#love! truth! beauty! the bitch is coughing up blood!!!!!

[giantkillerjack]

Moulin Rouge: a man obsessed with his love for a sex worker is shocked that she would engage in sex work and also somehow misses that the woman he loves has tuberculosis until she literally dies of it.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 莲花楼/Mysterious Lotus Casebook

Mysterious Lotus Casebook is a 2023 drama about a beautiful twunk who just wants to die of his chronic illness in peace, except that neither the dumbass purebred dog of a man who has decided they're best friends now nor the jock begging him for a rematch are going to let him go without a fight (in the latter's case, literally).

Also they ride around in a magical bamboopunk RV.

I have referred to it elsewhere as "the CW presents: Nirvana in Fire," and I stand by that assessment. (I orginally called it Tiger Beat Nirvana in Fire, before realizing that Kids These Days will not get that reference. Shout out to the other elder millennials in the audience!)

There's been a lot of English-speaking fandom buzz about this show, to the point where if you're in these circles, I'm sure you've heard about it before. I know I had by the time I started watching -- which left me largely unprepared for the actual viewing experience, because the parts of the show that fans talk about are not a representative sample of the show itself.

This drama can be a good time. It's fun to watch. It has some hilarious beats and also some emotional moments. It spent its not-huge budget very smartly, and as such is generally quite lovely to look at. As my League of Nobleman rec will attest, I appreciate raw materials, and this is a show that has some fascinating raw materials.

(Or some materials that need to get rawed, take your pick.) (Also, it's not my fault they didn't do a dramatically lit Fang Duobing shot so I could round out the trio here.)

You'll find some people out there who've gone real hard for this show, doing some deep analyses and getting really emotional over it. I don't want my gentle ribbing to give the impression that those silly fans are delusionally talking like the show's a five-star restaurant when it's really just a fast food joint. Not so! There's a reason it's captivated a whole lot of people! And in case you might be one of those, allow me to give you five reasons you should consider watching it.

1. This bitch

The main character, Li Lianhua/Li Xiangyi is probably 50% of the show's appeal all by himself. He's fascinating. He's gender. He's fashion. He's been afflicted with a substance we called "bitch poison" the whole time we were watching. He has many emotions. He cries a lot. He coughs up blood every other episode. Cheng Yi is putting his whole lianhuassy into this performance, and it shows.

I made the Nirvana in Fire comparison earlier, and I stand by it for a lot of reasons, but the truth is that he's actually much more Opposite Day Mei Changsu: Li Lianhua wants all this stuff to fuck off and leave him alone forever. He is not seeking vengeance, nor does he particularly want to Do Schemes, but Circumstances keep dragging him back into the thick of all this nonsense he thought he left behind when he (mostly) died ten years ago.

The thing is, he used to be a real dick back when he was a kid. And I mean a real dick. He was a dick to his chronically insecure adoptive older brother. He was a dick to his girlfriend with the personality of wet tissue paper. He was a dick to the handsome loser who liked his girlfriend. He was a dick to his followers. He was basically just a cocky little shithead who thought he was the best at everything -- and he actually was the best at everything, which just made it worse.

Li Xiangyi used to think everything (especially himself) was sooooo important, and now that life has massively kicked his ass, Li Lianhua had come around to the position that nothing is actually that important, so let's just all chill and grow vegetables. He doesn't want a rematch. He doesn't want to retake his rightful place as the head of anything. He just wants to pay his respects to the dead before he joins them.

Now will everybody please just stop moving into his house.

2. goof-ass jianghu nonsense (affectionate)

As I mentioned earlier, everything I'd seen about the show on Tumblr had still left me absolutely unprepared for what a silly ride it is. Because it's silly. Hoo boy, is it silly. My wife dubbed it "lace front Phoenix Wright," just to give you a metric for how silly we're talking. Ace Detective Fang Duobing never cross-examined a parrot, but I feel he came close.

This show has some serious goof-ass jianghu nonsense -- you know, the sort of stuff that's impossible and ridiculous, except everybody’s going to treat it like it's just a normal part of existence. Here's a short and certainly inexhaustive list:

mind-controlling bugs

other bugs that control the mind-controlling bugs

ex-conjoined twins

a grown-ass man who can compress himself into bitchy third-grader

grave-robbing societies with secret brag language

so much nonconsensual qi-blocking performed by poking people in the boobs, that can't be safe, everybody wear thicker shirts

magical crossdressing powers

a bad guy who looks like this

a princess who can get abducted and sex-trafficked and, like, nobody really notices? huh.

healing childhood paralysis by the power of believing in yourself

a ... hallucination pit? what was that, anyway?

so. many. mechanisms.

the equivalent of the "he's only mostly dead" business from the Princess Bride

a gradually lethal bookshelf

the strange amnesia everyone suffers from where a dude can cover maybe 30% of his face and render himself immediately unrecognizable to long-time friends and associates

The thing is: I think this goof-ass jianghu nonsense is a legitimate selling point. I found it so fun. I turned off my need for show elements to obey little things like the laws of physics, and I had a good time. It can be a very funny drama, in part because it knows how silly a lot of its shit is, and it chooses to go full speed ahead with a sincere heart. If you are down for some shounen absurdity, you are in for a treat.

However:

2.2. goof-ass jianghu nonsense (derogatory)

I'm granting myself a sub-point here, because this is an important qualifier for the previous point.

I'm going to assume, based on what I've seen from fan responses, that many of the people who really like this show actually don't like the goof-ass jianghu nonsense. They are here for the BL vibes (after all, there are three cute boys who alll have some intense emotions about one another), and therefore downplay all the parts that aren't that. I want to make it clear that this is not a bad thing to do. There are many, many properties where I myself fixate on a single element and toss the rest into the sea. No judgment here.

However, since this is a post written to convine you to watch something, I want to make it clear what you're going to get if you dive in. If you're one of those people who skips scenes and/or entire episodes when your ship of choice isn't onscreen, you're probably going to be doing that a lot here. (I mean, I can't imagine doing this, but Tumblr has taught me that fandom is a rich tapestry.) The bones are good, but the connective tissue can be questionable.

The main thing I wish I'd known before starting is that the mysteries are not the selling point. They are the celery that gets the cute boy peanut butter to your mouth. You, the viewer, absolutely cannot solve them; you're never given enough context or information to keep up with the detective lads, much less get ahead of them. Everyone does everything in the most convoluted way possible, to the point of comic absurdity. Finding out whodunnit is rarely that satisfying, because too often the culprit is Jianghu Steve, You Know, That Guy Over There With The Superpower The Characters All Know About But You'd Never Heard Of Before Thirty Seconds Ago.

The goof-ass jianghu nonsense feels like the place where the show I see fans talking about least lines up with the show that actually exists. And I think that's a shame, because I think the show that actually exists is actually a good time! It's just, you know ... silly.

3. Whenever Di Feisheng's not onscreen, all the other characters should be asking, 'Where's Di Feisheng?

This drama gets sold like it's the adventures of three guys together. (Hell, I kind of did it myself in the intro.) This is not the case. This is the tale of two guys who do most of the plot stuff near one another, and their occasional third, Di Feisheng.

This is a 40-episode series and I swear this guy's onscreen for maybe 15% of the time -- and for half of that, he's just off doing his own thing anyway. He disappears entirely for huge chunks of the series, which is a crime, because he is my absolute favorite.

He is the rare grumpy himbo. He doesn't just have resting bitchface, he has bitchface for all occasions. He somehow has bitchface even during the rare moments he actually smiles. He's got a whole traumatic backstory, but the traumatic backstory is not the reason for the bitchface. He's Just Like That.

(Important to note that the actor himself only slightly has a resting bitchface. Xiao Shunyao can look normal and indeed quite pleasant. He has simply leaned into it real hard for this grouch.)

The one -- one -- reason I can accept his being gone for so ding-dang much of the show is how often he re-emerges with perfect, hilarious timing. Thank goodness the show realizes how much comedic potential his character has, because his unexpected entrances are some of the best laugh-out-loud moments of the series. If the show had taken Di Feisheng as seriously as Di Feisheng takes himself, he would have been unbearable. As it is, he's an unmitigated delight.

While you losers were being heterosexual, he studied the blade.

He makes the perfect foil for both Fang Duobing, who's the human equivalent of a puppy trying to gnaw an elephant to death, and Li Lianhua, who just wants to be excused from this narrative. Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing are basically two dogs fighting over their favorite toy, and their favorite toy is Li Lianhua, who really wishes he weren't. Some of the most compelling and fun moments of the series are when these three losers are all together.

And these three losers are barely all together.

This show is Not Danmei. It's so Not Danmei that I had a tremendously difficult time while making this post finding either official images or screencaps with even two of them in frame at the same time, much less all three. It is, however, a Danmei Starter Kit. I mean, the tag on AO3 has, at present, 742 works in it (283 in English). That's just since July! There are years-old c-drama shows that have a fraction of that fan output! And I'm willing to bet a big reason why is how little the very intense boys with ridiculously compelling interpersonal dynamics actually interact onscreen.

But, I hear you asking, why would less of what the fans want equal more fan goo? Well, friends, that's exactly what the fan goo is for: filling in the blanks. And this here show has a lot of blanks. Look, I've made a very scientific diagram (that many people seem to agree with) about how this all works:

The Hump of Compelling Mediocrity is the place where the amount of stuff worth thinking about far outpaces what the show actually contains of said stuff textually. It is the ideal location for imagination adventures.

Di Feisheng and Li Lianhua's relationship in particular lives right in the middle of that hump, what with the huge gaps in their backstory and all. They are a pair made entirely of unanswered questions. What the hell is going on there? What's their whole history, beyond the big fight? Why are they like this about one another? The show refuses to say. Whatever you imagine, you're correct. Now go tell AO3 about it.

interlude: God's perfect dipshit

I feel like I'm engaging in Fang Duobing erasure in the rest of this post, since he's not at the tip of any of the points I'm making, so I'm going to add a picture of him here, because I love him and want to pinch his perfect little cheeks.

You know what I am shocked by? How the MLC/DMBJ reincarnation fics apparently have not taken hold yet. I give it another two months.

4. IT HAS A DOG

FOX SPIRIT, MY SWEET BABY

'You mean the dog gets a whole selling point to himself' yes the dog gets a whole selling point to himself, because he is a very good dog and a very good boy (and his actor is a very good girl)

Apparently he has a whole backstory in the novel that never gets included in the drama, including an explanation of why he's named "Fox Spirit," if you feel like going and reading up on that.

Sadly, Fox Spirit is in the show even less than Di Feisheng is, and that is a crime, because he could have solved all these silly human mysteries in thirty minutes flat, Wishbone-style.

Dogs are so good.

5. One bad, bad girl

Do you like an unhinged villainess? Someone who's been sucking down Crazy Juice since beat one? Because oh boy, this show's got one of those for you.

Jiao Liqiao wants two things: to rule the world, and to make Di Feisheng her pretty little housewife. And whomst among us does not understand these two impulses?

She's not even the Big Bad! She's mostly just Di Feisheng's personal nightmare. She is the type of woman for whom the phrase "he's just not that into you" was coined. You've got everyone around her telling her, honey, I don't even think I've ever seen him look at a pair of breasts, while she's already planned their whole wedding menu and reserved the venue.

She has spent the last ten years of Di Feisheng's extended vacation making sure she's the one who's actually in charge, functioning as the point person for all the other evil schemes going on. Instead of handing over the reins upon her himbo boss' return, she's just going to keep doing what she's good at. As long as he keeps doing exactly what she wants him to do, she's gonna let him do it. If he gets out of line, well, there's always Plan B (the B stands for Breaking all of his tendons and making the world's surliest RealDoll).

I love the fact that she's so obviously evil, and he can't see it. To a certain point, it's not his fault -- everyone who serves under him is pretty obviously evil, so that doesn't make her special. But she's real evil even above and beyond that, and his dumb ass can't stop thinking about Li Lianhua long enough to notice any of the hundred or so knives she's aimed right at his back. He's so uninterested in her constant advances that he doesn't register how wanting to fuck someone and wanting to overthrow someone are not mutually exclusive desires.

(Was I bothered throughout most of the series by how her lipstick should be a little more crimson and a little less coral? Yes, but I'm not going to hold it against her. She's busy doing evil stuff. She'll get over to the nearest Jianghu Sephora and restock one of these days.)

While the show occasionally sidelines or straight-up forgets about a lot of its supporting characters for several episodes at a time, it never forgets to check in on what Jiao Liqiao's up to. Claws out, hair done, she is at all times a constant glorious, scenery-chewing menace with excellent taste in terrible men. Absolute legend.

Bonus: These two sluts

They don't get to be a full point because they're not nearly in the show enough, but just look at them. This is peak male character design. Slutty undone hair and slutty bare forearms, be still my bisexual heart.

Going to give it a try?

iQiyi's got you exclusively, baby.

Have I sounded a little defensive in this rec? Yeah, probably. It's just that I know there's a big and pretty intense fandom out there for this already, and I feel like a jerk coming in and being like "sure, it's fun!" when people are posting about how it made them cry for weeks. I want to be clear that that's not a bad reaction to have, while at the same time also being clear that that's not the reaction I had.

I might not even have written this rec, had I not been nudged to -- not because I don't think it's worth watching (I clearly do!), but because I don't know how much help it needs from the likes of me. There are plenty of other evangelists out there that'll give much more enthusiastic recommendations (like this one).

But the truth is that not every show has to be a heartbreaking work of staggering genius to everyone. I watched the show, and I liked it, and I had a normal time.

I also think there's something to the way I watched it, which was: one episode per day, schedule permitting, such that it took nearly two months for me to finish it. (And before you think I singled MLC out for this, this is actually how I watch most c-dramas.) I bet binging it is a way different experience, one where what rises more readily to the top is the tragic throughline of Li Lianhua's whole deal. If you're inclined to skip things not immediately germane to your points of interest, this is definitely the show to take at a solid run.

I actually paused in the middle of making this rec and made the one for the Blood of Youth, because the two invite comparisons: jianghu tales with chronically ill protagonists, some imperial bullshit going on, pretty boys with swords being weird about one another. Mysterious Lotus Casebook did not grab me as hard as the Blood of Youth, because MLC went for a more understated take on all its nonsense, instead of shooting completely over the top, which is how I prefer my nonsense (as the record will show). If you take your silliness with a subtler flavor, this could be the perfect thing for you.

Maybe you'll wind up being one of those people who gets their whole insides totally ripped out by this drama! But even if you don't, you're probably going to have a good time watching it anyway. And really, what more can you ask for from a show than that?

Peace, nerds.

[borntobekings]

Your face, your race, the way that you talk–  I kiss you, you’re beautiful, I want you to walk DAVID BOWIE

I cheated myself Like I knew I would– I told you I was trouble, You know that I'm no good AMY WINEHOUSE

the fortuneteller’s breakup poem

The time you spent this spring planting grains of enchanted stardust in the capillaries of my lungs with every kiss (where the force of your everything swept them into my heart and they latched on inside its ventricles and bloomed,  scented with ozone and perfume musk, into full-fledged inferno vampire supernovas suckling on my psychic energy with the pulse of their eternal self-annihilating explosions every time you showed me a scar on your heart and told me its story),  

all the while hoping I would cough up enough stellar gold to pay off your emotional debt to yourself in a single lump sum of true love,

would have been better spent tending to your own orchard where the trees that blazed with flowers when I walked through on your guided tour hang their heavy branches full of the fruit that addiction grows, luscious pomegranates from a whiskey-soaked underworld already on the brink of falling to earth upon your frenetic life in a splattering shower of bloody consequences.

* * *

This is a series of images and a story. This is the truth and a mess of illusions decaying like radioactive particles.

In March of 2023 I experienced an alien abduction, by which I mean I attracted the attention of the wrong beautiful person, and I opened up my chest and gave them my heart, and they scooped it up and ate it in one bite and then came back for seconds.

This is vent poetry about a relationship that lasted forty days like a Biblical flood of mediocre whiskey and calculated affection. This is one last unpaid fortunetelling session for my ex.

That drunk bitch never paid me in anything but drinks on their tab at the bar, but even so, when I finally get their hooks out of my heart I’ll bleed more prophecy for them, no cards or tea leaves required, this time clear of the fog of love.

You made me promises like mushrooms grow after the rain, like dessert before dinner, empty calories wrapped in that lilting queer voice that I could never hear enough from, till my affection-starved trans spirit grew so bloated with desire I puked emotions on your lap, and every time I came back for another serving, my eyes so much bigger than my stomach and full of starlight under the deceiving moon,

where the ghost-light cast by your glamours drew forth luminous shadows from your heart in its impenetrable glass cage (where its best side, most fetchingly scarred, was always turned towards me), softening to my dazzled eyes the places where its torn edges scratched my skin and brought my blood out for you to lap up;

I know now every upwelling drop scored you a point in one game we played,

(we played many games, or anyway you played many games with me and the rules were always of your construction)

our torrid match-up of sweetly jaded gold star they gay dripping in charisma and cheap liquor and vulnerable smitten transfag poet wreathed in pot smoke and low self-esteem

two dueling divas competing at new love as if a win would cure them of their trauma.

* * *

When you have been kidnapped by the fae, you are said to be under the hill.

I was under the hill with this glamorous creature for less than six weeks from the moment they first asked to kiss me, so politely with such a light in their eyes, to the moment I packed up my things at the bar saying, “Talk to you when you’re sober,” and walked out to the beat of them shouting, “Oh maybe you won’t!” 

A hundred or more romantic moments from those forty days linger in my mind, a gigaton of vicarious trauma from their personal confessions sticks to my soul. Their handful of songs at karaoke have laid down entrenched earworm tracks inside my head; I drag my feet on ripping them out through exposure to the original recordings because no cis girl pop star has that angel voice going straight from my eardrums through my spine to my engorged psychic dick, ten stories high on the astral plane and pulsing at the tip with a beacon that shouts, “Use me, all glamor gays within eighteen degrees of cisgender, my earthly body has a hole exotic enough to soothe your trauma!”

I can still see the mischievous gleam in their eyes when they bragged about the size of their dick as clearly as I can the consuming void in their thousand-yard stare when they described to me in gruesome specifics, three weeks after first kissing me, how they were tortured as a teenager. I remember perfectly how softly and precisely they confessed their desire for my sex and their fantasies of how it would magically heal them, and the way their voice snapped when they so clearly detailed how a previous boyfriend tried to kill them.

Slime trails left by a useless drunken ghost. The decaying remnants of all those phantom sequins on the red flags. Ectoplasm clogging up my brain. I am out of that fae dream palace beneath the hill into such sunlight as this city has but I am still squinting miserably in the glare of reality, struggling to rip the shadows from my face.

* * *

“Hurt people hurt people,” as I’m sure you know, my fucked-up falsetto never-lover, in your infinite traumaqueer wisdom and compassion,

which is why you (motivator, counselor, healer) pretend you’re not a trembling pulsar of psychic damage, forever a single degree of the sun from exploding, held together by the gravity of your own lonely pride:

the same pride that decided not to fuck your trans boyfriend till you could clean the liquor from your soul;

a new hole would be a reward like none other, and besides, you can see the hurt in his eyes from a long-dead father as drunk as you are every time the whiskey burns your silver tongue, and surely you, savior of the earth from on high, can fix that with your sober sex even as you fix yourself,

unless, of course, you implode at the last moment in a black hole of panicky self-sabotage, afraid of the starry-eyed love he offers,

knowing that like every other ex you claim in your stable he will bend the knee and stay your friend, safer this way and still in love with you,

except (still in love with you, if only in pockets of freeze-dried time vacuum-sealed away in his heart) he fucking doesn’t because the traditional people-pleasing and fear of abandonment only goes so far and, honey, even flat on my ass with a freshly broken heart I’ve got pride too.

* * *

It goes like this in the traditional sequence of cards: the Devil, the Tower, the Star, the Moon, the Sun. But sometimes in the beguiling moonlight the Devil drags the Star down into the teetering Tower in flames and they never make it free to the bright heavens.

I’m not working a spell or casting a curse. This is just prophecy, true as Apollo’s brilliant arrows.

I took my heart whitewater rafting on a torrent of glamour and fell in love with an ungodly mess, and this is what I get. Sometimes you need to look back behind you before you leave the underworld, because Eurydice is a soul-draining siren and you’re better off alone.

If I close my eyes I can see where they’re headed. A shooting star on fire crashing into the earth, a promising career tanked, a car wrapped around a tree like when I was seven and my father got sent to AA with a revoked driver’s license.

I loved this bitch with all my impulsive heart and they let me down. I won’t say I’m not bitter. But I don’t need to waste energy cursing them. They’ll fuck their own shit up soon enough.

Before that happens, I’m throwing them out of my heart.

* * *

The narrow moon tells lies as it wanes and waxes in a sky turned blank black velvet by city lights, a silver-white sliver of illusion,

but tonight it hangs full to bursting; it sweeps away lies with its light and penetrates self-deception like teeth,

which is why I say I still love who I loved– but who I loved

was a specter of beauty and lovingkindness projected out of who you really are like an anglerfish’s lure,

no more real than your fantasy of me as a source of effortless healing:

I see you as you are,

entangled with your own pain and collapsed in on yourself from the force of your vain gravity, imagining fake hearts for those around you while breaking the real ones again and again;

I pity you as you are, and pity is not love,

nor will pity save you when you finally learn that trying to drown your troubles just teaches them how to breathe underwater.

I exhale the stardust of your beautiful unrealized soul from my system and watch it run out of my hands between my fingers,

I let love drain out of my heart like alien sand from a broken hourglass,

I close my chest up and cover it in armor when I am my own again,

because I have fortunes still to tell for people who will heed them,

poems yet to write for people who will listen,

jokes to make and laughter to spark,

and more love waiting out there for me than your eggshell heart could ever hold;

I never needed you to prove I can be desired and I do not need you now,

when the light of the full moon has shown me the truth and washed you from my affections

leaving me clean enough to love myself and let you go.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five  

=================================

Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.  

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.  

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon  @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06  @whatthefluffrichard​

PART 7

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

This Woman's Work VIII (An Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part IX

You allow yourself a moment. Just one. But then you feel anger and hatred for Mother Miranda swirl within your chest. How dare she. How dare she take your child.

You don’t even bother to put on your slippers. You just head out the door of your bedroom. You almost make it to the front door when you hear Cassandra call, “Maman?”

Damn. You were so close, too.

Cassandra walks over to you with a suspicious look on her face. “Where are you going so late at night?”

You might as well tell her the truth. You explain to her what happened and by the end of the explanation, Cassandra looks as livid as you feel. “That bitch..” she hissed. “I’ve always hated the pull she has over Mother. When I am through with her, she’ll wish she had never crossed House Dimitrescu.”

“Cassandra, I need you to stay here.”

“Maman-”

“Please, Cassandra dearest. Listen to me. We haven’t much time.” You gently lay a hand on Cassandra’s cheek. “The more time we spend arguing, the further Mother Miranda and your sister get away from us. I’m going to get help from Heisenberg. You stay here and figure out a way to wake your Mother up.”

Cassandra looks like she wants to argue more but in the end she relents. “Fine, Maman. But you better come back.”

“I will.” Then Cassandra surprises you by giving you a big hug. Out of all your daughters, Cassandra had taken the most time to warm up to you and she was never the most physically affectionate person. You can’t help but be moved as Cassandra holds you close.

Cassandra finally lets go and you give her a weak smile as you turn to the castle door and head out. She materializes into her bug form to warn her other sisters.

However, you had been lying to her. You weren’t going to see Heisenberg. You were going to confront Mother Miranda herself.

Suddenly a memory comes unbidden to you. Something about resurrecting Eva and a ceremonial site..

Blood roars in your ears as it finally dawns on you what Miranda has been planning all along.

“Fffffffuck.”

You don’t think. You just run. You are just in your dressing gown and it is the dead of winter but you don’t care, even as the impact of the cold snow on your feet sends shivers up your spine. Cracks from the cobblestones cut open your feet and as you run you leave a trail of blood as you run pell-mell through the village to the ceremonial site.

Once you finally arrive, the soles of your feet are a bloody mess and your swollen breasts are burning from not being able to feed your baby. You step inside the ceremonial grounds and you see Mother Miranda sitting next to what looks like a sacrificial altar. Ecaterina is suckling contentedly at her breast.

Mother Miranda looks up and a smile blossoms across her features. It would have been breathtaking if you didn’t notice the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Y/N! I was worried you wouldn’t make it! Please come in!”

You step inside. You have so many things you want to say to her but the words die in your throat. You just make strangled sounds.

Mother Miranda ignores this and turns back to Ecaterina. She is practically glowing as she places a small kiss on Ecaterina’s forehead. “Isn’t she just perfect? My daughter. My Eva.”

Ecaterina removes her head from Mother Miranda’s breast and coos. At the sound of your daughter’s voice, you feel a painful twinge as your breasts start leaking milk. You try to school your features in a smile that you know looks ghastly. “Mother Miranda? May I have my daughter back? Please?”

Mother Miranda gives you a pitying look. “Oh, you poor girl,” she says, her voice dripping with condescension. “Are you still operating under the illusion that this child is yours?”

Mother Miranda gently sets Ecaterina down on the altar. Every fiber of your being is screaming to run and get your child, but you know Mother Miranda is unhinged. You have no idea how she will react and she could very well hurt Ecaterina in the process. You can’t risk that.

“Oh, you brought her into the world, of course,” Mother Miranda continues making her way to you. A beam of moonlight casts a lurid gleam on Mother Miranda’s headress. “And for that I will always be grateful. But she simply doesn’t belong to you.”

Mother Miranda stops in front of you. She suddenly catches her face in between her hands, the claws from her gauntlets digging painfully into your cheeks. “Don’t get conceited, you little bitch,” she hisses. “An outsider like you has no place within this family. The Four Lords and I have a bond between us you can’t even fathom. Especially Alcina.” She gives you a wicked grin.

You wish you didn’t give her the satisfaction as the mere mention of your wife’s name makes you inhale sharply.

“Come now, Y/N,” Mother Miranda says. “You can’t possibly think that Alcina loves you, do you? Not in the way she loves me of course.”

You can hardly breathe as Mother Miranda runs her fingers down your cheek, leaving deep gouges in her wake. “Poor Y/N. Not even realizing that you’re just a placeholder. Alcina’s devotion will always first and foremost belong to me.”

You finally manage to speak as you give Mother Miranda a look of pure loathing. No need to hide it now. “Then why did you drug her, you cowardly bitch?”

“Well, I knew she’d be upset after she knew I killed you and took your daughter, but I think eventually she would see reason and that it was for the good of the family.” Mother Miranda’s features twist in a maniacal grin. “Tell me, has she ever called out my name while she’s fucking you?”

“That is quite enough, Mother Miranda.”

You whirl around and see your wife. Her beautiful face is a mask of rage as she advances further into the room. “How dare you? How dare you take my daughter and threaten my wife?! After all my years of service to you?? After everything I have given up for you?!”

“Oh Alcina, don’t be so melodramatic,” Mother Miranda says with a bored expression. “Besides, is that any way to talk to your mother, my favorite?”

Something seems to snap in Alcina. She stands immobile like a statue and there is a glazed look in her eyes.

Mother Miranda holds out her arms. “Come to Mother,” she croons.

Alcina walks over to Mother Miranda’s side. You feel bile rise up in your throat as you see Alcina take Mother Miranda in a passionate embrace. Alcina’s lips move over Mother Miranda’s hungrily and Mother Miranda smiles against them, chuckling humorlessly.

Alcina this is wrong, you scream silently in your mind. You know it’s wrong!

Finally, mercifully, the two break apart. Alcina’s lipstick is smeared all over Mother Miranda’s mouth and it looks like blood. “Alcina, dearest?” Mother Miranda asks loftily.

“Yes, Mother Miranda?” Your heart breaks at the love and devotion shining in Alcina’s eyes as she gazes down at Mother Miranda.

Mother Miranda waves a lazy hand in your direction. “Dispose of her, would you?”

Alcina turns around to face you. “Alcina?” you whisper as she advances towards you. You see no recognition in her golden eyes as she unsheathes her claws. Before you can say another word, she has rammed her claws into your side. She pulls back her claws as you fall to the ground. Blood is already spreading in a thick puddle around you on the floor.

“Good girl,” Mother Miranda praises.”You’ve made Mother very happy.”

Alcina finally seems to come back to herself. She looks over at your still figure and turns to Mother Miranda in horror. “What did you make me do?” she whispers. When Mother Miranda doesn’t answer, she stalks over to her and shakes her violently. “What did you make me DO?” Ecaterina begins to cry.

“What needed to be done,” Mother Miranda replies with no inflection. She gives Alcina a gentle smile and wipes the tears running down Alcina’s face. “Besides, that girl was standing in the way of our happiness. You know I’ve always loved you best.”

Alcina’s breath hitches in a sob. “I know, but-”

Mother Miranda pulls Alcina close in a hug. “Shhh. She was only temporary, Alcina. We are forever. Besides, with her gone we can finally raise Eva together. Would you like that?”

Alcina nods her head slowly. “Y-yes.”

Mother Miranda holds out her hand to Alcina. “All you need to do is take my hand and we can start a new life together.”

Alcina reaches out and takes Mother Miranda’s hand. With her other hand she rams all five feet of her claws through Mother Miranda’s heart.

Mother Miranda coughs up blood and gives Alcina a look of pure shock. “Alcina- I don’t understand- Why-”

Alcina pulls Mother Miranda closer and Mother Miranda gives out a yelp of pain as Alcina’s claws dig further through Mother Miranda’s back. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near my family again,” Alcina says in a low voice. “Do you understand me?”

“You can’t do this to me!” Mother Miranda shrieks. “I’m your mother!”

“You’re no mother of mine,” Alcina replies flatly. She swipes her claws from Mother Miranda, severing her torso from her midsection.

Alcina watches the light fade from Miranda’s eyes and then she rushes over where you are lying on the floor. Blood is flowing freely from the wound in your side. Alcina tears off strips from her dress sleeves to help staunch the blood flow but there is simply too much. Rags of her dress begin to pile up covered in your blood.

“Alcina? Jesus, what happened here?” Heisenberg walks into the ceremonial chamber and when he sees Alcina holding your still form he rushes over.

Mascara is running down Alcina’s cheeks. “Karl, I can’t get the blood to stop,” she sobs.

“We’ll get help. Where’s the little rugrat?”

Alcina points to the altar and aside from a little blood spatter from you or Miranda (it’s hard to tell), the baby is otherwise fine.

Your eyes flutter open suddenly. “Alcina?” you say sluggishly. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh, my dearest darling,” Alcina’ voice breaks as she takes your hand and holds it to her cheek. “What have I done to you?”

Heisenberg returns with the baby in tow. “Alcina we have to go. Now.”

“Karl?” You look over at Heisenberg as Alcina gathers you up into her arms. Your eyelids begin to flutter closed. “I’m so sleepy…”

“No, no, honey, don’t close your eyes just yet,” Karl pats your cheek affectionately. “We’re going to get you some help. Just hold on till then, ok?” “‘Kay,” you say as you fall into a deep sleep in your wife’s arms.

[fumingspice]

kiss me hard before you go

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.

Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc. 

Requests are open!

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate​

You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly. 

God, what time could it even be? 04.27.

You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Billie Dean Howard.

The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away. 

Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?

What was the last thing she said anyway?

Goodnight :(.

Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.

You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie. 

“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.

“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.

 Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”

A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden. 

“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.

You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register. 

It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.

Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.

Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable. 

It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.

Billie Dean Howard is calling...

Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.

You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”

“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”

“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”

You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”

Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”

“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”

“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”

You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”

“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.

“I already told you. I want to see you.”

The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.

“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.

Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”

Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”

And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.

You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.

“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.

“Nice to see you too.”

You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.

Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”

“I’m flattered.”

You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.

“I just dropped in to say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”

Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”

“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.

“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.

And you couldn’t give a shit.

“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”

You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”

You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”

You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The pair met, closer than you had in months.

“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”

 Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”

 You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.

A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.

And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear. 

Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.

“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”

Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.

You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.

“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”

Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.

“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.

“What did I do?”

You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”

A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.

“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.

“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.

You paused for a moment. “Anything?”

Billie smiled. “Anything.”

You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.” 

[isnt-it-loverly]

little birdie (3)//five hargreeves

Warnings: blood, poorly written fight scenes

Summary: When Five lands in the Sparrow Academy, he must convince one of them to help him reset the timeline. 

Word count: 1600

Author note: super short and not the best. This week i got some pretty rough news so updates may not happen as often as I want them too. I do have a plan and its officially going to be a series now! I’m going to try to get an update out at least once a week. Thanks again for all the love on the first two parts it means a lot!!

Part one, Part two , Part four, Part Five

There was a loud bang that awoke Five from his restless slumber. He grumbled groggily as it felt like he had just fallen asleep. He wondered what the hell you were doing out there. There was another crash and Five decided that it’d be best to check on you. Pulling himself out of bed was hard as he was now incredibly sore. He half expected the door to be locked again, he was wrong. Another one of your flaws, he noted, you were far too trusting. 

He pulled the door open quietly as to not to give himself away if there was trouble. Unfortunately, his fears were confirmed. Ben has you pinned to the wall, tentacle around your neck, and hand over your eyes. 

“Where are they, I know you’re helping them!” He yelled. Five watched silently as he watched you struggle, trying to pry yourself out of your brother’s grip. He gulped in fear that you would break and tell Ben all that you knew. 

“I- I don’t know,” you choked out. You were trying everything to get him to let go. Kicking, squirming and digging your nails into his skin. 

“You’re lying, I know you didn’t go on patrol yesterday. You’ve been spending a lot of time down here. Something you do when you’re hiding something,” Ben snarled. He squeezed harder and you felt all the breath leave your lungs. You gasped and coughed trying to get any air at all. Five grumbled to himself, knowing full well what he had to do. At least now you two will be even. 

“Hey asshole,” Five yelled with a cheeky grin, “looking for me?” 

“I knew you were lying, you little bitch,” Ben growled as he quite literally threw you across the room. You felt like all the air had been knocked out of you, and there was a high pitched ringing in your ears. You looked to Five but there was nothing but black dots dancing across your vision. You decided it might be best to give yourself a minute for everything to stop spinning.

Five looked to you worriedly, you definitely had taken a beating. This version of Ben was much more ruthless than his, and if he was being frank, it kind of scared the shit out of him- especially in his weakened state. He flashed in front of Ben and landed a punch square in his jaw. The Horror stumbled back, surprised that such a little guy packed such a powerful hit.

“Your family will be dead by nightfall, too bad you won’t be there to see it,” Ben roared before releasing the beast within him. A tentacle reached for Five, but he blinked out of the way. However one managed to strike him down

, and another pinned him into a wall. He looked down to see the blood seeping through the clean shirt you had given him, shit this was not good. He heard his brother yell out in pain and the grasp on him loosened. There you were, arms wrapped around Ben’s neck and bringing him to the ground. Five watched in amazement as you fought, it was like you were dancing. He was impressed, you were amazingly trained- even by the commission’s standards.   

Going toe to toe against your brother was not a simple task, especially when he had a giant octopus monster coming out of his stomach. All you could do was dodge his swings until you could get close enough. You manage a kick right into his jaw, and you watched with pride as he stumbled back with a bloody lip. You felt guilty for doing this. All over a boy, you had met less than a day ago. There was truth behind Five’s words, you knew that the apocalypse was coming and that your family was the spark that ignited it. You knew the consequences, you had to get him back to the umbrellas, whatever the cost. You landed another hit before that royally pissed him off. He came rushing at you, right into your trap. You knew that he’d be blinded by rage. Ben grabbed you by the neck and hoisted you into the air. 

“Rookie mistake,” You muttered while looking directly into his eyes. Just like that, it was over, Your dimwitted brother was much easier to take over than Five. In Number One’s body, you carefully set yourself down. You looked over to Five and rushed to his side.

“(Y/n), please tell me that’s you because I really don’t think I have it in me to kick his ass at the moment,” Five muttered clutching his stomach. You grimaced and you lifted his hand to see the fresh blood. You don’t know why but you hated to see him in pain.

“I’ll fix you up, but not here. It won’t take long for them to realize Number One has gone missing,” you explained while helping Five his feet. He looked exhausted and you were determined to keep him safe. Nothing was going to happen to him on your watch. 

“Now,” you looked Five dead in the eyes, “how hard can you punch?

“What?” He responded with a quizzical look on his face. 

“Like on a scale of one to one hundred, what would you say?” You asked with a small smirk. 

“I don’t know, 94?” He replied. 

“Perfect! I need you to knock me out,” You instructed nonchalantly. 

“Fine by me, but it’s not gonna hurt you right? I’m punching Ben not (Y/n),” Five questioned as he prepared his stance. 

You nodded to let him know that it was okay. Sure you’d feel it but he didn’t have to know that, besides a little white lie never hurt anyone. Five really went for it, all the angry built up in one hit. You stumbled back, closing your eyes tight. When you opened them you found yourself back in your own body and Number One splayed on the ground.

“Ninety-four my ass, that was like a 200,” You complained. You rubbed your jaw slightly trying to ease away the pain that had transferred over. Five mumbled a small apology. You just shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

“Come on,” you said in a hushed tone, “sleeping beauty won’t stay down forever.”

You pulled him along as fast as the both of you could move. You were definitely sore, two big fights in the span of 24 hours was draining. Rest was not a luxury either of you could afford right now. Slipping out of the basement and into the corridor, head whipping as you did. The coast appeared to be clear. Before you could move Five pulled you into his chest, with a hand over your mouth. 

“Now, I’m gonna trust you. Which I don’t normally do. If, for even a second, I think you’re gonna double cross me and my family- I will kill you,” He whispered in your ear harshly. You pulled his hand away gently and looked into his eyes,

You could tell he was searching your face for any signs of deception but he wouldn’t find any. All he could see was a severely pissed off (Y/n).

“If I wanted you dead, I would’ve let bleed out the first time my brother kicked your ass,” You snapped back. You pulled away in anger, after all you did for that little shit. If any of your siblings found you, they’d kill you- didn’t he realize that you were on his side. That you had already lost everything to reset the timeline and stop an apocalypse that may not even happen. You looked around the corner again and signaled for him to move. He followed you closely before grabbing your shoulder. 

“Hold onto me tight,” He instructed. You did as you you were told and held on to his arm for dear life knowing exactly what he was about to do. Five did a quick run forward and suddenly the both of you were outside in the courtyard. You covered your mouth and bit your lip to keep from vomiting everywhere. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you groaned. 

 “You can do that after we’re far away from the academy,” Five said in a hurried tone. He grabbed your wrist and begun pulling you along into the street. To be honest, most everything looked the same to Five. All of the shops were the same, the people looked normal, nothing except the academy was out of place. 

“Do you know where West Street is? There’s a place where we can hide out. Its safe, I promise. Clean clothes and fresh food too,” You asked with hope in your voice. 

“There's no time for comfort, Ben knows where my family is. We have to find them first,” Five said with determination. 

“He was bluffing, I checked. They have no leads,” You confirmed, “ and on top of that, two kids in bloody clothes will raise too many questions.”

Five looked at you wearily, You hadn't lied to him so far so why would you start now. He knew that you were right about your appearances, they’d be a dead give away. He sighed in defeat and told you he knew the way. You smiled and slipped your shades on, ready to take on the next chapter of this adventure. 

“Here,” You said while slipping off your blazer. You handed it to Five and he gave you a quizzical look. 

“To cover up the blood, you look like Carrie after the prom,” You joked. Five slipped it on, it was snug yet it felt very familiar. The material was the same as his old one, just red. He sighed and ran his hand over the emblem, that bird did not belong there. You noticed his discomfort but decided not to press it. The faster you got to West Street, the better life would be for the two of you. 

[obxcunt]

Love bites || (7)

pairing: jj maybank x reader [eventually] || rafe cameron x reader

warnings: cursing, typos, violence, angst.

summary: it was supposed to be a good summer for you, the last one in the obx before going to college, the last one with your friends and family. Unfortunately, a sudden and mysterious death is about to completely change your life, pushing you directly into a brand new world and into a very sexy vampire’s arms.

A/N: I LOVED WRITING THIS PART! HAVE FUN READING IT! LOVE YOU GUYS!

part six || masterlist || part eight

“Shut up, JJ!” You screamed, entering the Chateau. “What’s going on?” Kiara asked, looking at her friends with confusion. “What happened guys?” She added. “He’s just being dramatic, again.” You said, crossing your arms. “Right—” He laughed nervously, walking up to you. “Her boyfriend—” You groaned, rubbing your face. “He’s not my boyfriend!” You snapped, face to face with the blond vampire. “We have more important things to talk about guys.” Kiara said, sensing the tension growing between you two. “Exactly! Ward thinks you’re suspicious, we need to do something about it.” You continued. “You might be in danger right now.” He shook his head. “You’re constantly defending him, are you in love with this asshole or something?” JJ asked, the question making you sigh. “He’s my friend! This is not about love or anything. We’ve been friends for years, JJ!” He clenched his jaw. “Tell me, are you jealous?” He laughed nervously, raising his hands. “You think—” He scoffed. “I’m not jealous, only worried.” You frowned. “You’re too attached to him, you could betray us.” Your eyes widened, your hand automatically raising itself to move against his cheek: the action releasing a loud sound. “Y/N!” Kiara gasped, jaw dropping. “I— Fuck you, JJ.” You murmured to him, ignoring his blank expression. “Guys, calm down!” Kiara said, watching you walk away from them. “Wha— Wait!” He shouted, following you to the front door. “Where are you going?” You opened the door without looking at him. “Far away from you.”

It’s been three days since you left: which already felt like an eternity to him. He wasn’t expecting it: the emptiness, the guilt, the craving and the pain. Obviously, everyone knew it, everyone could feel his distress every day and night, because his happiness disappeared at the same time as you did that night.

“... Too dangerous.” Marcus said to Kiara, giving the brunette another book of spells. “Hey, what’s going on with him?” He whispered to her, glancing at the lonely boy on the hallway. “Did something happened?”

“She, happened.” Kiara smirked, focusing on the book. “He pretends to be okay, but—” She sighed, briefly glancing at JJ. “It seems like his life isn’t the only thing he lost last year, his balls are missing too.”

“Fuck off, Kiara.” Marcus chuckled at the kids. “I’m right here, which means i can hear you guys.” JJ added, sighing as he stood up to join them in the messy office.

“Oh shit, really?” Kiara asked, pretending to be surprised, closing the book with one hand. “Might as well remind you that you’re an idiot then.” He rolled his eyes. “You should’ve said the truth, JJ.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and swallowing hard his own lie. The brunette’s jaw dropped, and she threw the old book at him. “Hey! What the fuck?” He asked, moving out of the way.

“Exactly, JJ!” She shouted. “What the fuck?” She asked back, crossing her arms. “We all know, don’t lie it’s unnecessary.” Marcus remained silent, looking at the them with confusion.

“Alright!” JJ said. “And how, huh?” He asked, looking straight at her. “It’s too late! I can’t do it anymore, she hates me.” Kiara rolled her eyes: dramatic, she thought. “I don’t even know what to say or where to start. I’ve been in love with this girl since high-school, i’ve been thinking about her for years, i’ve been working at Topper’s every summers just to see her.” He looked exhausted, frustrated by his own emotions.

Kiara’s features softened at his honesty. “It’s never too late.” She said, trying to reassure him. “I saw it, JJ! It’s meant to be.” The blond laughed, not convinced. “She likes you, it’s an evidence.” She sighed. “And—”

“It’s too late for me.” He said sadly. “Because at the end of the day, she’s still a mortal Kook.” Marcus pursed his lips together in sad smile. “And, i’m a vampire.”

“JJ...” Kiara murmured, approaching him.

He turned around, hearing the familiar ringtone of his phone from the living room. He left the office, ignoring them both as they kept shouting his name. He shook his head, clenching his fists on the way to the couch, grabbing the cellphone rapidly. And suddenly, a smile appeared on his tired face at the sight of your name on his screen.

He licked his lips, shaking. “I— Hey!” He said with excitement, running a hand through his hair. “I mean— What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Hey.” He couldn’t believe it, smiling at the sound of your voice. “Tell me, isn’t it a bit late?” He frowned, looking at the dark hallway. “If you came here to apologize, you’re three days late, JJ.” You laughed alone, the blond remaining confused.

“Wha— What are you talking about?” He asked, walking back to the office. “I’m at the Chateau with Marcus and Kiara, we are working on the Ward situation.” They both looked at him with confusion. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Shit.” You murmured, going down the stairs. “I— I thought it was you!” You walked to the front door, making sure it’s locked. “There’s someone in front my house.”

Marcus frowned, nodding at JJ. “Wait, what?” The blond asked in worry. “Stay away from the doors and windows, Y/N!” He rubbed his face. “You’re safe, don’t worry, he can’t enter the house but—”

“My parents, they’re both gone.” You interrupted, walking around the house. “I’m home alone, JJ.”

“Calm down, Y/N.” He said, walking out the office, followed by Marcus and Kiara. “I’m on my way, don’t worry.” He hung up, looking for his keys.

“What’s going on, JJ?” The witch asked. “Is she okay? What happened?” He ignored her, searching everywhere. “Hey!”

“He’s at her house!” He shouted at her, pulling on his blond lock as he looked around. “We need to kill him, we need to do something.” He finally found the keys. “I need you guys, i can’t do this on my own.”

———————————————————————

“What the—” You murmured, hearing a loud noise from downstairs. You swallowed hard, opening the bedroom door, walking to the stairs: noticing the front door wide open. “No, no, no, no.” You cried, walking down the stairs in a rush to close it. “Shit.” You turned around, driven by paranoia.

A loud silence occupied the empty house, the cold atmosphere and fear eating you alive. You didn’t know what to do, cursing yourself as you remembered forgetting your phone on your bed.

You needed to tell JJ, you needed him here. “Dumb bitch.” You whispered, running back upstairs, panting through the panic. “Wait, what?” You asked, not finding it. “No, what the fuck—”

Another noise interrupted you, a scream escaping your trembling lips: which made the intruder smile to himself. You walked down the stairs in a rush, determined to leave the house since it wasn’t even safe here anymore. Unfortunately, as soon as you tried to open the front door: someone grabbed your waist, turning you around to slam you against the door as you screamed loudly.

There he was, the monster who killed Kelce a few days ago, the one who’s been chasing you ever since. The brown-haired boy around your age smiled, his dark eyes searching for yours. “You’re not going anywhere, my dear friend.” He looked different, the dead side showing up through his cold features. “The party just started.” He added with sinister smile, making you cry. “Shhh, shhh, shhh.” He murmured playfully, caressing your cheek with his dirty hand, your body shaking against the wooden door. “It’s okay—“

“Don’t touch me!” You cried, placing both hands on his chest as you tried to push him away. “Please— You killed my friend!” He chuckled, choking you lightly. “Stop— They’re gonna kill you too.”

“I’ll make sure you’ll die first.” He replied calmly, tightening his grip. “But we’re gonna play a little bit together.” You sobbed in silent, searching for a solution in your head. “Even though, it’s not okay to play with our food.”

“Why— Why are you doing this?” You asked, trying to gain more time by distracting him. “Please— Let me go.”

“It’s natural!” He exclaimed with enthusiasm, smiling awkwardly. “Damn, look at you…” He examined the veins in your neck, then your face attentively. “You’re beautiful, probably delicious as well.” He removed his hand from your throat, laughing as you started coughing. “I’ve been waiting for this moment—“ He paused, hearing something outside. “Shit—“

You noticed the concern on his face, the opportunity to escape as the tall man took a step back. “Fuck you!” You shouted, punching him across the face with all the strength you had before running towards the kitchen, whining in pain as you couldn’t feel your hand anymore.

“You’re gonna regret it!” He yelled from behind as you pulled out one knife, turning around and stabbing him in the stomach in a second. “Fucking bitch—“ He laughed at the action, noticing the blood on your hands and the disgust expression on your face. He pulled it out himself, throwing it away. “You’re gonna need way more than that.”

You remained silent in shock. “I’m— I’m sorry.” You mumbled automatically as JJ screamed your named from outside. You glanced at the hallway in panic, wanting to answer but as soon as the intruder turned around you panicked. “Don’t hurt him!” You added, grabbing his arm. “Don’t—”

He instantly pushed you away, straight against the counter, the impact making you whine in pain. His hand move to the back of your head, to pull on your hair. “You need to shut that pretty mouth.” He added, before roughly slamming your head against the wall.

———————————————————————

“Shit!” JJ yelled. “She’s not answering anymore!” Marcus was driving fast, the brunette witch sitting in the back and trying to calm him down. “If something happened to her—”

“Don’t say that!” Kiara said, the crew arriving in the quiet street. “She’s in the house, which means she’s safe! Maybe— Maybe she fell asleep or something.” She said, not very convinced by her own words.

“I— I can’t.” He said, clenching his jaw. “I can’t loose her, especially like this—” He hit the seat with a clenched fist. “I promised her—”

“You need to calm down, kid!” Marcus told him, focusing on the road. “I know it’s hard, but—” The blond boy couldn’t wait anymore, jumping off the car as they approached the house. “JJ!” He shouted, stopping instantly.

JJ ran towards the house, knocking on the front door like a maniac, shouting your name hopelessly. He tried to calm down, focusing on the sounds surrounding him: sighing in relief as soon as he heard your voice. Unfortunately, the joy left instantly as he heard the other man’s voice and the fear in yours emerging as your heartbeat increased.

Kiara and Marcus parked in the driveway, both running to the front porch, approaching JJ. “What’s wrong with you?” The older vampire asked. “Wha—“ He paused, looking at the door, sensing the other vampire’s presence. “He’s inside the house.”

“Wait, what?” Kiara asked. “Okay, let me—” She tried to enter, opening the front door, but Marcus and JJ both pushed her back.

“It’s too dangerous, you’re gonna get killed!” Marcus said. “It’s time to use your powers, i’m sure there is a spell for this.” Kiara frowned, unprepared. “I know it’s very stressful for you but—”

“I’m begging you!” JJ shouted, losing his mind. “She’s in danger, please do something. We need to enter this house before—” He paused, suddenly losing the ability to hear your voice and heartbeat. “I— I can’t hear her anymore.”

“I’ll go to the back!” Marcus said, disappearing instantly.

Kiara sighed. “Let me try something.” She said, pushing the blond out of her way. “I need you to stay calm, i need to concentrate.” She started murmuring inaudible words, breathing in and out.

“Kiara…” JJ murmured, looking at the inside of the house with clenched fists. This was a real torture for him, the worst scenarios popping up in his mind. “Kiara!”

“It’s done!” She shouted back, opening her eyes. “It’s— I think it’s done, you should be able to—” He didn’t let her finish, entering the house. “Be careful!”

———————————————————————

“...Be careful!” The intruder smirked to himself, looking at your unconscious body laying on the kitchen’s floor before exiting the house by using the back-door.

JJ smelled something that worried him even more as he walked in: blood. He ran towards the kitchen, kneeling down next to you as soon as he saw you, feeling like crying at the terrible scene. He pulled you closer, taking you in his arms and grimacing at the sight of your bloody nose. He caressed your cheek, calling your name again and again.

“Kiara!” He yelled. “Please— Wake up, Y/N.” He repeated again, holding you tight. “Why— I can’t hear her heartbeat!” He almost cried as the witch walked in. “Fuck—” He used his thumb to wipe the blood under your nostrils.

Kiara sat down next to you two, grabbing your wrist. “Wait.” She said, trying to concentrate to find your heartbeat. “She—“ JJ was panting, filled with anger and sadness as he held you close to his own heart. “She’s alive.” Kiara murmured, smiling in relief. “She’s alive, JJ.”

The blond boy closed his eyes, tears emerging from the corners as you coughed and blinked a few times. The brunette couldn’t stop smiling, catching your gaze as you opened your eyes slowly.

“Kie—” You paused, confused and coughing again. You blinked, moving one hand to JJ’s arm, smiling at him. “I—” Kiara stood up and left, wondering where Marcus was. “Hey…” You murmured, looking straight at him as kept holding you.

“Hey…” He said with a weak smile, almost breaking down. He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, repulsing the urge to cry as he kissed your skin. “Don’t— You scared the shit out of me, Y/N.” You chuckled, your hand moving to his cheek. “I’m sorry for the other night.” He added, pulling away to look at you.

“Me too.” You admitted, still feeling guilty for slapping him and running away. “I—“ He didn’t let you finish, pulling you into a tight hug, making you whine. “JJ— I can’t breath.” You laughed against his neck, his hand resting behind your head. “Are you— Are you crying?” You asked, hearing him snif.

“Never.” He said, holding back the tears. “Shut up, Y/N.” He added, hearing your giggles. “Fuck— I thought you were—“ You pulled away, resting your head against his chest, surprised to hear his own heart beating so fast.

“I’m okay, JJ.” You said, your body relaxing against him. “I’m okay…” You sighed peacefully, cuddling him in the silent kitchen, every dark thoughts and fears magically disappearing.

———————————————————————

tag-list: @prejudic3-deactivated20201112 @thestorysofargone @ifilwtmfc @callmeimpetuous @katiaw2 @iccyyyybitch @agirlwholovescoffee @hvrcruxes @mayybankz @magicwithaknife @obxmxybxnk @lus-shh @bibliophilewednesday @k-k0129 @acvross-the-universe @thestorysofargone (tumblr won’t let me tag some of u guys!)

[sixfanficsarchive]

Soulmates AU

Anne Boleyn/Catherine of Aragon

Colour by Reign_of_Glory

Colour. It's such a profound concept, full of so many meanings. For Catalina, she knows she's likely to never see any colour other than what she's been told is yellow. She's one of the lucky ones, she supposes, because she can also see shades of orange and red. However, she does wonder what she's missing. She's married, and still unable to see the full beauty of a rainbow, of a promise that everything will be okay.

The Glow by PikaPals16

The glow happens when you share a significant moment with your soulmate, not necessarily first touch but you know, sometimes it is.

Two Queens and A Crown by immortalbibitch

Everyone is born with a tattoo to symbolise their soulmate, but not all soulmates are mutual and reincarnation can be a bitch.

Hanahaki disease:

sunflower by khowardishere (esoterpsi)

Anne is also 17 when she begins to cough up yellow petals.

Places We Won't Walk by a_slightly_cracked_egg

It took her another month to realize just how screwed she was.

Catherine of Aragon/Jane Seymour

Truth by CinderSpots

When you're around your soulmate you have no fliter.

Single(ness) by sixsclassic

Jane is a single mother to two year old Katherine. She’s finally finding herself again, where she meets the one, in a pub on a Tuesday night.

Hanahaki disease:

Heartbreak and Oblivion by Um_Lol

“I love you.” written in blood on her desk. And flowers, everywhere. Aragon felt more guilty than ever, and wished she realised sooner. But it was too late.

Katherine Howard/Catherine Parr

Bookmarks by Please No Portraits (GothAlbinoAngel)

Now, Kit and Cathy want to go about getting to know one another, even as the marks on their arms tell them they're bound for someone else. 

i might not believe in fate (but i believe in you) by the_glare_you_see

A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr

My dumbass soulmate by The_Names_No_One

Cathy meets Anne when Boleyn gets her hand stuck in a vending machine.

our shared marks (And the bruises on you) by Not_a_healthy_human

Whenever your soulmate gets hurt, a mark of your soulmate's favorite color appears over your skin. Cathy is always covered in marks, and fears for her soulmate.

Day One by CsjLam

There’s a timer on your arm which indicates how much time you have left until you meet your soulmate.

History, a mystery and reincarnated Tudor Queens by Multifandom_wreck

Cathy Para and Anne Brooklyn both have secrets. Neither of them know it, but they could be about to find one of the only six people in the world who know what it feels like to be a Tudor Queen living in a modern world.

time stands still by lessix (scrxamitout)

Parr and Boleyn fall in love in every universe.

[detectiveinchicago]

Sparks Fly: Chapter 10

Chapters list here

Note: Hi guys! I’m sorry for taking so long with this chapter. I had problems with chapter 9 too, Tumblr deleated chapter 9 idk why. Thank u for all the comments and reviews, you are amazing. If you want to be tag in this story please let me know. English is not my first language. Enjoy xxx.

DISCLAIMER: GIF IS NOT MINE.

WARNING: Bad language, mental illness, PTSD and drugs mentions. 

What smell was that? Lemon maybe? Caitlyn could feel her head throbbing. She was going to need an urgent Tyrol. Why did her eyelids suddenly feel so heavy? How long had she been asleep? Light. Why was there so much light? Couldn’t someone turn it off? Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the white light. She opened her eyes slowly as she concentrated on the beeping of the machines.

“You’re awake.” Why was Kenny even talking to her? God, was last night a dream? Judging by the pain in her shoulder, she could tell it had been real. She finally finished blinking and turned her head on the pillow to see him. He had a bruise on his jaw she was sure he hadn’t in the warehouse. 

“Who did you fight with?” Caitlyn asked in a raspy voice, “What happened to your face?”

“Your brother punch me” Kenny replied

“Oh, God” Caitlyn muttered “I’m sorry” she added embarrassed 

“He’s furious that you didn’t tell him we were married” Kenny informed her, “I think you missed that little piece of information, it was a beautiful family reunion”

“My brother and I are not exactly on good terms” Caitlyn replied with a small cough.

“Were you ever on good terms?” he asked raising his eyebrows, pouring a glass of water and offering it to Caitlyn

“Thanks” Caitlyn drank “FYI, the relationship is worse than ever, did Will intervene?”

“To be honest, he was more concerned about your medical history.”

“Of course” Caitlyn replied, “Did you ...?”

“Yes, no latex, no penicillin, and no opioids” Kenny informed her. Caitlyn smirked, he still remembered it.

“Did Will try to stop Jay?” she asked out of curiosity

“I think he was too shocked to think” Kenny said, “Jay tried to make me his punching bag in the waiting room” He said. Caitlyn lowered her gaze to look at his knuckles and Kenny seemed to read her thoughts “I didn’t hit him, I have my anger under control, thank you very much for asking” replied the annoyed by his gesture.

“I said nothing Kenny” Caitlyn replied

“But you thought about it” he replied, getting up from the chair next to her bed.

“Why are you coming if you’re always going to be mad at me over nothing” Caitlyn rolled her eyes

“Well, even if you haven’t been there for me when I needed you, I’m here for you” Kenny replied dryly before heading out the room. Caitlyn leaned her head against the pillow. Perfect. Yet another problem to add to the list. She closed her eyes. Maybe she should get some more sleep. Her shoulder was killing her. Where were opioids when she needed them?

“Caitlyn! Your husband told me you were already awake”

Dammit. She just wanted to go back to sleep.

“He’s not ... Never mind” Caitlyn mumbled “Good to see you again Dr. Marcel”

“I’d say the same if it weren’t because every time I see you you’ve been stabbed,” Dr. Marcel said and Caitlyn smirked, “And because you altered Maggie’s waiting room”

“Sorry about that” she wrinkling her nose “I’m sure it was a disaster”

“I thought it was going to be worse, to be honest” Dr. Marcel replied as he took some notes from the monitors and a nurse walked through the door “Dr. Choi and I were ready to intervene but your husband never raised a finger” he informed her as Caitlyn raised her eyebrows.

“Really?” she said “We have been separated for almost five years, technically he is my husband but we are not together” Caitlyn commented to the doctor as the nurse changed her bandage.

“Maggie must surely still be mad at Jay for disturbing the order in the ED” The nurse told her with a small smile

“Will told me that Maggie rules the ED” Caitlyn answered causing a laugh from both

“He’s not wrong” Dr. Marcel replied, “You don’t want to mess with Maggie”

“I’ll write that down for future references,” Caitlyn said with a brief smile.

“Since the stab was in your shoulder and provided that no nerves were damaged, you just needed 48 hours in here so you will leave tonight”

“Tonight? I have slept for almost a day?” Caitlyn asked 

“Yes, it’s 6AM so you still need to wait for tonight” Dr. Marcel answered, “You will need to rest Caitlyn for a few weeks and you won’t be able to chase anyone for almost a month until you come back here”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, “I forgot how much I hate to be hurt”

“You guys need to get a hobby” Dr. Marcel answered shaking his head “Cops keep telling me how much they hate to on desk duty”

“I don’t have time for a hobby and all the hobbies I have are sports” Caitlyn told him while the nurse finished taking a blood sample. 

“I would also recommend you to take painkillers” Dr. Marcel added writing something down in her file. 

“Opioids?” Caitlyn asked while he looked at him.

“He told me you have some history with oxy” and by “he”, Caitlyn assumed Dr. Marcel was talking about Kenny “But we have to sedate you to remove the bullet and then we gave you small doses of painkillers” 

“You must have seen my file, I had a lot of things when I was a teenager and I was really closed with oxy” Caitlyn said. 

“Don’t worry but you will have to monitor your pain in case you need them” Dr. Marcel informed her “How much pain from one to ten do you have?”

“Maybe a seven” Caitlyn answered

“That’s not so bad,” Marcel told her, “We can work with that, I will see you next week, if you feel your pain increasing you call me” He finished before getting off her room. 

“Hey “ O.A greeted standing at the door with Jess, Clinton, Hanna and Sheryll.

“Hey guys” Caitlyn smiled briefly

“How you feel?” Sheryll asked, sitting in the chair that Kenny previously occupied.

“As if a truck had hit me” Caitlyn replied sitting on the bed

“You were lucky the guy had such poor aim” Clinton replied, “He was close to the neck”

“Please” Caitlyn replied “I’m a tough bitch, he needs more than a stab to kill me”

“I told you she will say that” Hanna told Clinton.

“What happened with the case?” Caitlyn asked.

“It turns out that this guy was a psychopath as we expected, but he was medicated, sometimes he had these breaks where he went out to kill” Jess informed her about the case “He stopped taking the medication, accumulating the prescribed pills and with that, he drugged his victims “

“We think he started accumulating pills a year ago after his mother died,” Sheryll added.

“I took the trouble to take a picture frame of her mother, look at this” Hanna said handing her a bag of evidence. Caitlyn took it and raised her eyebrows.

“She looks just like Amelia Roberts” Caitlyn observed.

“And similar to all his other victims” Hanna added, “She was an exotic dancer before she became a prostitute”

“We talked to some neighbors, and they lived in the same house their whole lives, the neighbors said that the mother was quite a character and not in a good way” Sheryll informed her.

“How many victims?” Caitlyn asked.

“Fifty-five at the moment but labs are still running” Jess replied.

“And the lipstick?” Clinton added, “The mother had a box full of red lipstick”

She took a brief nap after her friends left, promising to meet them that night for a drink at a bar called Molly’s. They were going to join her brother’s unit for a job well-done celebration. They had discovered who the murderer was and he would spend a lot of time behind bars.

“Hey” her brother Will greet her “Marcel told me you looked good”

“It still hurts though” Caitlyn commented giving him a small smile.

“You and Jay must stop getting shot or stabbed or you’re going to drive me crazy” Will muttered taking a seat in the chair next to her while Caitlyn giggled “Kenny was still here” Will committed causing her to turn to look at him, “I told him to go to rest but he seemed to be angry when he left“ he added curious

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, “He’s always mad at me”

“You know Jay wanted to kill him when he found out, right?” Will added by pouring a glass of water to his sister and handing it to her.

“Dr. Marcel told me, did Kenny hit him?” Caitlyn asked curiously to see what story her brother was going to tell her.

However, Will confirmed Marcel and Kenny’s story.

“He didn’t raise his hand” Will shrugged “Jay was being a jerk, I probably would have hit him if I were Kenny.”

Caitlyn shifted uncomfortably in bed for having judged Kenny too quickly, although she would continue to maintain that her husband had gotten angry with her for no reason.

“So ...” Will began, “Are you going to tell me how this all happened?”

“We got married and then we weren’t married anymore” Caitlyn replied and her brother rolled his eyes “Truth is, nobody ever made me feel like Kenny”

Will raised his eyebrows “That’s a revealing confession isn’t it?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes “Shut up”

“Why didn’t you get divorced? You’re not together, ” Will asked curiously.

“It was too painful at the time to see us again and then it was just easier to stay married, the taxes and all that” Caitlyn replied distractedly, although she never believed she could have the courage to let Kenny go for good.

“Are you telling me you didn’t get a divorce because of your taxes?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows.

Caitlyn glared at him “It’s harder than you think, Kenny will probably always be my great love”

Will nearly choked on his glass of water, “Excuse me?”

“It’s ... difficult” Talking about her feelings with her brother was harder than she thought “My feelings are complicated; God, I’m doomed” Caitlyn snorted, resting her head on the pillow.

“I couldn’t tell you if it’s bad or not, but he seemed worried about you when you came” Will commented, scrutinizing her.

“PTSD sucks” Caitlyn told him “It’s what ruined my marriage”

----flashback----

Even though Kenny had PTSD he had never had major problems, yes he had nightmares, yes he sometimes had bad and terrible days, and yes he had seizures but Caitlyn knew herself that coming back from the war was more than difficult. That’s why she didn’t judge him. She understood him and tried to give Kenny space when he needed it.

However, they had a case where a veteran sniper with PTSD, a war hero, had killed five people after his best friend, another soldier, committed suicide. Caitlyn knew that her husband was struggling. She had mixed feelings about the case, but Kenny was showing signs of stress. The night before she was sure that he had not closed an eye and he was quiet. 

That night Caitlyn had fallen asleep while Kenny was still watching television. However, she woke up hours later to moans and complaints coming from her husband. When she settled into bed still half asleep herself, she saw Kenny shifting between the sheets and murmuring in his sleep. Caitlyn looked at him carefully. Should she wake him up? That was probably her first mistake.

“Kenny” called Caitlyn moving him by the shoulder and approaching his face “Kenny, wake up”.

Kenny opened his eyes suddenly and Caitlyn received a punch that destabilized her and made her back up before she could even move, Kenny had her arms immobilized to the bed.

“Kenny!” Caitlyn moved to escape his grip “Kenny!” she exclaimed again as he left her arms and started choking her “Kenny is me” she said raising her arms and trying to touch his face as she felt the air escaping from her throat “Ken ...” she repeated unable to finish his name due to lack of air.

When she saw spots in her vision and as her arms tried to touch her husband’s face, she moved her legs and kicked him in the testicles. To which Kenny responded by coming out of his reverie and leaning over on the bed in pain.

Caitlyn crawled out of bed to the floor as she tried to catch her breath. Once she could stop seeing dots in her vision, she got up on shaking legs and locked herself in the bathroom. She slid through the door to the floor and sat there as she tried to get all the air back into her lungs. Caitlyn knew how PTSD worked, she believed that everyone who returned from the war somehow had PTSD, if it wasn’t for the war it was for life.

She didn’t judge Kenny, but she had to admit that being attacked by the person sleeping next to you in bed was scary on another level. You think she would be used to that kind of thing and she was, but not at home, in the place where she was supposed to be safe. She hated to admit it but it was the same feeling she had when she was still living with her father, walking around looking over her shoulder because she never knew when she was going to get a bottle from the back. And she hated to admit it too, but Kenny in that state scared her a little. She knew that in her work she looked fearless and reckless, but deep down she just wanted to feel safe and have someone to hug her at night.

Caitlyn walked over to the mirror and noticed that her cheek was swelling and that her neck had grip marks. She got out of the bathroom and went to the kitchen in search of ice to get high; she sat on the couch while tilting her head, holding the ice.

He had already suggested therapy, a dozen times at least, Caitlyn had begged Kenny to go to therapy for him and when she noticed he didn’t want to do it she asked him to at least do it for her. It didn’t work either. He insisted that he was fine.

Caitlyn leaned back in the chair with her head spinning and fell asleep. The next morning, she awoke to the sound of the coffeepot and as she remembered what had happened the night before, Kenny offered Caitlyn a cup and sat next to her. They both sit in silence, taking the first sips of coffee. Kenny reached out and ran his fingers across Caitlyn’s neck. She just looked at him and pouted.

“I’m sorry” He said finally.

“I know” Caitlyn replied.

“I’m sorry” Kenny repeated “I didn’t come to tell you yesterday because I thought you wouldn’t want to see me”

Caitlyn fell silent and took another sip of coffee.

“You’re good?” she asked after a while.

“Yes,” Caitlyn replied turning to look at him “It doesn’t hurt, but I’m going to report sick for work on Monday, I don’t think the swelling will go down by then” She could tell that he felt guilty, however that wasn’t enough for her.

----flashback----

“Do you have PTSD?” Will asked her.

“Nope, Kenny used to but I think we all have PTSD, if it’s not war, it’s life” Caitlyn answered looking at him “He used to have episodes and he refused to go to therapy” she added “so I left, I didn’t want to repeat cycles”

“Like dad?” Will asked curiously 

“Yes, like dad” Caitlyn answered briefly and Will could tell she was in a bad place “Dad got the worst out of me”

“What do you mean?” Will asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“He made me feel on the edge all the time” Caitlyn answered looking aside “I never knew what was going to happen, he made me feel anxious”  

“Dad was complicated”

“Dad was more than just complicated,” She said “I was just a teenager and he was such a bad person, I was supposed to enjoy the senior year and instead I ended up almost drunk every day”

“How could you…?”

“I ended up in hospitals, a lot” Caitlyn explained “And doctors gave me oxy, a lot”

“At that time I thought you were still going to Stanford” Will whispered “I’m sorry” he added taking her hand into his.

“It’s okay” Caitlyn said, “Truth is; it was easier to explain my injuries since I used to be an athlete, doctors believe me”

“I’m sorry” Will repeated.

“I know, I’m afraid that I will become addict to oxy at any second, the doctor once told me I wasn’t abusing pain killers because I was in real pain because of my injuries” Caitlyn confessed “But I realized know that I was really closed of becoming an addict”

“I saw your medical record, you needed those painkillers,” Will told her “I wished that Jay and I had been more attentive”

“I know you tried, I mean, I have been angry all these years but you are trying now and that’s enough for me to talk to you at least,” Caitlyn said with a little smile “Because Jay is definitely not talking to me”

“He is just trying to do things right” Will added

Caitlyn rolled her eyes “You should have seen how he looked at me when we were working, he hates me”

“He doesn’t hate you, he is just angry” Will told her. 

“If you say so” She answered unconvinced 

“You should talk to him” Will suggested. 

“I will not talk with him, if he wants to talk then he should come to me” Caitlyn answered. If there was one thing Caitlin and Jay shared, it was that they were both stubborn when it came to pride. Will doubted either of them would give their arm to twist.

“You are both so stubborn” Will said, shaking his head.

“Stubbornness is in the family” Caitlyn answered briefly.

-----------------------

Tag list:

@proceduralpassion @lovecatystuff @bethii1 @give-jack-a-lightsaber @thevelvetseries @lovingfanofupstead @thetwit @anotheronechicagobog @sadsot @chicagogirl2019 @cpdfan231 @bxrgesses @onechicago-upsteadrhekker​ @slytherinwitchy​ @itsdesiree86​ @halstudandruz​ @hereforthedale​ @cactiem​ @nhcwdw​ @anotherfan07​ @pinkrockstar19​ @rochyu​ @mollyc70​

[rae-sparda]

Dangerous Liaisons

A/N: Hey guys, we're baaaaaaaaaack with another chapter. Yaaay! I hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Chapter 3 - A meeting with the Devil's Mother

She knocked on the door feeling her undead heart thudding violently against her chest, her fear palpable. Soon enough, the door opened and Finn greeted her, his impassive face shifting to one of nearly happy that she was alone. “You’re alone. Wise choice.” She side glanced at him, resisting the urge to not roll her eyes. Yeah, like I had a choice… Gulping down her fear, she fully entered the room, her gaze falling between Esther’s hands.

“It’s only sage. I’ve spelled It so we can talk freely without fear of being overheard. That would be all, Finn. Thank you.” Dismissing her old son, the two soon were alone, and Katherine tried hard not to bolt after she heard the door closing.  “You must have a million questions for me, Elena. Please.” She gestured towards the sofa and the vampiress gulped, slowly making her way before seating and cursing the Salvatores for making her basically scream that she wanted to die.

“How are you alive? I mean… Are you a ghost or…?

“Not exactly. When I died the witch Ayana preserved my body with a spell. She was a close friend of mine and an ancestor of your friend Bonnie.” Katherine widened her eyes, surprised at the revelation, but knew her doppelganger would never let any information pass. She was as cunning as she could be and still pretend to be innocent. The nerve.

“So that’s why only Bonnie and her mother could open the casket?”

“They complete the Bennet bloodline. I drew power from them and their ancestors with me on the other side.”

“You’ve been on the other side for a thousand years?”

“Nature’s way of punishing me for turning my family into vampires. But there is a way for me to undo the evil I created.” Katherine was caught off guard, her surprise showing openly on her features.

“You’re gonna help us kill Klaus, aren’t you?”

“One thing at a time, Elena. For now, I simply need your help.” Her nervousness was only growing with each second more she passed beside the Original Bitch who was speaking so freely and seemed confident that Elena would help her. No surprises there, they all wanted to kill Klaus. “I understand Rebekah shared the story of my family. How I upset the balance of nature by turning my children into vampires.” Esther said while lit up a few candles on top of a paper that had a few things scribbled down, but Katherine couldn’t decipher what it was from where she was standing.

“She said that you did that to protect them from the werewolves.” By now, Katherine was more than happy to have force shared information with her shadow self, otherwise, she would have stuttered so much, the witch would have seen something different on her.

“It’s true. But in no time at all, they began to feed on human blood.” She poured water into a cup while saying that with such disgust that made Katherine ball her hands into fists to not say anything. They became what they were because of her! How could she not see that they were only children and she was the responsible one for that mess? “They ravaged the town with no remorse. Eventually, Niklaus turned against me.”

Getting closer, the vampire doppelganger still didn’t see how Elena would help her. “How are you gonna kill him? He’s immortal.” She nearly scoffed, but the Mikaelson’s matriarch was so serious and gazing at her intently like she was trying to read her soul.

“It will take time, magic, and your assistance.”

“What do I have to do then?”

“My children believe I’m holding this ball to celebrate our reunion. But in truth, I’ve gathered them together to perform a ritual. The first step requires the blood from the doppelganger.” Katherine widened her eyes and stiffened, feeling overwhelmed. She was going to be discovered and Esther would kill her in a heartbeat. “Only a drop. Its essence will be in the champagne toast later on this evening. Will you do it? Or shall I?” She asked revealing a silver dagger and holding it to her in a twisted way of offering her the chance to help her.

To not raise suspicions, she took out her glove and hold the dagger, pinching her finger before turning it towards the cup full of something she didn’t want to think about. Giving the dagger back to Esther, Katherine quickly put her glove back on, feeling nervous. Would it work? “Elijah is more suspicious than the others, so he may need more persuasion. But they must all drink at the toast in order to be linked as one.”

“What do you mean linked as one?” She was regretting her decision to come at all and was fearing for Elijah. This wench of a woman wanted to kill all her children? With no regrets?

“You said yourself Klaus can’t be killed. But tonight’s spell links all my children together so that if one goes, they all go.”

“What?” Her voice wavered and she suddenly felt the urge to vomit. She couldn’t believe that Esther would do such a cruel thing. And they used to say she and Klaus were the monsters...

“I love my family, Elena... But they are an abomination. I betrayed nature when I created them. It’s my duty to kill them.” Katherine didn’t even have to pretend to be shocked, since she was too struck to pretend another reaction and simply left in a daze.

“So how was my mother?” Elijah’s voice was enough to make her feel her dead heartbeat skyrocket and she gulped, taking a deep breath to calm herself in his presence, the urge to simply spill everything eating her.

“Intense.”

“And for what reason, she needed to speak with you in private?” His reaction seemed nearly funny like he was loving her reaction, from what; she couldn’t tell. Getting two flutes of champagne, the vampire doppelganger forced a smile on her face, glancing sideways involuntarily, meeting Esther’s eyes who showed a coldness even when she smiled at her and Katherine felt she couldn’t breathe. “Elena. Should I be concerned about my mother's intentions?” She snapped her head towards Elijah, glancing at him like he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen. Approaching him, she smiled, getting his flute and turning around to run, exchanging the flutes, and whining at the force he used to stop her. Frowning, she pouted and gave him her flute, her eyes hardened.

“No, Lijah... You don’t have to worry about mother dearest.” He gave her a side smile, approaching the doppelganger slowly, making her walk backward until her back collided with the wall.

“So, it’s true then? She’s forgiven Klaus?”

“It’s true.” She forced a smile on her lips, and Elijah let his eyes linger on her sinful lips.

“You forgot that I can always tell when you lie, Katerina.” Opening her mouth to reply, she was interrupted by the sound of clinking glass.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Waiters are coming around with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass. It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one. I’d like to thank you all for being part of this spectacular evening. Cheers.” She raised her glass and the doppelganger internally panicked. She had switched the wrong flutes. When Elijah got his flute, Katherine simply arched her brows, facing the older vampire mockingly.

“Since you’ve discovered me...” She dryly retorted, stealing his flute and drinking it in one go, just like the rest of his siblings. Before Elijah could try to question what the hell was she doing there, she flew trying to find Stefan to go home. After a few moments where she hid from Elijah, she finally found the younger Salvatore... Only, he wasn’t alone and was discussing with his brother, calling the attention of anyone that was leaving the ball.

“Okay, Stefan, nice one. You surprised me, bro. Good for you, but don’t think for a second that that fucking whore wi-”

“Damon, what are you doing?” Katherine bit out, grazing her teeth, wanting more than anything to break his neck again and burn his body just for fun to see him die. He barely turned when he heard her voice, his anger aimed at his brother.

“Oh, shut up, you little devil. Go away.”

“Damon, please! This isn’t you, what is wrong with you?” Scoffing he turned around to face her and gave a wicked grin, making her frown. Katherine gave a step back, but Damon's vamp sped at her, throwing her at the pool, and everyone stood shocked to see what happened, while she screamed and let herself fall into the water, internally screaming and killing Damon in a million different ways. Not even a second later, she was out, shivering and coughing, her gaze darting around wildly until she was hushed and hugged her savior.

“Go now, mister Salvatore. You’ve done enough this evening.” Elijah dismissed him and heard Katherine’s growl. The only thing keeping her from killing Damon was the way the Original’s body was engulfing her, and he should be thankful for this mercy.

“Elena... I can get you home.” Stefan’s voice was controlled and his rigid posture revealed he was not sure how to react.

“I’m fine... I’ll be okay... Elijah won’t let anyone hurt me, Stefan. You can go.” He nodded, only glancing at her once more before flashing out after his brother and Elijah took her to his bedroom to let her dry herself and use Rebekah’s clothes, much to her annoyance. When they returned to his bedroom, Elijah opened his mouth, but Katherine stopped him, saying they should go to her hotel’s room. “We can’t talk here. It’s not safe.” She whispered and he frowned, both vampires escaping through the windows. After a few seconds, they were inside her room and she bit her lip, messing her hair and telling him about his mother’s plan to kill them all.

“So, she wants to kill us all... And you linked yourself with my siblings... Why, Katerina?” She frowned and scoffed, crossing her arms.

“I have no idea if it worked. I might be a doppelganger, but I am a vampire.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She gulped and before she could reply anything, he disappeared, leaving her alone.

@umaficwriter @kalijahx @imgoingtofreakoutnow

[let-me-love-you-loki]

An Ending Within-Ch. 16

Chapter 16

           “No fucking way,” I said, looking at Jon as if I couldn’t believe what he’d just said to me. “Seriously?”

           He grinned, running a hand over his gingery hair. “Yeah, she told me two days ago.”

           I practically jumped from my seat and threw myself at him. My arms latched around his neck, hugging him so tight that I was sure he was going to stop breathing. I couldn’t stop laughing or crying.

           “Congratulations,” Seth said from nearby. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was grinning. “Do you know yet?”

           I leaned back with Jon’s face still cupped in my hands. My gaze searched his cornflower blue eyes. I knew Jon well enough by now to know when he was telling the truth and when he was lying.

           “It’s too early,” he replied shyly. He grinned in a way that reminded me of late nights on the road and heart-to-heart talks in a hotel room at three in the morning watching crappy cartoons.

           I hugged him again, kissing his cheek dramatically. “I hope it’s a girl.” The words were whispered almost silently, barely loud enough for him to hear.

           Jon wrapped his arms tight around me, squeezing until I thought my ribs would crack. It was the happiest I’d been in an awfully long time. “I hope so too.”

***

           Sefina giggled as I pushed her along backstage. It was strange seeing everyone again after almost a year away. Vastly different from the moment when I left because of my injury. A few of them turned down different corridors, refused to look at me. But most of them smiled happily, waving, and coming over to coo over Sefina.

            “It’s good to have ya back,” Becky said as she gathered me up. She hugged me hard. “It hasn’t been the same out here without ya.”

           Before I could say a single word, she swept around to the front of the stroller and grinned at her goddaughter. Her voice lifted, turning beautiful and lilting as she spoke. “Dia duit, mo chailín grin.”

           Sefina giggled and reached for Becky. I watched my daughter wriggle with happiness, practically begging to be picked up. “Oh, go ahead. She’ll be whine for hours if you don’t.”

           A moment later, Becky had Sefina on her hip and was heading toward catering. I watched them walk away, my daughter chattering at her godmother happily. Not long after, happy voices erupted from the lined tables. It wasn’t hard to discern Alexa, Bayley, and Sasha’s squeals of joy at seeing my daughter again.

           “Llane,” someone said from some distance away.

           Chills.

           Spikes and ice.

           Shivers and terror rooted deep in my gut.

           A heavy weight settled against my chest, making it hard to breathe. The urge to run shot adrenaline through my limbs. It took everything I had not to give in.

           I turned slowly, hoping that I didn’t look as completely terrified as I felt. My thoughts swirled, picking out glimpses and snapshots of the time before Sefina. Hospitals. Braces. Surgery. Numbness and pain.

           Ten feet away, Ronda stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed in jeans, boots, t-shirt, and that jacket that always made rage burn in my throat. Piper’s jacket was too good for her. Looking at her made my blood pressure spike.

           I didn’t want to be in the same room with her. Hell, the same state.

           My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I tried to speak. I could feel the words trying to put themselves together, to tell this woman exactly what I thought of her. To tell her everything she’d taken away from me. Before I could, the familiar sense of electricity crackled along my spine. I sank back even before Seth touched my waist, knowing that he would catch and hold me. He slipped one arm around my waist and quickly steered me down another hallway, leaving the woman who nearly killed me far behind.

           “What the fuck is she doing here?” Seth growled. His fingers tightened on my hip as he guided me into his locker room. I could feel the rage seething beneath the surface. His entire body vibrated with it.

           For a moment, I thought that was the reason why my entire body was shaking.

           The moment I reached it, I sank onto the bench. Ice slipped through my blood, crackling against my veins. Dizziness swept over my head. The world swirled, leaving me numb and frozen. Nauseated.

           “Hey,” Seth cooed, crouching down in front of me. “Hey…. Llane… Sophie… it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

           The shivering made my teeth rattle. I ached all over. I couldn’t catch my breath long enough to ask him what was happening to me. “Co—Col—Colby…”

           The rage in his face faded, became replaced by concern and worry. He dragged his gear bag closer and dug around in it. He found a sweatshirt, then tugged it roughly over my head. Another came out a moment later, and he wrapped it around my legs. Then he sat on the floor and pulled me into his lap, his hands rubbing furiously over limbs and my back to warm me.

           “I want you out of here,” he mumbled against my hair. He hugged me close, curling me tightly against the bulk of his chest. Slowly, moment by moment, heat worked its way into my body. “Goddamn them for bringing her back after what she did.”

           The air was rent by a sudden loud bang. The door burst open, ringing against the wall with a thud. Roman stalked in, his dark eyes nearly black with pure and unadulterated rage. His movements had an edge of violence to them as he crossed the room in just a few steps. Seth barely had time to protest before Roman leaned down and swept me up into his arms. I curled against his broad chest, breathing in the warm scent of ocean spray that always followed him. He clutched me tightly, his cheek against my hair.

           For a moment, there was something like peace in my chest. It felt like I was back in our old, beat up SUV, Roman sitting at my side and telling me stories in that soothing voice of his. Seth was there, driving and singing along to the alt-rock on the radio, while Jon—back when he’d been my Dean—slept in the passenger seat, drooling on the window.

           “I’m going to kill them,” Roman snarled, his arms tightening even further around me. I could feel the thunder in his words. “I am going to rip them apart with my bare hands. Every single one of them. Starting. With. Fucking Vince.”

           I whimpered at the rage in his voice. For the first time in years, I slipped back in time. Past Seth and Sefina. Past the Elite and the Shield. Past Hannah and Carl, Georgie and Bran. Past the sensation of being safe and loved. Past everything that made me feel worthy and like a human being.

           It was so clear, so real that I could almost reach out and touch the faded fabric of the sofa next to me. The blood was hot and sticky in my hair and along the side of my throat. Pain lashed through my face with every sluggish beat of my heart. My eyes were already swelling shut, the flesh of my face mottled purple and black, the stark white visible along my right cheekbone and the curve of my chin. It was darker every second. A shadow lengthened over the sofa, backlit so that I couldn’t make out the features.

           “Fucking kid. I’ll fucking kill you.”

           I knew this moment.

           This was the moment when I almost died.

           A scream rippled through the room. I flailed, wailing and thrashing. Arms tightened around me, a cage that made my terror spike. The memory of my foster father nearly beating me to death merged with the haze of the fall and everything that came after. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see.

           “O fea lou tuafafine laititi?” The words washed around my head, flitted through my brain. They came and went and came again like water lapping higher and higher on the shore. “Come on, itiiti, open your eyes.”

           “Llane… Sophie…” Another voice slipped in with the other, a voice that made sparks flicker along my limbs. “Look at me, Sophie. Look at me.”

           Fingers pressed against my face. I flinched, the memory of broken, exposed bone and bruised flesh too powerful. The screaming became a whine and then a faint whimper. Movement triggered vertigo that roiled my stomach. I coughed. I heaved and choked.

           My eyes fluttered open at the same moment that I vomited. I gagged as the scent hit me. It took a moment for Seth’s voice to pierce through the ache and sick. Roman’s followed soon after.

           “Relax, itiiti. Relax and breathe. It’s okay,” Roman said softly. He carried me back to the bench and sat me down slowly. “It’s okay.”

           Seth carefully pulled the sweatshirt over my head carefully, doing his best to contain the vomit. I watched, still trembling, as he balled it up and tossed it into the garbage. “Are you okay?”

           I tried to speak, but I couldn’t make the words come out. My jaw worked, trying to force them free.

           “I can’t believe this,” came a voice from down the hall. A series of stomping bootsteps echoed toward us, and I had another momentary flash of panic. Not a second later, Becky appeared at the door, Sefina on her hip. Alexa, Bayley, and Charlotte were right behind her. She was livid, her face almost as red as her hair.

           “That bitch has no right to be here,” Alexa snarled. She was the kindest person in the world until someone crossed the people she loved. “I have half a mind to jump her and not hold back.”

           It took a moment for them to take in the scene in front of them. Becky handed Sefina to Bayley and crossed the room. “Don’t you worry, Llane. We’re not letting her get away with this.”  

Tag List 

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@maelleoute​

[morgana-ren]

Im. I love you? Your answer to that ask is beautiful, also I forgot about the other meaning for weed for a moment and got confused like, 'is morgana-ren a stoner? Beefy weed muscles???' and now i cant help but imagine stoned Shiggy. Specifically him forcefully shotgunning his captive because hes bored and if hes getting stoned she might as well too. Laughing at her when she gets spacey. This is a fun train of thought lol, thanks for inspiring it

I am a ridiculous and incoherent person. My first instinct is to literally reply with complete gibberish to most things. Shaming me has absolutely Z E R O effect because I have no shame. I’m a ridonkulous person. Last time I got high, I just laid in bed singing “Secret tunnel, secret tunnel” for like 3 hours.

To be fair, I would also do that completely buttfuck sober.

Gods I wish I had a gif of Shig smonkin some donk wods, but since I don’t, you’ll have to settle for me writing it.

PSA after the fact: I AM SO SORRY IT GOT A LIL CREEPY BUT TO BE FAIR, IT’S ME AND IF YOU SENDIN ME SHIT YOU KNOW YOU HAVE TO BE REAL FECKIN’ SPECIFIC OR ELSE I’M GUNNA MAKE IT CREEPY also weed hits me way different than it does most folks so it’s really hard for me to be able to accurately describe how it might be to anyone else. SO imagine this is supervillain quirky weed he has special made to calm his...uh,.. never ending rage. also it’s ridiculously longer than I planned. cause I get carried away. anyway love you!

His room is dank and smells like mold and must.

Tight metal bindings cut into your wrists, leaving you raw with crusted blood despite the fact you stopped fighting days ago. Your tailbone feels bruised from constantly shifting on his worn down carpet, your legs prickling and aching from inactivity.

He’s kept you bound here for a while, handcuffs looped through the foot of his bed. You’re not entirely sure how long, since his ratty blackout curtains make it hard to see daylight. He’s got them taped down, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of light. Like most of his life, his room exists in total darkness.

Time has little meaning here.

He doesn’t leave you alone often, only really exiting the room to bring you food which you refuse to eat. Most of it has been kicked into the corner, the soft buzz of fruit flies accumulating more and more by the day. It frustrates him, but he’s keen on reminding you that he’s patient. You’ll relent eventually.

Truth be told, your willpower is starting to give. Your body is stiff and sore, head perpetually aching from crying. His moods are like whiplash, one second crooning to you how special you are to him, the next backhanding you and calling you a stubborn bitch. You don’t know what he wants from you. If the fates were merciful, he’d get it over with and just kill you.

Ending your life doesn’t seem like it’s high on his list of priorities.

He’s facing away from you now, tinkering with something on his desk by the light of his various computer monitors. You can’t make out what it is, only that he’s been at it for the past ten minutes. Grateful as you are for his lack of attention, it always makes you nervous when he gets preoccupied. It usually means he’s working on some new and exciting way to break you.

You take comfort in the momentary peace, some temporary reprieve from the invasive leer of those horrid crimson eyes scanning over you in the darkness. Whatever he’s doing, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Only steel yourself against what he gives you when he’s finished.

He reaches into his desk, pulling out a plastic bag of something you can’t make out. All you know is when you hear the ziplock open, a strange scent floods the room. It smells vaguely familiar, but between your fucked up headspace and even worse situation, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

Leaning against the little metal bed leg you’re imprisoned against, you realize just how heavy your eyes are as you rest the back of your head on his threadbare mattress. Fighting off oncoming waves of pulsing anxiety takes most of your energy reserve, and bouts of sleep tend to come few and far between when you’re sleeping in the den of a predator.You’re so tired, so worn down, and you don’t know what else he could do to you that he hasn’t already done or planning to do. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t considered saying that to him, but you feel like tempting the universe or him isn’t a great idea right now. Either way, your eyelashes feel like weights dragging you under into the sea of sleep.

You’re almost there when his chair squeaks and you jolt awake, that overwhelming sense of dread coming over you. Your instincts blare and somehow you just know his eyes are on you again, waiting for you to acknowledge him. He wants your attention, and he expects you to give it.

Dragging your exhausted lids open when you know you’ll have to see that terrifying man is a burden you haven’t grown accustomed to having quite yet, but it’s one you bear anyway. Besides, you know that if he thinks you’re ignoring him, he has no problem forcing you to look at him. It’s easier to just give him what he wants. He hurts you less that way.

So you do, and just like you expected, he’s simpering down at you, holding something you can’t make out in his hands. Gulping comes on impulse; he looks far too pleased and that never bodes well for you.

“Do you know what this is?”

He holds it out and it takes you a second to make it out in the dark, but you know that basic shape.

“I-is that a pipe?”

“At least you know that much.” He gives you a cheeky lip quirk, making heat rise in your cheeks. Palming it in one hand, he uses the other to fish in his pocket, one finger carefully pulled outside the kangaroo pouch of his jacket. Following his movements, your brows furrow and curiosity almost wills you to speak. The words stall in your mouth, however, when you see him pull a cheap lighter out between two fingers.

He flicks it a few times with his thumb, sparking the light and sending small cinders dancing across the his lap. After a few tries, it finally holds. The light across his face only makes him seem all the more sinister, exacerbating the shadows that reside in the craggy, marred flesh of his cheeks. The flame dances in his pupils and the orange tinged shine glimmers off the edges of his weirdly perfect, jagged teeth. It’s extremely unsettling.

He lets the flame die, picking his pipe back up and tapping it on the desk once or twice.

“I don’t do this often. I usually prefer to keep a clear head.” He lazily arches back in his chair, inhaling the dank stench of the sticky green plant packed in his pipe before returning his gaze to you. “But in some cases, I find it can help you relax.”

Bringing the pipe to his face, he wraps his chapped lips around the bit and sparks the lighter again. You watch as the flame is sucked toward the bowl, igniting the contents and bringing them to a dull simmer.Thumb twitching on the carb and pinkie pulled away, he inhales, letting his head lull back on the seat of his chair. After a few seconds and a suppressed cough or two, he leans forward and exhales, sending a splay of thick, billowing smoke directly into your face.

You turn your head, watery eyes clinging shut, but it’s not enough to keep the acrid stench from clogging through your sinuses. It constricts your throat, compelling an instinctive cough from deep in your chest. Whatever it is he’s smoking, it’s strong.

His high pitched laugh echoes off the barren walls of his room as you scrunch your nose and try to disperse the smoke pooled in your face. When the air finally clears, he’s leaning toward you, arms resting on his knees with the pipe in one hand and his lighter in the other. The little embers still burn beneath the lip of the bowl, little grey spirals rising up from the still burning plant clusters.

He holds it out to you (as if you could take it with your hands restrained behind your back), hyena-grinning as you scowl up towards him.

“You should try a little. It might make you a little more-” Pausing, he pretends to be in thought. More mockery, you really wish you were desensitized to it by now. “-friendly.”

“I would have been friendly if you hadn’t kidnapped me like some sort of psychopath!”

He rolls his eyes at your outburst, languidly pushing himself off of his dilapidated computer chair and crouching down next to you instead. You know better than to kick at him, he won’t hesitate to break your legs to keep you in line. All you can do is stare at him nervously as he shakes his shaggy pale hair out over his forehead, still sporting that unnerving expression. His scarlet eyes burn arguably brighter than fire from the pipe, and exponentially more threatening.

He moves a little closer into your space, bringing the piece back up to his lips and lighting it up once again. He takes a deep inhale this time, even deeper than the first. Chest puffed and breath held, his lanky arm reaches out back behind him places the still-burning pipe back on the desk, gaze never leaving yours.You figure he’s going to blow it in your face again, either to be annoying or to try and give you some sort of shitty second rate high to make you more malleable.

It’s obnoxious, but not even close to the worst thing he’s done to you.

Yet, his cold, dry fingers grab at your jaw, forcing you to keep your attention on him. A chipped nail from his thumb prods at your lower lip and you realize he wants you to open your mouth. You could tell him to go fuck himself, but that only gives him what he wants, if only for a moment. Instead, you choose to glower at him.

If looks could kill, he would probably keel over, but unfortunately you live in a world where he has the upper hand. He squints at you, something you know would be equally as furious as your own grimace if his features had the freedom to express it. The fingers on your chin clamp down, digging into your soft skin in a bruising grip. The more you defy him, the more he punishes you, and his large hands have more than the power they need to cause you pain.

Eventually you feel your jaw start to crack. You try to hold out, try to stay your ground, but it becomes too much. Between his brutal strength and your already weakened condition, it’s no use fighting him on something he really wants.

You open your mouth, if only to cry in pain, and he immediately crashes his lips against yours.Teeth clack as you try to shake him off, but it’s too late. He’s breathing his air into your lungs, caustic mixture of the taste of the weed and the bitter scent of his breath swirling deep inside you. You try to heave it back at him, but the damage is done. Smoke barely seeps from the tiny cracks he allows between your faces, and your need to breathe is stronger than your ability to fight, so eventually, you relent.

You gulp the air he gives you down, just wanting him to get the fuck away from you. You can feel his lips quirk in a smile as you fight the urge to spit up from the foul scent of his exhale, ripped and bloodied lips scratching against yours. Eventually when he does pull away from you, you go into a hysterical coughing fit and between your bouts, you can hear him cackle.

You finally manage to calm yourself, but whatever it is he’s made you inhale, it’s strong. Stronger than anything you’re used to. Even second hand, your head is already humming, and you can feel your chest tighten against your will.

“You feel it, don’t you?” High pitched giggling and a weirdly gentle brush of a hand across your buzzing, swollen cheek. You go to swat him off, hissing in pain when the metal edge round holding you back cuts into an already existing cut. “Soon you won’t have any fight left in you at all.”

He leaves you alone for a minute, door clicking behind him. You catch your breath in his absence, eyes scanning your surroundings. You look for something, anything he has left within your reach that you can use to escape. It’s what you do during the exceedingly brief moments he’s not around, and so far, it hasn’t yielded any results, but you refuse to give up.

The curtains likely mean that there’s presumably a window behind there. If you can just get free, you might be able to jump out. Problem is you’re stuck with your hands restrained behind you on a metal bed post. It doesn’t matter how much you kick and scream, no one ever comes, so it’s probably safe to say whoever is below or above you doesn’t give a shit. You need to get out of these cuffs.

He smokes, at least occasionally. He’s probably got a bobby pin around here for scraping. If he’s anything like your mates, they probably litter the floor. To be fair, even if you get one, you don’t really know what to do with it. You could try your hand at lockpicking?

Heh. Hand. Get it? Cause all those hands?

Focus.

The biggest problem right now is the handcuffs. Technically, you could get out of them, but you’d have to disjoint your fingers to do it, which takes away from your already pathetic chances at escaping. It hurts to move your wrists, let alone yank on them. Why the fuck did this asshole have handcuffs anyway? Unless he’s doing some kinky shit in his down time. You wouldn’t put it past him, he’s obviously a weird guy. He seems like the type to be into some dirty stuff. You don’t know who with, but there’s probably villain fuckers out there he could find and take advantage of. Gross.

You audibly laugh.That’s funny.That’s really funny. You don’t know why, but the thought makes you giggle uncontrollably. Your mind refuses to stay on track.

Fucking focus!

Somewhere far away, you hear the door open and his heavy footsteps off to the side of you. Too late. You’re still laughing.

“Hey Shigaraki-”

He’s leaning down next to you, fucking with something behind you. Your hands. He’s messing around your hands. He’s cold. Why are his hands always so goddamn cold? Is that why he’s a villain? Cold hands? That would make you a villain too.

Your head feels several sizes too big, and you can’t help but think about how he smells like dust. Everything feels slow. You can feel your heart pumping. You can hear it too.

“-You should like, just let me go.That would be kinda cool. My hands hurt.”

You don’t notice they aren’t even cuffed anymore, or that he’s scooping you up in his arms and gently placing you on his bed.

“Don’t try to fight, now. You need a tolerance to before it’ll feel normal. You’ll only hurt yourself, and that would be such a shame.”

You can tell he’s mocking you again, but you just chortle because the words are processing like a slurry. The back of your head feels so soft. It’s definitely not the awful metal he’s made you crick your neck on the past little while. He’s touching your arms and it tickles. Flashes of his face play in your mind a little slower than they’re probably actually happening. It’s terrifying, but the fear doesn’t register. You wanna touch his face. You bet it feels funny.

You can hear the click of handcuffs again, and you know he’s cuffed you once again (so rude), just somewhere new now. Your fingers grip and you feel metal bars. A bed frame. Again. Uuugh. You kick your feet a little and they bounce off the mattress. Bouncy.

There’s a weight shift near your feet, and before you can really understand what’s happening, he’s on top of you, face hovering less than an inch above yours. Your cheeks are burning as his flaxen hair tickles and curtains you, and no matter how hard you want to, you can’t stop staring at his eyes. They’re so fucking intense you swear they scorch you. Like an abyss, you feel yourself being swallowed inside them as they stare long into you. Hate. Rage. So much embodied negativity you can practically feel it. Panic blooms in your chest but your body is reacting too slow. All you can do is squirm.

“Shh-” He’s caged your head in his arms, and his breath is glossing your cheek, just as sour as before but somehow you know what’s about to happen is much worse than forcefully smoking you out. “This’ll be much better for you if you relax and give in. Who knows? You could even enjoy it.”

He grinds his clothed pelvis into yours, and while somewhere inside your head, sirens are blaring, all your body can process is pressure against your most sensitive area. You whine, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips to yours again. Your mouth is slack and moist, so it’s nice and easy for him to slide his slimy, disgusting tongue down your throat. With your brain short circuiting from both shock and whatever he’s made you consume, your body doesn’t have enough control over its facilities to fight back.

He kisses you long and hard, if you can call whatever he’s doing to you kissing. It’s more like he’s trying to devour you. Sloppy, wet, and possessive, like he’s trying to choke you with his essence. It could have been a minute. It could have been hours. You don’t know.

When he does finally pull away, you can feel your stomach lurch as he laps at the string of spit that connects you to him, but you only blink your eyes wearily despite your extreme bodily reaction. You feel sleepy, or more accurately, your eyelids feel kinda heavy. Really heavy. Something visceral is telling you to stay awake, to keep fighting, but you just can’t. You can hear yourself speak but you don’t even know what you’re saying. You don’t remember.

“You’re cute like this, all spacey and stupid.” He flicks your forehead and your eyes flicker back open, but only briefly. “I guess it hit you kinda hard, huh? Sorry about that. I should have warned you. It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He presses his mouth to yours again, a little softer this time. You’re almost out at this point, everything feels so heavy. So sluggish. You barely feel his long, thin fingers glide slowly up your shirt.

“I think you could come to like it here with me if you stop being stubborn. But that’s okay. I forgive you. Like I told you before. I’m patient. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

[jensengirl83]

No Regrets

Dean x reader

Word count-2004

Warnings-Angst, language, death

Summary-Reader has feelings for Dean but has never told him. Will she have a chance before it is too late?

A/N- This is a request from @sutton2001​. I hope it is what you were wanting!

“Y/n I am asking you nicely, please stay back on this one.” Dean had been all but begging her to stay at the bunker. This hunt was going to be a bad one. They had gotten word of a horde of demons two states over. The numbers didn’t sound good and he didn’t want her getting hurt.

“Dean, I am a hunter. I was before I met you. I am going on this hunt because it is my job!” Y/n was not lying, but she was not telling the whole truth. She was in love with Dean and could not stand the thought of him getting hurt and her not be by his side.

Y/n had met the boys through Bobby. Her father being a hunter who had helped Bobby from time to time. Her father had been killed not long after her sixteenth birthday, leaving her nowhere to go but to Bobby’s. That is the first time she had seen Dean. He had stopped by with John, them needing Bobby’s help with some lore. She was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on a stack of books in the floor, when the door opened. She lifted her eyes and met the most beautiful green eyes she had ever seen. His dirty blonde hair sticking up disheveled on his head. She had been entranced with him ever since.

They stayed in contact over the years and the boys had asked her to move in with them when they had discovered the bunker. She did not hesitate, of course, not turning down the opportunity to be close to Dean. She had always had a crush, it turning to love after about a year of living and hunting with him. She could not tell him how she felt. She was too scared of the rejection and ruining what friendship they had.

“Fine, but you stay close and listen to what I say.” Dean and his stubbornness. It was endearing and maddening at the same time.

“Okay Dean. I do know how to kill demons unless you have forgotten.” Her hand is on her hip with her eyebrow raised.

“I know that Y/n. We are going to be outnumbered so we have to play it smart.” Dean knows she is capable, but this is not a normal demon hunt. The numbers more than they usually fight in one place.

“Well are we going to keep talking about it or go deal with it?” She wants this conversation to be over with.

“Go pack a bag sweetheart, we leave in fifteen minutes.” Dean rolls his eyes at her sassiness. She would not be Y/n without it.

“Aye aye captain!” Dean laughs as she turns on her heels to go pack, silently praying that this hunt will go without a hitch.

Twenty minutes later they are in Baby and on the road. Sam riding shotgun with his nose in his phone as usual. Y/n in the backseat, leaning up between the brothers, her arms folded on the seat. Dean’s cassette of choice playing in the background. She was feeling uneasy about this hunt, one of the reasons she refused to stay back. If something went wrong, she wanted to be there. Dean’s voice makes her turn her head to look at him. His voice a little off key singing the words to ‘Night Moves’. Dean feels her eyes on him and flashes her a smile. The smile that reaches his eyes and makes them crinkle. She loves this man more than she could ever put into words. She sends up another prayer that her gut is wrong this time.

Seven-hour drive and a lot of Sam whining about the music, they finally arrive in the town. Sam goes to check them in to the hotel while her and Dean wait in the car. The bad feeling increasing the closer they made it to the town. She has no idea what is going to happen, but if her feeling is right, it is not going to end well. Lost in her thoughts, she does not see Dean staring at her. He can see the tension and anxiety written all over her face.

“Penny for your thoughts sweetheart.” Dean laughs when his voice causes her to jump with a squeal.

“Damn it Dean! You scared me to death!” Y/n yells clutching her chest, her heart in her throat.

“You look alive to me.” He is still laughing as he dodges her hand.

“Very funny Winchester.” She rolls her eyes. He is always one to crack a stupid joke.

“Seriously Y/n, what is going on it that head of yours. I thought you were going to chew your bottom lip off!” She had not noticed she was biting her lip. A habit she has when she is overthinking.

“I have a bad feeling in my gut Dean. I don’t think this hunt is going to end well for us.” She wants to kick herself. Why did she tell him the truth? He will try to make her stand down for sure now.

“Y/n sweetheart, Me and Sammy do this all the time. We will be fine, but you might want to…” She cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. No way she is staying back and not being there to help them.

“No Dean! I am going. If my feeling is right, something bad is going to happen and I will not be sitting in a hotel room by myself. I will be there if either of you get hurt! Got it?” She was leaving no room for him to argue. He was not winning this time.

“Fine but please stay behind me and Sammy and watch your back.” He is looking right in her eyes. His expression serious but something else in it too. She cannot quite make it out.

“I promise Dean.” She smiles at him as he smiles back. The car door opening ending the conversation.

“I got us a room. We can drop off our stuff and gear up to kill these demons and go back home.” Sam says getting back in the passenger seat. Dean puts the impala in drive and parks in front of their room.

Forty-five minutes later and they are back in Baby and ready to hunt. The demons are supposed to be holed up in an old warehouse right outside town. Y/n gets more nervous the closer they get. The feeling she has had all day increasing with every mile. What will she do if something happens to one of them? She is in love with Dean, but Sam is like her brother. Either one would be a loss she could never get over. Dean can sense her fear as they get closer, looking in the rearview mirror every few minutes to look at her. Y/n sits back and tries to calm down. Dean does not need to be distracted by worrying about her while they kill these bastards.

They finally arrive, parking a little distance away as not to be detected. Angel blades, holy water and salt in their hands, they make their way to the door of the warehouse. Dean signals Sam to go around the back and push any demons there towards him and Y/n in the front.

“Stay close sweetheart. Keep your eyes and ears open and let’s go kill these sons a bitches.” Dean whispers to her and places a kiss to her forehead. She smiles and nods as they make their way through the door. That is when everything went to hell.

There were a lot more than they had expected. Dean and Y/n were surrounded in mere minutes, both punching, kicking and stabbing their way through. Sam had managed to kill the ones in the back and had made his way to her and Dean. They finally manage, after what seemed like hours, to take them all down. All of them bruised and cut, but they had made it. Y/n was smiling at the boys from across the room where she had dropped the last demon when Dean’s eyes widened, and he began to scream.

“Y/n run!” He and Sam were in a full run towards her, but she did not run. She instead turned on her heels to see what they were looking at. The biggest mistake she would make in her life.

“Y/n no!” Dean is moving as fast as he can, but he was not fast enough.

As soon as she had turned around, she was eye to eye with a demon they had somehow missed. The evil smile on his face the only thing she registered at first, then the searing pain right below her ribcage. She looked down to see the knife in the demon’s hands, buried to the hilt. The demon yanked the knife out of her side and began to run, Y/n’s knees going weak and falling to the floor. Dean had made it in time to catch her before she hit the cold dirty concrete floor as Sam kept going after the demon.

“Dean….I am so sorry.” Y/n is apologizing her mouth filling with the taste of copper.

“Shhh sweetheart. We are going to get you out of here. You will be just fine Y/n.” Dean is putting pressure on the wound, but the blood is gushing out between his fingers. Quickly making a puddle in the floor under Y/n’s body.

“No Dean. I am not leaving this room alive, so promise me something ok?” Y/n reaches up to cup Dean’s cheek in her hand while she still has the strength.

“Y/n please don’t say that. I will get you out of here and Cas can come heal you.” Dean leans his face into her hand, tears starting to stain his cheeks.

“Dean please, let me say this. You have to promise no…” She starts to cough, blood running out of the corners of her mouth. “No deals. Promise me that Dean!” She finally able to get her words out.

“I promise sweetheart because you are not going to die!” Dean’s body is wracked with sobs now. He knows she is not going back with them alive this time, but he cannot admit it to himself.

“I have to say this quick so do not interrupt me please. I love you Dean. I have for years but I never told you because I did not want to ruin what we had. That is why I have always stayed Dean, always followed you wherever you went. I could not bear the thought of not being with you. Knowing it ends like this I would do it all over again. I have no regrets Dean, so do not eat yourself up with guilt over this. You hear me Dean?” Dean nods his head. “Tell Sammy I love him, and I will be waiting for you both on the other side.” Dean places as kiss to her lips. Their first and last kiss.

“I love you too Y/n.” Dean whispers to her as he lays his forehead against hers, reaching to intertwine their fingers. His other hand coming up to caress her cheek.

“Keep fighting Dean….you and Sam kick it in the ass ok?” She struggles to let out a laugh but instead coughs, choking on her own blood.

“I promise sweetheart.” Dean can see the life draining from her eyes. His heart is shattering into a million pieces as she squeezes his hand one last time, the last whisper of breath leaving her body. Her once bright and beautiful eyes are now dull and lifeless. Dean is laying across her, sobs wracking his body as he holds her in his arms like he should have a long time ago.

If only she could make him feel what she felt as she took her last breath. How happy she was that if she had to go, she went looking into his eyes. She drifted away feeling the love between them.  She died peaceful and with no regrets.

Tags: @flamencodiva @sorenmarie87 @foxyjwls007 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @voltage-my2dlove @hardcoresupernatural @marvelouslysherlockedhunter @lyarr24​

[punksarahreese]

Blue | La Douleur Exquise

Nosdecember day 24 | @neworleansspecial

Hanahaki!AU; Sarah starts suffocating on her flowers at work

CW: Hanahaki disease, vomiting/coughing up blood, medical gore, child abuse mention

***

“Doctor Bekker?” Sarah called from where she stood by the nurse’s station. Ava was in treatment one with a patient, though she looked up at the call of her name. She must have excused herself to the patient’s family because soon she was standing in front of Sarah and the resident had to force a polite smile.

“You paged?”

“Oh, yes,” Ava passed her a tablet with a chart pulled up, “A girl came in with an arrhythmia, presumably from an undiagnosed heart condition. She flinches every time I move and is anxiously looking at her father for his consent before speaking.”

“So you’re thinking abuse?”

“Looks that way, I figured a shrink would know best.”

Sarah nodded, ignoring the way her chest clenched a little when the surgeon leaned a bit closer to zoom in on something on her chart. She knew by then that she was suffering from Hanahaki disease, caused by Ava herself, but she hadn’t told anyone. She felt foolish, knowing she should make an appointment with a specialist and schedule a removal surgery. Still, she hadn’t let herself even humour the thought. Removing her flowers would mean tearing out every feeling she had for Ava. She knew this would kill her in the end but she couldn’t bring herself to kill it first, not yet.

“A history of broken bones and her x-ray today showed calcifications on her ribcage that suggest untreated rib fractures.”

“Poor kid,” Sarah mumbled as she looked over the x-ray Ava pointed out, “You want me to speak with her or the parents?”

“I’ll deal with them, take them to sign something. You talk to the girl, just be gentle; she’s scared”

“Of course,” Sarah couldn’t help the sigh of relief when Ava left to go escort the parents to a conference room, feeling the pressure in her chest ebb away. She had quickly learned that the closer she was to the subject of her affections, the more pain her flowers caused. She had done research on the petals she had begun coughing up weeks ago, unnerved by the blood speckling the pink and purple flowers she didn’t recognize. Barberton daisies, google claimed, were native to South Africa. That made sense, especially since Hanahaki was often characterized by flowers significant to the patient’s love interest. Daisies were beautiful, they used to be one of Sarah’s favourite flowers, but now that she had seen far too many covered in her own blood she had begun to hate them.

With Ava out of the room, Sarah had no problem sitting down with their patient. The girl was no older than seven, far too young to be exposed to any type of violence. She was scared, that was obvious, and it took a fair amount of coaxing before she would speak to Sarah. Slowly, the psychiatrist did get her to open up and she hid behind her hands as she told her the truth in a hushed whisper. Her dad got angry, she explained, and mom wasn’t much better. She was punished for many things, pointing out her most recent bruise; a big red welt across the back of her thighs.

“I didn’t finish my dinner…” she admitted softly, as though she was afraid Sarah too would punish her for that. The doctor immediately reassured her that she did nothing wrong, waving in a nurse to call child-family services as soon as possible.

Sarah should have paid more attention, because it was at that moment that the girl’s father returned to the treatment room. He must have heard her ask Monique to make the call, since it wasn’t before long that the room was full of yelling.

“You stay out of my family’s business, bitch!” he was yelling at Sarah, quickly having her backed against the wall. When Sarah cried out because she ran into the sharps container mounted on the wall, Ava had already walked into the room. Mo ran off to call security, all of them worried about what this man was capable of. The patient was in tears, shrieking at her dad to leave the nice doctor alone because it wasn’t her fault. Ava had the guy’s hand pinned behind his back the second he looked ready to hit Sarah, dragging him towards the door.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on her, Mr. Klein,” she spat, “Or you will be escorted off the premises.”

That had the man shouting more expletives at her, cursing out every female staff member in the general vicinity. Sarah had managed to get away from the wall, thanking Ava quietly as she walked back over to the girl. She was breathing heavily, hyperventilating out of fear, and she looked ready to pass out.

“Hey, Lena, you’re safe,” Sarah promised softly, leaning over to turn up the oxygen to ease her breathing. A quick glance at her monitors had her concerned though, her heart rate was skyrocketing and her oxygen stats only decreasing.

“Ava?” she called, not thinking about the way the surgeon preferred to be on a title basis with everyone but Connor. She was too worried, knowing this father had sent his daughter into a panic attack and maybe triggered something more severe.

Doctor Bekker was by her side in seconds, checking the stats herself and calling for an EKG. Her blood pressure was oddly high for a young child, the child having trouble speaking and grabbing at Sarah’s hand for reassurance.

“Lena?” Ava leaned over her with her penlight, “Can you follow this for me?”

Sarah watched as she tried to complete a quick neuro exam, soon realizing that the child’s right pupil was sluggish and not reactive. In seconds Mo was paging a neuro consult, while Ava and Sarah tried to keep the patient calm and awake.

“A stroke?” Sarah rasped, struggling to breathe herself because of how close her and the other woman had been standing while tending to Lena.

“Something like that,” Ava nodded, “Transient ischemic attack maybe? If she’s been abused for a while she could have had an aneurism or bleed that was missed.”

“She’s so little,” Sarah breathed, giving the child’s hand a gentle squeeze when she noticed her eyes falling shut, “Lena, stay with us, honey.”

Sarah wasn’t sure how exactly she made it through the next few minutes. Her chest hurt more than it ever had before, her breath catching every time Ava leaned closer to check their patient or the monitors. She knew this was bad, it shouldn’t get in the way of her work, but she couldn’t help it. By the time Sam walked into the room, asking her to move so he could check the patient’s cognitive function, her vision was getting fuzzy. Ava must have noticed because suddenly the other woman was taking her hand and dragging her into the hall, which had Sarah’s chest clenching horribly at the minor contact.

“Sarah,” she never used her first name and it made the resident want to cry, “Are you alright?”

She could only manage a small nod, eyes focused on the hand Ava still had in hers. The touch burned, making Sarah want to rip her hand away but not having the strength to even think about doing that.

“Your lips are blue,” Ava pointed out, “And your hands. I think we need to get you into a treatment room.”

“I’m f-fine,” she rasped, “I’ll be okay.”

“If you’re sick you shouldn’t be working; besides, you look like you’re about to pass out. Let me do a quick exam, please? Cyanosis with such a quick onset is a major cardio concern, Doctor Reese.”

That had Sarah yanking her hand from Ava’s grasp, ready to flee. There was no way she would let her do a cardiac workup on her, it would involve X-rays and scans so she would definitely notice her Hanahaki. Sarah didn’t want anyone knowing, but the thought of Ava in particular having any idea about it scared her more than surgery to remove the damn thing.

“I’m fine, Doctor Bekker,” she muttered, taking off down the hall before Ava could say another word. She rushed into the downstairs staff bathroom, sighing heavily when she realized it was thankfully empty. She felt déjà vu hit her hard as she stared at her reflection, the same place she always was during episodes at work, noting that Ava had been right about her being cyanotic. She was breathing harshly, gasping with every inhale because she couldn’t get enough oxygen otherwise. This was bad, she realized, as she felt like someone was squeezing her lungs so hard they would explode.

She didn’t even have time to grab onto the counter before she collapsed on the floor, her legs buckling without her consent. A sound of annoyance escaped Sarah, frustrated with how much pain she was in; all because of Ava. She didn’t blame her though, how could she? The other woman had no idea of her effect on Sarah, she just didn’t love her. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t return Sarah’s feelings, it was Sarah’s own fault for being foolish enough to let it get this bad.

She couldn’t suppress the rough cough that shook her body, ripping angrily at her chest from the inside. It was a watery cough and Sarah knew her palm would be bloodied when she pulled it away from her mouth. She was suffocating from the inside and she didn’t know what to do, cursing quietly when she saw the handful of petals that had come up with her forceful coughing.

Maybe it would finally kill her, she mused bitterly to herself. Dying in the hospital bathroom was not her ideal way to go but at least she wouldn’t have to explain herself to anyone.

[thequeenb]

Our story (part 6)

Surprise bitch, you thought you have seen the last of me

Pairings: KamilahxMC

Amy walked through a void, voices could be heard from all the directions. She felt like she was in another universe surrounded by memories that creeped inside her mind

"I love you Amy, i love you so much" Kamilah said looking at her with pure adoration

"Kamilah!! Can you hear me? Please get me out of here.. please" her voice was pleading but everything stopped as the dark figure approached

The memories faded and she was left with nothing but darkness

"Don't waste your time silly human, no one can hear you" the ancient voice echoed through the void and Amy could swear she heard this voice before

"Let me prove it to you"

Suddenly Amy could see a bright light, a window like memory she could access. As she approached closer she could hear her mother's voice, her father's cries.

It was her funeral.

"No..no i am here! Mother..Kamilah..no" fresh tears ran through her cheeks as she tried to wake up from this nightmare but she couldn't, she was trapped watching the people she loves mourn her.

"Get me out!! Why are you doing this to me?"

The figure laughed simply yet so evilly "You are my access to freedom"

Amy didn't listen, she simply approached trying to snap back to reality. Her screams filled the darkness. She ran, like there was no tomorrow but the memory started to fade away.

Before it disappears she saw Kamilah behind a tree watching from a distance. "Kamilah!!" She screamed with all her will but she was left alone, in the dark.

___

She couldn't bare the sight, she couldn't blend with the crowd and pretend like it wasn't her fault. She knew that her world was too dangerous for Amy, she knew that loving her would have consequences but Amy knew it as well. No matter the danger, the fame, the complications Amy was always there choosing Kamilah over and over again.

She watched as the crowd started to walk away one by one. Her parents were the only ones left saying their goodbyes. Her father was on his knees reaching out hoping he could feel Amy's hand. Her mother was distant, not a single tear was running down her eyes

Kamilah was angry. She was disappointed in herself for letting Amy get hurt, she was angry at Amy's mother for being so heartless towards them. But most importantly she repeated Gloria's words over and over again.

How could she not know? How could she not see the signs? She felt so stupid, so helpless and alone. Lily didn't knew yet, Adrian didn't knew, nobody knew she died. They all saw the news about the accident but they don't know the bitter truth.

When no one was there she approached hesitantly. Every step felt heavier than the last. What could she possibly say? I am sorry i couldn't protect you? I am the one to blame? Even if she said so there was no point. Amy was the one buried underneath dirt and she was here on earth not knowing what to do next.

She held a red rose on her hand, one that doesn't mean anything anymore.

"Do you remember the first time i bought you flowers? You kept them in a vase even when they were ugly and dead" she said focusing her gaze on the flower she held.

"And you said 'they are beautiful because you gave them to me' " she smiled bitterly as she let the rose on the stone, her hand shaking.

"My life.." she said exhaling heavily

"My life was like a dead rose and you just came into it and made it worth living, beautiful"

A single tear fell from her eye but she didn't wipe it, she let it roll down her cheek and it died on her lips leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth, just like the life she have to live without Amy.

"Kamilah.." she could have sworn she heard Amy's melodic voice in the distance. She closed her eyes focusing on her sensations.

And there she heard it again..and again.

"Amy.." she breathed out trying to understand the purpose of what is happening.

She turned around only to find Gloria staring at her. Disappointed she brushed off the possibilities of Amy calling her name. She probably miss her to much.

"She wouldn't want you to be sad" Gloria said as Kamilah turned her back on her.

"And what would you know? You never loved her" Kamilah spat out angrily

"I could say the same about you dear" her tone was ironic triggering Kamilah's anger even more but she didn't turn to face her, because if she did it would be her funeral

"Look what loving her did to her"

In an instant Gloria was held by the neck as Kamilah lift her from the ground

"You really think you know what we had but you dont" she said squeezing her throat tighter

"If you didn't tell them where we were she would have been here!!" Kamilah rose her tone more than she intended, filling in the deadly silence

Gloria was gagging trying to take a small breath but Kamilah's hand didn't let any air access her body. Her eyes widened as her face turned blue

"You could have told her the truth, you should had protected her like most mother's do!!"

Unexpectedly she let Gloria fall to the ground as she was taking long deep breaths coughing

"I don't want to see you again because if i do.." Kamilah said kneeling besides Gloria caressing her cheek "i wont hesitate to end you"

Without another word Gloria tried to stand up to leave but she made the deadly mistake to speak "I am glad..you don't..have her"

___

Amy felt her head was spinning, her senses were intense like nothing she ever experienced. She could smell the earthy scent around her. She could feel the heat and the small space she was in but mostly she could feel that devastating hunger that torn her apart.

"Wha..what is happening"

Two pointy teeth poked her lower lip and the realisation settled in she is a vamprire. As soon as she realised what was happening her heart started racing.

She kicked the coffin with all her strength "Open you piece of shit!!" And she kicked again and again until she was free.

She started trying to find the surface and as she did so she realised she didn't had the need to breathe nor felt like she was suffocating. After a while she felt the air hit her hand and she pushed harder getting out off the ground.

As soon as she felt the air access her lungs her senses kicked harder as her hunger grew. She felt out of control, like she wasn't even in her own body but then she saw a figure and she approached stunned.

Her vision was blurry as the need for blood consumed her completely. She could smell fresh blood that wasn't that far away from her. As she walked further holding her self up there she saw her. Kamilah standing before a dead body, her daggers filled with delicious blood

She walked to her direction forcing herself to speak "Kamilah.." she said breathless

Kamilah gazed at Gloria's body, her eyes were red with anger, her heart was filled with loss and pain but then she heard a whisper, Amy whispering her name.

Turning around she saw her before her own eyes. Her clothes were covered in dirt and she was holding herself up with difficulty

"Amy.." she breathed out as she reached for her but the moment she did so she collapsed on her hands

"It cant be.."

Tag list: @kamilah-the-bloodqueen @wildsayeed @samgtt700 @nydeiri @la-guera-69 @thepotatobleh @justastranger-passing @blackphenix9527 @mrskamilxh @onyxgaytrash @scarlet-letter-a0114 @lovestruck-sapphic-choices @sergeant-pepper-loves-choices @justanother-lesbo @justyourlocaldyke @vonda-b-real