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miabebe · 11 months ago

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Christmas With Seventeen

Scenarios of what I think Christmas season will be like with the Seventeen members :)

A/n - this is my first time writing fluff, I don't do fluff, like ever. Guess I'm in a mood this holiday season. Mild suggestive if you squint hehe. It's not proof read, specially since I'm a day late with this lol, will fix the tenses and mistakes later, sorry!

Seungcheol - Christmas Homebody

Seungcheol absolutely loves Christmas. He would be so excited the days leading up to it. He loves accompanying you to shop for decorations (of course he makes sure to pay for every last thing). He loves noticing even the small things you look and smile at so he can buy and gift them to you (the man truly spoils you). He loves watching you decorate the Christmas tree and loves it even more when you ask him to help put the ornaments up where you can't reach.

But the colder it gets, he turns into a homebody, preferring to stay in rather than going out, like he promised he would this year. As compensation, he obediently sits and binge watches your favourite rom coms (that he too obviously loves and secretly cries through). What he loves most is when the two of you cuddle under the sheets by the fire place, in a way that allows him to place soft kisses behind you ear time and again. This was all he ever wanted.

Jeonghan- Christmas Adventurer

Jeonghan hates the winter cause the cold is truly not his best ally but when it comes to an adventure, he's always down. Jeonghan loves making precious memories so taking you to the skii cabin that he used to go to as a child is just another way for him to make a great memory even better. (Plus, he'd also get to show off his mad skills on the slopes). That being said, the man still hates the cold so do expect the mornings to start with a lot of never ending whining of wanting to stay in bed, wrapped up with you.

Once you manage to drag him out though, drowning him in thick layers of clothes, he's unstoppable and a totally different man - excited, mischievous, hurling snowballs at you, tackling you into a snow fight filled with kisses and giggles. In the evening, when the whole family gathers in the lounge for a lego building competition, he's his most serious self, and you watch him, smiling to yourself over a hot cup of chocolate.

Joshua- Christmas Dinner Host

Shua is truly a people's person. He's always celebrated Christmas quite traditionally given his childhood in the US. For him, its all about family and company so he's definitely down to host a Christmas dinner in his house. There's Secret Santa, drunk friends loudly singing carols and everyone is just having a good time. He doesn't like watching you spend so many long and tiring hours in the kitchen cooking up a feast so his dinners are always a potluck.

Oh and of course, there's always a dress code - Joshua needs a little madness in his life so costumes is where he lets himself get crazy. Last year, everyone had to dress up in their ugliest Christmas sweater and this year too he's surely up to not good, you just don't know what yet. What you do know, is that nearing midnight, once he kicks everyone out, he'll come back and throw himself onto you in the bed, kissing you softly before the two of you fall asleep, tired but happy.

Jun - Christmas Dancer

Christmas isn't really a huge deal for Jun. He's just happy to get a few days off to celebrate some festivities and spend some time with you. Come Christmas he's taking you out to your favourite restaurant which he reserved weeks ago. After that, he takes you for a surprise - a night of salsa dancing downtown. The two of you dance for hours, laughing and spinning away. He loves watching you move in the dress you've been dying to wear, stealing little kisses whenever he can. He can also see all those other men glance at you more than often but he doesn't care - He knows you only have eyes for him.

At the end of the night, when your feet cannot take the heels anymore, he offers to give you his shoes which you promptly reject, it would be too cold for him. So instead, he decides to carry you till the train station on his back, your arms tightly wrapped around him, only regretting his decision when you start playfully whispering graphic and inappropriate things in his ear.

Hoshi - Unconventional Christmas

Hoshi doesn't follow trends, he sets them. For him it's all about standing out, making new traditions, thinking out of the box. That's why there's an upside down Christmas tree and Christmas gloves instead of stockings in your house. Though there are some (cringey) traditions he strictly follows like wearing matching pajamas while video calling both your families. Of course he was disappointed when you rejected his tiger pajama idea yet again but he was still happy to wear the red and green ones you bought.

He also likes to sit you on the kitchen counter and cook something you like, definitely with your instructions and guidance. When you clean up for the night, surprisingly, he's not giving you company. Instead, you discover, he's busy building a blanket fort in the middle of your living room, filling it with pillows, fairy lights and a mini projector. You're not really sure what movie you watched that night. Not with the two of you busy with hands roaming around each other amidst the sheets.

Wonwoo - Christmas is all about You

For Wonwoo, any holiday is a good opportunity for him to engage in some of his more favourite activities like gaming for hours on the end. But he knows how much you love Christmas so this holiday is entirely yours, he'll do whatever you want. This year you dress him up to match your outfit and take him to the Christmas market, roaming from stall to stall, dragging him excitedly. Not only does he sweetly follow you, carrying all the excessive shopping you've done, he also makes it a point to capture every reaction of yours on that camera of his.

His favourite photo is probably the one of you looking up at the night sky in awe at the first snow of the year - you look so damn beautiful, he can just keep watching you for hours on the end. When he notices you slightly shivering, he wraps you in his jacket, pulling you close. The soft kiss you give him on his nose gives him all the warmth he needs.

Woozi - Christmas at work

Christmas for Woozi doesn't necessarily mean a holiday. Of course the company gave him the week off but he has deadlines to meet. On Christmas day though, he mentally prepares himself to leave earlier than usual but you know, like always, he'll get too immersed in his work and forget the time. You decide to bring Christmas to him instead so when he wakes in his studio on Christmas morning, you're already there, decorating the place, earning his fond smile.

The two of you spend hours there, you watching him work and him making you listen to some of his tracks in progress. He loves the way your eyes shine when you listen to his songs, that's why you find yourself being pulled into his lap, lips trapped in a deep kiss. When he pulls away, much to your surprise, he asks to head back home. He was serious when he decided to wrap up his work earlier than usual - He wants nothing more than to be with you, in the peace of your home, alone.

Seokmin - Handmade Christmas

Seokmin loves the little Christmas traditions you follow - buying a new ornament for the tree every year, making your very own Christmas wreath and baking that delicious log cake you always make without fail. This year he wants to switch things up a bit so he's been going to classes for a while now, learning pottery and clay modelling secretly. He gifted you the most beautiful handmade coffee mug for Christmas (knowing your habit of having a cup first thing in the morning) but he has more in mind - he wants the two of you to sit together and make this year's new ornament for the tree.

He guides you, teaching you patiently but also laughing at your little mishaps and failings. The lesson ends with a new angel figurine hanging on the tree and the two of you smothered with clay and paint on the floor under it, laughing against each others lips. It makes him all the more happier when you slide him a scarf that you made, after weeks of secret knitting classes.

Mingyu - Christmas Cooking

Of course Mingyu is the most excited about the food and booze when it comes to Christmas. He's been working on his own batch of cherry wine for weeks now and wow does it taste amazing. He's also got some mulled wine that he started making, but that's for after dinner. Speaking of dinner, he loves switching up the menu every year and on this year's list are mostly desserts, which means hours of baking together. He absolutely loves the little icing and decorations you've done on the gingerbread cookies - that crazy creative side of yours always amuses him.

Obviously he's also made a huge Christmas playlist and is blasting them on the speakers through the day. He's also randomly pulling you into the living room for a dance, making sure the two of you somehow, end up under the mistletoe so he can sneak in a few mandatory kisses. It's only when you're both slightly tipsy and settling into the couch for the night that he considers it to be a successful day.

Myungho - Artsy Christmas

Well, if there's a new exhibition in town, of course Myungho was going to take a look. Except, the last day was exactly at the time his year end break started, which meant he only just missed the chance to see it. When he messaged the organisers that he was sad to have missed their show and would love to catch them next year, they immediately responded saying they were willing to open the exhibition one more night, just for him. And you too of course.

That's how on Christmas evening, the two of you found yourself having a little museum date, with the whole space all to yourself. For a while he walked around excitedly talking about the history and artists of various pieces but the night eventually ended with some horribly inaccurate but hilarious impressions of paintings. Safe to say, the both you have new wallpapers on your phone now - a picture of him kissing you in front of the painting of a lady who looks mortified.

Seungkwan - Christmas with Family

You were pleasantly surprised when Seungkwan surprised you with 2 plane tickets to go back and see you family this holiday. He was familiar with your family through phone calls and video chats but he still hadn't met them in person and you weren't sure if Christmas was the right time for that considering your whole extended family would be home. You hoped for the best as the two of you got home, but honestly, there could be nothing better than this.

He fit into your family perfectly - everyone loved him, they were always laughing when he was around, even the family dog seemed to always want to sit by him. Your favourite moment though was watching him sitting in the middle of your many nieces and nephews, reading them a whole bunch of Christmas tales. When he looked up and smiled at you, you sent all the kids off for dinner, pulling him for a deep kiss before softly suggesting the two of you go off to start a family of your own.

Vernon - Christmas Overseas

Vernon didn't think Christmas would turn out like this - Flying into Paris on the Christmas morning, attending the brand event in the afternoon and the after party at night - it was not a part of his plan at all. The only good thing that came out if it was that you agreed to join him. He was glad the two of you had a chance to fly in a private plane early in the morning. And that you were cozily sitting next to him along the run way. And that you looked so absolutely stunning in that black gown his team put you in for the after party.

That's why after he made an appearance and posed for a few pictures, he softly held your hand and lead you out, escaping silently from the paps. Then he called for a horse carriage fit for royalty, claiming you look like no less than one and sat, his arm wrapped around you safely. As you drove into the night, snow falling prettily, he left soft kisses on your neck, sighing that he was so happy you're here with him.

Dino - (Un)planned Christmas

Dino had been dying to get out of the country for days now. He knew you too were sick and tired of the cold and were in desperate need of a retreat. That's why for the year end holidays, he planned a trip to Greece, knowing it was on your bucketlist for years now. He made sure to plan the perfect vacation, the right blend of touristy things and relaxing activities.

On Christmas day though, he didn’t forget to give you his gift - a lovely blue dress for a special dinner. He also rented out that convertible you're always talking about (in the exact same colour as the dress he got you) and drove you into the sunset, blasting the mixtape that you gifted him. It was absolutely perfect, just the two of you in your own world until it began pouring rain, forcing him to quickly pull up into a nearby shelter. But when Dino watched you getting wet, enjoying the rain on your own as he tried to fix the hood of the convertible, he gave up and joined you, laughing as he ducked away from your water attack and pulled you into a long kiss.

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elliotsblunt-2 · 3 years ago

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castaways | elliot

pairings — elliot/reader | vampire!au |

summary : In an alternate universe, the world is separated into two. Vampires and humans. The Vacuo is the town of the blood suckers, but what happens when a fragile mortal takes the wrong turn on a road trip and stumbles upon the border of the god forsaken land?

warnings : humor, fluff, angst, smut, drinking blood, overstimulation, clit play, biting, choking, sweet sex, oral sex (f) receiving, the L word, not proof read

word count : 9.4K

authors note : i know this is a bit out there, but i had the idea and needed to go with it. i’m very proud of the outcome of this fic and hope you all like it—so here it is !!

song based off this : castaways by 5 seconds of summer

elliot masterlist navigation

Muttering a curse, your steering wheel jerked as the pebbles beneath your wheels cracked in your ears. Your boss had demanded that you return back to the office to finish up your thesis on your latest article about the vamps that set fire to the orphanage in Brookhurst lane. It had happened a few weeks ago, the news setting tears in your eyes at how devastating it was. Three children had perished, at the hands of the “filthy bloodsuckers”— quoted by many people, including your boss.

You had to admit, the news was hard to hear. You hadn’t expected those things to do something so ghastly, so horrible. But then again, they killed innocent humans and drank their blood, so you couldn’t say you were surprised. But still—you had minor hope for them, well, that was until this morning when that event occurred.

The night was extra dark tonight, clouds nowhere to be seen, but no stars being evident on the black canvas. Your glasses fell to the tip of your nose as you sighed, eyes burning with slight weariness, wanting to get this stupid paper done so you could return to your apartment and sleep for the next few days. A yawn had torn from your lips as you made a sharp turn, spotting a dirt road up ahead. Your eyes thinned as an idea popped into your head; listening to your thoughts before delving down that direction.

It looked like a quicker way to get to your destination. Perhaps if you cut through the woods you could get cut some time.

Another sigh leaving you, your eyes slightly watered for a moment. Your vision blurred as you smacked your lips, eyes rounding when a certain black shadow appeared in front of the headlights of your car. Woods surrounding you, it shocked you that someone or something was out this late at night, a gasp tearing through you as your foot stomped on the break. Neck flinging forward, your forehead smashed against the steering wheel, warm liquid trickling down the flesh of your temple as you groaned, “Oh, fuck.”

Adrenaline pumped in your veins. A full ache pounded in your skull, fingers reaching up to press on the wound with squinting eyes. Letting out a hiss, you felt a minor cut, blood coating the pads of your fingertips. Curling your upper lip in irritation, your eyes flew behind the wheel, looking for whatever had made you stop so abruptly. But then you frowned, nothing being there.

“What the fuck?” You snapped aloud in a harsh whisper, opening your car door.

The beeping alarm rang in your ears, your car system telling you that your door was open. Ignoring the sound, your feet padded onto the dirt road, cold breeze fanning your features. Goosebumps littered across your skin, even though you had on a sweater plus a raincoat, mind still a bit fuzzy from banging your head onto the wheel, “Hello?”

Your voice echoed, but there wasn’t anyone who returned it. Your brows knitted together as you heard rustling in the bushes, but figured it could’ve been you being paranoid—until you heard twigs snap. Eyes rounding in fear, you snapped your head towards the location of the sound, but spotted nothing suspicious. Your lips opened to call out again, but this time, you felt someone attack you from behind.

Being kicked to the ground, your palms scraped against the sandy textured floor as scream left you. Flipping to your back, eyes widening in horror, you saw three tall men dressed in all black. You knew who they were. Skin pale and translucent; blue veins protruding from their limbs that weren’t covered by dark clothing. Eyes fierce and animalistic, pupils blending into a dark red shade that pierced through your soul. Hostility swirled in them, amongst with hanger, showing off their fangs as they hissed downwards at your trembling figure.

The middle one took a step closer, thin lips quirking into an evil smirk. His voice was almost like a dream, authentic and versatile, “Look what we have here. A mortal in our town,” he spoke slowly, making you gulp. You didn’t understand. He licked his lips as he tilted his bald head at your horrified state, “You know the laws, sweetheart. Killing on our turf isn’t against the law. So, scream as much as you want, it excites us.”

You shielded your face as he lunged at you, “Wait—please—!”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you curled into a ball as you awaited for his teeth to snatch your lungs through your chest. Hyperventilating, your body trembled, but it never came. Peeling your eyes open, you heard another snarl, accompanied by a bunch of other ones, making shock rock through you. Blinking quickly, a blur of white shadows began to fight against the three vampires, groans and cries falling from the latter as you sat up onto your bottom. Bottom lip shaking, you scooted back, thinning your eyes to catch the movement before you.

But they were already gone. The bad ones, at least. Finally, after a few seconds, a group emerged from the woods—the ones that fought off the killer vamps that were going to feast on you for dinner. Still panting, you gulped as you studied their features.

There had been three of them.

A woman had caught your attention, seeming middle aged, her skin as light as the moon shining above you. Her features were doll like and sharp, eyes deep and dark, sinking into her flesh like honey. Pupils a bright hazel, her fangs were tucked over her lips, which were pink and airy. Hair black and straight, a white long sleeve rolled down her thin arms, black slacks completing the outfit. She looked..normal.

Beside her, was who you believed to be her partner, his hair an icy white that appeared platinum. His eyes matched the strands on his head, a bright yellow, his flesh as fair as the beautiful woman standing next to him. A white button up was folded into half sleeves on his muscular arms, also wearing black slacks, his hair gelled back into perfection. Your breath was taken away by his beauty, and the gentleness swirling in his hues.

Lastly, there was a girl. She was considerably smaller than the other two—and you wondered if she was their child. She looked about fifteen or so, eyes a bright hazel, which startled you to be honest. They were striking and intimidating. A dark maroon dress tugged at her narrow waist, a black coat falling off her nimble shoulders, long blonde hair cascading into waves down towards her back. Her eyes were round, like the woman, and it appeared she inherited it from her. They were naturally glossy, but she staid in her place, staring at you as the man approached you.

Flinching, you scooted back some more as he held his hand out, raising his brows, “Are you hurt?”

After a few moments of silence, you shook your head, swallowing thickly. He nodded before his lips grew into a gentle smile, urging you to accept his hand.

“We won’t hurt you,” he admitted, his tone sincere, “We don’t kill humans. In fact—we prefer having them as pets.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not, but when his smile grew, you found out he was. Biting your lower lip, you took a chance, and slid your smaller hand into his large one. It was cold, like really cold. It felt like ice against your skin, and your body jerked as he pulled you onto your feet. Furrowing your brows, you pulled your hand back to your side, “I thought vampires were forbidden to leave Vacuo.”

The woman chuckled from the distance between you two, “You are in Vacuo, darling.”

“How? I thought—“

“It’s the border,” the man explained, gesturing to the woods on the right, “You’re barely here, but yes, you’re here. It’s unsafe as of now to return you back to your world, so you must spend the night with us. At least until we figure out where you came from.”

You stared at them in reluctance, “Why should I trust you?”

Offering his hand, he ignored your question, eyes fiery.

“I’m Belen, and this is my family. I assure you that now you’ve obtained this much information about us, it’s safe to say we won’t put any harm in your way. That, and we saved your life just now,” his eyes twinkled, a bit of humor splashed into his tone. Your jaw tightened as he nodded his head at your silence, “It’s your choice. Take a risk and come with us, or spend the night alone in these woods. Up to you.”

Glancing over at your car, you knew that there was no way you’d survive alone in Vacuo. No human every crosses the boundaries of the human world into the vampire realm; and it was bizarre that you did it in accident. Only a fucking idiot like you would do that. You succumbed to the man, nodding slightly, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Alright. I’ll go with you.”

Letting out a wince, you watched with careful eyes as the woman placed a bandaid on your wound. The fire crackled in the background as rain slightly trickled onto the rooftop, hearing her softly laugh. Your fingers dug into the fabric of your jeans as you shifted in your seat, watching her thick lashes flutter as she pulls away from you, “The blood doesn’t bother you?”

She shook her head, sending you a soft smile, before turning around and walking over to one of the wooden doors. Their home was welcoming, making you surprised that it wasn’t all grimey and dark. You expected them to sleep in coffins, like the movies, bats littered across the ceiling as spiders and other bugs infested the caves. But no—this was a cottage. The fire made the inside illuminate into a faint yellow, scent of burning wood wagging up your nose, soothing your nerves.

A brown couch was in the living room, which is where you sat, sinking into the cushions. A few family pictures hung on the walls, above the fireplace as well, and you noticed one picture that had caught your eye. It was the three of them, yes, but a boy was also in it—unlike the other pictures in the frames. His eyes were dark and empty, a tight smile on his plump lips, as the man, Belen, pulled him into a side hug.

“My parents had me grow up on cows’ blood,” she explained, snapping you out of your daze. Taking a seat beside you, she handed you a cup of tea that she heated over the fireplace, “—and my children do the same. It helps us keep in tune with our humane side, I suppose.”

You wondered if they poisoned the tea, but shrugged it off. If they planned to kill you—you were already dead anyways.

Sipping on the warm liquid, it felt amazing as it eased the hoarseness in your dry throat. Your eyes flickered over to you, “I uh, love green tea actually.”

“It’s my favorite,” she replied, drinking from her own.

The atmosphere was cozy. You spotted the younger girl peer over her shoulder at you, from the top of the stairs, before vanishing into her room you assumed. The woman laughed beside you, and you actually returned it this time, much to your surprise, “She’s never met a human before—she’s a bit shy.”

You nodded, “It’s fine. I understand,” you waved it off, raising a brow, “What’s your name?”

“Alana, it’s a family name. My mother was named that as well..and you, dear?”

“Y/N,” you smiled for the first time since you had been there.

Her smile grew, “What a beautiful name. My daughter is named Scarlett, and my son is Elliot,” she added on, “He’s hunting right now. Probably won’t be home at all tonight—you know how teenagers are.”

You laughed again at her words, even though you were only eighteen years old. A yawn left you, making her stand up onto her feet, patting the fur blanket that was laid out onto the couch for you, “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning,” she told you kindly, before approaching the stairs, “Sweet dreams.”

“Thank you,” you told her, and she hummed before going up the steps.

You looked around with your eyes, hoping they didn’t kill you in your sleep. Sinking into the couch, you pulled the warm blanket over you, feeling it melt onto your figure as you sighed happily. It felt like a cloud. Flipping to your side, you tucked your hand beneath your chin, and felt your eyes flutter close, sleep instantly taking over. You must’ve been really exhausted.

Feeling something poke your cheekbone, a small groan left your lips. In a groggy state, your eyes peeled open, brows snapping together at whatever disturbed your sleep. But when they met with a pair of wide ones, staring down at you, feeling whatever the hell the thing was leaning over your figure, a scream scratched your throat.

And then, well, he screamed too.

Jolting into an upright position, knocking the boy onto the ground, he scrambled to his feet before pointing a finger at you, “Mom—why is there a mortal in our house?” He shouted, his chest rising up and down quickly as he caught his breath, narrowing his eyes at your features before plugging his nose, “—and why do they smell like mud and horse shit?”

You let out a gasp at his insulting words, hearing footsteps rumble down the stairs, sending a glare to the red-haired boy that had fallen onto the ground. His hair appeared to be a darkish red, shaven down into a buzz cut, and when he his head turned to the side—you spotted a black widow imprinted into the back of it. Wearing a blazer that was three sizes to big for him, black ripped skinny jeans tightened around his long legs, your chest turned warm at how handsome he actually was.

His eyes were a dark red color, cheekbones beautifully sculpted onto his admirable face. When he towered over you, you realized he was actually very tall, probably reaching around six foot. You didn’t know if he had eyeliner smeared under his eyes, or if they were naturally that dark—but you figured it was the latter, since vampires usually had a more gloomier sense of features. His eyes glued onto yours as you swallowed thickly.

You heard laughter, and glanced to the top of the stairs and spotted the younger girl, Scarlett, you think was her name, giggling with a hand over her mouth. Her blonde hair covered half her face, as it shook due to her movements.

“Elliot, you scared the human!” Alana scolded, who you figured was his mother, who came from behind you.

Elliot.

You remembered her mentioning her son, who had that name, so you put the pieces together and concluded that he was her son. Which was odd, because he didn’t look much like them, his skin considerably more tan compared to their pale complexion. You staid silent as his eyes narrowed into slits down towards you, his gaze sticking to yours, even though his words were directed to his mother, “Where’s father?”

“Trading,” she answered in her soft voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. His eyes still didn’t leave yours,

“She was lost—and we made a promise to not hurt her. Apologize for your outbursts, Elliot.”

His jaw tightened, this time, a more soft look covering his features.

“I’m—sorry.”

This time, he appeared to be more considerate, offering you even a small smile. You didn’t really return it though, still frightened by how he woke you up, hand still on your chest as you tried to regulate your breathing. But nonetheless, you didn’t want to be rude; since they did take you in and have kept up with their promise of keeping you safe. In a small voice, you nodded, “It’s okay.”

He licked his lips before his mother ran a hand over his hair, smiling pleasantly between you two, “Now, let’s let her sleep. You know humans and their sleep,” she joked, and you briefly hummed before looking back at him. He gave you a once-over, something glinting in his eyes, before placing his hand on his mother’s back and following her up the steps.

When you had woken back up, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, checking to see if there had been any battery.

Nope. Of course.

You didn’t understand how you could’ve wondered across the border. There wasn’t any signs that warned you, and it made you wonder, how often did this happen? How many unlucky humans weren’t saved by this family and died at the hands of the real cold blooded killers? The thought had sent icy chills down you spine, biting on your lower lip, as you tucked your phone back into your pocket.

Throwing the fur blanket away from you, your white sneakers, which were now a murky brown, padded against the brown carpet of the cottage as you explored.

There were pots and pans spread out across the table, a metal bucket hung over the fireplace to most likely boil water or liquid in general. Everything was made of either wood or natural supplies, the floor creaking beneath you as you began to organize everything on the surface. Putting the pots and pans on one side in a neat manner, you then pushed all the chairs back beneath the table, and wiped the checkered tablecloth off with a cloth that was slung over the fireplace.

Finding a bowl of fruits, which was odd since you didn’t think vampires ate anything, you took a bite of the glossy apple that shined. Your stomach rumbled with hunger as your teeth sunk it it, but then let out a hacking cough, realizing it was plastic. You heard a chuckle rumble from behind you, “It’s for decoration—vampires don’t eat food.”

Spinning around, your cheeks heated up as you spotted the boy from earlier, Elliot. Placing the apple back onto the bowl, with new teeth marks indented into it, you pressed your lips together stubbornly.

“I’m now aware of that, thank you very much.”

He chuckled again, and stepped into the light. Candles illuminating his sharp features, you noticed he had an apple tattooed onto his cheekbone, a different language on his right temple—appearing in a sort of asian language. An x was imprinted on burn his eyelids, and when he craned his neck, you spotted a small bird being printed in black onto the left of his throat, “Are you hungry?”

You blinked at him, causing him to sigh.

“My mom would kill me if I didn’t feed you, so, c’mon.”

He didn’t give you a chance to speak, grabbing your wrist and leading you out the house. It was still night time, leading you to be confused, “I thought it would be morning by now.”

Leaves crunched beneath you as he guided you onto a dirt path, long trees shadowing over you, as his shoulder rubbed yours, “You don’t know anything about Vacuo, so you?” He looked over at you with a slight smirk, earning a shake of your head as a reply. You heard a stream in the far distance, birds chirping, as he extended his arm and brushed his fingers amongst the trunks of the trees, “It’s always night here. We perish in the sunlight, yada yada yada, it’s a dome that the human government built for us. All this—is projection.”

Your brows furrowed, “So…the stars aren’t real?”

He shook his head, kicking at a pebble.

“Nope, the sky is fake,” his eyes sparkled, “Crazy shit, right?”

A wave of pity washed over you.

“So..you’ve never seen the real sky?”

He shrugged, tone smooth, “Nah—but it doesn’t matter. Guess that’s the con of being a good for nothing blood sucker,” he showed his teeth, fangs being barred, sending you a wink as his voice was humorous. He snatched a leaf off the branch before picking off the green material, “Now, don’t get me wrong when I say this, but how the fuck do you just end up on the wrong side of the world?”

You laughed softly, running hand through your hair, “I was supposed to be going to work—but I saw something in the road, and then ended up here.”

“What’s your work?”

“Journalist,” you replied, “I like to write.”

“A journalist?” He mused, smirking over at you. Your stomach filled with butterflies at the look he sent your way,

“I don’t like journalists. All they leak is gossip, and are part of the reason we have such a bad reputation.”

You flipped your hair, sending him your own smirk, “Well—you do feed on human blood, so it’s kinda already a bad start.”

“Hey,” he sent you a pointed look, “I don’t. My mom makes me drink cows’ blood—which tastes like shit by the way. Don’t recommend it.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Elliot snickered before approaching a tree, before beginning to climb it. Your eyes rounded, “What are you doing?”

“Getting your food,” he responded in a duh tone, before expertly getting to the top of it. You watched with a look of awe as a nest of bananas has grown beneath one of the leaves, him snatching it before falling back down onto his feet, with perfect stance. You stared at him in shock as he handed you it, “Hope you like bananas, human.”

You scoffed, looking down at his hand, “That had to be at least fifty feet.”

He smiled cheekily, “I’m a vampire,” he pushed the fruit into your chest,

“I can do anything I want. Now, eat that gross shit so I can show you something else.”

Finishing off your second banana, you tossed the peel behind you, pausing in your steps as you swallowed the remnants. Your eyes widened when Elliot crouched at the edge of the lake, taking a handful of water, and sipping from it.

It was breathtaking. It shimmered beneath the moonlight, or whatever that thing in the sky was, small trickling sounds filling your ears as it poured over a few rocks. It was surrounded by green grass, rippling in non-existent waves, and was as clear as glass. You could see the bottom, which has pretty shallow, probably about four feet or so. It was pretty big actually, taking up a large portion of the area, large boulders crowding one part of the section. Elliot hopped onto one of them, and patted the one beside him, “Come here. Promise I won’t push you in.”

You rolled your eyes, but did what he said, his hand on your back as you climbed onto it. You couldn’t lie, your stomach twirled at his gesture, biting back a smile before huggjng your knees after getting situated and looking over at him. He was looking out at the water, neck stretched out, “It’s pretty here.”

He picked up a rock from the side, tossing it into the water, “Yeah, I know. That’s why I brought you here.”

You chuckled, “You have a serious attitude problem.”

He snapped his head over to you, his smile turning into a more seductive, coy one; tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Yeah? What you gonna do about it, human?”

Oh yeah. He was definitely flirting with you.

You took the challenge, sticking your nose in the air, “I think I should teach you a lesson.”

He leaned closer to you, so close that his breath fanned your lips, never breaking eye contact from you. His eyes hooded as one of his fingers dipped under your chin, his tone raspy and suggestive, “A silly little human like you? Teaching me a lesson? Hm, I doubt so.”

Your eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, before breaking the space between you. Your lips molded against his, his hand instantly flying to your neck, squeezing it tightly as he took back his control. You moaned against him, hips lifting to get more of yourself onto him, hands flying to his cheeks as your mind swirled with hormones and lust.

In a blur, you were pinned to the ground, the moist mud pairing across your lower back when your sweater rose up. It was his vampire speed. It made you dizzy, with how quickly you had changed positions in a millisecond, but he didn’t give you time to comprehend the sudden shift as h his teeth sunk into your bottom lip, a cry falling from your lips, before he gently sucked the blood from you.

“Fuck,” he growled, grinding his hips into yours, “So fucking sweet.”

He pulled away, a bit of the red substance staining his lips, looking down at you with darker eyes. The redness in his pupils expanded, “You want me to fuck you, human?

It was like you were under his spell. Your core heated up as you nodded, making him smirk, before dipping down to your neck. You didn’t know how he was so controlled over the taste of you blood—if he hadn’t ever had human blood before. Wasn’t it like, addicting?

But then you were dragged out of your thoughts when he pulled your clothes off, starting with your sweater, and in a flur, your top was pulled down to your waist, jeans being discarded beside you. His jacket was still on his shoulders, but unbuttoned, abs glistening as a line of hair dipped beneath his jeans. He unzipped them, before doing the same with his boxers, before bending down and capturing one of your hardened nipples into his mouth.

Your back arched as he twirled his tongue around one of the buds, while pinching the other, making your breath hitch, “Oh, Elliot.”

He chuckled against you, before leaning upwards, tapping the head of his thick cock against your puffy clit. It was red and swollen, “Wanna eat this pussy, but there’s no time,” he panted, shocks of pleasure traveling up your cunt as he rubbed his tip against your slippery pearl,

“So for now—I’ll just fuck you, baby.”

Your lips fell open as he slowly slid inside, the corner of his cock disappearing between your click folds. A loud cry emitted from your bruised up lips, your nerves on fire, as he let out a groan, “Holy shit—does it hurt to be this fucking tight?” He gasped out, planting his hands onto either side of you before snapping his hips against you, pecking your lips, “Lemme hear you, c’mon. No one can hear you out here.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, tits bouncing as he began thrusting at an insane speed, hands flying to his shoulders, “Feels so—oh my god—!”

“God can’t help you out here, sweetheart.”

And then at an inhumane speed, began brutally fucking into your pussy, cock sliding in and out as your juices made impure sounds into the night air. He was so deep, reaching the end of your cervix, making you tremble in his hold as he panted in your ear. His hands moved to your hips as he pulled you onto his cock, making you scream, eyes squeezing shut as his name kept falling from your lips in pathetic chants.

Then, he pulled out, making you frown from the emptiness, “Why—ah!”

He rubbed his fingers quickly over your pearl, which was slick from your own cum, before crossing your eyes and feeling the knot snap in your abdomen. He smiled down at you wickedly as it hit you unexpectedly. You grit your teeth as you felt your ears ring for a moment, panting heavily, before he shoved himself back inside of you without giving you a moment to rest.

Due to the sensitivity, you cringed slightly, hold jerking as his thumb planted onto your clit, “Please, faster,” you begged, “Fuck—you’re so big, holy shit!”

His hand flew to your throat, squeezing it to block your airways. He fucked you without mercy, other hand pinching your clit, as you felt another orgasm begin to build up inside of you. He looked like a fallen angel—brows furrowed in concentration but a big grin plastered on his face, looking like he was enjoying having a mortal fall apart for him.

It was a dream. Well, like a dream. A sheet of sweat covered his chest, making him sparkle in the light, fangs protruding from his teeth as his eyes were entirely red. It turned you on even more, and when you gasped for breath, he groaned, “You’re so hot. All vulnerable for me, letting me do anything to you. Fucking slut.”

“I’m your slut,” you whimpered.

He delivered an extra harsh thrust, making your tummy clench, “Yeah, I know. I know, baby.”

You began to get drunk on his cock, a few mud stains on his cheeks, and probably on yours too; but you didn’t care. As long as he kept drilling into you like this.

Growing close again, he pressed down on your bud, making your thighs shake as you looked up at him with big eyes, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—!”

“Gonna make you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled the promise before dipping his teeth into the jugular of your neck, the pain setting you off.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your high peaked, feeling juices splatter onto the both of you as your throat pulsed, “Cumming!”

It was the strongest orgasm you ever had, hitting you for longer than usual, making your figure fall limp as tears rolled down your cheeks. You let out garbled sounds as you drowned in the pleasure, before it came to a stop, Elliot rocking his head back before letting out an animalastic shout, pulling out before pumping his cum onto your pussy.

You laid there, twitching, watching him with admiration as the blood ran down his chin, dripping onto his chest, as his eyes flashed to white as his climax hit him hard.

When he began to ground himself again, his eyes returned back to regular size, pupils red like before, as his chest sunk in relief. He looked down at you, your chest heaving as you gulped, wincing when you moved your neck, “Ah..shit.”

“My bad,” he muttered, leaning down and swiping his tongue over the wound, and it began to heal itself. You blinked at him in confusion as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, answering your questions in your mind, “My saliva has a healing remedy.”

“Oh.”

He handed you your jeans as you pulled your top back up, “By the way,” he added, sending you a shit eating grin, making you look up at him as you moved to sit up,

“You taste really fucking good, babe.”

When you two had returned back to the house that night, Belen spotted you both with knots in your hair, dirt all over your skin, with pink cheeks and wide eyes. With a mere chuckle, he went back to pushing his glasses up his nose before scribbling down into his notebook once again and sorting papers at the table.

“Get yourself cleaned up, children.”

He knew exactly what you two did.

Well, it had been a week since their family took you in—and you hadn’t really made an effort to leave. You didn’t have family, most of them either being dead or living out of state, and you hated the man you worked for.

What’s wrong with missing for a few more days?

But then days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. You hadn’t even realized how long you’d been away from civilization until Alana mentioned it to you as you both cleaned out the pots, “It’s been two months since you’ve arrived. Don’t you miss anyone out there, dear?”

You shook your head, handing her the pot you rinsed with the water that boiled in the bucket, “I don’t have family—actually. Mom died at a young age so I’ve been in an out of foster care.”

“And your father?”

“Absent.”

She nodded with a look of pity, “Elliot was the same as you,” she brought him up with a knowing smile, knowing about you two.

You weren’t exactly discreet. Multiple times in the week, you two would sneak off in the middle of the night, him fucking the life outta you at the same spot each time by the lake. He knew how to make you feel good, even when you weren’t sure it would, and would feed off of you sometimes during it. But he never went as far as hurting you, so you didn’t see a reason to stop.

Blushing, you stared at her, voice small,

“How so?”

“His original family were the bad kind of vampires,” she explained, “The kind the media knows about. Belen and I were hunting when we heard a baby crying—and found this little thing all naked and shivering from the cold, left abandoned in a pile of leaves. The symbol on the back of his head meant he was part of a cult that did…heinous things to humans.”

Your brows furrowed as you listened on.

“We saved him, like we saved you. We took him in, and raised him as our own. I’ve tried to tell him about his past, but he doesn’t want to hear it—as if he was ashamed.”

“I see,” you gulped, “So—he never killed anyone?”

She shook her head, laughing, “Of course not. He may seem tough, but he’s actually a sweet boy.”

You smiled as she poured you a cup of water, handing it to you, “I think he likes you.”

Your cheeks turned red, raising a brow as you sipped it, “Has he said anything?”

“No,” she shrugged, finishing up the last pot, “But I know my son. Especially when he’s interested in someone. He’s home more often now, and actually smiles. So either he likes you, or he’s gone crazy.”

You laughed at her words, tracing your finger on the rim of the cup, wondering about Elliot. You had grown to like him, a lot actually, but it was a tough situation. He was a vampire. It was forbidden for a human to stay forever in Vacuo; and vice versa. Your smile slipped when your overthinking consumed you.

“I have to back, though,” you muttered, placing the cup onto the counter, “Right?”

Alana looked at you, her face blank and solemn, before nodding stiffly.

“I’m afraid so.”

You didn’t want to hear that.

“Hold on tight, princess.”

You let out a shout as Elliot flew into the air, his feet floating above the ground as it became smaller and smaller.

You had admitted that you always wanted to fly, so Elliot being the gentleman he was, wanting to complete those wishes. Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly as he securely held you, the wind splashing you in the face as you let out a scream of joy, making him chuckle. The stars, real or not, seemed beautiful to you as you passed over the trees, which covered the entirety of the city.

“It’s beautiful,” you shouted, and he held your waist, adjusting you so that your stomach faces the ground. Your eyes rounded as he purred in your ear.

“Trust me, Y/N.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, “Raise your arms.”

You did what he said, and then opened your eyes, letting out laughs of disbelief. You were flying.

He held you by your hips, strong hands digging into your flesh, as you flapped your arms like a bird, “I’m flying,” you cried out, not noticing his eyes burning into your features, dazed smile on his lips as he watched you silently, “Oh my—Look at that!”

He dived down with you, letting your fingertips reach down and drag them across the body of water. It was cold against your flesh, but refreshing, giggling as he swooped back up over the trees once again. He spun around in a circle, letting out a boyish laugh, both of you giggling before he sat on top one of the trees, helping you take a seat on the branches before doing so himself.

Your legs were swung over each side, standing, as he sat beside you, his leg hitting yours as you sighed dreamily, “This is like a dream. God—I would love to be one of you.”

His smile faded, being replaced with a hard look.

“Don’t say that,” he spat.

Your brows furrowed, “What? It’s amazi—“

“Yeah, it’s amazing when it’s a choice, but being forced to live out this life against your will is different,” he threw at you harshly, your heart sinking at his bitter tone, “You don’t have the peace of sleeping. You stay awake—all the time. Forcing to live with your thoughts without a break. You always want to snap the neck of whatever thing has blood pumping inside of it, and are castaways to the real society. So don’t ever say that ever again, Y/N. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your lap.

“I’m sorry.”

After a few moments, he sighed, hand flying to your cheek to make you look up at him. He offered you a soft smile, which was warm and comforting, the one you loved.

“My mother told me you were leaving.”

You nodded sadly, “I have to.”

“I know,” he mumbled, rubbing his thumb on your cheekbone in circles, “I just wish—it could be different. That’s all. You make me feel like…a human.”

His words shocked you, a grin reaching your eyes. He reflected if, chuckling lowly as his eyes gazed down into yours.

“Promise you won’t forget me.”

You placed your hand on top of his, “I could never.”

He delved down and pressed his lips to yours, making you sniffled against him, unknowing of the fact that a tear rolled down your cheek. Elliot pulled away, looking bothered by the fact that you were heartbroken over him; his face tight as he pulled you into his chest, rubbing his thumb on the back of your head, “Don’t cry. I can’t handle it.”

“Turn me,” you whispered, wondering if he heard you. But when his muscles in his chest tensed beneath you—you knew he heard.

His voice was still soft.

“No.”

“Please,” you whimpered, looking up at him. His eyes found yours as your bottom lip shook,

“I can’t live without you. Please. We could—be together forever.”

His eyes burned into yours. He seemed to contemplate the idea, but after a moment, he shook his head. Dammit. “You say that now, but what if in a year you change your mind too late. What if you end up hating me?”

“I could never,” you quickly shot back, holding his face in your hands. “It’s not in me to hate you, Elliot.”

He looked to the side, out at the view, taking a deep breath. Your eyes shined as you watched him with angst, hoping he would do ask you asked. You had decided that your life wouldn’t be the same without him; for he had give you a purpose. Him and his family. You could take care of him, and give him the love he ceased to have.

He licked his lips, then looked back down at you to trace his thumb over your bottom lip, “How about this…”

He sighed again, pulling his mouth to the side.

“Leave for a year. Live your life, date, whatever humans do. Then if you come back—I’ll change you. I’ll do whatever you ask me to, since I am yours.”

You blinked up at him with glossy eyes, “A year? That’s a long time, Elliot.”

“I know.”

“You would turn me if I came back?”

He nodded, “I would.”

“Promise?”

He chuckled, grabbing your pinky, and twisted it with his. You broke out into a smile, “I promise, Y/N.”

You didn’t want to agree to it; but it’s the best it was going to get. Sending him a tight nod, you mumbled an okay, hearing him hum in content before pulling you back into his chest. You could’ve sworn, almost on your life, that you heard a heartbeat.

Had you brought back his humane side?

And so, for the next few days, you spent all your time together. Elliot was memorizing every part of your body, and didn’t seem to have as much patience when it came to fucking you.

It was the night before you were leaving, and you knew that he was covering him being upset by acting dominant. He would avoid your questions asking if he was alright, instead kissing you on the lips, and now was no different.

The others went hunting for the day, leaving you two alone in the cottage. Elliot didn’t waste any time, ripping your shirt from your body—the one his mother had made for you made of rags. It tore easily, cluttering to the floor, before shoving your pants down your legs. His lips crashed against yours, hungry and rough, before slamming you down onto the fur blanket that laid on the floor.

You rested on your elbows, looking down at him with hooded eyes, as he dragged his lips down to your navel. He didn’t break eye contact, your skin tingling from the way he touched you, before he sunk his teeth into the inside of your thigh, “Elliot!”

Back arching off the ground, he hummed, his eyes turning entirely white as he drank from you. It caused a frenzy in your core, pain heading straight to your clit, which throbbed painfully beneath the fabric of your underwear. He gulped before pulling his fangs out, scarlett liquid dripping down your thighs and off his chin, before forcing your thighs apart.

Tearing off your panties, your eyes rounded, before his eyes set on your pussy. It was puffy and swollen, shining with your cum, “Fuck,” he groaned out—before diving in head first. His lips wrapped around your aching clit, making you wail, as he flicked repeatedly at the sensitive nub, “Can’t get over how you taste. Love how your little clit pulses on my tongue.”

You choked on your sob as your fingers grabbed the back of his head, rolling your pussy onto his greedy mouth. He slurped and sucked sloppily, covering your entire mound with his lips, as he thrusted his tongue deep inside of your slick walls. They clamped down on the strong muscle, “I’m already close,” you rasped, stomach clenching, “Slow down—don’t wanna cum yet, Ellie.”

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled before shoving three of his thin fingers into your quivering hole, not giving you time to adjust before slamming them repeatedly into your pussy. He grinned evilly as you cried out his name,

“You’re gonna cum lots of times tonight, baby.”

And then he slapped your clit with his other hand, narrowing his eyes, “Now come. Come fucking hard for me, Y/N.”

When he slapped your clit again, the cool medal of his ring set you off to your first high, mouth falling open as a silent screech escaped your shaking figure. He watched you with intense eyes as you crumbled apart, hot waves of pleasure hitting you constantly, before he spat onto your pearl again—rubbing it with his thumb as he began to overstimulate you, “Hold on—“ You groaned, trying to sit up to stop his movements, “I can’t—wait—“

You tried to run away from his lips, but he held you down, still rapidly thrusting his fingers in and out at his vampire like place. Lifting your entire upper body off the ground, your hands gripped your breasts, eyes squeezing shut, “Again now,” he commanded, his voice gruff,

“Don’t make me wait. I hate waiting.”

“Oh my fucking god—Elliot!”

You screamed. Screamed to the heavens, if there were any. You thrashed your hips as he sucked on your clit, nibbling on the skin, which broke the second knot in your tummy, “I’m—I’m—I’m—“

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you came again, at the expense of his hands, as he hummed while licking you through your orgasm. But then your thighs closed, pushing him away, as you began to heave heavily, looking up to the ceiling.

Your nerves were hyper sensitive. Black dots filling your vision, your ears rang as you felt him rub your thighs, “Come back,” he whispered, pecking your hipbone, “You’re okay. I got you. Just breathe through your nose.”

Looking down at him, his eyes rounded in worry, “Do you want to continue?”

“Please,” you begged, almost too quickly. He smiled.

Taking off his own skinny jeans, they hit the floor before he guided his fat cock onto the top of your clit, making you jolt from your previous orgasms. He snickered, making you slap his shoulder, withdrawing a quiet sorry from him.

Not breaking eye contact, you both gasped in unison when his tip slide into your gushing pussy, due to your climax. His forehead rested against yours as he breathed in your face, “So warm,” he groaned, slowly rolling his hips into yours, “—so…tight. Nothing will ever feel as good as you, ever.”

Your heart bloomed at his confession, chest pressed against his, as his hip bone rutted against your pearl, peeking out from beneath its hood. Your face scrunched up as he picked up his speed, stuttering breaths and skin slapping filling the room. Elliot filled you up entirely, leaving no space for anyone else, as his cock deliciously rubbed against the border of your cervix, “Please…please…Elliot.”

“What?” He cooed, “What is it? What do you want, baby?”

“To cum,” you pleased, with burning eyes and pink cheeks.

You didn’t need to say anything else. His thrust became erratic and desperate to finish the both of you off, wrapping both of your legs around his slim waist. His eyes bored into yours as his fangs popped out, and dipped down to the crook of your neck, stabbing into the flesh. He groaned as you let out muffled sobs, coming undone from the pain, your walls pulsating and spasming around his cock.

“I’m coming, yes!”

Your body locked up as aftershocks ripples through you, Elliot rocking his head back as the red substance was smeared across his lips. Eyes blown and lustful, you pushed him off you, before beginning to ride his cock to another orgasm. His brows rose as you planted your hands onto his chest, bouncing up and down, determined to make you both come at the same time.

But no—he wouldn’t let you control.

He grabbed your hips, before planting his feet onto the ground, and quickly began to hammer his hips into yours. Your eyes bulged as you screamed his name, before leaning down and kissing him, the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue from his lips.

He didn’t relent, going in harder, now chasing his orgasm. Your hand flew to his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, “I have the prettiest girl coming on my dick,” he mumbled against your lips, “Never gonna forget this. Never gonna forget you.”

“Me either,” you promised, “I won’t. I can’t. You’re it for me.”

His teeth sunk into your bottom lip—

You came. And he did too. You didn’t worry about getting pregnant, or anything else in that moment. Just the way his warm cum spurted inside of you, moans and cries fleeing from your bleeding lips as he sucked on the open wound. Your heart hammered in your chest as he cursed loudly,

“I love you so fucking much—fuck!”

Swirling your fingers on the back of his neck as he came down, you two staid there, as he held you. His confession made a smile grow onto your tired face, and in a small whisper, you spoke into the silence.

“I love you too.”

“Here,” Scarlett’s voice was soft, as she handed you her purple flower crown. Your heart tore as you accepted it, before giving her a small—sad smile. Her tone was quiet as her beautiful large eyes blinked up at you, “—I made it for you. So that you don’t forget me.”

Your eyes burned with tears as you took the small girl into your arms, huggjng her tightly as you thanked her in her ear with a whisper. She smelled of cranberries and faint perfume, her small figure slightly shaking in your arms. Pulling away, you wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek, before patting her cheek gently,

“I could never forget a princess like you, Scar.”

She blinked with her glossy eyes, before looking down at the ground to refrain from crying. You have a hug to Belen, telling him how thankful you were that he had saved you, leading him to reply with a noble of course. He patted your shoulder before tipping his chin downward, a tight smile on his porcelain skin, “You have grown to be a daughter to me. Your presence will forever warm my heart, Y/N.”

Nodding stiffly, your face twisted when you fell into Alana’s arms. Crying into her shoulder, she hummed as she held you, her strands rubbing your nose as her scent of cinnamon filled your senses, “Thank you so much,” your voice shook, clinging tighter to her, “I forever owe you. Thank you…for showing me what having a mother felt like.”

Her hand rubbed your back, her voice in your ear.

“Thank you for reminding me what it felt like to be human, Y/N.”

Letting out another sob, you pulled away, and her hands reached to wipe your tears. Her own were shining with moisture, as she took a step back, your wrist being pulled from behind. Elliot lead you out silently as you waved at the three of them goodbye, and when the front door slammed shut, your teeth gritted as it took everything within you to not jump back into their arms.

You spun around to face him, shaking your head quickly before shoving your head into his chest, “Please, not yet. I need you. Please don’t leave me, Elliot.”

His arms wrapped around your figure, his chin digging into the top of your head,

“You’ll come back to me. I know you will,” his voice shook, but it seemed like he did his best to remain calm. You pulled away from him too look him in the eyes, as he held your face in his hands, pressing you’re foreheads together, “Come back to me, Y/N.”

“I will,” you chanted as he picked you up in his arms.

“I will I will I will I will will I will—“

His touch vanished, leaving you cold, as your eyes peeled open.

You were on the side of a highway.

Elliot was gone.

You turned around, looking behind you. There weren’t any trees—just buildings that surrounded you. Beginning to hyperventilate, you let out a shout of his name, “Elliot! Elliot!”

Your hand flew to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a cry.

“I’ll come back,” you whispered, looking up at the sky. Your voice wavered, hoping he could hear you.

“I’ll come back.”

Your eyes shot open, gasping for air as you peeled your eyes open. Your hands were on your steering wheel, looking with wide eyes, as you realized you must’ve fallen asleep on your way back to the office. Mumbling a curse, you stepped a bit more on the gas, furrowing your brows as you felt like you were forgetting something.

And here’s what it was—

Elliot forgot to tell you one thing.

When a human enters Vacuo, they will leave with no memory of whatever occurred within. And he knew that, and didn’t want to isolate you from your life, so he risked losing you because he cared too much.

But he waited there, at your spot by the lake, hoping you would somehow return back to him. That you would remember and come back into his arms.

But he knew he was being silly.

Because you wouldn’t remember. And you would live on.

And he would always be just a castaway.

taglist ☻ @demiesexual @icedcold @lilhonoret @visiondaddy @maddyscherryrollingpaper @oldsouliz @hessafeelsfordayss @rafeswhor @janieisamarauder @letmebeyoureuphoria @billiebossnova @rafeswhore @pcrntal @euphoricfeminine

#elliot x y/n #elliot #elliot imagine #elliot smut #elliot x you #elliot euphoria #Elliot is mean #elliot x fem!reader #elliot x reader #vampire fics

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jeeperso · 2 years ago

Text

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft Edition, Invidia Arc part 3

You hear a loud knocking on the front door of the main hall. "YOO HOO! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!” "NO YOU DON’T!”

“Eddie, get into the maid outfit the tower of flesh had and tell him no one’s home.”

And suddenly, Poom is hiding.

“Hey. He’s having fun being whatever the fuck a chinchilla is.”

“Ominous giggling. The giggling of danger!”

"Can you prove that?” Marshal looks out the window, sees the guard who'd admitted them reduced to a grisly jack-in-the-box. ”Not anymore…"

Jonni spends several seconds feeling around. “S’okay. Fun bits are intact. They’re just felt now.”

"Time to follow the dominos. Stay on the path, no telling what mad toys lay off of it.” “There could be Zoids. Or even pogs.”

Poom: "I'm starting to get the feeling this should have been that domain where parents leave their kids in the woods.”

At this point the sweater becomes angry. "WEAR ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

"I have a humorous toy dagger, and I am not afraid to make squeaky noises with it!”

OOC: Hot pocket formation, proofed vs charmed.

Jonni casts create campfire 187 times.

“That fire is my girlfriend!”

You blast the councilor, which causes her to shift forms into a large humanoid dog with four arms, two smaller human like arms, and two massive pincers. Poom: "Huh, looks my Great Uncle Tendon-Flayer.” Nyx: "Remind me to avoid your family reunions.” As he makes his announcement, marshal's helm is swapped out between frames, resembling instead a bone-hued mask. [insert Jason gif] Poom: "And now Marshal is Cousin Gruntsalot.”

Jonni: “Oh, when New Eddie goes full Anakin, that’s fine. But Jonni wants to kill just one…” Nyx: ”These aren't kids, Jonni. They are disguised demons.” Irost: ”Aren't all kids..?” Nyx: ”Hey, I was a little angel as a kid.” Poom: "I'm half gnoll, so I am literally a little demon."

"Remember kids. Never play with ice.”

“Hey! There were kids present! No using the black speech of Mordor!”

Gorbash: “The cursed words of Carlin the critical? Wait no that was seven words. Maybe he added to the list.”

"Puss bleeding Hell!” Poom: "Yup, just like Gruncle Tendon.”

Jonni: “Your mother gets off to my centerfold in hell!” Gorbash: “Is that an insult or a boast?” Jonni: “Yes!”

Marshal rocks back and forth in his frozen state, manages to move a finger enough to flip it off.

"YOU AREN'T GETTING ANY S’MORES." Gorbash: “WHAT! How Dare! It's on now B----!” The Glaberu holds up a perfectly made s’more, then throws it in a waste paper basket and kicks it away. Gorbash goes over to the trash bin and fishes the S’more out. "Please it'll take more than that to dissuade me. OMNOMNOM!”

"I'll save a spot for Ape-Jonni. Just incase.”

Jonni: “Hey! Who wants to see puppet titties!?!” Poom: "Let me temporarily blind myself first.”

"I can appreciate that. However, my information does not come freely.” Jonni sighs and starts unbuttoning her shirt. "Not that.”

Your former chieftain draws his sword, "Do you remember w hat I said I would do if you ever returned?” Jonni: “I couldn’t hear over your daughter hanging on to you crying that she loved me and not to hurt me.” He growls. “DIE." Jonni: “Plus that mammoth I stole was super noisy.”

He manages to thumb wrestle his way out of your big hand.

"If you seek the Tiger, then you will find him at the top of Candy mountain." "Is this... a BIG rock candy mountain, or a regular?”

Gorbash: “Right watch out for unicorns. they'll still your organs.”

OOC: Everyone is a puppet, save Poom who is a regular house cat and Nyx who is a GI Joe figure.

OOC: Shame. If it was a strangler, it could've spent the session failing to kill Marshal. OOC2: But then he'd look preppy, with a sweater tied around his neck.

Poom: "Aka, Mythos Daycare.” OOC: Mythos Babies, they make nightmares seem tame.

#dungeons & dragons #dnd 5e #quotes with context #ravenloft

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years ago

Text

All I Wanted (Was You) Pt. 2

Part 1

Summery: Reader finally gets to talk to Spencer about the events of their relationship

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, description of an arrest, manipulation, signs of a toxic relationship, JJ slander, slapping, reader isn’t a good person in anyway shape or form, just you wait

Pairing: Criminal!Reader x Eventual Criminal!Spencer

A/N: Hey....it’s been a second...how y’all been? So this has been burning a hole in my google drive for weeks now, and I’m gonna be honest I’ve just been too damn lazy to post it. I truely started my new job, and guess what? I got covid, so that was real fucking fun. Plus I’ve been dealing with some personal shit that has not been entirely good for my mental health, but do not fret! I am doing much better than these past few weeks and weather its because of the iron supplement I’m remembering to take daily, or the fact that because I had covid, means the chances of me getting it again are slim, and I just don’t have it in me to care anymore is up in the air. And I do care. I wear my mask and social distance, but when it comes to me personally.....I couldn’t give a fuck. Anyway here it is, the long awaited part two. There are already four parts I have planned, so yay! Another series! Enjoy!

I’ve decided. I hate this fucking room.

I’ve also decided that I hate Agent Jareau. Or A.J. Or whoever the fuck she was.

I openly glare at her from across the table, since I can’t actively do the things that I want to do to her.

The man sitting next to her introduced himself as Agent Hotchner.

He’s the one that pulled Mathew back. Or Dr. Reid. Fuck.

“Ms. Y/l/n and I have spoken, and she has agreed to answer any and all of your questions. You have her full cooperation. On one condition.”

The annoyed grimace spreading across Jareau’s face slaps a smirk on my own.

“What’s the condition?”

I speak now, staring at my reflection in the mirror before moving eye contact back to Hotchner.

“I want to speak to Mat- Dr. Reid. Alone, with no surveillance, for a half hour.”

The room runs cold.

“No.”

“I will answer anything you ask. But only after my own questions are answered.”

I lean forward onto my elbows, still smirking. “You gotta give a little, to get a little.”

“We can answer any questions you have.”

“That’s not what I want. This is my one condition. You don’t give me this, you aren’t getting shit from me.” I spit, wishing I could grab her collar and throttle her.

“Listen here you little-”

“Stand down, JJ.” Hotchner has his arm outstretched in front of her, keeping her from jumping across the table.

“Yeah, JJ. Stand down.” I purr, and her jaw sets.

A cell phone rings.

Hotchner picks up, breaking eye contact with me for a second while he quietly asks, “Are you sure?”

Someone answers, and he doesn’t respond before ending the call and turning back to me.

“He’ll do it.”

Is it bad my heart jumped?

“What?” Jareau is staring at the side of Hotchner's face, but he keeps eye contact with me.

“You get a half hour. And if anything happens inside that room-”

“I don’t appreciate you threatening my client when she has just agreed to cooperate. Now, will you please uncuff her so she can go to the designated room?”

His face is a stone, barely showing any sign of his thoughts.

But he reaches into his pocket, and pulls out the keys while moving around the table to where I sit.

They fall from my wrists, and I pull the sleeves of the sweater Sheila gave me down to cover the red skin.

“Follow me.” he says, and I stand, free for the first time since this morning.

Running only crosses my mind for a second before I follow him through the hallways, glaring eyes burning into my back.

He opens the door to another small conference room, allowing me and Sheila to enter.

“We’ll send him in once you’re ready.” he says and without another word, he closes the door.

Sheila turns to me. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She takes my hands in hers.

“Positive.”

“Okay. You get a half hour. Use it wisely.” She lets go of my hands.

“That’s the plan.” I shove them into my pockets.

She nods, before opening the door, and leaving.

My heart pounds in my chest.

I wring my hands.

The door closes.

He stands, staring.

“Hi.”

I swallow, anger rippling through my bones.

I storm forward, and I see him hold out his hands to try and stop me, but he doesn’t put up much of a fight.

My open palm meets the skin of his cheek and fire eats at my fingers.

We’re both quiet for a moment before I reach forward, feeling his chest, his sides, his pockets.

I feel a bulk under his shirt beneath his waistband on his back.

“Are you fucking serious?” I pull up his shirt, grabbing the phone from his hip.

He doesn’t meet my eye as I see it’s on a call. With a certain agent's name flashing across the screen.

I throw it to the ground, stomping into it with my heel until I hear it crack before picking it up and opening the door.

“Y/n please..”

I throw it into the room of agents.

I meet the eyes of the person who made the initial call.

“You’re fucking lucky the deals still on, Jennifer. Or those people's deaths would be on your hands. So thank your lucky stars that I want to prove my innocence because if I didn’t give a fuck, you would have a lot to fucking explain right now.”

I slam the door shut, locking it behind me.

I stand, heaving, staring at the swirls in the wood of the door.

I wait until my breathing is less erratic to speak.

“You must think I’m fucking stupid.” My voice is oddly calm for the anger burning through my veins.

“I don’t. I’ve never thought that.” He moves to stand a few feet behind me. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

I turn then, moving into his face.

“How the hell was it supposed to happen!?”

I hear footsteps approach me as I stir the creamer into my coffee.

Hands are on my waist, and I barely have time to set my spoon down before he’s turning me around, and capturing me in a bone crushing hug.

I laugh nervously, hugging him back. “Good morning to you too.”

He pushes me back a little bit, and his eyes are red rimmed and frantic.

“Hey,” I cup his face, running my thumb over the apple of his cheek. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

Different scenarios run through my mind, all of them terrible.

None of them are what he actually says.

“If I asked you to run away with me, would you?”

My thumb stops. “What?”

His eyes dart back up to mine, and the sheer glow of urgency shining in his pupils makes my heart rate pick up.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” My hand starts to fall from his face, but his hands come up to grip my wrists.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Matty, just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can fix it, I can fix this.”

His eyes dart to the clock on the oven behind me, and his breathing picks up. “Shit.”

He licks his lips. “I-”

My front door slams open.

I jump back, hitting my coffee cup on the counter, spilling the contents.

Officers spill in and my stomach drops to my feet.

“Y/n y/l/n?” An officer comes forward, gun lowered, but finger still on the trigger.

I slowly raise my hands. “Yes? What’s going on? Matty, what’s happening?”

His grip on my arm is like steel, but officers come and pry him away from me, twisting my arm behind my back. His eyes dart between me and the people swarming.

“No! Please, this isn’t-, stop!” He’s shouting, looking around at the officers pool into my house.

I am acutely aware of the gun aimed at my chest.

My arms are pulled behind tight behind me, and it’s instinct to fight.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!”

“Y/n y/l/n you are under arrest for-”

I don’t hear the rest. All I hear is Matty’s voice, his fight to remove himself from the officer who was trying to cuff him.

No.

“Let him go! He didn’t do anything!”

He looks annoyed and frightened and tired all at once.

I’m being pulled away from the scene towards my front door.

“No! No Mathew! Don’t touch him!”

My wrists pull against the handcuffs, burning into my skin.

“Stop! My name is Dr. Spencer Reid! I’m an FBI agent with the behavioral analysis unit.”

I stop.

The officer stops.

The world stops.

“My badge is in my back pocket. I’m going to reach for it now.” He reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a leather badge, opening it to show the officers.

One nods, and they back off of him, letting go of his arms.

“What?” It’s broken and barely a whisper.

His eyes meet mine, and tears are freely rolling down my cheeks, and I blink to try and get rid of them, but it doesn’t work.

“You- You’re a-” I can’t breath. “What?”

My chest hurts.

“Y/n-”

I’m out the door.

The world is in slow motion.

Black coats and red and blue lights are everywhere.

I’m in the back of a police car.

He’s in the yard.

Staring.

“It wasn’t even supposed to. I got the call 5 minutes before they came. I didn’t have any time, I couldn’t do anything.”

“You couldn’t do anything?” I look at him in disbelief.

“You could have, I don’t know, not have lied to me?”

“It’s not that simple.”

His cheek is red.

I fight back the urge to reach forward and hold it against my palm.

We didn’t move, and I realize that this was not the best idea.

I move past him, going to stand by the window.

I never realized how high up we were.

He turns with me, watching me as I go.

“Who are you?”

I hear him shift. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m an agent with the Behavioral analysis unit.”

“Doctor? What are you a doctor of?”

A doctor? A friggin doctor?

“I have 3 BA’s and PhDs in mathematics, chemistry and engineering.”

I can’t help but let my mouth fall open.

I see a small smile twitch on his face. “I also have an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

I shut my mouth and scoff. “That just proves that I know absolutely nothing about you.”

I start to pace, wanting to scream from the silence.

I go back and forth inside my head, wondering which question I should ask next. So many bubbled inside my head, it made my brain hurt.

“Why did you go undercover?” is what I settle on.

“We wanted proof that you had part in the murders. We couldn’t get that without inside information. I volunteered because from watching you, I know you’d take pity on me. It’d be believable that I didn’t know what I was doing. You wouldn’t feel intimidated by me.”

His hands are on my shoulders now, stopping back in front of the window.

He’s close enough now that I can feel his body heat against my back.

I hated that he was right.

“You get defensive around women you consider a threat, and you don’t trust men bigger than you. I was a good middle.”

I really wish he would talk louder. It’d make me feel like he didn’t care. The soft tone he was using was sending comforting signals down my spine.

I don’t want to be comfortable.

I want to be angry.

“So it was all for your case then? Everything you told me, everything we did, all those promises was a lie?”

I take a chance, and turn to face him.

I wish I could stop crying.

“Was anything you told me true?”

“Yes!” His hands tighten around my shoulders, startling me. Realization flashes over his eyes and his hands hesitantly remove themselves from me.

He takes a breath. “At first, work was all it was. I was just supposed to observe you, your behavior and report back to my team. But after a few weeks, something changed. You were fragile, and compassionate. When I looked at you, I didn’t see a cold-blooded killer, or a sociopathic dominate. I saw you. I saw the way you cared for people, how you stood up for your clients, and I couldn’t help myself. I feel in love with you.”

His hands are back on me, now resting just above my elbows.

“I love you. Everything I told you about us and what I wanted to do, that’s the truth.”

I wipe my tears away with my fingertips.

“You asked me this morning, before they took me away, if I wanted to run away with you. Do you still mean it, or was that just a ruse?” I worded the question carefully.

“I mean it.”

I sigh, finally looking up into his eyes. “You don’t think I had anything to do with those murders, do you?”

He shakes his head.

I set my jaw. “I want to hear you say it. It’s the least you owe me.”

He swallows. “No. I don’t think you do. I never did.”

My fingers play with the fabric of his shirt. “Spencer suits you.”

He smiles softly. “Thank you.”

“What are you going to tell your team?”

“Nothing. I can’t. And even if I could I wouldn’t want to.”

“Why? I would think you’d want to tell them everything.”

“Usually I do. But they don’t see you like I do. It’s just better if they don’t know. For everyone.”

I can’t help it.

I lean my head against his chest, and let his arms wrap around me.

We stand like that for what seems like years before I feel wetness on my hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

I just hold him tighter.

I know that he’s talking about the present situation. But I can’t help but agree for an entirely different reason.

If he hadn’t been the one to come in that day, we wouldn’t be here.

He wouldn’t feel guilty.

I wouldn’t be licking my wounds, going over every conversation we’ve ever had, trying to figure out what’s true and what’s not.

I’d be sitting in a jail cell, wondering where I went wrong, and he’d be helping his team, with no personal connection to me.

I’d be alone.

I hug him tighter, closing my eyes wishing I could be anywhere else with him.

My pocket feels heavy.

There’s a damp spot on his shirt when I pull away.

“I’m bad for you, Spencer.” My voice breaks.

“Is it bad that I don’t care?”

“You should care. I’m not a good person.”

He places his hands on either side of my face, swiping away me tears with his thumbs.

He doesn’t respond.

He just leans down and kisses me.

Kisses me like it’s the last time he’s able to.

Which may very well be the case.

There’s a knock on the door and he breaks, still keeping his hands on my face.

Another knock.

He drops his hands, sighing, before walking over to the door.

His hand hesitates over the knob.

Another knock.

He unlocks it, and opens it.

Agent Hotchner stands there, stone faced and slightly angry.

Spencer keeps eye contact with me, until Hotchner speaks.

“Reid.”

He looks down, and then turns and walks away.

Sheila walks in after they leave, closing the door once more behind her.

“How did it go?”

I shove my hands into my pockets. “I just want this to be over.”

She walks over, pulling me into a hug I don’t reciprocate.

“It’s about to be.”

I remove my hand from my pocket, and set the recorder on the table.

Permanent Tag List: @criminalcowboy @pinkdiamond1016 @eternityofaxiom @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @marvels-gurl @theamuz @write-from-the-heart @sungieeeeeee @mjloveskids666 @chococerealmilk @itzsoff @gia-kerks @doctorspencereid @imsuperawkward @andreasworlsboring101 @itsmoony @cielo1984 @heistmaster69 @nevvvv @theseuscmander @complementaryvacuum @waywardswain @lindaze @urie-bowie-mercury @spencerreidsimptime @holding-on-to-my-youth @rainsong01 @ghostofmgg

All I Wanted Tag List: @chill-sushi @notebookgirl30 @swiftingday @tj-drinks-tea @haylaansmi

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid x criminal!reader #criminal!Spencer reid #criminal au #mob au #criminal minds #criminal minds series #All I Wanted (Was You)

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ofstarsandfireflies · 4 years ago

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So, you guys remember how 50 First dates was Tony losing his memory? That’s because I wanted this movie to be about Stephen losing his!

Tony remembered that night.

He remembered how it had ended with them in the hospital, he being the first to wake up and finding his husband still hadn’t come out of his coma.

He remembered waiting for Stephen to wake up, and how his hands had needed surgery after excessive surgery.

And he remembered, when Stephen had finally opened his eyes, how Stephen had looked at him.

Like he was a stranger.

Guess he had to be the one to remember for the both of them now.

Stephen didn’t buy he was married to Tony Stark, and not because he was a billionaire, but because Stephen wasn’t into men.

He was engaged to Christine for a reason.

So, side stepping that bombshell, Tony told him how they’d met during a battle when Stephen had saved Tony’s bacon with his wizard powers.

And Stephen just stared at him.

He had powers? Like magic powers? When had that happened?

And Tony felt like an idiot when he had to remind Stephen that he’d quit being a Doctor when one of the patients he’d saved showed him he could be saving far more lives.

Stephen shook his head, trying to wrap his head around all of this.

He wasn’t a Doctor anymore? But he loved his profession, had spent years of his youth to become the best.

But now he was a wizard married to Tony Stark?

It was all too much, and coupled with what his hands had become, Stephen yelled at Tony to get out.

So Tony did, knowing Stephen needed some time.

But the next day when he went to see him, Tony found he had other visitors.

His parents.

Tony glared at Stephen’s father as he and his wife tried to persuade Stephen to come live with them and talker over Tony when he told them that the best thing for Stephen to regain his memory was to come home with him.

But Stephen didn’t want to.

He didn’t know Tony Stark and just seeing him made him so confused about the person he’d apparently become.

Stephen wasn’t that man anymore. Whoever he had been was gone, and the best thing was to go back to the life he remembered.

Tony couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t lose him to his asshole parents, so the next day as Stephen was being discharged, Tony sprinted to his room with the proof he was sure would convince Stephen to come home with him.

After scouring everything he had, he’d come up with a voicemail, Stephen listening as his own voice talked about how he couldn’t focus on an ancient manuscript because every word just morphed into Tony’s name, which seemed to be its purpose.

Stephen’s parents weren’t happy when their son decided to go with Tony instead of them, but they told him to call them if he needed them at all and let him go.

The first night could have been much better.

Tony had invited Wong, Rhodey and Pepper to see him for a quiet get together but word had gotten out and every Avenger and their plus 1 filled their house, Stephen getting the shock of his life when he walked in and the first thing to come flying at him was a red cloak overjoyed to see him and floating by itself.

Stephen locked himself in the bedroom after that, Tony having to apologise to everyone and bring the welcome home party he hadn’t meant to happen to an early close.

He just kept screwing up.

He left the video of their wedding out as proof for Stephen to watch, Stephen ran out of the house and got lost, making Tony sick with worry

He tried massaging Stephen’s shoulders when he became overwhelmed by the years he had lost, making Stephen snap at him that he didn’t like to be touched there when Tony knew he loved it.

He tried to get Stephen into practicing his magic again, resulting in them yelling at one another because Tony was just trying to help him.

But the absolute breaking point was when Stephen’s old friends, and especially his ex fiancé, Christine, came back into their lives.

And Stephen remembered them.

He could remember them, but not Tony.

He could remember doing things Tony would never have dreamt Stephen of doing.

And he could remember his feelings for Christine, deciding he’d rather much flirt with her than even look at his husband.

And it hurt.

It hurt when Stephen started dressing different, wearing far more expensive clothes that Tony knows his Stephen wouldn’t wear on the daily.

It hurt when he started acting different, thinking he was still the high and mighty surgeon he’d been before he and Tony had even met.

It even hurt when Stephen dyed his hair black completely to erase the white strands at the sides Tony loved to run his fingers through and erasing Stephen’s promise to keep them because Tony loved them so much.

And how, despite being married to him, never once acknowledging their marriage or trying to let Tony back in to his life.

No, all his attention was on Christine.

He couldn’t remember how or why they had broken up, and Christine didn’t have any answers for him either, just letting him know that Stephen had been the one to end it.

Which was weird because he and Christine has been perfect for each other.

He’d proposed to her and then a few weeks before the wedding he’d just ended it?

Christine didn’t want to rehash old memories, but when Stephen kissed her goodbye and it went on for a little too long, she didn’t pull away either.

Tony has one last trick up his sleeve though. He’s not about to give up his husband that easily.

So, feeling ridiculous but confident, Tony asks his husband out on a date.

And little things that Stephen used to do around him start to poke their way through.

Like when Stephen’s hands are cold and he holds them out to Tony to warm them for him.

Or when Stephen winks at him when they clink their glasses together.

It’s small details that are engrained into Tony’s mind, details that tell him the man he fell in love with and married is still in there somewhere fighting to be heard.

But when Tony tells him he loves him, Stephen doesn’t say it back.

Tony wants to hold on to the relationship, on to Stephen, but when he finds out about his husband throwing himself at Christine, he knows they have to start being realistic.

No matter how much Tony wants Stephen’s memory to come back, no matter how much he wants to go back to how things used to be, the truth of the matter is they aren’t.

They won’t.

All they are, is miserable.

So Tony does what Stephen wants him to do.

He signs the divorce papers.

The ones with Stephen’s signature already on them.

He packs Stephen’s things up for him, and loads them into the car waiting outside.

And just like that, Stephen is gone from his life.

He loses himself in work so he doesn’t have to think about how empty his life is now, he helps out with everything he can in the hopes that when he does eventually crash and fall asleep he won’t dream of Stephen’s face.

Nothing helps though.

Not until a year or so later when he comes home to find Stephen sitting on his porch, eyes red and body hunched in on itself to appear smaller.

And once Tony sits down beside him, Stephen demands the truth.

He wants to know why he stopped talking to his parents in the first place. And while Tony tries to find the right words, Stephen asks him another question.

Did it have anything to do with his sexuality.

And Tony was ready to fly into rage.

They hated it when Stephen realised who he truly was, how he truly felt about himself, and when he ended the engagement with Christine it just added fuel to the slur fire, making Stephen walk out on the people he’d thought would accept him with an offer to learn magic instead of working in the same profession as his father.

They wanted to control everything about him, but Stephen wouldn’t let them and had cut all ties with them as he built the life he wanted to live on his own terms.

And when they had come back into his life years later because of the accident, Tony didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth because Stephen had a second chance to be with his family again, something Tony would never have.

Even if they were assholes back then, they’d obviously wanted Stephen back in their lives.

And Tony couldn’t take that away from him.

Stephen smiled at him, Tony’s eyes catching on the grey hairs which hadn’t been dyed over again.

He was back to square one with his magic, having to relearn everything but was making incredible progress, surprised what his hands remembered.

And he was single.

Which was good, because Tony wasn’t seeing anyone either, and had the night off.

Stephen might not remember the years they’d had together, but that didn’t mean they could make new memories.

Quotes

“I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness, and to have the patience that love demands. To speak when words are needed and to share thebsilce when they’re not. To agree to disagree on red velvet cake. And to live within the warmth of your heart and always call it home.”

“Wow, you set the bar kind of high. Did you write your vows on a menu?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I vow to fiercely love you in all your forms, now and forever. I promise to never forget that this is a once-in-a-lifetime love. And to always knownon the deepest part of my soul that no matter what challenges might carry us apart, that we’ll always find the way back to each other.”

The vows they took.

“It was like she was some sweater-set wearing, mojito-drinking sorority girl.”

“Like a Stepford wife?”

“Yeah, basically. She was even flirting with Jeremy right in front of me.”

“Ex-fiancé Jeremy?”

“Oh no, no, no. In her mind, it’s current fiancé Jeremy. Which was why it was probably pretty annoying to have her stranger husband cock-block her all night.”

Tony seeing the new...old...Stephen.

“Can you just turn down the music, please?”

“I swear you used to listen to it so much louder than this. I never could understand how you would be able to focus-“

“I have a clinically bad, goddamn headache! Please turn down the music!”

“I’m trying to help you! But I am not your punching bag. We don’t speak to each other like this. This is hard for me too, Paige.”

Tony and Stephen fighting.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know. That’s a really good question, because I have been driving myself insane, making a complete ass of myself! Literally trying everything possible to try to save what we have. And you’ve been throwing yourself at Jeremy.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair? I see the way you look at him. I know...because you used to look at me that way.”

Tony realising he’s lost Stephen.

Say We’re Still Okay

With Stephen’s memory of him and their life together wiped after the accident, Tony has to make his husband fall in love with him all over again.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

#ironstrange #strangeiron #osaf’s movie night

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

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The trial begins; Roger Taylor x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Well it’s been a LOOOOOONG time since I did a Rock Angel update but I finally got the time to do it and finally finish the DARKEST chapter of the Rock Angel’s life. So everything from here on out will be either PURE FLUFF OR PURE ANGST. Now I did my best to research actual court trial procedures plus using my brief knowledge of the justice system from a couple classes I took back in college but if there’s anything I got wrong and you’re actually studying court system/law enforcement PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLLLEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSE LET. ME. KNOW.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

@queen-paladin

@starswin

@isabella-bby

@5sos-wdw

@bohemiansweede

@onebigfangirlworld

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@labessieisallama

___________________________________________________________

Six months of physical rehab, a year of therapy, and 2 surgeries later, I was finally able to get back to some normalcy. Of course the nightmares were frequent every night and of course the kids, especially Kelly, suffered a great deal of it as well.

During my rehabilitation in physical therapy, I had done a court case against James Woods for unprofessional hiring and neglect of care for his client’s safety and managed to sue his ass for over $275,000. Not only that but Hollywood Records fired his arse and once his name became public, no record company wanted to do business with him ever again.

But of course the main trail against Steve was still to come. Due to the restrictions of his uncle no longer able to help him out anymore, Steve’s bail money was set for $75,000. And since no one could afford to bail him out, Steve remained in prison until the trial date set for March 19th.

I was currently sitting on a tire swing in the barn at mom’s and Misha’s place. Since the news were running my story everywhere, Jack thought it best to keep us and the kids away from the city press so we went to his parent’s farm to hide away from the stress. The sky was cloudy and it was slightly chilly out today but I barely acknowledged it due to my nerves as the trial date was drawing near. I soon felt a jacket come around my shoulders and a soft voice said.

“Reminds me of when you rain out during that rainstorm when Prenter revealed your secret to us.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you didn’t mention that arsehole’s name right now dad.”

“You’re right I’m sorry. But hey be thankful this time you’re in a barn and not out in the pouring rain. After that day you got sick for 4 days.”

“Yeah. And you and Deacy were there to take care of me the entire time. Hell you skipped an entire rehearsal to take care of me.”

“You’re my daughter (n/n). I’ll always be there to take care of you. Even when you don’t want me to.” He said as he leaned up against the tire swing and swayed us from side to side.

Since being released from the hospital, while Deacy went home to tell Ronnie and the rest of the kids I was fine, and Brian had to go back for his solo tour, Roger elected to stay with me and the rest of the family to help take care of us.

He called Dominque and his side chic of his decision to stay with me till the trail was over and the two women accepted his decision (which was a shocker on Debbie’s part. I knew Dominque understood).

“What’s going on in that head of yours lovey?” he asked me. He stopped the swaying and came in front of me, his hands holding onto the rope.

“I’m terrified dad.” I admitted. “With the court date—I know I’m going to have to face him and it—fucking terrifies me. You know he’s gonna be looking at me the entire time. But I can’t just abandon the trial, otherwise he’ll walk free with hardly a sentence.” He sighed deeply.

“I know this isn’t easy for you. Hell if it were up to me, I would’ve never allowed it to come this far. I’m your father and I failed to protect you.”

“But you didn’t know dad. In truth it’s really my fault. I should’ve spoken up about this to you and the guys before it escalated it the way it did.”

“Hold it right there. Don’t go blaming yourself now (Y/n). This was in no way your fault.”

“Then it shouldn’t be yours.” He nodded. “I just……what if I don’t have the strength to stay in the same room as him? Or what if the law gives him a slap on the wrist like they’ve done before?” Roger came around and wrapped an arm around my collar bone, his chin resting on my head as his other hand rubbed my left arm up and down.

“Because unlike before where they couldn’t prove he did those things, the news has proof of his attempted murder of you. Your lawyers have pulled up all the evidence of the additional charges that you and Jack want to charge him with, he can’t win this time. Your prosecutors won’t allow that to happen.”

“I just wish Freddie was here to help me with this.”

“So do I love. So do I. But do you know what he’d tell you right now?” I looked up at him and he looked right at me. “He’d tell you. ‘Buck up darling. You go to that courtroom, look that fucker in the eye. And show him he didn’t win. That he can’t win. For while he may be the Big Bad Wolf, you are the Lioness Queen.’”

Dad hugged me and I placed my hand on his arm that was still wrapped across my collar bone and leaned my head against his chest.

*March 19th, 1994. One hour till court hearing*

Back in New York City; Dad, Jack, and myself had just arrived at the New York airport. Waiting for us was my lawyer Mr. Barnes and the rest of the Prosecuting team. And of course the media wanted a piece of me before the court hearing. So Jack and Roger were sandwiching me out of the eyes of the media, while my lawyers were diverting the cameras away from me till we got to the car.

“Mrs. Kline do you have anything to say on behalf of this case!”

“Do you believe Steve Harrison should be given the death penalty?”

“Did you engage any intimate relationships with Mr. Harrison?”

“My client has no comments at this time!” Mr. Barnes stated firmly to the press as Jack quickly guided me inside the car. Roger came in after him followed by Mr. Barnes and the others.

The driver immediately headed for the courthouse and Mr. Barnes told me.

“Alright so Mrs. Kline. Just to review you are still willingly to make your testimony on the stand, correct?”

“Correct.”

“Now I know you’ve been through a lot and his DA team will try to push your buttons but I must strictly advise you to keep your composure and your temper because if you bat an eye once or raise your voice for any reason, the DA will use that to their advantage.”

“I’ll do my best. Truthfully, I just want this whole mess over with so that I never have to see him again.” Jack took my hand in both of his giving it a comforting squeeze, while dad rubbed my shoulder.

“Understood ma’am.” The rest of the drive was pretty silent until we arrived at the courthouse.

As we entered inside not only were their lawyers, security guards, and various other people there for other trials, the rest of the NYC press was also there.

“THERE SHE IS!!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!” A female reporter called out. Once again we were horded by a swarm of cameras and microphones/tape recorders being shoved in our faces.

“My client refuses to speak or make any comments at this time! Now all of you please move back! Can we get security over here!” soon enough police and security made their way through the crowd and tried to back off the vultures. But New York press people are as tough as they come, when they want something they’ll do anything to get it.

They proved themselves strong and determined to get a word out of me, but I just held my shades over my eyes and kept my head down to avoid any cameras getting a picture of my face. Finally after what felt like forever, we arrived at the room where my trial was being held.

Already the room was packed with people, the media that was allowed to document this case had their cameras set up and their recorders ready to record what they needed.

My attorneys guided me towards the desk where we would be sitting at while Jack and my dad took their seats in the crowd just two rows behind us. I sat down inbetween Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson, the leading Prosecutor and we all waited for the moment of truth for Steve to arrive.

About 20min. later, the DA team came in and walking in between a very large fat man and a thinner older man with white hair was Steve Harrison. In chains and in that infamous orange jumpsuit.

When his eyes looked directly at me, I once again saw that empty look in his eyes. There was just nothing there in those piercing brown eyes of his. But spreading across his face was a smug grin. It was faint but I could see it clear as day as he kept staring me down.

“Don’t look at him. He’s trying to provoke you.” Mr. Wilson, the Head Prosecutor whispered to me. “Just look at the Judge and block him out.” As the courtroom continued to fill in with people as well as the 12 jurors, I felt my heart beating faster and my palms grew sweater by the second.

“He’s still looking over at me, I can feel it.”

“Again don’t let him get under your skin. I’m told you’re called Mama Lioness for a reason, now let me see that.” Mr. Wilson whispered to me again. I took a deep breath and recomposed myself. “Atta girl.” He encouraged me. As 9o’clock struck, the bailiff said.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Mayweather.” We all stood up and soon coming in was a man around his 50’s, maybe even 60’s, wearing prescription glasses which emphasized his blue eyes. He was a tall, lean man standing well over 6ft tall.

“You may now be seated.” He said with a soft but commanding tone as he took his seat at the podium. We all sat down and he opened the files. “The charges against the defendant Steve Harrison include attempted 1st degree murder, aggravated stalking, and 1st degree kidnapping. How does the defendant plea?”

“Not guilty your honor.” Steve’s obese lawyer proclaimed. Of course he’d plead not guilty.

“Very well. We shall began with the opening statements from each side. Prosecution, you have the floor.”

“Thank you your honor.” Mr. Barnes stated as he stood up. He paced around the front of the courtroom and made his opening statement, “Ladies and gentlemen of the court; Obsession is a dangerous thing. We all feel it. Whether it’s for the next best product, or for someone we want in our lives. And my client has been a victim of one man’s obsession for more than a year and a half. The defendant Steve Harrison not only put her through a living hell but also her entire family. Harassing, assaulting and even kidnapping my client’s eldest child. All for the sake of a delusion he had in his mind. But he had the conscious to know what he was doing was wrong. Mr. Harrison plotted, articulated and chose his methods on how to harm my client and her family and last June he almost achieved his goal when he put those two bullets in her before a live audience.”

“Thank you Mr. Barnes.” Judge Mayweather spoke. Mr. Barnes came and sat down beside me as the judge continued, “Defense council, you may give your opening statement.” Steve’s lawyer stood up and stood before the court.

“Abuse, fear, and control. My client has dealt with these issues his entire life. His uncle manipulated him into pleasing his every demand for he was the only father-figure he had in his life. My client wanted to do everything to please his uncle’s every demand. But it was not also just his uncle, it was also the so called ‘Rock Angel’ that had seduced him into thinking she actually cared for him.”

Excuse me?! I almost wanted to raise my voice and call Steve’s lawyer out for his accusations but one stern look from Mr. Wilson told me to keep my mouth shut, less I risk making myself look bad before the jury and call this a mistrial.

“Not only that but also the threat’s from the Angel’s husband also caused my client great fear and anxiety. He felt like he needed to defend himself so as we begin this trial I ask you, the jurors to see that it was my client who was forced into committing these acts as a means of protection. Not out of his own desire, but for his own safety. Thank you.” He bowed his head before taking his seat.

“Right then. We shall now begin with the 1st charge of attempted murder. Prosecutor Wilson, do you have your first witness?”

“We do your honor. Prosecution calls Jack Kline to the stand.” Mr. Barnes stated. Jack stood up from the audience and proceeded towards the stand. Once he was there, Mr. Wilson held the Holy Bible and held it out to Jack, who then placed his right hand on top of it while raising his left hand in the air. “Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

“I do.” Jack replied before taking his seat at the stand. It was then Mr. Barnes came up and proceeded with the direct examination.

“Mr. Kline can you tell us what happened prior to the concert shooting last June?”

“My wife (Y/n) was finishing up the last leg of her tour. On March 4th, 1992 we received a letter from Steve Harrison.”

“And what did the letter say?”

“It said a lot of things. About her about me but what really caught our eyes was he wrote and I quote. ‘I’ve had enough of this bullshit. If I can’t have you, no one can. So you better perform with one eye on the audience and one eye on the shadows. I’m going to kill you, you fucking bitch’.”

“And according to you and your cousin Jensen, who was acting as her head security. He tried to harm her, is that true?” Mr. Barnes asked.

“Yes. At her show in Atlanta he snuck in through the screen room and tried to kidnap her.” Mr. Barnes nodded and said to the jury.

“After his arrest in Atlanta, police reports said they found zip-ties, a bottle of chloroform and a 6in steel blade hunting knife. He was detained for only 8 weeks when his bail was made by an anonymous payer.” He turned back to Jack. “What happened the day of the concert at Madison Square Garden?”

At that point I saw Jack tense up. He shifted uncomfortably before he said.

“My wife was up on stage performing her favorite Queen song, which she made a cover of per Freddie’s request, and just before she ended the song. Steve, in police uniform, came up behind my wife and shot her in the back. As she lay there on the floor he shot her again in the stomach. Then I—” he trailed off as he glared towards Steve who looked at him blankly.

His eyes were just soulless as they stared up at Jack. While Jack’s eyes were full of hatred.

“I then watched him take her wedding ring right off her finger before smirking at me. Like he was proud that he took my wife’s life and the symbol of her being my wife, my equal.”

“Thank you, nothing further your honor.” Mr. Barnes walked back to his seat. Now it was Steve’s lawyer’s time to cross examine my husband’s statement.

“You said that Steve wrote you a letter. Directed to both you and your wife is that correct?”

“Yes. Yes he did.”

“Said some crude stuff about you and your wife, correct?”

“Yes. Called her some stuff I’d really rather not stay and do things that no other man should do to her.”

“Objection!” Mr. Barnes exclaimed.

“Overruled.” Judge Mayweather said.

“Ladies and gentlemen I have here in my hand a copy of the letter written by my client. It is a hefty one I give you that but let me direct your attention to page 3, 4th paragraph. My client has written in detail. ‘On Halloween night of 1992, your husband physically beat me and then with no reason at all, sicked your dogs on me. I had to get 25 stitches on my leg and 30 on my right arm.’ Did you order your dogs to attack my client?”

“Only because he broke into my house after he assaulted me first!”

“Ladies and gentlemen I also have here in my hands the police report of that night. Let the record show that my client in no shape or form, physically break into the Rock Angel’s home . The door was wide open, there were no security cameras. So who’s to say that the dogs didn’t attack my client outside of the house?” I looked to the jury and some of them were actually believing what the Defense was saying. “Now Mr. Kline you do realize that dog attacks are a serious offense. Especially according to California law, right?”

“Objection your honor! Steve Harrison still entered the premise illegally by accounts to his restraining order!” Mr. Wilson stated as he stood up.

“That is true. Defense counselor best you alternate your question on that remark.” Take that you son of a bitch. Steve’s lawyer turned back to Jack and he said.

“But you still confirm that you allowed your dogs to attack my client?”

“Yes. Because your client was about to attack my 6 year old daughter and 2 year old twin sons.”

“Nothing further your honor.” Steve’s lawyer said. Jack was then allowed to go back to sit beside Roger.

The court continued on and after briefing for a half hour recess, the trial continued and finally I was allowed to take the stand. I swore under oath and my lawyer questioned me.

“Now Mrs. Kline what can you tell us about Steve Harrison when your first met him? Did you at all have anything to do with hiring him?”

“No. His uncle hired him as a favor for his sister, to ensure that Steve finally got himself a job.” I took a pause there thinking back to the day I first met Steve. “At first he seemed like a nice guy. He seemed to know what he was doing so it wasn’t like he was unqualified. He got me to my appointments on time, kept my schedule in check. And remained professional for the first year and a half of being hired.”

“Now you said he remained professional after a year and a half. Care to elaborate on what changed between you two?”

“It was 2 months after the Freddie Mercury tribute concert, the start of summer 1992. I was recording my last album ‘Fly High Mercury’. I barely slept in a week; Steve was there helping me out. We talked about the album, then it transitioned into family talk. As we were talking he started to get a little too close to me, actually even pining me up against the wall of the studio. Next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. He was kissing me without my consent.”

“And as you claim, everything went downhill from there?”

“Yes. The gifts, the constant phone calls, the harassment in the studio. Going off on delusions telling me things like why did I marry Jack Kline? That our kids should’ve been from his sperm. Telling me how in the music industry singers are always cheating on their spouses and I’m no different. That we could have a separate life together while I continue to rise to the top.”

“Which meant you sleeping with him while he helped make your name bigger?”

“Yes. But I refused. Because I’m not like those women who will sleep around to get what she wants. I’ll get it my way through my resources and strengths.” Mr. Barnes nodded at me with a slight grin at the corner of his face.

“Nothing further your honor.” Now it was the defense attorney’s turn.

“You’ll get through the music industry through your own resources and your own strengths.” He asked in more of a questioning tone as he came up towards me.

“Along with the support and love of my family.” I added.

“Interesting. Mrs. Kline isn’t it true that you first began your career with the help of Queen’s help?”

“Objection your honor! How is this relevant to this case?” Mr. Wilson proclaimed.

“I’ll be getting to that your honor but Mrs. Kline must answer my question.” The greasy, obese man stated as he leaned closer towards my podium. I could just smell the disgusting cigar breath off his lips.

“Mrs. Kline, please answer the question.” The judge told me to do.

“They—helped me with my confidence in getting in front of an audience. But at the time I had no idea until hours before the show that’s what they were going to be doing.”

“And then afterwards you continued to use Queen’s resources to help you gain the fame you got in just under a year when most artists especially female singers can hardly get to that degree of fame on their own?”

“Objection your honor! He’s badgering the victim!” Mr. Wilson tried to suade the judge but judge Mayweather overruled it.

“I—we did have the same manager. But how is that different in the case when John Reid was managing both Queen and Elton John over 20 years ago?”

“Mr. Russell, I do hope you’re going somewhere with this because at this point you’re starting to try my patience.”

“Your honor this woman claims to use resources and her own strength, when, in fact, she manipulates men into getting what she wants in life. You said that you hadn’t slept in a week when recording the album? As we all know lack of sleep causes delusions and false memories of events. What if you merely imagined that my client tried to kiss you that night in the studio? And then afterwards had become so paranoid that you antagonized my client to be the villain in this court case!”

“I know what happened as clear as day that night in the studio. And I wasn’t imagining what I saw!” I snapped furiously at him.

“Mrs. Kline control your temper or I will have you placed under contempt of court!” Judge Mayweather warned me.

“Nothing further your honor.” Steve’s lawyer spoke before returning to his chair. I was then called off back to my chair and I brushed my fingers through my hair anxiously.

“Just breathe. Don’t let the jury think they might’ve seen a false allegation in this case.” Mr. Barnes whispered to me. I took a few deep breaths before recomposing myself.

Finally it was Steve’s turn to take the stand.

His defense team started off by asking pretty much the same questions Mr. Barnes asked me. How he got the job, what was it like working for me. And of course Steve tried to paint himself as the victim and I’ll admit he was a damn good actor. Some of the jury was actually swayed by his performance.

I was petrified that even here in the Supreme Court of New York, Steve Harrison was gonna walk away with a slap on the wrist like he has been for the past 2 years.

For five days the trail continued on the same way, people taking their turn on the stands, each side providing their evidence to the jury with each charge we were doing against Steve.

On the 6th day it was time for the final claims as well as closing statements.

“Mrs. Kline, can you describe to us the day when your daughter disappeared from school?” Mr. Barnes asked me.

“Well….” I adjusted the microphone in front of me and said. “I was busy planning my next upcoming tour and Jack had to work overtime at the car dealers. But we had asked my cousin in law Jared go pick her up. The school requires a full on sign-in sheet of additional guardians who are allowed to pick up the students in case the parents can’t pick up their students.”

“And you had Mr. Ackles name to that list correct?”

“Yes. Along with his wife, brother, sister in law and my in-laws as well as the remaining members of Queen.”

“And how did you know that Kelly had been taken my Steve?”

“Jared had called me from the school and told me that Kelly had already been picked up by someone and after an hour and a half, that’s when I got the call from Steve himself. Telling me to meet him at Bull Creek.”

“And did at any time did you give Steve Harrison full permission to pick up your daughter?”

“No. None of my Rock Angel team had authorization to go to Kelly’s school.” He then pulled out a file of Steve’s forged note with my signature on it that gave him clearance to pick Kelly up.

“Now as you can see here, I hold in my hand the actual documented note of Mr. Harrison’s forged letter of Pick-Up for one Kelly Kline. Her school codes states, that if there isn’t any documentation of said people to pick up the child in question, they must provide a note signed by the parent themselves in order to pick up the child.”

“Objection!” Steve’s DA proclaimed.

“Overruled.” Judge Mayweather stated.

“Knowing this; Mr. Harrison printed out the letter of documented proof that he had access to pick up Kelly Kline. He then forged Mrs. Kline’s signature as you’ll see up close here.” On the overhead projector he had both my real signature and Steve’s forged signature with my name on it. “Now as you can see it’s practically identical. But if you look very closely there is a difference.” He then put a magnifying glass up to my last name. “You’ll notice how she writes the K with a curved slant at the top right line for the K itself. While on Mr. Harrison’s forged signature the corner line is completely straight.”

“Objection your honor! Everyone writes their signatures slightly different every time. This shows no proof that my client forged her signature.” Steve’s DA proclaimed.

“If I may your honor before I was interrupted by my assistant council, I have more proof on why this letter was not signed by my client.”

“Proceed.” The judge granted him. He then removed the two comparisons and pulled up a paper where I was forced to give my signature ten times.

“As you can see here this is my client’s handwritten signature. Now look at the K’s.” he pulled the magnifying glass up to the top corner line to show each one had that exact same curve. “Each one of her top corners has that slight curve to them. Ten. Times my client has written her name. And all ten times each K had that curve on the top corner. Not once does she alternate how she curves it, or accidentally do a straight slant. Each. Top. Corner. Is curved.” The jurors all looked at each other, some of them nodding. “So it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Harrison forged my client’s signature to gain access to her daughter, kidnapping her in order to gain my client’s attention. Forcing her to a remote area where god knows what he could’ve had in mind. But my client isn’t some damsel in distress.” Mr. Barnes turned to look up at me.

“Mrs. Kline you may return to the Prosecutor’s table.” As I stood up and walked down Judge Mayweather called for closing statements. Steve’s DA came up and the fat man stated.

“We all have our obsessions; we all make mistakes. But my client is not insane. He gave Mrs. Kline everything she ever wanted, he kept things professional and it was all due to the paranoia of a celebrity that my client Steve Harrison was bullied, manipulated and forced to take drastic measures to defend himself from the public eye. He is not the villain in this story, he is a victim. And it is up to you, the jury, on who you wish to believe. The money of a celebrity, or the desperate plea of a victim corrupted by the music industry.”

My eyes narrowed at the obese man but I turned my head away as my Prosecutor Mr. Wilson stood up. The middle aged African American paced the courtroom as he said.

“Celebrities aren’t just about the money. It’s not as easy as we may think it is to get as big as they are. They go through struggles financially, mentally and sometimes physically. Now my client did have help but she had her fair share of struggles. As a young woman in an all-male industry they wanted to change her image, to make her follow the typical female artist crowd of showing too much skin, exploiting themselves. But the Rock Angel refused to let that be her image. And she kept that image strong, but there’s also another risk of being a woman in the spotlight. She’s more likely to attacks. Not because she asks for it because she doesn’t. Steve Harrison saw (Y/n) Kline not as she was trying to be but who she was. A famous person whom he believed belonged to him. He used his uncle’s position as her manager to get close to her, and meticulously planned to worm his way into her life. But when she refused to accept his dominance, he snapped. He stalked, harassed, kidnapped her daughter, and finally attempted to murder him. All because she said the one thing men don’t like a woman to say. No. No she wasn’t going to fall for him, No she wasn’t going to leave her adoring husband and kids for him, No she wouldn’t be his. And Steve Harrison took offense to that. And if he goes free, then what’s to stop other men like him going free that don’t know what the word ‘no’ means?”

Mr. Wilson came back and sat down beside me. I placed my hand on top of his and he gave me a soft smirk and nod.

“Alright, jurors the decision is all up to you. We’ll reconvene once the jury has reached their verdict.” Soon the 12 jurors left the courtroom as did the rest of us.

Jack, Roger, myself and my legal team were in the court cafeteria drinking some coffee as we waited for the verdict to come in. Jack and I sat close to each other while Roger sat across from us. He was currently reading some magazine meanwhile my stomach was tossing and turning.

“Six days and it all comes down to this. God I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Don’t give up just yet baby. With the forged signature and the note they found at his apartment of his plan to shoot you, there’s no way he’s gonna walk scot-free.” He kissed the corner of my lips as we continued to wait.

20 long minutes later and Mr. Barnes’ cellphone rings. He reached in his coat pocket and picks it up.

“Yes?” he straightens himself up. “Yeah. Uh-huh. Alright we’ll be there Sam.” He snaps at us. “It’s in.” my heart stops as the three of us look at each other and quickly stand up.

Back at the courtroom, everyone is silent as the jurors come back into the room. The leading female juror, an Asian woman around her mid-40’s held the paper in her hands and handed it to the bailiff. He walked over to the judge who signed it before giving it back to him. The bailiff walked back to the Asian woman and Judge Mayweather asked.

“What say you?” I held onto Mr. Barnes’ and Mr. Wilson’s hands as tight as I could, my legs were shaking under the desk as I looked at the jury. She looked down at the paper and read out loud.

“In the matter of Steve Harrison vs. New York. We the jury find on the account of attempted 1st degree murder—guilty.” I let out a choked gasp. “On the count of aggravated stalking, we find the defendant……guilty.” At this point tears were pooling under my lashes. “On the count of kidnapping in the 1st degree. Guilty.”

Thank God! He was guilty on all charges! Some people in the crowd even cheered at Steve’s conviction. On his end, his face dropped entirely as he lowered his head in shame. His DA’s shook their heads in defeat, his lawyer patted his shoulders and whispered to him.

“Then by the state of New York, I hereby sentence Mr. Harrison to life in prison without the possibility of parole. Court is adjourned.” Judge Mayweather stated before banging his gavel once and left the podium.

I hugged Mr. Wilson and thanked him repeatedly. He embraced me back and congratulated me. I then turned to Mr. Barnes and embraced him and he gladly embraced me back. I turned towards Jack and Rog and they were elated with victory. I went over to Jack and the first thing we did was kiss.

He picked me up and spun me around, our lips still connected with each other’s as Steve was being taken away. We separated and I made sure to lock my eyes on him and he turned to look at me. I narrowed my eyes at him and lifted my chin up high, showing him that I wasn’t weak, that he lost and he’d never hurt or even see me or my family ever again.

Soon he disappeared from the room to be transported to the New York penitentiary for attempted murder, aggravated stalking and kidnapping in the 1st degree.

As we left the courtroom, my lawyer James Barnes said to the media that Steve Harrison had been found guilty.

“Mrs. Kline, anything you’d like to say?” before Mr. Barnes could say anything, I placed my hand on his arm and stood before the cameras.

“What happened to me, happens to everyone around the world. Most of the victims are women and some are men. They feel like they’re alone when this happens to them, but they don’t have to be. So this is my message to those who are victims of stalking, assault, or abuse. You are not alone. There are thousands of others like you out there, but if you don’t speak up, you’ll end up one of the millions of unlucky ones that end up dead. Which is why I’m starting up my own organization. ANGELS AGAINST STALKING. To help victims, like me and you, to get the proper care and help you need to protect yourselves. Even when the law can’t do that.”

I walked down the steps of the courthouse with reporters coming after me with follow up questions about my new organization and more on Steve.

But all I did was get into the car and made a phone call to a special friend. The phone rang a couple times before he answered.

‘Hello?’

“Miami. I need a favor.”

In the next couple of month thanks to some investors that Miami knew, I had set up ANGELS AGAINST STALKING in 3 locations. One in West London, one in New York, and the other in Tokyo, Japan. The media was spreading the news of my organization far and wide and I personally saw to it that the Officers who would work there were not only a part of the city’s police, but took the stalking cases seriously.

They were solemnly swore that if a person calls in regularly for someone stalking or threatening them, they need to take it seriously. If verbal threats were told or they violated a restraining order, they were to take immediate action and give the victim protection.

A profiler was also assigned to ensure that no one took advantage of this system so that no money needed to be wasted on a false story and an innocent person didn’t have to suffer.

People who had been stalked in the past were brought in and coached in how to become therapists because no one but a victim would understand what a true victim is going through.

Soon enough by the start of the summer 1994, ANGELS AGAINST STALKING was up and running and phone calls were coming in and donations from any of my concerts would go to this organization to help keep it running and maybe one day the laws would change against stalking and law enforcement would take it seriously instead of brushing it off or accepting bribes from the assailants family.

If there’s anything that this hellish experience has taught me, it’s that you can’t let your attacker, abuser or stalker show them you have lost the battle. You need to keep fighting, by any means necessary. Even if law enforcement can’t protect you, find a way to protect yourself.

Surround yourself with loved ones, take self-defense classes, keep those you love closest to you. Then when the time comes, document what happens and finally show everyone in law enforcement that you were right.

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plus-size-reader · 5 years ago

Text

Little Wolf

Niklaus Mikaelson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1343 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Klaus’ werewolf gf wants to become a hybrid, but is the danger too much for Nik?

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Niklaus had always been lonely.

In fact, he was the loneliest man in the world, the first and last of his kind.

The closest he’d ever gotten to feeling like he belonged somewhere was when he realized that he was completely and totally in love with you. However, even that couldn’t fill the large hole in his life.

He was the only hybrid to have ever existed and nothing was ever going to change that.

…Not that that was the case anymore.

Klaus had figured out that using the doppelgangers blood actually aided in his creation of his hybrids and Tyler Lockwood was proof of that. Not only was he still breathing, but he was actually thriving and you wanted that.

You wanted that more than you’d ever wanted anything in your life.

“Nicky, I want you to make me a hybrid” you started, your heartbeat quickening as you sat down beside him. Usually it was really hard for you to feel nervous around Klaus but something about this was different.

It was too big of an ask, even for you. Though, you would never be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t ask him.

You lived every moment of your life with Niklaus by your side and you were never going to do anything against him. You two were partners in life, and you wanted to share this with him as well.

You wanted to be a hybrid.

However, that desire didn’t change the fact that before you could even finish your sentence, Klaus was already coming up with ways to shoot you down. You two were mated, which in itself was something that Niklaus never thought would be possible, but the idea of turning you into a hybrid was something else entirely.

There was no way that he could risk your life like that.

Sure, the Lockwood boy hadn’t died but he was only the first. There was no guarantee that Elena’s blood would turn you in the same way, even though you were a werewolf by blood. There was just no way to be sure, and Klaus couldn’t take that risk.

...Not with you.

Other people's lives were a fair gamble but Niklaus couldn’t risk anything killing you. He would never let anything hurt you-and that included himself.

“Absolutely not” he decided, not bothering himself with complicated excuses. You couldn’t become a hybrid without his blood and if he said no, you weren’t going to be able to go behind his back. It was as simple as that, though you seemed to think that it was quite the annoyance.

“What? Why not? Who better than me to be one of your hybrids?” you huffed, crossing your arms in upset. You couldn’t believe that he was being like this but you weren’t going to let his refusal be the end of the conversation.

You were going to become a hybrid, whether he really wanted you to or not.

Now it was Niklaus’ turn to sigh.

He should have known that his darling little wolf wasn’t going to take this lying down. He was going to have to do a lot better than just say no to get you to accept his decision.

“It’s far too dangerous, I would never risk your life in that way” he hummed, turning toward you that much more with a kindness in his tone that would have broken you down if you weren’t so determined.

You wanted to be a hybrid, more than anything and Klaus had no right to deny you of that. Especially not after he took that choice from so many others.

If there was anyone he would take care of, better than anyone, it was you.

...Besides, you weren’t afraid.

You had nothing to be afraid of after all this time.

“Whether or not I risk my life isn’t your choice to make, Niklaus. I am asking you to make me a hybrid...that’s all” you leveled, fully deciding that you were going to tell the truth.

This didn’t need to be anything that had anything to do with your relationship. Right now, you were just a werewolf, asking for an original to make you better.

You wanted that power that came with it, and getting to bond with Nicky on the side, was just a bonus.

...Or so you thought.

It took a few months but as soon as you convinced Niklaus that turning you would turn out just fine, you started wondering if that was the truth.

Was it possible that you had made a mistake in the first place?

As soon as you felt his blood coursing through your veins, his blood dripping down your chin, you weren’t sure. Not for yourself, really, but for Niklaus.

If anything even went remotely wrong, you would never hear the end of it because you had convinced him to take this risk in the first place.

There was pain all over your body though you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. However, you were sure that this would all be worth it, after you stopped feeling like your cells were on fire.

You woke up with a start, expecting some residual pain from what you had been feeling before, though there was none.

Instead of pain, you felt incredible. Better than you had in a long time and you could hardly believe it. It seemed to you that everything Niklaus had been worried about was inconsequential but you wouldn’t be able to be sure until you got up.

No one would know anything lying in bed.

Your footsteps were relatively loud in the empty hallway of the house as you made your way toward Klaus’ study but you couldn’t find him anywhere.

It couldn’t have been that long since you had started the entire transition but obviously some time had passed because Klaus wasn’t waiting for you.

...Like you would have expected.

However, as soon as you turned the corner to his study, a wave of relief washed over you. In the center of the room was the man you loved, bustling over a canvas as he so often was.

You had no idea what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. The first thing you wanted to do after waking up was go see him and nothing was going to keep you from doing that.

Not even a painting.

“Good morning” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist from the back, nuzzling your face against his sweater. Klaus had heard you coming, of course, but he didn’t want to startle you.

Instead, he let you settle in and then turned to face you with a smile on his face. “How are you?” he wondered, his voice calm and ginger as he surveyed you.

He had no idea what kind of transition you would have, or that you’d already dealt with. You couldn’t even answer him before Klaus started in on his worrying.

The second his eyes met your own, you could see the panic behind them.

“I’m okay Nik, I swear” you assured, smiling at him as his hands fell gently on your face. There was clear evidence of all the pain and stress your body had been under, but it seemed the worst of it was over.

...Or so he hoped.

Niklaus wanted to believe you, he wanted to believe that he didn’t have to worry about you. However, he knew that he’d never be able to get over it.

He’d be worried about you for all of your lives, and he couldn’t help that.

What you had just been through would change everything, and he just hoped that the most painful part was over. If there was more, he wasn’t sure if he could handle it.

Klaus had nearly lost his mind the first time.

Though, you seemed to be doing okay right now. “You’re sure?” he clarified, reaching out to take your hand in his own, giving it a squeeze.

You were, but you could tell that Niklaus was gonna need more convincing than that.

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ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a The Magnus Archives fanfic

Also on AO3.

Chapter 1: Martin

It’s been six weeks now that Martin’s been living in the Archives, and he’s beginning to feel like he’s going a bit mad.

In the first place, it’s really hard to separate work and personal life when they’re both conducted in the same space, and even though he tries to keep from doing work in the area he’s been sleeping in, it still creeps in. He’ll do anything for Jon, of course—not that he’ll admit that out loud—but it does get a bit wearing, being on the job, so to speak, all the time.

In the second place, there’s the paranoia. The worms are real and present. They’re outside the Institute, and apparently just about everyone has seen them by now, but they’re inside, too, or at least in the Archives. It’s been a while since Jon rolled his eyes or Sasha got that I am being tactful look on her face when Martin suspects he sees one, because they’ve all seen them and gone after them. The trouble is that knowing the worms are getting inside, that he’s not just jumping at shadows, makes his nerves worse, not better. He tries not to bring it up so much to the others unless he has proof, but he’s getting twitchier by the day and it’s getting harder and harder to sleep.

In the third place, he’s apparently getting forgetful.

It’s something he’s really only noticed in the last week, but Tim and Sasha will bring something up, ask him about something they wanted him to look up or reference a previous conversation, and then act confused when he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He’d think they’re gaslighting him if they were the type to do that, but as much as Tim likes to tease, he’s not malicious about it. And Sasha banters, but doesn’t tease, not like that. Which means he’s losing moments and chunks of time. He supposes he should just be thankful he hasn’t forgotten anything Jon’s asked of him yet, or at least that Jon hasn’t brought it up if he has.

It’s probably from lack of sleep, which tells Martin he should definitely be getting more of it, but it’s hard. Partly it’s the worrying about the worms and partly it’s the fact that he’s got this persistent feeling of being watched, but if he’s honest, a lot of it also has to do with the fact that he worries about Jon. The man doesn’t take care of himself, he looks positively exhausted some days, and he hasn’t snapped at Martin in almost two weeks, a new record. Martin wants to wrap Jon in a blanket and hold him until he gets some rest already, but that desire sends his mind down paths he’s trying to keep it from wandering, thank you very much. Still, Martin’s not sleeping much either and it’s probably affecting his memory. Still worrying, though.

He sighs heavily and turns over on the cot, like he’s trying to get comfortable. He already is comfortable, at least physically. It’s his mind that’s uneasy, that won’t rest.

Finally, he gives up. Maybe if he gets up and does a quick circuit of the Archives, just to assure himself there aren’t any worms, he’ll feel better. And if all else fails, he can busy himself with quietly removing staples from documents so they’ll be in better condition years down the line. He gets where Jon is coming from, wanting them all to be together, but come on, even Martin knows you’re not supposed to do that.

He climbs out of the cot, replaces his glasses, and pulls on his trousers; no one else is supposed to be there, but it’d be just his luck if Jon stayed late or passed out at his desk or something. Or worse, Tim’s still around, ready to make a cheeky comment about his choice of sleepwear. He slips the torch into one pocket and the corkscrew into the other, picks up the fire extinguisher he keeps with him at all times now, and heads out barefoot into the Archives.

It’s—there’s no other word for it—spooky at night, with no one else around. The emergency lights stay on all the time, sporadic lights that don’t so much illuminate as give texture to the darkness. You can see your way around, but if you want to do any serious work you’ll need to either turn on a regular light or use a torch. Martin’s at the point where he trusts anything about the Institute about as far as he can see it, including the electricity, hence why he always carries the torch with him. Also, he’s discovered that this emergency lighting isn’t all over the Institute, not that he plans on venturing out of the Archives tonight. This is just a quick tour to reassure himself that his sleep will be worm-free, so that maybe he can get some.

He’s a few steps away from one of the empty offices, its lights dark—no emergency lighting in there—when he hears a sound from a nearby aisle and freezes. Someone—or something—is in the Archives.

Oddly enough, the fact that it sounds too big to be a worm is not reassuring.

Martin’s not stupid, far from it. He’s read the statements, and he’s also got a secret, rarely-indulged fondness for Gothic horror that dates back to his discovery of Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s Christabel. He knows that going towards the sound and calling out a questioning hello is asking for trouble. He’ll end up with all the blood drained out of him, or fed to a giant monster, or with some creep wearing his face like a mask.

On the other hand, what can he actually do? He doesn’t have his cell phone anymore, didn’t grab his laptop before bolting out of his flat, and the only phone in the Archives is in Jon’s office. Martin doesn’t even know if it’s a real phone or if it’s just a fancy-looking intercom system. If he retreats back to the room he’s been staying in and hides under the blankets, it won’t stop whatever is in there from coming after him if it wants to, plus he’ll be trapped. At least out here he can, in theory, get away if it attacks.

Plus...he’s too damned curious, he supposes. Not knowing bothers him almost as much as the risks of finding out.

He takes a deep breath, slips his hand into his pocket to reassure himself the corkscrew is there just in case, and steps around the shelves.

“Hey!” he calls, and then yelps in surprise.

Standing a few yards away down the aisle is him.

The other person doesn’t just look a lot like him. It is him. Same height, same build, same coloring. Same messy mop of hair that needs a cut, never mind a comb. Same bags under the eyes. Hell, he’s even wearing the same damn sweater Martin is, the one he refuses to admit out loud why he likes to wear so often. And he’s looking at Martin with the same startled expression on his face that Martin must have on his own.

Then the other Martin sighs and closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping, and suddenly he looks...old. Tired for more reasons than just a simple lack of sleep. “Christ. You’re the one person I was trying to avoid. Couldn’t sleep, could you?”

“Wh-who are you? What are you?” Martin demands, aware that his voice is creeping towards a higher register. “I-I’ve got a knife!”

The other looks up again. “Really? You haven’t switched to the corkscrew yet?”

“Th—what?”

“Corkscrew,” the other repeats. “It works better on the worms than a knife would. They go straight in, more or less, and they don’t move quickly, so you can...pull them out with it easier. If you need to.”

Martin’s fingers tighten around the corkscrew’s handle, unsettled at hearing his logic spilling from another’s mouth, especially a mouth that matches his own. “How—how do you know about the corkscrew? Or the worms?”

The other’s lips twitch in a smile that doesn’t have a lot of amusement in it. “I’m you from the future.”

Martin blinks. “Shut up.”

“No, honest.”

“You expect me to believe in time travel.”

The other actually laughs. It sounds like the way Martin laughs when he’s not so much amused at what’s happening or what’s been said as at his own reaction to it. “Honestly? I didn’t completely believe in time travel until I woke up here in the Archives and heard Tim’s voice.”

There’s something a bit wistful in the other’s voice that, weirdly enough, makes Martin believe him a little bit. Not completely, but a little bit. On the other hand, the fact that the other claims to have known he was in the past because he heard Tim’s voice is...probably not good. Martin decides he’s not quite ready to know that yet. “So...you’re from the future. In the past. Why?”

“You want the short answer or the long one?”

“Short,” Martin says after a moment’s deliberation. “Until I decide if I trust you.”

The other nods, as if he expected that answer—which, well, if he really is Martin from the future, he probably did. “To stop the world from ending.”

Martin gives a short bark of incredulous laughter. “So—so are you saying you’re here to prevent nuclear warfare, o-or climate change, or are we talking biblical Armageddon with angels and demons and seven years of darkness?”

“The last one’s the closest, really,” the other says seriously. “No demons or angels, though. Not the traditional type, anyway. And I can’t really say how many years of darkness we’ve had. Time hasn’t meant all that much since it ended.”

“Wait, wait. You’re saying the world already ended. Will end. In my lifetime. And I’ll...survive it, somehow?”

The other’s gaze is...disconcerting, to say the least. It’s like he’s seeing through Martin, looking not at him but at a fixed point in his life. “Not your lifetime. That’s what we’re here to stop. Maybe it’s better to say I’m from a future, but not yours.” He smiles faintly. “I never met myself, so we’ve already changed that much, at least.”

We, Martin notes. Not I. That’s not terrifying at all. He decides that most questions can wait until he’s sure he actually believes the other, though. “What are you planning to do to stop it?”

The other hesitates. “That’s...there’s not really a short answer to that one, and it won’t make much sense without the long answer to the other.”

“F-fine. Fine. What can I do to help you prevent the world from ending?”

“Keep Jon safe.” The other speaks with an intensity and gravity that settles into Martin’s bones, pinning him to the ground with the weight of it. “Don’t let him get hurt.”

“He gets hurt?” Martin’s voice goes slightly shrill for a moment. His growing feelings for Jon are a tightly-kept secret, or at least he wants them to be—Tim’s probably figured it out, he seems to figure out everything else—but the mere idea of Jon being hurt sends him into a minor panic. A small, more rational part of him wonders if this is proof that the other isn’t him, that he isn’t panicking at the thought.

“Not if you can help it,” the other says. “I—I can’t go into too many details. Not right now. You’re—you’re probably safe, whatever you know, but I can’t be certain, and it’s a lot to risk at the moment. Just...trust me. Keep Jon safe. Don’t hover,” he adds hastily, as if he knows how likely it is that Martin’s going to do exactly that, “but just...keep a sharp eye out for worms. And spiders.”

“Spiders aren’t dangerous.” Martin narrows his eyes at the other as another tendril of doubt curls through him. “Not all of them. Not inherently.”

“No, not spiders themselves,” the other agrees. “But...well. Let’s just say Jon has his reasons for being afraid of them, and they’re...very valid. Spiders won’t hurt him, exactly, but they’re liable to be a sign that something that will hurt him very nearby.”

“The worms. Am I in danger?”

Again the other hesitates. “Not tonight. Not...Jane Prentiss knows where you live, so she toyed with you, set you off-balance as a warning to the others. It’s why you can’t go home. But she only knows because she followed you back from that basement. You’re not what she’s after. She won’t attack the Institute while you’re sleeping.”

Martin stares. “That’s...not as comforting as you might think.”

“No,” the other says, with an odd sort of smile and laugh, as if at a private joke Martin doesn’t get. “No, I guess not.”

Martin bites his lip, then asks the only question he feels like he can ask. “How can I trust you? How can I know you’re...really me from the future?”

The other tilts his head, as if considering that question from all angles. Martin knows it’s not a fair question. He can’t really expect the other to tell him something that happens in the future and then just...wait around until it happens. Especially since now it might not happen, if the other has already changed things. The thought gives him a slight headache.

Finally, the other says, “You should tell Jon the truth.”

Martin’s heart rate accelerates dramatically. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. “A-about what?”

“About your CV. That you lied to get the job. Tell him, first thing tomorrow.”

That’s not what Martin was afraid the other was going to suggest telling the truth about, but it doesn’t noticeably calm him, either. “He’ll kill me! Or worse, fire me!”

“He can’t.” The other speaks with the weirdest mix of authority and sadness Martin’s ever heard. “At least, he can’t fire you, any more than you can quit. And he won’t kill you. Anyway, better for it to come out now than...the way it eventually came out for me. Trust me.”

Martin swallows, hard. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that big a deal, really. Anyway, he’s been at the Institute for eleven years now, so it’s not like he doesn’t have some qualifications by now. Isn’t university just supposed to be a shortcut to experience? “A-all right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. And if he doesn’t completely lose his mind, I’ll...be back to talk to you tomorrow night. I’m living here right now.”

“I know. It’s been...what, a month?”

“Six weeks and a bit.”

“So it’s the end of April,” the other mumbles, more to himself than anything. “Plenty of time then. I can hold off a bit longer.”

Martin’s nerves can’t take much more of this. “I’m—I’m going to go—lie down.”

The other’s gaze flicks back to his face. “Go ahead. I promise you’ll be safe.”

It shouldn’t be comforting, to hear that from a stranger wearing his face, his skin. But to Martin’s mild surprise, when he gets into the cot and pulls the blanket up over his shoulders, he falls asleep almost right away.

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #time travel fix it au #this is Chapter 1 of idk how many #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#ollie writes fanfic

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enithinggoes · 3 years ago

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Wanderer’s Refuge, chapter 3:Lawrence knows people

The Wanderer’s Refuge was heading for the beach, Agatha and Ursa still wanted to stick to their plan of visiting it, and what better time than the present right? Lawrence didn’t mind, he didn’t have anywhere to be.

But they were going to have to make a few stops along the way for supplies, such as water for the boiler, coal(Lawrence couldn’t keep his flames going for long and without steam, making the train move was very tiresome for Agatha), and just some better clothes.

Lawrence suggested the little town of Sunhill, known for being one of the few places where you can still buy items to make sorcery more potent and useful, though you’ve got to know where to look, plus it was on the way anyway, although it’s location in the middle of a meadow not connected to the railway system meant the coal would have to wait.

After they landed in the woods close by, the trio headed into the town of Sunhill, observing it to be a lot quainter than their last stop, the streets had lots of trees around and the wind seemed just a little bit lighter. Lawrence guided them to what seemed to be a regular clothing store, but after Agatha and Ursa picked up a few sets of clothes, including a cute white sweater for the former and some sturdy leather gloves for the latter, he took them to changing room 3, telling them all to get in.

After they entered a bit confused, he pulled on handle on the wall and said “What our souls make is forever ours”. The wall opened like a door, revealing a secret, hidden store where a man with a dirty black beard welcomed them.

“Well, go on in, my mom said these guys hold the highest quality when it comes to magic apparel, this is where she got me these fire-proof gloves that don’t inhibit my sorcery.” He gestured to the secret store, “have fun in there, I’m gonna go get myself some new suits and we can meet outside.”

After Lawrence left with a little smirk, Ursa wheeled Agatha in and they had a look around, “what can I offer you today?” said the bearded clerk, “tell me about your natural sorceries and I can give you a few recommendations.” He had a slightly dangerous smile of a man who’d been through quite a few tribulations and should not be taken lightly, but there was no hostility in his demeanor.

“Oh!” Agatha chirped with anticipation, “I create iron and Ursa creates steel, I’d like something that could help me make precise images to transform into my creations, please.” She wheeled herself forward faster than Ursa pushed her.

“Very well then, I think I have just the right thing, draw something in this notepad, please, reeeally concentrate on it,” the shopkeep suggested.

Agatha picked up the white chalk and started scraping it over the flat black pad, after she drew a small pocket watch, it seemed to spontaneously manifest in the table next to her, prompting a rigorous observation and a gasp of excitement from Agatha, once she’d confirmed it was identical to her drawing, she rubbed her hand over the pad erasing the drawing, the watch disappeared.

“Oh this will definitely help, thank you sir, I’d love to take this!” Agatha exclaimed.

Ursa, who’d been looking around at the artifacts since she’d gotten in, took this chance to say what she was looking for, “You got anything that can help me use my sorcery on my whole body? So far I can only really get it to go on my arms and legs.”

The man scratched his beard as he went over his store’s inventory, “hmm. I think I know what you need, something to center yourself! Here you go, wear this over your heart.” He handed her a plain white circular brooch.

“It’s… Unusually warm,” commented Ursa.

“When you want to use sorcery on your whole body, focus on that warm feeling as the center of your being,” explained the vendor.

“Huh.” Ursa rubbed the brooch between her index finger and thumb. “I’ll take it.”

Meanwhile, Lawrence was indulging himself with a new dark blue suit and taking a look at a few hats, when he saw a young man that caught his eye, with short black hair, light brown skin, a button-up vest and a bandana around his neck. Though the trait that interested Lawrence most the sharpness of his brown-orange eyes, “there’s a man who knows what he’s looking for!” thought Lawrence.

“Hey, handsome.” He greeted, leaning his elbow against a rack to his left, “what brings you here?”

The man tilted his head and stared at him curiously for a moment, as if not expecting any kind of interaction, then answered in a serious tone “Oh, hello sir. I’m actually here on the job, if you’re well acquainted with this store’s patrons, could you tell me a bit about the clientele?”

“Oh, well, we get a bit of everything here, men, women, children, you name it, it’s got items for all tastes, as long as you’ve got some dough.” Lawrence showed a tightly closed fist as he gave the least informative answer he could think of, he would have to keep an eye on this guy, “what are you, anyway, an investor or something of the sort? The name is Lauren, by the way, enchanted to meet you.”

The man furrowed his brow as he shook Lawrence’s hand, “I’m Tobias Walker, and I’m tasked with investigating the strangely high criminal presence in the region surrounding this store, have you seen anything… unnatural lately sir?”

Lawrence hid his worry under a well-practiced clueless smile, “well, you’d have to tell me what you’re looking for, because I haven’t witnessed anything I’d describe in such a way these days, mister.”

“Hmm, I can’t tell a civilian too much more about it, just leave it alone, I’ll find my way around, thank you. One more thing, do you know anyone who’s seen two girls, one white-haired with glasses and the other one black-haired with a horizontal scar over her nose?” As the man spoke, Agatha and Ursa were coming out of the dressing room, before they could come to greet Lawrence and give themselves away, he grimaced and pointed outside at his hip height, doing his best to alert them without being too suspicious.

“Hey! I haven’t seen anyone like that, but maybe I can talk to the people I know around here and tell you what I find out over coffee somewhere nearby?” Lawrence did his best to keep the investigator’s attention on himself as the girls snuck away from the building.

“I see, I don’t think that will be necessary, we’re leaving in a few days but thank you for the offer,” he said, and Lawrence took note of the use of “we”, “just one more thing, what’s your real name?”

That caught Lawrence off guard, but Tobias’ expression was closer to amusement than accusation. “It’s Lawrence,” he answered with a grin not letting his surprise show.

“Well, I haven’t heard of any misbehaviors on your part, but color me curious, what reason would a man like you have to lie about their name?”

Lawrence winked and leaned closer, saying “maybe I can tell you about it if we meet again.” before dashing out into the street.

Tobias was left quizzical, thinking “I think that man may have just stolen a few suits…”

“We gotta go we gotta go we gotta go!” Lawrence shout-whispered at the girls as he gently pushed them along away from the clothes store.

“What’s happening? Who was that guy? Are we in trouble?” said Ursa, wheeling Agatha forward quickly to avoid the pushing.

“Not if we move quickly, that was an investigator trying to find the centers of sorcerous activity around here, also you two specifically, I didn’t know you were such a hot topic,” answered Lawrence, moving quickly back towards the woods, “we’ll have to spend a while laying low around here, if we take off while they’re looking for you they’ll know exactly where we’re going”.

The trio came back to the Wanderer’s and hid inside, but there was something strange, dirt on the floor of the train, and not in the shape of their shoes, but in the shape of paws, five toed, long-clawed paws. Perhaps more surprising, in a few more moments, they saw that one of the sacks of less perishable food was missing, not torn up, but seemingly, inexplicably carried away.

#Wanderer's refuge #steampunk #magic #gay character #lesbian character #Original Work #original writing #original story #weekly #saturday #enni #bastard man #i love my bastard boy #found family #chill chapter

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mindlcssartist · 4 years ago

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is that [LAURA HARRIER]? no, that’s just [ADELAIDE 'ADDIE' ATKINS]. [SHE] is [TWENTY-SEVEN] years old and is a [B&B OWNER]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [FOUR YEARS]. on a good day, they’re [RESILENT & ALOCENTRIC]. but watch out! they can also be [DECEITFUL & TACITURN]. [GROWING PAINS BY ALESSIA CARA] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill!

tw: child neglect, arson, cheating.

hello hello hello! you all can call me g and i invited myself to this party to introduce to you my baby addie SO, without further ado, let’s do it shall we?

H I S T O R Y

Adelaide Atkins Savoy is the daughter of Edward Atkins, an English salesman/conman and Ann Savoy, a French teacher that came from a (somewhat) noble family.

The Atkins family moved to Peachtree, Georgia from England when Addie was five years old after a business initiated by Edward, her father, went awry with the Savoys. Addie’s grandpa, who probably lost the most out of the business con but loved Addie to no end and wanted her grandkid to have a decent life, decided to fly the Atkin-Savoy family and bought them a wonderful, luxurious home on Addie’s name.

Her childhood was… an odd one, to say the least. Her parents still acted like they were part of the Savoy family while in Georgia (and with the housing/jobs Addie’s grandpa got them, there was no reason to doubt them) so they fit perfectly with Georgia’s finest, they were living a double life of sorts, socialités in debt who schemed their wealthiest friends without them knowing. Her parents promptly got Addie to work alongside them, either as a distraction or as an active asset in their plans and she couldn’t quite deny her skills to them alas, Addie did stuff she wasn’t proud of, illegal stuff she could get away with because no one suspected the little girl with the ponytails.

Edward Michael Atkins Savoy, Addie’s younger brother was born when Adelaide was around eleven. Ann lost interest on Eddie pretty quickly so Addie pretty much raised the kid as well as she could after she turned thirteen. The two formed an unbreakable bond very quickly.

She learned many skills during her time with her parents: pick locking, html, pickpocketing, boxing, sewing (which served the young woman well when her parents decided to stop buying their kids clothes and she started making them for the two of them instead), whatever her parents required of her and whatever she could learn to make sure her brother was well taken care of, she’d learn.

CHILD NEGLECT TW The worst instance of their parents neglecting both Addie and Eddie happened right after Eddie turned five. Their friends found out about how the couple had played them and the Atkins family lost all respect within the community, so they quickly started to go in debt with banks and strangers to try to live the life Ann and Edward were so used to. By this time, the matrimony had mostly forgotten their kids to the point where they stopped providing for them unless they needed Adelaide for some job, so it was all Addie’s responsibility to not only care for her brother but her parents somehow. She started working (an honest job) when she was fourteen and never truly stopped.

ARSON TW when Addie was seventeen, one year from graduating high school Edward and Ann made a decision: they needed money to pay off credit debts and alas, they needed to burn down the house the Savoys had bought for the family because they needed the insurance money. Addie started to storage as many stuff as she could when she was informed of what was going to happen (was guilt-tripped into staying silent) and the night her parents actually burnt the house down, Addie grabbed Eddie, everything she had gathered, a car a friend had lend to her and flee Peachtree, the two siblings didn’t look back. Adelaide didn’t finish High School.

After the two siblings escaped Peachtree, they situated in Arkansas for about a year, where Addie worked around two, three jobs in order to take care of herself and Eddie. No longer after a friend encouraged her to give her testimony (and all the proof she had gathered that backed up the claim that the fire had been premeditated) and she put her parents in jail for arson and child neglect, gaining her brother’s full custody and whatever money was left from the insurance payment.

The Atkins have lived in: Florida, North and South Carolina, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Indiana, Maine, New York and now New Jersey, always trying to make a home out of these places to no avail.

In one of these cities, Adelaide met a dark, mysterious man who she quickly fell in love with when she was no more than twenty-three years old and for the first time in her life, she opened her heart and mind, fully, to someone else other than her brother and close friends. However, not everything was a fairytale: it didn’t take long until Addie discovered the man she had fallen in love with was engaged to be married to another woman, and their relationship ended as abruptly as it started, leaving her completely shattered and heartbroken and thus, the Atkins siblings arrived to their final destination: Springhill because it was their next point in the map. they’ve lived in the city for a little over four years now.

After working as a waitress/bartender/cook/whatever she could get to make a living for her and Eddie, Addie got a letter from the Savoy family one day with the news that her grandfather had died and had left behind a trust fund for her, enough money for the two siblings to live off comfortably for the rest of their lives. However, the oldest decided to only use enough to buy a nice house for the two of them and to open a modest, lovely b&b, their major source of income. They have a nice life.

She and Eddy don’t really talk about their past a lot, unless any of the parts truly trust the person they tell their story to.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Most days, Addie is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, the kind of girl who smiles at everyone she meets and greets strangers with a smile on the daily. She likes making people around her happy. She thrives when people around her shine.

However, she can be very closed off and go as far as to be very deceitful? I mean, she is sharp, even though people don’t think she is because they write her off as a “southern belle” type, but what most people don’t know is she can be cunning whenever she sets her mind on it, she learned from a very young age how to take advantage of everything she had to get what she had her mind settled on.

The one thing she cares the most about in the world is her brother, Eddie. The boy is pretty much her own and has been since the day he was born, she would stop at nothing to make sure he is fine and he is happy.

Her hobbies include painting and sculpting (which she makes some money off of), gardening (the Atkins sibling’s home is a glorified zen garden by now) and designing (she sometimes uses this skill to make clothes for selling to friends and acquaintances).

She has fleeting relationships that never take to anything serious (committing issues plus a ton of other issues let’s be honest), but it doesn’t mean she isn’t opposed to the idea. She simply believes it’s not in her destiny to find the one.

Loyal to no end, good god. It takes a lot for her to feel comfortable with someone to call them her friend but once she does, she is the most loyal friend. Also the mom friend, no matter how close you are. If it’s even a little bit chilly outside and she sees a stranger shivering she WILL give them her sweater, has medicine and candy on her at all times.

She can be quite impetuous and extremely curious to the verge of being noisy, but never in a malicious way, unless you mess with someone she cares about.

Whatever you throw her way, she’ll land on her feet.

P L O T S (*will be a wc on main)

Ex-boyfriend*: There could be many ways to go with this, many reasons why he never told her he was engaged in the first place or why he lead her to believe he was equally in love with her, but boy do we love the angst in this household and I would love to see what this connection could bring.

Best friend: Either the best friend who help the Atkins while the lived in Georgia (preferably) or a new friendship they’ve built in the years they’ve been in Springhill Addie would be nothing without this person. She trusts them more than her own shadow and would kill for them in a heartbeat.

Foreign cousins: Maybe someone seeking vengeance because of what Addie’s father did to the family? Maybe they don’t even know they are related, everyone loves having someone you can tell “well, now i know where the craziness comes from”.

Muse: Whenever she’s stressed or just… inspiration strikes, Addie calls this person to either use them as a model or a canvass. She has every line of their body engraved on her memory and she still finds them fascinating and could spend hours painting them. We can discuss what shape this plot could potentially take.

People she works for: Either her art or the clothes she makes, I’d love to write about any of those.

Hook-ups: past, present, ended in good terms, ended in bad terms, one-sided infatuations that couldn’t go over due to Addie’s commitment issues… I want it all!

Possible love interest who will make her want to commit for once and open her heart again??????

Friends, enemies, neighbors… just love my baby, she and Eddie will love you back!

Okay, wow, if you made it through… honestly bless you and you deserve a freaking award. if you read this mess (i literally haven’t slept AT ALL because i wanted to binge the politician and idk if it makes any sense) and you still wanna plot, hmu of like this post and i’ll come to you!

#springhillintro

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skybiome · 5 years ago

Note

Maybe some wholesome content with vex shadows????

Home Sweet Home

as you wish, anon

for @mine-sara-sp‘s shadow people au!

no content warnings: this is all fluff

At this point, Wels had accepted that the Vex shadows live underneath his house. The knight wasn’t entirely sure how the shadows had found his house, as it was fairly out of the way, but they made decent enough neighbors. Keloid and Avarice had only broken into his basement a few times.

Their constant attempts to retrieve Wel’s valuables from his ender chest were slightly annoying, though. The efforts normally ended with one of them getting frustrated and either breaking or attempting to steal the ender chest.

After going through 4 of the chests, the knight was careful to not leave ender chests lying around and made sure to donate several to the shadows’ growing hoard. He would have donated his diamonds to the shadows so they would stop trying to steal the gems off him, but Wels needed the currency to buy from shops.

Otherwise, he only really used his diamonds to buy new armor from Paladin. Being immune to regular fire and having a surplus of precious materials at their fingertips, the shadow was the best smith on the server for both weapons and armor.

All of their products were custom made at exorbitant prices. Despite being incredibly expensive, Wels could amend to the armor’s strength. It had saved his life several times. He was also quietly glad that Apex didn’t have easy access to the diamonds needed to buy a sword from Paladin.

The knight was wandering through the vex hoard as the hammer strokes of Paladin at his forge echoed through the cave. The armor unbelievably good, but not even Paladin’s prized armor could save Wels when his elytra broke and he fell to his death in the middle of the wilderness.

He was also fairly certain that Paladin gave him a massive discount whenever he needed new armor. Cub and TFC were the only ones on the server that wore the armor constantly. Scar would have as well, but most of the vex’s current hoard had come from Scar’s generous donations every time he died and lost everything. No one else had the diamonds to afford a full set.

Paladin didn’t have a set price for their armor and instead set the price depending on who was buying the armor and how high of a quality they wanted. The best armor, the set that Wels was buying right now, only cost him a stack of diamonds for the full set plus the sword. Considering that it had apparently cost Cub 5 stacks of diamonds for both the armor and sword, Wels was practically stealing from the shadow.

The only reason Wels could think of why Paladin gave him such a steep discount was because the three shadows lived beneath his house, and when Wels had nothing better to do, he’d work on digging out more space in the cavern. He’d also decorated one of the smaller pocket caverns with plant life and had brought a few parrots and cats into it.

He hoped that the shadows did realize how much effort it took to get the animals. Transporting parrots, foxes, and cats long distances in boats was even less fun than it sounded. Luckily, Wels could breed the animals, even if they were untamed.

Currently, the knight was wandering among the vex shadow’s piles of riches. They weren’t nearly as impressive as they had been last season, but Avarice seemed to have gotten the capitalism equivalent of empty nest syndrome and was trying its hardest to fill their home with shiny things.

Wels was quietly confused by why the shadows let him wander around their hoard. If anyone other than him tried to enter, they were quickly stopped by Avarice or Keloid. The only time a hermit was allowed inside was if they had rung the bell outside. Next to the bell was a sign that read “Ring if you want to buy armor and weapons from Paladin”

Once someone had rung the bell, Paladin would come to get the hermit and lead them to the forge. The entire time, the shadow would make sure that the customer didn’t take anything from the hoard scattered throughout the main room. Paladin would then take hermits’ requests, measurements, and half of the cost upfront. Paladin would then take the second half of the payment when the hermit returned to collect their armor or weapons.

A few hermits had tried to cheat the deal by killing Paladin when collecting their armor so they didn’t have to pay. This was only attempted a few times, as the hermit who tried always ended up dead by the claws of Keloid and Avarice.

It would take a few days for Paladin to finish his new armor, so Wels took to looking through the vex’s slowly growing hoard. Most of it was made up of gold or iron, with diamonds still being slightly rare on the new season. Wels had at one point tried to sort the shadows’ riches, but had realized it was a lost cause after Keloid distracted him in order to let Avarice mess up his neat piles.

There were also a few emeralds sparsely spread throughout the collection. Joe had paid Paladin in emerald for a set of golden pants and boots. It was the oddest request that Paladin had ever received, because the eccentric hermit had told the shadow to do basically whatever he wanted with them. Joe’s only request was that they not break easily.

Three days later, Joe picked up the armor and given Paladin the last two emerald blocks, making the total price 4 emeralds blocks. The boots were gold as Joe had requested, but they also had small bits of the emeralds that Joe had paid with embedded into them.

No one was entirely sure of the method Paladin used to make the armor, but the shadow managed to infuse enchantments into the material they used. Often the effects of the enchantment were stronger than anything a hermit could get from an enchanting table.

The boots had unbreaking 5, depth strider 4, feather falling 5, and blast protection 6. The pants had unbreaking 5, and projectile protection, mending, and thorns 5.

Paladin normally didn’t add mending to the armor but made an exception for this set because Joe had given him full creative freedom. Joe complimented the shadow on his exceptional craftsmanship, put on his armor, and ran off into the night with several creepers following him. As far as Wels knew, Joe was still wearing the armor.

Wels absentmindedly picked up an iron helmet from one of the piles of riches on the stone floor. The knight was wearing no armor, only a sweater and soft pants. He’d lost his armor after all. His long hair was pulled back into a braid. As Wels set the helmet on his head, a soft meow echoed through the cave. A moment later, Jellie wandered around the corner, out of the animal room and into the main cave.

Despite all of Wels’s attempts to animal proof the room, Jellie and Jam always managed to get in and out like the door to the room didn’t even exist. Not that Wels was trying to keep them or anything. It just seemed like the cat and her shadow didn’t follow the rules of regular animals.

A moment later, Keloid emerged from around the corner, arms outstretched and attempting to call Jellie over to it. Instead, Jellie trotted towards Wel, pausing to brush against his ankles. Keloid took the feline’s pause as an opportunity and scooped Jellie into his arms. Though, they quickly let her go when she began to protest. The shadow set her back on the ground, and after a moment she continued her way towards the modified cave mouth that made the main entrance to the vex’s home.

Keloid hummed disappointedly as Jellie walked out of the cave. As much as they wanted the cat to stick around, both Jellie and Jam seemed to wander between ConVex and their shadows.

As Jellie left the cavern, Jam walked in her summoner’s footsteps and settled around Keloid’s feet. The shadow leaned down and carefully picked up the cat shadow, cradling her in its arms. A deep rumbling sound emerged from the shadow’s chest.

Keloid was mimicking Jam and purring. When Jam didn’t protest at being held, Keloid took that as an invitation and walked back towards the animal room. After a moment, the shadow turned around to see if Wels was following. The knight wasn’t following, so shadow motioned for him to follow with one of its free arms.

Wels rolled his eyes, but followed after the shadow. The two went deeper into the cave system, towards the animal room. Once Keloid reached the door, they turned around to wait for Wels. The knight joined the shadow beside the door, and quickly walked through once Keloid opened it for him.

The shadow walked through as well, careful to make sure that none of the animals escaped. Inside, a handmade forest rested.

The walls of the cavern rose all the way to the surface, with light being let in through the glass ceiling above. The sunlight was muted though, by the lake on top of the glass, hiding the vex’s domain from sight.

A slow-moving stream snaked its way through the cavern, beginning as a waterfall at one end and emptying into a basin filled with hand-placed coral and tropical fish. Stray cats and ocelots batted at salmon close to the waterfall, while the tropical fish were mostly watched by the shadows.

It’s a lot like an interactive fish tank, Wels thought. In a way.

Occasionally, he’d feel a pang in his chest. A pang of disappointment that no one else would get to see the detail he’d put into the shadows’ home. He shoved the thought away the best he could, but it was still something that hung over his head. He’d put so much time into the vex’s dwelling, that his own home was still a simple cottage with minimal effort put into it

Wels was dragged out of his train of thought, as Keloid set Jam in his arms. The unarmored knight stumbled at the sudden package in his arms. Jam rolled to look at her new carrier, and began purring like a small tractor engine.

Keloid must have realized that Wels was thinking about something, because they were suddenly steering the knight towards the waterfall.

Very quickly, the clearing near the water feature had become a special place for the inhabitants of the cavern. It wasn’t a space for talking or doing much. It was a quiet space to simply be together.

The corrupted shadow steered Wels to the bank beside the bottom of the waterfall. Knowing the routine, Wels sat down. Now in a more comfortable position, Jam stretched briefly, before kneading Wels’s lap and curling up to rest. As a shadow, she may not need to sleep, but she still enjoyed spending time with people.

Keloid settled down behind Wels. After a moment, Wels felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see the shadow holding the end of his braid. A small smile crept onto his face, and Wels nodded. Keloid let out a small, pleased coo, and carefully took the tie out from the end of the knight’s braid.

Wels turned back to slow-moving water.

With careful hands, Keloid undid the braid and ran its hands caringly through the knight’s hair. After several minutes, Keloid began putting the locks back into a braid. Once finished, the shadow undid the braid and kept repeating the process.

Wels closed his eyes as the shadow played with his hair. It felt nice to just relax. A parrot chirped in the trees nearby, and Wels echoed it. Eventually, he began warbling a tune of nothing in particular.

Keloid joined in from behind, supplying a steady beat and chords to Wels’s wandering melody. No words were shared, and Wels couldn’t be happier.

With a feline on his lap and a friend at his back and the babbling waterfall in front of him, Wels drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke, the skylight was dark and all of the light came from the lanterns in the brook and the torches on the ground and trees. Still half asleep, Wels looked around. He normally didn’t spend much time in the animal room at night.

All of the foxes and cats and parrots had gone to bed, sprawled throughout the grass. On the grass beside him was a helmet with a note on top. In the dim light, Wels silently read it.

“This is all that’s done for now. The rest will be done soon. Sleep well and rise bright. -Paladin”

The knight smiled softly at the message. He tucked it into his inventory and set the helmet on his head. Wels drew himself to his feet, and for just a moment, he looked up, gazing at the blurred silhouette of the waxing moon.

Then he started for the door of the animal room. After all, his comfy bed was waiting in his cottage beside the lake.

#im sorry its been so long with out me writing anything #the hyperfixation wavered and i lost motivation #but im back now #wels #keloid #shadow peoplw au #and im still taking prompts!#it just may take me a bit to get to them #anon #my wriitng #prompted

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