#this track was the only thing i knew about dark souls for many years

[ashinaisshin]

Did a transcription of plin plin plon Gwyn, Lord of Cinder from Dark Souls, and the audio here is a mockup of the transcription. I'm pretty sure two players are needed to 1:1 reproduce the original(?), but for convenience I wrote all the parts on one score. (In fact I don't really have a keyboard around to test out the playability/fingering/etc., so this is more like just me trying to write down all the notes lol.)

[dollfacefantasy]

EVERYTHING IN ITS RIGHT PLACE ♡

pairing: yandere!chris redfield x fem!reader

summary: after jill goes missing, chris changes. a lot. you call it controlling, but he maintains it's necessary. the only thing you both agree on is that his devotion knows no bounds.

cw: nsfw (18+), dark fic, smut, dubcon, fingering, predator/prey (chase), kidnapping/captivity, yandere, toxic relationship

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this. it was pretty fun to write and new for me <3

kinktober slot: day 6 - yandere

You're breathing too loud, and you know it. The puffs of air blowing from your lips are too sharp. You need to quiet down. He wasn't that far behind, and there had been no one else in this parking garage. Even someone who couldn't track as well as him wouldn't struggle to find you. If you didn't soften your gasps, he was going to catch you, and then you would be his again.

You clamp your fingers over your lips to silence a cry begging to come out. You're shaking like the dead leaves you can hear his feet crunching over. They'd blown into the cement structure from the crisp fall wind whooshing around. You could tell by the sounds that he was getting closer. 

If you tried to run now, you'd be banking on the hope that you could be faster than him - a hope you weren't so confident in. Getting away from him the first time had been a fluke, you didn't think it would happen again so easily.

Chills erupt over your skin as you stay where you are, crouching behind a black corvette. You try so hard to think of what to do, but it was difficult when your thoughts were screaming about so many different things at once.

One of the main things playing in your psyche on repeat was If I hadn't broken up with him, none of this would've happened.

Of course, that wasn't true, but to your mind that craved freedom above all else in this moment, it seemed plausible.

You and Chris had been together for over a year. He started off normal as could be, and you thought you'd hit the jackpot. He was sweet and kind, hard-working and dedicated. He loved his friends and his job. Spent a lot of his time working out. Everything about him just seemed so ordinary, and that didn't change with the addition of you into his life.

He made room for you as if there'd been a hole in his existence shaped like your soul. 

The two of you went out on dates regularly, he was always there to support you when you needed a shoulder to cry on or a pair of strong arms to lift you up. Truly, he seemed too good to be true. Looking back, you want to say that wasn't the case. He had been good. His kind heart was genuine. It wasn't a mask to hide the darkness underneath. He'd just changed.

It was after his friend Jill had gone missing. Something flipped in Chris. In a way, it was reasonable. Losing a close friend would put a damper on anyone's demeanor. But the way Chris shifted ran deeper than that.

The differences in his personality didn't manifest only in regards to himself. They came out largely in how he treated you. After losing Jill, it seemed that he believed your life was his to control, your choices his to make. He knew what was best for you - he told you as much multiple times. He knew how to dress you so that guys wouldn't try anything. He knew when and where it was acceptable for you to leave the house without him. He knew it was no longer safe for you to drink or even to talk with friends who would suggest such a dangerous activity. Not his girl. You weren't going to be put in harm's way like that.

So you broke up with him. You couldn't take the sting of the Redfield branding iron you felt slowly being pressed to your skin. You wanted out. Unfortunately, breaking up with him was on the list of activities that were strictly prohibited.

You could remember that day like it was yesterday even though it had been multiple months ago.

He didn't let you leave the morning that you'd told him the news of your decision -  didn't even let you make it through the door. Instead he scooped you up like a rowdy puppy that tried to run out the front entryway when it was left ajar. He threw the bag you'd packed back in the closet and tied you to your shared bed.

That bedroom was where you spent most of your time after that. The binding to the corner was long enough that you could get out of bed and reach other parts of that room, but he wouldn't let you roam the house when you were still so insistent that you had to leave him. You only were allowed into the other rooms when he was there to supervise you and ensure your safety.

You tried your hardest to break free, but no amount of screaming and crying, begging and pleading, or kicking and hitting worked. With his size advantage, wrangling you back into submission came easy. That combined with the fact that he knew you. He knew the words to soothe you, the touches that lulled your mind back into a state of complacency.

Tonight was the first time you'd been out of that house in months. 

You'd been so sick for the past week. You weren't even sure how that was possible considering you never go anywhere, but something had managed to infect you. Over the last several days, your temperature shot up and stayed in the triple digits. Everything felt distant and fuzzy.

Chris had been diligently taking care of you, tending to your every need. He made sure you had a steady supply of water and tissues, spoon-fed you broth when you felt like you could eat. As much as he reassured you that this was what he was here for, you could tell the constant attention your condition required took a lot out of him.

Today had been the best day out of the last seven. It seemed like you finally were descending the mountain on the side of recovery. When he fell asleep a few hours ago, he was knocked out. If you needed to get up to use the bathroom or grab a drink, he'd lazily undo your bindings and trudge out to wherever you needed to go, but it was obvious the thought of returning to bed clouded his mind.

The benefit that came with this was that he wasn't so attentive to making sure the restraints were all that secure when he refastened them.

You managed to slip one wrist out and then the other. Your ankles came loose next. You sat there next to his unconscious form, trembling with the terror of the possibility in front of you. Your feet swung off the mattress and hit the ground. Every move was executed with precise caution, the most effort you'd put into anything in your life.

The journey out of the bedroom was easy. You stayed quiet through the rest of the house as well. The hard part came when you managed to get outside. 

You couldn't decide if you should take the car or not.

Walking on foot would be harder. Only clad in a tiny set of pajamas, it wouldn't be comfortable. The car would bring speed and warmth, but you also didn't put it past him to have some sort of tracking mechanism wired into it.

In the end, you had decided to forgo the vehicle. You pulled your coat that you grabbed before leaving tighter around your body and headed down the desolate suburban street.

Your heart pounded in your ears like a countdown to his appearance the whole time. At any second, you expected to hear the sound of his voice or feel his intense gaze upon you. But your surroundings remained quiet, nothing but the wind and occasional scuffle of small creatures lurking in the dark.

As you walked further away from his house and down through the neighborhood, you tried to figure out where to go. You didn't know how much time you'd have before he woke up, and when he did wake up, you had no clue what his exact reaction would be.

You attempted to not overthink that stuff and decided on going to your friend's apartment complex. It'd been months since you'd seen her. You only hoped she'd understand that you didn't have too much time for explaining.

Upon arriving there though, you realized your hopes were meaningless. You knocked on the door, and she answered in seconds, much too quick for someone who should've been asleep at this hour. Her phone was cradled between her shoulder and her ear, and just as the words of explanation were about to leave your mouth, you heard her say "Oh, here she is now... no problem, Chris. See you soon."

Your entire being exploded and came back together in a matter of seconds. Every impulse screamed at you to run, but she was gripping your arm and trying to pull you in her home. Your head was spinning, your fever had returned with a vengeance against you for getting out of bed and walking multiple miles.

It was all so much, especially since you hadn't talked to another human besides Chris in months. You resisted her leading you through the entryway, ignoring her words of concern. Apparently your boyfriend - if you could even call him that still - had explained away your presence over the past few months with stories of a break down. And now, for those who believed him, this was just another episode. Your recovery had been going so well, but everyone hits bumps in the road!

You tried to explain the truth, but it seemed futile. So you ran instead.

All of this still took too long though. By the time you made it down there, his car was screeching to a halt near the entryway.

You push away your memories in favor of paying attention to right now.

This wasn't over yet. You still had a chance. All you needed to do was make it out of here. If you did that, you could make it to a convenience store and call for help. His lies wouldn't work on strangers... would they?

You reassure yourself they wouldn't because it's the only choice you have. There's no other option besides hitching a ride, but you're not banking on that at this time of night in a suburban subdistrict.

Your back presses against the sleek metal of the cold, black corvette. Maybe you could hop the stone barrier edge of the garage and run through the bushes. Trying to sneak around other cars and slip away was another possibility. You try to go through the benefits and detractions of both in your mind, but your illness has your eyes growing heavy and your bones aching to stretch out and just rot.

The footsteps still continue to pound at a steady pace against the asphalt. Lowering yourself to the rough pavement, you peer beneath the car to gauge his location. It's hard to tell with how dark it is. The lighting in this garage wasn't good either. You scan the opposite side for his feet, but you don't find them.

It's only when you turn your head a little to look between the two front wheels that you catch him dashing at your position.

You startle at the sight and whip upright. Now that there's no time left to decide, you bolt for the nearest exit you can see. It feels like you're going fast, but his footsteps sound faster. A sob openly tumbles from your lips now. Everything feels hot. Your vision seems to be going dark at the edges.

Before you can stumble or make it to the opening though, a pair of strong arms wraps around your waist. They pull your body back against a broad chest. Your sob morphs into a scream, and your legs kick fruitlessly at the air in front of you.

"Shh shh shh. You're alright," his deep voice rumbles, "You need to calm down. You're already overworking yourself as is."

"I am not!" you shout in immediate defiance, "Let go of me!"

Your head falls back against his shoulder as hot tears stream down your cheeks. More cries and whimpers echo through the open space of the garage while you try to pry his arm from around your abdomen. Your fists pound on it and your fingers pry, but none of it amounts to anything.

"None of that," he tuts, "No crying or carrying on, or I won't wait until we get home to give you your punishment."

"Just let me go, Chris!" you beg. Your breaths grow ragged as more cries fill the space between them. "You can't do this to me!"

"I'm not doing anything, baby. What am I doing? Taking care of you while you're ill?" he asks. You're not sure if the innocence in his tone intends to mock you or if it's a genuine performance.

"I don't want to go back to the house!" you cry.

"Well, that's too bad, sweetheart. That's exactly where you're going. You need to rest," he says.

"I just need to be away from you!" you scream, loud enough for the shrill sound to bounce between the walls for seconds after.

Your protests dissolve into a harmony of wailing and yelling, every word tinged with anger and betrayal. You still try to peel him off, but your efforts become weaker as you realize how pointless they are.

As if to rub his strength in your face, Chris shifts you around in his grasp. He turns your body and scoops you up, cradling you against his chest. When he reaches his own car, he only uses one arm to hold you in place. You sob against his shoulder, letting your tears soak his collar rather than your cheeks.

His palm smooths up and down your back. "There you go, babydoll," he coos, "Poor thing. You got yourself all worked up. I can feel how high your fever is again."

He opens the driver's door and slides in with you. He starts to scoot your body into the passenger seat, but a sudden burst of energy overtakes your weakened self. You slap at his shoulders and try to shove him to the side to lunge back out the door.

Chris has always had sharp reflexes though. Most of your attacks don't even land, and the ones that do don't seem to affect him. He tightens his arms around your smaller frame and pins you against him. You hear the click of the doors locking, sealing your fate.

"Enough. You're gonna hurt yourself," he commands.

He keeps you nice and secure against him until you seem to have settled for the moment. Then, he tilts your head back so he can study your face.

His eyes sweep over your features while his hand swivels you by your chin.

"I'm really disappointed in you, you know?" he says, his voice much softer than it had been before.

You scowl at him. Like you would care about his fucking approval anymore. You try to shove him away again to crawl into your own seat, but he jerks your head and gets you to go still.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," he says. The firm voice was back.

"I didn't," you dispute, sounding much meeker.

"Don't back talk either," he says. He takes a pause before a frustrated sigh leaves him. "So ungrateful. My little brat. One day you'll learn."

Anger boils inside you again. You can't rein in your arguments.

"No I won't," you say and glare at him, your glossy eyes gleaming with fury, "The only thing I want to learn is how to actually get away from you!"

Rage simmers in his gaze now; though, it's much more muted than your own. His fingers dig into the plush of your cheeks. Not enough pressure to injure but the right amount to ache.

"You think you'd be so much better off on your own? Look at you. Stumbling around in the middle of the night, nothing on but this slutty little thing," he says. His fingers tug at the thin fabric of your shorts and top while his voice grows as cold as the wind outside.

You open your mouth to respond, but he continues speaking.

"I got you no problem tonight! Imagine if it hadn't been me! If it hadn't been someone who loves you! Someone who wants to keep you safe," he presses. It sounds like he's speaking to a soldier in the field rather than someone he claims to feel so tenderly about.

His hands have locked around your biceps during his speech. The pressure of his fingers against your weak skin feels strong enough to create phantom bruises. You squirm in his hold to try and alleviate the feeling.

"I don't care! None of this would've happened if you weren't so crazy in the first place," you whimper.

"I'm crazy? That's how you say thank you for the hours I take out of my life to provide for you. To care for you," he growls.

"I didn't ask you to do any of that!" you cry.

"You didn't need to," he says. 

He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes and calming himself down for a moment. His fingers release their iron grip on your arms and soothe the skin with a few gentle rubs.

"I know you're not thinking straight because of your fever," he says. It sounds like he's speaking to both you and himself. "You've been so good for me lately... maybe punishment isn't what you need."

You stay silent and watch him, attempting to discern what would come next. Right now, escape wasn't the priority. You'd missed tonight's chance for that. Avoiding further reprimand took current precedent.

His hands massage the muscles he had been squeezing before they rise up to cup your face. You meet his gaze with trepidation in your own.

"I should've been paying more attention," he says, "It's not your fault you're acting out. My sweet little baby. Your head is probably hurting you so much, and I know you're feeling extra tired."

He brings the back of his hand to your forehead, tutting when he feels the heat emanating from there. You grit your teeth and fight the urge to actually roll your eyes. Part of you hated when he spoke like that. But an even bigger part of you hated the part that didn't.

"I should have known you'd be extra fussy. Especially since you're all pent up," he continues.

Your teary eyes flicker with curiosity but then narrow in response to that last statement.

The expression brings a smile to his face, as if something is cute. But to him, you suppose that's all you are. Most days you don't know what you want to believe - that Chris has truly lost it and considers all this a genuine kindness to you or if he's just as mentally in-tact as before, only without a care for your feelings. It's hard to tell which is more likely, and you can't say you have a strong preference for either.

One of his thumbs strokes back and forth across your wet cheek. "Don't give me that look, princess," he chides lovingly.

"I'm not being fussy," you say, the word rolling off your tongue with disgust, "And I'm not pent-up."

He chuckles and gives you a light bounce on his lap, your back bumping the bottom ridge of the steering wheel. "Now, what did I say about back talk?"

You make a sound close to a growl and glare at him. Your brain tries to formulate any words that wouldn't result in this kind of patronizing response, but none come to mind.

Originally, you had anticipated that if he caught you again, you'd be in for the punishment of a lifetime. But now, sitting here in his lap and staring into those brown eyes, you realize this is much more in tune with the Chris you've come to know over the last few months.

"You can act like you're not frustrated, baby, but I know you. I know how much you need some regular release," he teases.

"That's not why I'm upset!" you say, trying not to explode into a sobbing mess again. 

This was the point in your arguments where you usually broke down. He acted so confident in his assertions that you felt like the ground on which you stood to defend your own crumbled beneath you. It was easier to just give in sometimes, but that fact just agitated you even more.

More tears well in your eyes while the words rising in your throat start to tangle into an angry, ugly mess. But before you get the chance to burst, he jumps in, hushing and cooing.

"I know, honey. I know it's not the only reason. I'm sure you have some other things bothering you," he reassures, "But I'm just saying, it doesn't help that my poor, sick baby hasn't been able to cum in a week, hm?"

You want to scream in his face and claw his throat out, but instead, your forehead drops against his shoulder. You're so fucking tired in every possible way. You're tired from this illness beating down on every one of your cells. You're tired of the way he reduces all your feelings down to silly little complaints. And you're tired because you actually haven't been able to cum in a week, but that doesn't make him right or everything else invalid.

His question receives no answer, but that's good enough for him. With your head down, you can't see the smile spreading on his face. The only hint of his satisfaction you get is the hand rubbing up and down your back.

"It's ok. I'm here. There's no need to be upset. We all make mistakes, sweet baby,"  he whispers.

You want to tell him that this wasn't a mistake. That the first time you left wasn't a mistake either. The greatest mistake you'd ever made in your life was giving him your number in the first place. But what's the point? All of that will be watered down to feverish words that you don't really mean. 

Cynical numbness settles in your chest like a weight. For right now, you decide it would be in your best interest to just play along.

You nod and snake your arms around his body, pulling yourself closer.

"That's my good girl," he coos, "How bout I make you feel all better and then get you home and tucked in bed, warm and safe?"

You nod weakly, every word siphoning more of your energy away.

He pecks your heated forehead and slides his left hand down your body. His palm rubs over your side and hip, taking his time to reach the point of attraction. As much as you despise him, it still feels good in the moment. You take what you can get, in your constant stream of disappointments, you let him tending to you like this feel like a win.

His fingers tuck below the elastic band of your shorts. They slide down to your center, rubbing through the folds. He shifts you closer so you can rest against his chest.

"My poor baby," he croons for what feels like the billionth time, "You're so hot. We'll have to get you all cooled down at home."

You just nod again. For now, you'd just let your mind shut off while the pleasure coursed through your veins.

The tip of his middle finger twirls around your clit, circling the little bud to tease some arousal out of you. He knows just how to flick it, the perfect amount of pressure to get your toes curling.

Your legs tighten up a bit as the muted tingle blossoms into a deeper burn of desire. A little moan sounds from your mouth throughout the car. He smirks and slips his digits down through the collecting wetness.

With his fingers all slippery, he rubs them over your throbbing bundle of nerves. He works even more pretty noises out of you and amps up the feeling in your belly.

"This is just what you needed, I should've known," he whispers, "Your silly little head doesn't know what to do when it gets all frustrated. So many thoughts and no relief."

You whimper and bite your lip. Even though you're letting it happen, humiliation still has its barbs in your lungs. You turn your face against his shoulder, hiding the way it scrunches against the fabric of his shirt.

Oftentimes, he'd make you look at him again, but tonight, he allows the difference. His fingers keep toying with your clit, rubbing it in tight tiny circles.

"'m not gonna stick my fingers in you right now. Think that's too much for my sick baby," he informs you, as if you had asked for anymore.

This was fine. You can't remember the last time you actually craved more from Chris. He was so attentive nowadays, his presence and care often felt smothering.

You don't rock your hips or move at all beyond a few involuntary squirms. There wasn't really any room for it. Moaning was embarrassing enough, you didn't want your ass to accidentally honk the horn or something. That and he's doing more than enough to get you there by himself. You can already feel the start of your finish beginning to take root.

Your noises grow higher pitched, more muffled too because you press your face into his shoulder hard. The thick fabric of his sweater works well as a self-imposed gag.

"You're so cute," he coos, "My needy little baby. You're gonna sleep good tonight."

You whine in response. Your body tenses up in his lap as you suck in a few harsh breaths. The edge was right around the corner.

"Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. You can do it," he whispers.

Your fingers clutch the fabric at his back so hard it's in danger of tearing. Now your hips buck a little as you reach the finish line. They jerk back and forth but press more into his stomach rather than the wheel behind you.

Tremors rack through you, making you quiver violently in his grasp. You cling to him for a sense of stability, and that brings him pleasure almost as great as any you're experiencing.

As you start to come down, you feel like your body is melting on top of his. He holds you there in his lap for a few minutes after, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

When he deems you calm enough, he boosts you up and situates you in the passenger's seat. He strokes your head before buckling you up.

"We'll get you a change of clothes before you go to bed. I know those pretty panties are soaked through," he says and pinches your cheek.

[kingaegond]

Michael Gavey x The girl with agoraphobia (part 1)

Part 1:

-Vacuous

-Do you mean shallow?

-

The red envelope was flushed under her single room door. Fuck not again. Not another one.

She opened the red envelope, inside, an expensive cream paper with the following message:

'You know where.

You know when.

You are invited.

Show up ;)'

She put the paper back into the envelope and put the red envelope next to the black one and the blue one and the green and the yellow one...

She had lost track of Felix's invitations. To be completely honest, she didn't know why she kept getting invited, I mean she knew but still.

Her dad and Felix's mum Elspeth had gone to the same school and knew eachother since very young, that before Elspeth went to uni and got married, and before her father got into his political career.

It was probably Elspeth idea to invite her, she just didn't know why Felix went along with it, he could just lie and tell his mum he send the invite. Why actually invite her? She caught herself overthinking. Of course, something so simple as an invitation and her head was already spinning with thoughts.

She went to the bathroom to wash her hands and get herself ready for the day. After that, she got into Math class just a few minutes late, her overthinking had made her late. She sat at the back as far from the others as she could and on the other side of the classroom, also at the back was the guy with his hand raised: Michael Gavey. Fuck, how did he know all the answers so quick?

The class went on and she almost fell sleep, boring as it was. She was a politics major and she couldn't care less about politics. It was just what her father wanted for her so she just went along with it. Perhaps I should find somehing I actually like. She was, again, overthinking, when someone's face completely clouded her vision: Gavey. Such blue eyes, if only I could get your glasses so I could see them well.

-Hey, hey.

-Yes... what?

-We're a pair, for the paper?

Her face blank.

-The proffesor said the 2 in the back?

-Ah sure

-Well, if you don't mind I can just do it and put your name on it. It will be faster.

She felt a little aggravated by his proposal, but one less thing on her plate couldn't hurt.

-Hmm. If you're sure, cool. Just tell me if you need any help i guess.

With that, she quickly picked up her backpack and went outside the class. Michael Gavey was left a bit dumbfounded.

-

At night, she was thinking about going to the party. Well we both know how that went the las time. As in 5 years ago. Get over it hun!. Nah we shouldn't risk it. Who needed people when you had such many voices in your head?

To avoid them, to avoid herself, she went to the library.

Surely, no one would be in the library on a friday night, much less on a Felix's Friday Festivity.

Wrong.

Sitting there, with a dark red swether, Michael Gavey sat near the window reading something.

Ok, I just wanted to be alone.

She went to another aisle in the library and sat alone near a window, finally at peace. She left her backpack on a chair and went to get a book she had been wanting to read.

Shit it's too tall! Fuck!

She tried to find the small wodden stair but it was nowhere to be found so she just tried to climb the bookshelves and get the book.

Bam!

Shit! Ouch!

She fell with no serious injuries, perhaps a bruised ego for the lack of completition of such unimportant task and then.

-Are you ok?- Michael's voice was softer, almost a whisper, even though there were no souls on the library apart from the two of them.

-Umm, yeah.

-Wait, you're bleeding.

Sure enough, there was a small gash on her arm.

-Do you wanna go to the infirmary? Do you want me to take you there?- he said very slowly.

-I didn't hit my head you know, just... I mean it's probably empty. Perhaps even the nurse is at Felix's party or something- A small laught scaped her lips.

-Were you invited?

She was figuring out how to tell him that she...

-It's alright. I haven't either... - He continued answering his own question- Who wants to be with them anyway? Vacuous cunts...

-You mean shallow?

-Hmm, yeah. Are you sure you don't want to go to the infirmary?

-Actually, there's somewhere I want to go.

I will go and tell Felix to stop sending me invitations. Yes! It sounds like a good idea!

Perhaps she had hit her head after all.

She stoop up.

-Care to join?

The injury had made her particularly talkative and particularly active.

-

Michael didn't know where she wanted to take him, but something inside him wanted to say yes. Perhaps morbid curiosity. Perhaps something else. But just like a few moments ago, he had convinced himself to help her, he had convinced himself to join her now.

-Where are we going?

-Felix's- she said with a wicked smile.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

❄️To Run Afoul of Winter❄️

(Not my Gif.)

Request by: @unstablereader

Title: To Run Afoul of Winter

Word Count: 12,000

Warnings: Casual violence, some language, seasonal depression, segmented flashbacks.

Summary: In your human life you had been born a cripple - a frail, feeble little thing barely clinging to life. It was a miracle you survived long enough to join your siblings in becoming the first vampires. Bouts of what your family called Frost-Sickness kept you bed ridden each winter and despite your twin brother's efforts to cheer you up, life just hardly seemed worth living. When you turned, your body grew stronger, but so did your mental affliction. This is your story. || Mikaelson Family x sibling!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: This was written in like two days of an absolute writing frenzy. I know the request would have preferred Klaus to be the reader's twin but I just couldn't figure that out in my brain. Sorry! I hope you like it anyway. Also, one more thing. This fic is the first official fic of Cassie's Christmas at the Compound 2022 which I'll be kicking off later today as I was too lazy to do it on Dec. 1st. Thanks for being here and supporting my writing. Happy reading!

❄️STORY BEGINS BELOW❄️

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: December 21st, 998 A.D.

"Sister?" You recognized the speaker instantly - you always had and you always would. Just as one always recognizes their own reflection, you could never forget the voice of your other half. 

You didn't say anything in reply, offering a soft hum instead. You didn't feel much like talking.

"We're lighting the bonfires," He continued. "Come along now before you miss all the fun!"

That wasn't really what he'd said all those years ago. No, your native language had long since been lost to time, morphing into a variety of tongues since then. You and your siblings were likely the only ones in the world who still knew it in its pure form - not that you spoke it anymore. You hadn't spoken your native language in so long, not even with each other. There was something lonely about it and the lot of you were already so alone.

Especially you. After all, what did you have besides dreams to keep you company in your most quiet estate? But that was beside the point.

"Really?" You lifted your head from the pile of skins that made up your bed. "They're starting so soon?" 

Standing in the doorway, the boy’s dark eyes widened in alarm that quickly faded into concern. "Y/N…" He began cautiously. "What day do you think it is?"

You had thought about that. Of course, you should have known something so trivial yet so vital to your livelihood but keeping track of the days seemed like such an exhausting chore. Akin to many things lately.

"Is it not eleven days to winter?" You asked, tilting your head. Then again, the village was lighting bonfires… but no, you couldn't have been Frost Sick for seventeen days! That was absurd.

Your twin's lips pressed into a thin line - they did that when he was worried and that was how you knew it must have been serious. For Kol son of Mikael was so rarely a worried soul.

The boy shook his head. "Y/N, it's the first day of Year's End - of bonfire season…" His voice thinned, close to breaking. "The harvest is plentiful, the moon is waning, and Odin smiles upon us. Can you not abate the sickness but one evening? Will you not join us?" He entreated you. "Will you not join me?" And oh how your twin had cherished the season so. Always first to cast his wish into the flames, always the first to dance, always the first to smile and laugh like the boy he had been so long, long ago. 

You didn't want to disappoint him, but you felt so weak. The chill of the evening air pricked at your skin and bones, threatening to sink into your very soul. "I-I don't-"

"Please, sister? Bring your blankets with you if you must, just please come celebrate?" Your brother begged. His eyes were once wide with innocence, love, concern, and yearning. His eyes didn't look like that anymore. For long since had darkness shrouded them, rendering their pine-bark depths as hollow and empty as this memory that you sought comfort in. The boy standing before you in your dream was naught but an illusion. Your twin had perished in the dark, alone and frightened, in years left to history long since forgotten. 

And the creation that had taken his place?

You weren't entirely sure who he belonged to. For certainly he was your sweet, fun-loving, intuitive brother often enough but from time to time the bloodlust consumed him entirely and that creature was not one you recognized. He was not your twin.

Just so with all your siblings, if you were honest. They all had faded away - shells of the family you knew and adored. Animosity had grown between each of them. All except you. 

"Y/N?" His voice called to you again. Oh, how you missed the innocence in it. 

You lifted your head, clutching your blankets as you stood on frail, trembling, legs. "Coming! I'm coming, brother." 

The boy grinned and raced out the door. You followed him eagerly despite your limp. Passing under the arched doorway of your family's hovel, you found the scene outside blurred and out of focus. You blinked and your vision sharpened, although now you were no longer standing just outside your home. 

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: October 31st, 988 A.D.

You were kneeling on a patch of frost-covered grass in front of a pile of wood stacked haphazardly. Kol knelt beside you and the sky overhead was bleak and gray.

"Show me again, brother," You demanded, buzzing with excitement, though you couldn't quite remember what for. "Please show me it again? I want to see."

"Y/N, you know father hates it," He said, frowning.

"Father isn't here and I won't tell him," You argued. "Please, Kol?"

"I don't know…"

Your voice quieted. "You're the only one that can help me," You insisted. "The Frost Sickness tugs at the edges of my mind even now. Your light is the only thing that keeps it at bay."

"Alright," He conceded with a sigh. "Just don't let it touch the firewood."

You nodded eagerly and held out your hands. Kol rubbed his own together vigorously before moving them close to his lips. 

"Incendia," He whispered. A spark burst in the air before his lips with a splitting crack and before long, bright orange flames leaped between his fingers. Some in your village whispered that Kol was cursed but you didn't believe them. Your brother was blessed by Frigga with the gift that was magic and he was brilliant in his craft. The boy grinned and glanced up at you. His eyes seemed lighter then, like a sunset. "Ready?" 

"Yes," You breathed, still in awe of your brother's magic. This was not the first you'd seen of it but it still amazed you all the same. "Yes, I'm ready."

Kol offered you another sweet smile. Shuffling a little closer, he gathered the fire in his hands before tilting them and letting it pour into your waiting palms. The flames flickered and danced, licking your fingers as they sent wave after wave of warmth radiating through your body and soul. You sighed. The magical fire burned away the creepings of your Frost Sickness, postponing it a little longer. You were lucky to have a twin like Kol for only the flames of his witchcraft could assist you with your illness.

You memorized his face then, the innocent, joyous, impishly youthful smile on his cheeks and in his eyes cast in the warm glow of the fire held in your palms. He hadn't smiled like that in so long. So, so long.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: March 31st, 989 A.D.

Left to your reverie only a moment, the scene before you shifted once again. It was spring, glorious spring all around you. The flowers were in bloom, the trees burst with leaves, and you were once again awake - wide awake. Crossing a bubbling brook with the confident leaps of a small child, undeterred by your bad leg, you admired the beauty of the moss-covered stones you employed as your bridge before continuing on to explore the forest. 

Along with having been born frail, you had also been born with a bad leg. The bones were a little misshapen and it couldn't support your weight. Ayana - the village's healer and foremost practitioner of magic, had fashioned you a splint to help you walk, and you had since refused to let it slow you down. Niklaus had carved for you a walking stick for balance and though you couldn't run, you could skip with the proficiency of a stone on a smooth lake. You danced between the trees as you chased a beautiful butterfly through the brush when a nearby shout brought you to a swift halt.

"Y/N!" That was the voice of your eldest brother, Finn. He didn't sound very pleased. Although, then again, Finn was rather easy to upset. 

"Be gentle, Finn." A different voice chastened. Elijah. "Y/N! Come out, little one!"

This, of course, only prompted you to duck behind a tree to hide as the footsteps of your brothers drew ever nearer. 

"Y/N!" Finn called again, attempting to sound a little less stern. "I swear, that child and her tvíburi are creations of Loki."

"You had best hope not," Elijah advised. "If either of them grow to be any more clever or cunning, then I fear we'll never be able to find them." 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips at his statement as you were rather flattered by his praise. Their footsteps began to fade a moment later and you peered out from your hiding spot to check.

"GOTCHA!" Without warning, two arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air. You shrieked in surprise but soon began to laugh as you realized that it was Elijah who had captured you. He smiled warmly. "Hello, little one."

"How did you find me?" You wined, pouting a little. 

"Simple," Finn supplied. "We merely listened for the sound of complete disobedience and followed that."

Elijah sighed. "Finn…"

"No, brother. She needs to be taught," Finn said. He rounded on you again. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have gotten lost! You could have died!"

"B-but I was chasing pretty butterfly," You whimpered, beginning to tear up. 

"I don't care what you were doing!" Finn shouted. "Do you know what a wolf would do if it found you? Or Odin forbid - a bear? It would have-"

"Enough, Finn!" Elijah demanded. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" Your eldest brother argued. "Is she too young to understand the danger her frailty will bring to all of us? You know how mother worries about her. Tell me, Elijah - look at her! Is she not so very light to carry?"

"She is but a child," Elijah sighed. He knew Finn spoke the truth. You had been born small. Even now, you were hardly more than half the weight of your twin brother. 

"Rebekah is younger and yet she is heartier still and more stable on her feet." Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You and Niklaus were always so fond of her. But how long do you really think Y/N will last - afflicted as she is? By tradition, Father should have left her to the gods."

You did not understand his words at the time. But no matter what Finn said, you weren't afraid. Finn liked to worry - he never wanted you to do anything - but Elijah, you knew, would always protect you. Nothing bad would ever happen as long as Elijah was there. And even as a child, you knew he always would be.

Elijah stood up a little straighter. "He tried if you recall. He left her in the woods all the night long but the forest would not take her. A fox and vixen stood guard over her until morning; small as she is, they deemed her worthy."

Finn didn't reply, or if he did, you didn't hear. You were far too busy watching a robin make its nest not far away until Elijah spoke to you again.

"Y/N, might you happen to know where your troublesome tvíburi is?"

"Noooooooo…." You lied. You absolutely knew where he was - you always did.

"I think you do," Elijah coaxed, poking you in the ribs. Giggling, you shook your head.

"I don't, though."

"He's probably attempting to burn one of our neighbor's homes to the ground," Finn suggested with a sigh.

Elijah sent you a questioning look and you shook your head again. 

"No!"

"Or torturing some innocent animal…"

"No, we're doing that tomorrow."

"Or hiding everyone's left boot…"

You giggled. Now, that was a fond, fond memory. It took Sven two days to find his boot and by that time he already had a foot full of splinters.

"Or putting worms in someone's pillow - likely mine…"

"Couldn't find any worms - they're still sleeping," You replied with a shrug.

"Or-"

"Alright! I'll tell you!" You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. "But don't tell Father."

"You have my word," Elijah promised before Finn could say anything. Your eldest brother had some annoying traits but he wouldn't make a liar out of Elijah. 

"Kol is making protection wards for Henrick and for everyone so bad things won't happen to us," You informed them in a whisper - this was a secret after all.

"Why is he making them, little sister?" Elijah wondered. 

You just shrugged. "I know not. He said something about having a bad dream last night."

"I see, and what's that little miscreant got you doing?" Finn asked. 

"Picking berries," You answered simply. Elijah let you down and you took each brother by the hand as they began walking back towards the village. 

"Berries? Why?" 

"Snacks!" You chirped. Then you tugged on their hands. "Swing me!" You commanded, bringing your knees up. Finn rolled his eyes but both your siblings caved to your demands, swinging you back and forth between them as they walked you home.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: November 10th 1000 A.D.

When the world shifted yet again, you were met with a familiar blackness. The furs of your bed brushed over your skin and the midsummer night was warm and wet though the cool draft breezing through the cave made it rather pleasant. Light from the full moon shone down through a crack in the ceiling overhead but you didn't mind - you liked the nightlight. The rustling of blankets sounded on your right and before long, the dark outline of one of your siblings was creeping its way toward the mouth of the cave. You sat up and pursued as silently as you could in spite of your limp. Though you tried your best, the walking stick Nik had carved for you clacked against the stone floor, alerting whoever was sneaking out to your presence. Still, you waited until you were out of earshot of the rest of your family to speak up.

"Where are you going?" You hissed into the dark, unsure who was doing the sneaking. The figure froze.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Niklaus's voice whispered back.

You stepped closer. "Nik? What are you up to?"

"Nothing." His response was too quick to be the truth. "Don't worry about it. Just return to your dreams."

"But I do worry about you, Niklaus," You said. "I know you admire the wolves - I can feel your curiosity." You had always been in tune with the thoughts and emotions of those around you. Sensing them came rather naturally to you, just as spellcasting came so easily to Kol. Somehow Niklaus's emotions had always been the most vibrant of all your siblings and his thoughts the easiest to read. It was probably why the two of you were so close.

"Your magic is growing stronger then?" Nik tried to change the subject but you didn't fall for it, knowing what weighed on his mind. You stepped closer, tilting your head.

"You feel like somehow… you belong with them… as if you're meant to be up there running with the pack." Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted into a frown. Your eyes grew unfocused and your voice took on a droning quality. "Running. Yes, running. Running underneath the moon and the stars but not the sun. Running. Yes, running on and on forever… always and forever. Running. Running for eternity. Running wild, running scared, running hungry, running blind. Running cursed. Yes, we'll all be running cursed…"

"Y/N?" Niklaus jabbed your shoulder. When that didn't stop your mumbling, he took hold of your shoulders and gave you a firm shake. "Y/N, snap out of it!"

You blinked, shaking your head. Then you looked up. It wasn't odd for you to have visions. You had quite a few of them while your brother had only ever received maybe one or two. Most were rather mundane or just complete rubbish but every so often you would be privy to a glimpse into the future. This night had been one such time, though you hadn't realized the true extent of your visions' significance. You remembered this night. Yes, you remembered it all too well. It was but one year to the day that your mother cursed you all.

"Niklaus, do you not love me?" You asked suddenly, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"What? Of course, I do!" He insisted. "Why ask such a ridiculous question?"

"Because you feel like you belong with them - with the wolves," You explained. "But I don't want you to be with them. I want you to be here with me… and Finn, and Elijah, and Kol, and Rebekah, and Henrick. I don't want you to go and replace me."

Niklaus smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Oh, sweet little sister… How could I ever replace you?"

"With a dog," You muttered.

He shook his head. "A dog can't find the perfect flowers to make paint out of - not like you can. I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you."

"Then don't sneak out to see the wolves," You pleaded. "They hurt someone tomorrow… or yesterday… I don't know. Can't remember the order. " The events were all jumbled up in your head. Past, present, and future all existed simultaneously and you had no way to distinguish which one was which.

"Did you have a vision?" He demanded. You nodded.

"Things change when you go," You told him. "Wait a little longer? I want one more bonfire season before this era comes to an end."

It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand what your words or your prophecy had meant - you hardly understood them yourself most times and the rest of your siblings stopped trying. Not that it mattered anymore. You no longer had visions, no longer cast spells nor drew wards. It wasn’t long after that night that everything fell apart. Henrick died and your mother cursed your family and everything - everyone - fell apart. 

Finn lost himself to self-loathing. He became as winter itself - cold and distant. Though you tried to reconnect with him, it seemed to you as though that was the last thing he wanted. 

Outskirts of Rome, Italy: May, 18th 1156

It was summer if your recollection served - your recollection of the last moments you spent alone with him before Niklaus decided he was a danger to himself and the rest of you, that was. You had sought him out that afternoon. You were the only one to do so as the rest of your siblings had given up attempting to include him.

But that wasn’t you. 

It was how you and your twin were different. Kol had always been a bit of a flake, however, he was an extremely prudent one, to his credit. He would come at a problem a thousand different ways, but would never try the same solution twice. On the other hand, you liked things simple and direct and knew that sometimes a problem requires tenacity. You just hadn’t been ready to let go of Finn. Abrasive as he was, you loved him.

“Do you mind if I join you, brother?” You asked, having finally found him. He sat leaning against the base of a mighty oak tree at the edge of a summer meadow. The grass was bright green and the sky a brilliant blue - it was your favorite time of the year.

Finn glanced up, his expression unguarded as it was, displaying a lost sort of melancholy. “I suppose you may,” He said. You smiled and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were still so small for your age. Despite having turned eighteen merely a week before Henrick died, your appearance could pass for that of a fifteen-year-old. You looked more like Henrick’s twin than Kol’s.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” You wondered, watching the white puffy clouds drift overhead.

Finn shrugged. “Just… sitting quietly,” He replied. He did this quite often, though you were more inclined to think of it as wallowing in self-pity. Not that you would say that out loud. The last thing Finn needed was more mockery, though your siblings didn’t seem to see that. Finn was a bit more like you it seemed. Your family and village had always called it Frost-Sickness, though as the world developed and greater advancements were made in the realm of medicine, you came to discover in later years that your condition was labeled Seasonal Depression. It was a sickness of the mind rather than the body and saw to it that your moods were more heavily influenced by the weather than those of other people. 

Thus, Finn you figured, must have been a bit like you. Except the rain cloud which hovered over his head was not quite as severe and certainly less predictable. Though it didn’t leave him bedridden as it did you, his bouts of sadness came and went as they pleased and when they came they drew him further and further away from his siblings.

“What about you?” Finn asked, fiddling with a branch he’d picked up off the ground. “Why are you here, sister?”

You shrugged. “Kol can be really loud sometimes,” You said simply. 

Finn hummed his agreement, nodding. “That he can.”

“There are days when I find it impressive,” you admitted, voice pensive. “but today is not one of those days.” You planned to continue adding elements to your reasoning until you won a laugh from him. You were the only one of your siblings who could make Finn laugh. “And then Niklaus joins him and you know how those two get when they drink together so may God have mercy on that poor, poor, tavern -” Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then, bloody hell, I don’t know whose idea it was to invent Pub Archery but let's hope it doesn’t catch on, otherwise Italy will have gained a new sport and we’ll have to listen to those two gloat about it for the rest of the century.”

“Pub Archery?” Your brother questioned, raising a brow.

You nodded. “Indeed.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Well, the rules are dubious at best but from what I can tell, a mug of ale is placed on a table halfway between the wall and wherever the player is standing. A bow and an arrow with a mid-sized hook affixed to the shaft are given to whoever is currently in play. Apparently, Kol has officially dubbed this position “the Arse in Question” - he was very clear about that when explaining the game to me.” You shrugged and continued. “Anyway, the Arse in Question then attempts to send the arrow through the handle of the mug, while doing their best to ensure that the fish hook catches on the handle as the arrow passes through it. Their goal is to lodge the arrow in the wall with the mug of ale still on it. If the mug is still somewhat full by the time the Arse in Question can make his or her way over to it then they are awarded the proper number of points and they have to drink whatever is left. Three points for a full pint, two points for half-full, and one point for a quarter pint. Now if the mug falls off, or the arrow fails to remain in the wall, then the Arse in Question loses five points.”

Finn frowned, slightly confused. “And what if the… bowman were to miss the mug on the table completely?”

“Well, in that case, he takes a shot.”

Your brother rolled his eyes. “When does this game - if it can be called that - end?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “Though, so far I think it may be with whoever is the first to pass out. According to Rebekah, there’s a fifteen-point penalty for fainting, so I’d assume at least competitive play ends after that. I didn’t stick around long enough to inquire further. I value my eyes.”

“Smart decision,” He said with an approving nod. “And does Elijah know of this latest depraved scheme?”

You sent him a look. “Elijah’s the self-appointed referee,” You deadpanned. Your second eldest brother liked to believe he had some maturity and admittedly he had more than you, Kol, Nik, or Bekah, but it really wasn’t much.

“He approves?” Your bother asked in slight disbelief. 

“Elijah’s responsibility is a facade. What is a wall of stone to outsiders, we know to be a bride’s veil,” You said sagely, nodding solemnly. 

And finally, finally, Finn laughed. It had been years since you had heard him laugh. It was a soft chuckle, not much at all, but it was there and you knew better than most that sometimes that’s the best someone can give.

“You make a fine point, little one,” Finn mused, patting your hand. “Would you like me to talk some sense into them?” 

You snorted. “Right. Good luck with that, mikill göltur.” You gestured lazily with a few reeds you had plucked and were now playing with absently. “By all means, go right ahead; although, I must warn you that the aroma of that establishment is a fine shade of brown.”

Your eldest brother grimaced at your description. “I see. In that case, I think I’ll leave Elijah to deal with them.” He leaned back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. 

“You should go see that Sage woman again,” You prompted, entirely out of the blue. It amused you to see the blush that covered your eldest brother’s cheeks at your suggestion. He was fond of her.

“W-what on earth makes you say that?” He sputtered, casting his gaze pointedly to the sky.

“She makes you happy,” You answered, plain and simple. That was who you were, plain and simple. “I like seeing my siblings happy - all of them.” With that, you tossed your creation - a corsage woven from wildflowers - into his lap and hopped to your feet. “Now go see her!” You commanded, nudging his knee with your foot.

He sat up. “Perhaps I will.” 

“Good!” You turned and began to skip away.

“But only if you talk to that blacksmith lad!” Finn called after you. You froze. Whipping around on your heel, you gaped, staring at him with wide E/C eyes. He just shrugged, smug as could be. 

That was the last you saw of your eldest brother. Nik put a dagger in his heart and then there were five.

Now, Elijah on the other hand, was not Finn. They were radically different and Elijah got lost in his own way.

See, Elijah was hungry and he killed Tatia. He killed his love and the grief consumed him. He became so obsessed with somehow making it right as if keeping his hands clean from then on could somehow remove the stain of her blood. You knew what he’d done and you didn’t blame him but through the next hundred years and on it almost seemed to you as though he forgot. It was odd, but you chose not to bring it up; perhaps that was a mistake on your part. So it was that instead of drawing away from you and your siblings, Elijah drew closer. He viewed it as his responsibility to watch over the family and keep everyone together. What Elijah could not see, however, was that some things are simply fated to fall apart.

Somewhere Off the Coast of Cadiz, Spain: June 22nd, 1730

Five hundred years after you spoke to Finn beneath that tree in Italy, you found yourself in front of Elijah in the somewhat damp confines of a cargo hold in a ship just off the coast of Cadiz, Spain. Behind him stood two caskets and inside one of them was your twin brother, immobilized and in excruciating agony. You could practically feel the dagger in your own chest yet Elijah refused to let you free him. 

“Move aside, Elijah!”

“I’ve said no and my answer is final,” Your brother repeated. “Kol will remain as he is until such a time as Father is half the world behind us. Only then will we risk reviving him.”

“That’s not fair!” You argued.

“Oh I do believe it is,” He countered, crossing his arms and looking down at you. He was much taller than you were. “It was Kol’s mass slaughter in Cadiz that led Father right to us and clearly nothing you or I have said to him has made an impact.This was never my first course of action, Y/N. But until you should devise some other more prudent method to disway your brother from devouring the entire town, I’m afraid this is how things must be. He. Must. Learn. Control.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, long since tired of his condemnations and hypocrisy - intentional or not. “He’s our brother and for the millionth time, Elijah: That’s not the problem! It’s not his fault if he can’t control it, because you lot have never given him a reason to!”

“That is preposterous and you know it,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Do I?” You demanded. “It’s always you, Rebekah, and Niklaus. That Always and Forever pact - that was you three. It wasn’t us! I knew that you would make it before you did and yet nether of us were a part of it! Whenever the three of you do something, you never think to invite him along. The few times you and Nik actually ask all of us to vote on a decision, you don’t give our opinions half the weight you give to Rebekah’s.” 

Elijah frowned and held up a hand to stop you. “That is not remotely true. I view each-”

“No, you don’t,” You hissed, fighting the tears pooling in your eyes. “You hardly even notice us when we’re in the room with you, unless one of us is shouting and if either of us leaves, you might as well forget we exist entirely! I remember one time when Kol just up and left - said he was going to catch one of the bloody crusades.” You laughed but there wasn’t much humor in it. “He was gone for five and a half months and you didn’t even notice!”

“I did notice, actually.”

You glared at him. “I distinctly recall you commenting about how quiet it was one morning, after he’d been away three months. I told you he left. You were surprised and then you went right back to your book; you didn’t even ask where he’d gone!”

“I suppose I would have if such a question mattered, but unfortunately, Kol can look after himself,” Elijah said in disdain. You were aware that Elijah had carried a grudge towards Kol since the day the two of you were born. Though he’d never said it out loud, he’d always thought of your twin as a leach because he’d been born strong and you had been so frail. “He excels at it.”

“Because you don’t care to do the job!” You exclaimed. “You discount our opinions and refuse to see either of us as anything more than children. I mean, you hardly so much as look at me unless I’m attempting something you deem too dangerous. I hardly dare speak to a boy, even if he’s naught but a servant, lest I ensure that Niklaus shall orchestrate some awful accident to befall the poor lad. Both me and Kol - you see us only as another burden you bear and you ignore any attempt we make to change your mind.”

Aside from Kol, all your siblings had always seen you as weak and in need of protection - Elijah most of all. His eyes narrowed and he looked over you with scrutiny. 

“Always so quick to defend him,” He huffed. “If what you claim is true, then how have you mastered the control he so completely lacks?”

“It’s different for me,” You insisted. “My magic was different.”

“How was it different?” 

You bit your lip, mulling over your answer. You wanted to get this right, wanted to make him understand that the bloodthirsty monster he condemned was merely a prison and that your sweet, bubbly twin brother was locked somewhere deep inside. 

“My magic was more constant, I think,” You started, speaking slowly. “You must understand brother, magic wasn’t just something Kol and I did; it was something we were, it was a part of us, but I think we each felt it in a different way. He was so good at spell casting - at manifesting his very will into reality. I was always better at seeing, sensing, feeling, and just knowing the thoughts and emotions of everyone - everything - around me. My magic was a blanket, a quiet comforting reassurance that I wasn’t alone and that nature was looking out for me.” That loss still weighed on your soul every single day. You sighed but continued anyway, “But for Kol I think it was more like water. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for him, I think magic meant that there was always something he could do to fight back.”

“Fight back?” He questioned. Your expression grew grim, eyes darkening. 

“Against Father,” You said. “You know Father hated Niklaus most but Kol was always the next he would hit. Magic wasn’t a luxury for Kol - it was his survival. When he first tapped into it, our brother knocked Mikael flat on his ass - Kol earned Father’s respect. For him magic was a thrill, a lightning excitement, power, and reassurance, both a sword and a shield, and a bonfire wish - it was everything. It was like water - and like water, its absence consumes him. He tells me often now that it’s much too quiet. He can’t stand the silence - the vulnerability maddens him. He didn’t mean to bring Mikael upon us… He fears father more than you know.”

“And you do not?” Elijah challenged, regarding you strangely. Again you thought about your answer. 

“No,” You decided after a moment. Your brother frowned, shaking his head. 

“You are not such a fool as that, lítil víx,” He said with a disapproving gaze. He called you little vixen - the fox’s, smaller, swifter, and wiser counterpart. 

He turned to leave the cargo hold, knowing you would not disobey him, but you whipped around and caught his sleeve.

“I do not fear him as much as I once did,” You amended, looking your brother dead in the eyes. “Father fears death, he always has though I did not see it then. Knowing that what he fears is so common, so natural, and so inevitable a thing, my fear of him has dwindled. I think I more pity him now than I fear him. For how very sad it is that he hunts us with no other purpose than to destroy that which reared into being. How very sad it is that he disregards the exuberant beauty all around him in favor of his hatred. How very sad indeed.”

Your second eldest brother blinked, taking a moment to completely process what you’d said. “I suppose you’re right,” He said slowly, nodding. Then he frowned. “Do you not fear death, Y/N?”

You smiled softly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You glanced towards the coffin that would imprison your twin brother for far, far, too long. “But I do not fear it as Mikael did, nor as Esther did. I anticipate it, I think. I anticipate it as one anticipates the surprises a new day might bring. Good or bad - it’s a new experience; though it shall certainly be nice to be free of the Frost-Sickness, I think. However that may be.”

Your brother considered your words but you knew they would not change his mind. For your family was frozen in body and mind and that was how you would remain for the rest of eternity. You were as eighteen then as you’d been one hundred years before… Well, perhaps you were slightly more. Each year only seemed to make you stronger, faster, sharper, and more eighteen. Time was the seal of your mother’s spell. Immortality polarized.

“I know you miss him, Y/N,” Elijah said with a heavy sigh. “But this is for the best.” 

You hung your head and nodded, allowing the tears in your eyes to spill down your cheeks freely for a little while. Your older brother reached out and brought you into his embrace, letting you cry as long as you needed. “Then I have just one request, if you’ll grant it,” You proposed, voice chipping like the stained glass windows of cathedrals you so dearly loved. 

“What is it, little one?”

“Don’t wake him while I’m sleeping?” You sniffed. “I don’t want him to be sad.”

“You have my word, lítil víx,” He promised.

Then there were four. 

It wasn’t that you forgave Elijah. No, that would take time. Rather you simply could never bring yourself to hate any of your siblings. Not even Niklaus. As much pain as he caused, as much terror as he sewed, and as much paranoia as he reaped, you could never bring yourself to hate your dearest artist. Bastard, hybrid, abomination - none of those labels ever phased you because he was still the quiet, loving brother who painted you flowers when you were Frost-Sick. 

It didn’t matter to you that he had killed your mother.

You loved him anyway.

London, England: October 16th, 1702

“I see your skill with a brush is improving, Nik!” You declared, flouncing into the second-floor study that your brother had commandeered as his studio. “You have perfectly captured the Siberian tundra. Congratulations. Though, your depiction might have been better had you simply left the canvas as you found it.” You smirked to yourself, rather satisfied with your wit, as you reclined in the overstuffed chair you dragged into the room behind you.

Niklaus let go of a long sigh and returned the brush he was working with to a basin of water he kept beside him. When he spoke, he did not turn to address you.

“May I ask what I did to warrant myself deserving of such bite from my littlest sister?” He asked, calm and fluid. He wasn’t in a good mood - you could tell. Thus you wanted to stay all the more. Perhaps you could cheer each other up. 

“I am not even that short,” You stated. Niklaus tossed a different brush, still covered in paint, over his shoulder, aimed for your face. You lept to dodge it with a giggle. “Secondly, it’s the season - I simply can’t help it.”

It was autumn in the city of London and the year was 1702, only a hand full of years before your family relocated to Cadiz and then later, New Orleans. Autumn was a difficult time of year for you as it was when the Frost-Sickness began to take hold. It had only grown worse since your transition into a creature of the night, just as everything about you had been enhanced. Though the Frost-Sickness could no longer afflict you with illness as it had when you were human - keeping you bedridden or even unconscious for days or weeks at a time - it could now do arguably worse. 

As autumn came, you could feel your mind and body begin to weaken. You felt frayed and tired and uncomfortable in a body that had for too long remained unchanged. You felt the loss of your magic so much more keenly and the loneliness that caused was far too acute. As the season wore on, it would only grow worse until you knew only misery. At that point, the silver daggers Niklaus had kept seemed like mercy, and without Kol’s magic to keep your head above water, you had willingly begged for their employ. They were your only escape from the pain that came with winter.

“Oh, how tragic,” Klaus remarked. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Where’s your twin?”

“On a bender,” You deadpanned.

Nik huffed. “Figures. Go annoy him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to entertain you.”

You gasped in full shock. “Nik! How could you say that?”

“Simple. I pass air between my lips - like this!” He twisted around and stuck his tongue out at you.

You continued, unbothered. “I do not annoy, brother. I berate. There’s a difference.” 

“An impressive distinction, to be sure.”

“And yes, I am sure Kol would love to entertain me if he were not otherwise preoccupied entertaining someone else.” 

Klaus groaned. “What’s he done now and do I need to dagger him for it?”

“Please don’t make me think about it longer than necessary, but no.” You frowned, shuddering. 

“Now you have to tell me,” Your older brother grinned.

“I’m pretty sure he’s endevoring to sleep with the entire female population of London.”

“...Wow.”

“Indeed.”

He whistled and returned to working on that painting of his. “Well, you have to admire his audacity if nothing else,” Nik chuckled. 

You made a noise that was certainly anything but ladylike, followed by a gesture that was far worse. “I absolutely do not have to admire any aspect of him!” You exclaimed. You had hoped Klaus would have been just slightly more decent - if only for the sake of propriety. “He may be a strumpet of a man, but I am not. I am a lady.”

“I don’t see why this upsets you so,” He hummed, shaking his head. 

You huffed. “Because unfortunately, I am also his genetic copy. Therefore - technically speaking - if he’s slept with them, then I’ve slept with them! Which, admittedly, wouldn’t bother me if this were not the absolute bloody cesspool that is the bloody city of London!”

You’d expected him to laugh, and he did just a little bit, but it wasn’t nearly what you wanted. Dirty jokes almost always cheered Nik up and hearing him laugh never failed to make you laugh. Peering over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of gray fur. He was painting wolves again. 

“Must be nice,” He mused a while later, having left you to silence for over a half hour.

“What?”

“Having a twin as you do,” He explained, voice wistful and far away. “Having someone you belong with completely, a reflection of yourself you know could not betray you nor abandon you any than the sea can abandon the shore. Must be nice.”

“Its not all bliss,” You reminded him, sitting up in your chair. “Kol still agrivates the living daylights out of me.”

“Such is the nature of being Kol.”

You nodded but said nothing, allowing him a moment with his thoughts before you asked the question he so desperately wanted to hear. “What’s wrong Niklaus?”

He sighed, though it sounded broken.

“Do you ever miss our mother, Y/N?” He asked.

You stilled. Out of all your siblings, you were the only one who knew what Niklaus had done. How he had murdered your mother. You had received visions of the moment throughout your life but particularly often in the months before it occurred. He didn’t know. You had never told him.

“Why ask me that, brother?” You returned, tilting your head.

“Because I want to know if this grief that still weighs so heavy on my soul is mine own fault or her’s.” He eyed you with a flat stare and you nodded, pressing your lips together. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you didn’t think your answer was one he would like. 

“I loved our mother dearly,” You eventually decided to say after a few beats of silence had passed between you. “But I do not miss her as you do.”

Nik’s voice trembled and the paintbrush clutched in his fist snapped. 

“Why?”

You smiled thinly. “Because I knew her as you do not.”

Your brother glanced up, meeting your eyes with an expression that demanded you explain yourself. You sighed heavily. It was time to come clean.

“I know what you did, Nik.”

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm and terror.

“I know you killed her.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad.”

He drew in a sharp breath, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of guilt, relief, and confusion.

“How? W-why?” He choked out, unable to grasp the concept you’d laid in front of him.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” You said, smiling as though it was as simple as the words would imply. “Esther loved all of us in her own way, but that was not how a mother should. She loved the idea of children but the reality was more difficult than she had predicted and she struggled to understand her place, I think. Esther was barren, you see. She tapped into some very dark rituals to change that. Thus, we are all products of dark magic and such things so rarely receive a generous fortune from the spirits of nature. So we were all damned from the start, I think.” Pulling yourself to stand on legs that were still so frail, you wandered over to a side table and picked up the brush that rested upon it. You began moving it through your H/C hair in careful strokes. “In the end, Mother paid the price for her selfishness, I suppose. I don’t blame you. I cannot blame you, Niklaus lest I blame myself equally because that woman never loved any of us enough to save our souls and for that, I am simply unable to forgive her. I may never be able to.”

Tears slipped down your brother’s face. “But she loved you. I know she loved you most of all,” He said, through gritted teeth. 

You nodded, huffing a slight laugh. “That she did. Actually, I think she loved me a little too much.”

“You reminded her of Freya,” Klaus whispered. “Of her firstborn, the one she lost to plague.”

“I know.”

“She worried for you constantly, terrified some sickness would take you just as it took Freya.”

“I know.”

“When your Frost-Sickness rendered you unconscious, she nery left your side!”

“I know.”

Klaus clenched his teeth and growled. “Yet still you whine like a spoiled cat!” He spat, rage and jealousy now taking the forefront in his aquamarine eyes. “You never suffered our father’s rage, never had to labor as the rest of us did to please him, you were always doted apon by everyone - never had to feel as though you didn’t belong, as though you had you earn your place! How dare you take all that for granted.” 

Your jaw locked and you gently placed the brush down to avoid crushing the fine wood into splinters. Inhaling deeply, you fixed your gaze on your brother. “I have never taken for granted anything that was given to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, the rivers, the land, and more than anything this family have I given thanks for every single day I have been allotted. You, Niklaus, know not what it is to wake up, surprised that you made it another day. You, Niklaus, do not understand what it is to rejoice in the unfathomable agony that plagues your bones as it means that you’re alive. You, my brother, cannot comprehend what it is to put off sleep in fear that you may not see the next dawn - nor to fight through a hell of your mind’s own making for no other cause than for the love of family.” You shook your head, disappointed in him. “Do not call me ungrateful, Niklaus.” 

“Then why do you think of our mother with contempt when even I who took her life cannot forgive myself?!” He bellowed. His voice and eyes were hollow and broken, his soul desperate for an answer to his heart’s riddle. 

You could feel yourself begin to cry as well. Not for your own sake, but for his. 

“Her love wasn’t for me, Nik,” You sniffed. “It wasn’t mine - it was Freya’s.”

“N-no… She-”

“I grew up smothered by a shadow of love and regret that never had anything to do with me!” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself as if they might contain the pain that threatened to tear you apart. “Mother’s doting wasn’t compassion! It was obsession! She thought that if she could just fix her past mistakes that it might somehow change how things were for us, but it was always a lie. A fairytale.”

When your older brother opened his arms, you ran to him, and he embraced you as any older brother should. You had aimed to cheer him up, but such was not the outcome. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re planned and Niklaus just let you cry. At the end of the day, your siblings would always be there for you - even if it was only at the very end.

“What’s worse was that I knew, I felt it every second,” You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like a plank of wood in a storm-tossed sea. “I saw myself in her eyes and believe me when I say that through them I know what our dearly departed sister looked like. She even called me Freya more times than I can count.” You shook your head, letting the pain run its course. “I was just her replacement, Nik. Just a replacement she tossed to the wayside like the rest of of her children - damned from the start.”

In this memory it was Niklaus who hung his head, ashamed of his quick accusations. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” He said. “My minnsta vix, you are my sister - blood be damned - and I’ll never doubt your loyalty agian.”

And he never did. Of all your siblings, you were the only one Nik never daggered out of fear or as a punishment. Not like Kol, who was easily the one finding himself at the wrong end of a dagger too many times to count.

As much as his actions against your family, Niklaus especially, pained you, you couldn’t blame him. Your mother’s curse had consumed your twin brother and oh how acutely did you miss the mischievous boy you had adored with all your heart. The only time he truly seemed to return to you was around Bonfire season, or as it came to be called, Christmas.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 3rd, 1904

“Kol, sweetheart, honey-bunch, mistletoe of mine; you had better start running because I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp as soon as I reach the bottom of these here stairs,” You sang from the balcony overlooking the courtyard of your families New Orleans compound. A wide, placid smile was spread over your face but it was the equivalent of thin ice because your eyes promised death. 

Down below, decorating the positively gigantic fir tree Klaus had somehow managed to fit through the front gates, stood your menace of a twin brother. He glanced up, flashing you the world’s cheekiest grin. “Oh, darling that’s not very peace on earth of you, now is it? Especially when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong!”

Your eyes narrowed. “I think you know exactly what you did, Charles.” 

He snickered but held your eyes. Beside him Rebekah looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked. Your younger sister also took a step away from your twin for good measure. She was a smart cookie.

Keeping your razer sharp glare fixed on Kol, you drew an object from behind your back - a long, thin, wooden object. You held it on display before you, twirling it like a staff between your fingers. You said nothing.

Rebekah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really? We’re back to this again?” She scoffed and rounded on Kol. “What, did you run out of actually clever pranks to pull?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the classics, Rebekah,” Elijah cut in from where he sat with his book in the corner. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - how appropriate. 

“There is when its this one,” She claimed. “We’re going to be cleaning bits of Kol off the walls for a century when she’s though with ‘im!”

“Damn right, you are,” You said, eyeing your twin brother like a lion eyes a gazell. “Got anything to say for yourself… dim-wit?”

Kol grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes actually, I do.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Then he looked up, spreading his arms wide. “God bless us, Everyone!”

For a moment you didn’t move. You just glared death at him and he grinned back. Then, you chucked the crutch in your hands like a javelin, aimed directly at his face before vaulting yourself over the railing, screaming at the top of your lungs. “SUFFER THE WRATH OF TINY TIM, YOU KNOB-HEADED WANKER!!!”

Kol squealed like a girl and bolted just as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” He tried as he backed away from you, using Elijah and his chair as a shield.

“You forged these chains link by link and yard by yard,” You quoted, inching closer. “No apology can save you from me!”

“Bloody hell!” He yelped and leaped to the side as you made a grab for him, just narrowly dodging. He raced into the room closest to the two of you, dashing around the dining room table and through the opposite door. “Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”

You pursued him into the Kitchen. “How’s this for cripple?” You lept onto the counter and from there flung yourself onto your brother’s shoulders, tackling him to the floor. “Surrender or die!” You commanded, pressing your forearm against his throat.

“Fine! I surrender!” He conceded. You moved off him and allowed the boy to stand. 

“Mean cripple,” He muttered under his breath. 

You punched him in the gut.

It was that playful side of him that you missed. The one that would tease you with jabs that didn't sting just a little. The one who never sneered at you or yelled. You even missed his endless supply of cripple jokes, because that was him. That was your Kol and he was gone now. Your mother's curse had changed him most of all. 

Rebekah, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all. Though she had developed something of an extreme side, her patterns remained the same. She followed in Niklaus's footsteps, wherever they may tread. She trusted and feared him. Rebekah always chose Nik over you and your twin.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 21st, 1914

"No!" You shrieked as you watched that cold silver dagger pierce your twin brother's heart once again. The color in his skin faded to a corpse-like gray and the veins beneath blackened and ran dry. "No…"

He was gone. Kol would be locked away and there was no telling whether Niklaus would ever let him out again. The grief, the pain, and the agony were too much. You had only nearly been hanging on and only for Christmas - only for Kol because he loved the season so. But with him gone, the pain assaulted you in droves. Tears burned your eyes and you found yourself turning towards Rebekah.

"I trusted you," You whispered - heartbroken. "We trusted you."

"Y/N/N, I-I had to," She claimed. 

"No, you didn't." You shook your head, tears already making their way down your cheeks. "No, you didn't."

"Y/N, you don't understand-"

You didn't let her finish. Shaking your head, you turned away and carried yourself back to your room. There, you let yourself collapse on your bed, allowing the weight of the Frost-Sickness to crush you. Already your body felt heavier, your chest like a vice. You didn't want to be here any longer. Not without him.

A knock sounded on your door. 

"I don't want to talk!" You shouted.

The knock came again.

"Go away!"

The door opened and Niklaus stepped in. You glared at him.

"Do you not speak English?" You demanded. "Go away, I said. Trŭgvaĭ. Partir. Verlassen. Scram. Beat it. Leave me alone, it's what you're best at."

"I did what I had to do," Klaus said, eyes hard.

"Keep telling yourself that," You spat.

"He was plotting against me, forging a dagger-"

"He wasn't going to use it!" You bit your lip, your whole frame shaking with unshed tears. "He-He wasn't… He was never-" You fell back against your pillows, burying your face in your hands.

"Love, please-"

"I can't." You heaved and gasped for breath but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. "I can't a-and I don't want to. I don't want to be around without him - not now. I don't want this pain any longer! To run afoul of winter will surely shred my soul! I can't stand it, Niklaus! Just put me to sleep!"

Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. "Are you confident this is what you want?"

"I can't do it without him. This whole season - I can't stand it. I don't want to spend Christmas without him! Not this one or any other!" You rubbed your red-rimmed eyes. "Let me sleep through the winter, and wake me when you wake him."

"As you wish, dear sister." 

From his pocket, Klaus withdrew a gleaming silver dagger. Its edges glinted like snowflakes, though New Orleans didn't have those. He moved to sit by your side, raising his arm so you could lean against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, and a moment later, felt the chilling metal slice your flesh, lodging itself firmly in your heart.

"Merry Christmas, Nik." The words were the last to leave your lips.

"Sleep well and dream of butterflies, minnsta vix," Those words were the last you heard Klaus whisper to you. "I promise I shall wake you one day."

You knew Klaus would keep his promise, though it startled you when that promise came to fruition.

Mystic Falls, Virginia: Present Day

The first thing you registered when you awoke was a voice. Two voices actually. One that sounded like music and another that reminded you more of a rotten honeycomb - slimy, sticky, and brittle. You remained still and listened as these were not the voices of your family members and thus, they would have some serious explaining to do.

"Damon?" The musical voice spoke. "We did it. Abby and I opened the coffin."

The second voice, most likely this Damon fellow - not that you cared - sounded rather muffled. Almost as if he wasn't actually in the room. Speaking of, whatever sort of room you found yourself in was large and open. That is, everything echoed.

"Yeah?" The voice prodded impatiently. "And what's in there? What did you find?"

"Another corpse with a dagger through it," A third voice joined the conversation. This voice was similar to the music-like voice of the young girl, though it had a smokier quality.

"What?" That second voice did not sound happy. "That's it?"

"Yup. She's just some girl," The first voice replied.

"How old are her clothes?" The second asked. 

“Uh, I don’t know…” You felt someone pinch the fabric of your skirts, likely inspecting the make.

“Early ninteen-hundreds, I’d say,” The third voice spoke. How long had you been out? Niklaus wouldn’t have kept you daggered for that long, would he?

“Did you take the dagger out?” Damon demanded.

Always one for a dramatic entrance, you took that as your cue. Sitting up slowly, you turned your head and opened your eyes. Your whole body felt drained and dry and you knew the telltale signs of desiccation were still there. Two women stood in front of you, one adult and one no older than seventeen. Both had beautiful caramel skin and black hair and they shared the same gorgeous green eyes. Witches they were - mother and daughter. You could tell in the way they carried themselves. Both of them gasped in unison.

“I’m afraid they did,” You said with a smirk. “Hope that’s not too much of a problem.” Of course, you didn’t mean such a statement but for now, you were in good enough spirits to be amused. You focused your gaze on the younger of the two witches, schooling your expression to assure her that you meant the girl no harm. “Hello, darling. Would you be so kind as to tell me the date? I’m afraid I’ve been asleep a rather long time.”

What odd clothes these women wore. Instead of skirts, they sported trousers. Scandalous to be sure, but what you wouldn’t give for a pair.

The young girl floundered for a moment, searching for words but you remained patent. 

“Uh, um… I-it’s January 20th, 2012.” 

Your eyes widened in shock for a moment as you digested that information, then your expression fell into a grimace. “Great,” You huffed. Tossing your hair back, you hopped out of that cramped coffin and onto the floor of the cave. “Well, in that case, who are you and do I need to murder you both?”

Both women took a hesitant step back. 

“I-I’m Bonnie, Bonnie Bennet,” The younger one said. “And this is my mother, Abby.” She pointed to her senior companion. 

“I see,” You nodded cooly. Your mood was souring by the minute.

“We-we were told you were the weapon capable of killing Klaus Mikaelson,” She said.

You raised a brow and laughed. "Kill him? Kill Niklaus?" The expressions of the women before you were entirely serious though they quickly began to deteriorate into confusion as you doubled over laughing. "Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

Both witches glanced at one another, uncertain. "Well… because he daggered you?"

"At my behest!" You dismissed with a wave of your hand. "As if he could suffer me anything against my will; though, by Odin, I would certainly love to see him try. Ha! Kill him… I'd sooner let Kol have the pleasure - as long as we're suggesting absurdities. However, I will have a few choice words for him, just as soon as he comes to collect me, that you can be sure of." You shook your head as your laughter faded.

"That'll be hard, princess," The owner of that second voice you had heard waltzed through the mouth of the cavern. "The big bad wolf's got no clue where you are, so I don't think you'll be telling him anything."

He was a tall man, a little shorter than Kol but a little broader in the shoulders, with hair as black as a raven's plumage and pale skin to match. His eyes were a piercing sort of blue and you might have found him attractive had it not been for the unnerving gleam in those eyes and the sneer marring his lips.

"I beg your pardon?" You questioned, falling back into a more defensive stance at the sight of him. You didn't fear the man but something about that voice of his set you on edge.

"No one's coming to get you, sweetheart," Damon said.

You scowled, snapping your gaze back to Bonnie who had begun inching towards her ally's arrival. "You, girl! Why do you seek my brother's demise?" You demanded, eyes hard and sharp.

Bonnie froze. "I just want to protect my friends," She replied.

You shrugged. "A noble cause, at least."

"Wait, Klaus is your brother?" It was her mother who voiced the question and you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, of course he is. What else would he be?" You answered impatiently.

"Then why did he have your coffin sealed?" The woman questioned.

"Because my siblings are a rather overprotective lot and they tend to overdo my security just a tad." You huffed and turned back to the daughter. "Do you know where my brother currently resides?"

"Y-yes." She nodded.

"Very well, darling. Take me to him," You ordered shortly. Your tone left no room for debate and the women both moved to obey you but the man held his arm out to stop them.

"Woah, woah, woah. Not so fast. You're not going anywhere, princess," He said, taking a confident step forward.

"Step aside," You demanded. You had run out of patience.

The man - Damon - shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

You raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Nope."

"I should warn you, that's rather ill advised," You said, smiling thinly. Your eyes promised danger.

"And why's that, sugar?" That southern accent of his was certainly grating on your already thin nerves.

"Because I lack my twin's fun-loving temperament and all-around more reasonable nature," You replied. "Move aside and take me to my family or I shall skin you alive and tear each strand of sinus from your muscles one by one as I weave them into a nice rug."

Damon snorted. "Could you at least make me into a tapestry? I always wanted to be one of those."

"This is the only warning I will give," You ground out, eyes narrowed.

He scoffed. "Come at me, short-ass."

The insult was entirely his mistake. 

You rushed at him, dodging right at the last second to avoid his attempt to grab you. Snatching his arm for balance, you angled your feet to the wall of the cave and pushed off. That initial push supplied you with enough momentum to cartwheel your tiny body over his shoulders. Your weight combined with the force you applied, threw him off balance and you took the opportunity to drive your elbow firmly into his skull as soon as you were solidly back on the ground. Damon reeled in pain but you didn't give him time to think. You swept your leg around and kicked his own out from under him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.

You knelt on his chest and met his eyes.

"Take me to my family," You ordered, impressing your will on his inferior mind.

The man smirked and tossed you off of him. You were sent stumbling and your back slammed into the side of the coffin you had awoken in. You blinked, shaking the slight daze away. What had happened? Why had your compulsion failed?

"Sorry, cupcake," Damon gloated, getting to his feet. "I had a vervain cocktail for breakfast."

"No matter." You shrugged and straightened up again. "I was simply intending to be nice. I should be thanking you. For now I can have a little fun without Elijah reprimanding me for it." 

You rushed him again and this time he was ready for you to evade his outstretched arms. He stepped to the right to counter you but this time you ducked and slid between his legs. Twisting around with all the agility of a coiled servant, you kicked him in the groin like the simple, prudent soul you were. Damon cursed and fell to one knee, glaring at you over his shoulder.

"That was cheap," He bit out, grimacing.

You shrugged. "That was practical," You replied, smirking primly. "And so is this."

Grabbing him by the wrist, you twisted his arm and pulled it around his back, pushing him over. You positioned your fingers to perfectly utilize the fulcrum point of that wrist as your shoved his hand forwards. Damon grunted and you grinned. Then you started breaking his fingers. One at a time. 

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

The man cursed and screamed and you just giggled like the innocent little girl you had once been but were no longer.

Unfortunately, in your eagerness to take down the man in the black leather jacket, you had entirely forgotten about the two witches in the room.

"That's enough!" The younger one shouted. A searing pain ignited in your skull, prompting you to release your grip on the raven-haired man. You cried out clutching your skull as the other woman yelled:

"Motus!"

You were thrown back into a semi-damp wall of stone and held there by an invisible force. The pain in your head faded and your gaze snapped up, locking on Bonnie and her mother. You hissed, teeth-gnashing and eyes wild. You were tired and starving and miserable and cold and they were in your way. 

Then, a blur of motion startled you and before you could blink, a tall figure in a dark suit caught the elder woman by the throat and raised her into the air 

"Miss and Mrs. Bennett, I suggest you release my sister at once." Elijah's booming voice struck through the cavern and you grinned, turning your head to the door. There stood your brothers - well, two of them, anyway - and neither of them looked very amused. Klaus moved to intimidate the younger girl and Kol smirked as he delivered a few swift, bone-crunching kicks to Damon's ribs. 

You smiled wryly.

As it turned out, Klaus, Elijah, and Kol made for quite the menacing trio when the three of them stood together on something. You made a mental note to encourage them to agree more often. The magic pinning you to the wall faltered, the witch responsible having lost all her bravado along with most of her oxygen supply. You dropped to the ground, landing in a bit of an unceremonious heap. 

"Ugh! About time you three got here," You huffed, rolling your eyes as you brushed yourself off. 

"Apologies, sister," Kol grinned, finishing with Damon by snapping his neck before prancing over to you. "We had some urgent remodeling to take care of - you know how it goes." He tossed you something and you caught the object, inspecting it. The thing appeared to be a plastic bag containing… blood? 

Huh… how peculiar.

You shrugged and tore into it. The sweet nectar inside wasn't as fresh as you would have liked but beggars can't exactly be choosers now, can they?

"Don't ever presume to threaten my sister again. Do I make myself clear?" Elijah growled his tone a harsh bite emphasized by the glare Klaus cast between mother and daughter. Both women nodded vigorously and Elijah dropped the one he was strangling. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and he turned to you, seeming to inspect your figure for injuries before speaking. "Are you unharmed, lítil víx?" He asked gently.

"I'm quite alright. Though, I most certainly would like to know whose fault is was that I fell into the hands of such incompetent brutes as these," You hummed, continuing to suck out the contents of the bag in your hands rather contentedly. Beside you, your twin brother smirked and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into his side as he turned and started from the cave. The other two followed with Klaus making one last rather threatening gesture before taking up the rear. 

"I'm afraid it was Niklaus's regrettable negligence that allowed all of our coffins to be stolen," Elijah informed you.

Klaus made a strangled noise of offense. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested. "I was a little distracted with killing our father!"

"Father's dead?" You asked in surprise. Your siblings nodded. "Oh… Well good riddance."

"Thought you might say that. Now, don't you ever scare me like that again, darling. Understand?" Kol demanded, hugging you closer. Despite how he had been changed by your mother's curse, you could always be sure he would still care about you. No curse on the planet could change that.

"Ah yes," You agreed, rolling your eyes. "I'll try my very best to avoid being kidnapped while under the influence of a magical sleep in the near future."

Your twin brother poked you in the ribs in response to your wit.

"He's serious, love," Klaus added. "You nearly gave us a heart attack."

"Careful, Nik. Statements like those might lead one to think you have a heart," You chastened playfully.

The hybrid chuckled. "Only for you, love. Only for you."

"And for the occasional blonde, let us not forget," Elijah quipped, smirking to himself.

You giggled but your mirth didn't last long.

Stepping out of the mouth of the cave system, you were met with the blackness of night and air even colder than that of the cavern. Snow drifted from a dreary sky and you frowned, shivering. Discomfort weighed in your soul and you could feel it begin to grow just as frigid rime creeps along until it smothers a plant. You sighed. It was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

Kol rubbed your arm comfortingly and leaned in close. "It'll be alright, Y/N. I'm right here. I may not have my magic, but I'm not leaving you and you won’t be alone this winter."

Yes, as always, it was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

But at the very least you had your family.

No matter what, you would have your family. Always and Forever.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21

Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just comment or send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

[jawbone-xylophone]

Still not entirely happy with my characterization, but I do like the slightly experimental choices I made here. I just think Hypnos and Thanatos are extremely divorced, and it's partially because they both think Hypnos should be exactly like Thanatos. Neither of them is sure when it all fell apart, though.

Flavored with an eldritch being having body dysmorphia, and also copious flowery language surrounding People Dying.

~🥀🦋🥀~

It's an old and rotten unraveling, this thing between them.

Before earth and air, before moon and water, there was a suggestion of what could be. And it writ upon itself Night, and it writ upon itself Love, and the darkness filled itself with a thousand shadows, a thousand stars.

And they learned to sleep. And they learned to dream. And they learned to die.

They learned many other things, of course, and Hypnos learned at the knee of Mother Night what gave men delight and terror. He liked to be gentle with them. He liked to weave dreams of river mist and poppy stems and stardust, let mortals taste a little of immortality away from bloody work and bursting callouses. Everyone, everywhere, deserved something nice in their lives.

He'd really thought Thanatos agreed.

Sleep is the midwife of the gentle dead, after all. He lowered their eyelids, fluffed their pillows, reminded them they were loved, drowsy souls all wrapped up in a neat little bow for his brother to take below. They'd danced this dance for aeons, before Time fully knew its own name. A matched set, hand in hand, waltzing the thin blurry line of oblivion and eternity.

They were twins. They should have had an understanding.

Up the hallway Hades loomed over his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose to stifle a gold flush of rage in the wake of Prince Zagreus's latest antics. Mother Nyx hovered outside the prince's door like she'd just happened to be there since the dawn of time for no particular reason, and something about it- her hands, her jaw, the smoke-pale skin they'd all consciously matched to mark out family, was just... a lot. A lot to handle. Honestly, just a little bit hilarious.

He'd been using a human-shaped body for so long it had involuntary responses now, wasn't that funny? Thanatos had come by... some timeless amount of time ago, maybe a decade, maybe a year, to tell him to get better at record keeping. Registering new shades. It wasn't a bad job. It wasn't an ideal job. It could sure prove he wasn't incompetent and clingy and dependent.

All he had to do was stay awake and friendly and not do anything creative, with zero help from anyone, and try not to accidentally slice his hand on his quill every time Thanatos dismissed him. He bled poppy sap, after all, not ichor like the Olympians.

It was kind of funny. Very funny, actually. He really had no reason to bleed anything- he might as well bleed ichor, if he could. Something to work on after his shift maybe. If he dreamed hard enough, he might change enough to improve something. He'd only really remembered in the last millennia to keep the number of his fingers stable. Sometimes he'd wake up with more or less. Maybe that was a problem.

It wasn't, once upon a time. It'd just been him and Thanatos on the banks of the Lethe, dancing the way flowers and butterflies do, drawing souls gently down into that final sleep to end all heartache and pain. Something gentle. Something good.

Hypnos let his papercuts scar like a human, trying to keep track of the last time his brother gave a damn, and got back to work.

[legacyshenanigans]

A little angsty and bitter sweet idea I had floating around in my head.

Alot can happen in 10 years 💚

Sebastian wandered in the night, he'd got out of Azkaban a couple of weeks back, Azkaban wasn't kind to him, that place wasn't kind to anyone, not that he deserved kindness, nor felt any kindness towards a soul after he got out, for the last 10 years all he thought about was MC, Ominis and Anne, naturally once he was out he managed to track down Anne's location, well, her grave that was, he spent the evening he found out about her passing at her grave side, sobbing. His next order of business was tracking down MC, he asked around, going on what information he knew, he assumed shed end up being a keeper, and the repository under Hogwarts would of been a huge priority for her, so she HAD to of lived nearby Hogwarts, he asked around using the description of her looks that were still burnt into his brain from their school days, luckily for him, it didn't take long to find out where she lived, she obviously hadn't changed that much since then.

He approached her home in the dead of night, his hands shaking, he had many things he wanted to say to her, not nice things, with even less nice action's "Alohomora" he whispered in a dark tone, gaining access to the home, he stepped in quietly, and made his way upstairs, his brain was so focused, so angry and twisted at the thought of what he was about to do, his brain clearly still not right from the torments of Azkaban. He entered her room as slow and hushed as he could, not just to find her asleep in bed, but Ominis, he was next to her, they both slept soundly, holding eachother, his brain stopped all thought for a moment, spotting wedding rings on their fingers from the end of their bed where he now stood, glaring at them.

He slowly reached down to grab his wand, his hand still shaking, anger in his eye's, when he suddenly heard a creek from the hallway, he snapped out of his furious trance for a moment, and turned his head towards the door, was someone else here? He crept away again slowly to investigate the noise, hearing something in the kitchen downstairs, he approached cautiously, his hand ready at his wand once more, his face dropped slightly seeing a little girl in the kitchen making herself a drink "They..Have a child" he thought to himself. The girl turned and let out a little gasp, seeing Sebastians dark figure in the doorway to the kitchen. He panicked but tried to remain calm

Sebastian: Its OK shhh, it's OK. I'm....I'm not here to hurt you.

For goodness sake, she couldn't of been much older than 6 years old, and she was the perfect mix of MC and Ominis, Sebastians anger turned to sadness, and regret, he'd come here tonight to end MC's life. Only to find her, the girl he once loved, and his bestfriend, had a family..

Sebastian: *soft but fake smile, trying to keep her calm* What's your name?

Annabella: ..A-Annabella Gaunt

She stood, hugging a little rabbit doll, a tear ran down Sebastians face as he looked at her. He leant down in front of her.

Sebastian: Its..Nice to meet you Annabella..My names Sebastian..Have you heard that name before? *he asked curiously*

Annabella: Mummy and Daddy had a friend called Sebastian, are you him? I've heard them speak your name.

Sebastian: Do you..Know anything else?

Annabella: No..Just that name..When they talk about when they were younger, in school.

Sebastian stood, wiping another tear from his eye, before he began to walk away, he turned towards her once back in the doorway.

Sebastian: Tell your mummy and Daddy in the morning, that Sebastian said congratulations..And..That they'll never see me again.

With that he left the home, wandering aimlessly into the night once more..Holding his hand up to his mouth, as tears streamed down his face, he got to a forest area and simply slumped down against a tree, holding his head in his hands.

A lot can happen in 10 years..Beautiful things that he'd missed out on having, all due to that vicious hold that dark magic had over him..HE could of had those things..Had he not been so foolish.

~

[kittrrrr]

Sepfember day 8! I've been buried under schoolwork, and yesterday I was very busy. Kinda like morally grey Fi. Ao3

===

Fi knew her purpose, and she knew it well. It was the reason that she was created. When evil rose up, she would strike it down. She was a tool to keep the darkness down, to help maintain that order. ...it was still too vague, frustratingly vague. She tried not to think about it too much. Her nature, ever accounting for every possibility, was ever conspiring against her. What did order really mean? What was evil? Was it just what opposed to whatever Hylia stood for? These thoughts were treasonous, and she pushed them down, shut it out whenever she could. Still, she had never been given clear lines on this, and she had to draw the line somewhere to stop the blade from being completely useless.

So she decided that whatever her wielder (and she should only have one, but the idea was not outside of the realm of possibility- it must be included in her planning) did was Good, and whatever they rallied against was Evil. The wielder would surely stand by Hylia, who Fi already knew to be good. Thus, any further thinking about this was eliminated from Fi's mind. The only exception to this rule, however, was, should there ever be a moment where one wielder tried to hurt another wielder with her. Then, and only then, she would take true action herself to prevent evil. She might have been the Blade That Seals Evil, but that doesn't mean that she should have to make any judgement on what was Evil. Her true job, her clearest order, was to judge the courage of her wielder. If the wielder was suffiencely brave, if they'd proved themself, then it didn't matter for what reason they drew her. She was to seal the evil that they saw.

And her first master, he fulfilled his mission, sealed the evil that Hylia herself could not defeat alone, then laid her to rest. For untold years, she slept. He might have sealed the Evil that Hylia saw, but he hadn't been fast enough, and she could feel his soul, reborn again and again in forever curse. The first time she felt his soul after, she had not been drawn. There must have been no evil he had seen fight to use her for. Of course, that was not to say that many, many other did not try to draw her. Their souls had been cleansed by trials, they were not brave. They were not her master. So she burned them. Sometimes, she might have gone to far, judging from the screaming. It was not her fault that they were not courageous. She was just following her orders. It didn't stop that squirming feeling that she'd felt when she had been laid to rest by the First Master.

Next, there was a young boy. He was brave, but too young- even Fi could tell that- with the soul of her master driving him forward despite his age. It was outside her orders, and therefore should not have been of concern to Fi. However... The probabilities... They were too high to let him go and draw without... It was for his best, that he laid to sleep for seven years. That feeling didn't go away, no matter which way she let the situation slide. She... was not sure when she was split across two timelines. It was not her situation to worry. From there, things get blurry. She has a hard time thinking of all of those different masters at the same time. Fi, as she was split across three timelines (no, she didn't know how the third one got involved), had a hard time remembering anything about those time periods. This was somewhat frustrating, as she enjoyed being able to track the change of the First Master's kingdom, its falls and refoundings. It mattered not. She had her hands full, fulfilling orders across time. At some point, one without the soul of the First Master came along, and she ended up all back in herself.

Demise's presence was weakened by quiet a bit, but this was likely due to the many, many years that had passed. Fi wrote it off. She slumbered for naught more then five years before she was drawn again, this time by someone who truly bore her First Master's soul. He... He was not right. If Fi had not known better, she would have said that. That this master was... evil. Of course, she would not be so stupid. The master was always right. She felt his surprise at drawing her, but ignored it. It was a very common reaction. She had followed her order. She had judged this master's courage- he even had the spirit of the First Master, which she'd heard called the spirit of the hero- she had followed her orders. So, why did it feel like that was not all she had to do?

[bullet-prooflove]

The Beauty of the End Part 5: History - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life, @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @vannabanana1995 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @queeniesdiary @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond @baybaybear1 @@thanossexual

Part One: Nashville - Riz makes a decision that affects your relationship in Nashville.

Part Two: Reckless - Taza and Neron realise that Riz is spiralling.

Part Three: Walk The Line - Taza calls you to get the truth about what happened between you and Riz.

Part 4: Bright - Vicki reminds Riz it's not all about him.

You don’t pick up the phone when he calls and Riz doesn’t blame you. When it goes straight to voicemail he doesn’t even bother to leave a message, he simply hangs up the phone and sighs. He tries to plan out his next steps in the shower but every avenue he looks down comes with a problem.

Access.

It’s not just as simple as picking up the phone anymore, if you block his calls, it’s not as if he can just turn up at your house. He’s lost track of your schedule over the past few months, he’s not even sure which city you’re in.

Those tickets at the box office, he would bet his life they aren’t even in his name anymore. Even then they only gave him access to the venue, with security the way it is, he wouldn’t be able to get anywhere hear you. He presses his palms to the cool tiles and hangs his head under the hot stream of water in an attempt to drown out the noise that resonates through his head.

He’s fucked up.

He’s ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to him because he can’t face the prospect of being rejected by someone that he loves.

He knows what this is about, but he hates the fact that it still fucking affects him even after all these years. The scars, they’re buried deep underneath the ridges of his skin but that time he spent in the orphanage in Mexico still stings. He knows his mother did what she thought was best, twenty-two with three kids, no man in the picture, too many mouths to feed… It wasn’t abandonment not really.

He was fifteen when he was cut loose, a few bucks to his name and a backpack. He knew his mother had a sister in the US so he’d made the trip under the cover of darkness and ended up here in Santo Padre, Vicki had just started up the brothel at that point. A wayward nephew had never factored into her plans. She had had taken him in anyway, putting him to work doing anything that needed doing around the house. Turning rooms over between clients, helping with the bar, keeping the appointment books and balancing the accounts.

He’d been a dropout ever since kindergarten, at least in the brothel he was productive. He’d learned from the best how to please a woman, how to listen to the sounds of her body, the heady echo of her moans. For the briefest moment in those exchanges, he felt like somebody loved him, that somebody wanted him. He forgot that love in his world was transactional. It took him a long time to accept that Vicki kept him around because she cares about him and not out of obligation.

“You’re surprisingly well adjusted.” You had told him as the two of you sat in the yard, sharing a spliff as the sun went down. Your feet were resting in his lap, his thumb caressing the hollow of your ankle before he leant over and handed you the joint.

“The MC helped balance me out.” He told you when he settled back into his seat. “It gave me the thing that I was missing, showed me that love and loyalty doesn’t have to come with stings. I think I have Taza to thank for that. He sponsored me, took me under his wing, he was the first person who really saw me for who I was and gave me that encouragement to grow as person and explore who I am.”

“He’s your MC dad.” You told him as you took a drag and he had laughed because he’s never thought about it like that. Taza’s the guy that calls him on his shit, sits with him when he’s low, he’s the one that taught him how to play guitar, that shared his love of music.

Taza always been there when Riz has needed it, despite the fact that Riz has done everything he can to fight it recently.

“Fuck.” He mutters, throwing his head back and using his palm to wipe the water from his face. Even when he’s an asshole, Taza’s still there, trying to help him put the pieces back together.

He’s barely set foot out of the shower when he hears the knock on his door. He almost ignores it. He doesn’t want to see anyone else tonight, he wants to get into his bed and scroll through pictures of the two of you on his phone the same way he has every other night since he ended things. He’s still clutching the towel to his waist when he answers the door and sees you standing there.

You still look as beautiful as the first day he saw you, that black silk dress hugging your form. Brown boots and a matching leather jacket thrown over your shoulders. Your suitcase is propped up next to you. In the background he sees Taza and Creeper idling in the van, Taza gives him a nod before he turns his head to Creeper and the two of them pull away from the curb.

He’s thought about what he wants to say so much over the past couple of hours, however now that you’re here the words just won’t come out. As your gaze shifts to the towel slung low around his hips, he realises this he’s still standing there at the front door, dripping wet and wearing next to nothing. It’s you that breaks the silence.

“Can I come in?”

Love Riz? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[apocalypseornaw]

Resurrect (Pt 1/4)

Benny Lafitte x reader (Reader has Nickname of Nix)

When the portal opened to pull the souls out of Castiel you were caught in the wake resulting in you stuck in purgatory. You figured that would be it, you'd fight as long as you could until some monster got the better of you that is until you met Benny.

Warnings: cursing, the usual violence

"Don't go too close!" You heard Bobby's warning a second too late. You jumped forward when Cas sagged, helping him to his feet just as the portal opened. You felt the pull of the magic and tried to get out of it but it was useless, this spell was ancient and the power fueling it was too much. You heard Dean call your name before a bright light flashed, engulfing your vision and the room around you seemed to fall away.

You must have passed out somewhere along the way because the next thing you knew you were waking up in a dark forest, tall trees stretching towards a grey sky surrounded you. You slowly got to your feet, checking yourself for injuries.

You patted yourself to find that your gun was still at the small of your back and the blade at your side was still there. The only problem was you had no idea where you were or what the hell had happened. A growl drew your attention and you spun to see three looming shadows getting closer to where you stood. The portal was to put the souls back in purgatory, if you'd gotten sucked in....fuck that meant you were in monster land alone and with very few weapons.

You took off at a run, hoping the things wouldn't give chance. You had no clue what the hell they were, meaning you had no clue how to kill them. You could hear them gaining ground and decided to try your luck with the silver bullets loaded into your gun.

You spun, taking aim at the first one and pulled the trigger. It fell with a heavy thud. You quickly shot the other two, knowing that your scent mixed with the sound of the gunfire would draw attention to your location from only God knew how far.

You needed to put some distance between this spot and you. You needed to find cover and figure out some sort of a plan. Certainly the boys would look for you right? Bobby or Cas would figure out what had happened even if Sam and Dean couldn't. You just needed to stay alive until the rescue team showed up. Hearing branches breaking, heading in your direction as you ran told you that plan may just be easier said than done.

You hit the ground hard, managing to roll into the movement which meant you'd avoided the set of teeth chomping wildly at your arm. You put enough space between you and the feral looking werewolf to land a solid kick to his chest, when he stumbled backwards you grabbed for the large black blade he'd dropped and spun it in your grip. With a solid swing you separated his head from his neck and was rewarded with the sound of it hitting the dirt.

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

Your moment of celebration was short lived because you could hear the rugaru who'd been tracking you for the better part of the last two days let out a cackle "Oh little huntress. Come out, come out wherever you are" you took a deep breath before calling back "First that's sexist, I'm a hunter not huntress. Second I'm tired of this game. Come and get me you asshole"

You recognized him, you'd killed him some years back with Dean. You never would've thought you'd be facing him at a later date but then again since landing in monster world you'd been faced with quite a few angry ones who recognized you from hunting at Sam and Dean's side for so many years.

He stepped out the tree line and laughed "There's that false bravado I love about you hunters. I can smell your fear, hell I could smell it when you killed me with the Winchesters"

You shrugged "Never said I was fearless, just dumb enough to do it anyways" he charged for you and you let him, jumping out the way at the last moment.Bastard hadn't realized you'd made it to the edge of one of the many cliffs littered around the landscape.

You walked over to the side and laughed to yourself when you saw that he'd splattered his own head on one of the jagged rocks at the base of the cliff. "Dumb enough to do it but smart enough to know my surroundings asshole"

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

You bent to grab your blade, glancing around to see if anything else was stalking you. Something was tracking you but you weren't sure what. Days had passed with you feeling like you were being watched but you'd gotten used to that feeling. Some creature feature was always close at hand.

You weren't sure how long you'd been stuck here but it was long enough you had gotten used to having blood caked on your face, used to keeping an eye in every direction and used to knowing at any given second you'd be in a fight to the death and stood the chance of not winning.

With a final glance to your surroundings you started moving again, best not to stay in one place.

Benny knew within a few days that something new had hit purgatory. The electricity in the air ran wild from the news of a human lurking among the shadows. It was a woman, a hunter and a damn good one from what he'd heard.

---------

Of course he'd be curious, who wouldn't? When he first tracked her down she'd been cornered by a couple ghouls. They were taunting her, saying how they were going to enjoy tearing her apart. He'd moved to help her but then saw the smirk pulling at her lips and his curiosity kept him back. He'd move if the tide turned against her but he was curious to see how she handled herself.

She tilted her head to the side slightly "Well cmon then fellas. Don't keep a lady waiting" he watched as she threw a smaller blade at the bigger of the ghouls, it buried into his neck, not a killing blow but enough to drop him. She winked at the other one before swinging the larger blade she had, decapitating him then ran over to finish off the one who laid on the ground clutching at his throat.

When she stood up to wipe the blades clean on her leg he got a good look at her. Her hair was up in a haphazard looking braid, the flannel she had on had seen better days, the black tshirt under it still looked solid. She was curvy to say the least, and was beautiful if he must admit.

The thing that pulled him to her wasn't that though. She was a human, in a place like this yet standing her ground and surving....she'd been here for months if the rumors were true yet besides the scar on her cheek there was no noticeable injury. He was impressed.

Her eyes flickered towards where he was but he knew she couldn't see him. Maybe she could feel his eyes on her? She visibly shook herself then started moving again. She'd learned one rule already, always stay on the move.

You were leaned against a tree, trying to do a mental check list of where you were. The scenery mostly looked the same but the river that cut through the center of purgatory was your main land mark. It gave you some sort of means to map out locations. You knew what monsters were in what areas the heaviest, you knew where the cliffs were and you could still pin point the area you landed for what good it'd do you.

The sound of branches breaking hit your ears and you dropped into a fighting stance, deciding if you had enough time to make a run for it or if it would be a fight. Five vamps came out of the trees and you cursed yourself. How had you gotten so careless to let so many catch you in one place?

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

"Hey fellas" you greeted, glancing towards the two women "and ladies" they spread out to surround you and you tsk tsked "Cmon now. Where's your manners? Can't say hello before you kill me?"

The clear ring leader laughed "Told you, she's hunted with the Winchesters for so long she acts like them" you grabbed your heart "Ouch. I don't drink anywhere as much as Dean and Sam's got a few more issues then me, I was never fed demon blood!" You tried to keep all of them in your eye line but that was easier said than done.

The ring leader nodded and that must have been the cue. They all charged you at once so you swung wildly, your blade biting into the nearest ones neck. You snatched it free and kicked his body towards them "Cmon then!" A flurry of motion put three vampires pining you down.... wait...there was four?

You struggled against their hold and felt the weight on you lighten as a hand wrapped around your arm, snatching you to your feet and shoving your blade handle back into your hand. You were back to back with your savior but couldn't concentrate on that. The vamps circled around the two of you and an accented voice came from over your shoulder "Let em come to you, stay close"

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

When the final vamp fell you turned to face who'd come to your aid and saw fangs sliding back into place. You took a step back, he had a broad build, shoulders wider than Dean's with muscles and a solid frame from what had to have been a physical life before he'd been turned and only God knows how long he'd been here for.

Blue eyes studied you for a moment before he spoke "You good?" That accent that had you guessing Louisiana as where he was originally from threw you for a loop along with his looks. You never would've really said a vampire was good looking but then again you never would've guessed you would get stuck in purgatory either. You nodded after a moment "Yeah. I'm good but can I ask why intervene on my behalf? I'm a human"

He smirked "and a hunter too darlin don't forget that one" you raised an eyebrow "So this place has a rumor mill. Nice to know" he chuckled before holding out his hand "Name's Benny" you hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand "Name's Y/N but everybody calls me Nix,You still didn't answer why you helped me. Doesn't that put a target on your back?" He shrugged "I've done dumber things for worse reasons"

You shook your head with a small laugh "Ok then" he motioned through the woods "We moving or staying here and letting more find us?" You shrugged "How do I know this ain't some kind of game you're playing?" He held your gaze before a smile slipped onto his face "You don't but I did just save your hide after all" you stood stoic for a moment then nodded "Lead the way. I'm sure you know this place better than me"

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

You weren't sure what made you trust Benny at first besides the initial part of him intervening for you when he very well could've sat back and watched you be ripped to shreds.

The first few weeks after the two of you decided to join forces you kept your distance from each other, both of you rightfully wary of each other. He was still a vampire and you a hunter, meaning your kind was a threat to the other's kind.

The way you communicated was a whistle Benny taught you. If he heard it he knew to come running and you did the same. Was it strange at first backing a vampire in a fight if it came to it? A bit but the longer you fought alongside him the more you began to see him less as a vampire and more as just Benny.

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

A couple months passed or what he said was a couple months anyways. You still had no clue how he managed to have any sort of hold on keeping time that had passed.

You'd learned he'd been in purgatory for about fifty years, give or take. He told you how by the time he was killed he hadn't fed off a human in years, he'd simply survived off blood bank blood. He'd also told you about how he'd been killed. The fact that he'd walked away from his nest and the vamp who turned him when he'd fell in love with a human named Andrea Kormos.

The more you learned about him, the more it made sense for him to intervene for you. No one had been there to intervene for Andrea when his nest had attacked them.

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

You started to open up to him as well. You told him about the uncle who'd raised you, about Bobby who'd stepped into the role of a parent as well when your uncle was killed. You also told him that Nix was short for Phoenix, a nickname Dean had saddled you with after your first car get wrecked on a hunt and you climbed out while it was on fire.

You also told him about Sam and Dean, that conversation had been unavoidable considering how many monsters had come after you due to your affiliation with the Winchesters. You'd saw how his jaw had tightened when you said you didn't know why no one had come after you, you knew the anger had shown in your eyes because a part of you felt betrayed.

You never gave up on Sam or Dean. You always fought for them and they'd left you for monster feed. Not only them but Bobby and Cas too. You loved them all, they were your family yet it seemed they'd forgotten about you.

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

"Darlin I don't know how anybody could forget you" Benny told you one day while the two of you were catching a breather at the river that flowed with cool water amidst the constant humidity in the air. Even when the temperature dropped the air felt solid.

You glanced up from where you'd been squatted, washing your face clean and smiled "Cmon now Benny don't act like I'm not a pain in the ass" you teased and saw a smile pulling at his lips "Oh I never said that. You're a tremendous pain in the ass and your humanity is a damn magnet for every son of a bitch in this place"

You straightened up and stared at him for a moment "There better be a but somewhere in there Lafitte"

He took a step towards you, pushing the little pieces of hair back that'd fallen into your face "But I damn sure don't regret saving your backside and I'd do again and again. You make life a lot more interesting down here" the moment seemed a bit too intimate, it was the calmest things had been in weeks and if you were being honest you and Benny had grown closer and closer.

You swallowed hard then laughed lightly "I see just how you managed to smooth talk your way onto a yacht with an heiress" he smiled that smile that you'd learned to look forward to seeing. It made the corner of his eyes crinkled slightly and they seemed to brighten a shade or two with the action "Well a man's gotta have a few different talents"

He motioned towards your hair "Speaking of, turn around. I can manage a braid" you turned around, taking his blade when he held it out for you to hold.

You felt his fingers working their way through your hair, easing the knots out "Don't tell me you can cook too or I may propose" you teased as he worked your hair into a tight braid. He leaned up close to your ear and you felt his breath on your neck as he said "Well I suggest we find a jeweler around here cause I'm a pretty decent cook too"

You felt him tie the braid off before he took his blade back "That should hold" you ran two fingers down the braid, amazed at how smooth it was.

"Thank you" you told him and he nodded "Any time" growls hit your ears and Benny cursed under his breath "I think they've found our scent again honey" the two of you moved step for step away from the growls and deeper into the woods. The river didn't have solid ground around it, the wet rocks were a bitch to fight in if you could help from it. That lesson had been learned a few times over.

A year or better had passed since you landed in purgatory, a year of constantly being on high alert, of fighting every monster that God ever made. At least nine months of that year had been spent at Benny's side. The two of you made one hell of a team, it'd been a while since you were actively hunted so you only had to deal with fights as you stumbled across them.

----------

You were resting in a cavern that Benny had found. You didn't actually tire down here but you'd discovered if you were injured getting off your feet for a just a little while helped you heal. You'd barely gotten slashed but Benny had insisted.

Something was going on, the population was more on edge than they'd been in a while and the air was pure electricity. The problem was Benny couldn't exactly try to get a bead on any rumors with your scent lingering so here you were waiting for him to return.

-----------

A couple hours had passed when you heard a loud whistle ring out. You snatched your blade off the floor of the cavern and ran out to meet Benny "What did you find out?" You asked and he smiled "A damn portal opened up sweetheart...a human portal"

"What are you saying Benny?" You asked and he grabbed your chin gently "You can get out. God finally figured out a live intact human was stuck here" "What about you?" You asked and he shrugged "There's a spell, if you're willing you can drag my soul to the other side with you" you felt your stomach flip with excitement "Then let's find the damn portal"

You and Benny had been fighting your way across the land for three days when Benny stopped short enough you ran into his back "What the hell?" You grumbled and he glanced around "Leviathan are back" your eyes widened as two globs landed not three feet from you "Incoming!"

The two of you fought side by side taking out the two Leviathan and you were grateful they were easier to kill here. You cut your eyes at Benny and he was looking through the woods "Benny?" "Something else landed. I need to find Angelo"

---------

Angelo was another vampire. He wasn't like Benny. He'd fed off humans up until a hunter had caught up with him. He hated you but feared Benny worse.

"Angelo!" Benny's voice was deep when he called his name. Angelo turned, grimacing when he saw you "Benny and his pet human!" You didn't want to push a fight but rolled your eyes "What landed?" He looked from you to Benny and an almost nervous wave rolled off of him "One of her kind, a human...a hunter and an angel"

Hunter and an angel? Along with the Leviathan being sent back? Could it be Cas and one of the boys? "What area?" You asked and Angelo glared at you before giving the basic direction. "The portal.." Benny reminded you but you shook your head "Please. I need to know" he sighed "Woman you're gonna be the death of me yet"

Dean had turned just a bit too slow, the vamp coming out of nowhere. He dodged the fangs chomping at him, trying to find the handle of his blade before the weight was gone off of him. Another body had tackled the vamp and sliced his head off. To his surprise when he got to his feet the other body belonged to another vamp who was watching him carefully "What? No thanks for saving your hide?"

He held up the blade "Sure. I won't stick this up your ass" a voice he hadn't heard in years and that he'd thought he'd never hear again called out "Dean Winchester, you always were a kinky son of a bitch"

He thought his eyes were playing tricks when you ran out of the woods and to the vampire's side? He spoke your name softly as you whispered to the vampire before turning to face him "Live and in the flesh"

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

You could feel Benny's presence heavy at your back at you turned to face Dean "Live and in the flesh" when you'd said Dean's name Benny's anger had flared, fueled by his want to know why you were left in this place. You'd told him to let you handle it and he promised he would.

Dean looked from you to Benny "How?" He took a step towards you and you felt Benny stiffen slightly "the portal sucked me in Dean. None of you thought to look for me?" "We didn't know sweetheart. I mean everything happened so fast. You disappeared, Cas exploded and we were fucking scrambling"

Angelo said an angel was here? "Cas is dead?" He shook his head "He's here. Somewhere" you nodded "What about Sam, Bobby?" His eyes dropped "Bobby got killed a while back" you felt your knees weaken and Benny's hand shot out to steady you "I'm sorry sweetheart"

Bobby was gone. You'd spent so long thinking he abandoned you and he was dead. "How?" "The head Leviathan shot him" you nodded slowly, pushing tears down. Survival first.

"We know a way out. A portal for humans. I thought God had realized I was here but maybe it reacted to you, the righteous man and his angel" you knew the bitter tinge held to your voice but despite your urge to run to Dean and hug him you couldn't quite help it. "You gotta know I would've come for you. We never would've left you behind.."

You took a step back, bumping into Benny's solid frame "Dean, you're one of my best friends. I absolutely love you but I can't. Not right now. We'll help find Cas then we're getting out of here"

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

What the hell had you lived through to trust a vampire over him? Dean was happy as hell to see you alive, he'd thought he'd lost you. They all had. They'd mourned you, Bobby had blamed himself. You had to know they hadn't abandoned you without a second thought. He watched the vampire you'd introduced as Benny whisper something in your ear and you nod.

He'd find Cas and maybe earn your trust again in the meanwhile too. You called his name and he glanced your way so you motioned around "Benny can kinda get a sense for Cas when we get close enough but we gotta get close enough so our best chance is to hunt, try to find a lead"

He nodded "Sounds like a plan" you glanced back towards Benny then motioned towards the woods "We keep moving"

Benny moved first, keeping you within arm's reach Dean noticed so Dean fell in step next to you "Nix...I'm sorry" you shook your head "We'll talk about it when we get out of here. Guilt, worry... that shit can get you killed. Just stay alive. That's how you can make it up to me"

"Incoming!" Your voice hit Dean and Benny's ears, both men going back to back as you slid into sight a pack of werewolves nipping at your heels. They moved to let you between them before facing the threat.

You and Dean together in this place was proving too much for some of the monsters. Days were turning into 360 combat. Luckily between the three of you, a dance of sort had developed. If you weren't busy fighting yourself you would've been tempted to watch Dean and Benny fight. The two of them together? Was a thing of beauty. They moved like a well oiled machine despite hating each other weeks before.

The pack was quickly put down, the three of you getting a moment to catch your breath and clean blood off your weapons. "Why aren't Leviathan attacking?" You asked and caught Dean shoot Benny a look which was clearly "She really gonna question a bit of good luck?" And nearly laughed "What? Both of you have thought it. You just ain't voiced it"

Benny shrugged "What's it matter Nix? We ain't having to fight those assholes so why question it?" Dean nodded "What the dental apocalypse said" you rolled your eyes at them both "Cmon before that damn rugaru gets away again"

The rugaru ended up being the break you three needed. You stood back next to Benny while Dean "questioned" the rugaru.

You flinched slightly when he screamed out. Killing, you didn't mind but damn Benny had already done a number on the mutt and it hadn't said shit. When Dean twisted the blade the rugaru stammered out that Cas was near the river. Dean looked back at you and you nodded "We know where it is"

He turned back to the rurgaru and slammed a blade up under its chin before it could blink. Dean snatched the blade free once the rugaru went still then looked back at you "How far?" "Bout a day" he nodded "Then lead the way"

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

When you got to the clearing the rugaru had pin pointed you spotted a fugure crouched by the water and nudged Dean. "Cas!" He called out before moving towards him.

You followed Dean, feeling Benny's hand at your lower back to keep you steady should you slip. You watched while Dean hugged Cas. When the angel's eyes found yours they widened so you smiled "Hey Cas"

"How are you here?" He asked and before you could open your mouth Benny replied "The portal you got her sucked into?" You shot him a look so he quieted down.

Dean introduced Benny to Cas and the moment he did Benny asked "Next question, whyd you bail on Dean?" "Dude!" Dean warned but Benny shook his head "Way me and Nix heard the moment you two hit monster land, hot wings here took off. I figure he owes backstory" you had to admire how Benny went from holding you being stuck against Dean to questioning Cas on behalf of Dean.

"I'm sure Cas had his reasons" You tried and Dean nodded "We were surrounded, some freak jumped him and he kicked its ass, right?" your smile fell when Cas replied "No. I ran" "You ran away?" Your own anger flared at that.

Cas explained how Leviathan were hunting him, that he had a price on his head. When Dean got Benny to explain the escape hatch Cas said he wouldn't go until Dean said he wasn't leaving without him. Benny spoke up "One thing clear" he pointed to you "I'm getting her out of here no matter what" you felt both other men's eyes on you and after a moment met their gaze Cas nodded "Ok, I'll go"

You honestly were on the verge of screaming. Benny and Dean argued like children, sprinkle in Cas going on ramblings about the metaphysics of killing a monster in monster heaven you were starting to wonder if whatever kept you from having to sleep in purgatory would also keep you from getting a migraine.

After comments like "undead blood junkie" and retorts of "Scared I'm gonna eat your little piggies?" you finally stopped dead in your tracks causing all three men to look at you "Nix?" Benny and Dean both questioned, assuming you'd heard something they missed.

You crossed your arms "I'm sick of you two. Dean, Benny has kept me alive for this long. I know his past, I know why he quit drinking humans and I fucking trust him. He'll do the right thing when we get out of here"

Before Benny could let the smug smirk slip onto his face you spun on him "Benny, Dean has known me my entire adult life and most of my teens. You have to admit I was skeptical of you at first. He has reasons to be cautious about springing a vamp. Now both of you shake hands or I swear I'm kicking the shit out you both and Cas will take my side"

The fact that both of them cut their eyes at Cas only for him to shrug "I agree with her" a sigh left them both Dean and Benny before they offered their hands at the same time. You smiled when they shook "There? See"

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

It took a total of two months after you found Cas to make it to where the portal was supposed to be. It wouldn't have taken so long but the constant run from Leviathan hadn't helped.

You stood there as Dean pulled a blade out of his jacket "You two ready? Like we talked about?" You nodded so Dean handed you the blade while him and Benny both rolled their sleeves up. Somewhere along the way, the mistrust and inherit hatred turned into a deep bond between the two of them. They were actually friends. They'd also decided together they'd rather risk Dean dragging Benny's soul over should something go wrong.

Benny looked at you and smiled slightly before telling Dean "Putting a lot of trust in you here brother" Dean smiled "You earned it" they gripped each other's arms and Benny winked at you "See yall on the other side"

Watching Benny disappear into Dean's arm was kind of weird but then again what wasn't weird in your life. Dean rolled his sleeve back down despite the glow under his skin that was Benny then nodded to you and Cas "Let's go"

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

You'd almost made it to the portal when Leviathan attacked. You all three were thrown in different directions. You rolled to your feet, slashing the nearest Leviathans head off as Dean and Cas took out the other two.

Dean grabbed your arm "Cmon!" He nodded to Cas. The moment you got close enough to the portal Dean told you to go. You ran through it and after a moment Dean appeared behind you..without Cas. "Where's Cas?" He looked backwards where the portal had disappeared "He didnt make it through"

Tags @123passwort @valeks-star

[krewssleuth]

# _ this is the crime kitchen after all.

ib:: their video (i work at a criminal kitchen) content:: murder, crimes, illegal stuff, it isn't as dark n very generic soo note:: first post let's go! (btw i'm still working on a better post design) help why was this so good?! why do 2am works turn out better than when i'm fully awake. also, i need to find proper ages for them to make it make sense.

The Killer ; Painting Rainbows

- An infamous 'alien hunter' in the community. Lunar knew of her as the head honcho in dealing of illegal items. Rainbow then got in touch with Funneh and thus got hired.

- She used to work at the sandwich store until the owner was arrested. Rainbow wasn't arrested due to the government wanting to hide the truth of aliens existance. She also harvests organs which are mainly hearts but doesn't tell how she got them so as to not get anyone else in trouble for her crimes, which I find pretty sweet (Rainbow being sweet is a canon event!)

The Knockout ; Golden Glare

- A fashionable ex-model, now hired at the Sandwich Store due to her ties with Rainbow. Gold knew her from school as Rainbow was called a 'lunatic' for believing that aliens exist. She didn't mind Rainbow as she found her quite 'normal' and understanding when it's just them two.

- She bought her fame, until one day her manager threatened to expose her. The man has helped her too much and demanded a higher pay. Gold being the greedy woman she was, declined and her manager launched at her with a knife. She was able to kill him out of defence, still traumatised by her actions, yet craving for more. The ex-model served her years for manslaughter, then losing her popularity.

The Mastermind ; Funneh Cake

- A young, avaricious money launderer who continued the business out of fun. Funneh hired Lunar, slowly bonding over time. After Funneh bought the place, she had Lunar and Draco invest in the Sandwich Store. She did find it strange that Gold and Rainbow wanted to work there but didn't question it much.

- She found out about the place from rumours that the place had 'aliens'. The thing that truly caught her interest was guns; a popular illegally-bought item. Who on Earth would buy alien bodies or human hearts? Some Science geek who is unafraid to get arrested? Funneh later got in touch with Draco, a man who could cover up their tracks when needed.

The Mule ; Lunar Eclipse

- A blood-thirsty money mule who knows too much about the dark web. Lunar had searched far and wide for quick cash, for unknown reasons. She was only a few years younger than Funneh, deciding then to be her money mule.

- She started off buying illegal items off of the dark web then selling it to classmates and schoolmates, making sure to make profit. She then crossed paths with Funneh while dealing in an alleyway, until Funneh hired her. Lunar found it strange but wanted the money, and since then they have become two peas in a pod.

The Silencer ; Draconite Dragon

- A quick-witted intelligencer that will do whatever it takes to protect his co-workers. Draco met Funneh through the heads of their respective crime families. She found him useful to the team, while he found her and the group interesting. Almost like he knew them, for a long a time. As though he had talked to them every day, had shared great memories with them, lived happily with the team of five.

- Draco is often at a nearby bar or library, eavesdropping on any information that the police knows about him and the others. He would of course report back to Funneh on anything urgent, not wanting to kill off too many people but still, he makes sure to get rid of any person that could risk the group's lives. The four women were very important to him. He never knew why but will never question his heart and soul.

[ Dyaa M_'s LOG Ended. ]

[redeemingvillains]

the soul's brand (iii) - draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x half-blood fem!reader

summary: you can tell something has changed with draco, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

word count: 1.5k

chapter two series masterlist

Your parents were hesitant to let you go back to school, but as with many parents, they realized that living in a castle with Albus Dumbledore may in fact be the only place that was safe for you to be and relented. You were relieved to have a break from the realities of home, the constant fear, the gut-wrenching news, the curfews that felt like prison bars on your life. You wanted a return to normalcy, even if it was temporary. You were overjoyed to be on the train with your friends, chatting with Hermione, Ron, Harry and Luna catching up on their summers, making the time fly by.

With only about an hour left until arrival, you scooched out of the compartment to track down the trolley, waving at friends and classmates in other compartments as you went. As you edged further towards the back of the train you saw many of the compartments were empty, a grim reminder that fewer students were returning to Hogwarts than usual.

Suddenly, the door to the next train car slid open in front of you and Draco Malfoy stepped forward.

It had been years since you’d spoken, but sometimes you still felt that eleven-year-old girl inside of you when you looked at him. You would always have an immediate, unwarranted, unearned tenderness towards him where other people only felt on edge. You tried to ignore the pounding in your chest as he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone as the train rocked gently back and forth. You searched his eyes to see wisps of grey like dark smoke. He was always impeccably dressed, head-to-toe in black, but you clocked the bags under his eyes. He looked tired, sick even, yet somehow still frustratingly handsome at the same time. You suppressed the urge to hug him, to pull him into your chest. You knew his father had been sent to Azkaban… that must be what's weighing so heavily on him you thought.

“Y/N” he said by way of acknowledgement.

“Draco” you replied. The weight of a thousand words sat unspoken between you like a third passenger in the car.

“Did you have a good summer?” he asked.

“Good as can be, I suppose” you replied, trying to keep the tone light.

He nodded in acknowledgement, realizing in retrospect what a daft question that was. No one had had a good summer.

“Draco, about your dad, I’m so sorry” you continued. His eyes snapped to yours and you worried you had said the wrong thing. You were never scared of Draco, but you knew he had a temper and you had seen it play out with so many of your friends. After everything you’d heard, everything you’d seen, perhaps even as a half-blood you should be afraid of him, but you weren’t.

“Thanks” he said simply, unwilling to believe that you would express compassion towards him or the man that had said so many vile things about you it tossed his mind.

He met your eyes again briefly and you saw something new behind his stormy eyes: anger, pain, but there was also fear and something else you couldn’t quite put a finger on but that made your heart beat a little faster and brought a blush to your cheeks.

“I should –” you gestured to the next car and moved to slide by him in the narrow corridor, close enough that he could smell your perfume, amber and vanilla.

“Yeah” he said in response, trying to nudge out of the way, pulling his hands into fists when his fingers itched to reach for yours, to grab you back to him, to talk to you, to tell you everything, even though he knew you’d never understand.

You slid the door open and exited without looking back.

School proved to be a welcome distraction for everyone. Despite the evidence of extra security, everyone and everything seemed to fall into its normal rhythm, like Hogwarts could remain permanently untouched by the realities of the outside world.

You found yourself thinking back to your interaction with Draco on the train, as you worried your bottom lip back and forth during an early study session. Hermione noticed your distant stare and gently kicked you under the table.

“What’s got you all distracted?” she asked playfully.

She loved goading you on about your love life, hoping that maybe this year you would find somebody that stuck. When you caught her eye, she realized you weren’t that type of distracted. Well, not quite.

“I saw Draco on the train… we… talked” you said in a sigh. She was well aware of your chaotic history with him and despite the fact that he made every inch of her skin crawl, she trusted your judgment and tried her best to support you.

“Oh” she said simply, pursing her lips in response, “And how was that?”

“I’m worried about him” you said.

Hermione’s eyebrow quirked at that. What had this boy ever done over the last five years to be worthy of your concern?

“Y/N” she sighed, putting her quill down, steeling herself to talk you through this once more.

“I know what you’re going to say” you said before she could get started “I just… something’s not right. I know I have no right, no place to care. I just…do.” Your words summed up the feelings Hermione knew you had held in your heart for so many years. Resigned, she grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“He’s not yours to worry about” she said as kindly as possible.

And for once, that seemed to be the problem.

You had never liked potions class, but you were beginning to think that had a lot to do with Professor Snape as you settled into first term with Professor Slughorn. He was quirky and odd but entertaining, like a harmless grandfather who also happened to be extremely smart. You no longer mixed potions that were unmanageably complex and smelled like spoiled milk. He introduced you to new things like Felix Felicis and today, Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in existence.

In a world that had made each of you grow up faster than you should have, it was nice to remember that you were all still teenagers as you stared at the cauldron bubbling in front of the room. It was said to smell differently to each person according to what attracted them and the class eagerly jostled to line up and take their turn smelling it, the girls gushing to one another, the guys feigning disinterest but queuing nonetheless.

You were in line with Hermione and you smiled broadly at each other before stepping forward to smell it. You took a deep inhale as she muttered freshly mown grass, new parchment… and spiraled off. It didn’t hit you at first and you were worried that you were somehow broken, that it wouldn’t work for you, then you smelled the daisies that bloomed in the field by your house, floral and dewy. You smelled warm pumpkin pasties that melted in your mouth on a summer day and the undeniable scent of the expensive cologne that had invaded your senses when you ran into Draco on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione looked at you, eager to hear what you had smelled, her face falling as she registered your expression which was both extremely happy and sad at the same time. And in the wordless way that only a best friend can read you, she tugged your hand and pulled you back to your seat.

Draco was doing a stellar job of acting like he didn’t care about this ridiculous potion, sauntering to the back of the line as Slughorn babbled on about it, but that didn’t stop him from peering around the line to try to steal a subtle glimpse of your reaction, dying to know what you smelled but unable to see your expression. Just as well. He shouldn’t be worried about it. When it was his turn, he barely approached the cauldron, eyeing it skeptically and taking a cursory sniff, but that was all it took for the synapses in his brain to fire at rapid speed: The smell of the tall grass behind his house after a rainfall, fresh and earthy, he could almost feel it tickling his fingers and toes as he ran through it, arms outstretched as he chased you. The richness of pumpkin pasties that melted over sticky fingers in the summer and your amber and vanilla perfume that had nearly brought him to his knees on the train, a scent so distinctly you, so intoxicating that he had to physically pull himself away from the cauldron to keep from putting his head into it.

He collected himself, glanced around and sauntered back to his seat where he spent the rest of the class trying to tame his heartbeat and the wild thoughts of you that ran through his head.

chapter four series masterlist

taglist: @moiravim

[mysteryman-17]

[EDIT 5/11/2023: Be sure to check out the updated version!] The amazing art in this video was made by @bittybattybunny. She did an incredible job bringing the concept I had for this lil project to life; be sure to check out their other work!

You can listen to this track in high quality on my SoundCloud, as well as find the separate vocal and instrumental renders over on Google Drive -- in both WAV and OGG format! (For charters/modders: tempo starts off as 91, but switches to 110 at about 31.681 secs into the song. Time signature for the whole song is 4/4.) In addition, for the first time in almost two years, I’ve mirrored this video on my YouTube!! The rest of the description (including my brief story idea for this concept) is underneath the Read More.

Story: Boyfriend rummages through Snatcher's things in his tree. The Subcon Minions notice and quickly try to get him to leave, figuring Snatcher will be mad. He is, but not enough to actively hunt down a nuisance that's already leaving. BF is walking out of Subcon Forest as heard in the very start of the song, the old stuff he rummaged through still fresh in his mind as he takes in the once-beautiful scenery. But all of a sudden (at 0:31 in the track,) he trips one of the forest's many traps and is dragged into Snatcher's contract-signing dimension. Snatcher pops up excitedly, looking forward to tormenting someone with the prospect of menial labor (followed by death!) ...But then he sees that it's BF again, and is basically like "bruh..." But hey, a soul's a soul, so he's just gonna get this over with. Or so he thinks.

Ladies and gents, behold: my first "proper" FNF-styled track!! So firstly, like, I am genuinely shocked that I'm THE FIRST ONE to try to make a ground-up FNF track for Snatcher. I can't even find an actual track based on Your Contract Has Expired anywhere (only direct ports with random charts slapped on top,) and that's essentially the Megalovania of A Hat In Time!! ...Anyhow, upon seeing this shocking gap in the FNF fandom's musical lineup, I knew I had to TRY to throw my hat into the ring with this at least once -- I figured at this point that if I didn't do it, chances were slim to none that anyone else would. As for how I decided to go about working on this track: Oh It's You left me so much room for jazzy swagger, and Alpha Bookstore brought the potential to integrate his tragic backstory as the Prince into the mix. I also directly sampled Snatcher's Contractual Obligations for a better transition between the two initial sections lmao. I wanted to have the best of both worlds shine here, and sort of "sum up" Snatcher: a spooky, pompous bastard with a dark sense of humor, but also one that once had a heart of gold long ago (and maybe still *has* a hint of the old him in there... somewhere. If you squint hard enough.) It was tricky to get certain things sounding as I wanted them to, especially since I was worried the two tracks might not fuse well! All in all tho, I am incredibly satisfied with how this turned out, and I hope you all enjoy.

[margindoodles2407]

Hey I had some Thoughts (tm) about my guy Obes Kenobes so have a thing I wrote

You have made so many promises in your life. 

You remember the first promise you ever made, you can call it to your mind like you can call your azure blade to your hand. You are seven years old, and you promise your crechemaster that you’ll go to bed at bedtime instead of sitting awake and giggling with Bant into the wee hours of the morning.

The next promise you make, you are fourteen and you are promising in front of the whole Council that you will serve and obey the tall man who has taken you as his apprentice. You can’t tell if it’s his hands or the promise itself that weighs heavy on your shoulders.

The third promise is made to yourself at sixteen, when you swear that you won’t fall hopelessly in love with the stately blonde girl who grates on your nerves and can see right through you as if you were one of her people’s famous glassworks. The fourth is made to her, when your oath to yourself falls flat on its face.

The fifth promise you make, you are eighteen years old, and you hold the man who has been like your father in your arms as he dies. Your apprenticeship was rocky, and the two of you butted heads more than you’d care to admit, but as he grows cold and the light fades from his eyes you feel like a youngling again, alone and afraid in the vast, dark galaxy. You weep.

The sixth promise is made only a few days later, to the boy with sandy hair and sun-kissed skin and eyes that can cut right through you, see you down to your bones, the boy that your master knew would change the world. You promise him, with tear tracks still wet on your pale cheeks, that you’ll train him, you’ll protect him and help him and be his friend. His brother.

The seventh promise is to the woman who was once a girl, once a queen and now a senator, when you say you’ll track down the man endangering her life. When that promise leads you to a planet that shouldn’t exist, an army forged in the darkest chasms of space and the oceans, and a thousand men all with the same face, you wonder- not for the first time- if your promises are dangerous.

You make so many promises during the war that you lose count. You make promises to the Council, to your men, your friends and your family and even to your enemies. You swear up and down, oath after oath after oath—

And in the end, your promises all crumble like the rocks beneath your brave mount’s feet, as your once-loyal Commander orders his men to fire on you. They are cut down like your dearest Jedi family in the Temple.

They burn, like the boy you raised and befriended and bickered with and loved, the man whose hair was always grainy with the sand he despised and whose skin remained sun-kissed and tanned like a little boy’s even as it became littered with scars and wrinkled with stress, whose eyes, which had always been dark blue, could always see right through your sarcasm and your needling to your worries and your pain and always, always, knew exactly what to say to make you laugh despite yourself– and now those eyes are a sick, burning yellow, and you can’t bear to look but you can’t break eye contact, because despite it all you love him still.

You don’t make any more promises for a long time. Everyone you’ve ever made a promise to has died, in horrible, terrible ways. Your promises are dangerous. This is something you have come to know.

Then one day, a little girl tumbles into your life as her parents did so many years before, a little girl who looks just like her mother but has her father’s soul, and you almost- almost- make a promise to her. She heals you in all the ways you never knew you needed healing, and you want to. But your promises are dangerous. So instead, you give her an assurance. A perhaps, if someday she ever needs help from a tired old man.

Someday, she does.

And that someday brings another, a boy who doesn’t quite tumble into your life the way his parents and sister did, a boy with his mother’s bleeding heart and fierce determination and a boy who is so much like his father that it almost hurts. You promise nothing to the boy. Your promises are dangerous.

But- unexpectedly- he makes promises to you.

And then you die. You’re cut down by the man who was your brother, and the boy and the girl can do nothing but watch, and cry, and go on to wage a war against the man they do not know is their father.

But you are not gone. Death is nothing but the gateway to eternal life. You remain, and you continue to watch over the boy, the boy who promised to you, and for the first time since his father fell, you make a promise.

The Force will be with you. Always.

[blackjackkent]

Jaheira, understandably, is pretty upset about the whole Marcus situation.

"Isobel! Are you all right? Marcus has been with us from the start - they've been tracking us this whole time. And that was no random attack. You were the target, Isobel. They know how important you are."

She turns to look thoughtfully at Hector, who is carefully cleaning Marcus's blood off his quarterstaff.

"But they don't know about *you*," she says pensively. "Ketheric will strike again. We need you to strike first."

Hector pauses in the process of sheathing his weapon and blinks at her. "Who *is* Ketheric?" he asks. He knows he's heard the name before...but as a Sharran, not whatever he's become since.

"General Ketheric Thorm," Jaheira says grimly, and her face twists into a dark expression of hate. "Remember that name. He's the leader of the Absolutists." She shakes her head sharply. "He was a Sharran once - took to building an army of Dark Justiciars beneath this very village. Alongside the local druids, we made it our business to see him deposed - dead and buried."

Her scowl deepens. "But he's returned. Not only does General Ketheric Thorm live again, it seems he is no longer mortal. He has become, in fact, invincible."

"A Sharran?" Shadowheart murmurs - not loud enough for Jaheira to hear, but loud enough to reach Hector's ears. "Perhaps someone I should seek out."

Hector doesn't respond, but he does hear a slight shift as Gale elbows her sharply in the ribs.

"We met him on the road here - commanding an army of the Absolute," Jaheira goes on. "I put an arrow through his eye myself, only to watch him pluck it out like a splinter. A man doe snot return from the dead and become impervious to arrows out of nowhere." Her eyes narrow. "There is magic at work - strong, arcane, and most likely necromantic."

(A/N: Is she thinking, I wonder, of the battle in Saradush, so many years ago - of the Bhaalspawn Yaga-Shura who had his own heart removed and burned in magical fire to acquire his invulnerability? Is she remembering her old friend, Caden, and how he eventually found the key to toppling that giant? Perhaps that is why she is so confident that there is also a way for Hector to find.)

"He healed right in front of me and chased us into the shadows. We took shelter here, and were considering a full retreat - until you came along." She shrugs slightly, helplessly. "I don't know why he's waiting, why he's not marching his army west as we speak. But as long as he remains, there's still a chance."

She meets Hector's gaze squarely. "You are that chance. Protected by your artifact, you can infiltrate Moonrise Towers, posing as a True Soul. Discover the source of his immortality. Make him mortal, so we can make him bleed."

Another task, another trial, another goal, another knot to unravel. In a way, it's nothing new - infiltrating Moonrise was already the plan. But he is developing a real laundry list of things to do while he's in there.

He inclines his head slowly at her, wordlessly, and she nods back. "Good luck," she says, and sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.

"We're in more danger than I knew," Isobel says with a worried sigh. "If something happens to me, everyone in this inn is dead. Like that."

Hector raises an eyebrow at her. "Marcus told me Ketheric wanted you captured, not killed. Why is that?"

She shrugs uncertainly. "Why does a man like him do anything? Power, spite, some kind of twisted, personal morality..." She huffs out a breath through her nose, an expression of frustration. "I can understand why he'd want me dead. Without me keeping the curse at bay, everyone in this inn - everyone intent on killing him - is dead too. As for why he'd keep me *alive*...I don't know. And I don't want to find out."

She looks up at him with gratitude, almost with reverence. "Now that we have you, I hope I won't have to."

He shifts uncomfortably. There is too much at stake for him to back down, and yet the pressure is starting to become almost too much to bear. He closes his eyes, struggles to find the centered place inside himself again, to ground himself in the moment. The warmth of Selune's blessing is still here, and he focuses on it, lets it fill his consciousness until the agitation subsides.

All things with her strength... he reminds himself.

Opening his eyes, he nods firmly. "Once I take Ketheric's head, you'll be safe again."

She nods, and he isn't sure he's imagining the thrum of power, of his Lady's voice layered through hers. "No mercy. For Ketheric will have none on you. End this."

[endlich-allein]

"There's a rather remarkable feature on Kovacs' new album: none other than Rammstein's Till Lindemann lends his voice to the hyper-personal title track 'Child Of Sin'. The singer from Brabant explains how that came about. "It turns out that I lived 500 meters from him without knowing it."

Yes, it's quite a gap, from 2018 to 2023. Longer than the intention was to come up with a new album. But yes, as it goes: Kovacs wanted a new manager, a new label, she was struggling with herself, and then covid came. 'Life', concludes the singer, who is currently putting the dots on the i with regard to her album Child Of Sin. "I've come to realize more and more that I just have to be independent. I was with Warner for years, but it didn't quite work. There were too many people with ideas, it was getting further and further away from me. The past few years have been quite intense mentally. Music was always my outlet, and it didn't really work anymore. That means you have to go back to yourself. I now live in a converted pigsty in my parent's backyard. I started painting, taught myself how to sew. And I started making music.”

We first met Sharon Kovacs in 2016, when she debuted with the album Shades Of Black and the beautiful single 'My Love', a cinematic soul pop anthem reminiscent of the great songs of Shirley Bassey and the well-crafted modern soul of Amy Winehouse. And Kovacs is not a far cry from those big stars. It is a special one, you saw and heard that immediately. In interviews she revealed herself and her violent past. She was abused at a young age, which left traces throughout her childhood. “I never knew my biological father, my mother was not ready for children,” she sums up. ‘I was largely raised by my grandparents, but when I was eleven I was removed from home. As I grew up, I became sexually weird and very active, very young. People thought that was gross, and I always had the feeling that there was something "dirty" about me. In recent years I have been going back to the child in me a lot in therapy. I've had to tell that kid over and over that it's okay, that it's not her fault."

Master of suffering

A child for gallows and wheel, or as Kovacs calls it in her song: 'Child Of Sin'. It is her most intimate, vulnerable song to date, as she has to peel off the protective layers she built around herself after being abused at a young age. “Many times I thought I made it all up. I was also misunderstood at the time, and my abuser tried to manipulate me in all sorts of ways. My family now recognizes things retrospectively, and it's a dark thought that many things that have happened in my life were not necessary. I felt unsafe.”

It's no wonder that Kovacs didn't really dare to sing this song on her own. And when her manager asked if she wouldn't mind recording it as a duet, only one name came to mind: Till Lindemann, lead singer of Rammstein. A band where Kovacs felt a connection from an early age - from the time when MTV played 'Sonne' non-stop. And a song like 'Puppe' from 2019, where the main character pulls the head off a doll in a blind rage, hits Kovacs. Till Lindemann, a master at portraying suffering and not afraid to dig deep into himself. But yes, the frontman of just about the largest touring rock band in Europe. “I thought: I know someone who has worked with him in Berlin. I have one chance.”

500 meter

And miraculously, that attempt arrived. There was no record company or publisher involved. It was Lindemann himself who called: 'I heard that we are going to record a duet.' Kovacs: 'He thought it was a beautiful song, and he invited me to his house. It turns out that I lived 500 meters from him in Berlin for a year, and he sometimes visits places in the city where I also like to go. What kind of places? Um, I don't know, haha. Till was very cooperative and interested. He wanted to know the context, he wanted me to feel comfortable with it. We have built a special relationship. He calls me "my crazy friend". If I had been with a label this would never have worked, it would have been printed. I did all this alone.”

Lindemann sings the second verse of 'Child Of Sin', in English. That was what he wanted most, says Kovacs. And the collaboration didn't stop there, because the German also came to Amsterdam to record a video clip. “He was very sweet,” says Kovacs of that day. “He said to me at one point: you flutter like a bat, take it easy! Yes, I know, I replied. I just want the best for your baby. He really understands how important this is to me.”

The album Child Of Sin can be listened to everywhere from today, and the video clip with Till Lindemann will also be released this afternoon."

[badger-bear]

Even though I’m not reading fan fiction anymore, I thought it would be fun to keep track of what I read each month. I bought a reading journal in November and it has changed me for the better lol it’s so much easier keeping track. I still haven’t decided if I’m going to track the books I DNF but I’ll figure it out eventually. Anyway here are the books I read this month! The title in bold is my favorite book of the month.

Wait For It by Mariana Zapata (4 ⭐️)

If anyone ever said being an adult was easy, they hadn't been one long enough.

Diana Casillas can admit it: she doesn't know what the hell she's doing half the time. How she's made it through the last two years of her life without killing anyone is nothing short of a miracle. Being a grown-up wasn’t supposed to be so hard.

With a new house, two little boys she inherited the most painful possible way, a giant dog, a job she usually loves, more than enough family, and friends, she has almost everything she could ever ask for.

Except for a boyfriend.

Or a husband.

But who needs either one of those?

Hans by S. J Tilly (5 ⭐️)

CASSIE

How to make the handsome, brooding man across the street notice me.

Step one: Deliver baked goods to his front porch, even though he never answers his door and always returns the containers when I'm not home.

Step two: Slowly lose my mind as a whole year passes without ever running into him, no matter how hard I try.

Step three: Have my boudoir photos accidentally delivered to his mailbox instead of mine. Have him open the package. Then have him storm into my home for the most panty-melting scolding of my life.

Step four: Still figuring out step four.

HANS

I'm a dangerous man.

A man who has spent the last two decades removing so many souls from this earth that it's a miracle my hands aren't permanently stained red.

I'm a man who belongs in the shadows.

I certainly don't belong in my pretty little neighbor's bedroom when she's not home, touching her things and inhaling her scent.

I shouldn't follow her. Shouldn't watch her. Because no number of cookies on my doorstep will change the fact that love isn't an option for me.

The only option left for me is violence.

The Perfect Fit by Sadie Kincaid (4 ⭐️)

One wannabe writer from Brooklyn.

Three insanely hot billionaires.

One very indecent proposal.

West Archer, Ezekiel Cavanagh, and Xander King. AKA The Unholy Trinity. Ruthless. Ambitious. Intimidating.

With dark tastes and even darker desires, they’ve been searching for the perfect woman to fit into their unique lifestyle for over a decade. But despite their best efforts, none have made it past three months. Believing they’re destined to never find the one, they swear to stop looking.

Until they meet Lily.

There’s something about Lily Sloane, something that captivates all three of them. For the first time ever, it seems like they may have truly found the perfect fit. But as we all know, there is such a thing as too good to be true.

Lily Sloane isn’t the penniless girl from Brooklyn they think she is. And with a past full of secrets and lies that she’s trying to escape, the unholy trinity might have bitten off more than they can chew. When trust is broken, is there any way back?

Knox by Kate Oliver (2 ⭐️)

Knox

When she came in to buy a gun, I knew she was in trouble. This isn't my first rodeo. What I didn't expect was to have my Daddy senses go into high gear.

Addie

My life was going well until I got the call that my past was coming to haunt me. Although I don't want it, I may have to accept help from a man who calls to my Little side. He's dark and dangerous and he would never understand my needs. But he says he will protect me and I can use all the help I can get.

Ash by Kate Oliver (2 ⭐️)

Kylie

In high school, he had saved her from a bully who had cornered her at a party that she shouldn’t have even been at. Then he called her Little Girl and threatened to spank her bottom if she wasn’t more careful with her safety. She was the dorky girl with glasses and braces, and he was her secret crush, the "bad boy" that all the girls swooned over. And even though they hadn't spoken since that night, she still fantasized about being put over his knee.

Ash

He was the “bad boy” then, and the label still fits. But now, he only did bad things to help those who needed his protection. He had been called Daddy many times over the years, but no one had affected him like the little girl from his past who was standing in front of him at the club, drunk and telling him that she had been fantasizing about him since high school.

Recipe for Love by Anne Malcom (4 ⭐️)

Nora Henderson is of the opinion that chocolate cures almost everything.

Which, among a few other reasons, is why she opened her bakery in the small town of Jupiter, Maine five years ago.

People come from miles for her chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. Customers almost come to blows over the last almond croissant. Some even say her chocolate chip cookies help ease the burn of heartbreak.

Nora’s life is good. On the surface, at least.

Underneath the frosting and the sweet décor of her bakery is a broken engagement, doubt and anxiety spirals.

In short, Nora Henderson is a mess.

Not someone Rowan Derrick would ever be interested in. He’s the gruff veteran who owns a construction company, who broods his way around town and can wear the crap out of a backward baseball cap.

He stars in almost every one of her fantasies. She expected him to stay there, to remain her imaginary boyfriend and customer … nothing else.

But Rowan Derrick has had his eye on Nora for a while. Little does she know, she stars in every one of his fantasies too. And now that the beautiful baker is no longer engaged, he’s going to make her his.

Nero by S.J Tilly (4⭐️)

Payton

Running away from home at 17 wasn’t easy. Let’s face it though, nothing before, or in the ten years since, has ever been easy for me.

And I’m doing okay. Sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people’s way, off people’s minds.

So when a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home, and my life, I should be scared. Frightened. Terrified.

But I must be more broken than I realized, because I’m none of those things.

I’m intrigued.

And I’m wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.

Nero

The first time I took a man’s life, I knew there’d be no going back. No normal existence in the cards for me.

So instead of walking away, I climbed a mountain of bodies, and created my own destiny. By forming The Alliance.

And I was fine with that. Content enough to carry on.

Until I stepped through those open doors, and into her life.

I should’ve walked away. Should’ve gone right back out the door I came through. But I didn’t.

And now her life is in danger.

But that’s the thing about being a bad man. I’ll happily paint the streets red to protect what’s mine.

And Payton is mine. Whether she knows it or not.

King by S.J Tilly (4⭐️) this was technically a reread but I couldn’t remember how it ended and since I read Hans and Nero, I figured I would read it again.

Okay, so, my bad for assuming the guy I was going on a date with wasn’t married. And my bad for taking him to a friend’s house for dinner, only to find out my friend is also friends with his wife. Because, in fact, he is married. And she happens to be at my friend’s house because her husband was busy working.

Confused? So am I.

Unsurprisingly, my date’s wife is super angry about finding out that her husband is a cheating asshole.

Girl, I get it.

Then, to make matters more convoluted, there is the man sitting next to my date’s wife. A man named King, who is apparently her brother, and who lives up to his name.

And since my date is a two-timing prick, I’m not going to feel bad about drooling over King, especially since I’ll never see him again.

Or at least I don’t plan to.

I plan to take an Uber to the cheater’s apartment to get my car keys.

I plan for it to be quick.

And if I had to list a thousand possible outcomes… witnessing my date’s murder, being kidnapped by his killer, and then being forced to marry the super attractive but clearly deranged crime lord, would not have been on my Bingo card.

But alas, here I am.

Gravity by Tal Bauer (5⭐️)

Bryce:

Hockey is my life. This game pulled me from my tiny Quebec hometown all the way to the NHL, and now? I’m the number one player in the league. Team capitaine for the Montréal Étoiles. I’m shattering records and packing arenas every night, and I’ve promised my team: we’re going to win the Stanley Cup this year.

But I’m keeping big secrets. I'm thinking dangerous thoughts, and dreaming about impossible things. Like how a man’s lips might taste, or how his body might feel in my arms.

I can’t go there. I’ve got to focus. Team. Hockey. Cup. What my heart wants doesn’t matter.

So why am I falling head over heels at the NHL's All-Star Weekend?

I can’t do this. I can’t fall for Hunter Lacey. He’s a hockey player. We’re both in the NHL. He’s on a different team. And, oh yeah, he’s straight.

Hunter:

I’m a middle-of-the-road, nothing-special hockey player. Good enough to be drafted into the NHL, and I’ve been on the roster for the past two years, but I’ll never make the Hall of Fame. I’m just trying to keep my head up and get through each day, until this wild ride comes to an end.

Deep thinking isn’t really my thing. Look inside myself? Lotta beer and burgers there.

I never thought I’d be invited to the All-Star Weekend, but here I am. And there’s my hero: Bryce Michel, league superstar.

Saying hello to Bryce turns into hours spent together on the ice, and then an invite to dinner, and then days at each other's side. I’m in heaven. He’s my hero, and this is the coolest—

Then Bryce’s lips land on mine, and the world turns upside down.

Ryder by Jacki James (1⭐️)

Having a meltdown in the local hardware store isn’t the best way to find the man of your dreams. Or is it?

Brennan Taylor is at the end of his rope, and the busted pipe under his kitchen sink was the last straw. He knows nothing about plumbing, or any of the other things his father says a grown man should know, but lucky for him he is about to lose it in front of the perfect man to help him.

Ryder Davis didn’t go to the hardware store intending to play hero. He went after a new faucet for his bathroom. But when he saw the angel in the plumbing aisle, it was obvious Brennan needed someone to step in and fix things for him. No problem, saving a beautiful man in distress was something Ryder was happy to do.

Fixing Brennan’s plumbing turns into fixing his employment situation, and then right on to fixing his single status. But will Brennan’s determination to be the kind of man he thinks he is supposed to be keep him from being the boy a Daddy like Ryder needs?

You Can Count On Me by Fae Quinn (3⭐️)

They say you should love thy neighbor, but I don’t think they meant it the way I want to love mine.

Miles “Rooster” Johnson: As a young single-dad with a teaching job, I haven’t had much opportunity to date. My son is my entire world, and though I would love to have a partner and someone to count on, the passing years have shown that it’s just not in the cards for me. So when the gorgeous lumberjack of a man—the same man that I’ve had a massive crush on since the moment we became neighbors—suddenly asks me out on a date, I’m completely blindsided. Trent could have anyone he wants. He’s charming, flirtatious, and outgoing—the exact opposite of my awkward, anxious self. I don’t know what he sees in me. All I know for sure is that I absolutely need to make this date go well.

Trent Montgomery: I know I have a playboy reputation in our small town, but there’s nothing wrong with playing the field. It’s worked for me so far, even if I have felt some discontent lately. My mama thinks I need to settle down and find someone nice. But she doesn’t understand that I’m just not ready. No matter how beautiful and tempting my neighbor Rooster is or how eager I am to get the silent mountain of a man to open up—no matter how adorable his little boy is, even when he’s threatening me at bat-point to take his daddy out on a date—I know I can’t be everything that they need. I agreed to ask Rooster out, but I think maybe I made a big mistake. All I know for sure is that I absolutely need to sabotage this date.

Bad Idea by Lily Harlem (1⭐️)

Roughneck Riders are not an MC club you mess with, least of all their rough and tough gang leader Heavy. But Heavy has a secret that has to be kept, no matter what—his heart belongs to a man. It shouldn’t. He’s supposed to be into women, like the other guys in the club. Junk is just too cute to resist, though. Add in his delectable body, his sweet submission and his willingness to accept Heavy’s sadism, and the couple are a perfect match.

Junk’s a probie, proving his worth to the club and demonstrating his mechanical know-how. He’s lived on the edge for a long time, flitting from one place to the next. But now that he’s settling in as a Roughneck, life is looking up. Not least because he’s in love—soul-eating, cock-thickening obsessive love. He can’t tell anyone about his desire for Heavy, but what he can do is push his lover’s buttons, all day, in full view of everyone, until he’s damned sure the night will bring a whole host of sinful delights and wicked punishments that will leave him marked, bruised and most of all, wholly satisfied.

Between Love and Loathing by Shain Rose (4⭐️)

Fake dating my enemy so I can design my dream bakery should be easy … as long as I don't fall in love with him.

Dominic Hardy might be an award-winning architectural engineer with fancy degrees and considerable accolades, but he doesn’t know a thing about baking.

He doesn’t even like sugar.

So when my late stepfather’s will states that Dominic Hardy is set to inherit the Pacific Coast Resort he’d painstakingly designed, as long as my bakery can be plopped in the middle of it, it’s no surprise he balks.

And my jaw drops when another stipulation requires us to mutually approve plans for my bakery’s design.

His stuffy taste will never mix with my whimsical vibe.

But then Dominic comes to me with a proposal I can’t refuse. He’ll give me everything I want in my bakery as long as I agree to one thing:

Fake date him for five months.

Keep his ex away by pretending we’re in love.

Smile and stare into his piercing green eyes at a gala or two.

Maybe share a kiss.

Nothing extreme.

Five months of acting in love when I really loathe him and his filthy mouth.

Even when he’s using it on me.

This should be a cakewalk.

Except there’s a fine line between love and loathing, and I think I’ve made the colossal mistake of blurring it.

Unloved by Marley Valentine (3⭐️)

We longed. We lost. We loved. Desperately.

I thought I had my life all figured out. But after a college football accident leaves me deaf, I was learning how to live all over again.

I expected the anger, the frustration, and the struggle to readjust, but what I didn’t expect to happen amongst the chaos, was to fall in love.

Especially not with two men.

Rough-edged puzzle pieces, Rhys, Samuel, and I were nothing but aching memories, painful realities, and hidden scars.

We were products of our pasts, abandoned and unloved, messy and complicated. Individually we had baggage; together we had mountains to climb.

But when the three of us were tangled up in one another, spilling secrets in the dark, hearts beating in sync, nothing else mattered but them.

We needed to break the cycle, because they deserved love… And who knows, maybe I finally did too.

On The Mountain by Riley Hart (3⭐️)

One feels he’s not worthy of love. The other fears he doesn't know how. But the sizzling chemistry between them has both tempted to explore the unknown.

Cyrus

I was intrigued by Crow at first glance. Who wouldn't be? He's a mountain of a man, who was raised in a cult, and now lives secluded in the wilderness. But the draw I feel to him goes beyond mild interest. When his intense gaze falls my way it feels like he can see into my soul, to my deepest yearnings and desires.

I took a bold chance venturing to his mountain uninvited. But I can't help myself. Despite Crow’s dangerous facade, I feel at home when I’m near him. I've never felt wanted or needed… until the mountain man took me in his arms.

Crow

The mountain is my home, the only place that truly suits me. I reveled in my solitude... until Cyrus showed up looking as lonely as I felt. The warmth in his gaze made me welcome someone into my home and my heart for the very first time.

The way he smells. The way he feels. I come apart with his every touch. The past haunts us both. Yet when we’re together the weight of them is more manageable. Cyrus is mine and I don’t ever want to let him go. Still, I fear eventually he’ll want to leave the mountain... and for the first time in my life, I don’t want to be alone.

Latte Darling by S.J Tilly (5⭐️)

I have a nice life - living in my hometown, owning the coffee shop I’ve worked at since I was 16.

It’s comfortable.

On paper.

But I’m tired of doing everything by myself. Tired of being in charge of every decision in my life.

I want someone to lean on. Someone to spend time with. Sit with. Hug.

And I really don’t want to go to my best friend’s wedding alone.

So, I signed up for a dating app, and agreed to meet with the first guy that messaged me.

And now here I am, at the bar.

Only it’s not my date that just sat down in the chair across from me. It’s his dad.

And holy hell, he’s the definition of Silver Fox. If a Silver Fox can be thick as a house, have piercing blue eyes and tattoos from his neck down to his fingertips.

He’s giving me Big Bad Wolf vibes. Only instead of running, I’m blushing. And he looks like he might just want to eat me whole.

Ruthless King by Sienna Cross (2⭐️)

Sold to the mob.

Four words I never thought I'd utter.

Worse, it was my father who did the unthinkable.

When the creditors come to collect, I'm handed over to the most ruthless man in New York City--Luca Valentino.

The head of the notorious Kings is as gorgeous as he is lethal. Dark, possessive, and violent. Nothing like the boy I grew up with, my dead brother's best friend.

And now I'm his…

The longer I spend in this gilded cage, the more certain I become he will ruin me for anyone else

One click now to devour this spicy, enemies-to-lovers mafia romance. I dare you not to fall for Luca Valentino!

Omega for the Mafia Boss by Aria Grace and Jena Wade (1⭐️)

Forced marriages usually aren't fated. Except for those that are...As the eldest alpha in his family, Andro is expected to take over control of the family when his father retires as the patriarch. But before that can happen, tradition dictates that Andro must be mated. And not just mated, but married. Only problem is that Andro has zero interest in taking a mate...or husband.Joseph is the youngest son of the Santoro family...and the only omega. He's treated like dirt but he dutifully manages the books and does what his father asks of him--legal or otherwise.When Andro gets the bright idea to kidnap the mistreated Joey Santoro and force him to become his mate, he has no idea what that could possibly lead to. Both of their lives are changed forever...and their priorities quickly shift away from the families they were raised in to the family they are raising together.

Viciously Yours by Jamie Applegate Hunter (3⭐️)

When Rennick was thirteen, the gods bestowed upon him the name of his fated mate--a human (italics) girl. As the sole heir to the Mountain Kingdom, magic bound him to his kingdom until he ascended the throne on his twenty-fifth birthday, and as a human, she couldn't cross the magical barrier separating the humans from the fae. Heartsore and consumed with thoughts of her, he did the only thing he could and sent her anonymous letters and gifts…

Until he crossed the barrier into her kingdom to claim her as his own.

Six months after Amelia's thirteenth birthday, she received a strange letter from a fae boy claiming her as his mate. Humans weren't taught much about the fae, and one look at the horrifying doll meant to be her belated birthday gift solidified her suspicions that someone was playing a cruel joke. Except the letters and odd gifts kept coming. Against her better judgment, Amelia fell in love with her mysterious admirer throughout the years, certain they would never meet. But on her twenty-fifth birthday, her walk to work was interrupted by two familiar words she'd read a million times.

"Hello, love."