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etherati · 10 months ago

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Taproot - (1/25)

To celebrate finally finishing this monster of a fic after 4 goddamned years, I'm going to be posting the full chapters here on Tumblr, serialized like in the olden days, to make it easier to digest a bit at a time. Expect an installment once a week. This is a sequel to Wellspring, and is a post-S2 AU with, at this point, established Trephacard--plus some historical flashbacks, family drama, bloody showdowns, and a lot of secrets waiting in the wings. And feels. All the feels. If you like those things--or, for reasons I cannot disclose at this time, dear old Leon Belmont--consider giving this one a spin.

Summary from Ao3:

Taproot (n): The oldest, most central root; that from which all else arises.

Every family has its roots, diving down into the shadowy, secretive earth--and there's no such thing as a bloodless inheritance.

🎵 Music pairing: The Old Ways - Loreena McKennitt

Next -- >

Sunrise over the Black Sea—golden light spilling into the water like its own sort of glowing, glittering liquid, diffusing through the brine and illuminating it in hues of orange and amber and violet-pink—is one of the most beautiful sights the natural world has to offer. There are other striking sunrises to be had, and other bodies of water prone to making a person feel overwhelmingly small, but nowhere else do the two combine into such a spectacle, delighting the eyes even as it harrows the soul.

At least, nowhere else that Sypha has been, and she has been a lot of places.

She twists the end of her walking stick into the damp sand and gravel. This means that she’s close; she can tell by the particular mineral-laden smell of the salt and the angle of the light that she’s still a bit north of Enisala, but not by very far. There’s no shame in having arrived at the sea slightly off from her target. The only truly accurate navigation is by the stars—and the lingering presence of the night creatures and the winter’s bitter chill have had her travelling mostly with the sun.

Overhead, the keening cries of shorebirds as they dip and weave, coming in low to gather at the waterline, to pick over the tide pools and sandbars. The breakers beat the rocky shore, relentless. There’s a stark beauty to the place, to the way life struggles forward despite its days being filled only with further struggle. Tenacity. Tenacity, she understands, and all the spoils it brings.

This would be a lovely place to bring Adrian and Trevor to, she thinks; let them see this dawn, let the three of them roughhouse in the waves and drink sweet fruit wine in the sun and make love in the cool, damp sand once twilight settles in, all softness and blue-black shadows and the murmur of the tide. When the weather is warmer. When the sea is greener than it is grey, and the wind coming off of it doesn’t threaten to peel the skin from her face and hands. When they feel safe, leaving the castle unguarded for a while.

That time is, with certainty, not yet now. But she’s working on it. She’s still not gotten used to travelling alone, honestly hopes she won’t ever have to, but sometimes needs must. And that’s the entire point of this, of having to be away from them for so long.

She misses them—misses her family, too, but that’s an old ache that she’s grown accustomed to. Missing Adrian and Trevor is a different kind of hurt, sharp and fresh, made worse by knowing how badly they’re missing her in return. When she was growing up, travelling constantly on journeys measured in seasons, a month had felt like nothing. Now, it feels like an eternity.

There’s no snow and ice out here, this close to the water; there never is, in her experience, until you get to the deep, deep north. The sand is wet and the coarse stone crushed into it grinds under her staff. It’s blunt and thick, as writing implements go, and there’s no way to get any detail—and anyway, she’s no artist.

She still leaves a chunky, lopsided heart in the sand, as if marking the spot to return to later—as if the waves won’t wash it away mere hours after she’s left this place.

The sun is high overhead by the time the crumbling stone fortress of Enisala comes into view on the horizon. It feels wonderful, even if winter sun never warms one through the same way summer sun does; she drops her hood to bask in it, shifting her pack on her shoulders.

The ruins themselves are all beige-grey rock, the sky even more devoid of color, stormy and brooding. As she gets closer, though, she can see little pops of color all around the perimeter of the old fortress—blanket-draped caravans, colorful paper lanterns, artifacts of every culture the trains have come into contact with over the past year. Anything to make the space lively.

This place has always felt oddly significant to her—with its ruins that no one will claim ownership over, that seem to belong only to themselves, like slumbering giants from the birth of the world. Really, anywhere on the eastern edge of a landmass would do, for the Speakers’ winter solstice celebrations. But this is where her family group has always come, and so she knows she will find them here. For a week on either side of the solstice, many trains gather here in the sprawl of the mysterious ruins, and they eat and dance and share stories, all the stories of the year before, and Sypha knows she has a few that will make even the elders jealous.

She smiles to herself, framing the narrative in her head as she sets off down the narrow, meandering path to the gathering below.

“Sypha!” a familiar voice calls out, along with the clatter of scattered and dropped firewood; she’s barely made the edge of camp, is still lost in thought, but that voice would snap her out of just about anything.

“Kiri,” she oofs out, as the woman barrels into her, catching her up in a crushing embrace that’s more robes than anything else—layers and layers of them, to keep out the damp chill. Sypha hugs back just as hard; she’d been expecting her family and the others, the ones she’d watched leave Greşit all those months ago and then had to say farewell to again late in the spring. She hadn’t been expecting Kiri, Kiri who knows all her secrets and remembers what she looked like when she was young enough to go about with her hair unshorn, who she spent more time with growing up than she did her own family—throwing rocks into rivers and climbing trees and playing rough games with the boys. Testing every limit, challenging every rule, pushing for every wild dream.

Kiri, who’d been away from their clan for at least three years now, off studying the healing arts with the Ottoman scholars in the east when their own collective knowledge had proved insufficient for her. Three years that now feel like nothing—and isn’t it odd, how the friends of childhood are so often forgotten when the demands of adult life catch up, but the body never forgets what it’s like to hold them?

“I’m so glad you made it,” Kiri says, her face buried in Sypha’s hair. “My first Solstice back with our people and you weren’t here! I was getting worried.”

“What, did you think I would miss it?” Sypha asks, faux indignation through her own laughter. “Never.”

“Well, I’ve been told that you have your hunter, now,” Kiri says, pulling away, a sudden swell of distance blooming between them. No wonder—too often, Speakers who marry outside the tribe never quite find their way back. She and Trevor hadn’t been that to each other the last time she’d seen her family, had just been circling ever closer without quite making contact, but fair assumptions could be, and often were, made. “And your sleeping soldier?”

“Mm, yes,” Sypha says; it’s been a long time since she’s thought of Adrian that way, though he’s never stopped fighting for them. “But this is important, being here. And seeing everyone again! How have your studies been?”

Kiri’s eyes flash with excitement, bright against the wind-bitten redness of her cheeks; her skittishness evaporates in an instant. “It is incredible, Sypha! The things they know, in the south—the things they’ve kept track of, that others have forgotten. There is a book one man there has written on how to repair a person as if they were a torn garment or a broken wagon. It’s remarkable.” Adrian probably has a copy of that, somewhere in his mother’s medical library—if not, she’ll have to remember to track one down. “I understand why we do not record our stories, but after three years there, I wonder if we are foolish to not record knowledge itself? Raw knowledge I mean, the kind that is hard to frame in the context of a story.”

My people are idiots, she remembers saying, during that

interminable stay in the Belmont hold; she’s usually more inclined to be generous, but there’d been an infectious kind of frustration and cynicism they’d all been fighting, after a certain point.

“I’ve wondered that, too,” she says now, far more diplomatic; the journey has done her outlook a lot of good. “About an entirely different body of knowledge! Not something that would be as useful as the medicine you’re learning, but yes—if having something written down can save a life, how can that be wrong?”

“Don’t let the elders hear you say that!” Kiri admonishes, laughing.

Sypha blows a dismissive breath through her nose. “I am sure they already think I’m a terrible member of our tribe, just for raising a hand against the enemies of humanity. I cannot imagine their opinion of me can get much worse.”

Kiri throws an arm over her shoulder, pulls her in. “It’s not that bad,” she says, trying to be encouraging, but there's a tension there. “Our Sypha, the warrior of Wallachia. But I always knew you were destined for something special.”

Sypha frowns in thought, takes a few steps in silence. Did you? She wants to ask, and she wants to ask, Why?

Destined. Destiny is too large an idea, is the sort of thing that hovers around other people, people with remarkable families, with mysterious pasts. Sypha is a magician like any other Speaker magician; her father was the same, and his mother before him, and there is nothing unusual about any of it. These things run in families, and magic users are common, and sure, she'd gotten herself sucked up into an epic story because of it, but it could as easily have been another.

Couldn't it have?

Would another scholar of magic have done just as good a job? Would another magician have melded into the team as well as she did, have communicated in battle so effortlessly, have picked up the slack the other two dropped and protected them when they needed it? Could just any magician have snatched Dracula’s castle out of the aether like it was a feather on the breeze?

Would another Speaker have tossed aside the principles of a lifetime to stand up and fight, or is there really something dark and burning in her that sets her aside?

If there is, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Is that even the question to be asking?

“...how does it feel, to fulfill a prophecy?” Kiri asks, as they start to make their way toward the rest of the camp. It’s clear from the suddenly uncomfortable undercurrent in her voice that she’s not talking about the whole killing Dracula part; that story, her family has already heard, and it’s surely made the rounds. No—she’s talking about the rest of the prophecy. The part that’d had Sypha so uneasy clambering down into the catacombs and so defensive when she awoke there in the face of a hunter; the part that she’d like to believe any random magician would not have been able to fulfill.

“Strangely?” Sypha says, pitching her voice low. “Like I did have a choice in the matter.”

“Truly? You did not feel fate’s hand pushing the issue?” A pause, a few scuffing steps in the snow. Then, carefully: “Or another hand entirely?”

And oh, Sypha understands why her old friend is concerned, understands all too well given the way the world has sometimes treated their people. How non-Speaker men have often regarded them—worldly and experienced and incapable of ever saying no, as if rejection of the church’s self-loathing, oppressive morality somehow made them into succubi. But the implication is so absurd in context that she still laughs, conspiratorial. “No. My God. I had to push them. I thought I was going to go crazy.”

A smile then, more genuine. The tension drains out of the arm across Sypha’s shoulders. “What kind of heroic warriors are they, if they’re not fighting for the hand of maiden fair?”

“In what world, I wonder, would I be considered a fair maiden?” Sypha asks, smiling despite herself. Her robes are ragged with wear, her hair recently chopped short again, her feet swathed in cloth bandages beneath her sandals to keep out the cold. Fair indeed. But she knows that society outside of their caravans frames the world in certain ways. “And they were fighting with me, not for me.”

“Still. Most would expect some sort of reward for saving the world—even if only from fate.”

Sypha shakes her head, remembering that sunrise through the castle doors, the way they’d all started drifting apart before she’d pulled them back together. Those first few hours of having no idea what to even do with themselves, in this tomorrow that they hadn’t expected to see. “We were all shocked to still be alive, in the end. I imagine that would be reward enough for anyone.”

Kiri looks to her feet, swallows. They walk in silence for a moment. It had, perhaps, been unfair to go into such dark territory—to invoke how close they’d all come to dying that night. But these are the stakes Sypha has gotten used to, the way she’s become accustomed to thinking of the world. Speakers don’t fight; they are always in danger from those who don’t understand them, but that is a danger that brings itself to one’s door. The memory of choosing to walk across an enemy’s threshold, certain she would not ever cross it again, is uniquely hers.

“If you met them,” she says, gently bringing the topic back around, “you would understand. They honestly are good men. They understand what trust and respect are.” And they have enough baggage to fill an entire wagon, between them both, but that’s not for her to say. She’s not so dense as to think that they’d been dragging their feet just to frustrate her. “They do respect me, and I had to do nothing extraordinary to earn it—only what I’m truly capable of. We are equals.”

“Enough so that they trusted you to make this journey alone,” says a voice from her other side, mild and gentle, and Sypha turns without thinking, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms.

“My angel,” he says, stroking her hair, and as it always does, the endearment makes her heart clench up a little around something—something hard and painful, like a rock in her chest, that she has never understood.

She huffs a laugh against his robes, pushes through it. “It was more a matter of whether I trusted them to survive a month without me.” Kiri laughs then, and her grandfather does too, and it warms her to know, with this kind of certainty, just how lucky she really is.

“…and it was in this way that the houses were joined, the scorched land of one family and the usurped fortress of their oldest enemy, and from the ashes of tragedy and loss and centuries of discord arose the hope of an unexpected and brilliant future.”

A long silence, broken up by the crackle of logs in the fire, by the quiet rustle of voices from elsewhere in the camp. There’s no need to pronounce the end of a story here, not if one is half decent at telling it; Sypha knows that they are just letting it sink in.

“A remarkable story, more so even than the first telling, which we have all heard,” one of the elders says, one she isn’t familiar with. In front of the old woman’s feet, a pair of young children are still staring raptly at Sypha. The elder’s voice is warm, pleased. “It will be quite a thing to add to our memory stores. And quite a thing to know that one of our own played a role, in such a difficult time for our country.”

“One of ours, one of Dracula’s, and one of their own that they threw out,” says a young man a few places to Sypha’s left; his voice carries the twist of a smile. “I wonder how the church must feel, in the face of such irony.”

And oh, that’s a thought that has given Sypha much satisfaction over the last year—to be a fly on the wall when the heads of the church met to discuss what had happened!—but the old woman frowns. “I imagine they feel as though they nearly caused the extinction of all human life in Wallachia,” she says, a touch sharp. “Perhaps that is enough?”

One of the children at her feet giggles, a Look who’s in trouble kind of sound, and the man ducks his head. But he’s not in trouble. That isn’t how they do things. “Pardon me, Elder,” he says, “but I disagree. That they made a horrible mistake is knowledge that can fade or be downplayed over time. That they were saved by the very people they ostracized and cast out—that carries weight that cannot so easily be shrugged off. Even if we cannot share this with the rest of the people of Wallachia, that lesson should at least be preserved.”

Because it is about hubris as much as it is about blame, she can remember saying, after that first meeting they’d had with Acasă’s strange new church. Blame can be washed away with a convincing enough apology, and hubris will make the same mistakes over and over again. Both must be undermined if any progress is to be made.

It had been a hard sell. Adrian tends to want to place blame if only to have something to aim all of his anger and sadness at, now that he’s allowed himself to start navigating them; Trevor only wants the world to feel more just than it is. But in the end she’d brought them around: more needs to be done than to just rub the church’s nose in the mess it’d made.

Which is why they’d agreed, in the end, for her to finally tell the story in its entirety—nothing masked or obfuscated, no details left aside. Only for her people’s ears; a closed telling, a rarely invoked practice used when the full story needs preserving but would put the participants in danger, should it get out into the general populace. The people of Acasă are just now starting to truly accept Trevor for who he is; tolerating a witch and a vampire is a bit much to expect of them, just yet.

“For whatever it’s worth,” she says now, “as a participant in the story? I agree. How this was ended, and by who, is just as important as who started it in the first place. There are lessons in both of those things."

The elder regards her for a long moment, thoughtful. Then nods, just a tiny dip of her face into the firelight. “Very well. This story will sit alongside the previous version. The nature of Wallachia’s saviors is to be preserved, as a means of emphasizing the church’s shortsightedness and the need for it to not repeat that mistake.”

Sypha nods deeply, a long and slow dip of her head nearly to her knees. “My thanks, Elder. May your tribe live happily and well, in the coming year.”

“And yours.”

The crowd disperses, some going to hear or tell other stories, some retiring to their caravans for the evening meal. One figure stays nearby, hunched over a nearby fire, close enough to have heard her telling but not actually part of the group receiving it. In the fading light, the shape is just that: a shape, a silhouette, blue-black against the blue-white of the snow, limned in the cold violet light of sunset. They have a branch in their hands, are stripping it of its side-shoots methodically, tossing them one by one into the fire.

It’s a silhouette Sypha would know anywhere.

“What stories have you to tell,” Sypha asks, settling down alongside her, the ritualistic question feeling strange in her mouth, “since this time last year?”

Kiri huffs a laugh. “None as exciting as yours. You’re a hard act to follow, Sypha.”

“You seemed excited about all the knowledge you’d gained, earlier.”

Twist, pull, snap. “That’s nothing, compared to having a grand destiny.”

“I still say that destiny is too strong a word. We basically fell down a hole.”

“Directly into the vault of Greşit’s sleeping soldier. At precisely the time the three of you were most needed. That sounds like kismet to me.”

Sypha can’t help but laugh, remembering. “It felt more like incredible clumsiness, from where I was standing.”

“Falling.”

“From where I was falling, yes.”

A stretch of quiet, then, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

“So,” Kiri says after a while, tossing an entire handful of twigs into the flames. There’s a smile on her face but the firelight has turned it bitter, all shadows and edges. “Your soldier is a vampire.”

“Dhampir, really,” Sypha corrects, kneejerk. For so long, it’d been Trevor she was correcting, then after a while, Adrian himself; she’s used to being quick on the draw with it, because either of them saying vampire had generally been a sign of badness brewing.

Kiri breaks another few twigs free from the branch, twists them in her fingers. “I don’t know what that means.”

Right. Of course she doesn’t. “It means his mother was human.”

“Oh,” Kiri says, seemingly still not sure what to do with this information. “I knew that, I guess. From the story itself. I didn’t realize the distinction mattered.”

“Yes, it… it matters. A great deal. I do not think a true vampire would have ever sided with humanity.”

"Still. I wonder if I would have been able to guess, had we met in the summer instead of the winter."

Sypha plucks at the scarf around her neck, the wool scratchy but warm, dyed in a hundred vibrant colors. It’d come from the market in Acasă, knitted by an old blind woman, and had been a gift—gratitude for the work they’d done securing the town against the demon attacks. They had saved her son’s entire family, and gone home that night and celebrated it, a battle with no casualties save the demons themselves. She’s wearing it because of the cold, but she knows what Kiri is asking. "Perhaps."

A huff of breath. “So much for your gentle warriors.”

“You would probably be surprised,” Sypha says with a shrug, not even bothering to take offense on Adrian’s behalf, because she can tell this isn’t what Kiri’s actually upset about. Some people compare words to weapons, and it’s truer than they know; you can dodge and feint and mislead with them as well as you can with steel. “But that isn’t—Kiri. What’s going on?”

For a long moment, no reply. The fire cracks and pops, splitting the wood apart in a spattering of sparks. Kiri throws the whole branch into it like a spear, a hard burst of frustration.

“Taerna married, this summer,” she finally says, the words quiet.

That stops Sypha cold, her fingers poised in mid-reach for a branch of her own. She curls them back up around the empty air, feels the nails bite into her palm. “She always said she would wait for you.”

“Why should she have bothered? We were only friends.”

“You were more than that.”

“She married,” Kiri repeats, short, face tightening as if to hold something inside. “Like all of my friends and sisters did. Marriage and children and… it’s all anyone does. We had plans. We were going to, to travel, and she was going to hunt our food and I was going to heal people and we were going to see the world together. But this is the only life anyone seems to care about.”

And even you’re going down that path, Sypha can hear, unsaid. You and your prophecy, your exiled hunter and your inhuman soldier.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes a breath. “She cares about you.”

“She also cares about her hound.”

“She loves you,” Sypha says, insistent.

Kiri laughs, bitter, tears threatening. It’s like watching an old dam crumble, flawless limestone threading through with cracks and stress fractures, and then: an outrushing of things held back for far too long. “Not enough,” she says, curling forward over herself, arms tight around her belly. “Not more than she loved the idea of having a child. Not enough to be with me.”

“Oh, Kiri. I’m sorry,” Sypha says, threading an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in. “I’m sorry.”

“Do yours love you?” Kiri asks after a moment, muffled by the layers of robes. “Enough to change the world, to defy everything for you?”

Sypha thinks about Trevor punching Dracula in a ridiculous, suicidal attempt to keep him away from her, thinks about Adrian in her garden, enduring the sun to make her happy—about a castle and a watchtower and the ending of the story she’d told, and her grasp on her friend tightens. “They do. And each other.”

A laugh into her shoulder, rough and wet. “I’ve always thought it would be terrible, to be involved in a prophecy,” she says, barely audible. “I never thought I’d be so jealous.”

There’s a stream that runs past the ruins, a narrow but swift-moving current that cuts through the ground here like a knife. It leads into the tough, gnarled pines and firs that grow this close to the sea, into these dark and uninviting woods that are nevertheless filled with a thousand secret places.

Sypha follows it, as she always has, year after year.

Things are different, this year.

She finds them by the water, bundled up and talking quietly. There’s a fire burning, but it’s been banked and allowed to subside down to embers, giving off heat but very little light. In the heavily filtered winter moonlight, they look like faery folk—Arn with his delicate, dignified features, Lily with the luminescent white bone beads threaded into hair the color of pitch, both of them beautiful and earnest.

They look up when she steps closer, their faces dark, shadowed. Painfully anxious.

She sits down on the ground, near to them, facing them. She is just as filled with anxiety. She has never done this, has no idea how to approach it—she knows they are not being blindsided like Kiri was, knows they have had time to adjust to the idea of this, but all she can see is her old friend’s face, broken up in grief over a friend-love she—and everyone else—had thought was something more. For once in her life, Sypha cannot find the words.

Then Lily smiles, the brilliant, passionate smile Sypha remembers, and holds out her hands, and Sypha lets herself fall into the woman’s arms, nearabout crushing her in the embrace.

“It’s all right,” she whispers, against Sypha’s ear. “You’ve found your loves. It was always bound to happen to one of us.”

Sypha nods against her, feeling the tears welling up. Turns to embrace Arn, the familiarity of his touch painful in this context, in knowing what she has to do.

“Are you set to marry?” Arn asks, quiet, solemn.

Sypha shakes her head. “I haven’t brought up the subject yet. There are a lot of complications—no human establishment would ever welcome us. But...”

“But you would like to.”

“Yes.”

“Will you come back to us then, for the ceremony?” Lily asks, and her voice sounds like the fear of paths diverging, not knowing if they will ever converge again. “Or even just to visit? You know there are none here who wouldn’t welcome all of you—or if there are…”

“Lily will convince them to change their minds,” Arn finishes for her, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

Sypha closes her eyes, takes Lily’s hand. “Of course. I could not stay away for long. And you can always visit us—we’ll have a lot of space, once we rebuild.”

Visiting, seeing old friends: it’s not the same, won’t ever be the same. And sometimes things change, and people change and what they are to each other changes. But these two were always dear friends first and foremost, and that will never—can never—be any different. She gathers them both into her arms, and it’s a sweet, comfortable place to be.

“Please tell me,” Arn whispers into her hair after another long moment, “that Belmont at least bathes regularly, now?”

And like that, the seriousness of the night vanishes, goes up like a twist of smoke into the black. Sypha laughs, and keeps laughing, until it turns to tears again and she can’t sort out which she’s feeling more of.

“Yes,” she says, with a little hiccup of sob-laughter. “He does. He fights the darkness and protects the innocent—like he was born for. And washes the monster blood off, after.”

“Good,” Arn says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We could tell from the beginning, that he was capable of being more than he was pretending to be.”

A long measure of silence, only the water rushing past, too swift to freeze even in the heart of winter.

“Will you let us give you a proper farewell?” Lily asks, hesitant. “Do they know—”

“They know,” Sypha says, biting her lip. “I talked with them about it before I left. They don’t mind.” As long as it’s a farewell, she hears Trevor saying, laughter in his voice even as he’d tried to be serious about this. And not a ‘till next time’.

Adrian had just been quiet, and had smiled softly in that way that is always disarming to her, and had simply said that traditions, and closure, are important. For everyone involved.

“Do you want this from us?” Lily asks. “Whether they mind is not the only question.”

It’s secluded in the little copse of trees, even the starlight blocked by the arching branches thick with green needles, and warm from the banked fire. Sypha nods, and reaches out with both hands, palms up in invitation. They each press a kiss to her open hands, and they hold her and she holds them, all of them swathed in the shadows of this secret place. She lets them say goodbye to this part of their collective lives, lets them put their hands and their mouths on her and push her to giddy exhaustion—one last gift from her youth, and one that will have to hold her over through the winter chill until these two weeks are out and she can begin to make her way home.

When they wander back to camp late that night, appetites sated and tension shaken away, things are different between them, always will be different, now—but that’s all right, in the end. Change, like liquor in a wound, can sting, but it is sometimes the only thing that makes the blood run truly clean.

The next day passes quickly and well. She gives her grandfather the gifts that Adrian and Trevor had sent along with her; scouring the castle library, Adrian had found a rare volume of supposedly true stories from the far east that he thought the tribe would appreciate having to add to their memory stores, and Trevor, feeling some cabin fever in all of the early season snow they’ve gotten, has taken up carving—which is to say, he isn’t very good at it yet, may never really be. But the two simplistic figures he’s sent are easily recognizable as rough caricatures of priests, one missing a finger and one missing an eye. In memory of the day we all met! he’d said, performative, trying to disguise the sentimentality as tactless humor.

Her grandfather laughs to himself as he holds the figures up, and she can tell he’s trying hard to mask how entertained he is; violence is so anathema to their people and yet, somehow, this particular act of violence never seems to have unsettled him. Context, she supposes; Trevor had been acting specifically to save his life, and he could have done far worse.

She wanders the camp, looks at all of the lovely exotic decorations, and plays with the children, an odd pang in her heart as she watches their innocent games. She helps prepare lunch, lighting the fires for the ones doing the cooking, chopping vegetables and kneading dough for flatbread, and she goes into the woods with Kiri to gather more firewood—they will need a lot of it, tonight.

They don’t talk, while they gather. It’s not awkward, just an understanding that the space between them needs some quiet, needs time to breathe.

She visits with the others in her family, with the surrogate aunts and uncles that are not actually related to her by blood, with the childhood playmates and the mentors, and with Taerna and her husband, a man from another tribe who’d chosen to join hers

instead of the other way around, had chosen to take her name. He seems sweet enough, and Taerna seems happy, if a little haunted around the edges of her eyes. Everyone she asks says that yes, of course they will be there, tonight.

Last night had been for stories, and tomorrow will be as well. But tonight is for celebration. All things in equal measure.

Hours in, Sypha drops onto one of the logs around the edges of the clearing; she slumps forward with a happy groan, reaching to rub the knots and strings out of her calves. Her walking muscles are conditioned like no others, but dancing muscles are a different story. It’s a good ache, though, like that burn in the cheeks that comes from too much smiling, too much laughter. She feels overheated from the exertion and the fire, no matter the chill in the air, and she unwinds the scarf, loosens the top layer of her robes to let the air move through.

Between where she sits and where the fire burns, silhouettes move, a chaotic display of human joy and beauty. They have no structured dances, really, though longtime partners often grow into each other’s steps. She can smell warm food nearby, bread and stew and hot mead, sees all of her family and friends and the strangers that come here as well, all her people, all dressed as she is, and wonders again: could any of them, the ones with magic at least, have done what she did?

She stares into the fire, remembers the feel of the castle’s engine between her fingers, the way she’d felt reality bending and brittle fracturing around her, so much more power at her disposal in that moment than she’d ever brought to bear conjuring fire or ice—and she thinks that no, maybe not. She’s met other magicians; she’s not sure any of them have ever trapped an eldritch monstrosity or blown apart an Enochian ward or—or done the things she’s come here to learn how to do. The things her father and her grandmother could do.

Later. Later, when the Nasaii tribe arrives. They should be here by morning. She will learn what she needs to, and she will go home, and she will be able to protect that home more thoroughly than she ever has before.

In the meantime, she watches the dancers, contemplates getting some stew, contemplates whether her legs will fall off if she tries—watches Arn and Lily together on the far side of the clearing, twisting in a tight curl that makes Lily’s hair lift, the fire lighting up her bone beads and glinting in Arn’s eyes. Watches the children imitating the adults, the youngest pairing off with their siblings, stumbling all over each other. Watches strong, tough Taerna with her husband, insisting on leading him, as much as anyone can lead in this sort of dance.

Watches the elder she’d told her story to last night, sitting across the fire from her, watching Sypha right back with a gentle smile that says Don’t worry, that says You will be with them soon.

And there’s nothing inherently romantic about these dances on the solstice—friends dance with friends, parents with children, and many dance alone—but she remembers being young and everything being about those early, tentative relationships, remembers that there was a thrill in getting the chance to dance with those people she called heart-mates, or to be asked to dance by someone she wished to be that close to.

So she can’t help but smile when she sees Taerna whisper something to her husband and break away from him, sidling hesitantly up to where Kiri sits. She’s poking at the dirt with a crooked, bare stick, and her sandals haven’t touched the dance ring—are clean of the dust and soot that coats the ground here, the

remains of a hundred years of bonfires.

Taerna holds out a hand, uncertain.

It won’t solve all of the problems, won’t make Kiri’s love hurt less or magically mend things between them. But there’s something of healing in Kiri’s eyes as she reaches up to take that hand, leaves the stick behind in the dirt, lets herself be pulled up and into the ring of dancers, the two of them falling into each other’s space with an ease that says We belong here, that says Even if we must change, there is still us, that says You will never be a stranger in these arms.

Next -- >

#castlevania #fanfic #netflix castlevania #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #adrian tepes #alucard #fanfiction #taproot #wellspring #trephacard #post s2

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arlerts-angel · 6 months ago

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Hi Mack!!! Congratulations on 1k ❤️ I’m submitting for the match making event! This is such a cool, unique, and fun idea - I’m having a great time reading everyone’s submissions 🥰

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Physical description: I’m 4’11 with medium length, wavy/curly, dark brown hair. I have brown eyes and a round face, with a small nose, and freckles! I’m very pale and the sun is my nemesis. I would say I’m on the curvier side and I have visible tattoos all over my arms and on my thighs.

Personality: Highly reserved and introverted. I have a small group of friends that I really come out of my shell around, and I can be super goofy/eccentric when I’m comfortable. I’m loyal almost to a fault, especially for those I hold dear. I was the “weird kid” when I was younger and had a rock collection, so I feel like that gives a pretty good insight to who I am, lol. I’m a highly emotional person! Crying is my response to all my major emotions: happiness, anger, sadness, etc. I also struggle with depression, an undiagnosed attention disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder.

Interests: I’m a big reader, I love poetry and sci-fi and classic literature too! I’m also a ceramicist, illustrator, and motion graphics designer. I’m a big movie person, mostly sci-fi, animation, or anything space themed. I collect vinyl, music is sooooo deeply important to me. Kpop is a core tenet of my personality lol. I’m a casual/relatively new swiftie. Libraries, museums, bookstores, the farmers market, and cafes are some of my favorite places to be. I have a deep interest in marine biology and deep ocean creatures, small critters, tide pool dwellers etc. The beach is one of my favorite places to visit, but I also enjoy nature in general, specifically forests and any place that has lots of floral plantlife. Physical touch and quality time are my love languages!

Eeeeeee I’m so excited to see who you pick!!!

𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑨 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯!

hi moss!! this was easy..... a little too easy 👀 i'm pairing you with armin because you have SO MUCH IN COMMON!!!! armin would absolutely ADORE taking you on bookstore/library/museum/farmer's market dates !! armin is canonically a spoiler, so anything you want he'll buy it!! on the first date, he'd take you to a cat cafe <3

#🩷 — mack's 1k event #💒 — match made in heaven event #ᯓᡣ𐭩 mutuals #ᯓᡣ𐭩 mossgh0st

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tunabesimpin · 1 year ago

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Hi tuna! Congratulations on the milestone 🎉🎉! I love whenever someone holds a cute event like this 💕 (hopefully this entry is fine I don’t think I’ve ever sent in an ask before)

Tadaaa! Kaori and Isa have arrived fashionably late to the party! (Let me know if the links don’t work 🫣) But don’t worry, they wouldn’t show up empty handed! They’ve brought a cooler full of cool snacks!!

I’d say kaoris favorite beach activity would be looking through tide pools and finding all kinds of little creatures in them! And even though neither of them can swim, you don’t have to be too deep in the water to make a big splash!

Isa is kaoris +1 and she had to throw him over her shoulder and carry him like a sack 🙂

(And once again congratulations on reaching 800!!)

---

They finally made it, Kaori and Isa had wandered into the party zone. Most of the festivities were in full swing, Volleyball matches roared with watchers and players, few were already set in making sandcastles, and many were mid fight with the water guns.

This gave the two the opportunity to sort themselves out and get their base set up for the day. Most spots were already taken, having coolers or parasols and towels lying about. Kaori sighed, "See this is why we should've gotten here earlier..." Isa rolled his eyes and shrugged it's not my fault someone forgot to buy sunscreen until last minute~" With the commotion, it didn't take long for Tuna to find the duo.

Tuna waved happily welcoming the two. Having overheard their predicament, a thought came to mind "Say... if you need a spot how about a trade?" Octavinelle was known for its rather taxing deals, even if Tuna seemed nice, they did still work for Azul. Isa pulled Kaori back for a moment "This has bad news written all over it. I'm betting Azul hops out of no where to collect a trade..." Kaori chuckled "Nah if anyones fetching stuff, its gotta be the leech twins." After discussion the two decided to bet on it, whoever lost would pay for the spot. They turned back to Tuna and accepted the deal.

Tuna trotted back to their spot, waving Isa and Kaori to follow. They arrive at a donut beach towel covered by a large parasol. Tuna scooted their towel over to make room as they spoke "We can share this spot, but... I wanna piece of whatever's in your cooler!" The two stared in disbelief, that was it?

---

PLEASE OK SORRY IF THE WRITING SEEMS DULL, BUT I JUST LOVE THE HEART SHAPED COOLER ITS SO CUTE!!!!! Thank you for the congratz and everything too!!! ^0^ i had a lot of fun drawin ur ocs <3 I hope you enjoyed the event

#tuna be talkin #y-cherries #tunasseasidesq #twst fanevent #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst tuna #Kaori Maiyuu #Isa Odessa

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lyctoralsaints · 9 months ago

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✧ ֺ ˖ ⎎ @temptsdeath said a kiss stolen away in a corner , ignoring crowds where cass is the one stealing from az .

celebrations are a lovely thing and he watches the boisterous exchange of conversation between his family from a distance. azriel sees the way they interact, sees the way that their people approach and grin and greet –– he will never be one of the ones people smile�� at. he learned this long ago, but every year, when the stars blink more brightly than usual, he finds it still stings. azriel's darkness is so deep it makes everyone glow all the more . . . but it hides away his heart. he simpers to himself and it is some meek, unseen thing before he shifts on his feet; a silent, winged creature on the prowl, wings tucked tightly to the strong expanse of his back. he moves through the hall, and the crowd falls behind him as he leans himself into a corner. he stays there for so long, stagnant, watching everyone enjoy themselves, that he doesn't realize the shadow looming close. cassian's form is all too familiar to him; those broad shoulders, and the wild compassion in those lovely hazel eyes. azriel sips the sweet wine in his glass, hoping to cool the warmth that pools in his chest. 〝 I was just starting to wonder where you'd disappeared off to, ” he utters, voice low. he looks him over as if searching for any sign that other hands had mussed his hair but he finds none. lips part so he may continue but he is cut off, crowded in and strong hands leave him huffing a laugh. he reaches out to place his glass down so it doesn't end up being dropped. 〝 oh, cass, ” but he has never pushed him away. no, he indulges like he's some selfish fool. then a mouth covers his own and he thinks perhaps, just . . . just maybe, the world falls apart under his feet. his shadows skitter across his skin like a cloak, pulling at cassian in desperation, to keep him close. the ruckus of the celebration is drowned out by the thunder of his heart, and the encouragement whispered by the wisps of darkness that roil around them like a whirlpool, a tide coming and going. the shadowsinger's own hands, ungloved and scarred, venture up the column of a neck to the nape of the other's neck so he may reciprocate the kiss. he can never express it outwardly but he hopes cassian understands . . . cassian knows his heart like no other –– what else could explain that but the simplicity of love?

#˚ ✧ WIELDER OF TRUTH - TELLER ⋮ azriel shadowsinger.#≀⠀narrative IX⁺⠀˒⠀ TO THE PEOPLE WHO LOOK AT THE STARS AND WISH. ፧ acotar.#𓏭 twin shields of red and blue merged ٫ sizzling ╱ CASSIAN ≀ temptsdeath #𓂃 inbox prompts.#temptsdeath #maybe one day i will feel normal like a normal person but today is not that day

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lochselfships · 1 year ago

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water and bug with matt? :0

SWANNNEEEE MY GOOD PAL!! you know Exactly what's on my brain all the time i see., thank u thank u thank u tha

[Water]: What does a beach day with your f/o look like? Do you go swimming or check out the boardwalk?

Matt is essentially Just Like Me™ on a beach day... we're both too pale, so the re-application of suncream every goddamn half an hour is mandatory. Which is... helpful... because I usually forget... but he refuses to let either of us get burnt to a crisp lol.

We also both love collecting little beach trinkets!! Shells and cool rocks and little creatures and stuff :D If there's not at least ONE bag full of cool stuff we found that we have to heave back home then we've failed. Obviously. (/light-hearted)

“hey! this one's shiny! do you think it's a crystal?”

“that's just a flint stone, gorgeous.”

“ah... i see... and this one too?”

“Wha- HOW DID YOU FIND A WHOLE ASS RUBY?? IN ENGLAND???????”

If there's tide pools we might waste our time purely around there, but if not then we'll wade in the sea! And that's a LOT of fun because Matt's a complete baby about it and is very scared to go under the water. Usually I have to do it first (to show him it's fine) and then hold his hand if he wants to do the same. It's very adorable tbh nfndnfns <3

Also!! Food is a big part a the beach trip! If he hasn't prepared various snacks (he has) (they will all likely melt because he Does Not think these things through) then we'll be getting fish and chips and whatever sweet treat is nearby to sustain us! He usually tries being all romantic by feeding me himself but it's. Goofy. And silly. And neither of us can take it seriously.....

The ride home is always sleepy cause we've totally exhausted ourselves, lots of cuddling!! I lov him 💜

[Bug]: How do you comfort one another when you get scared? Is there any teasing involved?

Depends a lot on the mood and what got us scared in the first place!

Horror doesn't much effect us because we're so used to horror movie nights with the boys, BUT exhilarating things like rollercoasters have both of us shaky beyond belief.

“are you scared at all?” (← scared as hell)

“no. not at all. no way.” (← LIAR.)

“c-cool! cause... neither am I. haha.”

“yeah. haha. cool.”

“mmhm.”

*silently grabs eachothers hands as the ride starts moving*

Usually if one of us is frightened the other is too, but in particular situations it Can be a time for lots of comfort!!!

→ If Matt gets spooked and I'm around to help, I hold him close and make sure he's okay- even if it's something silly, I'll hold back any giggles to make sure he gets the proper treatment. either taking his mind off of it by distracting him with talk of his latest fixation, or if it's unavoidable simply holding tight onto his arm to let him know he's not alone. lots of kisses and praise afterwards as reward for him being so brave!!! smooch those tears away <3

→ If I get scared by something while Matt's okay it's immediate Panic™. Heightened nerves around medical stuff or a day where my agoraphobia kicks in hard? He absolutely wants to play knight in shining armour and hold my hand the entire time; holding me super close to him so that I'm basically wrapped up in his arms, constant verbal reassurance that it's going to be alright, and even if I get over my frightened state Matt will Not let go. Protective mode is kicked into overdrive. Which is impressive considering he's already pretty protective of the people he loves lolol

#🪽 || Cupid's Game #🪞 || Baker-boy #THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN???? TO ANSWER??????#literally went to the beach a couple days ago too so it's perfect <333

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erigold13261 · 8 months ago

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So Sofa’s into aquatic animals/sea life right? They’re going to get along with Kento (who probably also likes sea life/the ocean in general)

Oh yea I can see that!

I think Kento's love for the ocean is on a bit more superficial level where he is a lot more in love with the ideas of the ocean and beach and the relaxation that comes from them, but he'd also be very willing to just listen to Sofa talk about the ocean.

Sofa is a lot more fascinated with deep sea exploration and marine animals, but is totally willing to talk about the surface sea creatures or upper beach life (especially coral reefs and stuff too).

The two just go and look at the tide pools to relax and look at all the cool animals hanging out there.

Definitely don't see the two being super close like how Sofa is with the other Crew members or Kento is with Yu and the rest of his Polycule and JJK gang, but they are definitely closer to each other than anyone else in the other's group (like Kento is not close to the rest of the crew other than Dodo considering they are cousins, but even then they aren't as close as they used to be, and Sofa isn't as close to Kento's polycule or SaSiSu, tho them and Margo and Peni are good friends).

#nsrtalk #spidertalk #jjktalk #eritalks #eriverse #noart #asks

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dolphingirl1234 · 2 years ago

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I started to analyse the hermit crabs episode a while ago, but the wifi cut out and it didn't save so that was the end of that. here I am like 3 months later doing it again.

(Excuse the terrible screenshots lol)

This episode has so much great Peso stuff and no one talks about it I swear.

First of all, look how they just run off without thinking when Barnacles calls.

They have so much respect for him to just drop the rope they were playing with. They know they have to listen when he calls. Barnacles #1 Role Model TM

Peso freaked out when Barnacles said that, while Tweak just didn't react. She's known Barnacles for so long that she just. knows.

Just... absolute ocean nerds. forgot about the tide and kept looking at whatever crabs and stuff were in the rock pools. They live in the ocean. They see this stuff every day, but they still got distracted by it and completely forgot about the tide.

He left Peso in charge. He left Peso in charge. He does that a lot. He trusts Peso enough to leave him in change of the Octopod while he's gone. This episode is in season 1 and we all know Peso's the little shy boi in season 1. Barnacles gave him a small task to start with, just keeping track of the Octopod while most of them are out.

This guys taking his small job very seriously. He's the little one. The younger one. The smaller one. The shy one. He doesn't get put in charge. So he's gonna do this job and he's gonna do it WELL.

She just goes along with it. She knows it's his first time being in charge and she's helping him. She doesn't say anything in this scene and just obeys. I just... I love that.

No picture for this one but Peso's voice sounds forcefully deeper in this scene. he's trying to sound like Barnacles because #1 Role Model TM.

He hears the creature needing help and just,,, no more big boy Peso.

She's so supportive I love it sm

Peso sounded the Octo-Alert solely because Barnacles does it. There was absolutely no reason to. He just went out by himself which he could have done without the whole process of explaining it. He just did it because his #1 Role Model does it.

She prompts him to ask her to open the Octo-Hatch. She could have just done it but no. she wanted Peso to get to say it like Barnacles.

Inkling and Tweak have a little conversation about Peso doing well once he leaves and it's really sweet.

He looks up to Tweak as well. Like "My friend's so cool look at her go" #2 or 3 Role Model. I'll name her #3 because Kwazii.

He just,,, shuts down Tweak's plan. Not even "That's a great idea but I don't think it would work" like he usually would. Literally just "no lol whats next". This episode has so much character development.

He goes straight to Barnacles for help because he is #1 Role Model TM

There is no reason for Kwazii to be in this scene. He just stands next to Barnacles imitating his pose and occasionally changing facial expressions. He's just there because he wants to be like Barnacles, because say it with me: ✨#1 Role Model✨

If anyone can speak in emoticons, it's Peso. He sounds so proud of himself when he says that it's adorable.

Barnacles is so proud of him too. He singles Peso out in multiple episodes to praise him, and this is one of the first as it's in the first season.

Taking a break from the Peso stuff to point out Tweak's level of empathy. This girl looks so sad when the crab says he doesn't have a shell anymore. I could point out so many examples of this in like every episode.

Anyway that's pretty much all. I've never seen anyone talk about this episode even though it's got so much analysing potential. I'm gonna try analyse more episodes and maybe characters too. So yeah that's my analysis of the hermit crabs episode thanks for listening :)

#no one talks about this episode I swear #it's one of Peso's best ones #give the hermit crabs some attention #octonauts #peso #tweak #barnacles #kwazii #ft dashi and shellington in the back sometimes #analysis #episode analysis

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jar-of-ectoplasm · 4 years ago

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Beach Trip Headcanons: La Squadra

a/n: it's getting warmer where i live which is horrible and i hate it but it gave me some inspo here's some bullshit

Genre/Warnings: Crack, fluff, just some cute shit, polyamory (sorlato), a LOT of simping omfg

~Risotto Nero~

-he already had his tits out on the regular so his bare chest isn't anything new but he lost that stupid hat so it wouldn't get wet and now you can stare at hat-less riz

-doesn't get in the water too often but he definitely goes underwater to grab your legs and scare you (he does it to ghiaccio and melone too; melone screams at the top of his lungs and ghiaccio fails around like he's drowning)

-spends most of his time under the parasols with illuso and prosciutto, just chatting and watching you mess around with your teammates (and maybe checking you out while he's at it)

-lowkey starts to get jealous if he thinks melone or formaggio are gettin' too friendly with you (god help any random person that flirts with you)

-Riz makes damn sure both you and him are very well saturated (?? does that sound weird) with sunscreen. there's no way in hell either of you will be suffering through that

~Prosciutto~

-you thought you were going to the beach with your boyfriend? lmfao nah you're at the beach with mom and your rowdy ass siblings now

-came in clutch with the sunscreen, aloe vera ointment, snacks, water and spending money. has a very nice set up under a parasol with illuso (and you, if you'd like to join him in his relaxation/parenting session)

-pros with his hair down, shirtless and wearing a pair of pineapple swim trunks to match with pesci? out in public? a lot more likely than you'd think

-formaggio would be a prick and dump water on his hair and now you get to see prosciutto with his hair wet fUCK (pros would be FUMING but he'd look so GOOD)

-would read to you but he doesn't want to risk getting any of his fav books wet so he'd just tell you wonderful stories of the team before you joined (most of them are embarrassing for everyone but him)

~Pesci~

-literally he's having the time of his LIFE right now. he's completely protected from the sun (thanks mamma pros), he's goin' fishing, he's got his s/o with him, what more could a boy ask for?

-maybe he should've asked formaggio to not throw sand at him every 10 minutes because that is happening for sure, no matter how much prosciutto yells at him to stop pesci will not be left alone

-is in the water like, 70% of the time. he'll make bets with ghiaccio to see who can swim out the farthest and ghia is surprisingly not mad when he loses

-he'll walk off the beach with just you to get ice cream and it's honestly really fucking cute (he gets strawberry, btw)

-pesci really likes picking you up and tossing you into the water. he's secretly a little bastard and will laugh at you while helping you up

~Illuso~

-jesus the entire day with him is just 🙄. he's such a little bitch about EVERYTHING

-won't go in the water at all and carries a compact mirror with him so he has an escape plan in case formaggio decides to fuck with him. salt water damages your hair and there's no possible fucking way he's risking his scalp just for a little fun

-still insisted on wearing swim trunks and going shirtless though, mostly just to have your undivided attention (as if he didn't already force you to pay attention to him enough)

-sitting under parasols with prosciutto because he's pale and has sensitive skin but he still ends up getting sunburned and won't stop complaining

-you guys did have a cute little moment when the sun was starting to set and he dragged you away from everyone so he could look for sea glass with you (totally wasn't an excuse to hold your hand while he was dragging you around)

~Formaggio~

-spends the entire day being a little rat bastard and making almost everyone wish he was dead (he respects risotto too much and sorbet and gelato scare him so he leaves them alone)

-throwing sand at pesci and melone, pouring water on prosciutto, stealing melone's goggles, chasing illuso into the mirror world, straight up throwing ghiaccio's car keys across the beach

-and of course he's gonna drag you into this. even if you just wanted to have a nice beach day with your asshole boyfriend, he's gonna hold you captive during his shenanigans

-can and will wipe his sweat on you. he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. please throw seaweed at him in retaliation, he thinks it's nasty as fuck

-leaves the beach early so he can treat you to dinner, both as a thank you for dealing with his bullshit all day and as an apology for wiping sweat on you every 30 minutes

~Ghiaccio~

-the most unrecognizable when he's as the beach with everybody. his hair isn't styled, so his curls are a lot looser and not plastered to his head, he's not wearing his glasses so they don't get lost in the water, HIS FUCKING LEGS AND BARE CHEST ARE JUST OUT

-literally just,,,SURFER GHIACCIO??? come ON dude. he knows what he's doing and will wink at you every single time he catches you staring

-loves wading out far into the water with you on his surf board so he can be all soft and cute with you without anybody hearing or seeing him

-he'll also be pretty light-hearted when he's out there too. he and pesci will see who can swim out the farthest and he'll let pesci win (let's be honest, with his legs he could swim to a different continent if he wanted too)

-ghia might look hot as hell out there, but he'll also end up burnt as hell. literally he just didn't put sunscreen on and he was out in the sun for hours. hottie got sun poisoning, please take him home early he will die

~Melone~

-he brought along goggles, a snorkel and flippers so he can do some shallow reef diving

-he'll pop up occasionally and yell for you to come over and show you a tiny little crab or a cool looking fish he found (it's honestly really, really cute)

-mel will take routine breaks to reapply sunscreen, drink water, check up on you, and get his goggles stolen (which he did not plan on). he'll also take this time to use shitty beach-related pick up lines to get you to laugh

-honestly as pervy as you'd think he would be. maybe it's because he's distracted by all the fun little creatures he keeps finding in tide pools and such

-has his own little set up a few feet away from prosciutto and illuso's. he'll be there while he's taking his breaks and yes he will try to cuddle with you even though it's pushing 90 degrees at noon

~Sorbet and Gelato~

-not to get sad in what is supposed to be a fun headcanon set but neither of them will take their shirts off or get in the water. both of them have a lot of body image issues and they'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to convince them to be half naked in public

-with that being said, both Sorbet and Gelato get loads of enjoyment out of just watching you swim around and have fun before returning to them

-Sorbet will help apply sunscreen but he really just wants an excuse to grope you and Gelato in public

-Gelato will want to have a sandcastle building contest with you (Sorbet is the judge and both of you receive the grand prize of a kiss)

-long walks on the beach together at night after everyone's gone home? of fucking course it's gonna happen

#literally i could go on for hours about how hot i think ghiaccio is #i need to write more for him jfc #la squadra #la squadra x reader #risotto nero x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #illuso x reader #formaggio x reader #ghiaccio x reader #melone x reader #sorbet and gelato x reader #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons

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arlertwifey · 3 years ago

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snk cast x gn!reader + cute summertime romance

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE!

☼ — ft. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, Hanji, & Erwin (all characters are 18+)

☼ — genre: pure fluff + gn!reader x character, warnings: mentions of vandalism/petty crime, alcohol mentions

☼ — a/n: please enjoy my first snk x reader content :)

E R E N

Fills his time with a weird mix of volunteering around the city and committing blatant acts of vandalism

He spends his days helping out at the youth shelter and nights scribbling graffiti anywhere he can find a spot. Takes you to spray-paint every underpass you come across

Unnaturally good at arcade games and wins you lots of little random plushies from the claw machines. Your favorite is an angry-looking brown bear that you can’t help but think resembles him

Loves to stay up late and discover new parts of the city with you. Has a bad habit of falling asleep on your shoulder wherever you are though, when he finally runs out of energy

Even though he tries to play it off like he’s too cool for them, insists that you two take cute photobooth pictures together and keeps his favorite of them in his wallet

A R M I N

Practically lives at the beach during the summer. The two of you plan out your days there in advance so your able to visit the different tide pools and see various sea creatures.

Has a strong sweet tooth. He’s a huge fan of any type of frozen treat, but is extremely partial to slushies. In at least half the pictures you get of your summertime adventures, his mouth is stained teal from the blue-raspberry flavor he always buys.

Gets surprisingly tan during the summer, due to the fact that he’s outside whenever possible. Even when studying, he prefers to do so at parks around where he lives rather than indoors. His hair bleaches out a little further as well.

Willing to go to parties with you when the two of you are invited by mutual friends, but tends to slip outside to the porch after the first hour. More often than not, the two of you wind up ditching all together and heading off to find someplace to get late night food.

He brings you to visit his grandfather during the summertime and the two of you help him out with repairs around the house. Being around the two people he loves the most brings out Armin’s talkative side and the three of you spend your vacation days swapping stories over glasses of iced tea.

M I K A S A

Busy during the summer, so you can’t meet as much as would like

Part of her gym’s regional kickboxing team and helps teach part time. You go to all her matches and cheer till your voice gives out. She tells you that you don’t have to come, but secretly is so, so grateful that you do

On days when you’re both free, you try out all the best brunch places in the city. Mikasa prefers small family-owned businesses. The two of you quickly become regulars at your favorite spots

Sends you voice messages when you are apart ever since you said that you liked to hear her voice. She’s adorably awkward in them, usually just telling you about whatever she’s doing at the time and how much she misses you

Gets misty-eyed when you show up at the airport with flowers for her when she gets back home. Squeezes you till your out of breath and lifts off the ground a little bit when you hug again after your time apart.

J E A N

The actual best at planning a fun day full of activities

Busts his ass working at a couple part time jobs most days, but makes up for how busy is by making sure you two have the best possible time and do the most when you’re together

The type to have a bucket list for all the different activities he thinks you guys should do together. He puts a lot of effort into creating it with you. The two of you decorate two matching posters so that each of you has a copy.

A little bit of a sucker for cliches: ice cream dates and visiting waterparks. He’s a romantic at heart and with you he feels like he can finally participate in all the classic lovey-dovey activities couples do.

One of those people who acts like an influencer despite the fact that he’s only followed by family and friends. Takes super high quality pics of you so he can brag about how great his s/o is. Took a few photography classes in college and it shows. Every photo he takes of you looks amazing because you can tell just how enamored he is with you.

King of matching couple fits. Loves when the two of you wear coordinating colors or even just similar accessories.

L E V I

Not a fan of hot weather, so prefers to hang out in the evenings or early mornings when it’s cooler (which works well with the fact that he has to work most days).

Has no clue what to do during the summer, besides what you two always do, but does his best

You two go for early morning runs at his suggestion and then get breakfast afterwards. There’s a smoothie place down the block from the park that you frequent, with different local fruit specials each week.

He brings you to his favorite tea shop and you two slowly drink your way through their summer refresher menu throughout the season. You learn

Is willing to go to the beach, but be prepared to cover the man with sunscreen, because he burns. Since he knows that he won’t encounter anyone from work, he sometimes wears a large sunhat for extra UV protection.

When your vacation time finally lines up, the two of you get out of the city and head to the charming town where his mother lives. You get to help Kuchel in her garden and listen to her stories about adorable young Levi.

While he’s not extremely enthusiastic about summer as a season, he does find it far more enjoyable when he gets to spend it with you

H A N J I

Lives for traveling during the summer months, half for fun and half for their work as part of an anthropological research team. Whenever they can’t bring you along, expect lots of silly, cheesy postcards and many late night phone calls.

Thinks that camping is an absolute must. You two go on hikes together to find the best places to camp. Teaches you all sorts of cool facts about the different areas you are in. Likes when the two of you get “lost” and have to navigate back with a compass (and a park map as backup).

Makes their own homemade juice blends (some better than others) and freezes them into popsicles. Brings you them and other snacks when you’re working.

Stays up late with you and points out different constellations while you drink hot cocoa on the rooftop of their apartment building. While you don’t understand everything they are explaining to you, you love to watch their excited expression and enthusiasm as they tell you all about the world.

E R W I N

Glamorous cultural events are Erwin’s favorite part of the summertime  Expect to to be brought to opening ceremonies, christenings of cruise ships, and wine tastings

Despite the fancy events, Erwin makes sure you don’t feel too out of place by spending the evenings shit talking the other guests with you, and trying to guess who is sleeping with who and who is going to get drunk and ruin the evening

Insists that you get out of the city as often as possible, so expect a lot of weekend getaways

As much as he likes to do things with you, he can also appreciate an afternoon spent drinking sangria and reading by the poolside (a private pool, of course. He can’t resist asking you to put sunblock on his back (half because he actually needs the help, half just to see you blush at the request).

Owns a sleek vintage convertible that he’s only able to drive in the warmer months. Likes to pick you up from work in it while still dressed in his impeccably sharp suit from the office, just to see the looks on your coworkers faces

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galactic-magick · 4 years ago

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Oblivious: Tech x Reader

Request: Could u possibly do a Tech x Reader where the batch is on an ocean planet of sorts and tech and the reader are nerding out over something like tide pools and the rest of the batch is like “how are these two so smart yet so oblivious to their feelings?”

Summary: You and The Bad Batch settle on an ocean planet for the night, and you and Tech seem to know everything except your own feelings for each other.

Words: 1000+

Warnings: none

Author’s Notes: Had to do some research on tide pools for this one lmao, and I made up a bunch of fake star wars science that probably doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, earth science experts don’t come at me pls XD

Laying low has been incredibly difficult for you and The Bad Batch, none of you are exactly the type to “blend in.” You’ve been hopping all over the galaxy, until you come across a planet almost entirely covered in ocean. It’s habitable, but not many people live on it due to the lack of large segments of land.

Thankfully though, you find an island that’s big enough for your ship and make a landing. You run out into the fresh air, the smell of salt water and cool breeze filling your nose. Tech follows close behind, analyzing the planet’s climate and resources, and the rest soon after.

“The tides are going to get much higher over the next couple hours, we’re going to lose much of the land we have right now,” Tech says, moving down the beach. “Don’t set anything up past this point,”

“Can we build a fire?” Wrecker asks excitedly.

“Why would we need a fire? Our ship has a heating system,”

“Because I want to!” he crosses his arms. “And what if the ship runs out of heat?”

“I think that’s a great idea!” Omega pipes up. “I’ve never even seen a campfire before,”

“You haven’t?!” Wrecker takes her hand and points to the small forest of trees on the other side of the island. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Wait!” Tech calls after them, but they’re too fast. “Ugh. The wood is going to be too wet to use anyway, they’re wasting their time,”

“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to let them try,” you smile. “Besides, we’ll only be here a day or two at most, right?”

“I suppose,”

You skip across the rocks and sand, finding a couple tide pools with several sea creatures in them, “Look over here!”

“Careful, those are incredibly slippery,”

“I’ve never seen anything like these,” you poke at one. “Wait, didn’t you say high tide is later? That means the water will go even farther than this, we might be in trouble,”

“Not exactly. Tides are different depending on the gravitational pulls and phases of the moons, and this planet has three,”

“So?”

“So we’ll be fine,”

“This water is fresh, Tech. I don’t see how more moons changes the fact that these waves are going to drown us in a few hours,” you sigh. “Look, I get that you’re the intellectual around here, but I had ones like these back on my home planet, I know what I’m talking about,”

“Every planet is different, this one isn’t due for another tide that high for at least a couple weeks, the pools must just be deeper than average,”

“I guess you’re right,” you trust him, so you refrain from bickering any further. “Oh look! I think I’ve seen that fish before!”

“Really?” he cocks his head, looking towards where you’re pointing. “While interplanetary travel of non-sentient species is uncommon, it’s not impossible, although in most cases it’s considered an invasive species-“

“Nevermind,” you say as you lean closer. “It just looks similar,”

“Ah, I see,”

“You know, I love the kind of creatures in here, somehow they manage to survive despite the harsh conditions,” one of them crawls onto your hand. “They just stick to anything they can so they don’t get washed away by the water,”

“Especially somewhere like this,” he nods.

“What are you lovebirds going on about now?” Hunter exhales, walking up to you and barely holding back a smirk.

Both you and Tech immediately stop talking, avoiding eye contact. Sure, it’s true you fancy him a bit, but no way are you lovebirds of any sort. You bicker too much to ever admit your feelings anyway, and all your conversations are friendly or just exchanging thoughts and facts. Nothing special.

“You know,” Hunter continues. “You guys are the smartest people on the crew, but damn are you oblivious,”

He walks away, leaving you two in silence.

Against all odds, Wrecker and Omega actually do manage to make a fire for the evening. Omega’s eyes are glued to the flames, watching in awe and drowning out everything else.

You and Tech haven’t talked much since being called out by Hunter, not necessarily because you’re mad or bitter, but simply because you don’t know what to say.

Was Hunter right? Were you actually super into each other and you were just too stupid to see it?

Now that you think of it, Tech definitely treats you differently than everybody else. Not just because you’re not one of his brothers, but he genuinely goes out of his way to help and care about you. He’s super sweet when he wants to be.

As it gets later, most of the crew heads back to the ship to sleep. You’re honestly not that tired, so you stay by the fire, and Tech doesn’t leave either.

“Hey,”

“Hello,” he nods.

You scoot over until you’re sitting next to him, “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“Just…thinking,” he keeps staring forward at the fire. “For the first time in my life, I’m completely unsure about something,”

“How so?”

“Well, all my life, all our lives for that matter,” he gestures to the ship. “We’ve been born, raised, and trained to be soldiers. We’re literally created and grown for that purpose. We accept early on that we’ll probably never get the opportunity to live a normal life on our own terms. We don’t get the luxury of going where we want to go, staying where we want to stay. We don’t even get to choose our clothes or our food most of the time. We don’t get our own home, we don’t get to pick our jobs, we-“ he pauses. “We don’t get to fall in love,”

A quiet “oh” leaves your lips.

“Now that the Republic is gone, and we left the Empire, we’re not just soldiers anymore. We have the freedom to do all those things we couldn’t do. But how do I know what I should or shouldn’t pursue? How do I know what parts of normal life I should experience?”

You quickly lean in and kiss him, “You try it, Tech,”

He stares at you stunned, struggling to process what just happened.

“I…I think I should try it again. Just to be absolutely certain,”

“Of course,” you chuckle, kissing him again.

#tech x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch imagine #tech imagine

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demigoddessqueens · 3 years ago

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Surrounded By You

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32442172

Admiring the visibility of the blue sea was something that Hazel had only dreamed of before. Sure she had been in lakes and pools before, but the ocean was a whole other life of its own. A life of its own that nurtured the creatures that swam beneath the waves.

And what better way to explore all of the ocean’s gifts than a cruise along the coasts of the Mediterranean, and with such good company. Her travel companions were a cavalcade of characters from across the globe. Each with their own stories that made the night’s dinners more memorable than the last.

Despite all the excitement, nothing could compare to the beckoning call of the ocean. The white sand and sapphire waves were equivalent to the modern sirens’ calls, and the energized young woman intended to make the most out of it. Unbeknownst to her, there was a set of piqued eyes that had been keenly interested since her arrival.

Lysander had been alive for many centuries and had encountered many creatures, both the natural and supernatural. Yet to come across such a human as this woman was a rarity that few of his kind were afforded. The merpeople, merfolk, or fair folk of the sea. Of all the wonders that he had seen, something about this human was different.

Dark, sun-kissed skin and hair as golden as the sands with a dazzling smile that only emphasized her perfect dimples. He thought her on par of the goddesses Circe and Calypso, maybe even a bit more so. From her stance to her graceful dancing, Lysander found himself falling for this human. It started as a foreign feeling, something budding within his heart but as the days grew long, it became something else.

He had to see her. Truly see her, not just from the distance as some horrid creature but to meet her face-to-face. From his perspective, it seemed like the perfect plan. He'd casually swim to make himself seen and known, catch her attention, and see what it eventually led to. The first few attempts were barren, much to his disappointment. Lysander's nerves always getting the best of him and the doubts always sneaking their way into his thoughts.

Would she be afraid of him? Alert the others? Never comeback to the shores and its welcoming waves? He pushed them to the back of his mind, still assuming the best even if it was naïve of him. While the ocean's troubled youth mulled over his thoughts, Hazel made her way across the sands. By this time tomorrow, she would be setting sail back to her home, but it wouldn't be a proper goodbye unless she got in a last swim. In all honesty, her heart grew heavy from the fond memories of laughter and she didn't wish to part so soon.

Throwing caution to the cool winds, she dove head first into the blue crystal waters and savored the last of her freedom. Lysander heard the splash above him from his coral hiding place, seeing the human's swimming form. This was his chance. He had to take it now or he would forever come to regret it. Slowly but surely, he felt himself enchanted by her dance. How she twisted and turned with the tides, and the golden hair that wisped in the current. Hazel stared intently at the reefs that surrounded her, forever implanting this image in her mind before her departure. It felt like an eternity in the pockets of the ocean, until she noticed some movements.

At first she thought it just another sea creature, a fish or crab here or there just exploring around, until she turned to her right and locked eyes with another. These eyes belonged to the merfolk who so longed to see her face to face, and desired just a sliver of her time. Lysander slowly swam to Hazel, both of their hearts hammering in their chests at what transpired. Gently extending his webbed hand forward, he held out the small pooka shell that was cradled in his hand. Every natural instinct and nerve was screaming at Hazel's body to move, or just do anything. She didn't know what unearthly force kept her planted there in that moment.

Was it the fact that she was living out a scene from a fairy tale? That the stories she had heard during her travels had finally manifested? Or was it the fact that this creature was the most ethereal being she had seen? She had thought mermaids to be something otherworldly, but the one that stood before her with a shell in his hand was more beautiful than she could have possibly imagined. Just as intrigued as he seemed to be, she hesitantly reached out and took the humble gift he presented.

The sensation of her hand sent out a soft gasp from Lysander. He noted how her hand still did not move away even after claiming the shell, and he decided to show a bit more of the depths of his affection. He curled his hand around hers, gently grasping at her fingers. The gesture caught Hazel off guard but she returned it as well. Of all the things to happen on her last days, and here she was holding hands with one of the merfolk. In that moment, she thought back to what one of the guests had said over dinner, a poem of sorts that gripped the heart.

She recalled how the older woman who recited it had a certain glint in her eye, one that hinted at a more adventurous time back in her youth: "Unable to perceive the shape of you, I find you all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart, for you are everywhere." Holding onto his hand, the shell's significance starting to weigh on her, Hazel started to doubt if her goodbye was truly going to be forever.

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you-can-call-me-wanda · 3 years ago

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Beach Day

Pairing: David Lee Roth x Reader

A/N: I hope you like this idea! I just had the idea of going to the beach stuck in my head for some reason...

“How did you find this place?”

You looked away from the beautiful scenery in front of you to stare at your boyfriend in awe for a moment. He smirked down at you, proud to have been the one to discover this little private cove at the beach you two were visiting.

There was no one else there in the small outcropping David had stumbled upon earlier that morning, making it the perfect little sanctuary for the two of you. The beach was surrounded by rocks on the left and a few trees grew further back in the sand. To the right side though, it was clear and sandy, perfect for you to lay out a blanket or set up a few chairs and an umbrella. The waves were calm, and shore was littered with shells and pretty rocks.

“I found it this morning,” David said, taking your hand and leading you forward. “I woke up early and went for a walk on the beach while you were still sleeping. I stumbled upon in on accident. Lucky, huh?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said.

“I figured you’d want to see it,” David said, pressing a kiss to your temple lovingly.

You turned your head and kissed him back with just as much affection on the lips.

“You know me well,” you replied.

“C’mon,” he said, tugging you towards the ocean. “Let’s go swimming!”

The water was cold but that was okay because that just meant you and Dave had to hold each other a little closer. You wrapped your arms around his waist, clinging to him, as the two of you jumped over the waves together and lightly splashed the salty sea water at each other, giggling as you did.

You stayed in the water for close to an hour. Dave entertained you both by doing all sorts of tricks like handstands and backflips and cartwheels which he would have you judge.

And, of course, he always found ways to pull you under the water or pop up next to when you weren’t expecting it and scare you. He was like a kid sometimes with all the energy he had but it was just one of the many things you loved about him. You had lots of fun swimming, but eventually, the two of you got somewhat tired and went back to the sand to lay down in the sun for a bit.

You and Dave stretched out on the beach blanket you had set out earlier and your closed eyes contentedly. The sun warmed you up immediately and you felt akin to a cat basking in a sunny window. You could feel Dave behind you, his arm resting against your hip and he rested too. In that fashion, it wasn’t long before the both of you fell asleep.

“(Y/N)!” Come check out what I just found!”

You stirred from your nap at the sound of Dave’s excited call somewhere further down the beach. You opened your tired eyes and blinked into the bright sunlight. Turning your head, you could see your boyfriend jumping up and down and waving you over to him. Letting out a small laugh, you rolled over and got up, making your way over to him.

“What is it?” you asked when you were close enough to him.

“Look!” he said, pointing into a small pool of water.

You peered at it curiously.

“A tide pool?”

“Look inside,” he instructed you. “On that rock right there.”

Your eyes followed his finger. Sure enough, on the rock that David was poiting at, a small pink starfish sat in the water. You gasped, now just as excited as David had been.

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “That’s so cool!”

“I know!” David said. “We should see if there’s any other animals living in here.”

So, that’s what the two of you did next. You sat on the rocks next to the tide pool and carefully examined it. It had lots of nooks and crannies so the two of you took care to check every crevice which you were glad you did. Together, the two of you found two more little starfish, a crab, and some sort of creature that looked like a type of shrimp of sorts.

And there ended up being a whole bunch more tide pools by the rocks that you and Dave got to explore too. Dave held your hand as you climbed along the rocks and explored each of the pools. David was like a kid on Christmas whenever the two of you found some type of new creature living amongst the algae and rocks, he would be jumping up and down and cheering with excitement.

“This has been one of the best days ever,” he said to you, as you returned back to your beach blanket hand in hand after you were done exploring the tide pools.

You grinned at him.

“Yeah?” you said. “I think so too. And the best part is it isn’t even over.”

David smiled at your words and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“What should we do with the rest of our day then?” he asked you.

“Hmm,” you said, thinking. “I don’t know. We could stay to watch the sunset,” you suggested.

David squeezed your shoulder and nodded.

“That sounds great,” he agreed. “As long as I get to be here with you, I’ll be happy.”

#david lee roth x reader #david lee roth imagine #van halen x reader #van halen imagine #wanda writes

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tracybirds · 3 years ago

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It’s Kermadecs season by all accounts it seems :D One of my few joys in lockdown is being only a fifteen minute walk from the beach and I’ve fully embraced my life hanging out at the rock pools :D Inter-tidal zones for the win! Many thanks to @gumnut-logic for the read through and subsequent shrimp chatter - and letting me borrow a mention of Mel from her Kermadecs fic series :D

Hope you enjoy (and if you like please send me your own favourite rocky shore creatures from your part of the world!! I love the little virtual nature walks we have access to!!)

---

Sometimes, Scott only really wanted a moment to be alone. To not have the constant pull of attention over every area of life, to not be questioned, to not make the kinds of decisions that would impact the lives of hundreds across the globe.

Stress built him into a fortress on high alert, suspicious of any entreaty for time and mental guards on high alert for attack.

Virgil had shoved him out of the house and locked the door after his quick temper had lashed out and burned everyone nearby once too often. He was sporting a few scorch marks of his own by the time he’d thrown Scott’s shoes down from the balcony

In hindsight, Scott knew he’d been lucky to be given any equipment at all.

The fresh air cleared his head and he could let the worries of daily life sink beneath the steady rhythm of his feet striking the ground. One after the other, deep breaths in and out, the cool breeze dancing over the barest sheen of sweat on his skin. He traced the familiar routes he’d cut into the bush and over the sheer cliffs, chasing one stunning view after the other.

The landscape dropped, opening up to an oceanic horizon, bowing before the undeniable beauty that demanded the attention of every one of his senses. Trees swayed above him, the birds were singing and there was salt in the air. He couldn’t keep the smile from breaking across his face if he’d tried.

The sunshine glinted merrily across the sea, warm and inviting. The waves rocked back and forth peacefully on the shore, the soft crashing against the rocky cliffs echoing in his ears.

Scott crouched down, pulling his shoes and socks off, and sunk his toes in the sand with a tired sigh. Digging down, deeper and deeper, each grain was cold against his skin despite the warm sun.

He knew the feeling.

Although he couldn’t see any trace of the prominent building that made his home, he knew exactly the way it clung to the clifftop that lay on the other side of the craggy rockface to the south of this wisp of a beach.

This was his home. It was only the reluctance to return that was foreign, the exhaustion settling hard in his stomach like a rock. He shoved it to one side for yet another moment longer and stared out across the water. A gull cried above him, cutting across the silence. Drowning out his own breathing which grew steadily slower and slower, softer and softer in drowsy slumber.

The blue of the sky was beginning to burn with the warmth of the early afternoon when he moved again. Sandy skin pulled over stiff muscles and Scott couldn’t help but groan as circulation returned to his extremities, flexing his hands and stamping his feet.

It was long past time to go home and make amends. He turned, his eyes half closed as he picked his way across the strip of sand.

He pulled himself up short when he noticed a figure had appeared on the far end on the beach. They leapt nimbly from rock to rock, pausing only to stare intensely at the various rock pools that presented themselves only as the tide receded.

Gordon.

Scott jogged slowly over to his brother, burning with curiosity over what his normally exuberant brother was silently doing, neither shadowing Virgil nor being shadowed by Alan.

Whatever it was had Gordon so fully absorbed in his task that he didn’t even glance up at the shadow of his eldest brother looming over him. He merely squinted a little as his eyes adjusted to the change in light and scribbled something incomprehensible into his notebook – a real life paper notebook.

Hidden depths or not, Scott had never known Gordon knew what paper was, let alone had his own little notebook.

“What are you doing?”

Gordon barely glanced up at him.

“Sampling survey.”

“Why?”

“Mel asked. I said yes.”

“What are you sampling?”

“Number and types of species, habitats and placement from low tide mark.”

Scott looked around them at the barren rocks.

“Pretty quick job, is it?”

Gordon laughed as he looked up at his brother.

“Is that what you think?”

“Well, yeah.” Scott paused, starting to feel uncomfortable at the mirth in Gordon’s eyes. The idea that Gordon was laughing at him didn’t sit right with Scott – he was too used to believing the clown act Gordon often put on around him. Hurriedly he added, “I mean, I can see the oysters and stuff.”

“D’you think the oysters just die on their own, do you? Just reproduce unchecked and ready to take over the island?”

Gordon was definitely laughing at him now.

“I don’t know,” said Scott, feeling very suddenly put on the spot. He strained his memory back to the biology class he’d taken his sophomore year of school before vowing he’d never touch the subject again. He couldn’t remember anything about the rocky shore of the South Pacific in his lessons. And in his defence, the subject had likely never been broached.

Gordon grinned lopsidedly up at him and tugged him down so he was crouching beside the rock pool.

“Look closer,” he said. He pointed down at the black snails, huddling in the crevices away from the harsh southern sun, pointed out the flat, scaly critters flush against the wall, the anemone open and vulnerable, their fronds waving slightly as his breath stirred a current in the water.

He looked back up at Gordon, startled by the sheer volume of creatures his eyes had always skated over. Gordon wasn’t paying attention to him, his face soft and vulnerable as he followed the movement of a party of louse-like creatures.

“There’s so many of them.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Gordon, sounding pleased. “This place is alive.”

Scott had to give Gordon credit. He’d certainly never bother to look closely at the life that was apparently teeming everywhere in their home. But as the seconds shifted into minutes and Gordon hardly moved from his spot, Scott had to straighten up and stretch before cramp settled in his limbs. He looked out over the ocean, already a little bored.

“Are you really just going to sit there and stare at sea lice all day?”

A flash of annoyance flickered in his brother’s eyes.

“Maybe.”

“Why do you even care? They’re barely quarter of an inch across.”

“Forget it,” mumbled Gordon.

“No, I want to understand,” said Scott, stubbornly. “What makes these things so interesting to you?”

Gordon watched him steadily for a moment, gauging his sincerity.

Finally, he turned away and looked out across the sea.

“Dad cared,” he said quietly.

Scott blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“Dad cared… about sea lice?”

Gordon reached out and smacked him.

“Are you always this obtuse?” he demanded. “No, not about the sea lice. About this place, about the ocean, about the life unique to our home. It’s not about the damn lice Scott, it’s about how he saw the way I cared and decided that he would care too.”

He looked down at the little pool.

“They’re so tiny, but they have entire lives that play out in front of us every day. And most people don’t even notice. An entire microcosm and you don’t even see it.”

“But they don’t do anything.”

Gordon shrugged, his fingers trailing in the water.

“There’s value in just being, you know Scott. Each species has a role to play, has something to contribute even if you don’t see it. But that’s not what makes this place alive. For that, they just have to exist.”

Scott glanced sharply at Gordon, but his brother seemed utterly absorbed in following the quick movements of some strange tidal fish.

He’d never been particularly good at just being. Scott’s strengths all lay in doing – in working, in chasing, in succeeding. His natural instinct kicked him into action and he’d always centred his life on continual movement, always ready for the next step and the next and the next. Rest was merely an annoyance and he’d always spent the time caught between diving into a different kind of work and chafing against the firm boundary imposed on him when he could be doing something more. Forever running after the next goalpost, wondering when someone would tell him he’d done enough.

But watching Gordon, his eyes soft and fond as he counted fish and snails and dozens of animals besides, Scott thought he could give it a go.

“What’s that one?” he asked, pointing to the strange spindly creature near Gordon’s hand. It seemed to flicker in and out of view beneath the rippling surface.

“Shrimp,” said Gordon absently, flipping to a new section of the notebook and jotting quick marks in the pre-drawn table. His eyes darted back and forth, considering the red stripes on its forelegs.

“Glass shrimp,” he decided, leaving Scott to following its motion from one end of the rock pool to another.

Gordon gathered his gear abruptly and stood, rolling his shoulder. Scott could see another square strategically placed, higher up on the tide line.

“Tide’s turning in half an hour,” he said mildly. “Don’t get caught. You’ll ruin Virgil’s day if he has to come out and rescue you before he gets to yell at you.”

Scott laughed.

“Almost tempting.”

Gordon shoved his shoulder. He pulled a tablet from his pocket and handed it to Scott.

“Here, you can take photos for me. I’ll even tell Mel you helped.”

Scott grinned as he snapped a picture of the shrimp. And then one of himself for evidence.

“Hey, Gordon?” he called after his brother. “Thanks.”

“You’re the one doing me a favour, Scott.”

“No, I mean…” His voice trailed away, unsure of how to explain the relief that was washing over him even now as he watched the tiny hermit crabs scuttling across the rocks. “Thanks for letting me in.”

Gordon paused and glanced back, smile back in full force.

“No problem.”

[click for photos and info about the Glass Shrimp]

#scott tracy #gordon tracy #thunderbirds are go #sometimes i fic #now I'm bouncing off to reread your fic nutty <3 and I do spy the one from gavii too :D #preparing for the first day back at school what's that?#don't be ridiculous

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

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Red thread of fate

Pairing: Vampire Seokjin x Female human reader

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Fantasy au / Soulmates au / Vampire au /

Warnings: Mentions of blood / mentions of staking / oral f.recieving / foreplay with candle wax / bondage / blindfold / dead body / minor character death / self inflicted wound (not fatal and not a suicide attempt)

Summary: The red thread of fate leads you to your soulmate, when it's someone completely unexpected and completely against your upbringing, how will your family history impact on this match and will going against them come back to bite you.

Word count: 6668 (666 👀)

A/N: This is for my BTS writers group secret santa project for @crystaljins I messed up and it ended up being not so secret but I really hope you enjoy this! It’s a bit out of my comfort zone and even though it was stressful, I’ve enjoyed that challenge. Thank you for being so understanding too.

Beta read by @aroseforyoongi thank you for being a life saver! Thank you to @papillonsgf for your helpful advice, who else would I go to about old fashioned language use, you’re the queen. Last but not least @wheresmymoniat for her ENDLESS help and support! I will never be able to thank you enough.

Running along the beach at night with nothing but the moonlight illuminating your way, may be eerie to some but to you, something about the darkness brought you peace. It soothed your mind and silenced your thoughts.

You've been following this feeling for years, letting your feet lead you to the pulling sensation and yet never seeming to get anywhere closer to where it wants you to be.

You've ran across this beach almost every night for the past year, against the ingrained advice of your family, warning you about the demonic creatures that prey on the innocent, concealed under the blanket of night.

So far, the only thing you've come across, night after night, are the echoing sounds of despair, calling along the cool night breeze.

The noise frightened you at first but now, you grow curious about it. Where is it coming from? Who or what is it coming from? And why? What could fill someone with that must much distress, that they call out into nothing? Maybe, it's a cry for help. Who knows but you were determined to find out.

A shadow in the distance catches your eye, a silhouette, someone standing on the wet sand, the low tide pooling around their feet as they stare up at the full moon.

You slow your jogging to a walk, as to not alarm them, the sea lapping against the shore is the only sound you can hear tonight.

As you near, the person turns to you, a man with striking features and broad shoulders. He watches you bewildered as you close the distance between you. Your feet moving on their own, your body being pulled more forcefully than ever before.

Until you're here, in front of him. The one they all whisper about. Kim Seokjin. The town's resident vampire.

The many rumours of him insist he's lived here for more than 200 years, pacing the cliff edge each night, never changing and never aging. Most people laugh it off as nothing but myth but you knew different, you knew the rumours were true. And here you are faced with the man, the mystery, the legend himself. The legend who has slain every vampire hunter he’s come in contact with, another fact you were privy to know.

"It's nice to meet you Seokjin." You say confidently.

He smiles warily, an obvious glint of sadness in his eyes. "I see my reputation precedes me?"

"It does. But it's hard not to recognise the only vampire in town."

He laughs darkly. "Is that what they say?"

You watch him carefully, wondering what could be tormenting him so, a shroud of darkness covering him or keeping him hidden. "It is, but don't worry, I'm very good at keeping secrets."

"If you believe that, are you not afraid?" He turns to face you with a questioning brow and a menacing grin.

You shake your head. "No."

"And why not?" he asks, his face dropping back into a sorrowful mask as he returns his attention back to the inky sea before you.

You turn too, facing the view of the reflected moonlight shimmering across the water and shrug. "Something is telling me I shouldn't be, call me crazy but I can feel that you won't hurt me."

Glancing over, you see him staring down at your hand, wide eyed and open mouthed.

"What?" You ask, examining it suspiciously.

His mouth snaps shut, eyes darting back to yours as his face conceals all emotion.

"What are you doing out this late? Did no one tell you of the creatures of the night?" He teases a slight smirk curving his plump lips., so smooth, there’s not a single wrinkle creasing the skin.

You laugh. If only he knew, your family probably knew more than he did about the creatures in question. "I come along this beach every night."

He frowns. "Alone and in the dark...why?"

Will he think you're crazy if you tell him? No crazier than him being a vampire i suppose. "I'm searching for something."

He turns towards you, his body angled completely in your direction, capturing his full attention. "And what is that?"

You shrug, cheeks flushing but hoping the moonlight isn't enough to reveal your embarrassment. "I'm not sure."

He huffs a laugh out of his nose, the sounds of the air leaving his nostrils strong enough to be heard over the rolling tide. "You are a curious creature."

You raise an eyebrow at him, giving him a quizzical look and he laughs, a light now sparkling in his dark, guarded eyes.

"Touché. Would you care to walk with me?" He asks, stepping out of the surf and back onto the dry sand.

You nod, following the footprints he's already left behind as he heads off in front.

"You seem to know so much about me and I know nothing of you, apart from the fact you like moonlit walks on the beach every night." He looks sideways at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

"Ok, for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one in return."

His mouth stretches into a smile. "Fine but I start."

"Deal; but you have to be honest. No lying."

With a smirk he stops, gently taking your hand in his and bringing your fingers slowly up to his mouth, his eyes staring into you the entire time. "You have my word." He places a chaste kiss on the back of your hand and it's enough to make your heart hammer wildly in your chest. You wonder, embarrassingly, if he can hear it.

"Ok, what is your name?" He starts.

You tell him, leaving out your family name as it may raise more questions than necessary. A confrontation you're not quite read for.

"How long have you lived here?" You ask.

"Here on this earth, or here in this town?"

You smirk at his smart-ass response. "In this town?"

"Roughly, about two hundred and thirty years." He looks over at you, watching your expression carefully for reaction, all you can do is nod, keeping your face impassive. "What were you searching for on the beach?"

You grimace, knowing that question was coming but dreading it just the same. "I truly don't know...it sounds crazy…"

Shrugging, he says, "Try me."

Sighing you give in. "For years, as soon as I turned eighteen, things changed, something was pulling me, leading me. It led me to different countries around the world until eventually...back here. I feel like something's calling me but I have no idea what…" You watch him as he stares at the sand he steps on, a focused frown between his brows. When you get no response, you move on.

"Ok, how long have you lived on this earth?"

"Three hundred and seventy nine years."

He says it so matter-of-factly you mouth 'wow'.

"What countries did this feeling take you to?" He asks quickly, before you even have a chance to begin to process his last answer.

"Erm, France first, then Italy, Peru and lastly Finland. What do you eat?...or drink?"

He gives you a dark look and a mischievous grin stretches his mouth revealing his perfect white teeth. Are they sharp? "What do you think?"

"Don't answer a question with a question." You roll your eyes at him and he laughs, a low chuckle that feels like it vibrates your soul, warming you up from the inside.

"As you wish...I drink blood. Does that make you nervous?"

An involuntary swallow makes its way down your throat and your cheeks flush. "A little." You admit sheepishly. "Do you only drink from humans?"

"No, sometimes animals. Do you want children in the future?"

You choke on air at the strange turn in questioning, always feeling uncomfortable when kids are mentioned, always ready for the judgement your answer brings. "No, I'm not keen on them and they don't like me."

He laughs, the high pitched screech ringing out around you, bouncing off the cliff faces as you walk and you realise you’re smiling up at him in response.

"Do you kill the people you drink from?"

He reels at your abruptness but amusement sparkles in his eyes. "No, they go home unharmed and usually, do not remember a thing. Do you have a significant other?"

"No.” you ignore the tug of loneliness you feel at the reminder but try not to pause too long. “Is that one of your...gifts, you make people forget?"

He nods. "Of sorts. Have you ever been in love before?"

You feel hot under your shirt, the material suddenly too clingy and uncomfortable and the questions getting too personal but you can’t stop answering as you need to know more about him and you can’t explain why. "...no. Have you seen much of the world?"

"I have been to many places in my lifetime and seen many things, yes. Do you believe in love?"

You stumble slightly and his hand instantly wraps around your arm, steadying you with a firm and yet gentle grip. "Um, yes I do. Where's been your favourite places to visit?"

"I'm sensing you like to travel, hence the line of questioning. Well, most recently, I've been to France, Italy, Peru and Finland." He watches you from the corners of his eye and you frown, curious as to why, when his answer registers.

Your feet stop moving, they can't-won't move. You stare at his broad back before he slows and turns to you.

"When did you go there?" You ask into the heavy silence, no longer hearing the waves lap against the shore.

He looks out to sea, away from you. "I think you know the answer."

You did, but you had to hear him say it, you needed to hear the words. Your frozen form unmoving with wide, seeking eyes, your mind frantic as you try to make sense of this.

He sighs. "I left here three years ago and returned last year."

Your mind explodes with questions. How is this possible? And what does it mean?

"Let me ask this then, where is that feeling of yours pulling you now?" He asks, closing the distance between you and gently cupping your face. You find yourself leaning into it, his touch seeming to comfort your wild thoughts, if only for a moment before you remember he’s a stranger to you. You hear his question bounce around in your mind, realising alarmingly that you're not being pulled anywhere. You feel completely in control of yourself for the first time in a long time, completely at ease and at peace.

Your body feels lighter, your mind free of wondering.

Him. It couldn’t be...could it? If it is him...why?

He must see the question behind your eyes, he strokes his thumb across your wrinkled brow, smoothing the skin and forcing your muscles to relax.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of the red thread of fate?"

What do you do when you find your soulmate? The person, or vampire in your case, who is bound to you forever…

What could you do? No use fighting fate, you'll only end up being proven wrong.

You'd listened intently, when Seokjin had explained all about the red thread and told you many true stories of soulmates with both happy and tragic ends, until the sky was light and the sun was almost up and he had to retire back to his extraordinary house on the cliffs.

He had told you that vampires have sight for the thread, only attached to themselves and no one else but that they lack the ability to be able to follow it, unsure as to why, he insists it’s another way for vampires to be tortured.

You have a lot of information to process and want time alone to do so.

You lock yourself in your apartment the morning after meeting him. The one your soul is bound to. The one who will have your heart completely. Even as you think it, it feels odd. What are you having such a hard time with? If vampires are real, why not soulmates?

For days you keep yourself trapped inside, unable to keep your pacing legs still, as you incessantly wear a beaten pathway through the pile of your plush carpet.

The storm swirling in your mind, turning your thoughts into a twister of frenzied energy, you grapple with yourself in a constant battle to keep yourself grounded whilst also listening to your heart over your head.

This goes against everything you've been raised to believe. Vampires are predatory monsters, who crave on the pure and innocent to torture and outlive their perverted desires.

What would your parents say if they knew? You could envision a few choice words, at the very least but do you even care what their response would be? Definitely not. And yet, here you are, staring absentmindedly out of your window the view of the beach haunting you, possessing your mind with his face, his laugh, his voice. Your head feels torn, split in two, a crack right down the middle of your skull seeping out sanity as you cradle your head in your hands, a feeble attempt to keep it together.

Your clammy palms and racing heart cannot be calmed no matter what you try in the few torturous days you've spent inside. Something's not right, you feel it in your bones. That usual pulling feeling returns with vengeance, fighting the force on your vital organ makes you sick to your stomach.

You expected to welcome it with open arms, as you'd grown accustomed to it like an old friend, comforted by it sometimes but as you sit, wrapped in a blanket on your sofa, you feel frantic. A sheen of sweat dampens your brow, restless fidgeting of your feet and legs, an uncomfortable pit in your stomach, heavy as a rock. You can't resist any longer. You have to get out. You have to go to him. You swallow a harsh lump in the back of your throat, the need to scream rising with bile and you grab your coat, your legs leading you, running along the wobbly paths, taking you onto the beach and along the sea edge, back to the same place you stood a few nights ago.

When you see him standing in the distance once again, nothing but the moonlight on him, your legs gain power and charge you towards him. He is your only destination right now, the only end you seek, the only holy grail you desire.

His head snaps up to you as he begins to close the distance too. He's in front of you before you can blink, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle, clinging to your back in sheer desperation as you fling your arms around his neck and do the same. His relieved breath sounds in your ear As you feel all your stress and pain ease away, washing away with the tide that bleeds into your shoes and tickles your feet.

An overwhelming comfort encases you, emotion swelling in your chest and spilling from your eyes.

Trying to stay away from him had been a mistake, you realise, as you allow yourself to be drawn in and swallowed by him. No more resisting.

"The last few days have been unbearable." He whispers.

And with his words, you know, everything you feel, he feels too.

You unwind yourself from him, pulling back to witness his beauty and fathom his expression. His brows knit together tightly as his eyes mirror yours, searching for answers in the depths of glassy pools.

"I was terrified, after years of waiting for you that you would…" he trails off, mouth open but no words escaping.

"I would what?" You reply, stroking his tortured face, trying to ease some of his anguish.

"Cut the thread." He whispers pained, eyes looking away from yours and locked to the ground.

"How could you cut something you can't see?"

He sighs and presses his forehead to yours. "If you were sure in your mind that you wanted nothing to do with me and refused me, the thread would be severed."

You place your palms against his cheeks and bring his face up, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"These few days have been torture for me too. I thought I needed time to think things through and understand but now I see as clear as day, I need you, Seokjin. I need you like I need air."

The relieved smile that spreads across his face contradicts the desperation in his eyes as you find your lips against his, locked in a ravenous dance of love and lust. He pulls you against him, your body moulding to his perfectly, like two puzzle pieces designed to fit.

When he pulls away, you're dizzy and breathless, and yet, still craving more.

"Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you tastes like." He whispers against your mouth. Your throat contracts as you picture his teeth sinking into you, blood trickling down your neck as you're helpless to stop it and panic seizes your heart in a vice grip.

He sees the alarm in your eyes and laughs. "I was not referring to your blood, my love."

His seductive tone has your core pulsing with heavy need, an ache forming and residing there as your mouths meet again, entranced in a ravenous flutter of his pillowy lips against yours.

You want him. You need him. And he is yours for eternity, you can have him.

Night after night in his old, gothic mansion, exploring each others minds, souls and bodies, you are weightless with adoration and besotted by the way his mind works. His old fashioned language mesmerising as you listen each evening to his riveting stories and tales.

You laugh together under a blanket of firelight and warmth with soft, gentle touches across bare skin and fierce kisses trailing a heat you've never felt. And when the sun comes up and the curtains are drawn to keep the daylight at bay, the exploration continues, physically this time, your bodies forming together as one. Touches become hungry and desperate the further you delve into the never ending pit of pleasure. He worships every inch of you, hardly letting you catch your breath before his cool skin is against yours, enveloping you entirely in a euphoric haze you don't ever want to escape from.

"Do you trust me?" He says quietly, breath fanning out over your face.

You nod.

"I need words, darling." He strokes a thumb across your bottom lip and tugs it from between your teeth.

"Yes." You reply, louder than you expect.

"Alright, alright, we are not in the military, calm down."

You can hear the smirk in his voice as you slap him playfully on what you assume is his chest.

He adjusts the black blindfold that covers your eyes, moving it down slightly to completely conceal your vision.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks in your ear as he checks your rope bondaged arms, tight enough to pinch but not enough discomfort for you to refuse them.

"Yes." You arch your back, pushing your crotch forward, impatient and begging to be touched, the action causing your wrists to pull tight on the rope binding you to the ceiling.

His mouth is on your thigh instantly and it makes you gasp as he leaves light, wet kisses in a teasing trail straight to your core.

"If you want me to stop at any point, you will tell me, yes?" He whispers against your clothed sex, the hot air of his breath making you buck your hips towards him, hoping to find some friction but to no avail.

"So eager." He tuts at you, you might not be able to see but you can imagine the triumphant look on his face.

He hooks a finger inside your underwear, pulling them aside before his mouth is on you.

Your moan fills the room, bouncing off the cold, stone walls of his old house.

The way he offers up pleasure like a man possessed, his lurid moans only making your need for him grow tenfold. As you writhe before him, desperate for release but also for it not to be over so soon, he holds you firmly at your sides.

The wet sounds his mouth makes fill the otherwise silent room. His name falls from your lips repeatedly, and when you feel the sweet build up begin he slips a finger gently inside you. You gasp, surprised as he beckons your orgasm with his perfectly crooked finger, each movement coaxing it further to the edge. As his tongue moves faster than possible, the sensation breath-taking, you hang off of the woven ropes, your suspended arms making your breaths harder and your head giddy.

"Let go, my love." He whispers against you and at his words you obey, unravelling around him, pleasure pulsating through you with every pound of your heart, just for him. Every arch of your back, every curl of your toes, for him.

You feel his teeth graze your inner thigh, knowing the temptation he feels to sink them into you and taste but his refusal to do it overpowers every time.

He crawls up your body and places his face against your chest, as your hammering heart calms back to its regular beat.

"Does listening to my heart not make you thirsty?" You wonder, wishing you could see his face.

"A little but the more I listen, the more familiar I'll be with it."

"And that means there's less risk of you biting me?"

He makes a disgusted noise in his throat. "There is no risk of that anyway, I am not an infant vampire, I can control myself, especially with you." He pauses and you hear him sigh. "No, it just means that I will be more attuned to the sound of your heart. So if I lose you in a crowded place, say, I can use it to find you."

Call it naivety, or simply your rebellion against your parents and your refusal to listen to their advice or warnings, but you're still shocked that vampire senses are that impressive.

Your thoughts shatter as his wandering hands and mouth snap you back into the present, deep, hungry need rising fast from the sated pit inside you, once again. He removes your blindfold, pulling the tie with one hand, whilst the other still roams your body. He pulls away, only to remove his shirt and reveal his impressive, broad frame. His bare skin, glowing in the flicker of candle light as he fetches a burning wick and brings it over to your still bound frame.

“Have you ever felt the heat of candle wax?” He asks, his voice smooth as silk and turning your insides to jelly. You shake your head, entranced by the way he’s watching you, like you hold all the answers to life’s questions, like you are his own personal sun chasing away the darkness he stresses is residing in his hell bound soul.

“Would you like to?”

You nod. Words seeming to have escaped and rendering you incapable.

He brings the candle close to your breasts, his eyes meet yours, you see the heat blazing and baring towards you, sweeping you up as it goes and carrying you to breathless want.

He tilts the wick and as the pooled wax tips over the edge and lands on the skin on the swell of your breasts you gasp. The burn sharp and sudden but as it cools and turns hard the pleasure makes you throb for more. He obliges, hot wax searing and hardening in some of your most sensitive areas and when you think you can’t cope with not having him inside you, he obliges that too.

Always the gentleman, he clasps your hand in his on your annual evening walk, his thumb tracing loving circles on your skin. His eyes wandering to your face, not interested in the picturesque views around you.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" He asks quietly, his voice slicing through the silence like a sharpened blade.

Him. You're always thinking about him. When you're about to be forthcoming with that, you feel him stop moving, eyes far away and scouring the trees that surround you in this woodland. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end in a piercing stance as you too can feel the eyes on you, unsure of their purpose or whereabouts.

“Let us go home. Quickly.” He announces, pulling you close to him as you turn and back track the way you came, searching frantically for the opening where the moonlight can illuminate your path and any predators who may be lurking.

Who would dare prey on a vampire, that is faster and stronger than average? You knew but you were desperately hoping you were wrong.

Your feet struggle to keep up with his pace, him almost lifting you off the ground. His eyes tense and his jaw set as he remains solely focused on your route to safety. Before long you see the opening of the trees parting and just as you pass through them and take off down the hill back to his home, you glance behind you.

A shadowy figure emerges from the trees, still cloaked in darkness from the overhang of the leafy branches and your heart leaps into your throat at the sight, knowing you were being watched and followed. You can’t take your eyes off the unmoving silhouette as you know his stare follows you down the hill, burning holes into the both of you. When you find yourself wondering who could be interested in the both of you, the figure turns and walks back into the woods. Your body goes cold, blood turning to ice in your veins as your heart stills before hammering wildly against your ribs...as you watch the figure limping back into darkness. The same limp your father is plagued by.

Jin’s eyes are on your face before glancing quickly at the place your gaze is frozen to, hoping...praying that you imagined that.

You can’t bring yourself to meet his worried stare the whole way home, as he cradles you into his chest, surrounding you with his warmth, it is not enough to thaw the ice inside you or calm the frantic beat of your heart. And as his comforting arm wraps tightly around you, pinning you to him, you cling to it desperately as if you'll be able to keep him safe just by the action. If you hold him tight enough you won't lose him. If only that were true. You know more than anyone, the determination of your father, if he wants him dead, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feeling like barbed wire as it travels down slow and sharp. Images of your perfect Jin, wide-eyed, cold and expressionless as he lay on the floor in front of you, your father towering over him, smiling, that same sickly smile that makes your stomach churn.

You must protect Jin at all costs. You can't let anyone else, human or creature, die at the hands of your family.

Jin's library is something else. Sitting in his ornate armchair, running your hands along the smooth metal arm rests, your fingers following the intricate designs that are carved, you relax into the feather cushions.

While he was out hunting, you came to do some exploring, knowing you had a couple of hours while he was out. After pleading with him to be careful, keep his wits about him and expect the unexpected you had eventually stopped clinging onto him and let him leave the safety of your embrace. He'd showered you with kisses and whispered sweet nothings until it soothed you. You decide best to stay busy while he's gone, as to not drive yourself insane.

He had mentioned before of books written about true life accounts of vampires and other creatures and you couldn't help but wonder if your family would get a mention in their historical tales.

How wrong you were.

You gently finger the delicate, worn pages, turning through the chapter dedicated to your heritage. All thirty four pages of your family history. Paintings of each member, personal information to use against them and even a mention of when you were born.

The pages quiver in your trembling fingertips as you stare at your parents names and their sketched faces, posed as if for a wanted poster.

You read the printed words about their escapades. Having learnt about each one yourself, been subject to their bragging sitting behind your desk while they tried to teach you their hate for all things mystical, hearing words like abomination, unnatural, wrong, despicable; all to describe anything different from themselves. You'd never had it in you, the ability to hate anything that much, that you could harm it. And after years of abuse when they realised your mind was nothing like theirs, when they realised you wouldn't carry on their traditions of hunting and murdering they locked you up and tried to teach you that way. Only for it to backfire, your disdain for them growing to an immeasurable amount causing them to disown you. Since then, at the age of 18, you'd gotten as far away from them as you could. Now knowing you followed your heart around the world and back, chasing him.

"My love, what's wrong?" Jin's voice sounds into your chaotic thoughts, slicing through them and freezing them in their tracks.

You look down at your still shaking hands and feel the wet trails drift down your cheeks, warm pent up emotion leaking out and dripping onto your shirt.

He’s at your side, brushing the tears off your face, his face following your eyes to see what has you so alarmed.

“Why are you reading about this?” he takes your hands gently from the pages and pulls you to him, enveloping you in his arms and kissing your hair. “Don’t worry, those stories are from years ago, most vampire hunters have given up and returned to hiding in their shadows.”

The soothing strokes of his hand up and down your back calm you somewhat, but you shouldn’t be calmed, you need to be honest with him. The truth will come out, it’s better that it comes from you.

You gently push away and steel yourself, bracing yourself for every possible reaction, he watches you bewildered.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He stretches a hand out and you know if you take it you’ll crumble, losing your courage to explain who you truly are.

“I have something to tell you.” you sigh looking at the floor, ashamed of the words you’re about to say. “I’ve not been entirely honest.”

He steps forward, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your face up to meet his confused gaze. “You can tell me anything, dearest, you know that.”

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat and try to ignore your heart pounding in your ears, making it hard for you to focus on anything else but the incessant thrumming.

“Jin, I—” The sound of glass shattering in the distance cuts you off from your confession. Both your heads snap up towards the doorway, you take a tentative step forward but his arm comes out in front, halting your feet firmly where they are.

“No, I’ll go, it’s probably just the wind knocking over a vase, we wouldn’t want you to cut yourself now, would we?” he offers you a weak smile and exits the room, leaving nothing but a breath of a breeze in his wake.

Of course, if you’re bleeding he might find that too difficult to resist and he’s expressed time after time how much he detests the idea of drinking your blood.

Your eyes drift back towards the book. The image in front of you, your fathers wrath twisting his face into that ugly mask you know so well, only it’s not a mask at all. His true self reveals in the moments of his most despicable actions. He towers over a woman, a female vampire, the terror in her eyes as she’s staked through the heart.

You turn the page quickly, unable to look at it any longer. Your heart aches for her, for all those killed in your family’s name. Now you’re met with your family tree, pictures of members you know and some you don’t, all inked in these pages. Some names had gaping holes, almost as if they’ve been burnt from the book, the edges dark and withered. You lean in and touch, feeling the way the page has stiffened along the uneven brim.

The sound of a scream cuts into the silence, echoing up the halls to you, your head snaps up before feeling uncomfortable heat on your fingers, you glance down and see the page on fire. You snatch your hand away and watch as your fathers face disintegrates before your eyes, the paper peeling off into ashes and floating in the air around you. The fire fizzles out, leaving a hole identical to the others on the page. You frown wondering why the entire book didn’t go up in flames and why these faces have been burnt from the book. As your mind whirls you hear a grunt in the distance, realising you’ve been side tracked you rush out and run along the corridor and along the stairs, eye scanning your surroundings until you find him.

He leans into the table in the dining hall, hunched over. You rush to his side only to be stopped in your tracks by the dead body that stares back at you. The same twisted angry face, even in death; your father. Older and fatter as you last saw him and somehow still managing to look at you with such disgust even with his cold lifeless eyes. But as you stand here, staring at his demise, the part of you that you thought would grieve when you knew this moment had come greets you with silence. She is as still as you are. The only thing you feel is relief, to never see him or be frightened of him again. You tear your eyes away, part of you still apprehensive that he won’t rise up and attack, that it won’t be the end. But it is.

You touch Jin lightly on the shoulder. “What happened?” you ask to his back.

He turns slowly, supporting himself with the polished wooden surface of the expensive antique. That’s when you see it. The stake, protruding from his side, red darkening the white shirt into an alarming pattern.

Your heart sinks, falls to the pits of despair as hope leaves you, floating away out of your grasp. This can’t be it. You’ve only just found him, you can’t lose him now, not when you’re finally free of your past.

“No. No, no, no. You can’t leave me.” you help him as he sinks to the floor, cradling his face in your hands, desperation seeking his eyes for a positive solution.

“I’m afraid I have to, my love.” His mouth twists in pain as he speaks as his hands rip the stake out of his side. He pushes against it, trying to stem the blood seeping out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault. I should have told you who I was.” you say as tears run freely down your face, anguish twisting your heart into a suffocating and painful embrace.

He gives you a strained smile. “Dearest, I already knew.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “How?”

“I can read you so well, you’re always so guarded about your family, all it took...was a flick through a few books...for me to figure it out.” He shifts, trying to ease the pain and you place your palms over his wound, your pathetic attempt at stopping the inevitable. “What I can’t understand...is why you wouldn’t tell me? There’s nothing you could do...that could stop me loving you, especially not something so little as...your family name.” he speaks in between breaths, his words filling your heart to the brim with devotion.

“Please, don’t leave me.” You beg, knowing it’s in fate's hands now.

“I don’t want to, my love.” he lifts a trembling hand to your face, cupping it as you touch your forehead to his.

If only you were not so extraordinarily ordinary, if only you had some power of your own, you could save him, instead of sitting here helpless. If only you had something that could save him. You look down once again at his wound, a blanket of hopelessness weighing you down, the dark red trickling down into a pool on his varnished floor, growing in size by the minute.

Blood. BLOOD! You have blood. It might not heal him completely but it’s bound to help!

You stand, looking wildly for anything that could help you slice your skin.

“Darling, what are you doing? Come back to me?” he says weakly.

You spot the letter opener on the table on the far side of the room, the sharp metal glinting in the light. You race over, grabbing it and returning to him.

“What are you doing with that?” He asks, eyes full of terror. “You have to live, I will find you again in our next life, but you have to live out this one otherwise your soul will—”

You put a finger to his lips silencing him. “If you drink my blood, will it heal you?”

He looks at the blade poised above your wrist and back at your face. “I cannot, I will not drink from you.”

Your frantic mind screams inside, torment making you impatient and wild, heartbreak making you willing to try anything. “Seokjin, I swear, if you do not try to survive, I will bring you soul back from the pit of hell myself.”

He lets out a weak laugh. “As you wish, but promise me, if I can not stop drinking, you have to do whatever is necessary to survive?”

You nod as you slice across your wrist, watching the blood seep out of the opening, you hear his sharp intake of breath as you hold your arm to his mouth. His lips quickly encase you and he sucks, he takes your blood until he’s on his knees cradling your arm, devouring you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. His own personal banquet.

“Jin, enough now, you have to stop.” you say, sounding surprisingly weak.

He doesn’t respond, just carries on swallowing the life from you.

“Jin, enough.” you tap him weakly.

At your touch he pries himself off of you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you ok?” His panicked eyes search yours.

You nod. “That was a close one.”

He grimaces and slides an arm under your legs and the other around your back and lifts you, carrying you away from your fathers dead body, away from the blood, away from all of it.

Relief swarms you, heart fit to burst as you watch his handsome face, the colour returned, the life and mischief that sparkle in his eyes and bury your face into his neck, planting small kisses against his skin. “Thank you.” He says to you. “You saved me.”

You smile. He’s ok, he’s with you, you’re both safe. “How could I not? You would have done the same.”

“I would rather die with you, than live an eternity without you.”

You smile against his throat, his words flutter your insides. “Well, there’s only one way to make sure we spend eternity together.”

He looks down at you, searching your eyes. You’re not sure what he finds but whatever it is leads him to respond. “That’s a conversation for another night.”

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