#to be clear i understand why the werewolves all have black hair in this
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rxttenfish · 11 days ago
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so the audiobook ive been listening to is mongrels by stephen graham jones, and. listen. its one of the best realistic takes on what life as a werewolf in the modern era would actually be like and feel like, and i have a great respect and love for it even thus far.
but. but. i am entitled to a bit of nitpicking.
and its that they kind of laugh off the idea of a blonde werewolf by citing biology, that it wouldnt be able to hide or camouflage, which is just close enough to what a lot of armchair biologists like to cite at me when i do spec evo and its earned a chip on my shoulder.
like. leopards. leopards are a lovely golden color and they are the large cat with the largest distribution across a variety of habitats. jaguars are very similarly colored. jackals are often a lovely golden to blonde color. you get a lot of light brown to blonde coyotes. white tailed deer are also often very lightly colored, resembling a "dirty blonde". snow leopards are often more blonde or yellow than a lot of people will give them credit for. theres a LOT of golden and blonde animals that do VERY well in a VARIETY of habitats!! all of the habitats they describe as ideal for werewolves (currently in the south and southeast, formerly did very well in the north but left because they could be tracked in the snow, otherwise well adapted for snow) would also work very very well for blonde werewolves too!!!
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neuroprincess · 1 year ago
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Broken Rules - Larissa Weems/Female Reader
Larissa Weems/Female Reader
Summary: An unfair deal, that's all Y/N gets from Larissa and was enough until it wasn't anymore. After a few glasses of wine and sudden courage she questions the woman, this could work or ruin everything for good.
Classification: +18, Angst, Slight Smut, Fluff
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, arguing, harsh words, swearing, slight sex, injury, denial of feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, hurt/comfort
Word count: +6400
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Unrevised
There are three essential rules for this deal, in black and white, very clear imposed since the first night they spent together. The third is crystal clear, not least, never spend the night, this one is understandable considering the academy and how awkward a teacher leaving the principal's living quarters so early would be. That's the excuse Y/N gives herself every time she has to sneak through the halls of Nevermore in the middle of the night. Second rule, never tell anyone. This kills her inside, in these months all she wants to do in good and bad moments is to share with someone about how she feels, not even with the blonde can she talk because it would imply the first and most important rule. No falling in love, which means they don't talk about anything but professional matters, they don't kiss unless they are having sex and that is all Y/N can get out of this deal. Sex. Stress relief. Sometimes some sexual gift, nothing personal.  
The teacher repeats the rules mentally as she serves herself with a glass of wine, standing with back to her mistress who finishes paperwork at the office desk. Well, she arrived at the appointed time, but Larissa ended up delaying some important matters and now has to finish. Y/N asked if she should leave, receiving only a negative nod. The week was more exhausting than usual, a visit from a couple of parents for an unexpected situation, some student managed to break the plumbing of the bathroom sink and a gorgon accidentally petrified his friend, all problems that earned her complex resolutions, headache and extra paperwork to fill out. 
"So, why the parents came here?" she asks, still not turning around, putting the bottle in the same place and raising the glass to lips, sipping the sweet liquid "Both Nikolas and Lucinda are great kids." 
"They really are, but none of their families support the relationship between vampires and werewolves. Nothing that you, being a normie, understand."  
"Well, I may not be an outcast, but I live with them every day and I am in this world. You are one of those who advocates harmony between normies and outcasts, I don't understand..."  
"It's not the same thing." the blonde says simply and shrugs, her tone of voice unchanged, eyes still fixed on the printed words.  
Y/N huffs and takes a generous sip of wine, feeling the burning in the throat from alcohol, sorrow and a little bit of anger. She stares at her boss, clothes perfectly clean and well ironed, the red lipstick highlighting her fleshy lips, hair styled, long fingers wandering across the surface and blue eyes standing out in the whole scene, literally a sight to take breath away and maybe the rest of the sanity the younger still possesses after swallowing the entire contents of the glass in seconds. The glass is filled again and soon is empty, this repeats until she drinks the fourth in a row, the burning no longer bothers her, the heat rises through her body, head spins for a millisecond before turning to face Larissa again. She sighs and walks at a slow pace until she is in front of the large desk, her mind once full of things to say slowly becoming blank, void, just as it always is around the tall woman. Perhaps this is the spell and reason for them to continue in this unfair deal, it's like the white witch has put a spell on the simple peasant human, who would kiss her feet in adoration. 
"What?" Weems asks raising her gaze for the first time since the other entered the room, a little annoyed by the sudden proximity "Did you drink before coming here?" the teacher just denies with a nod, continuing to stare at her with a neutral expression "So why do you look like shit? You know, I don't care, as long as you didn't show up in front of the students like that."  
The words sound normal to her, but to Y/N it's a painful feeling in the chest similar to an anvil being thrown, hurts, weighs down and she can't move staying in the same place. The neutral expression falls apart, eyes instantly getting watery and whole face burning as she fights the imminent cry, in fact she only realizes she is crying when a drop hits the document in front of her, the first of many that start to fall even though she tries to contain them. She knows she doesn't look like shit but at most blushing after drinking. There is no way she looks like shit because between the end of classes and going to the principal's office passed by her own dorm to get ready, try to look impeccable for their weekly "date", put on her new dress bought a few weeks ago on a visit to Jericho, touched up the daily makeup, brushed hair and put on her favorite perfume, the only one that didn't make Larissa complain.  
"Y/N?" the voice is low and nonchalant when she calls her, with a hint of concern that goes unnoticed.  
"I don't look like shit...I've tidied myself up, my hair is in place, I'm smelling good.... Why the hell do you hate me?" she asks finally after trying to defend herself uselessly, they are simply unimportant words when a dull expression takes over the blonde's face and then surprise at the question "You always act like I'm inferior, then say I look like shit and accuse me of getting drunk around the students, something I would never do because I love and respect them. Am I such a cheap person to you?"
"I didn't mean that..."  
"Then what did you mean?" the question is angry, totally emotional, and the voice comes out ragged, raw with genuine desire to understand the other woman.  
"Y/N, you are on dangerous ground, this is against our deal." Larissa says gently after pulling herself together from the initial shock "Don't do something you'll regret."  
"Damn, so that's what I am to you? I try to lie to myself that I am someone for you, someone you can.... Just can..." she tries to find words that get stuck in the throat and mind turns to blank mist again when she realizes that the principal is staring at her, an almost smile rising on lips, not a smile of encouragement, seems almost cruel like a hunter waiting for the hare to fall into the trap and the younger would not give her this taste or reason to smile "I am and always will be just sex for you, right?" the blonde just nods in agreement "Right." 
The teacher just nods while kneeling, which leaves the taller one momentarily confused until she finds her crawling to the middle of her legs, no longer caring about the condition of the dress, makeup drips down cheeks, eyes are distant and face is flushed, not in a positive way, now Y/N looks like shit and it's not a good feeling knowing she's the cause of it. Something presses Larissa's chest making the smile that was rising die instantly. Everything is too fast, the usually gentle fingers of the younger are quick and imprecise, desperate to lift the gray dress up to waist length. The woman lifts her hips helping, soon the lace panties are exposed, framing the path between the long pale legs. The fabric is just set aside as the head disappears under the table and fabric of the dress, the principal's hands grab a handful of the girl's hair pulling her to herself hoping to feel more pleasure, but there is nothing but a shiver and the slight sensation, she simply cannot delight in the skilled tongue circling the clit, nor touches that usually make her melt. A nagging sensation seeps into her chest and stomach churns, even as she closes the eyes trying to erase the pitiful image of the younger, unsuccessfully, the blotchy and weeping face invades her mind, it's intrusive and strangely... painful. Blue eyes open, she stares into the ceiling mirror feeling a little nauseous at the sight and a hand pulls Y/N's hair back, stopping her from continuing, also making her unbalanced falling on the floor and hitting the back of head against the wooden end of the desk. She just groans in pain, confused in a drunken state and not understanding exactly what had just happened.  
"What is it?" she asks taking a her own hand to head where it hurts, a little surprised to find the part slightly moist, but she doesn't care, everything hurts and that's the lesser of it "Isn't that what you wanted?!"  
"It was, actually it is. But not like this. Clean yourself up first, look decent."  
"So I have to look decent to fuck you? Got it." Y/N laughs humorlessly but stands up to do it, hands resting on the woman's thighs to stand without caring that she is being ignored, the blonde looks at some specific spot on the wall avoiding looking down "I'll be right back." she walks with slow steps to the bathroom attached to the office, closing the door behind her.  
"Shit!" Larissa lets out the air she didn't even realize was holding and lowers her gaze, the memory of the girl there still present, a shiver runs through her body and eyes widen as she notices contrasting crimson on the pale knees, the perfect mark of fingers stamping across skin. She barely has time to think about it as the sound of something falling in the bathroom makes her jump out of the chair "Y/N?" without an answer. 
She waits a few seconds still unanswered until walking quickly to the bathroom, opening the door without knocking or asking for again, extremely relieved to find the younger bent over the sink rubbing her face with the running water, black mascara staining the white sink, a little red mixed in. A decorative plant is scattered on the floor, that is the less important thing. The image scares Weems, she freezes in place for an instant and the next is running around the bathroom looking for a towel or something that can wipe the head of her, grabbing a white hand towel from the cabinet. Without a second thought she pushes Y/N lightly, opening space so she can moisten the cloth and gently presses it where the injury was.  
"What are you doing?" the teacher asks confused as she lifts the face, finally seeing her condition clearly in the reflection of the mirror, feeling even more miserable.  
"You hurt your head..."  
"And? Not like it matters." she shrugs, grabbing another towel from the cabinet to dry her face, wiping the last remnants of makeup off "You can drop it and go back to your place, I just need a moment."  
The woman drops the towel and walks away with hands outstretched in surrender, almost rolling the eyes at such stubbornness.  
"I'm going back to the paperwork, you can go to your dorm."  
 "You don't want to anymore?" Y/N asks with head down, not having the courage to look her in the eye.  
"No." she replies simply and walks away, her conscience seemingly clear that she seems to be physically fine despite everything. 
She sits down in the chair again, staring at nothing, and eyes wander to the table in the corner of the office, the bottle of wine reserved for the night practically empty. That explains everything. Y/N is weak to alcohol, one glass is enough for her to be a complete mess for the rest of the night, one bottle can be... terrible. After two minutes without any movement or sign of life from inside the bathroom the worry takes over, what if she fell in the bathroom? No, there would be noise. Or she sat down and lost consciousness? If she is feeling sick... Larissa interrupts her own thoughts trying to tell herself that Y/N is a grown woman and can handle it, while she can barely control the panic with the idea that something serious is happening. It is a bloody cut, the one on the back of the head, one of the most fragile and dangerous places to hit. She is brought out of thoughts when she hears the door being opened, immediately looking for the younger and sees her struggling to walk, barefoot with the shoes in one hand and the other holding the towel. Face now clean, hair pinned up and she looks a little more sober, only looks, because legs cross each step, causing her to almost fall over after losing the support of the door frame. 
"Leave me..." she whispers when feels the presence of the other woman, who has run in stride to support her "I'll handle this on my own."  
"Fuck off, stop being stubborn." the tall takes her in arms ignoring the protests to leave her on the floor and walks quickly to the other door attached to the office, this one leads to a private bedroom "Be quiet." she says harshly when the younger doesn't stop complaining, trying to get out of her arms. That manages to make silence reign.  
Everything goes by like a blur, Y/N being placed on the soft bed, large elegant hands working to push the hair aside so that the severity of the injury can be checked, to great relief discovering it to be something superficial, but still needed some extra care. The small cut is carefully cleaned with cotton, saline and antiseptic, then gently dried, Larissa improvises a bandage with gauze and adhesive tape. The pain makes the girl moan from time to time, no matter how hard she tries to hold herself together it's almost impossible, the drunkenness that washes over her body also takes away any extra resistance. When the bandage is finished she tries to get up, being stopped by the same hands that took care, making her sit against the mattress again. They stare at each other for a few seconds before the older one turns her face away not supporting the eye contact.   
"Now can I leave?" Y/N asks after a few minutes of awkward silence.  
"No. Lie down." the blonde orders and gets up, walking to the closet from where she pulls out extra pillows and blankets, when turning around she almost drops everything on the floor at the sight "Please, put your clothes back on."  
Y/N props herself up on elbows and stares at her confused, sex is the only thing Larissa wants from her, she has made that clear many times and half an hour ago too. It's just sex. That's what sums up the "relationship" and the reason for the deal that makes her days miserable. And in the same night the woman denies it twice, in fact now seems even disgusted to look at her. She rises feeling defeat coursing inside, from flesh to bone, everything hurts, but nothing compares to the pain that forms in her chest every second she spends in this place. Soon her underwear and dress are put back on, the fabric already crumpled, a bit mismatched, very different from how it was before.  
"Here." the principal places two pillows on the left side of the bed, fluffing them and indicating with a hand for the other to lie down, which she does without asking questions despite the extremely confused look, as if it were nothing more than a strange dream "You need to stay awake for at least an hour, to make sure it was nothing more serious, after that you can go. " the younger just nods, carefully laying down, a groan of pain escapes as head reaches the pillow, soon a pill is placed in front of her "Painkiller." 
"Is it dipyrone?"  
 "No, ibuprofen, I know you are allergic to dipyrone."  
"Thank you."  
"Okay." Larissa shrugs and walks to the other side of the bed, sitting up "You know we can't continue after today, right?!"  
"Why?" her voice comes out broken, a lump forming in the throat at the mere thought of not being with the woman anymore, even if only for sex.  
"We broke the rules, you talked about feelings, I took care of you and now I'm letting you spend the night, none of that is part of the deal." they don't look each other in the eye for different reasons, the blonde sighs before continuing "That breaks the idea of friends with benefits."  
"To be friends with benefits we should be friends in the first place, but I don't think we ever were. You despise me." Y/N whispers bitterly and turns away, she would not give the other the pleasure of seeing her cry.  
"You're right."  
Time passes torturously slowly, Y/N tries not to cry again, which becomes impossible with the indifference and tension that builds more and more every second, then concentrates on not letting it become obvious, holding back sobs and shaking body. Everything hurts, face, chest, hands gripping hard on the pillow and an annoying headache, despite having taken ibuprofen earlier. For an hour and a half Larissa calls her sporadically to check if she is awake or not, occasionally asking if she feels nauseous or anything else, soon discovering that these are symptoms of post-drinking so she stops asking little by little until is completely quiet. That's when the teacher finally falls asleep, the blonde and usually kind (to others) principal in her mind, still trying not to believe it's over. Trying to fool herself with the idea, maybe the slightest possibility, that it's a nightmare where everything they had just slipped through her fingers because of a bottle of wine. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A week later Y/N finds herself running through the halls of Nevermore, dressed impeccably in a casual women's suit set in her favorite color, high heels tapping against the floor, hair brushed presentably, makeup light and she was glad to finally have the bandage off, it would surely spoil the perfect look to finally meet her students' parents. It has been six months of preparation for this moment, of course there are parents who were not very receptive to the idea of their children being taught by a simple normie who was not even raised in Jericho, just as there were those who supported her hiring and seem equally excited to meet her. Parents' Weekend is the opportunity to do that. She stops in front of the door and sighs, smoothing the fabric of the suit so that it is totally flawless, then smoothed the thin tank top under the blazer, for some reason it seems to be looser against the chest and dangerously close to the edge of the neckline, a few necklaces adorning majestically. The teacher knows she should be feeling fabulous with this look and the greetings she has rehearsed for hours memorized, but nothing takes her away from the miserable state she has been in for a week since she woke up alone in Weems' bedroom, with only a note on the bedside recommending that she go to the doctor and the best way out, without the danger of being seen, would be through the side door. Since then she has been trying to pull herself together, which means trying to avoid the woman as much as possible until it stops hurting.  
"You can do it, Y/N. You can take anything for 10 seconds, so just start over and everything will work out." she whispers to herself, closing the eyes in concentration "Allons-y!"  
And it all worked out, better than she could have imagined, the principal was nowhere to be seen, at least not in her field of vision. The first parents to show any interest were a vampire's parents, of the youngest, who complimented her highly on how she helped him adjust away from home, the three greeted each other happily before a gentle conversation. Which caught the attention of another vampire family, these were quieter, but equally kind. After an hour of the event she couldn't even count on fingers how many parents she managed to talk to and captivate, all making clear that despite initial reservations they had a good surprise and results with her hiring. This cheered the younger up a bit, at least something seems to be working out in her life, it's that saying, lucky in gambling and unlucky in love. 
"So you are the beautiful young lady my son talks so much about?" a voice comes up behind her after saying goodbye to Ajax's parents, when she turns around finds a tall man with striking features, sculpted body highlighted by the cut of his suit and a pair of mesmerizing chocolate eyes "Lucien Corbyn..." 
"Elijah's father?!" the parental connection between them is obvious, the boy being a souped up image of him "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Corbyn! Your son is a great student and very kind." she extends a hand expecting the man to shake, being surprised by the touch of his rough hand leading hers to his lips, where he leaves a lingering kiss, staring her in the eyes the whole time.  
"The pleasure is all mine." he whispers and smiles lowering his hand, still holding hers "Of course Eli is, he's my son and was raised by me...only me. All credit to his father." and blinks, trying to hint that he is a solo and consequently single father  
"I'm not surprised, you two are so much alike. Strong genes." Y/N comments nonchalantly, not realizing how this affects the instinct of the werewolf, who raises an eyebrow feeling audacious and also lucky to have finally found the perfect woman after the former wife's leaving.  
She may not have noticed, but the tall woman across the courtyard did and felt extremely uncomfortable at the sight, Larissa was present at the event the entire time, the first 40 minutes spent solving small problems and talking to the parents who donate money to the academy funds. Trying to be as invisible as possible, at the same time her eyes were always on her, the girl who torments days and takes away sleep at night with the simple fact of existing. Sometimes she got lost in the topic of some parent because her focus was too much on the teacher interacting with the families and giving attention to each one of them, after she pulled herself together, she excused and tried to dissipate it from mind, uselessly, since in the next second she was already doing the same thing. And she mentally thanked for repeating the behavior. Corbyn is a wealthy werewolf, leader of the wolf pack, they went to university together, in fact the man was a great conqueror until he married and had the son, but werewolves like big families, have lots of children to make the pack bigger, and he has made it clear in the last two years that he is in search of another mate to give him that.  
She greets the mother of some siren she can't even remember the name of, and walks slowly over to where the pair are talking, watching the interaction from a distance. Lucien still holds her hand, his other hand caressing her elbow, but Y/N barely notices because she is too excited talking about his son, one of the favorite children. His eyes are no longer on her face, the blonde can see the lust stamped on the werewolf's face as he stares at a lower point, the teacher's breasts. The two mounds are partially exposed by the neckline of the tank top she wears under her blazer, showing flushed skin and a small part of her lace bra, shit, even she can't look away and has been there, she knows every detail by heart, the softness to the touch, the nipples and how sensitive they can be tearing out sinful moans. Everything about her is sinful and Larissa was once the greatest sinner. As approaches she unconsciously takes off the gray coat, which is landing on Y/N's shoulders in seconds, she is startled by the touch and almost cannot believe it when she hears the familiar voice beside her, nor that the soft delicate gloved hands she misses so much are around shoulders holding her tightly, if it were someone else she might say it feels like a possessive touch.  
"I believe Elijah is expecting his father to spend time with him and not with the teacher." she says with venom in voice, a huge fake smile on the lips, staring at his hand hoping the man gets the hint.  
"You are right, Principal Weems. I am here for my little wolf." Corbyn agrees with an even more fake smile as he understands the message, instead of letting her go he squeezes the hand even tighter and brings it to his lips again "I hope to see you soon, beautiful young lady. The pack can't wait to host a dinner on your behalf." he winks and finally lets her go, looking directly at the blonde "See you later, Principal!" and doesn't get a response.  
Y/N keeps a neutral expression until Lucien disappears from sight soon after finding his son in the crowd and as soon as she doesn't see him uses the arms to try to get rid of the coat, but the long arms stop her and Larissa turn around so that they are face to face, without saying anything she adjusts the piece against the girl's body, covering her breasts and then fastens the buttons quickly. They stare at each other in the process, feeling the strangeness of the moment hit the pit of their stomachs, one feeling nauseous and the other boiling with anger inside, sunk in a feeling similar to jealousy, even if she denies it to herself.  
"It's cold." she says shrugging and adjusts the collar of the coat, not failing to notice how big this looks on Y/N, like a big fancy dress, it's almost.. cute to look at.  
"I have coats, you can have yours back." her voice comes out in a whisper and she tries to take off the coat again, but is stopped by the taller one, arms wrapping around her again so she doesn't do that "Principal Weems..."  
"Let's go inside."  
Before she can refuse she feels herself being held by the hand and dragged across the courtyard, barely able to keep up with the woman's steps, partly because of the height difference and also the heavy piece of clothing larger than her, which drags along the ground, none of them caring. On the way some parents observe the scene, from curious to pitying looks, thinking that maybe the teacher was in trouble for some reason, none of them had seen this angry expression on the principal's face before. She just lowers the gaze as just lets be led, knowing that there is no point in arguing, making a scene in front of parents is the last thing she wants.  
"What the hell were you thinking flirting with a student's father?" Larissa asks loudly, holding herself back from screaming, once they enter her office.  
"I wasn't..."  
"Yes, you were. Corbyn is the leader of a wolf pack, an alpha looking for a wife and someone to have his little wolves." she interrupts the younger angrily dumping the facts on the table.  
"And?" the answer is simple and mocking, increasing the tension in the room. The blue eyes fill with more anger.  
"You don't really know the werewolves, the alphas...they are...you are more than that. More than a trophy to exhibit, than a... breeding slut." the words coming out of her mouth surprises them both, vulgar language compared to her exquisite vocabulary.  
"What if marriage and children is something I want? At least Lucien would treat me well, not even hide me." Y/N teases and shrugs, even though she is completely disgusted inside at the idea of that man touching her in this way, besides, she really doesn't know much about werewolves and the classes of the species "And maybe I would be loved."  
In less than a second she finds herself practically lying on the armchair with the woman's body on top of hers, kneeling on the floor not caring about the expensive dress, faces inches apart, warm breath against lips and their eyes meet once again, there is fragility in both, many buried feelings suddenly showing. One hand of Larissa's holds the smaller wrist to the top of the armchair, above head, and the other lands below thigh, lifting the leg for the younger to wrap around her waist, so she does instinctively. 
"I can give you all of this, right now if you want me to." the older whispers without leaving her eyes, for the first time since they met she showed some vulnerability and to their surprise tears emerged, falling down her face faster than it came "Y/N, I can and want to give you all of this, whatever you wish."  
"Then why?" she is confused and shocked, for the past few months the thing she wished most is that someday hopefully her feelings would be reciprocated, receiving only coldness and indifference, accepting the crumbs of the deal they had, it was enough until no more, "Larissa, you despised me for months, as if I was nothing, invisible, even professionally, doubting my abilities just for being a normie. You made me feel...worthless, unworthy of love."  
"And I'm miserable for doing that to you, it was never my intention, but when I realized I was already putting up barriers and more barriers to keep you away, yet I couldn't. My romantic past is terrible, I've been hurt a lot by people whom I gave myself to and trusted blindly. For a blind person, as I was, pushing you away and hurting you seemed better than letting myself be hurt once again. I know, that's no excuse for all the shit I put you through. But I was broken emotionally when I met you, so that's why..." the principal stops talking when she feels Y/N's free hand gently wipe away her tears, thumb resting on the now flushed cheeks "I'm not trying to justify it, but I really was afraid to let you in, then when you were gone I realized that being afraid of losing you is bigger, also hurts more. That night I cried hiding in the office after you slept and uselessly tried to convince myself that it was the best thing for both of us, even if it was burning me up inside. And now that I saw that disgusting man touching you hurt like hell, I realized that I can't stand the idea of someone else being in your life like that."  
"I..." 
"Please forgive me, you were never worthless, I never despised you, never thought you were any of that, fuck, I don't even care that you are normie and I hired you precisely because you are fucking bright, a great teacher and role model for our students. I just can't say I'm sorry for being an asshole and for all the cruel words I've said, if you want I'll wash my mouth out with soap. Y/N, listen very attentively to my words now." Larissa leaves the wrist and long fingers run across the girl's face, admiring every detail, feeling her chest heavy as she remembers that damn night when she was a complete idiot, hurt her in so many ways and made her cry, when she thought lost her forever "You are worthy of all the love in the world, all the happiness, all the affection and you deserve only good things, I made a lot of mistakes, I was the worst person. But..." she sighs and tries to wipe the new wave of tears, anxiety taking over mind and heart "Can you give me a chance? To reward you and show you how much I appreciate you, if you want the world I'll try to give you just to show how deeply I love you."  
"You what?" both are shocked at the sudden declaration.  
"I..." red painted lips quiver and her eyes become clearer, like crystal water, Y/N sees the pure truth about her feelings behind them "I love you." she finally says, word for word, loud and clear.  
"I love you too." the younger whispers, those words meaning more than that, it's forgiveness. They draw closer and slowly bring their lips together.   
It's gentle and soft, as if this is the first time and they are discovering each other, very different from the real first time their lips touched months before, which led them to start everything. Neither can believe that this is really happening, or how amazing they feel with a simple kiss after having done so much more than that before. Lips move in sync, hearts racing and they engage in a tight hug, the blonde's arms taking the smaller body to herself, holding her lovingly by the waist and the back of neck. What makes Y/N groan in pain between the kiss, they separate momentarily only for Larissa to check if she is okay, that injury haunted her for a whole week, only reassured after threatening the doctor to tell about the health condition of her beloved. She soon discovers that the teacher is fine, as she is pulled in by Y/N to continue kissing, this time more intense, tongues meet immediately, feeling and exploring each other's mouths with affection and desire, so much desire that makes the skin burn, feverish with love. It's a kiss that is full of all the feelings hidden for months, of the pain they have gone through in different ways, but about the same thing, the desire to be together. 
"What are we now?" Y/N asks as soon as their lips part and they are looking at each other again, this time instead of tears there are genuine and almost shy smiles "And what are we doing?"  
"Well, I was planning to take you on a date and propose formally..."  
 "Really, Weems? I thought your silly hand was driving us to another thing..." she points to the long fingers under the coat, between the fabric of her tank top and the waistband of the pants.  
"I'm sorry." she is about to take the hand away from there, but is stopped and feels the soft lips against hers again in a quick kiss.  
"It's okay..." the buttons are slowly unbuttoned, the tank top showing and when Larissa moves closer to kiss her the fabric is accidentally pulled, exposing even more breasts along with the lace bra that almost drove the principal crazy earlier.  
"If I didn't know you I'd say it was all planned." the two laugh and the taller one nods in denial, then pulls on the coat wrapping herself in it, bodies pretty much attached inside "Please, never let Lucien come near you like that again. Just seeing him touching and looking at you like that made me boil inside, I wanted to kill him."  
"He wouldn't have come close if I already belonged to someone."  
"Fair enough. And that brings us to the previous question, are we more than girlfriends?" the blonde asks a little fearfully afraid she's jumping the gun, they've been sleeping together for about six months now, but under her stupid terms, fruits of damn insecurity "Or...?"  
"We are whatever we want to be." she thinks of an objective answer, but not even she, who has always wanted this relationship, knows how to define what they have.  
"Then you will be mine, in every way. Body, soul, and mind." they intertwine fingers and Larissa has to fight back new tears when the other nods in agreement, the fear of speaking this fading, her heart speeds up even more "We have a lot to fix, I have a lot to make up for, but I want to be better for you, to be worthy to call you girlfriend and one day wife."  
"You are already worthy, you just didn't know it." Y/N whispers with emotion in voice, fighting back her own tears as she faces the woman she loves in the same state, their heads touch and both close eyes just enjoying the moment, feeling the calm after the storm "It's okay now."  
"It's okay now." she agrees opening a smile and they gap a little, staring at each other "Damn, I can't believe I finally had the courage to say I love you." 
"Neither do I, it's like you're a different Larissa, a better Rissa, who talks, gives affection, knows how to express yourself." the younger's hands run down the principal's neck and rest on the soft face, caressing cheek, then the temple, eyebrows, nose, chin and finally the fleshy lips that quiver at the gentle touch "And love me."  
Their lips come together again in a delicate and emotional kiss, still a new feeling to be able to touch and be like this after all they have been through. What they are doing is no longer relieving stress or satisfy horniness trying to control all the built up sexual tension, there are no sloppy kisses, rushed hands, cold touches and even less the usual neglect. It's exactly the opposite of that, affection is conveyed with every touch and the kisses seem simply addictive, like they could live this moment forever and if at some point they parted it would fade away, just like their dreams before.  
"I knew I couldn't kiss you this way before or I would fall to my knees in love..." Larissa murmurs between the kiss and points to how she stands in front of the armchair, on knees between her legs, hands holding her "And I was right."  
"You're such an idiot, Rissa." they smile and the blonde pulls her around the waist, rubbing hips against Y/N's intimacy, both moan at the friction "My Rissa..."  
"Only yours. And you only mine."  
"I have never been so happy to break rules in my life."  
"And I thank you for it."  
They feel deep happiness and peace, nothing matters around, Parents' Weekend, not even the rowdy students, this is their moment. As soon as their lips touch again calmness hangs over heads, there is no more fear, pain or anything like that, just the feeling of being realized and complete after letting love speak louder.  
"I love you, Y/N..." 
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witchcraft-in-wonderland · 2 years ago
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Minecraft Diaries: The Descended (Pt.3)
Cori wasn't quite sure how long she and Briak had gone before they reached a clearing. They took a moment to look around as Briak transformed back into his human form.
The clearing was full of buildings, mostly made of wood, it resembled a sort of tudor-style village. The only difference was in one house- if you could perhaps call it such. It was more castle-based in theme. Cori wondered perhaps if that was why Briak had called himself a prince.
"Well- Welcome to the Tribe of the New Moon- it's- been a while since we've had visitors- the others might not take well to you immeadietly- but your status as a descendant of Lady Irene might help-" Briak said, dusting bits of leaves from his hair.
"Of course. . ." Cori muttered. This whole Irene thing was getting old quickly. It was like high school all over again, you were only important if your family was, you were only treated well if you were someone worth knowing, if you could get people things.
"Let's. . . Just go. . ." Briak said, giving them a sorry look, as if he knew what was going through their mind.
The two walked into the village, only to be halted by two of the guards.
"State your business!. What are you doing with Prince Briak!." Said one, both were in wolf form, one black with flecks of grey on its muzzle, the other fully light brown.
"I asked them to accompany me- to see mother- their name is Cori Irenia-" Briak said, holding up his hands as if in a surrendering gesture.
"Irenia. . ." Both guards spoke at the same time, before shifting out of their wolf forms. Cori again flinched at the sounds, silently hoping they'd never have to transform like that.
"You may pass, but know that your relation to the Lady Irene only grants you mild immunity." Said one, the two parted away from the path to allow them in.
"I- I understand-" Cori said with a nod, following Briak into the village.
"Mother! I've brought someone to see you! One of the descendants!" Briak said as they reached the top of a tall tower at the side of the castle. Cori's legs burned, they weren't exactly used to cardio.
"Of whom?" The woman's voice was commanding, large, like she expected all attention in the room to remain focussed and hanging on her every word.
The woman herself matched her voice, dark eyes combined with a piercing glare, regal and imposing, just like the queens in fairytale.
"Lady Irene-" Sabrione's eyes widened, her attention focusing in on Cori themself.
"You? Related to Lady Irene? How so." She said, Cori shifted their feet, now feeling slightly awkward.
"I'm- I'm her grandchild- by- a couple or so greats-" Cori said softly.
"You are the first our tribe has met in a long while- come with me." Sabrione said, finally leaving her place from behind the desk she'd been sitting at to approach the two.
"Mother? Should I-"
"I'd like to talk to our guest alone, my child, I believe your friends would like to see that you are safe," Sabrione stated, ushering Cori out of the room.
"I should thank you, child, for saving my son, he can be quite the trouble-maker," Sabrione had guided them to a long hallway, full of golden statues of other werewolves. They didn't recognize many, but some felt familiar. Leona. . . Logan. . . Lowell- werewolves- really seemed to enjoy L-names.
"Lowell was our ancestor, many years ago he was rescued by the Lady Irene's first incarnation, Lady Aphmau." Sabrione said, as if taking note of Cori's curious eyes.
"She seems to have quite a legacy. . ." Cori said, sounding slightly dejected.
"A legacy that you are not mandated to follow, child, you would do well to remember that." Said the queen.
"It certainly doesn't feel that way- especially not with that- that shadow- thing. . . I don't know if it'll come back but- I don't want to see it again- I- I can't risk putting my friends back at the village in danger like that- not after what it did to my mother. . ." Cori said- their stomach twisting in a knot after the realization that they had left their friends for- they didn't know how long- finally setting in.
"We would be willing to send in guards, Phoenix Drop has been our ally for generations, it will be nice to see it standing tall once more- but I believe that is not all I have to offer you." Sabrione said with a knowing smile.
"Thank you- for your kindness but- what do you mean?" Cori said quizzically.
"Our tribe has many historians, Briak is one such historian- one with a longing to explore- hence his consistent pull toward the dangers in the woods,"
"With all due respect your majesty I- I can't stay very long- I'd prefer to learn information somewhere I know my friends and myself are both safe-" Cori said, shrinking in on themself.
"Oh I'm not asking you to stay, I'm asking you to take Briak with you." Sabrione stated authoritatively.
"Are- are you sure- your majesty?" Cori asked again.
"Yes- I'll have him pack his things when we return- but before you go there is one more thing I must show to you- you are aware of the Nether Realm- yes?" Sabrione said, turning her attention to Cori again.
"I've- heard stories from my mother about it-" Cori replied.
"I see- well- it is our tribe who guards the only remaining portal- but it hasn't been active for many years- until a few days ago- likely when you arrived- if it's not trouble, I would like you to accompany me to examine it."
"Are you-"
"Yes, child, I am entirely sure- now follow me." Cori merely nodded, following behind the queen.
Soon they came upon the Nether Portal, a sun and a moon with stars on either side. The center was glowing bright purple.
"I- can't sense anything- if that's what you wanted- I'm sorry. . ." Cori said, looking back at the queen.
"I didn't expect you to but- thank you for trying, child, now, let us go. . ." But as the two turned, a low chuckle sounded from behind them.
"Well of course you don't sense anything, how do you sense what isn't there?" It was the figure again.
"Y-you! I don't know who you are or what you have against me but I am not my grandmother! If you can hold a grudge for that many generations you have a problem dude!." Cori had pulled out their bow and arrow without even realizing it, almost as if it were instinctual.
"You will remember, one day, one of my own will come for you, then you will know what it means to align with the enemies of Shad." In a rather anticlimactic end compared to their first meeting, the figure vanished without claiming any victims. Though Cori wasn't sure whether to consider this a good or bad thing.
"Shad the Destroyer. . . Perhaps you are in more danger than you perceive, child. . . We must gather forces quickly. . ." The queen's eyes were wide with a terror that seemed most unlike her.
"I've only ever heard of him in stories- mother told me of the Divine Warriors- in passing at least- she never went in depth- never mentioned Irene herself- I suppose now I see why. . ." Cori said softly.
"He'll send a descendant of his own out to find you, I'm sure of it,"
"Then I suppose I'll have to be ready for that. . . If he wants to kill me so badly- I'll be ready for him- I'm to stubborn to go without a fight."
-------------------------
Taglsit:
@thelostscholarofmcd @cryptid-in-your-closet
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blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years ago
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Chapter 3: and I Don’t Want To Go Home Right Now
And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner or later, it's over
I just don't wanna miss you tonight
Iris by Goo Goo Dolls (1998)
“You don’t have to do this,” Sirius says, tying up his hair for the fifth time in as many minutes.
“I know. But I want to,” he says firmly.
He coughs. Wheezes. Coughs again. Sirius’ jaw twitches.
“You don’t- “
“I’m not changing my mind.”
Sirius looks furious; but says nothing. The courtroom is packed, the entire Wizengamot is there. Sirius sits opposite the Ministry Legal Counsel, a devious little bigoted wanker called Grenville Nott. He can’t stop bouncing his right leg up and down. Nerves. Remus takes the stand.
“State your name for the hearing records.”
“Remus Lupin Black.”
“State what you are.”
“Pardon?”
“What is your status?”
Remus looks at Sirius in confusion. Sirius is livid, stands up. He understands.
“Objection!” Sirius spits out.
“I’m a man who once a month turns into a werewolf,” Remus says calmly.
“Why should we listen to what a beast like you has- “
“Objection!” Sirius is on his feet again, grey eyes dangerous, so close to pulling out his wand and hexing the bastard.
“Sit down,” Remus mouths in his direction, sending him an eye roll, before turning back to Nott. “I’m here because the Ministry has asked for testimonies from werewolves about how the condition has affected us, the prejudice we have faced, our feedback on what we would recommend, as a- “
“We asked for no such thing,” Nott sniffs indignantly. “Mr Black persuaded the Wiz- “
“Mr Lupin- Black.”
Nott gawks; he’d obviously forgotten.
“We’re married,” Remus says, unable to hide a smile and the pink hue on his white cheeks. His gaze drops to the floor momentarily and then he glances at Sirius who can’t stop himself from smiling back, besotted fool. Sirius bites his lower lip, pretends to tidy his papers, clears his throat. But he’s still smiling. The packed courtroom smiles back.
Keep reading…
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princess-of-riviaa · 3 years ago
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Claiming
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Erin Quincy (1st person POV)
Summary: You experience your first heat as a brand new shifter. Walter, being the good alpha he is, helps out his struggling omega.
Warning(s): depictions of animal attack, age gap (Erin is 25, Walter is 38), alcohol use, a bit of angsty Walter, dirty talk, possessiveness
Author’s note: This is my first piece of work I made for the ABO Universe. I hope you guys like it!
Word count: 3,931
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Two weeks ago, I’d been on a camping trip with my two step-brothers, Scott and Chris, when my life had forever changed. One second, the hiking trail had been clear and safe; the next, some kind of animal was jumping out of the brush and fighting my breakfast sausage out of my hands. I later learned that the animal had been a wolf, but that realization only came when I had my first Shift three days later.
Though the night had escaped my memories, when I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion to an unfamiliar group of faces the next day, they filled me in on the details. The man in front—tall, with deep brown curls that were almost as distracting as his thick, muscular shape—had told me that I had Shifted the night before and ended up on their doorstep. And yes, Shifters—not werewolves, as most fantasy books called them—were real, Walter informed me during my surprised silence.
Walter Marshall—that was the stunning stranger’s name. He was an Alpha of one of the two packs that lived in this mansion, and I was more than welcome to join them. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had become of myself—and I knew better than to hope that my family would understand—so I accepted the generous offer.
I had been with the pack for three weeks now. Winnie Marshall, Walter’s twin sister, was the Alpha for the mansion’s other pack. Walter had found me first—he had actually been the one to stop me from giving into my animalistic instincts on the night he found me, and had been the one to bring me in from the pouring rain—and technically had claim to me. But, because I hadn’t officially been claimed by him, Winnie argued that she had as much right to me as her brother did. So she took me under her wing. She’d explained everything to me, been there in my moments of panic and embarrassment to assure me that everyone goes through this, and it’s not going to last forever.
The only other two people in the house that were my age were two betas. One of them, a young man named Mike (though everyone called him Mikey), was the center of attention at the mansion, though he surprisingly had his eyes set on the quiet girl who loved books. Her name—I met her last, simply because she’d locked herself in the library for a week-long reading challenge—was Amber Connelly. As the only other beta under the age of thirty, she had an… interesting relationship with Mikey. And by that I mean they were both head over heels for each other, though they only ever bickered, and neither of them seemed aware of the others’ feelings. But they never acted on their feelings, and no one ever expected them to, simply because Mikey was Walter’s Beta, and Amber was Winnie’s, and packs didn’t mix, especially if their was a chance of a Claiming.
Claiming—that was the part of all of this that had intrigued me the most. It started with a bite. One person had to bite their partner directly over the heart, hard enough to leave a scar that would be there forever. In another sense, one wolf had to mark their partner as their territory. It was possessive in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t deny that deep down inside of me, I wanted to share that intimate, lifelong promise with Walter.
It was insane for a number of reasons. Not only had I met the Alpha just a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t even officially in his pack, and a Claiming with an Alpha would make me second-in-command. There were a few steps I would be skipping if that happened. Not to mention that Walter Marshall was the only unclaimed Alpha over the age of thirty-five in the entire city, and there was a reason for that. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with his past. Our age was another factor. He was almost 40, while I had just turned 25.
And yet, here I was, wanting his mark anyways. He was quiet and reserved enough to make him mysterious, and that only pulled me in more. In the first week I was there, I found any way I could to talk to him, mainly to thank him for giving me a safe place for this new season of life. But he had disappeared with Andy and Charles Barber—two Beta brothers—for an entire week. Winnie had only said that they were taking care of business on the other side of the city, but when the three men came back, there was a darkness to all of them that told me whatever they had been doing… It hadn’t been fun.
Walter was harder to reach in the days that followed. When I would knock on his office door and ask him if he was able to train me today—something both he and Winnie insisted on their packs doing in their daily routine—he would snap and order me to leave, the sound of his growl following me out the door. He apologized for his behavior three days later, and bought takeout from my favorite restaurant to make it up to me, but I still couldn’t forget that side of him. The side of him that turned his soft blue eyes completely black. The part of him that was all animal, only selfishness and cold edges.
And yet, even after all of that, I still wanted him. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d woken up panting in the middle of the night, rising out of a dream of those blue eyes looking down at me as he fucked my throat, making me gag and cry around his cock. The sound of my own moans had forced me awake before dawn this morning. The memory of Walter’s intense gaze holding my reflection’s as he fucked me in the bathroom had followed me all day.
I was still wound up as I made my way to the game room. The smell of alcohol was strong throughout the house. The packs were celebrating Walter and Winnie’s thirty-eighth birthday tonight, and everyone, it seemed, was intent on getting blackout drunk. There were three kegs in the living room. It took Shifters a lot longer to get drunk, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the kegs were already halfway empty by the time I filled a cup for myself.
But I was surprised to find Walter perched on the roof when I made my way up to my regular hiding spot. He didn’t look over at me when I climbed onto the roof, but he didn’t seem startled when I took a seat beside him, and I knew his Shifter senses had probably heard me before I’d even climbed up the stairs that led up here.
“I see you stole my hiding spot,” I remarked as I took a sip of my beer.
“This way my hiding spot first, actually.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but the amusement is only a cover. I note the darker emotion hiding beneath, and I recognize it instantly. It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling since my first Shift.
Loneliness.
“So technically you stole it from me,” Walter continued, giving me a ghost of a smile.
Though the air was light between us for once, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why are you hiding on your birthday?”
He sighed and looked out at the valley below us. The city lights reflected in his eyes, making the blue in them sparkle. He chugged back the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m thirty-eight tonight.”
“So I’ve heard.” The light tone was clearly forced, but I continued anyways. “Congratulations.”
His long fingers parted thick curls before he clutched the roots of his hair and squeezed, looking frustrated and… defeated. “I’m thirty-eight—and I still don’t have a goddamn mate.”
Oh.
I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was more than ready to say, Take me. Claim me. I’ll be your mate. But I knew that was overstepping. I didn’t know how to comfort him.
“Walter—” I began.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this. I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.”
We both knew that was a lie. He was too collected to be drunk. Everything—save for his brutal honesty—screamed completely sober.
“I just…” He went on, then stopped himself.
I put a hand on his arm and had to physically force myself not to lean into the warmth of his body heat. When his blue eyes met mine, I nearly lost control. God, I wanted him. I wanted to ran my hands through his hair; wanted to know the way his moans sounded as he filled me up; wanted to feel his mouth on me—
I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You can tell me.”
He hesitated.
“You’ve been there for me since I got here,” I pointed out. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”
His eyes scanned my face, and I got the feeling that he could see into my soul. It unnerved me as much as it made me want to bear myself to him. He finally said, “You don’t owe me anything, Erin. I was being a good Alpha.”
“You let a stranger into your home,” I argued. “That qualifies as more than simply being a good Alpha. There’s other packs in the city, yet you were the only one who opened your door to me. And you’ve let me stay here when you could have just as easily sent me away. You’re not just a good Alpha, Walter, you’re…” I almost said, you’re everything, but I caught myself.
But the way he looked at me… I had a feeling that he heard what I didn’t say.
“And maybe you think I don’t owe you,” I went on, “but I want to be there for you. I want to give you whatever you need.”
His eyes left my face to stare at the hand I placed on his arm. He reached for it, and at first I thought he was going to push me away, but he simply held my hand between his own. He opened my fingers and stared at my palm as if he was going to tell me my future. A thick, calloused finger traced across the lines on my palm. The touch was simple and gentle, but it made me shiver nonetheless.
“I’m the only Alpha in the city without a mate,” he finally admitted. “That fact has never bothered me before. I always liked being on my old. I thought I was better that way. It was enough always having to keep an eye on Winnie; I never had a want for someone else to look out for.”
“But now…?” I guessed there was a “but” in that sentence.
His focus was locked on his fingers as he traced the outline of my hand. Something about the way his rough skin felt against mine… It made heat stir in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t realize I had started to lean into him until there was just a few inches of space left between us.
“But now,” he finally said, and sighed. “Now I find myself wanting something I don’t know if I can have.”
“A mate?” Why couldn’t he have that?
“You.” He finally met my gaze, just as the words clicked in my mind.
Heat made my cheeks burn bright red as I repeated his words. “M-me? What do you mean?”
“I mean I want you.” His gaze was unapologetic, yet the twist of his mouth… I could tell he was fighting some internal battle. “When I first saw you in that back alley, hiding under that shed from the rain…”
I was silent as he spoke, simply because I’d never heard all the details of what had happened that night, and Walter was the only one with that memory.
“I had Shifted too,” he admitted. “The pack Shifts together on full moons. The Omegas and some of the Betas are less overwhelmed by it if we’re all together. But something had drawn me away from the pack, like some string had pulled me out onto the streets…”
Only once he said something did I realize that I did remember a part of that night. It wasn’t a memory of what had happened, but rather… a feeling I had gotten. Like someone had been calling my name and I had gone in search of them.
“I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Walter continued. “And when I found you, shaking from fear and the cold… I knew I had to do something. The urge to protect you was overbearing. So I brought you home. I told myself it just from the intensity of the Shift that I felt like that, but when you Shifted back the next morning… I knew I couldn’t just let you walk away. So I told you to stay, and I knew that if you had said no, I would have done anything to change your mind.”
“Walter…” My voice was a quiet whisper as my thoughts began to race. “Do you think… That feeling… I felt it too. Is that what…”
“What having a mate feels like?” he guessed.
All I could do was nod. Somehow I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.
“Maybe.” When his gaze met mine, I realized he looked as lost as I felt. “I couldn’t say one way or another; I’ve never had a mate. But if it is…” He finally dropped my hand, only to cup my face and pull me towards him. “Listen to me, Erin. Even if…” He paused, as if he was struggling to say it out loud, too. “Even if we’re mates, that doesn’t mean you have to choose me. You can walk away. Hell, you can even…” He practically flinched at these words, as if saying them was a physical blow—“You can even choose someone else. Another man. I’m not going to force you into anything.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I think I want another drink.”
Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. He rose to his feet, insisting that he get it for me. I watched him walk away. He took four steps—and froze. His entire back went rigid, too stiff for a human. His Shifter instincts had picked up on something.
I froze, wondering what was happening, what he had picked up on.
But he merely turned to face me again. Slowly. “Erin.”
I tried to sense his source of distress, but I couldn’t pick up on anything. The only thing I picked up on was how that look in his eyes sent heat straight to my core. “What is it, Walter?” I was on my feet and closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.
“Don’t move!” he practically yelled.
I paused, almost jumping at his volume.
His eyes were wild, frantic, looking like an animal caught in a trap.
“What’s wrong?” I asked again, resisting the urge to reach out to him.
“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Every muscle in his body was taut as he asked the question.
I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He simply said, “You’re going through heat.”
Oh.
Winnie had explained that to me on one of my first days here. She’d said it happens to every female Shifter. Her hormones—particularly the horny ones—exploded, and every male Shifter around her could sense it. Apparently, it drove the males as crazy as the females, though it was dangerous to be an Omega—specifically an unclaimedOmega—around any Alphas while in heat.
That’s why Walter wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing: he was trying not to pounce on me and take what he wanted. What we both needed.
All those dreams about him… They finally made sense. I was preparing for my first heat.
Only once he brought it to my attention did I realize just how hot I was. My heart was hammering in my chest, flames boiling beneath my skin, and—god, when had I gotten so wet?
“Walter…” My voice was a high-pitched whine.
“You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. The look in his eyes matched the relentless ferocity rising in my core.
God, I needed him. “Please…”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Erin. We’re both unclaimed. I won’t be able to control myself—”
I took a step towards him—and practically cried out. The burning in my core—between my legs—it was unbearable. I needed to ease the ache inside of me. My hand moved of its own accord towards my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself over my jeans.
Walter’s eyes were locked on my hand. “Erin… you’re killing me.”
“Please, Walter,” I begged, my body no longer under my control. “I need you. I can’t breathe—”
That was when he kissed me. He wasn’t the first person I had kissed, but he felt like the first person who mattered. Our mouths molded together and I moved against him in a way that said, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.
“God, I can smell you,” he breathed into my neck, his low voice nothing more than a moan. “You’re already wet for me, baby.”
All I could do was moan as he pressed me against his erection. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my clavicle, and stopped over my heart.
“I want you,” I cried out as I ran my hands through his hair. “Mark me, Walter. Please.”
He brought his mouth to my chest, but he didn’t bite me like I expected him to. Instead, he brushed a soft kiss against my skin. I whined as he pulled away and moved me from his lap.
“Did I do something wrong?” I panicked, feeling like an idiot—
“No,” he assured me. “You’re… god, you’re perfect. But I’m not about to fuck you on the roof. I doubt you’ll want the entire neighborhood to hear you moaning for me.”
My face flushed instantly, but I didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and pulled me inside, not stopping until we were in his room. An Alpha’s room was a place very few people ever saw. It was more intimate than a regular bedroom; it was stepping into his territory, walking onto his turf, and I knew that something had permanently changed between us as I crossed the threshold into the room.
The room was rather simple. A king-sized bed was pressed against the left wall. The crimson sheets were the only color in the room. The right side of the wall had a desk covered in files and papers. Newspaper clippings hung above it, stamped into the wall with thumb tacks. I didn’t have a moment to read what all the papers were about before Walter distracted me.
He arms wrapped around me as he lifted me up in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I clung to his shoulders, but he held me easily, as if I weighed no more than a few pounds. The show of pure strength did nothing to help the wet mess between my legs.
Walter walked us to the bed and lied me down on my back. He hovered over me but didn’t move to touch me. The longing and lust in his eyes was so vibrant, so undeniable, that I writher beneath him.
But his tone was calm as he said, “I need to ask you again. Is this what you want, Erin?”
“So much,” I breathed before pulling him against me.
His thigh moved between my legs, and he deepened the kiss as his leg pressed tightly against my core, applying pressure where I needed it most. Though our hands ran along each other’s bodies in a hungry frenzy, he kissed me differently than he had on the roof. It wasn’t rushed or desperate this time, but rather deep and slow and just as sensual. My toes curled.
I cried out as his mouth moved to my ear. He nipped at my earlobe—an action that sent shivers through my body—before whispering, “What is it, baby girl? What do you want? My fingers?”
I writhed against him.
“My mouth?”
Oh, fuck.
“Both?”
A wanton moan escaped me before I could stop it.
“Or are you already too desperate? That’s what it smells like to me. My little omega’s falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re already desperate for me to fill your aching cunt, aren’t you, baby girl?”
His tone was different than I’d ever heard it. He spoke in a low, husky voice, and his tone was teasing but demanding at the same time. It made me dizzy.
“Already forgotten your words, omega? Has the heat gotten to your brain?” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and rubbed his nose along the skin below my ear. He was scenting me. “Or is it your Alpha who’s gotten to you?”
Instead of answering, I clawed at his clothes desperately, trying to undress him in my lustful haze. He allowed me to take his shirt off, though he undid his pants himself. His body… how was he even more impressive naked? I took one look at those sculpted muscles, at the dark swirls of hair that covered his chest and stomach, and knew that that was the kind of body that put the gods to shame. His cock bounced against his stomach as he stepped out of his underwear. It was thick and long, and as I watched the red, aching tip release pre-cum, I wondered how I could possibly fit his girth inside of me.
“My turn,” he breathed before moving to hover over me again.
One minute I was clad in my shorts and t-shirt, and the neck my clothes were in shreds on the floor. Walter’s hungry gaze made note of every inch of skin I beared for him, and I was too fucked out to feel self-conscious.
“Fuck me, Alpha,” I begged. “I need you inside of me!”
He growled before spreading my legs and pressing his length against my core. Our lips met just as he pushed inside me, and my nails dug into his shoulder at the burst of pleasure that ripped from me. His mouth was on my chest a second later, and as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, his teeth cut into the skin over my heart.
Claiming me.
...
tag squad:
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gamerwoo · 4 years ago
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[Tales from the Pack] Joshua: Second Chance (Part Three)
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Characters: Joshua x female reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, some fluffy angst too so it’s not really angst is it lmao
Word count: 1,988
Summary: After his mate died, Joshua always blamed himself and never wanted to imprint again. However, fate has other ideas when he meets you: a young, energetic werecoyote that’s quite the opposite of him. He insists he doesn’t want a new mate – nobody’s even sure if he’s ready for a new one – but he can’t ignore his instincts.
Previous | Next | Second Chance Masterlist
“Oh,” the girl beside you seemed surprised that your eyes opened, squinting against the light, “you’re awake. How do you feel?”
You only groaned in reply. You definitely didn’t feel as awful as you recalled, but you still didn’t feel good.
“We’ve cleaned the remaining wolfsbane from your system, so you should make a full recovery,” the girl told you, her voice soft and soothing.
She definitely didn’t look like she was from here. She had brown skin, round eyes, and long black hair that she kept clipped back away from her face. Had you seen her before when you were dying? No, you couldn’t tell. Your memories from then were too foggy.
Wait, you were dying. How were you alive?
You opened your mouth to speak, but your eyes finally adjusted enough where you could see the person laying on a cot behind the girl. His eyes were closed, and you couldn’t tell if he was passed out or sleeping, but you just felt very strongly toward him. Much stronger than you’d felt about anybody ever. He was absolutely beautiful, and all you wanted to do was walk the couple feet of space between your cot and his to stroke his hair and cheek.
You didn’t know why you felt so strongly about a stranger, but you also weren’t questioning it. You were a curious person, yes, but you tended to just roll with the punches.
The girl noticed your gaze had drifted behind her, and she chuckled, “Would you like to be closer? It’s better for mates to heal if they’re as close as possible, and he needs all the healing he can get.”
Mates? That wasn’t something you’d heard about before, but you could probably guess what it implied. Either way, your head was nodding before your brain could really think much about it.
The girl stood and moved her stool out of the way before wheeling your cot closer to his until they were pressed together. Your face was almost right next to his now, and you observed every single detail of him. You didn’t even know his name or anything about him, but your heart and your instincts already told you you’d do anything for him.
“They’re cute,” Minjee commented once she entered the room as her partner continued to stand by the doorway and watch the two of you.
Prajya hummed in reply, her hand finding Minjee’s, “I don’t think the girl knows anything about herself. I told her he’s her mate and she seemed a little clueless.”
“Well, she is young,” Minjee noted. “Maybe nobody’s told her about creatures like her.”
Prajya nodded slowly before turning her head to look at her partner, “Did things with the other wolf go well?”
Minjee nodded, “Perfect, actually. Sura’s just finishing a few minor things and getting him settled into a bed to recover. His brother and the girls are still waiting in the living room.”
“I should go see if they need anything,” Prajya decided, pressing a quick kiss to Minjee’s cheek before she left.
Minjee turned back to the two of you after her girlfriend had left, but saw that you weren’t awake anymore. Your eyes were closed, one of your hands resting on Joshua’s as he slept. Minjee smiled to herself, thinking both of you looked like you were doing better already.
-
Josh still wasn’t awake. Even Hansol had woken up before his older brother did. Wonwoo had already brought Soomin and Suvi back to the house, and Joshua still wasn’t awake. It worried Hansol that he was asleep for so long, but Minjee assured him it was just because he had exerted his power too much.
“Is he going to get it back...?” Hansol wondered, his yellow eyes warily watching Joshua sleep beside you.
“Yes, with time,” Minjee replied with a warm smile. “You really have nothing to worry about, Hansol. Besides, he has his mate with him, so the healing will be faster.”
“Yeah, if he isn’t stubborn about it,” he muttered to himself, the human girl unable to make out what he said.
That was something else that was worrying Hansol. Joshua already had a mate and lost her. Would he really be so open about a new mate? Even if he did use the remaining energy he had in him just to save you, he did that on pure instinct. It didn’t necessarily mean things would go smoothly when he’d wake up.
“Who is she, anyway?” Kyung wondered, nodding her head in your direction. 
You were still sleeping beside him, your hand still in his. Neither of you had even moved, either, but Minjee also promised that was nothing to worry about.
“I’m not sure of her name,” Minjee sighed, “but my partners and I found her when we were out checking traps one night. My mate, Sura, knows where some of the werewolf hunters place traps regularly. He likes to patrol them and see if anyone was caught so we can help. We found her in one of them. Sura said she might be a werecoyote.”
“Werecoyote?” Hansol repeated.
The doctor nodded, “Yes. He noticed she doesn’t smell quite like werewolf, but she’s definitely something.”
The two mated wolves could admit they noticed the same thing but kept to themselves about it. They thought maybe it was just because of the wolfsbane.
The pair looked between the two of you. While Joshua seemed peaceful now, both Hansol and Kyung weren’t sure how he’d react when he woke up. They could practically already see the sour look on his face before grumbling something about not wanting a new mate. They hoped maybe they’d be wrong, but…
“What do you think she’ll do if he denies her?” Kyung wondered to her mate, unsure if you’d be as patient and understanding as Hansol. They didn’t know anything about you.
Hansol let out a quiet sigh, “I don’t know, but they’ll both just...eventually...” he didn’t even want to say it, but after a beat of silence, he quietly said, “die.”
-
“Werecoyotes are creatures I’ve never encountered,” Soomin hummed thoughtfully as she flipped through Beom’s book of creatures.
Once Wonwoo had returned home with her and Suvi, the youngest excitedly began talking about how Joshua had imprinted and saved his new mate. Meanwhile, the rest of the pack seemed shocked and almost horrified. They knew how Joshua was, and they knew he wouldn’t want another mate. What happened with Lilly messed him up pretty badly, but it also made him afraid of himself for a long time. He’d be too scared to be with someone else.
While Suvi was explaining what happened and the pack began spewing questions, Soomin was already looking through Beom’s stuff to find some answers.
“I think Beom had told me a story or two of werecoyotes, though,” Soomin continued.
“I met a few,” Yeji chimed in. “They didn’t really seem too different from you guys.”
“They’re not -- not really, other than some minor stuff,” Soomin said after finally reaching the page she was looking for. She scanned it over, using her finger to guide her eyes. “Overall, they’re essentially the same, just a little weaker -- smaller, not as strong, but they are a little quicker because of their smaller size. It makes them more agile.”
“Anyone can outrun that old man,” Jeonghan scoffed.
“Who’s the oldest, anyway?” Suvi asked.
“Nobody really knows anymore, but we just assume it’s Josh,” Jun shrugged. “Years start to blend together after a while.”
“Speaking of not knowing things,” Danbi spoke up as she looked around the packed living room, “where’s Soonyoung?”
“It’s nighttime, so he’s in town,” Jihoon sighed.
“I thought we were still being careful?”
“Since when does Soonyoung follow rules?” Seungcheol asked with a quirked brow.
Soomin cleared her throat to grab the pack’s attention and bring them back to the bigger matter at hand: you. Once they were paying attention again, she continued, “Werecoyotes have the same heightened senses, the same weaknesses, and the same instincts as werewolves. However, because they’re smaller and weaker, they recover slower and are more likely to die from things like silver bullets.”
“So Joshua’s new mate is essentially a hyperactive accident-prone child?” Wonwoo snorted.
Soomin frowned, finally looking up from the book to look at her mate, “That’s mean. And she may very well act mature. Just because they’re faster than werewolves doesn’t make them hyper.”
“You said werecoyotes are just werewolves, basically,” Jeonghan shrugged. “You’ve seen our pack.”
Seungcheol nodded, “Seokmin specifically.”
“Hey,” the young wolf whined.
“Let’s not judge her just yet,” Soomin sighed.
Jihoon raised his eyebrows, “You didn’t even meet her?”
“She was passed out,” Suvi was the one to explain. “Her and Joshua were sleeping beside each other when we left.”
“I wish I could be there when they wake up,” Seungkwan chuckled. “I’m sure that’ll be a mess.”
-
It wasn’t until the sun was about to peak over the horizon that Josh finally groaned and rubbed his eyes with one hand. The other felt warm with a light weight in it that kept him from moving it.
Wait…
The older wolf’s eyes opened before slowly looking to his left hand. He saw another hand in his and his eyes followed the arm up to the owner. He recognized your face. Not only did he remember what had happened as soon as he saw you, but he was bombarded with your face in his dreams -- well, more like nightmares. All he dreamt about was you and Lilly.
He wanted to snatch his hand away. He wanted to growl at you and wake you up and tell you to keep your hands to yourself. He wanted to yell at you to not touch him.
But he was too exhausted to do anything but lay there and glare at you with golden eyes.
“Oh, good,” a voice made him turn his head, “you’re finally awake.”
Joshua was briefly introduced to Prajya during his first check-up. She was a nice girl, but she had a little...bite to her. Josh liked her from the get go.
“See you’ve noticed your little friend,” Prajya chuckled. “You don’t seem too fond of her, though.”
His face scrunched up in almost disgust, “What is that?”
Prajya let out a snort at his reaction to his mate.
In your sleep, your nose wiggled a few times before you reached up to scratch it. Joshua rolled his eyes feeling his heart swell at how cute you seemed. He wanted his instincts to fuck off.
“I think you already know,” she replied in amusement.
“Who is she?” he asked.
The foreign girl just shrugged, “Beats me. We didn’t get a name from her or where she came from or anything.”
Unable to resist the curiosity, he slowly wondered, “...What happened to her?”
“Caught in a net that had barbs laced with wolfsbane,” she sighed as she leaned back against a wall and studied your face. “We were sure she was going to die until you showed up and--”
“Don’t,” he said sharply before dropping his tone to be only grumpy rather than angry, “mention it.”
Prajya just shrugged, “If you didn’t want it mentioned, you shouldn’t have done it. Kyung was right, you are a grumpy old man.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. Of course Kyung was gossiping with her old friends about him. The new alpha was a piece of work.
But she wasn’t really wrong, and even he knew that.
Prajya was silent as she watched Joshua watch you. It was clear that even though he openly showed his distaste for his new mate, his instincts were strong and hard to ignore. Even through the disgust and annoyance on his face, Prajya could see the love and adoration clear in his eyes.
The grumpy, old werewolf, and the young, carefree werecoyote. This would be interesting to see.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 3 years ago
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Mind the Gap: Three
Shang-Chi laid you carefully on the bed and leaned over to kiss you on the forehead, smiling a little when you fuss at him sleepily. “It’s okay,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of your face tenderly, “I’m only going down stairs.”
When you sit up. Bolt upright suddenly, he reels back. It takes a moment for him to realize that you’re not what’s staring at him. Your eyes are the same unearthly silver they had been. “Let her sleep,” he ordered sharply.
“We,” a voice that is your but… Not yours replies haughtily, “Do not sleep. We are eternal.”
“Not without a body you’re not,” he fired back, frustrated. You just got to sleep. You were just so close to feeling better. Your face doesn’t change, not really. There’s an absence of expression. One that he’d taken as seriousness in that empty field, but now realizes that the Archive probably doesn’t… care enough to make you appear “normal” when speaking. Still, even if the Archive wasn’t sneering at him where he could see it, he could feel it.
“Have care, boy. Our vessel will not belong to you.”
And before he could reply, You fell backwards onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow with a soft thump.
“You’re right about that,” he says quietly, not sure if it can hear him or not. “She doesn’t belong to me. She doesn’t belong to anyone… You might have saved her life once, but now you’re just squatting.” He shakes his head and pulls a blanket over you, carefully tucking you in before turning and heading back downstairs.
__________
Downstairs, he finds party preparations in full swing. There’s food being cooked and more food being ordered from town to be picked up. There’s a small army of people moving tables and arranging lights and torches and building bonfires. It was cozy looking. And impossible for him to tell how many people were coming.
“How is she recovering?”
Shang-Chi turned and faced his father, smiling ruefully, “Not as fast as I’d like. But at least she’s asleep.”
He nodded and gave his son a sympathetic look. “They’re all worried,” he cautioned.
“We should start a club. Y/N can make us jackets.” When his father gave him a look, Shang-Chi smiled a little. “It spoke to me,” he said after a second.
“The Archive? What did It say?”
“It told me that she didn’t belong to me,” he said, restraining an eye roll with effort.
Wenwu frowned, “It challenged you?”
Shang-Chi shook his head, “It wasn’t a challenge. It was a warning. She never even woke up.”
They stood for a long moment and considered the implications of that. But neither one of them had a chance to say more when Katy burst through the screen door with Xialing on her heels. “You have got to see this! There’s fucking werewolves!”
“Werewolves? Kai is a werewolf-”
“No. What? No- I-” Katy is bouncing on the balls of her feet and bolts back out the door.
“A pack,” Xialing said rolling her eyes, more fond than irritated. “Specifically her father’s pack.”
And it’s curiosity more than anything that lures Shang-Chi outside. You never talk about your parents- Not that he can really blame you. He hadn’t talked about his family with you at all. And now? He has the gift of staying in your childhood bedroom. And seeing the things that made you into the woman he loves. Still. Werewolves? He assumes your mother is a witch but- If this going to be a fight? Is it going to upset you?
He walks down the steps to see Kai and who he assumes is your father. You have the same lazy half smile and the same warm eyes that you share with your brother. And for just a second, he wants to turn around and bolt. He’s seen you dismember demons. He’s faced creatures from other dimensions. But somehow? Meeting his Girlfriend’s dad is more terrifying than both those things.
He’s a big man. Tall. Imposing. A solid wall of muscle. A shock of curly dark hair… It was almost like the universe had distilled his every idea of a werewolf into one person. Except for the jaws. And slobber.
“Good Luck,” Xialing snorted quietly.
“Gee thanks,” he said taking a deep breath and stepping forward. He’d been seen, there wasn’t any escape now.
The huge man stepped forward, “I’m Renaud,” he said. His voice a deep rumble, like Thunder. “You, must be Shang-chi.” He took the hand that was offered and shook it, not as roughly as Shang-Chi had expected. And he hadn’t missed that his name had been pronounced correctly. “Thank you, for calling my son… Just because Y/n can handle things on her own doesn’t mean she should.”
“So you found her?”
“Of course,” he said, smiling, “I always know how to find my kids.”
Shang-Chi smiled in spite of himself. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since you’d seen your father. But somethings seemed to be universal. “My father-” he started, But Renaud made an impetuous gesture.
“We’ve met,” he chuckled, taking the hand that Wenwu offered.
“Several times, in fact,” Wenwu said. “And I hope-”
The Werewolf released his hand and rocked back on his heels, “The sins of the father and all that,” he said with another impetuous gesture. “I learned long ago that telling a witch what to do is always a bad idea.”
Shang- Chi looked from one to the other and glanced at Katy and Xialing for help. He had the distinct impression that he was rapidly helping to establish some new international thing. When both the girls shrugged at him at a loss he glanced at Kai who gave him a small nod.
“Dad,” Kai said, “I’d hate to interrupt whatever work meeting is about to happen but… Hospitality Law. You know Grandma and Lea like to et all the stupid formal things out of the way up top.”
Renaud looked at them apologetically and turned to his son, “And then I’d like to see your sister.”
“So far as I know she’s asleep,” Kai said leading him away, the other three wolves that had been standing there watching followed after.
“It’s the middle of the day,” he protested.
“Not for her. She’s still at least a day behind the rest of us.”
Shang-Chi watched them go and let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “At least no one at me,” he said, looking back towards the house.
“Werewolves haven’t done that in public for 300 years,” Wenwu snorted.
___________
People arrive steadily. Bringing kids. And food. And drinks. Shang-Chi watches in fascination as all the tables Kai had hefted into place filled with things. And the Coolers he had helped Lea to fill with Ice started keeping drinks cold.
So many faces and names. It’s a whirl and a blur. Still. It doesn’t take long for the kids to warm up and claim him, and Katy as their new playmates. Like all children they’re susceptible to a good story and an infectious laugh. Except for one. There was a little boy. He stayed near an oak tree. A Book over his lap. And he seemed to be watching the goings on, all the flips and little bursts of magical energy with irritation. He didn’t want to play. At least not with them. And while no one bothered him, it was clear that the other kids didn’t want to play with him either.
At least- At least for a while.
When you appeared, a little bleary eyed with your hair in a messy bun and some fresh clothes. His whole face lights up. Shang-Chi hears the shout and watches, grinning as his book goes flying and he launches himself at you, clinging onto your torso like a spider monkey and burying his face in your neck.
And suddenly, the silent boy with the great big book is talking. And talking. And he can’t seem to stop smiling.
“She’s his person,” Lea said smiling a little, handing Shang-Chi a glass of cold lemonade. He looked at her in askance and she smiled a little, “They both understand what it’s like to be the weirdest person in a room full of weirdos,” she explained. “Emmet had no magical ability. And Y/N hears voices and can tear out a Vampire’s heart with her bare hands.”
“Fair enough,” he says nodding, watching you greet the kids with hugs and kisses and declarations that they’re all too tall. “It’s good to know I’m just a novelty.”
Lea grins, “No one can ever take her place with them… It was Kai with the last crop. But Y/N was always his buddy. She’s had him wrapped around her finger since the first time someone put her in his lap.”
“So you’re telling me I should expect a big brother lecture?”
“Maybe. But. It’s more likely that he figures she could take you in a fight and there’s not much point.” The redhead’s eyes sparkle with mischief though. And Shang-Chi chuckles.
“You think so?”
“If she can’t, the Archive can.”
That was a sobering thought. And Shang- Chi took a deep breath. “What- what happened?”
The woman looked at him and for the first time, he considered that she was probably older than her face. Despite the lack of lines her eyes seem… Ancient. “I don’t know if I should tell you. I’ve spent… A long time keeping those details a secret.”
“I just-”
“I know,” she says softly. “You should know. If only… If only so you know she wasn’t always this way. She used to want… She wanted to be in the Olympics. She wanted to be a rockstar… She didn’t want to be this.”
Shang-Chi was quiet. Waiting. He didn’t really know what to say.
“Her mother- When she was born her mother was furious,” Lea said after a long moment. “600 years and so many babies I’ve brought into the world… And the was the only time I’ve ever seen That. She refused to even hold her.”
“Why-”
“Because she was powerful,” Lea said. “I knew- We all knew- the second she took her first breath that she wasn’t just a Witch. And for Clara? That was a betrayal. Clara had spent DECADES trying to amass more power. And here her daughter just had it? Absolutely not. It was unthinkable.”
Shang-Chi winced. “So then-”
“She sold her,” Lea said bitterly. “Put her on the black market and handed her off to the highest bidder.”
“No-”
“What she sold her to though? It was a… a cult. A fringe group. They took children like her and tried to- to change them. And if torture wouldn’t change it, burning. Well. The holy fire would at least make sure they went to heaven.”
He felt himself waver and he leaned against the tree that was at his back. “What the fuck-”
“Indeed,” Lea said nodding. “To make a long story short, It took Kai, Renaud, and her Great Aunt Jet to bring her home. And it cost Jet her life… It was a price she would gladly pay but not everyone feels that Y/N was worth the effort. Including Y/N.”
He looked back towards you, watching as you tossed one of the kids up to Kai who tickled them and tossed them to one of the waiting werewolves who promptly pitched them off the dock and into the lake. But on the edges, he could see the barely masked disapproval. And he knew you. He knew that you knew it was there.
“Lenora has been trying to keep things at bay but… I’d be lying if I said I blamed Y/N for keeping her distance. She loved Jet. We all did. And it’s- it’s hard for her, knowing that if it weren’t for her- She might still be here. She might be able to control the Archive. Instead of being controlled.”
And all he can do is watch you. And hurt. He hurts for who you are now. And for the little girl that you had been. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“Shang- Chi,” Lea cautioned, “She says she doesn’t remember but-”
“You don’t know?”
“No. We don’t. And if she’s trying to protect herself-”
“I won’t ask her,” he said, “I don’t think I’d want to remember that either.”
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twstdreams · 4 years ago
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Werewolves Hide Behind the Moon
Request: Yay requests are open again! If it’s not much trouble could I please request gender neutral headcannons for yandere! Werewolf scarabia boys with either a red riding hood or huntsman inspired reader? I love both of these ideas but I can’t choose so I’ll leave that up to you if you don’t mind. You don’t have to answer my request if you don’t like it. Have a happy halloween!
Happy Halloween! I chose one of each. Reposting because I liked this and I want the tags to work!
Warning: yandere, pressing boundaries, manipulation
Kalim Al Asim
You know that as a hunter, it’s your responsibility to protect the people and hunt the dangers of the forest so regular citizens can traverse it freely
Lately, you’ve heard reports of a white wolf getting a little too friendly with humans. It’s never attacked anyone yet but it certainly gave several people quite the fright
So when you meet Kalim, closer to a puppy than a wolf, for the first time you’re conflicted. You told him to stay still, weapon in hand and murder intent clear, yet he just listened obediently. He morphs into a human beastmen then throws a compliment about how cute you look to top it off! Doesn’t he understand what kind of position he’s in?
You’re hesitant to hurt him, because honestly Kalim hasn’t done anything wrong yet. At most, people got an unexpected fright because Kalim is a little too domestic? Can you even have a domestic wolf?
You’ve heard pet dogs have a more ferocious growl than Kalim. Somehow, you’re always chiding Kalim to stay off the road, leave people alone, so they don’t get antsy. Some citizens are questioning why you let the werewolf live, but they haven’t seen the innocence in his gaze, how much he loves it when you scratch behind his ears, and how unbearably friendly he is
Kalim always pouts and says he’s too lonely to stay away, you guess it’s his nature as a pack animal. But the inquiries are becoming less and less gentle and the looks you’re getting aren’t as friendly. How could someone so adorable be getting you in so much trouble?
So you make a little promise. If Kalim doesn’t venture to the main path, he can come visit your house that’s on the outskirts of the village. You don’t have any neighbours so no one can question if they see a fuzzy tail near your house or not
Except Kalim doesn’t visit once a week, maybe once a month, no Kalim visits every day. Is it better than him roaming on the main roads? Yes, but barely. At first he’d sneak in through the back door or patiently wait on your welcome mat. He never means any harm but the one time you had a visitor come over, complaining of bears nearby, you nearly had a heart attack because Kalim was outside your door. You barely scrambled fast enough to kick him back into the forest and for once, you think you actually heard him growl? When you ask, he just says it was a whine because your precious time with him was cut off
You’re seriously considering investing in stronger locks because the amount of time you’ve come home to Kalim just lounging in your house is one too many. You couldn’t believe how proud he was of himself when he explained that this way no one could tell he hung around your house if he was in it!
At this rate, you’ve given up. If you sit on the couch and read a book, Kalim is bound to lay on your legs or stomach and curl up, soothed only by pets.
When you leave, to go out, work, meet with friends, sometimes Kalim will nip at you, nuzzling into your neck while complaining about how it’s not as fun without you. He starts bringing you an assortment of trinkets, some jewels you’re not sure how he got but he always brushes away your questions with remarks about how you must like these gifts so you don’t need to work or visit anyone else! You always decline but somehow Kalim’s hearing doesn’t work when you do
You ask if he has any family or friends and Kalim mentions how you should join his pack and meet them, but you immediately shut down that idea. There’s been talk of another wolf and you need to protect the town.
But the next day when you’re in town to get more information, the wolf has been found dead by the road. Except, if you didn’t kill it, who did? You don’t know who but it makes Kalim more insistent on spending time with you. See, isn’t everything okay? Isn’t it better with him?
Jamil Viper
Everyone warns you how dangerous werewolves are but no one told you how attractive they are! Or how active during the day they were!
You were going to visit your grandma. She could still make short walks around the house but the treck to the village was a bit too much for her. You were walking on the main road you’d traversed a million times, when suddenly a clawed hand latched onto your arm and pulled you behind a bush!
A screech nearly burst from your throat, but another hand muffled any of your screams. “Be quiet for your own sake,” a low voice whispered. When you looked at its owner, you’re surprised to see a handsome werewolf, in beastmen form, with shiny black hair and celestite eyes that are a little too easy to lose yourself in
You follow his eyes and notice a pack of wolves in the middle of the road, blood stained teeth and noses sniffing for their next prey. The werewolf beside you tugs your hand, you’re unsure where but if he saved you from that pack, maybe he’s not all bad?
He takes you on an untread path, passing by unfamiliar trees and fauna you’ve never seen before, but the werewolf doesn’t hesitate for a second. Before you know it, you’re in your Grandma’s backyard. The werewolf lets go of your hand
“Wait! Will they still be there later?” You might need to warn Grandma or stay with her! He stays quiet for a bit but then says, “It’s not safe. You never know when they might come back. I’ll guide you later.”
Before he leaves, to where you don’t know, you discover his name is Jamil. Wait, how did he know where Grandma’s house is?
These walks with Jamil become more and more often. He’s always so nice to you, telling you about how he’s not like other werewolves, he doesn’t want to eat other humans. The running joke between you two is that curry tastes better anyway
And yes, maybe going on little adventures and straying from the path to have lunch with a werewolf isn’t advised, but Jamil is always kind to you. He’s so meticulous, has you at grandma’s place or your own home on time, remembers your favourite flowers, so yeah maybe you have a little crush
Sometimes it feels one-sided though, Jamil never tells you much about himself but also never fails to escort you, so he must care right? He says the hierarchy in werewolf packs are severe so you avoid the sore subject.
Besides it always feel so much better when you bring a smile to his face, whether it’s giving him an extra cookie from the basket or brushing through his hair to undo any tangles
And you can’t help the way your heart flutters when he gifts you a necklace, a chic fabric chocker to be exact, and you make sure to wear it whenever you can
But one time when Jamil says he’s going to be busy, family obligations and all, and you say that you can head to Grandma’s by yourself, his vehement denial makes you stop.
A flurry of reasons spill from his lips, it’s not safe, there’s going to be a hunt soon, and lectures about how you can’t possibly take care of yourself leave you speechless. Yes, maybe you were a little indulgent and dependent on Jamil, but you’ve always kept pace with him and made it to Grandma’s on your own before.
Still, there’s no reason Jamil would lie to you, right? So why does your necklace suddenly feel so much like a collar?
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angstymarauder · 4 years ago
Text
Arch Enemies {M.M}
Marlene McKinnon x Female!reader ; marauders era
summary: where two long-time rivals realize how thin the line between love and hate really are after an unfortunate quidditch incident.
word count: 3.4k ish
contains: angst, fluff, a heated kiss?, side of wolfstar,
a/n: i didn’t re-read it bc I'm lazy. Also if people could drop some wlw angsty harry potter recs that would be phenomenal.
· · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · · · · · ∞ · · ·
Marlene McKinnon has been your rival since as far back in your Hogwarts years as you can remember. Always at each other’s heads. Always a competition between the two of you. Always striving to be better than the other.
The two of you made just about everything a competition. Chess Matches. Pranking. Grades. Eating. Walking. Detentions (you almost got kicked out of Hogwarts that year.)
Anything that could somehow be made competitive, you two competed. And while you tended to beat her with grades, she often beat you in things that took place outside of the classroom.
The Marauders, apparently, have been placing bets and keeping track of your wins against one another. Lily even claims that one time she walked into their room unexpectedly and caught them writing on a poster on their wall that had both your names in big letters on each side and a series of tallies below each with dates and event names on the bottom, but as soon as they saw her one of them casted a spell to make it disappear.
This year was no different. You knew it was stupid to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to try out for the quidditch team without Marlene fighting you for the same spot. You have no real desire to be on the quidditch team, quite honestly, but your older siblings play quidditch, your parents played quidditch, your aunts, your uncles, your cousins, your grandparents, your great-grandparents.
You have a quidditch family and you do not want to can not disappoint them.
The hope that Marlene may leave you alone for this one was shattered, as you expected it to be, when you walk into the team's locker room, a bag of quidditch gear in your hand. “Y/L” Marlene spoke as soon as her eyes met yours. Her eyes widened more than usual, a change most people don’t notice, but then again, you’re not most people. You know Marlene better than anyone else, you’ve memorized the meaning of every look in her eyes, every curve of her lips, every flick of her hands. You know her brain, how she works, what she is thinking, for the most part at least because right now you found yourself momentarily confused by the surprise lacing her voice. Why is she so surprised? Did she not expect you to be there? Your thoughts are cut short when the blonde standing at the other side of the room clears her throat in an attempt to reactive her favorite tone of voice when speaking to you, cockiness, “you going for the beater position too?”
“Yea,” you respond, walking over to one of the lockers.
“May the best player win,” you continued unpacking your bag, putting on the final touches to your uniform, but you didn’t need to look at her to know that she was smirking as she spoke, you could hear it clear enough in her voice.
She awaited a snarky response from you, you know that, but you didn’t want to waste your energy on a catfight right now. Your anxiety is already through the roof, there is enough pressure on you at the moment that you feel like your brain physically cannot handle any more conflict, so you ignore her.
Her eyes burn holes into your body as you continue to pull your knee pads on. Eventually, the door opens and you listen to her steps as she walks out of the locker room, closing the door with a slam and leaving you all alone.
It’s not long before you’re 100% ready for tryouts. You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror for a moment before leaving. Taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. Calm your mind. It helps a little bit, but maybe not enough.
· · · ∞ · · ·
“Y/L! Watch out!” is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.
The tryouts were going great, James was the captain this year and after stealing a glance at his little sheet, you could tell that you were going to beat Marlene out for this spot.
You should’ve been happier with that knowledge than you were, but somewhere deep down you almost wanted Marlene to beat you. This wasn't what you wanted and by the look in her eyes, you knew that this was what she wanted. A strange feeling arose in your chest each time she looked at you during tryouts, her eyes conveyed a message you hadn’t seen her wear yet and all you wanted to do was decode it. To understand why her eyes looked… sad? Almost. Like she knew you were going to beat her and she was upset about it. She’s never been upset before, always a team player. She took her losses as they came and just vowed to beat you next time. But for some reason… for some reason this was different.
· · · ∞ · · ·
Marlene’s Pov:
You looked so pretty. Flyaway hairs and a look of determination on your face as you swatted away Bludgers so effortlessly. She loved quidditch, but she wasn't as good as you. Jealous, not because you’ll win whatever competition the two of you are probably making out of this, but jealous because she knows she won’t get the position she’s been working her ass off for. Lost in thought she doesn't even notice the bludger coming towards her, luckily she hits it just in time, but then… Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Marlene watched as the bludger tumbled straight towards you, “Y/L! Watch out,” was all she could get in before it hit you right in the head.
· · · ∞ · · ·
The first thing you felt when you woke up was an intense pounding in your skill that caused an unconscious groan to leave your mouth. As you increasingly became aware your head began hurting more and more. You went to bring your hand up to rub your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up when you felt another hand on yours. Opening your eyes only increased your headache, but the desire to know whose hand was holding yours overruled the pain. Their hand was soft, warm, it felt like … like home. That's the only word you could find in this pain-forsaken state to properly describe the feeling.
The blur of a person who held your hand made you think you were crazy. You found yourself blinking a few times in attempts to clear your vision, not initially trusting your eyes and barely trusting them now as you see Marlene McKinnon's hand, holding yours.
Marlene McKinnon.
Your arch-nemesis?
The one who practically hates you?
Yea… her.
What the fuck.
Why is she holding your hand… and why do you never want her to let go?
You can feel your lips curve up into an unconscious smile as you stare at the place where her hand connects with yours before roaming your eyes up to her figure to her sleeping face being held up by her other hand, elbow resting on her armchair next to your bed. She looks so peaceful, so beautiful, and you wonder why you’ve never noticed how gorgeous she was before. How her lips look so soft and her skin so smooth. The way the waning gibbous moonlight shines into the room from the large infirmary windows and lights her face up in a way you’ve never seen in before and in that moment you want nothing more than to stare at her face like that forever. You don’t even notice your other hand moving up to touch her face until you hear a voice whisper from a few beds over from yours. “Oh, you’re up.” Startled, you feel like you were just caught committing a crime and immediately pull your hand back to where it was before. Marlene shifts in her sleep from your quick movements and you’re watching this moment slip through your fingers, silently begging whatever runs the universe to let you stay in this moment just a little bit longer. Thankfully, they answer and Marlene stills, returning to her peaceful sleep. “Don’t worry, Lils says she sleeps like a log.”
You giggle at these words, turning to face Remus with a smile, “yea, she does. We can never get her up in the morning.” “It’s the same with Sirius. He never wants to wake up.” The two of you giggle quietly, afraid to wake up anyone in the castle this late at night, especially the girl sitting beside you. You talk about Remus first, asking if the full moon the night before was really that bad that Pomfrey made him stay overnight again and if he's okay. He assures you that he is fine and redirects the conversation to you, “What about you? Are you okay?”
“I don’t even know what happened to me,” you tell him, “or why my head hurts so much or why M-” you pause, now looking at the girl. You’re scared of speaking the words out loud, afraid it may reveal that her presence is only a dream or a figment of your imagination and that you will sound crazy if you speak about it.
“Or why Marlene is here, holding your hand.” Remus finishes your sentence.
“Or that.” you turn your gaze back to Remus, now wishing the moon was a little darker so your close friend can’t see the blush that is surely on your face.
“Well to answer your first questions,” started Remus, “You got hit with a bludger during tryouts, Marlene and Sirius rushed u in here while I was taking a nap - thanks for that by the way”
“Sorry” you giggled
“- and then Sirius went back to practice, as for McKinnon there, she refused to leave. I think she feels bad cause she's the one that hit you. Pomfrey said you probably have a concussion which means you can’t … well you can’t play quidditch this year.” You should be focusing on the quidditch part, it was something you were working so hard for, but you can’t stop your mind from trailing off to her. Is she only here because she feels bad? Or is there more to it? You hope it's more. You’re not sure when these feelings came to fruition, but they’re there now and you’re worried about getting your hopes up because it means risking yourself getting let down.
“I think she likes you,” you take a minute to process the werewolves' words, glancing between the blonde’s head and her hand.
“You think so?” you say with a hopeful smile.
“I think she’s liked you since first year and you’re just too oblivious to realize it,” you look up with him, your confused face causing a slight chuckle to leave his lips, “I’m observant, you know that but it's not that difficult to see how in love you two are, even though you act like you hate each other. I think she knows what she feels,” you both glanced at the girl, “and I think you just figured out what you feel.”
You smile at his words. “I think you’re right,” you admit, too tired to be stubborn and reject what your heart says is a fact.
“Just wait till January to tell everyone please, I have a bet going with the boys and- “ Suddenly the door to the infirmary opens, Remus goes quiet with confusion and Marlen begins to stir from the noise. She’s really waking up this time, you immediately close your eyes, unsure of what else to do or even say to her. You can feel her eyes on your face, her hand holding yours. “Good morning sleepyhead,” remarked Remus. You curse out his name in your head as you feel Marlene’s hand immediately rip out of yours. All you want to do is look at her face, read her mind. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? Your mind went to the worst.
“How’s the girlfriend?” marked a new voice, Sirius. Of course. Who else would come to the infirmary this late other than Sirius to check up on Remus?
“She’s not my girlfriend.” remarked Marlene, her tone sending a brief stab of pain through your own heart, “I don’t even like her,” another stab.
“Yea, okay, and Moonys not my werewolf boyfriend.” You would’ve laughed, hearing the noises of Remus hitting Sirius in response to his words, but your mind was stuck on the words of the girl who was still standing close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off her body.
“I don’t like her,” she said, her words laced with annoyance and anger, “In fact, I hate her. We’re literally enemies.”
“Then why are you here then?” Remus rebutted, he probably meant to be helpful, but the words she spoke next only made your heart ache more.
“Because I’m not a monster! I hit her with the bludger and I felt bad. That’s it. Nothing else.” you were almost thankful when you started to hear her moving around, collecting her stuff, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes and you didn’t want her to see. “I’m tired so I’m going, goodbye.” And with that you waited, listening to the sounds of her footsteps, getting quieter with each moment. You listened to the opening and closing of the infirmary door and only dared to open your eyes again once you could no longer hear the clicking of her shoes down the hallway.
“You okay?” Remus spoke first, witnessing the silent tears now streaming down your face. You wish you stayed asleep. You wish you never looked at her. Never let yourself feel something you knew she wouldn’t reciprocate. You curse yourself for believing Remus’ hopeful words.
“Fine,” you spoke quietly before turning to your side, the back facing the two boys who get to share the kind of romance you find yourself only able to dream about.
“M’Sorry,” you heard Remus whisper, before the weight of your head and your heart lulled you into a dreamless sleep.
· · · ∞ · · ·
You woke up to Madam Pomfrey's voice urging you awake. Her soft voice reminded you of your mother and made you want to curl up into her arms and cry, Marlene's words last night still resting their weight on your chest. “How are you this morning, love?” she asks, placing a plate of food on the bedside table, you're thankful that she doesn't mention the tear stains that probably made their home on your cheeks last night.
“M’fine,” you mumble, “better.”
“Good, good,” she smiles, handing you a glass of water that you didn’t realize how much you needed until the whole glass was gone in a minute and Madam Pomfrey had to fetch you a new one. “Took a big hit yesterday, that Miss McKinnon has a good arm.” You hum in agreeance, an attempt to not be rude to the elder in front of you, but hearing her name still hurts, the wound of her words still leaving scars on your heart that haven’t even begun to scab. “Speaking of the devil,” the nurse spoke, your head raising up to see Marlene's figure entering the curtain that surrounded your bed. Her hair looked so soft, messier than you usually see it, but you liked it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from travelling down her face, taking in her beauty while she was awake. Bags plagued her beautiful brown eyes, she didn't sleep much last night. Your gaze moved to her lips, the same lips that unknowingly cut scars along your heart mere hours ago. Memories from the night before that you had allowed yourself to forget for a moment returned as fast as they left, returning the heartache that accompanies them. Suddenly, you found the hem of your shirt more interesting, keeping your gaze and your hands on that. “I’ll leave you two alone,” spoke Madam Pomfrey, ignoring the tension-filled silence that laid in the air, “I’d like to keep you here for a little while longer but you should be discharged by dinner,” and with that she left the two of you alone, your breaking heart not even strong enough to look at her.
“Hey,” she spoke first, breaking the silence, but not moving from her spot where she stood at the end of your bed. “Sorry I hit you with a bludger,” she tried to joke, but the tension was too thick that it was just awkward.
“Why are you here?” you ask, a sudden surge of bravery coming from the anger that stems from your sadness.
“Wh-What?”
“Why are you here?” “Because I feel bad? Because I'm not a total bitch and I care about you?” she remarks.
“Why do you care?” your voice grows louder, angrier than you want it, but you’re too stubborn to stop speaking now. “I can’t play anymore, you got the spot on the team, didn’t you? “I mean you said it yourself we’re enemies, right? You hate me?” you continue, repeating her words from last night. “So isn’t this what you wanted? You won. You beat me. Congratulations.”
“So you were eavesdropping?” she asks, her tone attempting to stay angry, but her eyes revealing that look you’re slowly seeing more and more often.
“It’s not eavesdropping if I’m lying right there.”
“Merlin, y/n, I don’t hate you!”
“Liar.”
“You’re so stubborn,” she yells, getting closer to your face.
“If you don’t hate me then why would you say it?” You sat up, both your voices were raising, anger surging through the air.
“Because I don’t hate you! I love you,” she yelled, and then everything went quiet. She loves me? Only now did you realize how close your faces were. Her lips were inches from yours, your ragged breaths intermingled with one another, both of you already exhausted from your previous argument. You looked up from her lips to her eyes, just to find them already staring into yours.
“You what?” you whispered so low that only she could hear it.
“ I-” her eyes were filled with fear. Fear that her feelings won’t be reciprocated. Fear to express the vulnerable emotion that has plagued her heart for how long? You don’t know. So you move forward and capture her lips in yours.
After the initial surprise, Marlene began to kiss you back, her hands finding the back of your neck and your head while yours found her hips. You broke apart too soon for your liking and she rested her forehead on yours. One of your hands moved to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before speaking. “I love you too.” You watched as her eyes lit up with joy and you couldn’t help but smile. “I get a point on the leaderboard for admitting it first,” she chuckled.
“Mmhm,” you hummed in agreeance leaning forward again so your lips brushed against hers as you spoke, “but I get one for kissing you first.”
“Dammit,” she whispered, before leaning in for another kiss.
· · · ∞ · · ·
“So Gryffindor Beater, huh?” you asked Marlene. The two of you laid together in the infirmary bed, her back pressed up against half of your chest, your arm hanging around her shoulder twirling and untwirling her hair with your one hand while both her hands played with the fingers of your other.
“Yea, James said it’s mine if I want it, but I don’t need to take it if you don’t want me to.”
“No, merlin no,” you said quickly, “I know how much you want that spot, I barely even wanted it. Was only doing it because with my family I felt like I had to.”
“Really?” She looked up at you hopefully, “you don't mind.”
“Nope.” “Promise?”
“Promise.” She gave her a peck on the lips before turning her head around again. “Plus, you’re going to look so hot in that uniform, I feel like I’ll be the real winner in this situation.” Your words earn a loud laugh from the girl in your arms and you feel like you're on cloud 9. You place a quick kiss on her temple and want nothing more than to be the one to make her laugh for the rest of your lives. Lives that you hopefully get to spend together.
Meanwhile…
“Told you so,” he whispered.
“I should’ve kept my mouth shut,” the second boy groaned, placing coins into the other boy's outstretched hand.
“Yea, but look how cute they are, Moony the Matchmaker.”
“Oh shut up Padfoot,” he groaned, “I’m hungry, let's go to dinner.” “Whatever you say handsome,” barked the boy before looping arms with his lover and walking away from the two girls in the infirmary who looked utterly and completely infatuated with one another.
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cupcakemolotov · 3 years ago
Text
Match My Heart to Yours
Okay, since the Exchange reveals have been pushed back until Thursday (for very, very good reasons) I have decided to post a tiny thing to hopefully tide people over. I do sort of intend to write more on this, but I have been stalled for a few months which means I need to change things up. So here is the first bit, hopefully you all like it!
You can also read it here on A03.
Synopsis: Enzo has an plan. Caroline has some serious doubts, because first all, werewolf, hot or not. Alpha, even. A political marriage to a man with his dimples seems like a terrible idea.
                                                            -
Caroline paused, chopsticks hovering over her container of fried rice. Across from her, Enzo looked relaxed, no real tension visible as he reached for another eggroll. “Excuse me?”
“Gorgeous…”
She narrowed her eyes at his placating tone. “I should have known your offer to pick up dinner two towns over was a bribe. You don’t even like Chinese food. You cannot be serious.”
Her witchy best friend would walk through fire for her, but perfect egg rolls an hour after they’d been picked up should have dinged as an obvious bribe. Though this was not nearly big enough. 
“Would I have made the drive if I wasn’t serious?” Enzo asked, sighing when her expression didn’t budge. “You know what I do. What I really do.”
Her gaze dropped to his wrist were a tattoo wound along the bones and tendons, the ink black and red, starkly visible against the olive of his skin. Usually he used the modern advances in makeup to hide what no magic could, because sometimes people were less understanding about this particular quirk of his magic than others. She’d never had a problem with it, but she was human and had no desire for his services. 
Caroline speared a piece of shrimp and narrowed her eyes in warning. “I am very aware of what you do with your magic when you aren’t perfecting fireballs and lightning strikes, Enzo. No need to be rude.”
“Care…”
She chewed carefully, giving herself a moment so she didn’t do something stupid like throw the food at him. The wood floors were brand new. “I’m human. No witchy bloodlines for ten generations or more, and definitely not a werewolf. São Paulo proved that. In spades. So, seriously, there is zero reason for your magic to like me for this.”
A faint grimace. São Paulo had not been a good time. Not for anyone. 
“You know it doesn’t always work like that,” he said patiently, dunking his egg roll repeatedly into the sweet and sour sauce, his expression wry. “Sometimes my magic has a mind of its own.”
She rolled her eyes. “Enzo, tell me something I don’t know.”
A small laugh escaped him. “True.”
“Have I ever done anything, absolutely anything, that would make you think I’d want to have a matchmaker stick their nosy magic in my life?” Caroline set her chopsticks down and started closing containers, her appetite gone. 
A sigh. “No.”
“Damn straight. Isn’t there some kind of ritual involved? Blood magic? The romance novels I read on this subject insisted consent was a factor and blood had to be given willingly, much to the displeasure of several southern mamas.”
He deliberately finished his eggroll, sauce-soggy rice paper and all, chewing methodically. “Normally. This isn’t a… usual situation.”
“Normally?” Sitting back, Caroline waved her hand. “The food buys you an explanation. So start talking.”
Enzo leaned back, chair creaking, and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Look, you’ve been in Europe the last, what? Six months?” 
“Eight, and should I be hurt you weren’t counting?”
He snorted. “You spent the last eight months chasing diamonds. Busy enough you even stopped answering texts in a timely manner, so I imagine you haven’t kept up with what’s been going on.”
“Excuse you? What text did I not respond to?”
“Emoji’s are not words, Caroline.”
Caroline pressed her chin to her palm, gaze narrowed. “Stop being old, Enzo. And let’s be clear. It’s not like I was chasing just any diamonds. These were expensive. The kind of expensive we peons can never actually afford to legally own.”
Enzo rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen your rate sheet. You do just fine.”
She grinned at him. “Thank you, I do very good work. But what does my previous job have to do with the completely ridiculous proposal you brought me?”
“Mason died.”
Caroline arched a brow. “Yeah, I saw. That was impossible to miss. International news, all those TV Pundits talking about who would take over as the US Alpha, blah blah politics. Since he had the bad taste to die outside of a challenge fight, I didn’t have time to worry about it.”
Enzo put the plastic lid back on the sweet and sour sauce, his expression unhappy. “That’s the problem. He did die in a challenge fight.”
“Huh?”
He sighed and pushed his chair back. “This is a bit of a complicated story. As nice as these chairs are, something a little more comfortable might not be adverse.”
“You’re not getting any of the beer in my fridge until I’m sure I’m not kicking you out.” She narrowed her eyes. “The odds are not in your favor.”
“Cruel, but I suppose well deserved.” His chin tipped towards his car, expression amused. “Is now a good time to mention the cheesecake in the trunk of my car?”
“Enzo!”
He laughed and sauntered into her living room, flopping his favorite squishy chair. Caroline picked the couch. She motioned for him to start talking, and he slouched a little further down.
“Look, a lot of this isn’t common knowledge, alright?” Enzo grimaced. “Though it should be and I’m not sure how much longer they are going to manage to keep a lid on how badly the Council screwed this up.”
“Cover up?”
“Among other problems.”
“Mason was their darling.” And, she knew, some factions had whispered, their pawn. She reached up and shoved her bangs back to hide her wince. “Losing a wolf so pro-witch would have been a blow. Losing the top Alpha who was also pro-witch is a political travesty.”
“Political travesty or not, Mason’s dead, and they’re going to have to deal with the new Alpha. He isn’t known for his tolerance.”
“Most werewolves are suspicious of magic,” Caroline pointed out, curling one leg underneath her. “Can’t really blame ‘em, with how they ended up as werewolves. Vengeance, magical curse. That sort of thing tends to sour peoples opinions, and then you know centuries later, they really improved things with their required silver legislation.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong, but that’s not the kind of tolerance I am talking about.” He leaned back against the chair, and lifted his foot towards the coffee table, pausing, gaze darting towards her narrowed eyes. His foot thumped back against the floor. “The short version is that Mason was challenged, he lost, and the Witch’s Council, for lack of better words, bungled the announcement.”
“How do you bungle an announcement? Challengers have official channels they have to go through and everything.” She pointed at the TV. “They’ve even started wanting to televise the damn things, like it’s some kind of wrestling bout and not a fight to the death.”
Enzo rubbed a hand down his face. “From everything that I’ve been able to tell, Mason just… didn’t expect to lose.”
“That makes no sense. Mason wasn’t young, even by werewolf standards,” Caroline said slowly. “There have been rumors in Europe that he should have been disposed of as much as a century ago. They aren’t really sure why the packs here haven't risen up against him, particularly after the whole issue with his nephew abducting his bride after she’d been paired by the matchmakers to someone else.”
“Tyler Lockwood leads more with his dick than his brains,” Enzo agreed. “And that should have weakened Mason politically, spurring a few challenges. That it didn’t…”
“It’s only been ten years, and that isn’t that long for a werewolf,” Caroline pointed out. “It’s reasonable that the family of the disappointed groom would just now be in a position themselves to pick a fight. Hayley’s family is old blood but not particularly powerful.”
Enzo gave her a dry look. “When do werewolves ever wait to pick fights?”
“When they are going up against the top Alpha in the US and need public opinion behind them. The general public expects a dominance fight or a natural cause of death for all alphas,” she said dryly. 
He nodded in approval. “For someone so disparaging of politics earlier, you do have an excellent grasp of the situation.”
Caroline tossed a cushion at him, which he caught with a grin. “Please, my Mom was the Sheriff and Dad, well, you know Dad. Conspiracy theories and hatred of anything that so much whiffed of the unnatural. But none of that explains what actually happened?”
“We think Mason was using magic to win his challenge fights.”
Her lips parted. “But that’s… the packs would riot. Because something like that…”
“It’s something the Witch Council had to be involved in.”
She inhaled sharply. “That would be a disaster.”
“It is a disaster,” Enzo said bitterly. “There have already been two executions, and several investigations are still pending. We’ve managed to convince the new alpha to hold back the public announcement, but he’s losing patience. We need a solid infrastructure of a plan in place, because humans don’t do well with surprises of this kind, and right now we’re barely holding the alliances together.”
“And what?” Caroline asked exasperated. “The remaining Council has decided to hire a matchmaker? They think since the new Alpha is single, they must be in want of a partner? You’re going to announce the change of leadership, the challenge fight, and then announce he agreed to be matchmade?”
“Something like that.”
“Who is going to trust the Council after something like this?” She shoved her hair away from her face. “If I was the Alpha, I wouldn’t touch anything that they touch with a ten foot pole. That includes matchmaking.”
“I wasn’t hired by the Council, though a couple of my… co-workers have taken those contracts.” He seemed to consider his words and then shrugged. “I was hired by Bekah.”
“Rebekah Mikaelson?” She said, brows arching high. “Why is she involved in this? And I thought you two didn't get along. The last time you were in the same room, she lit your precious robes on fire.”
Enzo’s mouth curved into a slow smile full of male satisfaction. “She’s an odd one, but it’s not the worst way I’ve had someone flirt with me.”
“And the time she declared matchmaking the worst magical school in existence and she hoped you did the world a favor and never reproduced?”
“Charming, isn’t she? I don’t think she really likes children in general.” He looked unbothered. “The bit about my magic was just an attempt to be clever. Her insults have gotten better the more she gets to know me. I appreciate her dedication to getting my attention.”
“Yes, and that is what I am going to put on your gravestone. You finally got the attention you always wanted.” Caroline shook her head. “Insults and spells aside, why did she hire you?”
“Because the Witch Council is right, in a way. It’s going to come out that Mason lost a challenge fight and the witches tried to cover it up.” Enzo reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “A werewolf who is newly matched has more appeal than a single one, and it’s not a terrible way to divert the press.”
“Is he worried about appeal? Why are you worried about his appeal?” She threw up her hands. “He killed Mason. He is now unequivocally in charge. Why does appeal matter?”
“We need stability.” Enzo’s face went grave. “We can’t afford a year of dominance fights when we’re already struggling with sorting through Mason’s people for traitors. Announcing a match buys us time.”
Caroline froze. “You want the year truce.”
“We need that year, Gorgeous. I’m not sure we’ll survive without it. Pairing off the new alpha? It’s the only way we’re going to get it.”
“And you want me to marry him? Why?”
“Why not you? You’re smart, resourceful, and not bad on the eyes. That you're from a small town will add to your appeal. Small town girl meets werewolf Alpha, and it’s a match. People will love you.”
“I’m a Finder, Enzo. That’s not exactly the most politically correct of jobs.” Her gaze narrowed. “Am I even going to be able to keep working if I agree to this?”
“Once things stabilize, sure, why not?”
“You’re really selling this.”
Enzo shrugged. “You know that one of the true weaknesses of Mason’s was that he refused to find a mate or even attempt a match.”
There had seemingly been a good reason for that. Werewolves were blessed with supernatural strength, a lifespan that more than tripled a normal human’s, and were highly territorial. Most of the time, those instincts could be driven towards their pack and maintaining the careful balance that the world existed in. A werewolf in love was a dangerous creature. Werewolves fighting over their lovers more so.
It was why Enzo’s magic existed. 
“Uh huh,” Caroline drawled, unconvinced. “You're really going to tell an Alpha he can’t claim what’s his unless he agrees to a match, the very thing the last alpha decried as unnecessary. How’s that going? I bet not well.”
“The sooner you say yes, the better, then.”
She glowered at him, but he looked unrepentant.
“Seriously Enzo, matchmaking magic or not, this cannot be your best plan. I cannot be the absolute best idea you have for this.”
“Why not?” He leaned back. “From where I’m sitting, it’s a fantastic plan.”
Caroline’s jaw dropped and she stared at him. He was serious. She knew that set of his jaw, the glint behind his eyes. Matchmaking wasn’t a science, it was magic. A fail safe, a terrible and beautiful promise: that somewhere out there, somewhere, maybe, a soulmate existed. And if you were lucky enough, maybe magic would find them for you.
“Enzo, seriously this time. Why even ask me? You know I’ve never been interested in matchmaking with a werewolf or witch. I like my life.” She spread her arms to include the house. “What you're asking me to do, asking of me, it changes everything. Why?”
He was quiet for several moments, his gaze unfocused. When he spoke, his voice was strangely serious. “My magic likes the match.”
She considered that, shifting to hug her knees to her chest. She’d been friends with Enzo since she was seventeen years old and she’d dragged his half unconscious body out of a car wreck that should have killed him. In turn, he’d been there for her when her mom died and her dad disappeared. He’d helped her get established in her career of choice, even though he’d been disapproving of the reasons why she’d chosen to go into it. 
She trusted him. 
Enzo liked to hide what he could do because he was so good at what he did, and she’d seen him drunk more than once post-match. His magic was not… unkind, but it wasn’t easy, what it demanded of him. To put two people together, with the intention that they’d make a relationship work for possibly hundreds of years. The weight of success and the pain of failure were both so heavy. 
Enzo did not match lightly. 
His magic liked the match. 
Her stomach flipped as she really considered what that meant. No such thing as soul mates, Enzo always insisted, just the endless probabilities of human lives narrowed to a single red thread between two people. And here, he said, was her chance to see if this probability would work for her. 
She couldn’t decide what that made her feel.
“You swear this isn’t about Dad?”
A tip of his head. “While I have no compunction about putting a few hundred werewolves between you and whatever mess he left behind, it’s not about him. You were right. My magic should never have considered you for this. You’ve never wanted to find a match, and honestly, I’ve always liked that about you. And nothing about this is going to be easy. But when Rebekah brought me his blood, all my magic could see was you and the potential you two had together. I could no more deny you the chance to say yes than breathe.”
She groaned under her breath. “This could be a disaster. You know I hate politics, and I’m an only child. I’m terrible at sharing. He’s alpha. Nothing he does is his alone.”
“I know. The circumstances are unusual, so they’ve been willing to negotiate generous terms if things don’t work.” Enzo grinned. “No one wants to trap either of you, not when all parties know that magic isn’t infallible.”
She eyed him. “I don’t like it when you think you’ve got it all figured out.”
A laugh. “Come with me to New York. Give it two years. A year for the truce, a year to fortify whatever weaknesses his enemies attempt to manipulate. At the end, if you want out, no one will stop you. I’ll dissolve the marriage myself. No loopholes.”
Enzo never dissolved marriages. That, more than anything, told her how serious he was about giving her an out. How badly they needed to truce. 
“I guess you really do have this all figured out.” 
“I wish I did, but we both know that’s impossible with something like this. I can only read the magic, and tell you what I see. But I’ll do everything I can to help you.” He smiled ruefully. “We’ve gotten good at hiding bodies, what’s a few more?”
Caroline wasn’t sure she should have found that comforting, but she did. “And just who am I agreeing to consider marrying?”
Enzo suddenly coughed and stood, a familiar hint of devilment twisting his lips. “Klaus Mikaelson.”
She spluttered. “Klaus Mikaelson? You want me to marry Klaus? He killed Mason?”
His smile widened. “Yes.”
Caroline gawked at him. Before she’d gone to Europe, Klaus Mikaelson had been the third most powerful Alpha. Young, handsome, devastatingly charming, he made people forget just how terrifying he could be with a pair of dimples that raised the blood pressure of every woman past puberty. 
He was also Rebekah Mikaelson’s half brother. 
Enzo had been entertaining her for years about the Mikaelson sibling dynamic. Klaus had not been spared in those stories, and while she’d never met him, she knew two very important things: he was built on lines that had always, always snagged her attention, and the sharp temper of his wolf, the brutality of his temper, hid a clever, agile mind that made him dangerous to underestimate.
“Enzo!” She protested. “Klaus?”
Sliding his hands in his pockets, he spun towards her door. “Yup.”
“Just where do you think you are going?”
Enzo tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “To get your cheesecake. You didn’t think I lied about that, did you? And you might as well fetch me that beer. We both know I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow, at the earliest.”
Caroline stared at his back as the door clanged behind him, heart hammering in her throat for a hundred reasons she couldn’t explain.
33 notes · View notes
toadwarts · 3 years ago
Text
Special Delivery
Companion piece to Safe At Last.
After two humans escaped from an abusive home and found a new home working alongside Duke, they have begun settling into their new lives as merchants and their polyamorous romance with The Duke. Our primary character (aka the Reader) is struggling with the way he is perceived by the villagers, but is pleasantly surprised when The Duke returns with a special gift... Just the thing to help him feel better.
Fluffy hurt/comfort poly oneshot written in first person but made so that you can insert yourself if wanted. This story centers on a transmasculine protagonist!
Read on A03 or Fanfiction.net!
I sat in the back of the Duke’s caravan, lonely and bored. Both the Duke and my primary partner had been out for hours, making deliveries around the village and to the factory. I had stayed behind to look after the caravan and make sales to anyone who might approach--not to mention I wasn’t terribly keen on meeting any of the four lords yet. It had been months since we began staying with the massive enigma of a man, and only a few days less of that time since we had become a delightful little polycule. 
Life in the village hadn’t been easy--there were a lot of mysterious dangers, and you had to be cunning with both your words and weapons. Even still, it was as if The Duke commanded respect of all who lived within the confines of this little world, and so the three of us were safe/ When asked, The Duke would simply flash an award winning smile and say, “I suppose it’s one of the perks of having world class customer service!”
Still, The Duke being so...enigmatic could be exhausting, and perhaps a little bit annoying at times. But he was a good friend and even better lover, and always made sure that we were cared for. If he wanted to keep his secrets, I suppose it was his business. One day, after building up plenty of trust...perhaps we would be privy to them. After all, we had our own secrets too.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” 
I startled at the sudden noise, hopping up to my feet. No one had approached the caravan all day, but I needed to make sure my customer service was perfect, else The Duke would be most displeased!
“Hello,” I said, my voice chipper. “How can I help you out today?” The customers seemed to be a couple--a thin man and woman, dressed all in black with their hats pulled low on the crowns of their heads. Their hands were intertwined, both of them shivering in the cold. 
“We were looking for meat. Sausage, if you have it. And a few nails so we can fix our fence.” The man said, fidgeting with his jacket. 
“Of course! Anything to help out a loyal customer. Just let me go and grab them from the back.” I said cheerfully, forcing a big smile. I wasn’t prone to very much facial expression myself, but trying to mimic The Duke definitely helped. It was almost like putting on a costume.
I traversed back into the caravan, rooting around for what was needed. I kept my ears perked to listen to the customers as I unraveled a rope of thick sausages, placing them gently into a pristine paper bag. 
“I wonder where that girl came from. The boy too.” The woman said. “The Duke has seemed to take quite a shining to the two of ‘em, and it looks like The Lords don’t mind them too much either. Surprised Dimitrescu hasn’t taken that maiden for herself.” 
I felt ice shoot through my bloodstream. The girl. The boy too. A sour feeling entered my mouth. My partner didn’t go by any gender, and me… Well, it seems that my binder didn’t work well enough today. Really, I suppose it was my voice that gave me away. I had always felt disconnected from its lilting, high pitch. I hunched my shoulders and huffed, finishing packaging their order. It couldn’t be helped. A lot of people couldn’t understand.
I approached the front of the caravan, wanting this transaction to be over as soon as possible. “Here you go.” I said, doing my best to open up the back of my throat and make my voice sound deeper. Foolish and a waste of time, I’m sure. “Everything is packed up now. I hope that you find it all to be of the highest quality. If you have any qualms, please come back to see us.” 
“Thank you ma’am.” The woman said as her husband dug around in his pockets for the appropriate amount of lei. “Such a sweet young girl. Where did you come from, dear?” 
My stomach twisted, and I did my best to keep the discomfort out of my voice. “Um… Further away. I left home, and stumbled across the village while looking for somewhere to camp.” I didn’t see the point in correcting them and starting up a whole new conversation that they likely wouldn’t or couldn’t want to understand. 
“How unfortunate. We’ve been having a lot of problems lately, miss.” The man said, counting up his lei. 
Tch. Did they have to keep gendering literally everything they say?! Geez.
“Like werewolves?” I couldn’t help but smirk a little. “Well, it’s definitely a step up from where I came.” 
“I suppose so. Especially with special treatment from the merchant.” The man sniffed, flinching when his wife elbowed him. 
“I’m sorry about that. He didn’t get enough sleep last night,” The woman apologized, handing me the lei. 
I nodded, smile tight and strained. “No problem! I do hope you get to feeling better.” I handed them their items and swallowed hard. “Have a wonderful rest of your day and good luck fixing your fence!!” 
They waved me off, and I slunk back into the caravan. I knew the village definitely had a few gossips, but I hadn’t imagined it would be so annoying. I had already heard some adolescents talking about how funny it was to see a woman with such short hair and a flat chest, chattering about my partner and I… I’d argue that the most dangerous thing in this village wasn’t the werewolves, but perhaps the strain on the villagers that had them biting at each other’s ankles… Or mine, at least. Maybe they’d eventually warm up to me like they did The Duke though. Even my partner was having an easier time settling in to it all. 
I guess I just felt out of place. The only time I did feel right was when I was curled into The Duke’s soft side, my hand entwined with my primary partner’s across his ample belly, their soft breaths lulling me into a comfortable slumber. 
My ears perked as the door to the back of the caravan opened. My primary partner stood there with a broad grin, eyes shining. “Hey there, dear!” They said happily. “We have a surprise for you. Well, Duke does, I’m just happy and along for the ride!” 
I cocked my head. A gift was certainly something to perk up the mood--and The Duke was certainly top tier at finding the perfect gifts… Who knows what he may have brought?
Speaking of The Duke, he leaned on his cane as he squeezed into the wagon. “Hello, my dear boy!” He said happily. His words sent flutters of delight through my stomach, making me smile. “I’ve got a bit of a gift for you. Something you’ve mentioned a few times. I hope you might like it!” 
I stepped forward, eyes glinting curiously. The Duke turned a bit, shutting the door to the wagon behind him. When he turned, a small black box was in his hands, seemingly procured from thin air. Without skipping a beat I came closer, feeling my cheeks pinken with shyness. “What is it?” 
“Well, you’ll have to open it to find out, won’t you?” The Duke smiled broadly, holding the box out. 
I took the box from his hands as he sat down, my partner bouncing with giddiness. I carefully unfolded the top, seeing that whatever was inside was wrapped in deep red satin, the color of blood. Fitting, for the village. Gingerly, I pulled the satin back, curiosity thrumming through my fingers. 
I gasped. 
A little vial, full of clear liquid, and a set of alcohol swabs, syringes, and band-aids. 
It couldn’t be. 
“Is… Is this…?” The words were so small in my throat, barely breaking out of my mouth. 
“It is.” The Duke nodded, clasping his hands together and smiling softly. “Testosterone.” 
Tears sprung to my eyes, a laugh emerging unbidden from me. Ever since I had come out, I had wanted to transition--but I had never had the opportunity in my old abusive home, and I imagined somewhere out here would never hold the chance either. I had dreamed of the changes for so long--a deeper voice, bottom growth, body hair, facial hair… Hell, even building more muscle easier so I could achieve the musclechub look I had always been enamored by! 
“How did you do it?” I choked out, pressing the back of my hand against my watery eyes. My primary partner was at my side, arm around my shoulders. They planted a kiss on my head, holding me tight. 
“Why, I can procure any goods I need!” The Duke laughed heartily. “It is only a matter of time before an item is in my hands. And now it’s yours, free of charge.” 
I sniffled. “Duke… I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. This is my greatest dream. Thank you. Thank you so much!” I handed the box to my primary partner and ran to him, throwing my arms out. He leaned forward, hulking arms wrapping into me and pulling me into him. “Thank you!” 
“Of course, my dear! Anything for you.” He planted a gentle kiss on my forehead as he pulled me up to his chest. “And I know from our conversations about hormone replacement therapy before that you had concerns about vaginal atrophy and hair loss. Remedies for those are on the way as well!” 
“You are amazing.” I said breathlessly. After all the abuse my primary partner and I had endured over the years, I never could have imagined that we would have ended up in a place so terrifying and yet...so safe. So like home. A place where dreams could come true. 
“Well thank you, my dear. The customer is always right!” He said cheekily. 
My primary partner approached, holding the box as if it were the most prized thing in the entire world. “My good sir,” They said with a flourish. “I believe it is time for your first injection of boy juice!” 
“Boy juice.” I repeated. “Wow.” Then took a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s do it.” 
“Let me administer the first shot for you, to show you how it’s done.” The Duke said, lowering me into the seat next to him. 
I nodded, suddenly feeling my palms get sweaty. “Yes. That sounds nice. I’m a little scared of the needle.” I laughed nervously. “Hey hon...you think you could hold my hand?” 
My primary partner nodded, fingers intertwining with mine. “I’ll be right here.” 
The Duke took the box, balancing it on top of his belly. Carefully, he loaded up the syringe with the testosterone, making sure to get the air bubbles up and load the approximate dose. “Now now, my boy, the friend I got this from let me know that this is a subcutaneous injection, and we’ll be starting off with a lower dose to start, and then you can choose if you want to go lower or higher from there. If we can get a bit of your blood later, I’ll have another friend of mine run tests on it to make sure it’s safe.”
“Wow, you really can do anything and everything…” I smiled, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re incredible, Duke.” I lowered my pants, revealing the skin on my thigh.
“Perhaps so, but you must know that you are just as wonderful. It is a pleasure to get to share my life with such a wonderful man.” The Duke said pleasantly, swabbing some skin on my thigh. “Truth be told, I had grown a bit lonely myself. Having you two as companions and then something more… Well, I have to say it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” He sighed. “Ah, to love and be loved. One of life’s greatest joys, right next to lei.” 
My primary partner grinned. “Always with the lei.” 
“I’m a man who knows what he wants in life!” The Duke tapped the syringe with one finger. “Now, are you ready?” 
I looked to my primary partner, feeling as if some holy light was glowing behind my eyes. Starting now, I would be transitioning. I would be something new, something self made. I would be myself. They squeezed my hand, nodding encouragingly. “You got this.” 
I took a deep breath. “Alright, Duke. I’m ready.” 
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lachesis-games · 3 years ago
Text
Trouvaille Short Story
m!Trouvaille
tw: swearing, mild violence
~
This trip started out very simple. Go into the forest, gather spell ingredients, then get out. Getting dragged underwater by a sticky horse was not part of the plan.
While the others were searching for normal herbs like tarragon, nutmeg, or wormwood, you and Antigone waded knee deep in a wide pond. Morning sunlight streamed through the trees, casting an ethereal glow on the water’s surface.
“Remind me again what you need curly pondweed for?” you call out to her.
The witch doesn’t look up from her task when answering, “They promote growth in spells. And encourage perseverance.”
The plant itself was plentiful. Too plentiful, as she told you earlier that it was an invasive species. But every time you thought you found a good stem, Antigone waved you off, stating that your pick was too dark or too old or too tough.
You straighten up and stretch out your aching back. Tedium aside, the forest was beautiful in the morning. Red dragonflies skimmed the surface, creating ripples that jostled the aquatic flora. The natural song of chirping crickets and croaking frogs sounded throughout the clearing. At the water’s edge, a few meters to your right, you can see a dark figure among the cattails. It’s wide, but short, and moving slightly.
When you get closer, you can make out the creature’s long gray mane and thick black body. There are mossy spots and algae strewn across its body. It looks like it lives near the pond, but something about it seemed out of place in the tranquil forest.
“Um, Antigone?” you try to keep your voice down.
“What?”
“Are there supposed to be ponies in the forest?” You take your eyes off the animal to glance at her over your shoulder.
Her head snaps up and she drops the flat woven basket she’d been holding.
“Shit!”
Before either of you can react, the pony whinnies, rears up, and charges you. You’re too slow to dodge and it rams into you. Instead of sending you flying, you find yourself stuck to its flank as it dives deeper into the pond.
The pond is much deeper than expected and every few feet, the water gets colder and darker. Light brown sediment billows up as the probably-not-actually-a-pony settles into the bottom. 
The surprise attack, along with your wildly thumping heart means you’re losing air fast and the creature doesn’t seem like it’ll surface any time soon. Your elbow is fastened tight to the creature’s side. If you can just get to your dagger!
You open your eyes and regret it. The sting of the dirty water only hinders you more. You can’t see anything more than two feet in front of you clearly.
Panic sets in and you thrash and kick, desperately trying to separate from the creature. Its skin’s adhesive surface clings onto you. The harder you thrash, the more you pull at your own skin and clothes.
They say to be completely calm if you’re ever being held underwater, but the proverbial “they” are stupid and clearly have never been drowned before.
Black spots dance across your vision. Your lungs burn and your head starts to ache. Great. The artifact wouldn’t kill you. Nor would vampires or werewolves or any other badass way to die. No, you’re a lucky one. You get to die via drowning, stuck to this thing like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
The pony flinches and so do you. It kicks up sediment in its panic. You get tossed around along with it until you feel a small hand on your shoulder. Sharp claws dig into you as it drags you away from the pony.
You can finally make out Antigone’s silhouette as she pulls you close. She presses her lips to yours. Air fills your lungs. Your vision and headache settle, and the burning sensation in your lungs subsides.
A blast of light breaks through your clenched eyelids. Her mouth is on yours again, breathing life into you. For some reason, though, she doesn’t do anything else. Just sits there and keeps breathing into you whenever your lungs start to burn again.
There’s a heavy splash above you. The cold sediment kicks up again and tiny bubbles pepper your face.
Someone hooks their arms under your armpits and the next thing you know, you’re being dragged up the bank of the pond.
Head spinning, you cough up what feels like gallons of water. In your delirium, you think you hear your name.
“There you are!” a familiar voice cries.
You rub your eyes and look up.
T.V. takes a step towards you, then stops. You want to tell him you’re alright, but Jackie grabs you in a bone-crushing hug.
Her clothes are soaking wet.
“We saw the basket floating in the pond! What the hell happened!?”
You hack more water and algae out of your lungs.
“Water pony,” you wheeze out.
“Huh?”
“Kelpie,” Antigone says through violent coughs. Despite her having been the one to save you, she seems much worse for wear. Dakota white-knuckles her hand.
“Kelpies are shapeshifters.” He pants, also soaking wet. T.V. is the only one bone dry. “They take the form of a pony or horse and drown people for fun,” he explains. “What happened?”
You take a deep breath, “It dragged me down underwater. Antigone came to save me.”
Dakota’s eyes widen as he grabs the witch by the shoulders.
“You did what? Are you high?” he demands.
“Wait, hang on!” Jackie interjects. “What’s the problem here? She kept them both alive until we got there!”
Dakota crosses his arms. “The problem here is that Annie can’t--!”
Antigone cuts him off. “What was I supposed to do? Let the kid drown?” she rasps and shrugs off her knit sweater.
“Of course not! I just--” Groaning, he buries his face into her neck. Antigone allows the touch and strokes his hair gently. Her tired gaze flickers over to you. Jackie’s concerned voice steals your attention.
“Let’s get you back to the shop,” she says, holding a hand out to you.
You clasp her hand and the two of you pull in tandem. The moment you put weight on your feet, searing pain shoots up your leg.
The ground rushes up to meet you, then stops when a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle.
As soon as their fingertips make contact, your head erupts in a pain like someone took an axe to it. There’s a ringing in your ears and you cry out.
Whoever’s holding you lets go and you hit the mud, writhing in agony.
“I— I’m so sorry!” T.V. manages through his groans of pain, hands clenched tightly to the sides of his head.
It feels like your skull is full of liquid metal. The cool water of the pond is tempting all of a sudden, kelpie and all.
Antigone presses a cool hand to your forehead and whispers something in a language you can’t understand.
Your head is still heavy, but the white hot pain ebbs.
She crawls over to Trouvaille to give him the same treatment. His agony seems to decrease faster than yours.
Through your delirium, you hear her snap at him, “That was unbelievably stupid!”
“I know,” he replies, rubbing his temples.
“You know? Mistakes like that can be fatal. Do not let your bleeding heart be the reason you both die.” 
Carefully avoiding her eyes, he says, “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t talk to him like that!” you protest through the pain.
“Shut up,” she snaps. “I don’t need one idiot defending another idiot.”
Jackie crosses her arms, “Very original with the insults.”
“I’m just calling them as they are. If they feel insulted, that’s on them.”
You clench your teeth, “He said he was sorry!”
“Sorry won’t bring back the dead,” she says directly at Trouvaille. Rounding on you, she says, “Let me take a look at that ankle.”
Your left ankle is inflamed and is taking on an angry red color. It must have happened when the kelpie hit you. The throbbing pain only grows as the adrenaline flushes from your veins.
She pokes an especially puffy part.
“Ow, fuck!” you cry out, hands grabbing onto your injured leg. “Why would you touch it!?”
“Punishment for being too slow to dodge the thing,” she deadpans.
“You think getting nearly drowned wasn’t enough punishment?”
“No.”
Thankfully, the poking ceases. A purple light emits from her clawed hand. She hovers over your ankle.
“Well, that is going to need a splint.” She retracts her hand.
“You can mend ribs but you can’t unsprain an ankle?” Jackie demands.
“For one thing, ‘unsprain’ is not a word. Second, normal treatment would take weeks. I can make it a few days. Any other grievances, hotshot?”
“Maybe if you were paying attention, oh powerful witch, you could have done something before it got this bad!” she shoots back.
The witch’s mercury eyes narrow. “You want to blame me for this?”
“I do. What are you gonna do about it?” Jackie takes a step forward.
“Don’t pick fights you can’t win, you little--” Antigone begins.
Dakota nudges her.
“We should head back.” They share a tense look, but she ultimately backs down. Then he turns to you, “Can I carry you?”
You nod in agreement. He places his hands under your knees and behind your back, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.
As he stands up, he takes on a comically cheerful tone. “Thank you flying Dakota Airlines! Please fasten your seatbelts and keep all electronics stored away until we reach cruising altitude.”
“Does this flight have snacks?” you jokingly ask.
“Check my pocket!”
You reach down into his kangaroo pouch and pull out a waterlogged 4 pak of Nutter Butters.
You raise an eyebrow. “You just carry these around?”
He shrugs. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re 25.”
“Okay? And?”
You chuckle. On the trek back to the car, you look over his shoulder to see sunlight glimmering off of caramel hair. Trouvaille strolls several feet behind you. He gives you a weak smile but makes no attempt to get any closer.
Reaching out for him, you beckon him closer. Not to touch, but you don’t like the wide berth he gives you.
He shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he mouths.
‘Don’t be.’
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead of coming to you, he speeds up to catch up to Jackie.
The few seconds that he’s near when he passes by makes your hair stand on end. You almost reach out to stop him. You don’t. You can’t. Dakota readjusts you in his arms. After making sure everyone’s out of earshot he finds your gaze.
“Try not to be too mad at Annie. She just wants to keep all of us safe,” he says.
You briefly wondered if he swallowed too much pond water.
“You make it sound like she cares,” you grumble.
“She does. She really does. You know how if you don’t socialize dogs at a young age, they have trouble with other dogs later on? She’s like that.”
Raising an eyebrow, you reply, “Would she be mad at you comparing her to a dog?”
“Not if you don’t tell her.”
You chuckle and look ahead to see the three of them walking side by side. Trouvaille turn his head slightly. For a moment, you lock eyes before he pointedly turns back around. Your heart reaches out for someone who won’t reach back.
“Hey,” Dakota recaptures your attention. “Sometimes the people we care about decide for themselves that we’re better off without them. Those people are amazingly stubborn, but we love them anyway. Probably because we like pain, but whatever.” Up ahead, Jackie jokes around with T.V. while Antigone keeps her distance off to the side. “I just...” you sigh. “I don’t know what I think. I tell him I’m fine and I’m not afraid to get hurt, but he still pushes me away.” “I think that half of it is protecting himself. You may not be afraid of getting hurt, but he might be. Give him space, but let him know he can come to you.” “Easier said than done.”
Dakota shrugs. “Just know that these things take time. And patience. So much patience.” You glance back and forth between him and the group ahead. 
“Why do you sound like you speak from experience?”
He grimaces, “If I said I don’t know what you’re taking about, would you believe me?”
“No.”
“Fair enough.”
Your gaze drifts between the trio in front of you.
“You can’t possibly--”
He cuts you off, “Wow, wouldya look at that! We’re at the car! Everyone please place your tray tables in the up position while we begin our descent!”
Trouvaille and Antigone are locked in a tense conversation. They stop to watch your approach until the witch mutters something and relinquishes her claim to the passenger seat. T.V. slides into the car without sparing you a glance.
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prose-for-hire · 4 years ago
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Life bites
Pairing: Oz x fem!werewolf!reader
Request: Oz? YES PLEASE! how about agirl who's also a werewolf, but sdhe hates her condition and is always shying away from others, that is until our sweet guy finds out and does all he can to help help and... feelings involved ;)
Requested by: Anon
Warning: Discussion and feelings of shame/guilt. Being a werewolf is described as being traumatic for the reader.
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You hated the moon. Despised it. Cursed and swore blindly at it whenever you had the chance, or the ability to speak as it rose.
You were a werewolf. Not by choice. Although, you would be hard pressed to find someone who had become a werewolf by choice. You had been bitten one evening, you had been out later than your curfew. 
You blamed yourself for being out so late. For looking biteable and easy to take on without a fight. You were devastated when you realised. 
When you kept waking up in strange places, your mind spinning with part memories. Snapshots of horrific mutilation and blood. God, there was so much blood. Thick and rusted into your matted fur. Now, in your hair once you returned to your human form.
You were sick of taking showers with the water running red. Having to see it again made you have to relive the carnal massacre your demon side would partake in. Your whole body had wracked with sobs, masked by the shower.
Your family hadn’t understood. Had said your personality had almost changed overnight. That you were so angry and they didn’t understand why. So emotional and insular. You couldn’t dare tell them.
They couldn’t know, couldn’t be subjected to the danger. To the misery that had taken up residence in your chest. So you left home, trying to protect them. Drew into yourself. Trying to hide the shame that you felt. The shame that came along with your identity.
You had isolated yourself, moved to a new place. Sunnydale, it was called. There was a pull in your gut, you had been driving aimlessly and you just knew in your mind, body and soul that you needed to go there. To this town. For whatever reason.
You didn’t usually believe in fate, but you hadn’t believed in werewolves until two months ago so who were you to disbelieve?
You had lost your friends, unable to make new ones. You were more reserved around people, worried that your condition would get worse and become permanent. That you could hurt people. Infect them just by meeting their eyes as they spoke.
You folded in on yourself further, trying to be really small. Not taking up much space in public. You wanted to hide under the radar. You wanted, more than anything, not to be a threat to these innocent people.
You barely left your house, barricading the doors and windows before every full moon. You didn’t know how else to protect the population from yourself. It wasn’t completely effective. Sometimes you woke up in fields again, having broken out of the barricades.
You always woke up to your house having been trashed beyond repair. You had used to clear and replace everything but after the fourth month you had just left it. You still had a bed and a working sofa, so you decided you would be okay. You preferred hurting inanimate objects than living beings. The library fines were worth it, you decided.
You found yourself praying, calling out to every known deity. Trying to bargain with them. Assure that people wouldn’t have to suffer at your hand. You did this every day now.
You had started to frequent a library. It had an occult section. There was quite a large amount on werewolves. You were trying to figure out a way to stop it. A way to understand your condition. To manage it the best that you could.
You usually took all of your books and headed home pretty quickly. And this was what you were doing as you cut across the parking lot to get to your car.
What you didn’t see, as you had been watching your feet as you hurried across the tarmac was a guy. A cute guy at that.
You bumped into him and dropped one of the books you had been clutching to your chest. He had seen you around but you never stuck around long enough for him to strike up a conversation.
“Sorry, here” He picked it up and offered the book, before scanning his eyes across the front of the copy he was handing back. He half smiled at the irony. Werewolves.
“Oh, th-thank you” You stuttered, not accustomed to doing more than speaking to shop clerks when you had no other way out of it.
“Any good?” He asked, gesturing at the book.
“Haven’t read it” You mumbled, before becoming more and more evidently embarrassed. Oz stared, trying to figure something out. He opened his mouth as if to say something but you just nodded your thanks again and awkwardly shuffled to your car.
He watched you speed out of the parking lot, thinking a moment. Before shaking his head and carrying on to the record store that was next to the library. He couldn’t stop thinking about you though. Your demeanour. Your nervousness. He sensed something in you. And now, he couldn’t stop himself from worrying about you, despite not even knowing you.
He asked around, describing you but nobody recognised you. He frowned but he couldn’t forget your startled face. He had identified something in you, a similarity. Or something that spoke to him anyway.
All he knew was that he was supposed to talk to you. But he had more pressing issues himself as the full moon loomed. He had to prepare for his own transformation.
However you did bump into each other again, only this time as werewolves. Both of you had somehow managed to escape from your confines. As if it wasn’t only the moon calling that night. It was the promise of the other. Of that spark you had felt but pushed down when you met him the first time.
The night was fraught, you only had flashes of snarling and horror. Of blood and rage. Of a guiltless carnage that waited for you to awaken in your human form.
The one thing that he could cling to, the only glint of hope in an otherwise dreaded destiny was those eyes. When he woke up, he remembered them. They were the same eyes you had glanced in briefly when you bumped into each other in the parking lot.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you until he found you again. He had waited. Knowing you would probably be bringing your books back. And he was right, he saw you walking towards the library.
You had returned with only one of the several books you had left with and it was half torn up. Deep claw marks meaning that the library was never a free service to you. He knew, his hunch was right. Those eyes, he couldn’t pull his own away.
It had been troubling him, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. His heart ached for you, he saw how lost you looked. The panic in your eye when anybody came close to you.
“Hey, y/n, right?” He asked but you were trying to rush past him.
“I can’t stay”
“I thought maybe we could hang, there’s a great record store down by-” Oz wanted to speak to you, try to offer a hand. Some support. He had needed it when it was new to him.
“Really, that’s kind, but you don’t understand-” You stopped
“I understand more than you think” He tried to hint, looking at the ground before looking back into your eyes.
“You couldn’t possibly-”
“Full moon. The deer in the cemetery” He barely spoke above a whisper, he never really said much about his own feelings. His own guilt. Especially not to strangers. But he saw the way the shame bit so deep. The way that the only thought that replayed on your mind was horror. And pain.
The animalistic part of you scared you. You were lost. But the man in front of you, though appearing cool and disaffected on the surface – you could almost see into his soul. Through those eyes that shone, you saw him. You really saw him, the same wolf you had met the night prior. The meal you had shared before you ran through the streets. Leaving destruction in your wake.
You nodded. Unable to verbally confirm what you both knew. His words made you choke on a sob. Your hands moving to your face, your shoulders wracked with emotion. Tears welling and then streaming.
A hand slid along your back, soothing you despite him knowing you didn’t feel you deserved it. He saw the good in you. The way you kept going despite the weight around your neck. The heavy burden of guilt upon your back. You carried it around with you everywhere. It weighed you down. The only colour in your otherwise black and white world was red.
“Trust me” he murmured. But you could see that he was being sensitive to you, to the way he knew so intimately that you must be feeling. You nodded, a decision you would thank yourself for down the line.
He brought you back to his place. His tone was soothing and level despite what you were both discussing. You found yourself missing his touch from that slight touch of comfort you had received earlier. It was the most contact you had in such a long time.
When you were in his home, he spoke to you, explaining ways to cope. About letting people support you which was something he had always struggled with. He even mentioned things that he had researched and found out himself. About shutting yourself away, which you explained you already did at the expense of your entire house.
He saw you, truly saw you. In a way nobody ever had before. You were more human to him than anyone he had met and you sensed this from him. Together, to the onlooker you could just be a guy and a girl talking. Hanging out without a care in the world.
He shook his head at your admittance, concerned for you. For how wherever you looked in your home you must see the destructive part of your nature. Viewing yourself as a monster before a woman. He could almost feel your emotions as his own. You shakily shared experiences, ones you hadn’t dared to say out loud before. Spoke about other things, less serious.
You weren’t used to company, let alone speaking to people anymore. So that day you had been extremely emotional. Your voice dwindled into a hoarse whisper. But he knew about being quiet. Not having the words. He had been this way. Now he had grown to not mind what people thought.
You met him almost every week after this. Finally beginning to let someone in. You slowly got to know each other. In this time, his feelings for you blossomed. He even began to give you guitar lessons. Writing thoughts and lyrics together. He was giving you a way to express how you felt. You tried your best at it, it was very hard to verbalise how you felt. Which Oz got completely. As time went on, you mostly found yourself slowly looking forwards to this time spent with him.
One evening Oz called you out of the blue. He asked to meet you somewhere and you found yourself feeling something. That he wanted to spend more time with you. You couldn’t place it. But it was as if the pressure that you were so accustomed to was slowly dissipating.
You arrived and Oz showed you into the deserted room. It was a cage. Oz explained that him and his friend Xander had made it. Or, Xander had made it and Oz had claimed that he distanced himself creatively. In case you didn’t like it. It was sturdy and it matched his. So that you could be safe as well as everyone else in Sunnydale.
Your reaction was emotional. Of course you were grateful. This meant something to you. Oz was doing everything he could to tighten his grip on you. To pull you up from drowning in the guilt he was all too familiar with. You ran at him and hugged him. Tears shining in your eyes. You both almost overbalanced at the enthusiasm. He hadn’t expected this. You weren’t even sure where it had come from.
The first glimpse of something akin to hope. That you could carry on. That you could make sure no harm was inflicted by your hand. Or, sizeable canines.
You realised what you had done and pulled away. His complexion was tinged pink but he had embraced you with open arms. Neither of you said anything, but you both laughed a little under your breath. Smiling at the other.
You had never been this visibly happy. Your smile made your face light up. He wanted to see you smile much more often. He was about to tell you this, but Xander skidded in with an enthusiastic description of all the features the cage included. Oz went quiet and you both nodded along as Xander’s voice got more animated.
After a few months, you both agreed to wait out the full moon together. You were spending most of your free time together, discussing your thoughts. Emotions. Just sitting together comfortably. So, it made sense for this to be the next step in your relationship. Your cages were moved into the same abandoned warehouse space together. Sunnydale was full of spooky derelict buildings and people knew not to just wander into the one you had chosen.
You were monitored by his friends who were really very accepting of you. It was nice, being introduced to people that didn’t hate you for what you had gone through. People who would empathise and attempt to understand.
You and Oz had both started to grow closer and closer together. He was an incredibly considerate soul. He would do anything for you and he knew that you had a great affection for him.
He was going to ask you on a date, that wasn’t sitting side by side in a cage for the evening and passing the time that way. But for now, he was happy to spend this time with you.
Another month, another full moon. You and he were together again, looking at each other through the thick bars. You could communicate just through looking at each other now. Nonverbal communication made your silences always comfortable ones.
There was a level of intimacy in how relaxed you could both be together, even in this situation. Even waiting for the night to fall, a time where both of you felt so vulnerable. So concerned that something would go wrong with the cage. That you couldn’t contain it.
You reached for him through the bars wordlessly and he didn’t hesitate to move towards you. His hand stretching between the space. Your hands twisting like vines. Solidifying the nature of your connection. Of your unsaid feelings.
You could get through tonight, as you always did, together.
As your human forms disappeared, the wolves emerged. Pacing your cages. Longing to be together, whining that they couldn’t reach each other. Trying to escape, not just for the hunt. But for the touch of the other. As always happened.
When morning came and you could be unlocked, you went to get brunch together. It was the best part of the month, especially when you were safely caged away and nobody got hurt. You had an entire month stretching before you. You both became incredibly hungry in this period and the morning just appeared to glow with hope.
He had helped you want to live. Changed the bleak landscape of your existence into a sunny life you could actually imagine enjoying. Only with him.
You slid into your booth, the one by the window that you always did. He had helped you so much, but you hadn’t realised how much you had helped him. Today though, on this morning with the early morning sunlight filtering in, he told you. It came from the heart just like those lyrics he wrote so well. The ones he had played for you in those long afternoons you spent alone.
Your eyes shone and your voice was barely audible as you gushed about how much he meant to you. About your mutual adoration. Your words didn’t feel enough. You wanted to express all of these feelings you had for him in the same way he had so easily reeled off from his own heart. He had been nervous to reveal them, but you never would have guessed.
He smiled at the way you had opened up so much since you first met. He slid around the booth the sit beside you. His eyes moved between your eyes and your lips. He was nervous but your adoration for him shone through. You shared a knowing smile.
He leaned in and his lips brushed tenderly against yours. He never wanted to press you for more, just feel his wholehearted emotion. This one action said everything. He wanted you to be his. His girlfriend. You kissed back as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your skull. Began to tangle softly into your hair. The kiss was so tender and sweet, you near melted into him. Your hand found his resting on the table as your lips moved against the other in such reverence. Your hand clasping his. You eventually reluctantly moved from this kiss. It made you feel like you were flying. As if you were walking on air. It meant hope. It meant him.
“Werewolves in love” He smiled, before landing a brief and incredibly soft kiss to your lips. He then slid back to his side of the booth as the waitress arrived with you food.
Neither of you could help smiling. The corners of his lips tugging into a smile that completely accentuated his features. He glowed. You were grinning across the table from him, unable to believe just how much your life could have changed for the better.
You were never going to be alone anymore. You had each other. You knew each other intimately.
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danceworshipper · 3 years ago
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Giulio Moretti - HPMA Character Profile
template by me // images created using the zepeto app
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NOTE: I am a cisgender female. As such, I have been hesitant to make a trans oc and will not be going into much detail about Giulio's experiences specifically related to his gender. If anything in here feels iffy to anyone not cisgender, please let me know and I'll correct it
Personal
Full Name: Giulio Antonio Moretti
Gender: Male (trans)
Sexuality: Demisexual, polyamorous
Birthday: June 1st
Age: 11
Birthstone: Alexandrite
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
Blood Status: Full Veela
- I'm mostly using these headcanons written by @carmilla-the-bird, though over time I might end up changing a couple details
- I'm not certain if full Veelas would even use wands/go to magic school but these ones do because I say so
- What I'm specifically adding is that since HPMA takes place later than the full HP series, there has been a new method developed to allow full veelas to better coexist with wizards. This comes in the form of a clear gemstone that can be inserted into any piece of jewelry, usually necklaces. While the stone is worn, the charm [or allure, as I call it] that all veelas have while glamored is dampened by up to 80%. Another effect is that when angered, the veela won't be able to lash out with their fire magic, unless they've trained their magic well enough that's it's less of an instinct and more of a conscious choice. Minors are legally required to wear it at all times, except in their own home with only their family around. Once an adult the veela can choose whether they want to wear it or not. The stone has a similar trace to underaged magic, so when a Veela who's a minor takes it off, the Ministry is alerted and their location will be tracked
3 Positive Traits:
- Empathetic
- Resourceful
- Playful
3 Negative Traits:
- Irritable
- Addictive
- Pessimistic
Usual First Impression: When meeting Giulio, most people see him as a spoiled and stuck up little boy. This isn't true. He's just very wary of strangers, so he doesn't tend to leave a good first impression. Once he's more comfortable around someone, his positive traits outshine the more negative ones
Location
Birthplace: A Veela-specific clinic in southern Italy. His mother travelled there for all of her children's births, and the midwife there is the woman who delivered her
Current Home: His family home in England, a medium sized house under a strict Fidelius charm, which his aunt is the Secret Keeper for. His bedroom is on the second floor, looking out over the fish pond in the backyard
Future Home(s): Fresh out of Hogwarts he'll share an apartment with Lori with heavily warded Floo access. Later homes TBD once his love interests are planned out
Favorite Place: The little house the family rents for a month every summer in southern Italy. The town is full of good culture, and better yet, good food. It feels peaceful, even when there's a loud festival going on
Disliked Place: The woods a mile down the road from his home. The woods are the last place Giulio saw his grandmother before she went missing, and now they feel like they're haunted. He refuses to go on walks there anymore
Appearance
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Face Shape: Round, slightly pointy chin
Eye Color: Deep teal
Hair Color: Whitish blond
Hair Style: Self cut (horrifies his mother), slightly uneven, medium length. Not brushed every day, fluffy
Skin Tone: Pale
Freckles/Spots: A few beauty marks on his face, two near his right eye and one on the left side of his chin
Scars: None yet
Piercings/Tattoos: None
Height: 5'7" [fully grown]
Weight: ~ 135 lbs [fully grown]
Physique: Thin. Luckily for him, Giulio's family has always had rather "boyish" bodies - wide shoulders, not very curvy - but he's still got too much woman in him to be fully happy with his form
Clothing Style: Baggy tops, loose pants, nothing fancy. Giulio tries to attract as little attention as possible, because while he's glamored people stare at him a lot anyway, even with the dampener. He does like colored pants, but his tops are usually grey and black. His dampening necklace is the most eye catching thing he wears (as it was a gift from his missing grandmother) and he wishes he could take it off, but he legally can't
Carried Items:
- The last picture of him, his sisters, and his grandmother ever taken
- A lighter. He likes having the fire near him since he can't access his own fire magic
- His hair scissors, for whenever he feels like it needs to be trimmed
- A container of Silly Putty he got from a Muggle convenience store
- His water bottle
Magic
Wand: 10" Veela hair wand in Fir wood. A very pale colored wand that's a bit rough around the edges. The hair is from his younger sister Martina, who yanked the strand right out and handed it to the wandmaker after no wands appeared to choose a very defeated looking Giulio. The wand was made while Giulio watched, and he checked it many times throughout the process to make sure it felt like it would have him, which it did.
Animagus: As a veela, Giulio can transform into pretty much any bird shape. He has no need to go through the animagus process
Boggart Form: Him, fully matured, very womanly, and in a wedding gown just like the ones his older sister Alessia fawns over
Riddikulus Form: Him in a ridiculously exaggerated Bloody Baron costume
Amortentia (to others): Someone smelling Giulio would smell new pillows, the faint burning metal scent that clings to him, and the dry shampoo he uses
Amortentia (to them): He doesn't smell any sort of romantic interest yet. What he smells now are safe, comforting smells, like the cigars his mother and aunt smoke, the perfume all his sisters use, and the smell of his favorite restaurant in southern Italy
Patronus: Bird of Paradise
Happiest Memory: Receiving his wand once it was completed, and finally feeling the connection and power he'd heard so much about but thought he'd never have
Mirror of Erised: Some might consider it sad, but all he sees is him, happy, the way he wishes he was - including not looking at all like a Veela. Someday this will change
Family Spells: It's not really a spell, but the Morettis have a particular bird call that, when paired with the right charm, will alert every living family member to the caller's location, should one desperately need help. It's only to be used in emergencies. Giulio isn't sure he wants to know why his grandmother never used it
Inherent Magic: Veela stuff - storm sense, fire, bird transformations, allure, slight levitation abilities
Family
Grandmother: Francesca is not an ideal parental figure. She grew up in a time when full Veelas were treated with nearly the same suspicion and prejudice as werewolves, so she's very anti-human. However, she was still one of Giulio's best defenders and most treasured family members. She places a huge importance on family and is the one who came up with the idea of the special danger call. Francesca went missing when Giulio was seven, and there have been no clues as to what happened.
Mother: Valentina is a kind, gentle woman who cares for her family before anyone else. She and her sister were taught all their lives to be nothing more than a pretty face, and while Bianca rejected this, Valentina embraced it. Even now, with her own mother nowhere to be found, she has trouble remembering to be herself. She wears her necklace at all times, terrified to be without it
Father: Giulio never knew him. He's not sure he even has one
Aunt: Bianca is, in many ways, the exact opposite of her sister. Bianca embraces all of her less than proper instincts, and even walks around in public completely unglamored, acting as a good deterrent to anyone who might want to come say hi, innocent intentions or not. Gets angry very easily, and has caused public property damage more often than Valentina would appreciate
Sisters: Two older sisters, one younger. All Slytherins while in school
- Alessia, six years older, prefect. A headstrong young woman who takes advantage of her allure to get what she wants, and is skilled enough to fight off anyone who gets too "friendly". She likes to have a collection of boy toys she never lets get too close, but secretly only has eyes for the Hufflepuff prefect, Lina.
- Emilia, four years older, Quidditch captain. Hates her allure with a passion and refuses to even think about romance until she's out of school. Could kick anyone's ass, and will do so if she feels the need to. Very protective of Giulio, has gotten into at least eight shouting matches with those who misgender him
- Martina, one year younger. The baby of the family. A bit of a spoiled brat, and too young to fully understand exactly why her older siblings are all so wary of strangers, or letting her out of their sight. She dreams of being the Minister of Magic, and of being able to take her "stupid, ugly, and stupid" necklace off for good
Pets: The two family screech owls which trade off being at school/home, and an Abraxan Giulio found on Hogwarts grounds that likes him a lot
Family Values: The Morettis hold nothing higher than each other. The family's main priority is sticking together, and always doing whatever they can to help each other achieve whatever they wish. The family is also, as a whole, rather reclusive
Opinion of Family: Giulio loves his family. For all their faults, they hold true to their values and he couldn't imagine one of them ever betraying another. Even if they won't ever truly understand him, they've all tried and they do what they can, and it means more than he can say
Friendships
Introverted or Extroverted: Introverted
Best Friend: Oleander Loris. Her anger issues, her weird pink eyes, and her tendency to drag him along to social outings are all things that Giulio comes to appreciate over time. He originally became curious about her on the train ride to school, when she stumbled looking at his older sisters but didn't notice him at all, and they spoke for the first time in Flying class. Lori is definitely a force to be reckoned with, and the fact that she's not affected by his allure in the slightest makes him feel really happy
Worst Friend: TBD
Friend He Didn't Expect: Cassandra. They aren't the best of friends, and maybe they can't be considered friends at all, but she doesn't hold the contempt she seems to hold for most others for him
Who He Wishes Was His Friend: Kestra Fernera. She's got fire powers, and she doesn't have to be chained down by the Ministry. He thinks she's super cool, and is very jealous of her and how popular she is, but he's far too nervous to try and talk to her
List of Casual Friends:
- Brian Haywood-Reese @catohphm
- others TBD, but likely the main cast of the game. Mc friends welcome, if any are interested!
Romance
Current Crush: None
Current Partner: None
Past Partners: None
Future Partners: TBD
His Type: Pretty much anyone who's able to look past the allure that Giulio hates so much and also isn't afraid of him in his natural form, though most people haven't even seen it
Hogwarts
House: Slytherin
Prefect Status: No
Quidditch: Not on the team, but plays casually
Clubs: TBD
Organizations: None
Favorite Class: Flying. Duh
Least Favorite Class: Potions. It gives him a headache surrounded by all the fumes
Favorite Professor: TBD
Least Favorite Professor: TBD
Timeline
Young Childhood:
- Giulio realizes young that he hates the idea of being a girl, and insists that his mother change his name. His family thought it was a phase, but once they realized it wasn't, they became more serious and started to see what they could do to help him
- He's a sheltered child, learning early the importance of staying close to a trusted adult. He sees the horrors of what can happen to a Veela caught unaware at a young age when he almost loses his mother to someone who wanted to sell her, and never looks at strangers the same way again
- At five years old Giulio is given his dampener necklace. He refuses to wear it until his grandmother forcibly puts it on him. He decides it's not that bad, though it feels like it's choking him and he doesn't like the muted feeling in his hands that comes from the loss of his instinctual magic
- At seven years old, Giulio is on a walk with his grandmother in the woods when he hears a loud screech. She sends him back toward the house, saying she'll be right behind him. Hours pass, and she never follows. There's no evidence as to what that screech was, or what happened to his grandmother
- At eleven years old, Giulio spends a week traveling to different wandmakers around Europe trying to find a wand so he can go to school in the fall. For some reason, his magic is picky and not a single wand even comes close to working for him. When he's given up all hope, his little sister Martina asks if the wandmaker takes custom orders, and rips out her own hair to be used for Giulio's wand. It's the first time Giulio cries happy tears, hovering his hand over the uncompleted wand and feeling it call to him already
School Years: TBD once I'm able to play the game
Post Graduation: Giulio moves into an apartment with Lori soon after graduating. While she immediately starts work, Giulio takes time to find some higher education, and work on training his Veela magic now that he can take his necklace off whenever he wants
Career(s): TBD
Marriage and Children: TBD
Death: Giulio will be murdered by [redacted] in order to save [redacted]'s life, but he'll be very old (around 200) and will have outlived his lovers, so he doesn't see it as too much of a shame. He'll be buried in the family garden and have some lovely flower bushes planted over him
Notable Facts Not Previously Mentioned
- The Veela magic in Giulio recognizes him as a boy as soon as he does. When his allure kicks in, anyone attracted to men finds themself affected, while those strictly into women do not, even though male Veelas are practically unheard of
- His aunt Bianca paid a personal visit to Hogwarts before he was enrolled, ready to throw flames if he was going to be put into the female dorms. Luckily, she didn't need to worry, as once the situation was explained it was settled with a simple change in his paperwork
- Giulio hates being cooped up indoors for too long. Even in the coldest days of winter, he'll spend as much time as possible outside
- Starting in third year, Lori will figure out how to get the necklace off of him without alerting anyone [putting it on herself within a few seconds], and Giulio will occasionally spend a few hours free and in his natural form in the Forbidden Forest. Unbeknownst to him, wearing the necklace saps at Lori's magical core, and it takes her a day or so to regain her strength if she wears it for more than thirty minutes
- Giulio will likely have three partners in the future. He could never even imagine having one, so if his younger self was told he would have three he would probably have a difficult time believing it
- Cutting his hair so frequently doesn't affect his magic like his mother feared it would, though he does feel nauseous when he does it
- The dark teal eyes are something only he and his sisters have, which is how he knows they all have the same "father" or whatever they had. His mother, aunt, and grandmother all have the traditional black eyes. Not even Alessia ever saw any type of man around when her younger siblings were born, so there are no clues as to how the four of them exist
- As much as he hates the dampener, it does him a lot of good when he's younger. He gets angry easily and often feels very defensive, so without it he could have gotten into a lot of trouble
- Though he doesn't like his allure, Giulio will sometimes take advantage of it like Alessia does if he wants to get out of something. He won't fight it, he'll play nice, and let whoever he needs to back off get a little dazed
- He wanted to hide the fact that he was a Veela when he first came to Hogwarts, but with two older sisters and his allure he couldn't
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gamerwoo · 4 years ago
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[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Five)
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Characters: Chan x female reader
Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, not really fluff but not angst either??? idk lmao, oh mention of murder tho
Word count: 2,196
Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.
Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist
“Good morning, Seungcheol,” Soomin grinned over her shoulder as she scrambled up some eggs for the pack.
Wonwoo stood beside her, facing away from the stove, but keeping an arm around her waist anyway. His face was soft as he looked at her before pressing a chaste kiss to her temple.
“Morning, Soomin,” Seungcheol nodded before turning his attention to the multiple packs of eggs on the counter. Then he looked at the pup with a quirked brow. “Mind telling me what you were doing in the market?”
“Who said these were from the market?” Chan smirked. “_____ had extra. That bastard’s father gives it to them because _____’s his…you know.”
Donghae’s father owned a farm with chickens, and since your family ran a bakery, he often supplied you with eggs for free since you were his future daughter-in-law. But since Chan had returned to you every night for the last few days, you wanted a way to pay him back. He’d told you about his large pack, so you figured maybe a bit of food might help him out.
“That reminds me,” Soonyoung began, clearing his throat as he set his orange juice down on the table, “I asked Junmyeon about helping in case things with _____ go awry, but he said Luhan, Yixing, and Zitao were away for the next couple weeks. But they have some friends who he said are always eager to help anybody in need.”
“Another pack?” Seungcheol quizzed, surprised to hear this. He only knew of Junmyeon’s pack, except for Jiung’s pack that was pretty far away. “How many are there?”
“Eight, not counting their mates,“ the middle alpha continued. “But they’re a pack consisting of entirely special werewolves. Their alpha is a waterbender like Junmyeon.”
Seokmin suddenly gasped, “Isn’t that the pack Jia told us about? With the twins?”
“The firebender and the waterbender,” Soonyoung nodded, “I remember. It’ll be interesting to get to meet the twins in person. What’re their names?”
“That’s Jiung and Kyung!” Danbi exclaimed excitedly, remembering the pack that had helped her and Mingyu before they were found by their pack. They still went to visit them every so often, as did Eunjin, but the trek there was quite the journey.
“What’re you talking about?” Yeji wondered, not knowing about this other pack that only a few members had met before.
“This one pack helped us out a couple times,” Jihoon explained briefly. “They help out anyone, really.”
“Why would a pack that doesn’t know people want to help them?” Jooyeon asked, not understand that logic at all. “What do they gain from it? Didn’t they say before that’s how some of their pack died?”
Wonwoo shrugged, playing mindlessly with Soomin’s hair as she cooked. “Some packs are just…friendly and helpful.”
“There’s still good people in the world, thief,” Joshua stated, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Says you of all people,” she spat back. 
-
It wasn’t until a few days later that Jiung had arrived with a few of his pack. There were three other men with him, but Jiung was holding one by the waist, and looked at him the same way Chan looked at you, so he wasn’t sure if he was just a mate or a werewolf as well.
He also noticed that Jiung didn’t have Korean features at all. He weren’t sure where the older was from – he had more of a brown skin tone, with black hair that was in loose curls on the top of his head but shaved short on the sides, almond eyes, and he was about as tall as Mingyu – but he had a Korean name. The pup wondered what his story was. Maybe he moved here from his homeland hoping for a better life as a werewolf. Chan made a mental note to ask.
“It’s great to see you again, Seungcheol,” Jiung greeted the alpha as he walked into the house. “It’s nice coming to visit you for a change instead of members of your pack coming to us. I’m excited to meet your entire pack, finally.”
“They’re excited to meet you, as well,” Seungcheol nodded with a friendly smile as he gave a short greeting to the others. “Where’s your sister? Eunjin was hoping to see her again.”
Jiung let out a laugh, nodding, “I’m sorry to disappoint. She’s feeling a little under the weather lately, so she stayed home.”
Seungcheol led Jiung and his pack into the living room where his pack was already gathered -- save for Eunjin who was upstairs sleeping since she left the house the night before in one of her trances and was screaming at nothing in the middle of the woods -- ready to meet this ‘super pack’ that they’d heard so much about. Danbi was more than excited to see them again, bouncing her daughter in her lap.
“Let me introduce my brothers, and my mate,” Jiung shifted the subject after warm ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’ were exchanged, gesturing to the two men behind him. “This is Jaesang – he’s a shape shifter – and Hanbin – his power is speed. And this is my mate, Chanseong.”
Seungcheol’s pack gave their short introductions as they all settled into the living room. The pack couldn’t help but notice that Hansol and Soonyoung kept sniffing around Jiung and his pack – Hansol specifically seemed to have an interest in Jiung, though – and Chan wondered what their problem was. Nobody else was doing it except for them, so what was the deal?
Seungcheol let Chan explain the situation to the few members of Jiung’s pack: you needed rescuing, and the mates at home needed protection. Jiung and his pack listened intently, nodding to everything said. When the explanation was over, Jiung cleared his throat.
“We can definitely assist,” Jiung assured the pack. “If anything bad happens to the house, we know of a place big enough to house you all. We moved after suffering a devastating loss to our own pack, so that house will have more than enough room. It’s near a town that’s so big, nobody will really notice anything suspicious.”
“Seriously?” Soonyoung’s eyes widened. “It took us forever to find this place and then make it as big as it is.”
“We can take some of you to see it if you want,” Jiung offered with a shrug. “It doesn’t take too long to get there in wolf form, y’know.”
Judging from the empty backpacks three of the four boys had on their backs, Chan could tell they had gotten there in wolf form and gotten dressed in the woods beforehand. 
“The three oldest can go,” Jihoon shrugged. “Soonyoung and I will hold down the fort here.”
Chan immediately sat up straighter, “Can I go?”
“This is all for him,” Seungcheol pointed out. “I guess you may as well.”
So it was decided the youngest could go with, as well as Jooyeon who refused to be left behind in case Seungcheol didn’t make it back before dark. But she was told that if she wanted to go, she had to help Chanseong carry the backpacks of clothes while the wolves ran to their destination.
-
The wolves slowed at a large house in a clearing full of flowers, and Chanseong helped Jooyeon down once they stopped completely. They shifted without caring who saw, thought neither of the mates really stared, too used to situations like this.
“I hope you don’t mind we stopped at home quickly,” Jiung said as he tugged his shirt on over his head. “One of the girls in our pack likes to visit the town by the house we’re going to show you. She’s originally from there, actually.”
“Oh, is she a mate?” Jeonghan asked, finishing buttoning his trousers.
“She…was,” Jiung sighed. “Her mate was murdered, but her and my sister, Kyung are the only two who witnessed it.
“She did get imprinted on by someone else, but they’re...working their issues out. I won’t say too much about it right now.”
Jiung led his visitors up to the door and it was open before they even reached it. A girl that was a few inches shy of Jiung and looked very similar to him stood in the doorway, her golden eyes scanning the faces of those she could see: Jiung, the two wolves with him, Chanseong, and Seungcheol.
Chan’s eyes widened in surprise. He’d heard of the female werewolf, sure, but he’d never gotten to actually meet her before.
“Hey,” she greeted her alpha with a smile. “See you brought more wolves, huh?”
“And a mate, actually,” he corrected. “Where’s Rika? We’re headed up to the old house.”
“Ah,” the girl nodded before turning away and walking deeper into the house, “I’ll find her.”
“That’s my twin sister, Kyung,” Jiung told your pack as he gestured for them to follow him in the house.
“Where are you from, Jiung?” Chan finally spoke up.
Jiung looked over his shoulder, smiling at the youngest, “Kyung and I were adopted by a Korean family while we were in America. They were trying to save children who were abandoned from a bad war we had at the time. We did have other names before, but our adoptive parents re-named us Kyung and Jiung when they brought us here. We’ve lived in Korea since we were about one or two, but we’ve traveled a bunch before deciding to settle back here.”
Joshua said something cheerily in English, and it made Jiung fully turn around and smile the brightest smile, showing off a pair of dimples. He replied back to him before turning back around, and reverting back to Korean.
“We had a good relationship with our adoptive parents, though,” he continued, so he assumed whatever Joshua said was related to the current topic. “They were the ones who told us we should leave since the town didn’t take kindly to werewolves. Kyung is the younger twin, but she showed the signs first. They assumed I would have the same gene, so we both left with the money our parents gave us. We try to visit them from time to time, though.”
Jiung led the small group into a living room full of other people. Seungcheol and his pack noticed there was another girl with golden eyes, who also didn’t look like she was from here. She just barely caught sight of the pack before she suddenly disappeared from their sight, as if she had gone into thin air. Chan’s eyes widened, but nobody else seemed to notice.
“Nice place…” Jooyeon murmured as she looked around.
“Don’t even think about doing anything,” her mate whispered to her, and she frowned.
“I wasn’t!” she whined.
Jiung gestured for Seungcheol’s pack to come forward so he could introduce them. As Jiung was explaining the situation, Kyung returned with a smaller, doll-like girl.
“I found her,” the curly-haired girl reported.
The girl they assumed to be Rika gave a little wave before introducing herself to them. She leaned against the back of the couch that was occupied by Jiung’s pack, and she tilted her head to one side as a small, casual smile settled on her lips.
“So what am I needed for?” Rika wondered.
“We’re having a pack meeting,” Jiung stated. “Seungcheol’s pack is in need, and we’re going to help them.”
Chan’s eyes zeroed in on Kyung, who had moved to sit at the arm of the couch and was moving her lips in words that he didn’t hear. He thought it was strange, but he didn’t say anything about it.
A female voice was heard that wasn’t understood by most people in the room, and Seungcheol’s pack couldn’t find the source. Jiung’s pack, however, knew exactly where -- and who -- it came from.
“We helped two of their pack in the past, and you all remember Eunjin, but this is bigger than those,” Jiung continued. “A mate is in danger, and we have to help them retrieve her from town.”
The girl that had disappeared seemingly out of thin air had done the same thing again, but this time, reappearing at the end of the couch beside Kyung. Her expression reminded Chan of Joshua, looking up at her alpha with eyebrows raised and a look in her eyes that almost said ‘you’re so stupid’. She spoke to him again, the same voice they’d previously been looking for the owner for coming from her lips.
Jiung let out a sigh before saying, “If one of us imprinted on someone who was in danger and we needed help, we’d want someone to do the same, wouldn’t we?”
His pack nodded and mumbled their agreement. Reluctantly, the strange girl nodded, but rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. She continued mumbling to herself, but Chan had no idea what she was saying. It seemed she only knew how to speak English.
Jiung gestured to the free couches and chairs before he sat down himself. Seungcheol and the others took their seats before the foreign alpha leaned forward, “So, should we start discussing plans? We have a mate to save.”
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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years ago
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There is no such thing as vampires #1 || Jurdan AU
Jurdan Smut Week 2020   •   DAY 2
The prompt was technically dagger play...it didn’t really worked that way but HEY more smut! (vampire smut cough)
@jurdannet​   @jurdannetrevels​
Rating: E (no I don’t mean ‘everyone’)
Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of blood, some biting (it’s a vampire au c’mon), swear words (just in case)
Summary: 
Behind me stands a tall, slender man dressed in black trousers and one of those puffy white shirts men always use in period TV dramas. Raven curls frame the sharp angles of his face and his pale skin resembles marble. I stare at him unsure if my eyes widen because of the scare or how good looking he is. Maybe both.
His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying.
Extra comments: Just because I’m extra af, I’ll leave you the ambience music videos I listened while writing this. In case you’d like to hear them while reading:
Rain in a forest at night - Haunted Mansion/rain/thunder/wind - Narnia Lullaby
Written for: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23​ MA’AM AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR ALL THE HELP AND SUPPORT, FOR BETAING THIS UNENDING PIECE AND FOR HELPING ME CRAFTING THE IDEA FOR IT! ❤️
Part 1 ||  Part 2
Masterlist   •   AO3
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“Please tell me again why are we doing this?” I ask for the third time, leaning to rest my head on my sister’s shoulder. We bounce as the uncomfortable van we travel in turns to a cobbled path, leading us deeper into the woods. 
“Because,” Vivi hisses back. “Your little brother is currently in his Twilight-obsession phase, and he just broke up with his girlfriend so we’re trying to cheer him up!”
“He’s 9! And they lasted like, what? Four hours?”
In that moment, Oak turns violently from the front seat, scowling at me. “First of all Jude, we were together two full days ok? She was the love of my life and suddenly she’s not sure about us anymore? Now I shall never find love again! I might have to become a priest. I expect a little consideration.”
Vivi ruffles his hair affectionately. “We absolutely understand, your sister here doesn’t have an ounce of romance in her veins but of course she supports the cause.”
That said, he returns to his place. I bite my lip hard, trying not to laugh. Typical Oak. I love my brother I really do, even if half of the time I can’t understand his dramatic outbursts.
Sighing, I stare through the window, to the heavy clouds gathering on top of us. Great. We are probably far away from the highway by now, nothing more than trees, rocks and occasional wild animals around. For some reason, our father had thought that there was no better way of fixing a kid’s broken heart than going on a quest in search of legends and hidden castles. 
The thing is that apparently, it works. Instead of an incessant whining about love being doomed, my brother spends the days throwing the most random facts about werewolves, vampires, ghosts and any impossible creature. To be honest, I don’t think wikipedia and the Twilight books are a reliable source, but if it makes Oak happy I could live a couple of days with it. And most importantly if I have to choose between this or spending the week back at home with my mother and twin sister going to tea parties for old ladies, well, the answer is very clear.
I remember reading a few books about myths when I was younger. When I turned fifteen, I developed a hard crush on Brad Pitt after I saw Interview with the Vampire, filling half of the walls in my room with posters of him. Even now ten years later, I actually enjoy talking about old folklore and legends, urban myths and stuff like that. 
What bugs me, are the fraudulent morons who want to take advantage of Oak’s naive curiosity to engage us in the most ridiculous tours that were obviously a waste of money. So far, we’d entered three “museums” where most of the so-called relics were made of plastic, and a haunted house with special effects so poorly done, father had discreetly asked for his money back. Only another two of the places we visited were actually interesting, but since the guides spent most of the time flirting with Vivi or me, it had annoyed our father. 
Now though, we are driving behind the car of an old couple who swore their ancestors owned a castle where true vampires had lived once. The sole mention of the word “castle” was enough to make Oak hang from our father’s sleeve begging to go.
I’m not going to lie, it is an intriguing idea. But I remain a little worried about how much money Madoc is ready to pay before he hurries his little son back to his fantasy books and videogames.
“Dad, did you know that vampires like to live in the woods because it allows them to make racing competitions without being interrupted?” Oak asks with enthusiasm.
Madoc gasps. “Do they? Is it because they’re so fast?” 
Okay, he might be willing to pay more than I thought. Next to me, Vivi muffles a laugh and keeps taking pictures for her instagram, occasionally asking for my help.
Upon arriving at the castle I have to suppress a curse. This, now, is a real castle. Nothing like the pitiful buildings we’d visited before. It is huge, made of pure stone and a modest wooden bridge that connects the entrance with the spot where the cars park. A slight fog covers the sides of the castle giving it a creepier look. 
A shiver goes down my back. I turn to find my family who are all equally gaping at the place in front of them. Oak is visibly shaking with excitement. Vivi shoots me an astonished look before taking my brother’s hand and following the couple across the bridge.  
The first thought that pops into my mind is that this place must have been taken out from a movie. Or set up for one. Maybe this is one of those pranks for TV. There is no other explanation for the massive room we find behind the giant front gate. Every inch of the walls is covered by paintings, several images barely recognizable through the dust. Aged furniture rests under dust and spiderwebs, pointing out they haven’t been used in quite some time. The illumination doesn’t help either. Electric lights hang from a few spots on the walls, though not enough for the big space, which I suspect is the reason that long candles are lit up too. 
My next thought is that I should’ve brought my sweater. The damn place is freezing. 
“Phew, sorry about the dust!” The old man says, flashing an embarrassed smile to us. “We were not planning to have any visitors yet.”
“You said this is going to be a museum?” Madoc asks, carefully surveying the walls. Next to him, Vivi tightens her hold on my brother’s hand to prevent him from starting to run around. I swear his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. 
“It will indeed! This place has been in our family for generations, but since it’s hard to adapt it to modern technology it was abandoned.” He turns to Oak and winks. “Not to mention the creepy things that happen here all the time.”
His gaze widens. “What kind of things?”
“Well, some distant relatives used to try spending their vacations here. But after a couple of days they left in a big rush, claiming some strange force had commanded them to go away.” With a lower voice, he adds. “They also mentioned noises coming out from empty rooms and dark hallways. Steps. Shadows that followed them along the place.” 
For a second everyone remains silent. The only noise I can hear is the wind outside and the start of a slight rain. Somehow my hands are even colder.
“The legend says,” The woman, whose name is Marrow if I remember it correctly, continues while taking one chandelier with her hand. “This was the hideout of ancient vampires, how many, we don’t know. But they didn’t appreciate people trying to live within their domains.”
“So why come here at all?” Vivi asks. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
“It might be.” She shrugs. “But that’s half of the fun, isn’t it?”
“We like to think we’ve found a safe way to open this castle to the public without taking any risks. We will use a part of it as a museum, to show some of the family relics. But be aware, no one is allowed to go further than the marked area.” He signals at the yellow tape stuck on the floor forming arrows.
“If you please...” Marrow says, motioning at the stairs where the markings start.
They get me for a moment, not gonna lie. The surroundings and the way they speak are creepy enough to make me doubt my beliefs for a second. I shake my head to clear those thoughts away and walk behind my family. There’s no such thing as vampires or haunted castles.
We go through passages. Madoc has to remind Oak to not touch anything, constantly. From what I see, he’s living his best day. Several counters line up side by side against the wall. Some of them contain jewelry, others weapons, old writing pens among other things. Most of them carry a family shield, although it’s too blurry to properly identify what it says.
The rain thickens outside and Marrow keeps talking. She tells the story of her so called ancestors, whose family were big enough to fill all the rooms in the castle. Elwen, Eldred… something like that, and his many wives had once lived here. Along with his abounding children. I see in Oak’s face the intention to ask about how that family arrangement worked but Vivi gives him a slight pull of his hair. 
I would have thought our guides would try to keep a proud name for their so-called ancestors. But they don’t. In fact, she seems particularly interested in explaining how Eldred’s cruel and terrible nature brought him nothing but disgrace. His once prosperous castle and assets were gone little by little. He claimed he was under the effects of a curse, but no one dared believing him. At least not until people started disappearing.
I stop listening at some point, focusing my attention on the relics in front of me. I’ve always felt a significant attraction to weapons, but not the ordinary ones like guns or rifles. These ones though, such beautiful daggers and swords. I’d give a kidney just to hold one of them. 
On the next shelf books pile one next to the other, the dust around them a clear sign of how long they’ve been unbothered. All except for one. The navy blue cover has almost no dust at all, yet it looks like it would fall apart with a gentle blow of wind. The title is partially gone, probably through time. 
I turn my head to my family but they’re gone, probably to another corridor since I can still hear the muffled voice of Marrow and my brother. Would she care at all if I check out that book?
I bite my lip. As long as it doesn’t break it’s probably alright. Standing on the tip of my toes I reach for it.
“That is an excellent book.” 
I shriek and whip around, my hand flies to my mouth trying to cover the embarrassing sound. The book falls open next to my feet.
Behind me stands a tall, slender man dressed in black trousers and one of those puffy white shirts men always use in period TV dramas. Raven curls frame the sharp angles of his face and his pale skin resembles marble. I stare at him unsure if my eyes widen because of the scare or how good looking he is. Maybe both. 
His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying. “My personal favorite. Too bad the author was a poisonous bunch-backed toad.”
My mouth opens to apologize, but I only manage to let out a strangled. “Shit”
The stranger lifts an eyebrow and chuckles. 
“Sorry, I- that wasn’t what I meant to say.” I stutter. I feel as if my heart has jumped to my throat. “I wasn’t trying to steal the book.”
“I did not say you were.” He answers, his voice is like velvet.
I nod and take a deep breath. “I came in with my family. Marrow is showing us the place.”
His dark eyes wander down my body, but not like one of those rude men on the streets. No. Something in his gaze feels feral, like an animal sizing up his prey. A strange urge to run pools in my stomach, yet at the same time my muscles seem to have forgotten how to do so. 
He looks me in the eyes again and it’s all gone. I let go of the tension in my back and a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When he smiles again, I feel as if I could trust him. Why shouldn’t I?
“And are you enjoying the tour?” He bends to pick up the book I’d dropped before and puts it back on the shelf. His movements are fluid and carefree. I doubt I’ve ever seen such elegance in a simple action. It is unsettling as much as it is attractive. Then I realize I’m supposed to answer.
“Yes, this is amazing actually.” I look around and take in the aged stone of the walls and ceiling. In that corridor there’s only one electric lamp, the rest is only lightened by candles. I can see our shadows dancing along to the flames. “All of this really helps getting in the ‘mood’.”
“The mood?” 
I look at him and notice his tilted head. “Yeah you know, the mood of enchanted castles and old legends. This is well put enough that a credulous person would believe any story. Marrow is pretty good at it too.” Motioning a hand to him I add. “They even have their own actor.”
A thunder roars outside. “I beg your pardon?”
I roll my eyes and flash him a smile. “You don’t really have to keep the charade with me. I’m not some schoolgirl.”
“Yet I managed to pull a scream out of you, didn’t I?” The way he says it feels as if he was talking about an entirely different subject. Heat creeps up my cheeks.
“That was… not the same.” I mumble. “I didn’t hear you approaching. That could scare the living hell out of anybody.”
“I have been told I am quite sneaky, I concede you that.” He nods. “Why don’t I give you the rest of the tour? As an apology, of course.”
He’s doing his job, I remind myself, he’s not flirting with you. 
“You haven’t even told me your name.” I say. “If we’re roaming around a castle together I should at least know who’s guiding me.”
That sounded an awful lot like flirting. Dammit. 
“Cardan, at your service madam.” The tone he uses feels like a caress, he bows his head in a way I’ve only seen in movies. He takes his role seriously. I almost chuckle, but the sound dies in my throat. 
“Cardan.” I repeat, just for the pleasure of doing it. “My name is Jude.”
He straightens. “Delighted to meet your acquaintance.” He answers and offers me his arm. “Shall we, Jude?”  
I can’t believe how far away my family has gone. Cardan and I walk through a couple of corridors and still there is no trace of them. Did we take that long talking?
He’s an excellent guide, I have to acknowledge that. 
While Marrow uses a tone of suspense and mystery, Cardan has this melancholy in his voice that sounds as if he’s talking about a memory. It’s bewitching. He also drops the most ridiculous “facts” about the people on the paintings. I refrain myself from asking if inventing things is allowed for employees, because saying that the girl with the pearl necklace enjoyed to play on the beach while saying she was the Princess of the Sea, certainly sounds like it. 
“If you bite your lip one more time, I am going to do it for you.” 
My heart skips a bit and I let go of my lower lip. I hadn’t realized I was tugging it. It’s an unconscious habit. I turn to him and I find his gaze different, hungry. It sends a shiver down to a place I know it shouldn’t. He arches an eyebrow as though he notices it.
“Is that a thing vampires like to do?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. The last thing I want him to know is that for the last twenty minutes I’ve been listening to him speak wishing he put a different use to that wicked mouth of his.
His gaze doesn’t change. “It is a thing I would like to do.” 
I am pretty sure my expression is giving me up by now. Knowing my traitorous body, I’m probably flushed, my mouth open in awe. Desire coils inside me.
At my lack of answer, he continues. “Why don’t I show you something vampires really like to do?” 
He walks back without letting go of my hand. I notice he steps out from the marked section and into a forbidden corridor. 
The sensation returns, the one that is telling me to run. The problem is that I don’t know whether to run away, or straight to it. My mind wants both and my body, only one.
“You’re going to the restricted area.” I’m partially surprised by how breathless my voice sounds. “You can’t go in there…”
Cardan pauses and a confused expression crosses his face. A second later, it returns to his charming and teasing smile. “Are you afraid?”
I am. 
Yet, I don’t care. I walk into the shadows with him.
As we cross the passage darkened by the lack of chandeliers I tell myself this is a terrible, terrible idea. The way he devours my mouth the moment a door slams shut behind us, convinces me it is the best.
Cardan pushes me against the wall, the cold temperature of the stone goes through my clothes making me gasp. He takes the opportunity and kisses me harder, his tongue explores my mouth with such deliciousness I have to bite back a moan. 
My fingers are tangled in his hair pulling him closer to me, if such a thing is even possible. His hands are everything but still. They roam intensely from my breasts, down my sides and finally to my rear, where he grabs me, pressing me against his pelvis. I hear him groan and the sound makes something clench inside me. 
Before I can double-think about it, one of my hands lowers to rub his hardness, still hidden behind his trousers. His breath hitches. He pulls back a bit and whispers to my ear. “Needy little human.”
I frown a moment, something about his words not clicking inside my brain but whatever it is I forget it the moment he slides his cold hands under my jersey. I yelp at the sensation, not sure if what flutters down my back is a result of the temperature or the eagerness which he’s holding me with. When he reaches my bra I hesitate for a moment. Cardan pauses too and leans back to stare into my eyes. 
“Do you want to stop?” His voice is throaty and charged with desire. Still, he doesn’t make a move, waiting for my answer.
An instinctive part of me knows this is something I shouldn’t be doing. But that’s definitely not any close to me wanting to stop. Without removing my eyes from his I take the hem of my jersey to pull it over my head. The piece of fabric hits the floor, but neither of us pays attention to it. Once again Cardan’s gaze roams me in that predatory way. 
I don’t stagger this time.
When my bra falls to the floor too, I take his hand and guide it to my jean’s button. “Do I look like I want to stop?”
Without hesitation he yanks the button open and slides his hand inside to cup the apex of my thighs. The contrast of my warm skin against his coldness makes my hips buck. Cardan buries his other hand in my hair and tilts my head back. I can feel his lips nipping down my jaw and my neck. A moan escapes my lips as he swipes a finger along my heat. He hums in response, the vibrations of it against my neck makes my eyes roll back.
He continues his ministrations until he feels me wet enough to slide a finger inside, he curls and pulls out. Then back inside. My breath comes out in elaborated pants as he quickens his pace. My hands almost finish unbuttoning his shirt when he slides another finger through my folds, his movements turn fast and punishing. Wet sounds taint the silence around us. As pleasure takes full control of my body I cling to him like a life saver, trying to muffle my moans.
“Let go Jude, let go for me.” He breathes next to my ear. My back arches and I sob a curse, writhing down on his hand. 
He slows down as I come back from my orgasm, but never stops. Despite the freezing surroundings a drop of sweat runs down my chest. My heart beats as if I just ran a marathon. Cardan’s lazy moves continue, frequently grazing that spot that makes me mewl.
I hear him sigh. “You smell so good.” He claims my mouth one more time and bites me hard enough to make me wince. His tongue caresses my lower lip and a warm throb expands through my veins. He freezes and pulls back, releasing me. I stare at him in confusion, or at least as much as I can manage giving my current state.
He pants a couple of times before looking up at me. There’s a fiercess in his eyes that would’ve been scary under normal situations, right now, it only makes me want him more. He swallows before finally speaking. “If we go further, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice is like sandpaper.
My body seems to work on its own account, as I move to cup his face between my hands. “I already told you.”
“Jude…” He warns me, but I interrupt him joining my lips to his.
“I want this.” I breathe into his mouth. Cardan lets out a defeated groan before pulling my body back against his. Either he’s been holding back or it is until that moment that I realize how strong he actually is. He kisses me like a starved man and I can feel my pulse rise once again.
Soon his shirt joins my other clothing. My fingers trace his chest and torso, marveled at the softness of his skin. I mimic him moments before and kiss his neck. A low sound that almost resembles a growl comes out from his throat. My hands travel lower.
Somehow I manage to free his raging erection from his trousers, closing my hand around him. He hisses and then tilts his hips up to my touch. I start pumping him with unsure movements before gaining confidence to do it harder, tighter. Now it’s his turn to curse. Even though it sounds like something taken out from a Shakespeare novel, it makes my core pulse. 
Cardan grips the hem of my jeans strong enough that for a moment I fear he’d rip them away. 
“Take these off.” He demands instead.
I’m not sure of how I manage to do it. My mind feels blurred with a mix of sensations. Disoriented, not sure about exactly how my body is doing all of that, and the bliss of knowing I’m enjoying every second of it.
Before the air hits my skin, Cardan lifts me from the ground. My legs circle his waist in a reflexive move. His lips quirk in approval. Then my back is once again pressed against the wall, making me arch in a failed attempt to avoid touching the cold stone. A sound leaves my mouth, though it is not clear if it’s a protest or a moan. I hear him chuckle in my ear and I turn my head, searching his lips.    
His kiss is slower but still deep. I feel as if small electric sparks are tickling every single one of my nerves. More, I need more. Cardan holds me in place with his hips, letting his hands wander up and down my legs.
The tip of his shaft is grazing my core over the thin fabric of my remaining piece of clothing, with an aching slowness that is not enough to ease my thirst. More.
I might have said that out loud because Cardan’s hips grind faster against me. It feels so good. And yet, it’s not enough.
I whine his name like a plea. 
He continues for a couple of torturing seconds before reaching between my thighs again. There’s no teasing now as he moves my panties aside and immediately sinks his fingers inside me, pumping in and out with a pace that has me gasping in no time. He murmurs something I can’t understand and lines himself up to my entrance.
With soft, deliberate movements he slides through my heat, letting me feel every inch of him until he’s completely filling me. Then he stills. My muscles twitch around him, trying to adjust to the invasion. The exquisiteness of it is making my head swoon. 
Cardan grabs my jaw and locks his gaze with mine. I can imagine what he’s looking at. Hooded eyes and flushed skin, though he doesn’t let me think a lot about it as he starts to move. Slow at first, with careful strokes that quickly evolve into long and deep. My mouth falls open at the sensation and my eyes shut.
“I warned you.” I hear him pant. “That there was no coming back.”
A whimper escapes my lips. I’m not even sure I’m actually trying to say something. He doesn’t seem to care either and leans to whisper to my ear. “You are mine now, Jude.”   
There is something in the way he says it, his words carrying some compelling implication I can’t fully catch. His lips trail down my neck and I want to answer. To tell him that I am, that after the way he’s taking me, how could it be otherwise? 
That’s when I feel a sharp stinging pain on the base of my throat. 
I cry out and try to shake it away but whatever it is won’t let me go. Cardan’s words echo at the back of my mind, Needy little human. 
As if sensing my thoughts he grabs my thighs and opens them wider, he thrusts into me harder and faster. Everything mixes in sensation. Pain leaves as fast as it came, leaving behind it that throb in my veins I can’t really explain. It is more intense now, what I felt as warm now is scorching. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, I’ve never felt so exhilarated before in my life. I don’t want it to stop. 
Cardan sucks on my neck again and I moan his name. Without realizing it, I’m on the brink of another orgasm. I only realize it because he groans when my legs start to shiver around him. I cling to his neck and his hair. If I’m pulling too hard I can’t really know. A familiar swirl comes up from my core to the rest of my body as I spasm around him. It takes me a moment to notice the broken moans and sobs I hear come from my own mouth. 
He keeps going a little longer until his fingers tighten over my skin, surely leaving bruises on both thighs. Muffled moans ring against my skin as he comes, thrusting in a couple of times more before stilling. A warm sensation covers the place where we join together.  His mouth lets go of my neck. I grunt and shiver. 
He puts me down carefully, still holding my waist, which is good considering I don’t know if I’m able to stand by myself. I feel dizzy. Cardan lowers his lips to mine one more time. He’s slow and gentle as though he’s worried. There is a slightly metallic taste in his tongue but I don’t pay attention to it. I trace the fine features of his face with trembling fingers. Little by little my senses start to take in the surroundings, the cold. 
The place rumbles with another crack of thunder.
“You have to go back.” Cardan says, barely pulling his lips apart. Go back. I frown, then images of my family crash in my mind. I look around searching for the door, there is something  on the floor. I realize soon those are my clothes. Shit. The tour, Oak. How much time have I been gone?
I dress in a hurry, not really caring if I put on my jersey correctly. He does the same but with the calm an elegance he has.
Panic must be written in my face because he grabs my chin and turns me to him. “Hey. Calm down.” He soothes me. Then his tone changes, turns commanding. His eyes are darker too. “Listen to me. You are going to do exactly as I say, do you understand Jude?”
I want to ask why, but for some reason I only nod. Cardan grabs my hand and pulls me out of whatever room we were in. “You must follow this passage until you find a way to turn left. Then continue until you see a painting of a black snake then turn right, you cannot miss it or you will get lost. Walk straight, and you will be back to a safe area.”
“But-” I start. I don’t want to go alone. And I don’t understand why but I don’t want to separate from him either. Which is nonsense, I barely know him and still...
He interrupts me. “I cannot go with you, I have lost so much control already and I don’t think…” 
“Cardan, I can’t-” 
A growl echoes in his chest and he pulls me closer to him. While his voice is still hypnotizing it sounds threatening now. “You will not tell anybody about what you saw here. Now go if you intend to leave this place alive.”
Then he's gone. I can’t recall if I blinked or turned, because a moment before I could still touch him and now he vanished.
I take a deep breath and start walking. Focus. Go straight, then turn right. Or was it left? 
All passages look the same, some spaces don’t even have a painting or anything at all to help me differentiate them. Sometimes I whip around, thinking I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. Distant rain is the only sound that is a constant companion, but even with it I’m able to hear an echo of every step I give. It unsettles me more with every minute that passes. Although I feel more in control of my body than before, my knees falter constantly and a sensation of tiredness slides over my mind. 
I find the snake painting just as I’d started to think I would be trapped here forever. 
It’s huge, and despite the years that have probably passed the scales still seem to shine. The head is painted in an angle that gives the illusion of the eyes following the person looking at it. It doesn’t help that the candle’s flames also make the snake look as if it’s moving. Stalking. Before noticing, I start hyperventilating. I shut my eyes close and turn away. Something is terribly wrong with me, I need to get out. 
Turning right, I start running. I cover my ears fearing that if I don’t, I’ll start hearing the snake’s hiss behind me.  
I cross an arch made with the same stone and stop right in my tracks upon realizing somehow I’m back at the room where we first arrived. I blink to adjust my eyes to the change of light, since here’s where all the electric lamps are. The room is empty though. 
I’m not sure of what I am supposed to do now. Sit and wait? Go out to the car?
While I’m weighing my options, trying to choose any that doesn’t imply dropping myself on the floor to have a panic attack, I hear murmurs and steps getting closer.
“Jude!” My little brother yells and runs to me. Behind him, Vivi scans me like she’s trying to find something wrong. I straighten my back and put on my best calmed face.
“Where were you?” She demands. “We lost you hours ago! Are you ok? You look pale.” 
Always such a mother hen, I sigh. “I’m fine. I fell behind and lost y’all. Then... I guessed it would be better to just… return here.”
I try not to frown at my last words, since I didn’t fully intend to say them. You will not tell anybody about what you saw here. 
“Jude knows how to take care of herself.” My father adds. I could hug him, but we’re not exactly the affectionate type. So I just flash him a smile.
Vivi does not look convinced but still stands down. “I guess so. The weather did a mess with your hair though.” A flash of Cardan’s fingers pulling from it to gain access to my neck sends a shiver through my body. Had that really happened just minutes before?
Before I can answer, Marrow calls for us. We turn to find her standing next to a big set of paintings that apparently were covered with a curtain. “You cannot leave without meeting the royal family.”
The canvases are ordered to mimic a family tree. A man with a severe expression rests at the very top. Eldred, I assume. Just by looking at it I feel judged. I can’t imagine what was like to actually live with him. The pictures of his wives look all so different but under them, their sons do have resemblance to one another. A weird sensation tickles my fingers as my gaze continues travelling over the paintings. Finally, I get to the last one. Once more, I cover my mouth to avoid  an undesired sound.
Staring back at me I see Cardan. 
I don’t care if it’s a painting, there is no way I could not recognize those features. Those lips.
“A big family, I see.” Madoc’s words seem so far away.
Marrow hums in agreement. “The Greenbriars always felt proud of their vast offspring. Such attractive sons and daughters. It’s a shame the curse took most of their lives all those centuries ago.” 
“Did he…” I start, without knowing how to continue.
She approaches me to look at the canvas. “Ah, young master Cardan. He was the last one of Eldred’s children.” Then a frown appears on her face. “There was a lot of controversy regarding his death. Some say he died because of the curse, some others say he was the curse. The books all have different versions.”
“That sounds creepy as fuck.” Vivi says. 
“Creepy as fuck.” My brother mimics her, the thoughtful expression on his face makes him look ridiculous. We cackle as Vivi shouts Oak he’s not supposed to say bad words.
By the time we get out of the castle the rain has decreased to a drizzle. 
Madoc carries Oak on his shoulders, listening to his non-stop squeals of excitement after visiting what he calls ‘a real vampire hideout’. This time, I don’t find the words to contradict him. Vivi is the first one to get to the car, shouting back some nonsense about the Greenbriars needing a protection hex. 
The moment I step down from the bridge something shifts in my head and I feel as if I had just woken up. 
Perhaps it is me who needs a protection spell after all. 
Before closing the car’s door, I turn to the castle one more time. Marrow and her husband wave at us from the front gate. 
A dull ache throbs on the base of my neck and my hand flies to the spot. I retrieve it and see blood staining my fingers. 
My heart misses a beat when I lift my gaze to the upper windows, where a tall figure with white shirt and dark hair is looking right back.
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