handle anything brighter then what the lights were set at right now.

Testing the strength of your bonds you found them cinch tighter as you struggled. If you worked them too much they would cut off the circulation to your hands and feet, not good. Your mind began to catch up with the rest of your body and the last moments you remembered were blurry at best. Karai had talked about her fun and a reunion. Then like a bolt of lightning it hit you, the green skin and enormous physique of the blurry mass converging on you. It couldn’t be Leonardo, he wouldn’t be helping the foot, wouldn’t be serving Karai. You had to have been hallucinating from the tranquilizer dart you were dosed with.

After what seemed like hours the lights in the room finally snapped on illuminating your prison. The walls were stark white, with one obvious large two way mirror near the door to your left.A hefty arm less grey upholstered chair sat in the far left corner of the room and a large metal table in the center, fucking cozy. The size of the room was rather large, maybe twenty feet by twenty feet and the smell reminded you of a hospital, sterile but sour.

“It’s rude to leave your guest waiting!” you hollered dryly to your captures eyeing the window with contempt. It was true, you had been sitting in this awful room for at least two hours unattended, let’s get this show on the road.

The sound of the handle turning gave way to your host as she sauntered into the space like she was the queen of fucking England. Her hips swung with gusto and her smile was honey sweet. No longer in her kunoichi garb Karai was dressed in dark sapphire skirt that hit just below her knees with a slit on the side that rode up nearly to her cunt. Her white quarter sleeve blouse was partially unbuttoned leaving her small yet perky breasts visible from the low V. The long black tresses of her hair were tied loosely up above her head while the black high heels that adorned her feet clicked sinfully on the cement floor as she made her way over to you. The cherry on top that completed her arrogant demeanor was a blue lollipop stuck playfully in her mouth and a large tablet in her right hand.

“Calm down my sweet, I wanted you fully awake for this next part.” Karai cooed stepping up to you her breasts pressing up against yours. Her breath was sweet from her treat and she leaned in close, “I have something I want you to watch.” Her wet sugary tongue darted out and took a quick lick of your cheek and jumped back as you tried to head butt the offending woman.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

“Tsk, tsk, what a dirty mouth you have. I have a gift for you Y/N, a gift of knowledge that only I can give you. Knowledge you’ve been searching for, for a year’s time.”

Your defiance slammed to a halt as Karai’s wicked smile grew to a terrifying level. Popping the treat make in her mouth her slender fingers drummed on the tablet as she leaned in again her lips brushing up against your ear. “Have you been searching for someone, someone special? Someone who went missing abruptly a year ago today?”

Your blood ran cold, she was talking about Leonardo. The foot has had Leo all this time. Anger bubbled quickly to the surface your limbs trembling as it consumed you. You were going to rip her fucking face off. “Where is he?! Where are you keeping Leonardo?!”  

“How long did you look for him?” she ignored your question stepping back turning on the tablet. Her fingers flew over the smooth surface searching for something. “How far did you search, the island of Manhattan, New Jersey perhaps? Maine? Either way it wasn’t going to be far enough, after we subdued him, which took quite a few of my men I might add. God he is strong and talented, by the gods is he talented.” You didn’t like the dreamy look in her eyes. “We didn’t keep him here, oh no, we didn’t want you to find him, what fun would that have been? So, the first thing we did was sedate big bad Leonardo and tossed him on a plane to Japan. He was sent to a very special facility where we house some of our most exceptional doctors and people we have acquired over the years with special gifts, gifts of persuasion if you know what I mean? Let me tell you, he was a hard nut to crack. But we knew this from the start so a process had to be started and it began with sociological warfare when poor ol Leo came too.”

Karai flipped the tablet to show you what she had been searching for, a security tape and the main focal point was Leonardo. His battered green body was shackled to the wall covered in blood. You could see the damage they had done to him on the roof. Cuts and gouges littered his once lustrous green skin making your rage boil hotter.  His person was stripped of all his belongings except his boxer briefs leaving him unprotected and vulnerable. He was obviously sans his mask with a long deep cut that ran up the back of his skull. He struggled yanking at his metal restraints demanding to know where he was being held and to be released but he was going nowhere.

A man in a grey suit slowly approached the leader in blue and held out a picture. You watched Leo’s eyes widen in shock and shake his head vigorously, “No!” he bellowed. “You’re lying!”

“They’re all dead Leonardo. When they came to save you they were slaughtered by Karai’s men one by one. The orange one, Michelangelo I believe his name was, fell first, he was the easiest to kill, a dagger to the throat was his end. I heard he begged for his life before Karai stomped on his neck effectively finishing him off. The purple, Donatello, was second; a katana between his shell angled up through his ribs did him in. A painful way to go if you ask me drowning in his own blood. Oh how I would have loved to have gotten a hold of his brilliant mind for study. Raphael the red brute was the most difficult to kill, took nearly 20 men to get him to the ground where they slit his throat. You should have heard him gurgle and grunt as he struggled to take his last breath. Your father was the easiest to find once we hacked Donatello’s computer system. It gave us a map right to his location and was slaughtered right in his bed.”

You couldn’t be 100% sure of what the man in grey was showing Leonardo but you were pretty sure it was a photo shopped picture of his dead brothers and father. But you knew it was a lie; all three of his brothers including Splinter were alive and well no doubt oblivious to your disappearance. But the photo must have been convincing enough, even through the poor video feed you could see the tears well up in his blue eyes. You wanted to call out to him, to tell him not to listen but that would be stupid and useless,  just like you were feeling right now.

Leo shook his head angrily blinking away the tears the threatened to spill. “No, you couldn’t have. My brothers are well trained and able to defeat your inadequate soldiers. Always have and always will.”

The doctor smiled and flipped another photo forward and the look on Leo’s face made your heart wretch inside your chest. “Your girlfriend was next, of course not before the men had some fun with her. You know when she cums she made the most beautiful sounds, like an angel. She cried out for you of course, but you weren’t there to save her. What a hero you turned out to be, couldn’t save your brothers or your love. Her end was swift if that pleases you, you can tell by the angle of her neck, quick and painless yet effective. Now you’re alone in this facility with no family and no lover. No one to save you, no one who cares.”  

Karai’s finger came up and paused the video with Leo mid scream, his face contorted in horror and fury in the last frame.

“Luckily we have a very good photo shop artist on hand that created several rather convincing death photos of all of you. It took a few days but as his body weakened from the lack of food and water he gave in to the plausible story. He was inconsolable for over a month hanging listless from his confines. We let that sink in before we started in on the physical torture.” Karai turned the tablet back around ignoring the horrified look on your face. “He cried out your name for several days after that. It was heart wrenching really, and I took pleasure in each agonizing syllable he cried out.” Her green eyes rose to meet yours and her free hand reached out wiping away the tears that were staining your cheeks.  

“I’m going to kill you.” You whispered with venom uncaring that the wretched woman had her hands on you. At this point you didn’t care; you had already killed her three times in your head.

“Oh I would love to see you try my dear.” Karai giggled returning her attention back to the tablet. A few more finger swipes and she turned it back around pressing play once again. The date on the time stamp said it was a month after his abduction, his eyes hollow and uncaring still hanging from his shackles. You could tell he had lost weight, in mass and in muscle. They must not been feeding him much.

Three men came into view all holding tazer sticks, their smiles wild with amusement. The first touched the hot end to the exposed side of Leo’s body between his plastron and carapace but Leo only shifted in his shackles groaning softly. Angered by the lack of his response, the other two men followed suit going in tandem shocking different parts of his skin. This time Leo arched crying out in pain. Over and over they attacked him all at once, Leo’s howls of anguish echoing in the empty room.

You wished the video didn’t have sound; the unnatural bellow of his agony would haunt you for however long they allowed you to live. The sight of his body recoiling from the current made you sick to your stomach. He had been here for a year enduring this torture, day in and day out. You weren’t there to help him, none of you were. He suffered alone with these animals, these heartless demons.

Again Karai stopped the feed and dropped the tablet back to her side and chomped down on the lollipop in her mouth finishing it off quickly. “You get the idea right? We put him through hell and broke him; we broke the legendary Leonardo; the man with the plan, the untouchable mutant. He was ours to mold, to retrain as we sought fit. It took longer than we expected, he was strong willed but no one can resist the charm of Dr. Langston for long. But Leo does hold the record for withstanding his treatments the longest. Dr. Langston was impressed to say the least.” The kunoichi laughed swinging away from you to walk back over to the door and knock twice. “He’s an obedient foot soldier now, and my favorite if I might add. But I’ll let you be the judge of that.” As the last words fell from her cherry red lips the door opened slowly.

Out of the darkened doorway he came, each step he took was of power and arrogance. Gone was his usual wear, replaced with jet black pants and specially made foot wear. Wide black leather wraps encompassed his thick forearms traveling up to intertwine with his three fingered hands. His blue katanas given to him by his father were absent replaced by two loosely hung red twin katana tied to his hip. Each shoulder had metal plates over them stamped with the Foot’s emblem and to complete the sinister look a black mask was worn where the blue once laid.

“Leonardo please don’t be rude, please go greet our new guest.”

As he closed in you saw his once brilliant cerulean blue eyes dulled to a grayish blue, the life once aflame in his stare was gone. There was no honor in his gaze as he looked you over like a piece of meat. No empathy and certainly no love for you. What had they done to him?

The last video you were forced to endure Leo looked frail and broken but that look was long gone. His muscle mass had returned leaving him looking toned and threatening. With each move of his body the muscle flexed and pulsed under his scaled skin making your body start to ache. If you had seen him in any other circumstance you would have though he looked good, good enough to eat.

“Leo?” you called tentatively tugging slightly on your bonds. Would he remember you at all?

As he neared you could tell the change in his smell. The hint of tea and incense was long gone overpowered by the stench of death and steel. His dull eyes narrowed in on you getting too close for comfort. His hand reached up cupping your chin tilting your head to and fro examining your face before his lips parted gifting you with the first sweet sound of his voice in a year.

“What a pretty little toy you’ve got Karai. Is she one of the reasons I was summoned to this country?”

The sound of Karai’s heals echoed throughout the room as she crossed over to the both of you. Her hands ran seductively down the dense muscles in his arms and pressed her lips to the tattoo there.

“Yes my love, she is a gift to you from me. This sweet little creature stole the other three of your kind from our master brainwashing them. And if she knows what’s good for her, she will tell us where they hide. But first I think it would be prudent to play with your gift. After all what good is a toy if you can’t play with it?”

“What do you think we should do first?” Leo clipped sinisterly squeezing your chin painfully tight in his massive grasp.

Karai’s ivory hand snaked up and around his thick neck tilting his head towards hers, “This one will lie and tell you that you once loved her, but let’s show her who you really belong too.” Her fingers twirled around the tails of his black mask and Leo leaned into her, his mouth slanted enthusiastically over hers. She immediately opened her mouth giving his tongue access making a show of it leaving you helpless to watch the love of your life kiss another woman.

Part One

@southernblossoms @blossom-skies @imthegreenfairy88

[sad-trash-writing]

Bite Me, Ch. 4

AO3 Link

Death wasn’t as permanent—or as painless—as Daisy had been led to believe. She drifted back into consciousness, long enough to figure out that she was in a foreign room, before the heavy lure of unconsciousness pulled her back. Several times, she drifted awake, but never managed to keep her eyes open for long. The first time, she picked up more details of the room. It was dimly lit and homey, but nowhere she had ever seen before.

The second time she picked up the hazy sound of voices talking nearby. One sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t make out words. Just mutterings. The next time there was someone standing by her bed, fiddling with things. The world seemed clearer, but she must still be groggy, because the woman by her appeared to have two small horns curling out of her head. The woman saw her and smiled. 

“Glad to see you’re finally awake. I’ll let your friends know,” she said. 

Daisy tried to ask, 'What the actual hell?' but her eyes slid closed involuntarily and she fell back asleep.

Finally, she woke up fully, though she wasn’t sure that was actually an improvement on unconsciousness. Her arms still burned like they were hovering over a fire and every breath sent a dull ache through her chest. 

Daisy also realized she wasn’t alone. Two people were in her room talking in hushed tones. One of the voices was very familiar by this point.

Jemma. 

Daisy forced her eyes open and was again greeted by the unfamiliar, but cozy room. The two voices immediately hushed once they noticed her. 

“Daisy? Oh, thank god you’re finally awake,” Jemma said. 

Daisy had a thousand questions running through her head. What happened? How did you find me? Where am I? Wait, finally?!

“How long have I been out?” Daisy asked.

Jemma frowned. “About three and a half days. We were starting to get concerned.”

We?

Daisy finally noticed the source of the other voice: it was Professor Coulson. “How are you feeling today, Daisy?” he asked.

Daisy cocked an eyebrow. “Like I got hit by a bus. No offense, Coulson, but why—”

“In addition to teaching in the history department, I’m one of the guidance counselors for students in the Erebus school. Given your unique situation, I felt it would be a good idea to be here to give you some information,” Coulson replied smoothly. “It doesn’t have to be immediately, though. You are still recovering.”

“Trust me, I’m more than ready for information,” Daisy replied. 

She tried to push herself up into a sitting position, but winced at the stabbing pain in her chest. 

Jemma darted to her side. “Careful! You have two fractured ribs.”

Jemma helped carefully slide Daisy into a more dignified position (as dignified as she could be in her loose hospital gown and bulkily bandaged arms) and she waited for Coulson to begin. 

“Jemma informed me that you’re already somewhat aware of our school’s…situation when it comes to our student body,” he stated. Jemma fidgeted with her hands and looked at the floor. “That’s unusual in its own right, but given your recent incident, we need to have a bit of a different conversation.”

Daisy didn’t like the sound of that. 

Coulson continued anyway. “I’m sure you can piece together that it was not a normal animal that attacked you. It was one of the students in our werewolf pack. We know of all the werewolves that attend this school and, rest assured, the perpetrator who attacked you will be discovered and properly disciplined. However—”

Of course, he couldn’t have left it at that.

“I’m sure you know that werewolf bites tend to carry certain…side effects. Unlike most interpretations in popular culture, it’s not a sure thing, though. There hasn’t been a lot of research on what causes the change, but there seems to be some genetic component.”

“So, that means…what exactly?” Daisy asked. 

Jemma cut in. “Essentially, if the specific genetic markers that enable the wolf transformation aren’t present in a person, the bite of a werewolf will have no effect on an individual. Other than some minor scarring of course,” she finished, hopefully. 

Daisy blinked a few times to process. “So what your saying is…I won’t turn into a werwolf unless I’m already a werewolf?”

Coulson and Jemma glanced at each other. “That’s one way of putting it.” Coulson shrugged. 

“How do we know for sure?” Daisy replied. 

Jemma and Coulson shared another glance. They really needed to stop doing that or Daisy was going to scream. 

“Unfortunately, we won’t know until the next full moon. If you don’t transform, then you’re in the clear. If you do—” Coulson trailed off.

“I get to have another monthly curse to worry about forever. Got it,” Daisy finished. She was trying to keep herself from freaking out, but this was a lot to take in for only being awake for about ten minutes. 

“We still have a few weeks before we have to think about that. When it gets closer to the full moon, we’ll have to discuss some things in greater detail. For now we have another issue to discuss.

“Normally, all of our non-human students live in Knight Hall at the edge of campus on a floor with members of similar species. Given your in-between status currently, we’re not quite sure where to put you. Your normal dorm won’t work in case of an incident, but we don’t want to prematurely move you in with the pack—” Coulson said. 

“She can stay with me,” Jemma blurted. “I have plenty of space in my apartment. I can keep an eye on her while she heals and gradually introduce her to the other half of the student population. If she does end up unchanged, she can be just like our other human confidants, and if not she’ll already be familiar with the department.”

Coulson nodded as he considered this. “Daisy, do you have any issue with that arrangement?”

Daisy shook her head. “Um…I’ll need to tell my roommate I’m moving out.”

“We’ll make sure she knows.”

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

Daisy was forced to stay in the clinic a few days more to make sure her bite marks were healing. She quickly learned that, since this was a private clinic for the non-human students at the university, it was considerably nicer than an average hospital. Also, her nurse was a satyr, so that was fun. Jemma outright laughed at the face Daisy made when she realized she hadn’t been hallucinating the horns. 

When she was finally allowed to check out of the clinic, Jemma came to walk her to her apartment that Daisy would be staying in for the next month. Whatever reservations Daisy might have about bunking with a vampire were quickly forgotten when Daisy remembered that she might be a werewolf in a month. She was still unsure why Jemma was being so hospitable towards her when they barely knew each other (though, when she thought about it, she didn’t know much about her previous roommate, Bobbi, other than that she was a biology student and had a sizable sword collection that Daisy stumbled upon when looking for her liquor stash). 

Still, Daisy didn’t seem to have many options at this point and she wasn't going to turn down Jemma. She was starting to really like her. 

Daisy followed Jemma to the far side of campus towards a set of historic buildings. They walked beyond the buildings along a wrought-iron fence that seemed to enclose the whole campus until they came to a massive brick building with stone gargoyles on each corner. Out of the corner of Daisy’s eye, she swore she saw one of the gargoyles move. 

Jemma tapped an ID card on a panel near the door, which beeped and then slid open. The inside of the apartment building was nicer than any dorm Daisy had ever seen. Marble lined the walls up to the arched ceiling that seemed to extend continuously in all directions. Plush armchairs and couches formed a spacious common area, which was currently empty. 

A man sat at an ornate desk near the door and watched them with hawk-like eyes as they strolled towards the elevator. 

Jemma lived on the top floor. Daisy prayed that the elevator wouldn’t stop on any other floor on the way up. She really wasn’t prepared to deal with more supernatural nonsense today, especially when her legs were still shaking from having not supported her weight in nearly a week.

Luckily, they arrived on Jemma’s floor without incident. It was eerily quiet for a dorm. Normally, in Daisy’s building, there were students out at all hours, inventing new ways to surf down the halls or ding-dong-ditching their friends. Though, Daisy kept forgetting this wasn’t a normal dorm. 

Jemma noticed Daisy’s confusion. “I’m the only vampire who currently goes here. Since it’s separated by floor, I get this whole wing to myself.”

“Huh. Must be nice,” Daisy replied. She thought about how nice it might be to not have anyone making noise while she was trying to study for her history test.

  “It can be. It gets a bit lonely, though.”

Jemma swung the door open into her room. It was much larger than the average dorm and had a small sectioned off kitchen and living room area. The furniture looked like a mismatched set of items that were found at various garage sales, like an average college student’s living space. The only thing that immediately made the room look strange were the heavy blackout curtains draped over every window. 

“Bedroom’s this way,” Jemma announced, “I put your things in there already and the bottom set of drawers in the dresser is open for you.”

“What? I’m not going to kick you out of your room. I can sleep on the couch,” Daisy protested. 

“Nonsense, you’re my guest for the next month. Besides, I don’t sleep that much anyway,” Jemma replied, waving Daisy off. 

Daisy wanted to protest further, but another part of Jemma’s statement caught her attention. “Wait, my things?”

Jemma pushed open the bedroom door and Daisy saw a small stack of boxes with most of the things from her dorm room. Stuck to one of them was a small post-it note with a note that said, 'Get well soon -Bobbi.'

“Bobbi helped pack up most of your things when we told her about your situation,” Jemma said, “She was sad to hear you were moving out, but she understood it was for the best.”

Daisy smiled. Maybe once all this werewolf business cleared up, she could move back into the dorm. For now, though, she was eyeing the giant, plush-looking bed that took up the majority of Jemma’s room. So this building is where all that tuition money is going, she thought.

“I’ll let you get settled in. We could go get some dinner in a few hours if you’d like,” Jemma said. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Daisy replied. 

Daisy waited until Jemma slipped out of the room and then flopped on the cushy bed and nestled in.