#v. her dark healing waters ⋯ vis

[bruiisedpetals-a]

𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑦 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑠

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER VII - mágoa

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, violence, bloodshed, history class on lacrimosa yall, nudity, blood, manhandling, slapping, mentions of suicide, gun use, genitalia cupping, gaslighting, anxiety, strong language, threats, misogyny, old social norms, lies-lies-lies, bone crunching, physical violence, suicide attempt

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 12K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VIII

mágoa (n.) a heartbreaking feeling that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions

A pinch of sadness went through Y/N when she heard his words. She gave herself to him. Without any fight, simply accepting that this had to be done for her to build a strong base where he would trust her enough to let his guard down. After this day, her mind was barely holding up, therefore she went down the hill willingly rather than by force.

Her eyes were about to close slowly when he was taking the white sheet on which they consummated their marriage. Although her eyes were narrowed, she saw a significant portion of it being painted red with her blood. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she laid there, boring her eyes to the ceiling of the room rather than perceiving the reality.

The flames of the fire danced and flickered, casting a warm glow upon their entwined bodies. They laid there — he basked in the afterglow, and she in her own sorrow. He was caressing her hair while she laid on top of his naked torso where he moved her to rest just a moment ago, trying to not think about what had happened. She cared no more. Her mind and body were exhausted. Yoongi put a soft kiss on her forehead before he broke the serene silence.

“A bath, shall we?” Her body felt the mix of exhaustion and vulnerability as she went to get up, a soreness radiated in between her legs. Y/N could not wait till she would spread her limbs in the hot spring water. Yoongi gently swept her to his arms and carried her out of the room.

The corridor was softly lit by lanterns, their warm glow casting a gentle illumination. Paper windows filtered the moonlight, creating patterns of soft shadows on the wooden floor as he was taking her to the spring. He hoped it would ease her pain and relax her muscles so he could be a little more selfish and take her again and again until dusk.

Her naked nipples stiffened and reacted to the sudden change of temperature. Yoongi was yet again trying to control his urges to press her against the wall and take her from behind. But he knew better. She was sore, vulnerable, and he knew the time was ticking and soon a bigger wave of realisation would hit her.

The steam from the heated water mingled with the crisp air, creating a comforting atmosphere that embraced them. She could feel the cold wind hitting her body before Yoongi stepped inside the natural bath surrounded by ancient rocks, swiftly setting their bodies into the hot water. Y/N breathed out from the sensation of the water balming her sore muscles. She took a moment to embrace the peacefulness of her surroundings, momentarily forgetting the true nature of her situation and to whom is her naked body pressed to.

Her eyes snapped open when the nerve hit her senses, breath hitching in her throat, tears still struggling to dry on her cheeks. An epiphany. She tried to pull herself away from him, covering her chest when he pushed her against him even tighter.

“None of that, my love,” he whispered into her ear, nabbing at it and pecking her head. “You are finally doing so well, baby,” he spoke, his lips still pressed to her hair.

The soothing warmth of the water against her skin and the unsettling reality of her vulnerability in Yoongi’s embrace — it overwhelmed her from every perspective. His words, though tender, served as a reminder of the power dynamics that governed their relationship. She felt a surge of frustration and sadness, a silent plea for autonomy in a world that seemed determined to deny it and her resilience was coming back to life again.

“Yoongi,-” she said urgently, her voice carrying over the soothing sounds of flowing water. “When is it going to happen?” Y/N inquired, lifting her head up, her eyes searching for answers.

“It is already happening.”

The night had unfolded in shadows and whispers, and as the moon’s soft glow seeped into the bath, reality grew more elusive.

The infamous Yakuza, believing themselves five steps ahead of the Min clan, found their fortunes turned by the cunning moves of the young Kkangpae. The cards he tossed when luring out the enemy’s leader were not in their favour. Cut the snake’s head and it will die; Yoongi wished to see them all perish.

The headquarters of the Japanese clan, once a fortress of power, now stood vulnerable in the absence of its leader. Yoongi’s calculated manoeuvres had left them exposed, ripe for his seizing. From Japan to the north of Korea, with Hong Kong looming as the next conquest, the throne beckoned to him now.

The Kkangpae had played a dangerous game, and the stakes had never been higher. He realised this when the enemy held his beloved, poised to snuff out her life with vengeance. That urgency drove him to expedite matters. Within an hour, united soldiers of the Min and Wang houses moved to three different locations, armed and prepared for the Yakuza’s onslaught.

Yoongi knew the moment they set foot on his territorial grounds their intentions were not congratulatory. But one of the decoy. On that note, another three units secured warehouses, guarding the ammunition and the snow, as they called it, to maintain prosperity.

Y/N had underestimated him and the measures he would take to ascend the ladder. No man had dared challenge the Yakuza and lived to tell the tale, let alone dismantle the cruel syndicate over the span of a single lifetime.

The last of them were already en route to join infiltrators in Fukuoka, where all of Yamamoto’s warehouses lay, along with Tokyo’s headquarters. The command was clear: at the stroke of midnight — fire.

“Is Mother with Bó Chéng and Xiaoli, safe?” Her voice trembled. Y/N is no fool; her gut warned of temporary alliances and impending bloodshed once the Yakuza descended the stairs. This time, between Wangs and Mins. Yoongi never confirmed such a cruel assumption, yet, she knew.

He nodded solemnly, understanding her concern. “They are safe, love. I made sure of it,” he reassured, his voice a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Yoongi’s eyes held a mysterious depth as he spoke, and the weight of his words lingered in the air.

The Kkangpae had unleashed a force that even he hadn’t fully anticipated, and the consequences were now playing out in real time. His vision was clear — The Min clan, a rising phoenix from the ashes, disrupting the status quo, plunging the city into disarray.

For years, no Korean clan had dared confront Japan’s Yakuza, the threat of annihilation keeping them in check. Hence, Korea’s underworld always stood divided until the former Kkangpae Min initiated revolutionary acts against both southern and northern enemies.

As the First World War unfolded, Yoongi’s father saw an opportunity to cover the blood traces left behind by the clans on the battlefield. The alliances formed, the battles fought—all of it became obscured by the larger narrative of global conflict. The revolution against both parties became a rallying cry for those long oppressed by the Yakuza.

The clan of Min knew if they wanted to succeed in this power play, attacking the northern foes was first in order before they could stand a chance over Yakuza and their international allies.

The war with its sweeping chaos and diversion, became a canvas for the Mins to redraw the lines of power. The world may be at peace now, the syndicate clans were nowhere near the fine line. A Cold War between the fighting clans arose and took its place now that they could not horrendously murder each other without drawing the attention of the upper world.

Not today.

His father’s revolutionary act set the stage, and Yoongi intended to finish it. With satisfaction, he watched as the wheels of change turned, irreversible.

The war ended over two decades ago and yet Yoongi still expected the unexpected. Hong Kong sought alliance with Tokyo. A marriage would seal it. Lineage was sacred, heavily valued. The syndicate, with its watchful eyes and ears attuned to the pulse of the underworld, murmured in speculation. Rumour was spread of Wang Zemo’s eldest daughter to be betrothed to Yamamoto Itsuki, the Yakuza’s heir.

Yoongi had just celebrated his 18th birthday when the murmur began. The girl, barely a decade old, promised to the Yakuza. No official betrothal could happen as she was still too young to be wedded.

Years went by and when she reached the 18th year of her life, Yoongi anticipated another bloodthirsty war to begin now that the arrangement could take place. But nothing happened. Holding her portrait in his hand, looking at the black and white photograph with a fresh cut on his eye, imagining how cherry red her lips must be and how he is going to drown in her eyes once he sees them for real. He saw opportunity, a golden ticket in this dangerous game.

Therefore, before her twenty-first birthday, Yoongi was already ahead of Yakuza, sipping tea with Wang Xiaoqing, the Triad leader’s older sister. His intention was clear from the beginning — the young gal in the portrait, undyingly beautiful.

Instead of wielding guns and knives at the northern enemy in China he was resolute in overthrowing the Triad by this calculated move of taking her and creating a powerful alliance in order to end Yakuza’s reign. He could have had any woman from his clan, but no woman ever spiked his interest as much as Wang Y/N.

He settled his mind on the path God presented him. He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The men of the Wang Triad, fiercely loyal to their established traditions, would not willingly follow an outsider — with or without war. To secure his grip on the Triad’s allegiance, Yoongi needed more than a coup; he needed a legitimate claim to leadership.

He played his pieces, aiming for the Triad’s allegiance. The young Kkangpae began his cockiness by taking the young woman to keep at his premises right before Yakuza would announce the engagement and followed the union.

Yoongi, the architect of this narrative, understood the power of perception. A move that seemed personal had far-reaching implications in the complex web of alliances that governed the criminal underworld.

The elderly woman was the smartest human he ever met. As she also held a mutual disdain for the house of Yamamoto that ran deep, an animosity fuelled by years of oppression and subjugation. The Yakuza’s supremacy over other clans, their unabashed acquisition of shares, land, and women, irked her. It was a political dominance that had cast a shadow over both Seoul and Hong Kong’s criminal underworld for far too long.

A shrewd strategist that Wang Xiaoqing was, recognised the potential for a successful revolution in Yoongi’s carefully laid steps — the blockade of docks, the seamless integration into the Yakuza’s business affairs, the subtle theft of opportunities, and the meticulous infiltration into their other operations—it was a game of chess played with finesse. Lastly, his determination on not letting Wang’s oldest daughter marry into Yakuza and form an alliance that could be a threat to his own kin.

Taking her niece would be a move that went beyond the surface, resonating with the desire to break free from the chains that bound them to the Yakuza’s dominance. Nobody dared to take what Yakuza claimed as theirs. Until him.

In the dimly lit warehouse where he was solely because the Luen’s shipment of ammunition to Taiwan got rampaged by Yakuza soldiers. Their attack on the shipment had disrupted his plans, leading him to intervene personally.

The captured Yakuza soldier, now a pawn in this unexpected confrontation, was brought before Yoongi for interrogation. The improvised setup within the warehouse served as the backdrop for the intense questioning that aimed to unveil the motives behind the Yakuza’s brazen attack that Yoongi already knew. It was their way of sending a message, a warning to the clans to not climb the ladder too high.

However, that’s not what aches Yoongi’s heart whenever he remembers that night. It was her, clad in her signature red qipao, in a dishevelled state, most likely chilled to the bone, lip split open.

The date on which Yoongi would arrive to collect her was settled two weeks from that day, but there she was, standing in the warehouse, most likely looking for a shelter from the cold.

In the silent exchange, Yoongi saw a glimpse of vulnerability and strength, a combination that both intrigued and captivated him. She looked straight to his eyes for what felt like hours without flinching away. The spark he felt that ignited between them in that warehouse would become the member of an unspoken understanding—a realisation that love, in its rawest form, had found its way to his heart.

He recalls how his breath stammered when he saw her for the first time. No matter how long she’s been running, no matter how the chilly wind ruffled her hair — she looked magnificent. All the love letters scribbled down that he had never sent to her were hidden in the drawer of his desk. He might give them to her one day once she will be ready to reciprocate his love.

Yoongi was convinced that it was destiny that she came upon the warehouse, as if God was leading her to his arms, where she belongs. At least according to the young leader of the clan. Y/N’s arrival to his land was unexpected and it certainly changed the whole trajectory. And that was one of the pivotal moments when he decided to rethink his steps.

This unforeseen encounter planted the seeds of a different kind of connection, one that deviated from the cold calculations of alliances and power and dark intentions loomed over the young Kkangpae Min.

Yoongi used to see marriage as a means to an end, a pragmatic choice made in the pursuit of power and influence. The emotions that typically accompanied such unions were to be set aside in favour of the greater goal at hand.

But her presence started to overshadow the original intentions of the alliance. How she fought him, stood her ground — all just made him want her more. As he found himself captivated by her company, the cold calculations of the former plan began to waver and he was decided.

The Yakuza’s move was thought-through, he did not expect any less—a challenge issued with violence and bloodshed and in the midst of celebration, chaos erupted. Min with his bride long gone to safety. Masked assailants, clad in the insignia of the Yakuza, stormed the hotel and one would think this is the end. But this conflict was nowhere near the grand finale.

At the time of the awaited attack of Yakuza men, echoes of screams of agony and crackling fire were far too loud. A clear symbol of the arising power of the Min clan. The two generations of Yamamoto's men, father and son, now lay as nothing more than ashes.

The night, which should have been a tender moment of intimacy, became the stage for a chilling chess move. As Yoongi and Y/N shared the vulnerability of their union, the Min clan, under his orders, descended upon the Yakuza with a relentless fury.

The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed in the night, a symphony of retribution that played out against the backdrop far away from their marital chamber. While Yoongi claimed the innocence of his wife, he orchestrated the downfall of those who dared to challenge his dominion.

The puppeteer of this grim performance, ensured that their legacy was erased, their power dismantled, and their grip on the criminal underworld shattered. In just one night, the war that lasted years ended.

Infiltrating the Yakuza was a meticulous plan, and his true intentions were hidden even from those closest to him. As the Min clan annihilated the Yakuza in cold blood, the night drew to a close and only those who would bend the knee and pledge loyalty were spared.

The night had witnessed the birth of a new order and the song of the dead echoed whilst the former empire shattered into pieces.

Morning arrived with a soft glow, painting the room in shades of muted light where Yoongi’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her naked back.

“Breakfast is ready,” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. She nodded, wordless.

The table boasted an array of dishes, their enticing aroma filling the air. Yet Y/N could not eat yesterday nor today, the food simply did not go down her system.

Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on her from time to time, while he was reading today’s paper the maid delivered together with the breakfast. His eyes, like a silent observer, bore witness to the aftermath of a night. Y/N’s eyes were bloodshot, cheeks stained with dried tears, her neck bearing bruises. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her, yet he held onto the hope that all would settle now.

Yoongi sighed and reached into the pocket of his black vest.

“I have not read it,” said he once they finished eating breakfast and sat down in the lounge room. Y/N’s eyes moved to meet him, anticipating his next step. She did not want to speak to him. She did not want to look at him nor she did not want him to look at her.

“I appreciate that,” said Y/N, avoiding his eyes. Yoongi sighed again, reluctant to relinquish leverage over her, yet compelled to address the matter at hand. Deep down, he hoped the contents of the letter would bring her solace, perhaps even warmth towards him. Now, he stood as a fool in the pouring rain.

He carefully handed the letter, urging her to open it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, tearing open the envelope and extracting the yellowed paper within.

She looked at Yoongi one more time, and when she saw him spreading out the newspapers, she was glad he gave her at least some degree of privacy. Her eyes fell upon the cursive symbols of her beloved aunt’s handwriting.

The memories flooded back as Y/N read the words on the aged paper, transporting her to a time when life was less complicated. Yet, she remembers clearly the moment when the complications started to appear. She read the words, screaming at her whilst detailing Wang Xiaoqing’s declining health, her world halted.

The air grew heavy with a mix of medicinal scents and the weight of impending loss. Her aunt, a pillar of strength, lay frail on the bed, and Y/N’s heart ached at the sight.

As she recalls her last moments with her while reading the neatness of her handwriting Y/N finally sees the truth. Her breath caught in her throat, vision blurred by tears. Clutching the paper tightly, she read the words repeatedly, struggling to accept their meaning.

“I need you to understand, my dear,” her aunt’s voice, weakened but filled with determination, echoed in the room. 

“There are things, things I have kept from you to protect your mind and soul.”

Her aunt reached for her hand, the warmth of their connection grounding them in that vulnerable moment. The intricate dance between clans, the bloodshed, and the sacrifice her aunt had made to shield her from the harsh realities of their world.

“But it seems that my judgement was clouded—” In that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if bracing for the revelation that would reshape the very foundation of her understanding. The vulnerability in her voice resonated with the unspoken sacrifices made for the sake of protection. Or at least that is what she thought she was doing by allowing Min Yoongi to take her into custody and use her as a leverage over the clans in negotiation of dominance.

“We do not have much time I fear,” her aunt continued, urgency etched into her every word. Y/N held her hand tightly, afraid to let her go.

“Once you burn me to ashes, I need you to run and not look back, Kai will help you get away—” a strong cough interrupted her speech and Y/N rushed to get her some tea to ease her throat. A bony hand landed on her forearm, stopping her in motion. Her eyes watered again at the sight of the state God let her aunt get in. Her fingers were turning purple and Y/N knew what that means. Oxygen was leaving her body and the end was near.

“Auntie—” she went to protest, at the time not understanding why she needed to run in the first place. But she listened carefully to her aunt closely when her sore and painful voice mapped out her next steps.

Back then Y/N wanted to believe it was a sacrifice born out of love and the desire to break free from the cycle of violence that had ensnared their family for too long. And her aunt presented her a chance to not be in the middle of the fire.

Peace was a fragile illusion. Min Yoongi may be a titan among the outside world, yet within the confines of his own home, his dominion was about to face its greatest challenge.

Yoongi, engrossed in his reading, spared his wife the intrusion of his gaze, allowing her the solitude to grapple with the weight of her aunt’s revelations. Not having a clue what the dying woman could write.

The revelations echoed in the silence of the room, and when Y/N finally looked up from the letter, her eyes met Yoongi’s. The vulnerability in that moment transcended the complexities of their current situation, forging an unspoken false connection on his side rooted in pain and the unravelling of hidden truths. In a burst of fury, she lashed out.

“You’re a fucking liar.”

An anger radiated from her, the heat rushing to her head. Yoongi’s eyes locked onto hers; he didn’t flinch at the sudden eruption of anger — it was nothing he didn’t already get used to. Instead, he folded the paper with deliberate care, setting it aside.

“Am I?” His response was laced with a hint of amusement, a calculated provocation that stoked the flames of her anger.

The contents of the letter, as it seems, are not what he hoped for. Nonetheless, he wondered whether he would fight this battle. Sooner or later she would learn the truth. It’s the timing that was not perfect and he knew it’s going to be hard to put the fire out.

“You manipulated her into agreeing—” Yoongi sucked the inner side of his mouth and released it with a loud click of his tongue, trying to compose himself for what is to come as she now knows.

“—with a choice, dove. A difficult one, yes, but she made the decision on her own accord,” Yoongi interjected, his voice maintaining a disconcerting calmness.

“You lied to her!” A wry smile played on Yoongi’s lips as he met her accusing gaze. Y/N was hanging on the farthest end of the branch and soon enough she would fall. Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his calm demeanour a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her.

“She would not have approved if she knew of your intentions!” Yoongi leaned against a nearby table after he stood up, his gaze unwavering. He realised that what she is implying is true. But he also knew that this is not the world where Wang Xiaoqing would be stupid enough to give him her hand. She knew what it would mean.

“Power comes with a price. Your aunt understood that and made the necessary sacrifice.” Y/N scoffed at his words, incredulous. Yoongi’s response was a wry smile, a silent admission of guilt that he would never voice out.

“And what of my sacrifice? What about the life I wanted, the choices I never got to make? You took them from me!” He reached out to her, his fingers gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. Yoongi looked at her trembling lips and caught himself thinking how good they felt against his last night.

Y/N, caught between anger and grief, searched Yoongi’s eyes for any sign of remorse. Yet, all she found was the unwavering resolve of a leader who had chosen duty over sentiment.

Her patience was wearing thin, her anger boiling over like a cauldron on the verge of eruption.

“I did what I had to do for the survival of our clan—” she struck out, her hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap. Her whole body was shaking with grief, anger and hatred.

Yoongi’s head pivoted slightly at the sudden intrusion he did not expect. Yet, even as she railed against him, hitting him repeatedly, Yoongi remained steadfast. All the curse words she sent his way were only bypassing him. He knows she wouldn’t do this in normal circumstances. But to stop and think for a second — there were never normal circumstances to begin with.

“You took everything from me!” Her voice was a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for justice in a world gone mad.

“I gave myself to you!” She screamed furiously. Yoongi’s eyes, usually calm and collected, flickered with rage. She glared back at him, tears streaming down her face. The reality of her situation sunk in, and Y/N felt a profound sense of betrayal.

“You’re fucking liar Min Yoongi. You never fucking needed to-” Yoongi’s jaw tensed, the anger in his gaze burning like a smouldering ember. His calm façade cracked, revealing the storm of emotions within while she aimed to hit his face again.

“Are you done?” He forcefully grabbed her wrists, stopping her, holding them tightly while he pulled her towards him. She shook her head, trying to break free from his grasp to make more damage. Y/N refused to yield.

“Fucking listen to me, Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his voice a low growl.

“Yes, I lied to your aunt because I knew where your ambitions lay and where she wanted you to be.” His grip tightened as he continued, his words cutting through the charged air. She shook her head in disbelief, struggling to break free from his hold as he violently pulled her back.

“I knew she would never give me her blessing to marry you!” Y/N’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and realisation of his confession, confirming the contents of the letter.

“So you fucking tricked her,” she gritted through her teeth. Min Yoongi never intended to send her overseas, just like he promised the dying woman. All this time, she blamed her aunt for choosing her path, unaware of Yoongi’s manipulations.

“I could have slaughtered the whole Triad. Think of this as me being merciful.”

The weight of his words settled in the room, a heavy silence following his chilling revelation.

“You even fooled my father into thinking this is all my aunt’s doing,-” she whispered unbelievably, her voice laced with a bitter realisation. Yoongi’s expression remained impassive, but the truth lingered in the air like a haunting melody.

“You made a promise to her that I will be safe overseas, so why am I here, Yoongi?!”

“Because I fucking fell in love with you!” he exclaimed, his voice rising, his eyes searching for any kind of emotion that would show that she understands his doings. Of course she does not understand, after all, he does not understand how much damage he has done either. He is selfish and he always will be.

“You betrayed her trust!” Y/N’s eyes, on the other hand, searched for any sign of remorse, any glimmer of the man she thought she knew. He exhaled heavily, the weight of their tangled destinies pressing down on him.

“It was either marrying you and having a legitimate claim or bloodshed. Would you rather the worse option?” Y/N’s gaze wavered between anger and hurt, her surroundings fading away.

“You justify cruelty with some deluded sense of righteousness,” she said, her voice strained from the last vestiges of her strength.

“You’re part of this world, part of my world, whether you like it or not—”

“This was never about Yamamotos right?—” She looked right into his eyes, scanning the angry red scar that ran up in his brow that he now raised at her remark.

“—you are going to break the alliance with my father the first chance you get. That is what you mean by legitimate claim, am I fucking right Yoongi?!” He clenched his jaw, frustration etched on his face. Y/N had seen through his carefully constructed façade.

“You only fucking love yourself and your fucking clan!” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words but whence she decided that getting physical with him again is the answer — he snapped.

His hand forcefully clutched her jaw in a tight grip, just like when she first opened her eyes under his imprisonment. The wall met her back and she gave out a painful yelp. He closed the proximity to her face and spoke the words right to her ear while watching her struggle to get out of his grip.

“One of the things I love about you, dove, is your cleverness. But this little clever girl needs to finally learn her place,” he said, his words seething with control. She was whimpering in his grip that got tighter and tighter with each word he uttered.

“I took you for a wife so when I blow the brains out of your Sire’s head and take over his Triad, I will be unopposed, that is the truth, now—” Y/N’s eyes widened in both shock and fear as Yoongi’s words penetrated the air around her.

The force of his grip on her jaw made her gasp, the pain radiating through her face. The cold, unyielding wall at her back provided no escape, and she felt a surge of helplessness as his words sank in.

“Yet, out of the love I have for you, I have ensured your lovely sister will have her place within our clan and your mother will be taken care of. It’s the little boy you are afraid I might hurt, innit?” The mention of her family sent a shiver down her spine, and her eyes flickered with a mix of dread and anger.

“Well let us say, if you shall not force my hand by your shenanigans, I shall spare him.”

“You are a psychopathic monster,” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible as his grip was not allowing her to speak properly. He chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“You were not saying that when I spilled all my love inside of your cunt, claiming you” his lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, cupping her womanhood with his free hand.

“You have no choice in this, dove. You are mine, bound by vows and blood. And when the time comes, you shall see I am the only one who can protect you—” his lips dangerously close to her ear now moved, laying a small peck on her wet cheek, right under her eye.

“—to provide for you,” his lips brushed upon her skin moving to lay another peck to her forehead. Tears streamed down her face.

“—to love you.” He finished, pressing his lips to hers.

“I wanted you from the very beginning. It was always you,—” She narrowed her eyes, a fire igniting within her despite the fear. The taste of his lips lingered on hers as Yoongi pulled away, his eyes fixed on her tear-stained face.

“—even if I would slaughter every member of your Triad, I would have spared you, my love.”

“I would rather die,” she spat at him, a small act of defiance in the face of his cruelty.

“Death is easy, dove. It’s the living hell I can create for you and those you love that should terrify you—” He traced a finger along her jaw, a sickening smile playing on his lips.

“Even the strongest wills can be broken, I still have some ways to make you obey and be a dutiful loving wife.”

“I will not become the submissive wife you fantasise about.”

But the scarred leader had a trick up his sleeve that only time will show whether she will need that kind of fixing.

“You are a challenging one, and I do love a good challenge. However, your defiance is only temporary,” he smirked, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Y/N recoiled, a sense of dread settling in her stomach. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his plans, something insidious lurking beneath the surface. The scarred leader had shown a glimpse of a darker side, a side that made her shudder with apprehension. The voices in her head never left and now they were louder than ever.

“In the end, you will crave me,” his words echoed, each syllable dripping with a sinister certainty. “—And what a good life I can offer. I have all the time in the world to make you mine. Soul and mind.” He continued his monologue. She clenched her fists, steeling herself against the onslaught of doubt and fear.

“If my mind does not betray me, I told you what will happen once you disobey me again, did I not, dove?” her heart pounding in her chest as Yoongi’s words sent waves of revulsion through her. She fought against the oppressive grip on her jaw, her eyes ablaze with a mixture of defiance and fury.

“How exactly did I disobey you, hm?” she demanded, her voice rising with each word.

His chuckle resonated in the room, and he released his hold on her jaw. Y/N slumped against the wall, gasping for a deep inhale of air. The tears blurred her vision and her head seemed too heavy. Yoongi took the little bell on the side table, turning to Y/N, a cold glint in his eyes.

“I assume, the last time I disciplined you, was not simply enough.” He carried on without taking her comment to notice. She struggled to regain her composure, wiping away the tears that clouded her vision.

His fingers toyed with the small bell in his hand, and the room seemed to constrict around her.

The sound of the bell echoed, a disconcerting prelude to what awaited her. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, a chilling determination evident in his demeanour.

“It seems you need a little reminder.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with the fear of the unknown. She heard footsteps approaching the room and her head swiftly turned to follow the sound.

“Yoongi—” she pleaded. He remained unmoved. The approaching footsteps grew louder, and a sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach.

“I hope this will be the final lesson, dove,” Yoongi said, the edge of cruelty evident in his voice. When she saw him reach for the walther in his holster, her pleas became more urgent.

“I am sorry, that’s what you want to hear right, Yoongi? I am sorry!” she implored, her voice shaky with a blend of terror and disbelief. “I will do whatever you want, just don’t—”

But her words were cut short as Yoongi’s hand gripped the handle of the walther. The room seemed to close in around her, the walls similarly closing in on the remnants of her hope. His gaze remained cold, his resolve unyielding as extended hand with the gun in his grip aiming for the incomer sliding the hanji paper door open.

Yoongi’s gaze shifted toward the figure entering the room, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Panic surged through her as she redirected her plea, desperately trying to avert the impending danger. His finger hovered over the trigger. He patiently waited till the door slid all the way in before loading the gun that alarmed Y/N even more.

“Yoongi stop, let us talk—” he had to laugh at how quickly he can have her on chokehold, smothering the fire in her. He was having none of it this time.

But before she could act, Yoongi’s grip tightened on the gun, his finger inching closer to the trigger. The figure in the doorway froze, sensing the danger that lurked in the scarred leader’s cold gaze.

Y/N needed to think quickly, her gaze momentarily meeting the poor made, stopping to look her over, she gulped down. It was her. The young girl’s tears were already falling to the wooden floor once she slumped down to her knees and begged for her life, just like she did months ago near the koi pond that she almost drowned in.

“I told you the Lord has a plan—” Y/N closed her eyes shut tightly, trying to think of a way to save the girl’s life. She owes her so much already and she certainly does not deserve to die because the man cannot handle being rejected each time there’s progress within the messed up relationship he formed in his deluded head.

Her palms pressed to her eyes she breathed the air in. With a surge of determination, she stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest. Yoongi’s gaze bore into her, his cold eyes reflecting the twisted depths of his obsession.

With a deep breath, Y/N made her move. Ignoring the fear that threatened to paralyse her, she closed the distance between them in a swift motion. Her hand reached up to cup his cheek, her touch gentle yet calculated. His gaze locked with hers in a silent battle of wills. It confused him. What does she think she is doing? The scarred leader was too selfish to stop her. Feeling her warm hand on his cheek made him lose his hardened features.

If he could rule with fear and violence, she can rule with the love he desperately wants her to reciprocate, even if it will be pretended. And pretend she planned to.

Y/N was not stupid, she knew he would not believe her one bit that she is going to be a pitch-perfect mafia wife overnight. But gradually, till she can think of a way to leave. A plan was already writing itself in her conflicted mind. For now, she needed to get the girl out of danger, and if she had to forget about where she was standing and with whom, she would. For a life that can be spared.

And then, without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss. It was a gamble, a risky move born out of necessity. But in that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a deceitful embrace, Y/N prayed it would be enough to distract him.

Her heart raced with adrenaline as she poured every ounce of determination into the kiss, willing him to succumb to the illusion of affection. She could feel the tension in his body, his grip on the gun momentarily faltering as she moved her lips against his.

Yoongi was too taken aback to react differently than kissing her back as if this was the last time he was. She used his own tactics against him, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed to pay off. Winning this round with flying colours as the gun with a swift motion was sent clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the room.

When Y/N finally parted from him, her eyes filled with determination, Yoongi chuckled softly, the façade of affection slipping away. Yoongi took an estranged string of hair and tugged it behind her ear.

“I told you your defiance is only temporary.”

“And you just proved your threats are empty.”

She refused to let his words intimidate her, to succumb to the fear that threatened to consume her. She knew Min Yoongi’s weakness all too well.

Her — it was her greatest advantage now, and she planned to use it to its fullest extent. Her defiance was far from being temporary. One step at a time; she planned to win.

Y/N watched the falling snow from the Cadillac’s window, her mind swirling with the events that had transpired. Min Yoongi sat beside her in stony silence, still seething from their confrontation. He dragged her to the car kicking. His pride was wounded by her defiance. Again. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter, of breaking under the weight of his control.

This was not the right time for her shell to crack. He needed her composed and Y/N was not feeling like a puppet he has had made of her these past months. He overstepped the line with the knowledge that and in their world, truth can kill.

He dusted his coat and hat from snow once they stepped inside of the hotel they vacated not even a day ago. Y/N felt small once she walked by his side, not because he would intimidate her, that was never the case — her eyes creeped at the hallway where her body was pressed to the wall, strong hand on her neck.

A sense of unease settled over her. She raised her own hand to touch the still sore space covered by the neckline of her qipao, white fur coat draped around her shoulders.

His sharp eyes noticed it and for a fleeting moment he paused, his gaze softening imperceptibly as it fell upon Y/N’s form. Despite the coldness that often characterised his demeanour, there was a flicker of something akin to remorse in his eyes.

That is where Min Yoongi’s remorse lies. He did not regret taking her as wife, he did not regret all the lies, damage and deception he employed to achieve so, what he did regret was her getting physically hurt. He regretted listening to her sister when she said he should stay with the guests instead of attending to you. But as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed, and Yoongi’s expression hardened once more.

She followed him into the dining hall, her steps hesitant as they walked side by side. The room erupted into applause once they stepped in. The sound echoing off the walls in a cacophony of celebration of the genocide they just performed.

The celebration was a mockery of the destruction they had caused, the lives they had taken in the name of power. Y/N scanned the faces in the room, searching for her family among the crowd. Relief washed over her when she saw Xiaoli, hanged on the arm of Kim Taehyung; she nodded, a silent reassurance that they were safe.

There is never a guarantee that ordinary civilians won’t be harmed as that’s how clan’s limit the possibility of attacking the headquarters which were strategically located in the heart of the city. Therefore, no assurances that innocent lives would be spared.

Her steps remained hesitant as they made their way through the crowded room. Number of men and women patted him on his back, congratulating him on the plan he orchestrated worked just right. And as she cast a glance at Yoongi, she couldn’t help but wonder whether they all would ever find redemption for the sins they had committed.

Yoongi raised his hand once they got in the middle of the dining hall, attempting to silence everyone. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to him expectantly.

But Y/N paid him no mind, her thoughts consumed by the dark undercurrents that lurked beneath the surface. She did not bother to pay attention to her so-called husband’s propagandic words to his blind worshipers. The voices in her head would outcry him or anyone else. For what little her ears caught, there was a sense of pride in his words, a conviction that they had done what needed to be done to protect their interests.

“We must remain vigilant,” he concluded, his voice a warning. “Our enemies may have been vanquished, but new threats will always emerge. We must stand together, united in our resolve to protect what is ours.” Yoongi’s gaze lingered on Y/N possessively. When his gaze fell back to the crowd, he saw his right hand man making a way to the centre, rather urgently.

“Excuse me,-” Yoongi murmured to those around him, his tone clipped as he stepped away from the crowd. He had little time for idle chatter, especially in the midst of their celebrations.

Namjoon’s expression was grave as he spoke, his words measured and deliberate. “There’s been a development,-” he began, his voice becoming too low to understand what he was saying. Y/N’s eyes flickered to all of them before they landed back on Yoongi and still whispering Namjoon.

Yoongi’s expression remained unreadable as he listened to Namjoon, his features schooled into a mask of stoicism. But as Namjoon’s words sank in, a flicker of something dark and dangerous glinted in his eyes. As Yoongi turned to face her, his gaze piercing and intense, she could not predict what was going to happen.

The scarred leader encouraged everyone to continue with celebrations with a big smile plastered on his face, his voice ringing out with false warmth and cheer. But the persona was long gone once he turned to face the group of his most trusted man.

“Tae, take Xiaoli to her room and come back, the rest, office now—” Yoongi ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

“I’m going to see Bó Chéng and Ma, Yoongi.” She announced, interrupting the stream of his command. Yoongi’s gaze snapped to Y/N, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before his expression hardened once more. He attempted to make a reasonable argument why she cannot go, but there was none, only his selfishness remained. Clutching his fist tightly, he spoke.

“Thirty minutes, then I need you downstairs.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he struggled to contain his frustration. Y/N nodded curtly, she knew that this is a rare occasion that he would agree without a fight.

“Dove?” Yoongi called when she turned to walk away. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing as he searched for the right words. The darkness and possessiveness that loomed over him overshadowed any kind of sincerity he wished he would say instead.

“Do not make me come and get you.”

The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Yoongi sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he listened to the reports from his subordinates. The news of Chanyeol’s demise lingered in the air like a dark omen, casting a shadow over the room.

“Are you certain it was a suicide?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the tense silence of the room.

“They found him hanging in his cell,” Namjoon replied, his tone cautious. “No signs of foul play.”

Yoongi’s mind raced with questions. The absence of a trial meant that Chan-yeol’s fate had been sealed, his sins catching up to him in the most final of ways.

“His death was inevitable,” Yoongi murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. “But it serves as a reminder to all who dare to betray us.”

“He fucking deserved to have his balls cut off, Hyung.” The youngest member of the board spoke with venom in his voice. The sentiment was shared by many in the room, but Yoongi knew that dwelling on revenge would only serve to distract them from their true objectives. Nonetheless, he silently nodded in agreement.

“Are all our goods secured, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi shifted the conversation to more practical matters, his focus unwavering despite the weight of recent events. Their operations could not afford to falter.

“They’re secured, Hyung,” Jimin replied, his tone confident. “We’ve taken the necessary precautions to ensure our assets remain protected.”

“Good,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “We can’t afford any mistakes. Keep a close eye on everything, and report any unusual activity immediately—”

“What is it, Yoongi?” The doctor’s voice resonated throughout the room. He was sitting near the fireplace, nursing a glass of liquor in his hand, his eyes sharp and thin while looking at his brother and leader.

The moment he stepped inside of the hotel, Seokjin knew something had happened that got under Yoongi’s skin. The only reason is still absent in this room, her time slowly waning.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards Seokjin, his brother’s interruption breaking the flow of their conversation.

“We have matters to attend to, Seokjin,” Yoongi replied, his tone clipped but not unkind. “Important ones.”

“Rumour has it—” he stood up, ignoring the scarred boy’s dismissal he had known forever, Seokjin’s eyes bore into Yoongi’s, a silent challenge passing between them.

“That while you celebrate the victory, your own household is on fire.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in Seokjin’s words.

“So tell us what is bothering you.” Despite his efforts to maintain his composure, he couldn’t entirely mask the unease that gnawed at him. Reaching the spot where his bride imprinted her hand earlier, he spoke.

“She knows Wang Xiaqing did not give me any blessing to marry her.” He could visibly see his right-hand man pressing his fingers to the root of his notes and sighing loudly. The youngest could not help but chuckle at his leader’s words as he sympathised with Y/N to most. Not enough to help her out of this situation though.

Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking onto Yoongi’s with intensity. The revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the room.

“And how did she come to know this?” Seokjin’s voice was low, a mixture of concern and curiosity. Yoongi’s jaw tensed, his expression clouding over with frustration.

“I gave her the letter without reading it first.”

“Yoongi why the actual fuck you would do that?!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension in the room, his anger palpable. Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he turned to face Namjoon, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Because she was making good progress, and I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Yoongi replied. Namjoon’s expression softened his features, reflecting a mix of sympathy and understanding.

“It does not matter, Hyung, she is your wife and that cannot be undone, right?” Hoseok’s voice carried a note of reassurance when he softly smiled at him.

Seokjin held up a hand, silencing the room. His pointing finger aimed at Yoongi next. “Yes, whatever happens, she is still your wife.”

“Yeah, well, go and tell her that, see if she listens.” Yoongi muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration, sinking back to his armchair. Namjoon exchanged a knowing glance with Seokjin.

“Does she know about your plans for her father’s Triad?” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a new layer of tension into the room.

Yoongi’s hand was pinching his lip when the question was raised. His eyes on neither of the men questioning him.

“She figured,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Seokjin’s expression tightened, his gaze narrowing as he processed Yoongi’s words. Namjoon’s eyes widened in surprise, his brows furrowing with concern and the rest of the man reflected the same kind of emotions.

“Hyung, but you just said she made progress, right? All will be good.” Namjoon’s question hung in the air, injecting a note of uncertainty into the conversation. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his mind racing as he considered Namjoon’s words. He had believed that Y/N understood her role in their world, but recent events had shaken that belief to its core.

“I thought she did,” Yoongi murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “But now, I’m not so sure.” The remaining six were staring at their leader, expecting them to fill him in. They needed to know the situation in case little Mrs Min attempted to ruin every ongoing operation by running away.

“Well then, humble her like you always do—” Namjoon began, his tone suggesting a ruthless solution to the problem. The rest of them were not as right with their brother’s drastic intentions. Apart from Seokjin, he knew the young gal enough to know that being soft wouldn’t move her. But Yoongi’s interruption cut through the air like a knife.

“She said my threats are empty.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Yoongi’s words hanging in the air.

“Fucking show her they are not, Yoongi. You’re the Kkangpae, and she is your wife, goddammit.” Namjoon’s frustration boiled over, his voice laced with urgency. They needed her well, alive and here as an obedient and loyal wife.

Yoongi had given her the chance to do so willingly, he had even gone against his trusted men’s words when he suggested she be involved in the business however she liked. He tried to play nice numerous times. In his mind. Not in hers.

Yoongi shall never fully scope how much he took from her. He is selfish enough to never even accept the possibility of letting her go for the better course in their damaged relationship. He always ruled with fear and kindness was only recently added to his vocabulary once he fell in love with her. Deeply, quickly and too hard. Whether he was willing to make that sacrifice, to truly change the way he ruled his empire, remained to be seen.

He wanted to mould her into the perfect wife for a Kkangpae. But he also wished that she would reciprocate his love. He had demanded too much of her, without ever truly understanding the cost. And as he looked around the room at the faces of his most trusted allies, he realised that he was not the only one who had underestimated the strength of her will.

Every one of them thought this matter would be solved after the wedding and she would slowly succumb to what life they offered her. But if there was one thing he was certain of, it was this: he would do whatever it took to keep her by his side, even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of himself in the process.

“I can always fix her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s jaw clenched as he processed the implication behind Seokjin’s statement.

“That shall be the very last option, aight?” Yoongi finally replied, his voice firm despite the doubt that gnawed at him.

They may not have agreed with his decision, but they recognized the weight of his words. And in that moment, Yoongi thought that he had taken the first step towards redemption. Only to fall back down for what he is going to do.

“You underestimate the power of discontent, brother,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It festers, grows until it consumes everything in its path. You would do well not to ignore it.”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, his voice filled with determination.

The door creaked open, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. Fashionably late, she at least arrived after she made sure that her little brother and mother were safe and sound. She has put him down for his afternoon nap, promising him to make a snowman when he wakes up.

The men’s looks met her eyes with a hint of little something Y/N could not interpret.

“What is it?” She asked carefully, scanning their faces.

“We were just discussing some matters concerning the recent events.” Seokjin steadied his voice and fixed his tie.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the tension in the air, but she forced herself to maintain a calm façade. She stepped further into the room, her eyes flickering between the faces of the men gathered around the table.

“Is there something I need to be aware of?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

“Chan-yeol’s dead,” said Yoongi coldly. She swallowed hard, trying to process the information.

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as the men exchanged guarded glances. Yoongi’s gaze bore into hers, searching for any hint of vulnerability. But Y/N held his stare, refusing to show any weakness in front of him or his associates.

Truth to be told, she did not know how to feel. The man was an accomplice in an act not worthy of heaven’s gate after death. The numbness that was creeping in her brain was spreading further and further.

“Does Daiyu know?” She gulped down the question, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the men.

“She knows. There will not be any funeral as he was a traitor to our clan.”

In their world, traitors were dealt with swiftly and without mercy. There would be no mourning for Chan-yeol, no funeral to honour his memory. He had chosen his path, and now he would face the consequences.

Y/N breathed the thick air of the room deeply in and licked her lips, her teeth scraping the bottom lip, a subconscious gesture of anxiety. The world of the Kkangpae was unforgiving, its rules and consequences absolute.

“Well, if you excuse us Buin, we shall take our leave.” Hoseok sensed that it was the right time to flee this room before more private and intense conversations could start between the man and his wife.

“Of course,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She watched silently as the men filed out of the room one by one, their expressions unreadable as they passed her by. Alone in the room with Yoongi, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that they will not have a pleasant conversation.

She turned to face him, searching his expression for any sign of what was to come. Their inner problems were never concluded, rather set on pause and Y/N had a hunch that Yoongi would not let her earlier shenanigans go.

“I want to speak to her, Yoongi.” She knew that asking to speak with Dayiu was a bold move, especially given the recent events and the strained dynamics between them.

“Why?” he asked, his tone betraying none of his thoughts or emotions.

“I want to express my condolences.”

“Condolences?-” he echoed, the scepticism evident in his tone. What kind of condolence she wanted to express when the very same man was an accomplice of such a sinistrous act.

“She lost a husband and the little boy lost his dad—” He knew Y/N well enough to recognise when she was being genuine and when she was attempting to manipulate the situation to her advantage. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of guardedness, perhaps even suspicion.

“Do you want to perchance tell her to run, dove?” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the directness of his question.

“I want to offer my condolences sincerely,” she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “Whatever may have transpired between us should not affect her, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s gaze remained fixed on Y/N, assessing her words and the sincerity behind them. She meant to say that whatever happens in their messed up relationship, Daiyu should never be used as bargain anymore.

“I agree. But you just won’t ever learn, will you?” Their eyes locked, each of them holding their ground in the midst of their complex emotions.

“Yoongi, you ruined my goddamn life. Please don’t expect me to play house with you.”

“I’m offering you the life of a queen and all I ask for in return is obedience, perhaps love in time.” She heard this kind of proclamation way too many times for it to waver her.

“Well, I certainly did not ask for it.” She clasped her hands together, aiming to leave the room and find her cousin.

“Sit your ass back down. I’m not done.”

Y/N froze at Yoongi’s command, her muscles tensing as she slowly turned back to face him. Despite her inner turmoil, she complied, sinking back into the chair with a heavy sigh.

“You needn’t tell her to run. I have no intention to hurt her in particular. She played her part.”

“What else do you want from me, Yoongi?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration and exhaustion, not believing a word he was saying. “Haven’t you taken enough?”

“You needn’t concern yourself with her fate. Focus on your own.” Y/N’s heart sank at his words.

“I want you to see that everything I do, I do for us. For our future.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. Yoongi’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable.

“I won’t be a part of your game anymore, Yoongi,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “I won’t—” a knock on the double door echoed, interrupting her.

Yoongi’s gaze flickered towards the door, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features before he composed himself.

“Come in,” he called out, his voice firm. The siblings came just in time. Afterall, the Kkangpae requested their presence.

Dayiu’s eyes were red and swollen, a testament to the grief she carried, while Kai’s expression was hardened, unknowingly walking to a trap.

She greeted the young Kkangpae with a respectful bow. Kai remained silent, his eyes darting between Yoongi and Y/N.

Y/N watched the interaction, her earlier confrontation with Yoongi momentarily set aside in the face of a new development.

The room teetered on the edge of chaos she obviously did not see coming, and the consequences of this confrontation were poised to reshape the dynamics in their relationship. For good, he hoped.

They exchanged small talk with their leader while Y/N sat there silently. Only now and then did she raise a sympathetic look Daiyu’s way. She did not have a chance to speak with her since Chan-yeol drugged her and sold her out just to betray the very same man months later.

Y/N wished to apologise for every single unpleasant discontent she caused to her because of the fire she burnt Yoongi with.

Leaning in close to Daiyu, Y/N whispered her apologies, her words a quiet admission of remorse for the pain she had inadvertently caused.

She reached out, squeezing Y/N’s hand in a gesture of understanding her desire to live her life the way she wants. Daiyu shares the same ambition now that her husband is no longer in the picture. But that is, of course, not going to be granted.

As she was not paying attention to what Yoongi and Kai are further discussing, a mistake on her part. The next shocked her to the core.

Kai went to stand up just to be sent flying to the ground by Yoongi knocking him down. Y/N’s heart lurched with horror.

“Yoongi, what the fuck!” Y/N yelled, shielding Daiyu with her body.

“Missus Park?” Yoongi called. “I would rather you not stay for the next couple of moments.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at Yoongi’s words.

“You see, Missus Park. I need to show my wife just how much my threats are not empty.” His voice was full of violence and Y/N’s heart pounded too loud and hard. She shot a concerned look at Daiyu, silently communicating her support and urging her to leave the room.

“Both of you. Leave, right now!” With a nod of understanding, Dayiu rose from her seat, casting a final glance at Y/N before quietly exiting the room. Panic surged through her veins as she watched Daiyu leave the room, her gaze fixing on Kai, struggling to stand up and run, his eyes reflecting fear.

Yoongi’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression dark and foreboding. She knew she couldn’t escape his wrath, not now.

“Yoongi, stop!” Her palms blunt against his torso, trying to stop him from proceeding further, just to be pushed back to the armchair, little too hard than Yoongi intended to. His mind and fists aimed at the younger boy’s face. Her words fell on deaf ears as Yoongi continued his assault, his rage unchecked and his fury unleashed.

The sickening sound of bone crunching beneath his blows and painful cries from Kai’s mouth was haunting the room. Yoongi dragged him to the nearest wall and pressed his head tightly to the concrete with his hand. The skin of his knuckles was torn and full of blood. Not as much blood as Kai’s face produced after being beaten numerous times. Kai’s painful cry got louder once Yoongi kept pressing his cheek to the wall.

With each crunch of bone and each agonised cry that echoed through the room, Y/N’s desperation grew. She knew she had to act, to do something to protect Kai from further harm.

“Yoongi, this is all me. Punish me!” She scrambled to her feet, her hands shaking with fear and adrenaline as she desperately tried to intervene, to stop Yoongi from inflicting any more harm on Kai. She did not expect him to take a hit on Kai, he followed his orders thoroughly, the younger boy even pledged his loyalty to him. Y/N's mind scratched his name from the list, another mistake on her part.

Y/N’s voice cracked with emotion as she made her desperate plea, hoping to redirect Yoongi’s rage away from Kai and onto herself. She knew she was risking everything by putting herself in the line of fire, but she couldn’t bear to see Kai suffer any longer.

“I was thinking you know—” said the scarred leader. With each passing moment, the weight of their situation pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her with its overwhelming intensity.

“Forbidding you from this and that won’t work on you nor killing a worthless maid—”

Yoongi’s voice trailed off, his gaze turning back to Kai, whose head was battered and bloodied pressed to the wall, so painful that his consciousness was waning. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for Yoongi’s next move, unsure of what to expect.

“—but hurting someone you care about...” His voice was chilling, the threat implicit in his words. Y/N’s blood ran cold as she realised the full extent of Yoongi’s intentions. He was using Kai as a pawn in his twisted game, manipulating her emotions to bend her to his will.

“His life and blood are on your hands, love.”

She looked into Kai’s eyes, seeing the pain and terror reflected in them, knowing that his fate now rested in her hands. Yoongi did not plan to kill him altogether, he just wanted her to succumb to submission and obedience.

“No, Yoongi, please!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. But Yoongi’s expression remained cold and impassive, his resolve unyielding. She felt as though her soul was being torn apart, torn between her love for Kai and her desperate need to protect him.

She had had enough. She had seen enough. And she was ready to give up her life to save his. Y/N thought about this option way too often lately. Whether her sacrifice would be enough to save Kai from further harm remained to be seen.

In that moment of desperation and despair, Y/N’s mind raced as she weighed her options. The thought of sacrificing herself to protect Kai from further harm consumed her thoughts, and with a sense of grim determination, she reached for the same unfortunate knife that saved her from her father’s wrath before.

With a steady hand, she withdrew the weapon, its cold metal glinting in the dim light of the room.

“Y/N…” he had to look back at her twice before he realised what was going on. Yoongi’s gaze flickered toward her, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes as he realised her intentions. But before he could react, Y/N pressed the blade against her own throat, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve.

“Let him go Yoongi, or I swear I will do it,” she declared, her voice quavering but firm. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they all grappled with the gravity of the situation. Y/N waited, her hand steady against her throat, her gaze unwavering as she dared Yoongi to make his next move.

Yoongi’s hand left the already fractured skull of his wife’s cousin, and Kai slumped down by the wall, grunting loudly. The scarred leader who thought is holding the young gal in chess mate was taken aback by the sudden turn of events.

“I let him go, baby, now put the blade away.” Y/N hesitated, her grip on the sharp letter opener tightening involuntarily.

The rush of adrenaline had drowned out her fear momentarily, leaving her with a fierce determination to stand her ground.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. Yoongi took a step towards her small form. Her eyes crimson red, tears streaming down as she said that.

“We can talk—”

“It always starts with a talk, Yoongi, doesn't it?” Y/N interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion but her resolve unwavering. She held the knife steady, its blade gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Yoongi’s expression darkened, a mixture of frustration and anger flashing across his features. He took another step closer, his gaze locked on Y/N’s determined face. He was afraid and the young leader was only afraid of one thing. Losing her.

“Love, fuck, please I beg you to put it down, baby.” Y/N shook her head again.

“I told you I am your weakness, Yoongi, now you see for yourself.”

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi felt truly afraid. Not for himself, but for Y/N. He knew that he had pushed her too far, that his actions had driven her to this desperate act. And as he stood before her, pleading to put down the knife, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that he had already lost her.

He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control in any situation, but now, faced with the prospect of losing Y/N, he felt powerless. He made her go mad.

As Yoongi reached out his hand towards her, a silent plea in his eyes, Y/N knew she couldn’t back down. It is him who will never learn, not her. Pressing the knife tighter, piercing the first layer of the skin, painting the blade red. A thin crimson line trickled down her neck making Yoongi’s eyes widen in panic. She could not feel a thing through the adrenaline and post traumatic experience from the events that led her to close her mind and not feel, her eyes were still fixated on him and how terrified he looked.

“Y/N, please,-” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. Now it was her who remained unmoved, her eyes blazing with defiance as she held her ground.

“Say it, Yoongi.” She declared. Giving him the taste of his own medicine. And the dark sickening part of Yoongi knew that he had finally met his match. She wanted him to suffer just as much as he made her suffer.

“I’m so sorry, love,-” what he always forced her to say, thinking he is teaching her of accountability, now left his lips. Yet, he could never be accountable for his own actions, could he?

“You’ve taken my life from me!” her voice filled with bitterness and resentment.

“I know,-” he whispered, gulping down the lump in his throat. His voice was heavy with remorse that did not reach sincerity. “And I will spend the rest of my life trying—”

“Fuck you! You are like a broken record, a lying one!” She had seen through his façade, seen the darkness that lurked beneath his composed exterior, and she refused to let him off the hook so easily. But he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of his life haunted by the memories of what he had done.

“I will do everythi—”

“But you will never let me go.”

For a moment, Yoongi was speechless, his mind racing as he grappled with the realisation that he had pushed her too far. There were no words he could say to make her put the blade down from her neck. The absence of words only confirmed hers.

“The only blood I shall have on my hands shall be mine.”

He immediately crossed the distance to reach out - to stop her - to tell her that he would do anything to make things right, but he knew it was too late for that.

“NO!”

With a desperate scream from his mouth, Yoongi watched as Y/N swiftly swiped the blade against her own skin, cutting deeper, painting the qipao embroidered with pink roses and green leaves she was clad in crimson red with her hot blood.

.

.

.

©pennyellee. please do not repost

author's note: sheesh, here we go, i thought that no chapter will be hard for me to write since the last one, but this one did a number on me tbh. But more importantly for yall my beautiful chummers, if you feel like this is the end you imagined for lacrimosa and y/n, I strongly encourage you to not proceed to read the following chapters. Not every piece of media is meant for everybody and I totally respect if the way in which will lacrimosa continue won't be everyone's cup of tea or simply not the trope they wanted. I hold the pen and I love yall, I won't change the outline of lacrimosa I planned because of relativity tho. Therefore, those who are satisfied with this kind of ending - I love you, I'm grateful, and I thank you hundred times that you took the time to read this fic. Those who wants to follow the "couple" a bit more, stay tuned and patient for other chapters. I love you 🫧♡ ︎

shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you all!! ♥

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers 🫧♡ ︎

lots of love, p.

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile

[day-drawn-blog]

Part V: I feel your heart beat in my soul, our futures bound, our bodies known. - I want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

This is part 5. The rest are linked below.

Tags: angst, fluff, eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: Your blood like wine, I wanted in.

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

_____

The day after, you all wandered through the mountain road. You were feeling better. Halsin had ensured you were healing. So did Shadowheart. Laezel looked at you with pride in her eyes. You walked slower than the others. Supported by karlach sometimes. Sometimes Shadowheart. Sometimes carried by karlach. 

Astarion would turn to look at you every now and then. You would look away if he did. It made you blush. 

Did he really tell you those things?

You wanted to talk to him about last night. But there had been no opportunity yet. Everyone was wary. Everyone was tired. everyone was covered in dust and blood. Yesterday had taken a lot out of all of you. You all prayed for a safe journey and looked forward to setting camp. It felt like you had been walking for an eternity. 

So when you found a place at sunset next to a pool of water, everyone was collectively overjoyed. Not only could you all rest, you could all finally feel clean. Karlach and Wyll volunteered to clean everyone's clothes, you were all very grateful. Karlach said she he can dry them real fast. You were curious.

You were looking forward to getting into water.

At nightfall. Laezel dragged you to the pool. Halsin was already there. Everyone had stripped down to minimum inner wear. So you did too. Embarrassing at first but quickly you went in and all was okay. Laezel was very close to you. Lately she has been. It was both flattering and intimidating. But you didn't mind. You liked being liked. Maybe everyone was warming up to you. You enjoyed the feeling. 

Shadowheart appeared with Astarion. 

She was always beautiful. She looked like a goddess right now. Her long dark hair emphasized by her pale bare skin even more. Her body was immaculate. So was yours, you knew. You were all warriors after all. But something about being wanted, made her more attractive you thought. She was confident. She did not yearn. She had it.

Astarion got into the water as well. 

He went to the other side - a little away from you. To join Halsin. Gale joined them too. Shadowheart came next to you and La'ezhel and smiled. "I'm slightly afraid of water. Did you know". Her voice was so melodious. You thought. No wonder she is loved so much.

"Then shouldn't you not be here. I mean, what if you drowned?" Laezel joked or maybe not. You could never tell. "Oh come now. Waist deep water doesn't scare me". Everyone chuckled at the banter. 

You stole a glance at Astarion. 

He was looking at her, smiling, as if proud that she got in the water. Your mistake. What did you expect. Just like any of the other countless times. The only difference was that shadowheart was on your side of the party. She had her arms around you. Maybe they all, got worried yesterday. You appreciated the loving gesture. You felt included and wanted. 

You decided to be kind to her too. 

You would not take away, that which belonged to her. That would be cruel. She was your friend. And ally. And like the others on this journey to salvation, needed your help too. And so you would not turn your back to her. No matter how much it hurt. And it did. It hurt just thinking about it. Familiar pangs. Sharp. Cutting. 

You didn't realize how sad you looked right then. But Astarion did. And he frowned. 

Soon after, among the chatter, you decided it was time to leave. You needed rest. Your aching body was catching up. You expressed that, and got up to leave. Halsin called you out. "let me put the medicine on your wounds before you sleep. Let's get Karlach." You turned to look at him and noticed Astarion looking at you. What was that stare? It was not nonchalant. Searching... fixating.

Odd. 

You suddenly felt acutely aware of how little you were wearing. You felt really vulnerable, and you hurried away. To get Karlach. 

Back in your tent, after Halsin and Karlach had gone, you were finally able to take off your wet clothes. You decided it was a warm enough night to sleep with no clothes under the covers. So you did. 

No one in camp went in anyone's tents without knocking first so you were certain you could get away with such wanton abandon for one night. You could still feel the tingling from the cool waters. You were almost asleep. 

"I got your dry clothes karlach sent" 

Astarion came traipsing in carrying warm dry clothes that karlach had tasked him to take to you. You jolted up. You grabbed the covers and clutched them hard around you. How could you forget?! This guy comes and goes to your tent as he pleases. And that's your own doing! 

"Could - could you give me a moment!!"

He stopped, stared, shocked, blushed and turned around. "Oh yes! Terribly sorry! My apologies. That was very impolite of me" he stood with his back to you "where do you want these?" You gestured to next to him, he placed them down still looking away. You pulled the covers all around. 

"My apologies, again. I will see you later".

"Wait" 

"Hmm?"

"Last night... You said .... " 

He turned to look you in your eyes. Very solemn. You couldn't understand his piercing unwavering gaze. 

"I will.... I promise" 

"Are you really... That grateful to me ...?" 

"More than grateful." His voice was low. 

"You don't need to be. I... don't expect anything in return. I do it because I want to help, you. Everyone". 

"And I want is to repay your kindness." 

You looked down. And smiled a little. It was just that. You helped him. He returned the favor. It was sweet. You should be happy with this. Very happy. This is what you wanted after all. To be needed. To save someone. To help. 

There was silence. 

He approached. "How do you feel, today?" And he took your hand in both of his and kissed it. The way he usually does. A reminder. Of your unspoken contract. You thought. 

"Almost as good as new". 

He was waiting. You knew. You sat down. To get comfortable. He sat in front at the foot of your bed. He kissed your hand again as if he was impatient. Then he kissed the palm of your hand and looked at you. Straight in your eyes, with his lips on your palm. He will not wait anymore you thought. His stare was somewhat threatening. Or maybe you were timid. When he was concerned. 

You decided to tease him. 

You said nothing. He kissed a fingertip of yours and you bit your lip. Enough. You could feel yourself tense up. Down there. Throbbing and pulsating. Curse him. He is truly the devil. But you persevered. You wanted to test yourself. 

When it failed to get the permission he wanted, he decided to make a move. 

He leaned forward and moved closer to you. You were so startled you fell backwards. Down on your bed, propped up by your elbows. He put one arm next to your head and pinned you down while looking down at you. You stared at his beautiful face, blankly.

What is happening?

"You know", he smiled, seductively, "if you keep teasing me like this, I might want.... more ...". He said the last word very softly. But it rang through your body. You felt a pulsation. Another throb. You stared at him in your shock and surprise. Unsure what to do. This was not your plan. Who is this man.

Is this what he does to Shadowheart at night? 

"More?!" Your desire to play the game had heightened. 

He smiled again - a beautiful smile, charming and happy. 

"Why yes, darling. I'm talking about that lovely neck of yours, of course". 

What?! 

All this time, all he wanted...was to bite your neck?! Your neck.... His lips would be ....to your neck...you would feel...his face, next to yours.... It was very... frighteningly.....tempting....

What happened to your aversion of being bit in the neck? Why do you crave it now? What has this man done to you? Robbed you of yourself and your reason it seems. 

You stared at him in disbelief. 

"May I"? 

"I promise to be gentle. I promise....it will feel good." 

For you!!! You thought. What?!

But you were losing yourself in the honey from his words. He is too close. Breathing on you. You could smell him. Feel him. He was slowly getting closer and and closer. You may be getting used, but perhaps you may get something out of this after all! You bargained.

The opportunity to touch him. 

You could touch his hair, his face, maybe even his back.... You felt lust overtake every part of your body as you closed your eyes and looked away, exposing your lovely neck to him. Praying he wouldn't hurt you. 

He lowered himself. One leg between yours. His face fit closer to yours. And you felt his warm breath on your skin. The anticipation was painful. He touched your skin with his lips. You sucked in air and gasped. He kissed your neck lightly like he would your hand. Shivers ran down you. Was this really happening? Your pulse quickened. You were throbbing.

He kissed it a few more times. Soft, gentle, as if savoring it. You bit your lips to stop yourselves from moaning. Why is he doing this? You clutched the bed and the covers tight. You had stopped breathing.

Then he gently pierced his fangs in you. Very slowly. And settled in. You moaned. You knew it no longer matted - he would not notice anymore. Bliss. Because you could now let go of the covers. You grabbed him with both hands. Clutching the shirt on his back.

Fair exchange. You thought.

As he drained you, you let you several breathy quiet moans. And you arched your back. You so wished to be touched. But you knew, he was not making love to you. 

You lifted your leg at one point. And realized, as it grazed him. He was, very hard. He was a man after all, and this was very intimate. Or maybe, feeding made him so happy. You didn't care... your brain was fuzzy. It was pleasurable. You couldn't believe that it was him you were sharing such a pleasure with. You wished this would last a bit though not much because you did love your body. 

Eventually you tugged his hair sharply. And he finally stopped. He let out a sharp gasp of air. Then proceeded to lick the wound. Like he always did. It was not helping. Several times, your throbbing self, your leg brushed past he hard self. It only made you want him more. You tugged at his shirt with both your hands now. He kept kissing. 

His kisses got wetter, louder, till he was obviously just a man savoring his lover and no longer a vampire savoring his prey. He kissed and licked under your ears. Then kissed your ears. Too much. Too close. His face was too close. He kissed your cheek. And licked it once.

Stop. What are you doing. 

But he didn't. He held your face and licked the other side. Kissed your other cheek. It was as if he was so euphoric he had lost control. You moaned louder and louder. Stop. You begged him mentally.

But also, not to.

He continued to kiss your other neck, and ear, down to your collarbone now. And came back up to your chin. Your head was tilted all the way back. You dared not open your eyes lest you lose control too. You were in his complete embrace at this point.

But then, he finally did stop. 

He paused and looked at you. Searching for something in your eyes. You looked at him then his lips. Then his eyes again. He was so close. His nose was almost touching yours. You must be going crazy. You didn't want him to leave yet. And he was right there. You had to. You just did. 

You reached up and kissed him. 

Surprised at first, he kissed you back. Hard. Your head was back in the pillow. He took charge. Moved your hands away and dragged your cover away. Your nipples were probably very hard and visible you thought.

He paused. As if something had just brought him back to reality. He then looked at you. your uncovered half, your nipples. He looked at your naked half body for a second. Then sat back up. Covered his face in his hands for a few moments. Then he got up and ran out. 

Part VI: These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

[minouji]

Avatar 3 Through The Eyes Of Miles Quaritch

TIT᙭Eᑎ SI - ᑭᗩᖇT ᒪISTIᑎG

Tᗯ ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕᗯ: descriptions of violence (canon typical), death, blood & gore, smut (undecided), mentions of genocide.

ᗯOᖇᗪ ᑕOᑌᑎT: ???

STᗩTᑌS: 𝙸 𝙽 𝙲 𝙾 𝙼 𝙿 𝙻 𝙴 𝚃 𝙴

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

. . .

Pandora's Eastern sea is left reeling from the force of the metal blow, her waters are tainted, stained with the blood and gore of vacant bodies; both of beloved clan members and foreign entities. The smoke clears, but the scent of gunfire remains testament to the sheer destruction left in the wake of the battle.

Eywa weeps for her fallen children; taken too soon before their time, ripped from the warmth of their families by hands of cold metal. Children cry for parents who no longer live, lovers are forever doomed to suffer the agony of separation, friends sing the songs of people who now only exist in memory, and mothers wail over the bodies of their deceased children. The fragmented remains of families are left to pick up the pieces after the loss, scrambling for some semblance of the normalcy that was shattered. Though, one day, these deep wounds would heal or fade to scars, the holes would forever remain.

The felled corpse of the once mighty sea dragon, rotting and in detriment, buried in its watery grave, as it deserves to be. But even in death, the sky people continue to bring grief to the people. Its body leaks a venomous ichor, it poisons the water, contaminating the oceans inhabitants until its black vitriol ran through their veins. Sickness reared like a tidal wave upon the sea clans, washing away with it their already sapped strength. Death after death after death spirals the wounded clans into further detriment, pulling the tatters of their foundation from under their feet, sinking them further into the abyss of doom . . .

And then there's Miles.

One of the last surviving products of the Project Phoenix endeavor. The hellish depths of the ocean thought him too bitter and spat him right back out onto the land, left to suffer in the wake of his defeat, and wallow in the sting of his wounds. Once again, he's failed. His plan fell through like a sabotaged jenga tower, and he's been left to crawl out from under the rubble. Defeated.

His ikran, named Cupcake, isn't much better off than he, being torn through by enemy gunfire. Journeying to bridgehead isn't a feasible option, unless he wants to suddenly plummet out of the sky to a watery end when his ride grew too weary to fly. If only he had known what taking refuge for the night on a remote island would lead to - the abrupt 180 turn of events would trigger, a series of hair-raising occurrences that would both plunge him into a dark confusion of his standing point in the fight for humanity's survival, also whilst simultaneously causing him to open his eyes.

 

── ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ──

"тιтχєη ѕι; ωαкє υρ. σρєη уσυя єує�� ѕσ тнαт уσυ мαу ѕєє"

[sacredsanguine]

pillow talk: iii a joesme flash series | parts (i), (ii), (x), (iv), (v), (vi)

They’d planned to spend this night together, likely snuggled close under soft blankets after the heady heat and laughter of a few drinks had faded into pleasant, weightless sleepiness.

Joel had joked over the morning coffee she’d brought him about bringing over a pillowcase of groceries in case Esme forgot to pick something up to supplement the wealth of alcohol, tea biscuits, and condiments currently residing in her cupboards. She’d stuck her tongue out at him good-naturedly and made some silly reply about knowing which tomatoes were best for sauces and which were better for cocktails, thank you very much.

That had been before. Now there’s lightness at her ring finger and betrayal bruising violet in her throat.

Esme raises her head just enough from her kitchen table to pour herself another tumbler full of vodka. Her hand shakes, but the bottle and glass are already blurry. At least there’s no one in her apartments to scold her. The groceries she’d had time but not the will to put away stare accusingly from the counter.

“Santri,” she slurs before the vodka peels her memories one layer farther from painful proximity as it burns down her throat. Against her own will and all the odds drained from the near-empty bottle, a memory lurches to the forefront of Esme’s mind: warm hands in hers, the smell of sun-warmed violets, and a low laugh like pure sunshine.

I’ll teach you to toast in the old Aixoisi way.

Joel’s eyes had sparkled in response to her teasing glance. I’d like to teach you to heal even if you didn’t offer. But that’s a fine deal.

Teach me to heal? What an interesting proposition, Physician. Trying to get me to stop coming to you for every little scrape and sorrow?

A laugh that felt like summer. Never.

Liquid hits Esme’s lap in cold, thin drops. Neither the burn of the vodka or the sweet golden spice of involuntary ginger warm her. Not with the way the ache in her gut insists on freezing her from the inside out.

She’s always been lonely here. Of all lessons to learn from Pheles, how to wake up alone was one of the first. Foolish to think that this would have been anything different.

Glass clinks onto wood; the sound is hollow.

Joel inhales and lets himself slouch back into his chair. The sun will be rising soon and he will be expected along with it, but for now he is alone with his thoughts, half a bottle of wine he’d bought with someone else in mind, and a rosary whose cool, well-worn beads cannot clack loud enough to silence the hurt hurricane in his head.

It spins faster, juggernaut thrown between the deep-set ache of a wound that does not know why it was inflicted and Joel’s automatic desperation to prove himself worthy, if not innocent and maledicted. If not good. His hand flexes—not as if into a fist, but to grasp something already slipped away, fingers digging deep into flesh as in the aftermath of missing a rope already swung by.

The sound that rolls from Joel’s throat is not a growl or a sob but a creak; violets and gold burst from his hands in swirls too soft for what he feels. The incandescence of the unspeakable illuminates green glass as Joel reaches out to turn the label of the bottle away from himself until the crimson paper is just a dark shadow through the bottle and its lightless contents.

Even without the label’s pensive cherub staring beseechingly at him, Joel’s thoughts do not quiet. He sips, alternating between the last of the cherry-red wine and the water beside it, and wonders if he will ever learn how to stop bringing things upon himself. If he will ever stop wanting to.

His dearest wishes repulse their subjects, perhaps with their fervency. His ragged sigh flutters against the hand he raises to press to his face, uncomfortably flushed and swollen from an earlier round of crying.

Joel knows his scripture by heart, but it was not verse that taught him that unfettered desire of something corrupts it.

Joel the student, Joel the healer, Joel the man who strove to be the best he could, the man he had needed as a boy—and none of it enough. Good, but never good enough to keep things in his grasp from withering at the force of his want.

He had always wanted a family. Always wanted a child. Children. Had walked with open eyes and arms into wanting the woman whose name he now cannot speak without feeling something sharp rising to choke him like an unholy noose.

The city loves him like a son, but for all his glory, all his radiance, Joel could not keep something from being too good to be true.

They’d planned to spend this night together. Alone, they share instead an echoing and inescapable emptiness.

[xdaniellexbrisbyx]

Titan War

I. It felt like any ordinary day. Danielle had been taken out on a rental, glad to be out of the Chateau, though her mind tended to drift to one person in particular. It was the slight tremor at her feet that she didn't pay much attention to the warning. The chant that filled the air caught her attention, right before a blast echoed, shards of material coming in her direction, that she ducked quickly into an alley, losing her client. Chaos erupted.

II. Lost amongst the chaos that erupted through the city, only one person sprung to mind and that became her mission. A good wolf would have made her way back to the Chateau, but her heart led her in another direction. Then the whistle that sounded liked nails down a chalk board. Hands press against her ears, trying to block out the noise, but it triggers her wolf, forced to shift, letting her run wild for the first time since she tricked the client to turn her. No one was safe with the young wolf, the animal inside of her in control.

III. With the shift wearing off, Danielle finds herself back in the city, drawn towards the library. It was then that she finally heard from Ricky, needing to find him, to feel his arms around her, to know that he was safe. Telling him where she was. The anticipation of finally seeing him, it takes her a moment to notice the gas around her, a panic seeping into the pup and everything goes dark around her. It is then she can smell another around her, but something feels off.

IV. Danielle is lost in a stage of worry. She cannot contact Ricky through the phone he gave her, and no matter how hard she searches, he is nowhere to be found. The pup tries to guide herself through the war that engulfs the city, keeping to the shadows and out of the sight of others. Survival is something she knew, the city being her home and fighting what had happened years ago. A sudden gust of wind, knocks the redhead back, landing on her ass, trying to catch her breath when once more the darkness consumes her, letting out whimper, calling his name.

V. Exhaustion and fatigue had hit her. Scrapping to find food and water to keep her strength, a desperation clawing at her to continue her search. The bruises and cuts adorned her body, and the stupid collar around her neck making it hard for her to heal. She had to be close to finding him, catching his scent here and there, but never finding him. A brightness catches her glance and in the one second of standing there, it feels like her body is ablaze, glancing down to find a fire along the inside of her right leg. Her hands patting out the fire, letting out a cry from the pain.

VI. Needing to find refuge and another course of action, Danielle finds herself in the safety of a building. The broken cellphone lays in her hands and tears spring at her eyes. Pain still pulsing from the burn, dread fills the small pup. All she wanted was to find him and she failed. A part of her breaking. Too caught up in her feelings, Ricky the last thing on her mind, when the bomb blasts through the building, the floor crumbling beneath her, falling with cement and wood caving on her and she can fee that darkness once more wash over her, this time, death knocking at her door. (temporarily dead)

[promisedneverwrite]

Masterlist

Poppy X Mc

Until Dawn (A Vamp! Poppy and Werewolf Bea fic)

Chapters: I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XIX, XX, XXI, XXII

Bea scanned the empty quad of the school from her vantage point, honeyed eyes glowing an eerie yellow in the dark. She had made the right call in coming later in the day, sensitive hearing gave her the advantage of getting the scoop of being a hot topic which she did not need. Adjusting to the city life was still taking a toll on her as well as the alarming number of midnight creatures in the area. Vampires to be exact, not something she was hoping for really but something she had no control over now that she was here. She just had to be careful, and stay in the sun, something that she just realized she had not done. Nice.

Nightingale 

Chapters : I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV,

It began in the late hours of the night, to Poppy’s knowledge. Sometimes a soft melody accompanied with harmonizing humming and sometimes not. It garnered fear at first, the odd music disrupting her own as she was swimming in her little oasis late at night.

That’s My Baby (Poppy route)

It's the Anesthetics

What a Dork

Our Little Sunshine (poppy x mc parent au collab)

Chapters: I, II, III

Zoey X Mc fic

That’s My Baby (Move Along) 

“I love you, but you smell like pond water.” Bea gives her a sullen look. “Don’t give me that look Beatrice.” Bea sighs dramatically then grins and Zoey steps back warily. “Oh no, don’t you even dare.” Zoey shrieks as she dodges Bea’s lunge hugs. “Stop! Bea, this is a new shirt!” 

Bea, Stop!

Chloe x Mc

Won’t say I’m in love 

Chapters: I, II, III, IV

“Good morning Chloe!” Chloe sighed at the voice, eyes not moving from her phone as she scrolled through her pictagram. Bea Hughes scuttled her way over, with a bright smile that Chloe already knew was on her face without even having to look. But she did, just to make sure, a quick glance up and she was right. It made her eye twitch before looking back to her phone.

“Drop dead, Farmhand.”  

“I am having a wonderful day, thank you for asking.”

Veronica x Mc 

Stream Queens 

“It seems we have a special guest Veronicats. My girlfriend Bea.” Bea laughed then popped up by her smiling and waving.

Pool Maintenance

"Bea, dude you gotta help me?" Ford held his hands together begging as soon as Bea clocked in.

"What now Ford?" Bea narrowed her eyes at his boyish grin. She was looking forward to a easy morning until this.

"Its just a small maintenance job I promise."

Small maintenance job my ass this place is huge!

Requests (*= nsfw)

Titles of fics not yet written are subject to change 😬

Jealousy (PoppyxMc)

Don’t bet your life on that (PoppyxMc)

Knight in Charmeuse Silk (PoppyxMc)

My Bed, My Rules*, My Bed, My Rules Pt2.* (PoppyxMc)

Satisfied* (Poppy x Mc)

You Know (Poppy X MC)

Sunday Morning* (Poppy x Mc)

Three's a Crowd* (Poppy x Mc)

Date Night* (Poppy x Mc)

Girl Who Cried Woof* (Poppy x MC)

I Want Your Attention (Ina x Mc)

Tease*, Tease Pt2.* (Poppy xMc)

Sexual Healing* (Poppy x Mc)

Sometime you have to beat the ladies off with your Purse (Poppy x Mc)

You'll be Alright, You'll be alright Pt. 2 (Poppy x Mc)

Who will catch you now? (Poppy x Mc)

Supernatural*, Supernatural Pt. 2* (Chloe x Mc x Veronica)

Big Bad Wolf*, Big Bad Wolf Pt. 2* (Voppy x Mc)

Reflections* (Poppy x Mc)

She's Mine* (poppy x Mc)

The Afterparty (Poppy x Mc)

I Believe* (Poppy x Mc)

You Know What I See? (Reader x Mc)

---- Writing Break--- uploads will not be in order lol

You Stupid B*tch (Poppy x Mc song fic)

I'll Make It Worth Your While* (Veronica x Mc)

Until The Last Petal Falls (Ina x Mc song fic)

Tell Me What's Real (Zoey x Mc)

Those Hay Bale Throwing Arms* (Poppy x Mc)

Give Me Cuddles* (Chloe x Mc)

Home (Poppy x Mc)

Midnight Mass* (Voppy x Mc)

Protect Me, Pt 2, Pt 3. (Poppy x Mc)

You're doing this on Purpose* (Poppy x Mc)

Kiss me (Ina x Mc)

Yes* (Poppy x mc)

Dear Dad (Poppy x Mc)

Positions* (Poppy x Mc)

Behind closed doors (Poppy x Mc)

Two roads diverged (Poppy x Mc)

Drifting Away (poppy x Mc)

How the tables have turned (Poppy x Mc)

Beggin'* (the orgy skjklsjl)

Slow life (Poppy x Mc)

Your name (Poppy x Mc)

Remember Me (Poppy x Mc)

I want you* (Veronica x Chloe)

Breakfast in Bed* (Poppy x Mc)

Roadside Service* (Poppy x Mc)

Fics Based on Art

Beach Day (Poppy x mc)

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ACOK: Bran VI (Chapter 46)

And he heard it again, clink and scrape. It brought him to his feet. His ears pricked and his tail rose. He howled, a long deep shivery cry, a howl to wake the sleepers, but the piles of man-rock were dark and dead.

x

His brother sat back on his haunches and lifted his voice in a ululating howl, his song black with mourning.

The horn that wakes the sleepers, he thought. - Jon V, ACOK 

Mmkay.

Nice of the author to tell us howling means danger and mourning, coming off that Catelyn chapter where everyone in Riverrun was howling.........

+.+

His brother came sliding through the trees, moving almost as quiet as another brother he remembered dimly from long ago, the white one with the eyes of blood.

Ghost appeared beside him, his warm breath steaming in the cold. In the moonlight, his red eyes glowed like pools of fire. - Jon III, ADWD

Ghost’s eyes look like fire & blood. 

+.+

Snarling, he paced back and forth in front of the gate, then threw himself at it once more. It moved a little and slammed him back. Locked, something whispered. Chained. The voice he did not hear, the scent without a smell. The other ways were closed as well. Where doors opened in the walls of man-rock, the wood was thick and strong. There was no way out.

There is, the whisper came, and it seemed as if he could see the shadow of a great tree covered in needles, slanting up out of the black earth to ten times the height of a man. Yet when he looked about, it was not there. The other side of the godswood, the sentinel, hurry, hurry . . .

DO YOU SEE THIS? The whispering IS Bran!

Calm as still water, a small voice whispered in her ear. Arya was so startled she almost dropped her bundle. She looked around wildly, but there was no one in the stable but her, and the horses, and the dead men.

Quiet as a shadow, she heard. Was it her own voice, or Syrio's? She could not tell, yet somehow it calmed her fears. - Arya IV, AGOT

BRAN. IT’S BRAN. He can see everything!

+.+

The smell of fear made his heart thunder and slaver ran from his jaws, and he reached the falling tree in stride and threw himself up the trunk, claws scrabbling at the bark for purchase. Upward he bounded, up, two bounds, three, hardly slowing, until he was among the lower limbs.

That’s awfully impressive.

+.+

Torrhen's Square was under attack by some monstrous war chief named Dagmer Cleftjaw. Old Nan said he couldn't be killed, that once a foe had cut his head in two with an axe, but Dagmer was so fierce he'd just pushed the two halves back together and held them until they healed up.

Rare miss, Old Nan.

+.+

I'm Prince Theon now. We're both princes, Bran. Who would have dreamed it?

More people than you realize.

+.+

He had expected that Hodor would come for him, or maybe one of the serving girls, but when the door next opened it was Maester Luwin, carrying a candle. "Bran," he said, "you . . . know what has happened? You have been told?" The skin was broken above his left eye, and blood ran down that side of his face.

Noooo! :(

+.+

Cruel places breed cruel peoples, Bran, remember that as you deal with these ironmen.

He laughed. "Windy and cold and damp. A miserable hard place, in truth . . . but my lord father once told me that hard places breed hard men, and hard men rule the world." - Theon I, ACOK

+.+

Theon Greyjoy was seated in the high seat of the Starks.

(...)

"Theon's sitting in Robb's chair," Rickon said. 

That bodes well for Theon.

+.+

"Haven't fucked no one since they took me, m'lord. Heke's me true name. I was in service to the Bastard o' the Dreadfort till the Starks give him an arrow in the back for a wedding gift."

Theon found that amusing. "Who did he marry?"

"The widow o' Hornwood, m'lord."

"That crone? Was he blind? She has teats like empty wineskins, dry and withered."

"It wasn't her teats he wed her for, m'lord."

Claiming lands that don’t belong to you doesn’t come naturally for Theon.

+.+

The ironmen slammed shut the tall doors at the foot of the hall. From the high seat, Bran could see about twenty of them. He probably left some guards on the gates and the armory. Even so, there couldn't be more than thirty.

Thirty men. It took thirty men. This is a tragedy. I’m mad at everyone.

+.+

"Listen to your little lordling, Mikken," said Theon. "He has more sense than you do."

A good lord protects his people, he reminded himself. "I've yielded Winterfell to Theon."

I can’t wait for Bran and Edmure to run Westeros.

+.+

"Louder, Bran. And call me prince."    

+.+

"Bugger that." Mikken wiped the blood from his mouth. "I serve the Starks, not some treasonous squid of—aah." The butt of the spear smashed him face first into the stone floor.

"Smiths have strong arms and weak heads," observed Theon. "But if the rest of you serve me as loyally as you served Ned Stark, you'll find me as generous a lord as you could want."

On his hands and knees, Mikken spat blood. Please don't, Bran wished at him, but the blacksmith shouted, "If you think you can hold the north with this sorry lot o'—"

The bald man drove the point of his spear into the back of Mikken's neck. Steel slid through flesh and came out his throat in a welter of blood.

Gendry was only spared because he'd admitted to forging the horned helm himself; smiths, even apprentice smiths, were too valuable to kill. - Arya VI, ACOK

Not the brightest people.

+.+

If Robb Stark can stave off the Lannisters, he may reign as King of the Trident hereafter, but House Greyjoy holds the north now.

He’s so dumb. Is that how he sees this playing out? Good lord.

+.+

"M'lord Greyjoy!" Osha stepped past Mikken's body. "I was brought here captive too. You were there the day I was taken."

I thought you were a friend, Bran thought, hurt.

"I need fighters," Theon declared, "not kitchen sluts."

"It was Robb Stark put me in the kitchens. For the best part of a year, I've been left to scour kettles, scrape grease, and warm the straw for this one." She threw a look at Gage. "I've had a bellyful of it. Put a spear in my hand again."

Eerily similar to what Tyrion wanted to do with Shae.

Don’t worry little one, trust in Osha.

+.+

"Someone kindly shut that halfwit up."

Two ironmen began to beat Hodor with the butts of their spears. The stableboy dropped to the floor, trying to shield himself with his hands.

x

Hodor was given the task of bearing Bran back to his bed. His face was all ugly from the beating, his nose swollen and one eye closed. "Hodor," he sobbed between cracked lips as he lifted Bran in huge strong arms and bloody hands and carried him back out into the rain.

Noooo! :(

Fuck you Theon!

Final thoughts:

Depressed.

-> return to menu <-

[heaux-burrow]

Come Away To the Water. Book VII

(read book I here) (book II here) (book III here) (book IV here) & (book V here) & (book VI here)

Come away little light, come away to the darkness To the ones appointed to see it through In the shade of the night we’ll come looking for you Come away little lamb come away to the water Come away little lamb come away to the slaughter Give yourself so we might live anew

fandom: midnight mass pairing: Father Paul x 2nd person OFC (Helena Belleforest) summary: “That’s my job. To know the people in my community.” “You mean the sheep in your flock.” “Especially the little black ones that like to wander off.” His voice is so tender. You wonder if Jesus spoke with this same tenderness. You think, if he did, you would’ve defied Rome for him too. warning: nsft (18+ interaction only)

(playlist) a/n: hey I posted some sheriff smut you should go read it :P taglist: @shannon-posts @seraphiiii @witchy–owl @allergic-to-reality @viatenebrosa @lucie-pevensie @wolfieellsworld @midnight-mess @plainlo-inthemorning @goingtoraisins (if I missed anyone just lmk I’m so sorry if I did!)

“You know you’re describing a vampire, right?” The shock has worn off and you’re just now starting to feel rational thought burgeoning in your mind again. Sitting next to Paul in a little kebab joint in Queens, you reach for the fountain root beer you’d ordered and take a sip. You’d desperately needed to get off the island, if only to come up for air. Thankfully, Paul had been so grateful you were still beside him after his secret had come out, he’d been happy to grant you any request.

Beside you in the booth seat, he chuckles softly and sips his mint tea.

“How familiar are you with vampire lore?”

“Very.” You respond, confident with your knowledge in this arena. Your bookshelves are overflowing with mythology from every corner of the globe. But vampires are kind of your thing. The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice became your favorite book at age 12 and you’ve been obsessed with anything lacking a pulse ever since.

“So, you can tell me about the first vampire legend in recorded history?” He seems a little too amused and you have to wonder what’s up his sleeve. Still, you bite.

“Sekhmet. Badass warrior.” The grin on your face practically glows in your eyes. “She was said to drink the blood of those she slayed in battle. She was worshipped as a goddess because, as the story goes, her blood could heal those she gave it to. Even the fallen soldiers who fought under her command. Like them, she would always rise again after she was slain.”

He gives you a nod of approval, a twinge of pride in his smirk.

“Are there things you don’t know?”

“I mean don’t ask me to like… divide.”

You shrug, laughing softly at your inability to perform even basic math. “I dunno, we’re always discussing religion and mythology and stuff. That’s me. That’s who I am. If we talked about… how to change a flat tire or build a good stock portfolio, I promise I'd sound a lot less nerdy.”

“You’re not nerdy.” Swaying into you, his shoulder bumps your own gently.

“I am.” You snort, “But so are you so I don’t cry about it to my therapist anymore.”

Paul rolls his eyes, then steals a piece of chicken off your plate.

“Sekhmet.” He drags you out of your ADD and back to the conversation at hand. You think, he’d make a very good university professor with his ability to guide conversations. But maybe that’s just you enjoying the thought of getting him alone during office hours. “Do you remember where that myth originated?”

“Egypt.” You shrug. Too easy.

“And her lineage?”

“Uh…” It takes a moment for you to remember this particular detail. Then, suddenly, it occurs to you why. Because she had claimed none. At least not a mortal lineage. “She said her father sent her, the…”

Realization dawns on your face and Paul nods somberly.

“The sun god, Ra. King of the Egyptian pantheon. Father of all creation. He sent her to earth to cleanse it of those who offended him with sin. But he could not bring himself to look upon these horrors with his own eyes. So he allowed Sekhmet to walk only at night.”

“So you think she was an angel too?”

“You don’t?”

It's tough to argue his logic when he’s got you resolving your own questions and finding his answers lying at the bottom of each rabbit hole. “So we… met angels. But we didn’t realize they were angels. And we called them vampires? Thinking we were classifying a species of monster. When in reality…”

“In reality, these were messengers of God.”

“Hmm…” Tugging off the plastic cover of your cup, you shake a piece of ice free and pop it into your mouth. Turn it over with your tongue while your thoughts swirl around.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He offers, sensing the weight of everything you thought you knew being rearranged. His hand finds your upper spine and flattens there, rubbing in slow circles to comfort you. “If you think about it though… it makes some sense. Take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me. You know the Consecration as well as I do, I��m sure, I mean… it sounds pretty self explanatory.”

“I’m sorry,” Turning to him wide eyed, it takes some effort not to choke on your ice. “Now you’re saying Jesus was a vampire?”

Paul’s head tips to the side, eyeing you almost as if disappointed. But his voice remains as gentle and patient as ever.

“And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel. And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?”

Sighing sharply, you shift enough to lean against his side. You like the way his arm wraps across your shoulders like he was carved to fit around you. The way his long fingers play gently through your curls.

“Fine, Jesus was a vampire.” You concede, rubbing at your tired eyes. A deep yawn quickly follows and you decide you’re ready to clock out of theology class for the night. As if he can feel your fatigue himself, Paul gives in to a yawn of his own and drops a soft kiss to your head.

“We’ve probably missed the Belle, you know.”

“Well, we’ll just have to sleep in this booth then.” You close your eyes as if you’re truly resolved. But you’re forced to open them as his body shakes with a deep chuckle before he moves to stand.

“Not a chance.” Moving to toss his paper plate out and yours, Paul offers you his hand a moment later. “I may not have the body of an eighty-year old man any longer, but I still don’t think my back could take that.”

Smirking softly, you pull your coat on and clasp his hand firmly with yours.

"Is that an invitation to test out what your new, younger back can take?"

He eyes you dangerously and you giggle, knowing you're being bad and enjoying every second of it. You like even more the way this feels. Just walking around the city hand in hand with him. No priestly collar tonight, just a t shirt and a hoodie over slim fit jeans to cover his tall frame. No nosy islanders, just the lights of NYC and the pools of shadow in between. Almost like you're both normal. Almost like this could be yours. Like really yours. It makes a favorite song of yours surface in your mind.

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

“Alright, alright. Let’s do something fun though.” Your big eyes sparkle as the possibilities run through your mind. “Wanna get a room at the Waldorf and sneak into the pool?”

“Um...The archdiocese doesn’t really pay in that tax bracket, so...” He reminds you with a pointed look.

“Okay,” You roll your eyes at his adorable but antiquated assumption that he’s expected to pay. “Well, I don’t like to throw this around on the Island of Lost Toys, but daddy did alright for himself on Wall Street after he escaped Crockett, so. If I wanna stay at the Waldorf, that’s what I’m gunna do.”

Brows lifting, he looks you over. Amusement twitching at the corners of his mouth, he shakes his head more at himself than at you, knowing he’s resolved to follow anywhere you lead.

“Spoiled little princess.”

“And here I was ready to invite you along with me.” Flashing him a cheeky smile over your shoulder, you lean into the street and hail for a cab.

“I’m still coming with you. Even if you make me sleep in the bathtub. I’m not letting you wander around New York City alone at night.”

“Don’t be silly, Paul. We both know you would never fit in a hotel bathtub. Not even at the Waldorf.”

~~~

“This is a bad idea.” He glances around nervously, holding a towel from the room in his hands.

You want to call him out for thinking he has the right to adjourn over what is and isn’t a bad idea after bringing a demon-angel back to Crockett Island from the Holy Land. But you decide to let it go for now.

“It was a $300 cash tip, Paul. The security guy is not gunna fuck us over. Relax, sweetheart.” Leaning up on your toes, you brush a kiss to his jawline and flash him a smile.

Mike, the security guy you’d bribed to give you after hours pool access stands at the end of the fitness center's empty hallway.

“Only an hour or two. I’m off at 1am, so I need this back in time to wipe the drive.”

“Sir, yes sir.” You give Mike your best salute and he hands you the key card in exchange. “See you in an hour, captain.”

“Have fun.” He eyes Paul up as if he’s a bit jealous this is being wasted on a man who looks like he’s got a prescription medication for his allergy to fun. But that’s kind of the point. You can’t imagine your… - okay boyfriend seems not the right word… and you can’t call him your lover...well, whatever he is - you can’t imagine the last time he had some proper breaking and entering fun. If ever. It's not like any girls on Crockett are trouble in the way that you always have been.

The harsh fluorescent lights inside the pool room are off and you leave them that way. The kinder, golden lights embedded inside the pool walls seem more than enough.

Shedding your sweater and boots slowly, you let your eyes brush across the room to Paul. It occurs to you only in this moment why he’s really nervous about this entire thing. Sure, you’ve cuddled and you’ve kissed. But you’ve never undressed for each other. His hoodie falls to a nearby lounge chair. Then his t shirt. You don’t even try to hide your eyes caressing every inch of his smooth, pale skin.

His shoulders are even broader than you’d realized. Arms and ribs defined in more a way than they have any right to be. You brush your jeans down and kick them away, eyes never leaving his body. Slowly padding backwards towards the pool, you can’t help but pause by the railing, still drinking him in.

“You’re really fucking beautiful…” The words are a whisper on your lips, and barely that.

Brows rising in surprise, you watch him chuckle as if you’re telling a bad joke. Carefully, he pads over to you, the growing bulge in his briefs impossible to hide. Caressing his fingertips along your cheek, then your neck, he stays quiet, waiting for the follow up. For the boot to drop. When you stay silent, he shakes his head a bit and his chest caves slightly like he’s reeling from the effort it takes to let your words sink in.

“That can’t be all you have to say right now.” Wetting his lips, the back of his fingertips grazes slowly along your collarbone, like ice skates on a winter pond. “Please say something else.”

“Like what…?” You try not to laugh, but it’s impossible. Slowly, you step backwards down into the pool. Thankfully, Mike had turned the heat on and the water is blissfully warm against the cool skin of your legs. Taking his hand, you pull gently, refusing to move unless he follows.

He bites his lip hard, glancing over your shoulder like he’s searching for his resolve in the deep end.

“Helena…”

Pulling him down into a kiss, you lose your balance as his weight falls against yours. For a few long moments the whole world is nothing but hot water and his creamy skin and your mouths moving together. Around you, your hair floats like a halo and his legs brush your own as you both roll, kicking to the surface. If there is a heaven, you refuse to believe it could be better than this.

Before he can say much, you’re swimming forward. Standing in the shallows feels anything but romantic when he’s as tall as he is.

“You know we don’t have to, love.” You call back to him as you surface by one of the lights in the deep end. Soaking wet, your skin and hair glow in the golden halo of it. Thinking he’s several yards behind, you focus on brushing the hair out of your face. “We can just”-

Suddenly he’s got a grip on your arm and turns you around to face him. With the water only 6’ deep, he’s able to stand here easily and pin you to the wall while his mouth catches your own.

Whimpering softly, your body trembles in surprise and it takes a second before you’ve recovered enough to react. Snaking your legs around his waist, you wrap one arm securely around his neck and cling like he’s a liferaft. Your mouth tips to the side, deepening the kiss. Fingers brushing up into his wet hair.

Tongue caressing yours, Paul lets his hands wander. Feels along the smooth skin of your thighs. Traces his thumbs across the crest of your ribs, smoothing over each one as if counting to make sure each is accounted for.

The adrenaline hits you all at once as you feel him lift you and the rush of it makes you giggle softly, breathlessly. His own chuckle follows and, as you’re sat on the edge of the pool wall, he pulls you down into another soft kiss. Without a word, your panties are tugged down. Tossed aside, unnecessary.

For a moment, he just looks up at you. All big brown eyes brimming with wanting. A sort of silent understanding passes between you. That he’s never actually done this before. That he’ll need you to guide him. Nodding slowly, you shift your weight enough to rest one hand back against the cement. The other brushes into his hair, fisting gently as you slide a thigh over one of his broad shoulders.

The heat of his mouth finds your folds with ease and your stomach hitches in surprise. Head falling back, you let go of a soft groan, rolling your hips to meet his tongue as it explores through your folds. He catches the squeak of pleasure in your throat easily when he finds your clit. Savors the way you shudder as he tests the spot again.

“Mmmm...right there, baby… mmhmm… that’s so good…” Fingers tightening gently in his hair, you hold him in place so he’s sure of what you want.

Feeling the little bud spasm against the lashing of his tongue, he groans deep in his chest. His hands tighten around your thigh and your hip.

“Can you...put your mouth around it and just…ohhh…” Your eyes roll back hard as he sucks your clit between his lips as if on instinct, as if he knows your needs like his own. As if he can feel your body like you can feel his. Nails dragging firmly between his shoulder blades, you grind your hips lightly, desperate.

“So fucking good, baby...you’re so fucking good...yes…”

A growl rumbles in his throat from all your praise and you swear you can feel his toes curling against the pool floor. You’re so sure you can feel the blood rushing through his body, making him ache for you until it hurts.

Panting softly, you grip his shoulder hard as he brings you right to the edge. You have to cover your own mouth to muffle the scream as you shake hard in his hands. Everything bursts into dizzying spirals, like a thousand stars combusting inside of you. Across the whole universe. Maybe both all at once.

“Ohhhh…” Paul’s tongue laps eagerly through your cum, like a kitten tasting milk for the first time and it makes your aftershocks nearly ramp up into another full blown orgasm. Legs trembling, you gently nudge him back. Lean down to kiss him with a grin on your pretty mouth. “Hmm...good job, baby...thank you.”

Slowly you slide down into the pool again and wrap yourself around his body all over again. Curiously, you can no longer feel him hard against you.

“Did you…” Pulling back to find his eyes, you search him out. You’ve never met a man you could finish without even touching him. Granted… it’s very likely been decades for him. Gods, and then decades on top of that. As long as you’d imagined he’d been waiting, you realize now as the ‘restored by the blood of angels’ thing comes back to you, he’s actually been left lonely so much longer than that. A whole god damn lifetime.

Dark pink in his cheeks, he nods and dips his head to nudge your cheek with his nose.

“It’s the blood… I fed you some that night after you fainted. To heal you. But… it allows us to…”

“Feel each other?”

He nods again, almost sheepishly. Suddenly, a thought occurs to you and you can’t help the wicked grin it draws out.

“So if I were to stay up all night… thinking of you… touching myself…”

Head tipping back, Paul drags in a deep breath. Your nose wrinkles as you giggle in amusement.

“I imagine I would...be able to feel that too. Yes.” Kissing your forehead, you feel the tip of his nose nuzzling your skin as he shakes his head in disbelief at how relentless you are in your torture. “Thank you for putting that very sinful thought in my mind.”

“Yeah, but technically that’s not a sin. Right? Technically.”

“Technically, it’s a sin for me to even… think about you that way.”

“Oh. So, no confessing to my local priest about how good you are with your tongue then?” You give him an innocently questioning glance and it earns you a gentle swat to your backside.

“Don’t you dare come into my confessional, little girl.” Despite his words, Paul is laughing heartily at the thought. If you had any intention of behaving yourself, his attitude on the matter might be different. But you both know that you’d never walk into his church with holy intentions.

“Yes, father.” You tease him with a sigh across his neck, nipping the smooth skin there with your teeth. He has such a beautiful neck, it always takes every fiber of restraint in your body to ignore the constant impulse screaming at you to ravage the skin there with your tongue and teeth and lips.

“Good girl.” Groaning softly in response, Paul pushes away from the wall so he can just float with you. As he buries his nose in your skin. And you lose yourself in a daydream. A fantasy where things are completely different.

Where the pool is a Roman bath and the hotel is a palace and you're a princess who doesn't have to answer to anyone. Least of all, the islanders of a small fishing village. It's so easy to imagine, so clear in your mind... it almost feels like a past life.

[bruiisedpetals-a]

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || XI

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Hiatus is over hopefully and we’re on the last arc! Shit is gon’ happen so strap yourselves in and enjoy the ride 👏🏻👏🏻

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X

PART XI of XX

Count: 5,532

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hot. 

Your body felt hot, and there was something deliciously thick going down your throat.

Blood. 

You could taste it so very clearly. 

You could feel your body healing, the bullet holes mending themselves until there was nothing left, and your body in pristine condition. 

Thumping.

You could hear a pounding in your ears and then a soft, breathy moan. 

You wanted to be closer. 

Your hand presses against the wall as your other hand presses the warmth closer to you.

God, you could get lost in this forever as you swallow a mouthful of blood. 

"Ah..."

The sound is both melodic and also a warning bell to you. 

You need to stop.

You have to stop.

Your hand presses against the wall harshly as you feel it break as you curl your hand in an attempt to pull yourself away. 

The tight grip of Wanda's legs around your waist starts to loosen as you pull your mouth away from her neck. She's still holding you close, and you don't move your head too far from her neck. 

The thumping of her heart feels weaker, and you purse your lips, disappointed with yourself. You clean the drip of blood trailing down her throat, ignoring the way Wanda's breath still hitches before your lick at the bite wounds at her neck. 

Soon enough, the bite marks begin to disappear, leaving Wanda's neck bare and unblemished, but a slight red overtone stain from her blood. 

When you pull back enough to see her face, Wanda looks drowsy.

"I'm sorry," you swallow. "I went overboard."

Wanda shakes her head lightly, feeling dizzy from just the motion. 

"It's fine," she says, "I didn't mind."

Wanda tries to stand up, but it's too much as her legs give way, and she falls. You catch her before her knees hit the ground. 

You purse your lips before you hook your arm under the back of Wanda's legs, pulling her up to carry her.

Wanda rests her head against your shoulder as you carry her out. When the door opens, you're met with everyone waiting outside to see if you were okay.

You see Natasha standing there, looking at the two of you, and you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. But you don't get much time to dwell on it when Pietro comes up to you, worry all over his face when he looks at his sister.

He squints his eyes at you, and it doesn't faze you as you are to blame for her state.

"She's okay," you tell him quietly. "She just needs some rest and lots of fluids."

"I'll get her some juice. We should be landing soon, so I'll whip up something for her to help," David offers as he takes off. 

Pietro looks like he wants to take Wanda from your arms, but you cock your brow at him.

"You'll drop her in your state if you try to carry her," you tell him, looking at his bullet wound specifically and how he was hunched over slightly. 

Pietro scowls but relents as he follows you to the room next door as you set Wanda down gently. Your hand moves to gently get her to let go of your jacket, and you set the blanket over her.

As you get up to leave, Pietro stops you.

He presses his lips together, frowning initially before he lets out a sigh. "Thank you."

You merely nod, patting his shoulder gently before you leave him alone with his sister. 

When you leave, you're on a one-track mission to talk to Natasha, but before you can even reach her, Maria intercepts. It seemed Fury was looking for you to get some details regarding the mission and had some questions. 

You scrunch your nose as you look at Natasha. 

"We can talk later," Natasha says quietly so only you can hear as she nods. 

You sigh, looking at her forlornly before you follow Maria.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's a wave of peace when you arrive back in New York. You never thought you would feel this way about a place. A part of you thinks that maybe it's not the place, but the fact that you're here with all the people you care about.

Your family.

Talking with Fury had taken longer than you wanted, giving you no chance to speak with Natasha. 

Everyone heads back to the Stark Tower. At first, you were going to follow along with them, but Natasha holds your hand, drawing you back while shaking her head.

"Let's head back to your place," Natasha says quietly.

You gulp.

"Okay."

You feel it must be a good sign still with Natasha holding your hand as she leads you away to her car, though she's quiet the entire ride, making no move to talk. So, you also sit quietly as you watch the scenery out the window. 

Natasha walks herself straight to your bathroom when she enters your home. You feel grimy yourself and head to a different washroom yourself to clean up. 

You finish before Natasha, and you head over to the kitchen to make her a drink. Unsure of what Natasha wanted to say or how she would react, you didn't think it would hurt to try to bribe her with a drink. It has turned quite late into the night, so you decide to make her a tea instead of coffee.

You go to sit on the sofa, quietly putting soft music in the background in an attempt to soothe yourself as you idly feel the soft fabric underneath your fingers. 

Soon enough, you hear the water turn off in the washroom, and Natasha comes out, fresh and clean, with a towel around her neck as she dries her hair. 

Warmth spreads over your chest as Natasha comes to sit on the sofa, right next to you. You hand her the drink, and she quirks her brow at you with a slight curve in her lip as she takes it.

Humming after she takes a sip, she sets the drink down, towel discarded to the side as she looks at you. 

You purse your lips.

"I--"

You're cut off when Natasha launches herself at you, her lips hitting yours roughly as she slides her fingers across your jaws. 

Surprise takes over you as you automatically reach over to wrap your arms around Natasha's waist. She bites your lower lip, rather hard, and you wonder if this is a punishment. 

When she pulls back, the two of you are a little breathless. 

"Are you...upset?" You ask slowly, scrunching your brow and licking your bottom lip to soothe the pain Natasha inflicted.

Natasha leans back, settling to rest her head between your shoulder and neck as she sighs deeply and heavily. 

"Yes, and no," she answers after moments of silence. Your arms are still wrapped around her as your fingers slide down her arm. You place your hand gently atop of Natasha's. 

You don't say anything because it seems like Natasha is still putting her thoughts together. 

"I'm not mad," Natasha decides. "I know that what you did was out of necessity. You were severely injured, and the only person who could help you was Wanda."

You could sense the lingering at the end of her sentence. 

"But...I don't know. Seeing you with her, so...lost within her...it was different. I understand it, I really do, and on top of that, Wanda is a beautiful girl," Natasha sighs.

You nod, knowing Natasha could feel it. 

"I'm not mad," Natasha repeats.

"Then?" You lick your bottom lip.

Natasha turns her hand around to lace her fingers with yours, pursing her lips, annoyed by how she's unable to describe how she feels.

"I don't know."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were miffed.

With David specifically.

The offender was aware since you've ignored him for a couple days now and haven't looked once in his direction.

You stood with everyone at the Stark Towers as they talked casually. The place is currently being repaired right now after all the damage done by Ultron, but it was still standing for the most part.

Tony talked about how he wanted to build a new compound for the Avengers and was considering either selling the Stark Tower or just taking it back for his company. 

You were standing at the side, between Steve and Natasha, as you tap your foot idly. 

David stood across from you, staring at you while you pointedly didn't look at him, mouth pressed in a firm line. 

A part of you wanted to be rational.

It's not like you were unaware of the circumstances. Drink from Wanda or risk killing everyone on the helicarrier, and also killing yourself in the process. 

And by God knows, no one would've been able to stop you.  

But...you were still so angry.

David knew the consequences of this, and he took it, and you could not blame him for it.

"You can't ignore me forever," David says quietly, moving his mouth so quickly, no one can hear but you. 

You don't say anything.

"Ignoring me isn't going to solve anything, and you know it," David continues on. "We need to talk now, and I'll make a scene if I have to."

You pause for a moment, eyes flittering over to Wanda, who is standing next to David along with Pietro. She's got her brow raised as if she could hear the conversation between the two of you. You don't doubt the possibility that she could.

You look at David, who is staring at you challengingly. Making a scene would be awkward, but you felt childish, wanting to ignore David a little more.

So, you called his bluff. 

And he proved you wrong. 

David barrels into you, tackling you into the empty space as everyone gasps, tensing as they want to break up the fight but knowing they physically would be unable to do so. 

"Stop being so stubborn!" David yells at you, atop of you, and you bare your teeth at him.

Being older brings advantages; David knows that as you flip him over, toppling him underneath you.

"You know exactly why I'm pissed at you!" You snarl at him.

David goes limp in your hold, sighing as he does so.

"I know," he says quietly, "and I'm sorry, but there wasn't any other choice."

Hearing David apologize to you even though you knew it wasn't really his fault made you grimace.  

God, you were such an ass sometimes. 

You sigh, loosening your grip on David as you stand up, pulling him up with you. 

"What...the hell was that?" Tony says, staring in disbelief at you two. 

"Just a disagreement," you mutter as you rotate your shoulder to relocate it back into place. 

Natasha purses her lip at you as you walk back up to her.

You shrug at her, not really wanting to get into it again.

"We've got some things we have to discuss first, we'll meet up with you guys later," David announces, pulling you with him as you frown.

Everyone just blinks at the two of you exist the room, and head to the rooftop. Once up there, you feel a slight breeze and can smell how fall is approaching. 

"Are you done being pissed at me?" David asks as the two of you look over the railing at the city. 

You exhale heavily through your nose.

"I know it's not your fault," you tell David, "but I would have preferred it more if you took me and jumped off the helicarrier and have our bodies be obliterated when we hit the ground."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time we encounter this problem," David smiles wryly.

"You put me in a horribly awkward situation, David, nevermind the consequences of it," you sighed, pressing your temples with your hand before rubbing your face. 

"How did Natasha take it?" David asked. 

You shrug. "She didn't really take it any way at all. She said she doesn't know how she felt about it. She's neither upset nor okay with it, but she understands."

"That must be better than her being pissed at you," David shrugs. 

"I don't know," you say, "I know how to deal with pissed, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do when even she doesn't know how she feels."

"And Wanda?" David probes.

You tense up immediately at her name, David catching it immediately.

"That bad or that good?" 

You turn to glare at him.

"Sorry."

You turn back to the city skyline. 

"I don't know," you tell him honestly, blinking slowly. "She looks incredibly so much like Tatyana, and yet, I know distinctly it's not her. She's both familiar and new to me. A part of me understands I'm the only link to explaining her family's past, but I feel like I need to keep my distance as well, even though I can't now."

"Why? Did you feel something for her?" David asks.

"A little too much,"  you wryly admit. "It was terrifying, honestly."

"But?" David probes some more.

You look at him. "But I am in love with Natasha."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You and David stay on the rooftop for a while just to enjoy the quiet while you can before you head back to have the real serious talk.

When you come down, you see that everyone had still stayed in the room, loitering as if they weren't waiting for the two of you to go back.  

Natasha looks at you, and you nod, telling her that you and David were okay. David looks at Natasha and gives her his dashing smile that she returns in small. 

"We need to talk," you say in a sobering tone, looking at Wanda, while you make a move to grab Natasha's hand. 

Wanda stares at you, not saying anything as she tilts her head.

"About what?" Pietro cuts in, looking at you with a frown. 

"Пьетро," Wanda says, accent thick as she grabs his arm to calm him down. "About what?" Wanda asks as she turns her head back to you. 

You look around the room as if to tell everyone else this is a private matter.

"Oh no," Tony says, leaning against a counter. "We're all in this together now. Share with the class."

Steve was the only other person in the room, and he nodded his head firmly at you in more of a supportive way than Tony. 

You let out a long sigh as you turn back to Wanda.

"It's about...what happened when I fed on you," you say slowly and rather awkwardly, feeling Natasha's hand tighten around yours. 

Wanda licks her lips. 

"You've probably figured out by now that I know an ancestor of your guys'," you say.

"That woman I've seen in your head..." Wanda brings up, and you grimace.

"Yeah, her," you confirm. 

"Wait, what?" Pietro says, swerving back to look at his sister. "She knows someone in our family tree, and you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't know for sure," Wanda shrugs. 

"How did you know her? Was that why you were looking for us?" Pietro asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

"Her name was Tatyana. She was..." you clear your throat. "She was...my lover. But yes, she was partly why I was looking for the two of you. But the truth is, every time there is a new descendant, I always look for them. Although somewhere along the way, I lost track because your great-great-grandfather decided to have multiple children in secret."

"So, we actually have a big family we don't know about?" Pietro scrunches his eyebrows together.

You shake your head. "No, you two are the sole surviving people left in your family. Everyone else has rather lived short lives or died due to an accident or illness."

Pietro continues to stare at you suspiciously but moves on. "You say this Tatyana woman was our ancestor, but how did we come to be if she was your lover."

"Tatyana had a life before me," you shrug. "She never really talked about it, but she was in an arranged marriage when she was younger and had a child. Of course, her husband took on a second wife since it was common back in the day. It wasn't the life she wanted, and she had never been inclined to children. Leaving was easy for her."

"She was...a witch," Wanda says slowly as if to confirm with you.

"Yes," you nodded stiffly. "Her...powers is genetic."

"But I didn't have any powers when I was born. I was given it through the scepter," Wanda argued. 

You lick your lips. "Over the years, your bloodline was diluted. The powers are genetic, but with Tatyana, but since no one in the family ever married another witch or warlock, the powers became weaker and weaker every time until there was basically nothing. In this day and age, you would be so lucky to even find a true witch or warlock by blood because they're all in hiding, though the stake burning has stopped."

"Then...the scepter..." Wanda pondered.

"You may not have had obvious powers, but you probably experienced smaller things as a child. A feeling you couldn't ignore, a dream that came true, something buzzing at your fingertips, but you just couldn't explain it. The scepter unlocked that gene within you. It jumpstarted the powers you had inside all along," you theorize. 

Wanda looked at you in shock, confirming that she experienced those things in her youth. 

"Why didn't I get the same gift as Wanda then if I have the gene too?" Pietro asked.

You shrug. "I'm only guessing. I've never actually seen any males in your family tree display any inkling of a gift. I'm assuming the scepter had more of play in powers for you."

Pietro hums, looking at his sister before shrugging and moving on. 

"Well, a great history lesson. You slept with my ancestor, is that what you wanted to tell us?" Pietro cocked his brow with a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

"No, I wish it were just that," you sigh inaudibly, feeling your stomach drop as you looked back at Wanda.

"The day I fed from you...did you feel anything happen to your body after?"

Wanda cocked her brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm and forced it down before it could physically show on your face.

"I mean, like, a burning...no, I mean...did you feel any pain afterward?" You stumbled over your words, not even daring to look at Natasha as you kept holding her hand. "Specifically, did any of your bones hurt?"

Wanda stares at you a moment longer before nodding slowly. "I did," she says. "I felt something here like it was on fire...I assumed it was because too much blood was taken." She points to her sternum.

You pursed your lips, feeling suspicion rise higher inside.

You turn to Tony. "Do you have an x-ray machine here?"

"I do," Tony raises one of his brows. 

"Why do you need an x-ray?" Pietro asked, mildly alarmed.

You didn't answer as Tony led everyone out of the room into the medical bay area where there were multiple body x-ray scanning machines, though many of the devices but two were crushed when Ultron attacked the tower. 

You had to let go of Natasha's hand as you walk up to Wanda, who is looking at your own sternum for a moment before looking back at you.

"I need to confirm if what I believe is true," you tell her softly, asking her to get onto the machine.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Wanda says with a slight raise of her brow and a tiny quirk in her lips like she knows you're hiding something underneath. 

You purse your lips, not really wanting everyone to see what is in your body, but you know it's only fair if you're asking Wanda.

"Alright," you agree with a nod. 

"Are you serious?" David blinks in disbelief, and Natasha turns to him with curious eyes. 

You shrug.

"It was bound to come out at some point...I wanted to show Nat sometime anyways," you look over at your girlfriend with a smile, feeling slightly guilty about hiding things still. 

Both you and Wanda get onto the machine while Tony operates it to get a CT scan of the bones. 

The scan is over relatively quickly, doing the front and back as you both make it out of the room to join the crowd around the monitor. 

The images slowly load.

"Jesus Christ," Steve exclaims under his breath.

"What the fuck," Tony squints his eyes as if he doesn't believe what he's seeing. 

Though both pictures showed up, yours drew all the attention.

Marks and drawings were engraved into your bones everywhere on the front and back of your ribs like they were tattoos. 

"What are these?" Natasha asked as she leans in to take a closer look at the images. 

"They're searings from a priest," you tell them, turning your attention to Natasha.

"Leo?" She asks quietly. 

You nod your head, blinking languidly as you look at her face.

"What's it for?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes slightly.

You stand straighter as you readjust your jacket.  

"They're markings that allow me to go into the sun without being burnt alive," you say, watching as everyone just blink at you. "David has the same ones, though not done by the same priest."

"So, something does happen if you go into the sun!" Tony exclaims as if he was right all along.

"...Yes, but I don't sparkle. It's quite the opposite. It burns and rips at the flesh and smells exactly like what you think it would smell like," you tell him. Tony made a gagging face at the thought. 

"Wait, what is that?" Pietro says as he looked at Wanda's image, finding a scrawling in red burned into her sternum.

Everyone draws their attention over before looking back at yours.

You had an identical one in the same place. 

The searings on your rib were in black, while the one on your sternum was red in color.

"Oh, shit," David says, breaking the silence. "We activated the second part of your curse."

"Curse? What curse? What did you do to my sister?" Pietro pushes past everyone until he's standing in front of you, gripping the lapels of your jacket. 

"Пьетро!" Wanda calls after him, putting her hand on his arm to pull him back, but he doesn't budge.

You swallow.

"As I said," you put your hands around Pietro's, forcing him to let go. "I was involved with Tatyana, your ancestor, and it didn't end well."

"She cursed you because of a quarrel or a breakup?" Pietro snorted as if he didn't believe you.

You quirked your brow at him. "No, she cursed me because I killed her."

"You killed her?" Tony says in incredulity. "You killed your girlfriend." 

"I had to," you shift uncomfortably, the guilt rising up as Natasha moves to hold your hand. "She turned. Upset with how villages were hunting witches along with other horrible things, she was trying to create vampires using her magic to destroy the villages. She was murdering innocent people, and nothing I said reached her anymore. When I begged her to stop, she didn't. I did what I had to."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tony blinked. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't become a villain; your origin story would've been so good."

You roll your eyes.

"What was the curse, and what does that have to do with my sister?" Pietro demanded.

"The curse was that I could never feed from a human being other than her. But because you are descendants from her, you share the same blood, which creates somewhat of a loophole." You sigh, pressing your lips together as you look at Wanda. "The reason I was actually looking for the two of you is that I always keep track of the descendants of Tatyana's. I do that so I know who I cannot ever risk of drinking their blood, even if you donated blood by chance, I wouldn't take your blood bag."

You look at Natasha, "I'm sorry, but I didn't tell you everything that night," you say softly. 

Natasha bit her tongue, "You said that you didn't want to find a cure to this curse...but you've actually had already tried to find one, haven't you?

You nodded, biting your bottom lip.

"Yes...Leo and I spent years trying to find the cure at first. At one point, I encountered one of Tatyana's grandchildren. I could smell the same blood of Tatyana's in her. At that time, I was living off of animal blood," you sighed. "I don't know, something came over me, and I jumped at her. I realized that I could drink from her...but that's when I realized the second part of this curse." 

You looked at Wanda apologetically. "I inflict this curse back on them."

"What?" Pietro bellowed.

"What happened to Tatyana's granddaughter?" Steve asked with arms crossed as he processed the information.

"Another vampire tried to feed on her and she died instantly," you frowned. "When Leo and I realized the intricacies of this, I stopped looking for the cure because it was clear there wasn't one without Tatyana being the one to remove it. On top of that, it kept my bloodlust in check. I had to be more conscious about it unless I wanted to die."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Natasha asked quietly. 

"Because I'm not proud of it. Worse than killing Tatyana because I had to was awful. But then I went and tried to remove her curse," you frowned slightly. "I'm not like you, Nat. You deal with your ledger every day proudly and without hesitation."

You look away, ashamed of what you're admitting. "I couldn't. I wanted to get rid of the curse because even though it was what I deserved, it was just a daily reminder of Tatyana, and I didn't want to remember what I had done to her."

Fingers grip your chin, pulling you back, and you face Natasha.

"Hey, you are the bravest person I know," she says softly, and the words linger like she wants to say something else, but there's a crowd here. "We'll talk more later."

Natasha lifts your fingers to her lips and presses a soft kiss to them. The action brings a deep pit feeling in your stomach, and you feel something threatening to spill over, but you swallow it because now isn't the time. 

"So, what do we do now?" Pietro asks, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand.

You look solemnly at Pietro. "There's nothing I can do. I have to keep feeding from her regularly. Otherwise, she'll die."

"Why?" Pietro demanded, stress clear on his face. 

"This curse is a catch 22 situation. On the one hand, Wanda is the only person I can feed from. But on the other hand, now I'm the only vampire who can feed on her. If any other vampire tries to feed on her, it will react badly with my venom and kill her. If I don't regularly feed on her and inject new venom, her cells will slowly deteriorate and kill her. My venom is both a poison and a cure for her." Your expression was grim, and you looked over to Wanda, but the girl seemed to have no reaction at all to what you were saying, so you were unable to gauge how she was feeling. 

"And what?" Pietro pressed. "You'll do this to her forever? Because there's no fucking cure?"

You didn't really have an answer to that because it's not like you've encountered this situation. The last descendant you drank from died due to another vampire getting to her. You were sure as hell not going to let that happen this time, but you had a feeling Wanda could handle her own if someone tried to attack her. 

"No," you decided, exhaling softly. "I'm...going to try to find the cure again. If it was just me, that's one thing, but you're right; I can't let Wanda be affected forever too."

Natasha squeezed your hand, and you turned slightly to look at her, finding her giving you a small smile.

"How are you going to find a cure? I thought the only cure to this was if Tatyana reversed what she did, and she's no longer here," Steve asked.

You lick your lips as you lock eyes with David.

"It's been a while, but we're going to find Leo's descendent."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day comes to a quiet end, and you find yourself looking out the window. The city is still bustling, and it's a reminder that New York is a city that never sleeps, and you kind of miss the atmosphere out in the countryside where Clint lived.

Natasha left with David to help him try to track down Leo's descendent. Though, you know it will be relatively easy.

Steve had pulled you aside after asking you seriously if you wanted him to stay to help you with this matter, but you shook your head.

"You need to find Bucky," you tell him. "He's out there, waiting for you unconsciously, I bet."

Steve seems like he wants to stay still, but you smile as you pat his broad shoulder.

"David found a tip on Bucky for you, so you need to go because it's not looking hot for him," you pass him a folded piece of paper.

"What if you need me?" Steve frowned.

"You'll be the first I'll call, solider," you wink.

"I better be," he smiles back, pulling you into a hug before he left. 

A part of you wonders how things will play out like how you saw when you touched Tony's hand. Regardless, if you could get Tony to think the Accords was a horrible idea, then things would change.

But changing Tony's mind or trying to influence him was like trying to move a mountain.

"Hey."

You turn to see Wanda standing at the door, far from you. When you turn, she takes it as a sign to enter the room and approach you.

"Hey," you reply, feeling your body going stiff, the conversation with David fresh in your mind. 

Wanda stands next to you before turning her head to look at the view outside.

"The view is very different than what I'm used to," she tells you quietly. 

"Better or worse?" You ask in return.

"Both. On the one hand, this is not the view of my homeland, but I suppose this is better than watching my country collapse."

You purse your lips at that, feeling sympathy for the girl before you.

"They will rebuild," you tell her softly, "and when you return, it will be a beautiful view once more."

Wanda gives you a small smile as she turns to face you. No one says anything, and the quiet settles over the two of you as you stare at each other. 

"I feel like you were meant to be in my life, and I'm meant to be in yours," Wanda tells you, blinking as if she's unsure if she should be saying so. 

"You feel something for me," Wanda states, and you immediately rush to deny it.

"Don't," Wanda warns you, and you press your lips together to hold the words back. "You do, and you can't lie to me about it. I...I feel confused around you. You and Natasha. I don't know what to make of any of it."

"There's so much history tied between us...I worry that your feelings are because of my ancestor--because you mistake me for her."

"I don't," you tell her immediately, not wanting her to feel like she was some replacement. "I admit you two are similar...in more ways than you know...but I know that you're not her."

"How?" Wanda smiles sardonically.

"Easiest explanation? Scent. Vampires are extremely sensitive to scent, and you have your own distinct smell. Long explanation? There's no one that could ever replace Tatyana to me, and I don't want anyone to. You are your own person, just as Natasha is. In my heart, Natasha is something new and cannot also ever be replaced," you say, wanting Wanda to understand, but also to draw a line. 

"And me?" Wanda pushes. "Where do you want me to stand in your heart?"

You clench your jaw, just about to answer when Natasha and David enter the room.

"We've found the descendent. He lives in Texas," David tells you. 

You take a step back from Wanda, clearing your throat quietly as you nod. 

Your girlfriend stares at you, her eyes shifting to Wanda for a microsecond before she looks back at you as if Natasha could tell she just walked into a tense moment.

"Good," you say. "We'll leave tomorrow morning. Everyone should get some rest."

You walk towards Natasha, grabbing her hand as you lead her out the room, only looking back once at Wanda, who stood there with her arms crossed over her chest as she looks at you with an expression you find yourself unable to decipher.

Nor forget.

PART XII

[gffa]

I have often given Qui-Gon Jinn a hard time because he’s so often used in STAR WARS fandom as a weapon to beat on other characters I love and it makes it difficult to like him, as well as it overshadows who the character himself is. So, to help balance that out some, I wanted to do a set of recs to remind myself–and just share some happiness in!–that I actually do very much like Qui-Gon! He’s a good person who really loved the people around him, he cared very deeply, he had an amazing friendship with Yoda (seriously, that Yoda’s the one he reaches out to when he becomes a Force Ghost, that even after death, Qui-Gon loves his Jedi family, it gives me feelings in my feelings place every single time), and one of my favorite things about Master & Apprentice is that I often got the impression that he knew he was kind of obnoxious sometimes, but he was at peace with it, he was fine with that. That was a straight shot to my heart, I love that dude! So, here have some fics that celebrate that Qui-Gon is actually a really great character. He may not always be the central character, but I remember him being well portrayed in these and they gave me good Qui-Gon feelings! STAR WARS - QUI-GON JINN FIC RECS: ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & dooku & mace & cast, time travel, 491.1k wip    Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. Major AU. ✦ The Way Back Home by Anakinstopyourpanakin, happygiraffe, obi-wan & qui-gon & bant & tahl, 39.5k wip    He had been missing for nearly four years. How could Obi-Wan be alive? It was too good to be true, and simultaneously too horrifying. What had been done to the innocent child who was currently falling asleep against his shoulder, and did his wounds run too deep for Qui-Gon to mend? ✦ When the world gets too heavy put it on my back by nematoda, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 29.8k    Obi-Wan is different when it comes to relationships. Not in a bad way, just… different. Studies of platonic love in the life of Obi-Wan Kenobi, exploring the master/padawan relationship with Qui-Gon and eventually with Anakin. ✦ Shadows of the Future by stormqueen873, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 129.3k    ObiWan lost the duel on Mustafar, but instead of dying, he finds himself on a ship leaving Tatooine, with his old Master and a familiar young boy. As events begin to unfold, can he stop the future he knows from occuring? ✦ No Galaxy for Good Jedi by Annie_Walker, obi-wan & anakin & padme & qui-gon & dooku & yoda & cast, some obi-wan/satine, sith!qui-gon, 124.8k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a young padawan when he ran away with three-year old Anakin. He had no choice after his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, fell to the Dark Side by Master Dooku’s manipulations. ✦ Masters and Padawans: Three Generations by GirlwithCurls98, qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 24.6k    Three generations of incredible bonds. ✦ What Is My Heritage? by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda, 7.7k    Qui-Gon, age 13, tries to find a place to belong. ✦ Coming Home by Marnie, qui-gon & yoda & dooku, 18.1k    A story telling how Qui-Gon comes to be Dooku’s apprentice. ✦ Trust Me by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 2k    A certain Jedi Master is less than pleased about being laid up with the flu. ✦ Triviality and QuiGon by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 4.1k    The Council’s infinite cruelty gives Dooku the most brutal of punishments: quality time with the Padawan and his plantlife! ✦ Rainy by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 26.8k wip    A seemingly easy mission goes horribly wrong for Padawan Qui and Master Dooku as they struggle to battle an insane adversary, poisons and curses, and an awful lot of rain. ✦ The Luckiest Man Alive + Letting Go by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & yoda, 7.9k    Yoda, Dooku, and a twenty four year old QuiGon go to the small planet of Omartia to pick up a forcesensitive infant. + Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan go to pick up a Force-sensitive child. On the way back, Qui-Gon is faced with the fact that someday very soon, he will have to let Obi-Wan go. ✦ Lineage by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & xanatos & cast, 35.9k    AU!Jedi Apprentice. Book I: In which master and apprentice meet for the first time, enjoy a disastrous adventure courtesy of Xanatos DuCrion, and reap the fruits of patience and fortitude. A fanciful retelling of the original. ✦ Lineage II by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 40.9k    A year or so has elapsed since the last time we saw our heroes. BOOK 2: In which master and apprentice investigate an evil brainwashing plot, attend a boisterous wedding, and battle the enemy within. ✦ Lineage III by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & xanatos & bant & cast, 49.4k    AU!Jedi Apprentice. Book III: Master and apprentice face an important rite of passage, grapple with a traitorous plot within the Temple’s walls, and discover the limits of obedience and intuition. Appearances by Bant Eerin, Xanatos DuCrion, Yan Dooku, and others. ✦ Lineage IV by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & siri & adi gallia, 39.3k    Master and apprentice endure a stint with the Agri-Corps, and find that trouble has a way of coming home to haunt them. Featuring a pile of bantha poodoo, a tentacled carnivorous plant, a desperate escaped convict, and a highly provocative young woman. ✦ Lineage V by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & tahl (& some qui-gon/tahl) & dooku & cast, 50.7k    An evil scientist wreaks havoc when she captures Jedi Knight Tahl Uvain for purposes of obscure research; Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan rush to the rescue, only to be embroiled in further trouble; and Master Dooku joins in the hunt with characteristic aplomb. ✦ Lineage VI by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 66.2k    Master and apprentice undertake a risky undercover mission to expose conspiracy in a far-flung sector; a comedy of manners abruptly transforms into a nightmare when their cover is blown; and a desperate escape gambit strikes deep at the foundations of trust. ✦ Lineage VII by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & siri & adi gallia & some obi-wan/siri, 74.5k    Sent to the aid of their fellow Jedi on a disastrous mission to New Apsolon, master and apprentice contend with brainwashing, genocide, conspiracy, and the perilous realm of the heart. ✦ Lineage VIII by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 83.4k    Hard on the heels of the mission to Apsolon, master and apprentice find new troubles - in their own backyard. Jenna Zan Arbor faces prosecution for her crimes; the Jedi grapple with the disastrous realities of corruption and personal loss; Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon undertake perilous and disparate quests. ✦ Lineage IX by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & cast, 61k    A year after parting ways, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon struggle to complete their self-appointed quests for enlightenment and justice. ✦ Lineage X by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku, 49.2k    The war-ravaged world Melida-Daan is backdrop to a manhunt, an occult conspiracy, a bitter guerilla conflict, and a test of ultimate loyalties. ✦ Lineage XI by ruth baulding, obi-qan & qui-gon & cast, 56k    The disastrous situation on Melida-Daan takes a turn for the worse; the Jedi dispatch a team to capture a dangerous murderer; and Qui-Gon Jinn and his former apprentice face the consequences of their rebellion. Series finale. ✦ Snakefic by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & yoda & cast, 6k    It was only the matter of time before the egg hatched. ✦ Strokes of Colored Grey by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon, 9.5k    ObiWan has been drawing since he was a small youngling, but only a few people know, including his teacher, Vianro Dleka, and the elderly, trustworthy archivist, KinWan Terius. But what happens when his master discovers his secret? ✦ Pies, Books, and Swords, obi-wan & qui-gon/tahl, 1.2k    Qui-Gon Jinn has made quite a good name for himself, as far as holonet cooking shows go. ✦ They Are by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 1.7k    This is their moment, their eternity. They think its going to be like this forever. ✦ Strongest Stars by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & chirrut & cast, 2.6k    The Force works in mysterious ways. A few quiet moments in the dark create a touchstone spanning across three generations, two orthodoxies, a war, time, space, and the galaxy. A maverick meets a visionary and listens for a song. Spoilers for Rogue One, sort of? ✦ Anecdotally by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 14.6k    The biggest stories are always made up of smaller ones. Here are some of the forgotten moments in the life of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Will feature a wide variety of genres, characters, eras, and AUs. Oneshots from whenever inspiration strikes. ✦ the floor under our feet by FoxGlade, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & dooku + background pairings, 4.5k wip    or, the adventures and exploits of Qui-Gon’s three adopted children. ✦ A Long, Long Time Ago by ruth baulding, dooku & qui-gon + qui-gon & obi-wan + obi-wan & anakin + anakin & ahsoka, 5.8k    A wisdom tale handed passed down through the generations poses troublesome questions for a line of masters and Padawans, from Dooku to Ahsoka Tano. ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k    Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k    In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia. ✦ Midwinter Sun by orphan_account, dooku & qui-gon, 4.2k    Padawan Jinn is a rebel and Dooku is very much not ready. ✦ Jedi In Winter by bluedragoninamber, obi-wan & qui-gon & dooku & yoda, 12.3k    In which Yan Dooku understands regret and tries to make things right. Something new will be born from the ashes of the old but exactly what remains to be seen. ✦ A New History by Annie Walker, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & dooku & cast, time travel, 533.4k wip    During a heated battle, Dooku escaped into the past! Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker follow to stop him, but discover that Dooku went to the past where Obi-Wan is a young padawan to a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, the two must go undercover to stop Dooku’s plans from coming to fruition in order to save not only the future, but also young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ In the Heart of the Force by ReneeoftheStars, ahsoka & qui-gon, 1.7k    Ahsoka Tano travels back to the world between world’s. Searching for answers, she comes across a past event that only makes her question the past even more. ✦ Stitches and Time by ladyarcherfan3, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ocs, 4k    Alara Nel is a seamstress who keeps getting an unusually large number of orders for Jedi robes from an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Over the years, she learns why and gets to know the Jedi a little bit better. ✦ The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye), obi-wan & qui-gon & oc & cast, 17.6k    A few months after being taken as a Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi faces a challenge: meeting his Master’s first apprentice. ✦ untitled by elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon, 3.1k    Anonymous asked: if you’re still accepting prompts: smol padawan obi-wan letting slip his law abiding exterior and letting loose the terrifying intensity beneath it. preferably in defense of qui-gon or something. ✦ The will of the Force by Lysore, obi-wan & yoda & qui-gon, 2.7k    Obi-Wan piqued Yoda’s interest early on, except the Grand Master of the Order had known for just as long that the Initiate was destined to be Qui-Gon Jinn’s Padawan. ✦ I thought I fought this war alone by stonefreeak, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 3.7k    Obi-Wan is thirteen years old, just about to start learning Ataru from his Master. Obi-Wan is sixty-one years old, dead and one with the Force since four years back. Obi-Wan is both, and neither. ✦ The First Trial by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 2k    Accompanied by his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, young Obi-Wan Kenobi undergoes his first trial and rite as a Padawan Learner on the frozen planet of Ilum. ✦ Hearts Entwined by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi & qui-gon, time travel, 6.5k wip    stolen moments between Padawan Kenobi and Shmi Skywalker, glimpsed by Qui Gon Jinn, and his continued attempts to understand both this strange new addition to the Temple and the unexplained relationship between the pair ✦ The Orchards by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.6k    When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan’s recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace. ✦ The Path of Totality by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & yoda & qui-gon & cast, 1.8k    Before going their separate ways into exile, Obi-Wan Kenobi shares with Yoda a lesson of wisdom he’d learned from his late Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. A lesson of darkness, light, and hope. ✦ Finding Balance by Raven_Knight, qui-gon & dooku & jocasta, 1.4k    Eleven-year-old Padawan Jinn is left behind while his Master goes on a mission off-planet. Qui-Gon is left in the care of Jocasta Nu, and he’s not exactly enthusiastic about it. ✦ Warmth by Tomatosoupful, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & xanatos & tahl & shmi & cast, child endangerment, time travel, 59.8k wip    Time Travel AU. Anakin has woken up in the past. Time to say hello to past friends, right? Only problem, Anakin is a walking talking human disaster and makes a lot of stupid decisions. Stealing a Jedi baby from the temple certainly isn’t the smartest thing he’s done. ✦ Abducted by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.6k    In trying to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a planetary leader, Qui-Gon finds himself abducted and in need of Obi-Wan’s rescue. ✦ Trust Fall by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, 1.4k    Two generations of Masters and Padawans. Two generations of trust falls. ✦ Something Borrowed, Something New by Raven_Knight, qui-gon & dooku/jocasta, 1.6k    Qui-Gon Jinn had only been claimed as Knight Dooku’s Padawan for three weeks before he’d managed to get himself into trouble with his Master. ✦ In Memoriam by ruth baulding, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & evan piell, 6.4k    In the midst of a desperate escape from the Citadel, Obi Wan mourns a friendship. A tribute to Jedi Master Evan Piell. ✦ One Day by ruth baulding, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & shmi & bail/breha & palpatine, 9.9k    A single moment in time, on five different planets. A birth, an election, a discovery, a marriage, and a mission. Because all things are mysteriously united in the Force. ✦ They Are by Charmisjess, dooku & qui-gon, 1.7k    This is their moment, their eternity. They think its going to be like this forever. ✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & some anakin/padme & ahsoka & qui-gon & rex & cast, time travel, 77k wip    ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ Family by lilyconrad, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & darth maul & cast, sith!obi-wan, 6.8k    Seven years after the duel on Naboo, Obi-Wan Kenobi has turned to the dark, Maul has turned to the light, and young Anakin is caught somewhere in-between. Can Qui-Gon rescue his Padawan before it’s too late? ✦ Fountain of Force by esama, qui-gon & cast, final fantasy 7 crossover, 8.9k    In which Qui-Gon Jinn comes from Gaia. ✦ Rewrought by esama, obi-wan & qui-gon & maul, time travel, 4.4k    Bit o time travel ✦ Lion Jinn by esama, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 5.7k wip    Qui-Gon Jinn reincarnates as a lion. ✦ Brothers (working title) by Charity_Angel, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & padme & shmi & yoda & cast, 17.3k wip    In which Qui-Gon has a very near miss on Naboo, Obi-Wan is very stubborn, and they end up breaking a lot of rules accidentally as a result. All because of that kid they picked up on Tatooine. ✦ untitled by legobiwan, yoda & dooku & qui-gon, 1.5k    Yan Dooku was getting too old for this type of thing. He had rushed into the healer’s ward, Qui-gon’s limp body in his arms. That in itself had been a feat, as the boy’s gangly limbs were everywhere, but somehow the older Jedi Master had been able to deposit his wayward Padawan on a bed before an errant arm took his nose off. ✦ Drifting Starlight by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 60.3k    Just before the fateful Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon Jinn is brought to the future, to the Clone Wars. He doesn’t know why or how, but he knows one thing for sure: He never, in a million years, expected the galaxy to end up like this. ✦ Although He Smiles by AutumnChild22, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 86.9k wip    She’d counted the 750 steps down from the Temple. She’d said her goodbyes, and left Master Anakin standing below the great pillars. What more could the Force want from her? ‘Everything’ sums it up nicely. Waking 13 years in the past, Ahsoka faces a harsh reality. As events begin to unfold, she faces a ticking clock that times a galaxy’s end. ✦ A New History by Annie Walker, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & dooku & cast, time travel, 533.4k wip    During a heated battle, Dooku escaped into the past! Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker follow to stop him, but discover that Dooku went to the past where Obi-Wan is a young padawan to a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn. Now, the two must go undercover to stop Dooku’s plans from coming to fruition in order to save not only the future, but also young Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn. ✦ The First Trial by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 2k    Accompanied by his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, young Obi-Wan Kenobi undergoes his first trial and rite as a Padawan Learner on the frozen planet of Ilum. ✦ Hearts Entwined by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & shmi & qui-gon, time travel, 6.5k wip    stolen moments between Padawan Kenobi and Shmi Skywalker, glimpsed by Qui Gon Jinn, and his continued attempts to understand both this strange new addition to the Temple and the unexplained relationship between the pair ✦ Highly Dissatisfied by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.1k    Obi-Wan enters the quarters he shares with his Master, intending to ask for help in preparation for his exams. Qui-Gon, however, is dealing with a far more urgent matter. ✦ playing yourself like a red three by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse), obi-wan & xanatos & qui-gon, 7.7k    As usual, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s mission has gone spectacularly sideways, this time before they even reach the planet they are meant to be helping. Luckily for them, they get some help from an unexpected source. ✦ so far the suns by blackkat, mace & qui-gon, 1.3k    “My old friend,” Qui-Gon tells Mace, quiet, and his presence comes closer. “I fear I made several mistakes in the past weeks, and I would ask you to correct them for me.” ✦ The Cry by batsojopo, obi-wan & qui-gon & xanatos & ocs & cast, 4.2k    This is my version of how Obi-Wan Kenobi arrived at the Jedi Temple. ✦ kybersong by Shadaras, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.6k    Obi-Wan Kenobi goes in search of his lightsaber’s crystal heart. ✦ What Have We Become by Batsutousai, feemor & qui-gon & obi-wan & anakin & cast, time travel, 43.7k    One of Feemor’s greatest regrets, was that he never had the chance to get to know his brother-padawan, but the Force is willing to give him one more chance. And maybe, if he’s lucky, he can finally make amends with his former master and save them all in the process. ✦ We Start and End With Family by Batsutousai, feemor & qui-gon & obi-wan & yoda & cast, time travel, 8.8k    Qui-Gon had been mostly joking when he’d originally brought up the idea of a lineage dinner, but when his former padawan grabbed for the idea with both hands and a desperation Qui-Gon didn’t understand (and privately hoped he never would), he knew he would never be able to refuse. ✦ turning dust right into gold by blackkat, mace/qui-gon & depa & cast, 1.3k    Mace knows Depa too well. She’s absolutely going to do something terrible, particularly for Mace’s dignity. ✦ A Price to Be Paid by Peach_Bitters (Starf), qui-gon & dooku & cast, 3.1k    Young Qui-Gon learns there’s a price to be paid for his curiosity. ✦ For the Future of the Order by thetorontokid, obi-wan & qui-gon & cast, 3.9k    There are important lessons to be found in the Jedi Temple crèche.

[quillandink333]

Scarlet Carnations ~ Epilogue

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.7k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

The first couple of weeks following the incident that had taken my long-lost mother from me was misery in its purest form. Link and I didn’t speak, not even by phone, during that whole stretch of time. In fact, I could rarely bring myself to answer the phone at all. The memory was still too vivid, the wounds still too fresh.

He’d gotten off scot-free in the end as he’d been deemed to have acted in the defence of others—namely, of me. It wasn’t long before I learned of his plea, that if I hadn’t come along quietly, I would have suffered the same fate that he’d brought upon her, and they had believed him. How I felt about this was still something I was struggling to wrap my endlessly pounding head around.

As dark and deep as this seemingly bottomless pit of despair that I’d found myself plummeting down was, however, someone did eventually toss a rope down for me. The time I spent apart from Link gave me the opportunity to properly reconcile with those whom I myself had wronged: Auntie Purah and Paya. The former and I found comfort in our mutual grieving, and even as Paya had never really known my mother well enough to mourn her loss (though, arguably, it seemed no one had ever truly known her), she was more gracious and understanding than I or anyone else would have been, which only made me regret even more deeply my past transgressions toward her.

One day, during one of our continual conversations, she shifted to the topic of the Yiga leader’s executioner. How she could even think of him at a time like this was beyond me, but I digressed. I told her everything from start to finish. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to talk to anyone about it at length. As I spoke, she listened calmly and carefully. Despite what I’d have liked to believe, she had always been the more levelheaded one out of the two of us, save for when it came to discussing things about herself.

By the time I finished, I’d begun bouncing my still healing ankle back and forth, which I’d crossed over my other leg to keep it from touching the ground. I didn’t stop even after I noticed what I was doing.

“It’s painfully clear to see how conflicted you are about all this.” Coming to sit beside me on the sofa in the Sheikahs’ sitting room, Paya placed an affectionate palm on my thigh, bringing its restless jittering to a halt. “I understand how hard this must be for you. But the way I see it, there’s only one question you need ask yourself at the end of the day.”

Whatever she was about to say, it wouldn’t be an easy pill to swallow, would it? I straightened my posture. “And what would that be?”

“Between the two of them, who do you think was the better person?”

She was looking me dead in the eyes, her hand still resting upon my leg. I uncrossed them.

I’d never thought to compare the two before. What reason would I have had to do so? But now that she’d mentioned it, I hadn’t realized how few memories I even had left of my mother, and the ones that remained were blurry and vague beyond any hope of being recovered. If only she hadn’t left me with the Sheikahs all those years ago, maybe I could have remembered more clearly what kind of person she had been.

On the other hand, Link had always been there for me. Even during the times when circumstances had driven us apart, the thought of him was what had kept my flame burning strong and hot throughout each arctic day, and what had protected me from myself, keeping me from doing the irreparable. He had stayed by my side to the bitter end.

No matter how I’d reflected back on that day previously, the sight of his steely, focused stare and the sound of his crazed breaths, short and sharp, had been ever dominant. But now, I recalled the way those eyes had then glazed over with unadulterated horror. How his arms had shivered as they’d clung to my broken form and how they’d continue to cling for what would feel like millennia until the rest of his unit would finally stumble upon the scene.

My stepsister-of-sorts gave my leg a soft squeeze as I looked back at her with a tremor in my lip. “He s...saved me,” I whimpered. “Didn’t he?”

After a month apart, I made plans with Link for a night out on the pier, where we would celebrate the end of the Organization. The ice cream I’d promised him was at the top of my list of priorities for the evening. Tonight was a dessert-first night anyway, I’d decided. From there, we went and found ourselves a bite to eat at a seafood restaurant within walking distance. I’d hoped eating with him would feel like old times, but he hardly spoke a word throughout the whole meal. I tried lightening the mood with some banter, but this proved ineffective when he brushed off everything I said with mere one or two-word replies.

It wasn’t until I’d gotten us both a bit of something to drink that he finally broke the silence. “Have you...” he started, but lost the confidence to continue.

I perked up at the sound of his voice, wanting to hear more of it. “Have I...?”

“A-Ah...” His fingers poked at the copious amount of chips piled onto his plate next to the practically untouched fillet of fried fish. “I was just wondering if you’ve thought about what you’re going to do now, since...you know...you’re not a detective anymore.”

“Ah, right. That.” I took another sip of my drink, its contents long having fled my memory. “Actually, my auntie talked about it with me and she said she’d consider letting me inherit the company once I’ve acquired the proper education. So to answer your question, I’m thinking about going to school for engineering.”

His brows rose. “Oh! My, that’s—” He cleared his throat. “That’s brilliant. I’m happy for you.”

I thanked him with a hesitant grin, then asked, “How about you? Do you plan to stay on with the force, or...?”

“Ahh, well...” What little there’d been of an upward turn in his lips vanished. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. It’s something I’ve been mulling over for a while now. Whether to stay on and honour my father’s work, or...whatever other options are available, I suppose.”

“Do you want to hear what I think?” He raised his head. “I think you should do whatever you think would make you happiest. That’s what you’re father would have wanted, I’m sure.”

This finally, finally, got a real, unsubdued smile out of him. And I intended to milk that smile for all it was worth.

After dinner, I dragged him back down to the arcade on the pier, where I managed to ring a few laughs out of him while we were still a bit tipsy. We steered clear of the toy gun target-type games, favouring other stands like the ring toss where he won me a plush frog that I could only just get my arms all the way around. His aim was spectacular, especially for someone who wasn’t entirely sober. Not only that, but I could never have imagined how sweet and charming he would be like this. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though we’d gone back in time again. That, or the light from the setting sun was playing tricks on me.

But by the end of the evening, he’d reverted back to that quiet, reclusive version of himself that I’d quickly grown to detest. We were out on the docks now, facing the sea. The breeze carried a mist of saltwater within its bows. I breathed it in, soaking up the feeling of it hitting me softly and coolly in the face. A hint of pink in my partner’s cheeks caught my eye, and I wondered whether it was the cocktails or my arms, which were currently wound about his waist from behind.

“Beautiful sunset,” I tried, hoping I could get him to spare me a glance at least. “Isn’t it?” But to no avail. He only continued to gaze westward at the rippling flames reflected in the water. “Hey...” Before I knew what I was doing, my palm had found the warmth of his cheek, and there was hardly an inch or two of distance between the tips of our noses. Without giving myself time to think, I tilted my head, leaned in, and started to close my eyes.

But when I realized he wasn’t doing the same, I halted. On the contrary, he’d been leaning back and away from my advances, his back so rigid and shoulders so stiff it were as though he would sprout wings and bolt were I to make any sudden moves.

“What’s wrong?”

A harsh, jagged exhale. “Zelda, I just can’t—” He grabbed both my wrists and wrenched my arms off of him. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this.” He was bent over the railing, arms folded in on each other. “Not now,” he said, dwindling, “after I’ve gone and...murdered your only family.” A weary chuckle shook him by the shoulders before he raked his hands through his wind-tousled hair.

I fell into quiet thought for a moment. Then, taking a long, thorough breath, I placed a feather-light set of fingertips atop his own. “That woman was never my family.” I’d made up my mind. Figuratively or otherwise, my real mother had moved on a long time ago. And it was time I did the same.

Link must have seen the resolve in my eyes or heard it in my voice, because now he was looking back at me openly, his body turned to face me. Though there was still an air of uncertainty lingering about him as he ran the crease of his cuff between his fingers again and again. But when I brought my arms around him and held him close, he sank into my lips, returning my embrace at long last. A lone pair of tears fell from my eyes the moment they fluttered closed—a culmination of all past ordeals—and as they fell, I couldn’t help but smile.

[acatpersonapparently]

Jemtoria Angel AU: part 3

i.

The scent of freshly cut grass and ripe tomatoes surround Victoria in the sweet soft morning. Her hand gently works the wing of a mourning dove. Over the blade of the scapula and soft coverts. It has been three days since her newest little bird entered her coop.

She doesn’t even know why she did that.

Even after so much time, human still sits in a distorted shape in her throat. The bird in her lap stirs and coos, she’s not sure how to even exist near someone else. A dry breeze ruffles the air, blowing her hair into her eyes. She pushes the sudden blonde curtain away with a sigh, turning her gaze to her garden.

There’s the warm glow of bright red hair hiding behind her vegetables. If Victoria had to guess, the girl got up with the sun and busied herself in the soil before her alarm woke Victoria up. The dove in her lap chirps and fusses. Victoria hushes it and resumes her gentle ministrations.

How best to heal this bird?

ii.

Jemima has lived at the house with the blue door for a week and she already knows how every day will go:

-She will wake up first and head out to the garden.

-At 8:00AM, Victoria’s alarm clock will go off and some time in the next thirty minutes, the scent of bacon will waft out the kitchen window.

-By 9:00AM, her silent benefactor will step outside to greet her birds and tend to them, filling feeders and water bowls, examining hurt wings. That’s when Jemima will tend to flower bushes on the far side of the yard.

-10:45AM is the latest that Victoria leaves for work. Jemima can then head back inside before the sun gets too high and hot. She’ll find some leftover bacon on a plate left for her.

-Most of the time while Victoria is at work, Jemima reads or watches TV. She tried snooping around, looking around the house for anything fun or weird, but there’s nothing. No knick knacks, pictures, paintings. She couldn’t even find a stray ID or a letter.

-Sometime after 11PM, the door will slowly creak open and Victoria will walk through, open one of the beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and melt down into one of the wooden chairs at the small dining table. Jemima will lower the volume on the TV and, when she’s feeling brave, says hello. She never gets a response. The first time they spoke is also the only time they’ve spoke. She will get a polite wave or, if she asks a question, a nod or a shake.

-Victoria will wash out her bottle, place it in the bin, and shower at midnight. The soft shuffle of her feet always preceding Victoria before she appears to give Jemima a nightly goodnight wave and following her off as she heads to bed.

(There’s a few unexpected moments during her days. During a sleepy morning, she sees Victoria through the flowers, she sees her smile as a mountain bluebird nuzzles against her cheek. From peeping over a rosebush, the image is ethereal. If her father was half as resplendent, she understands why her mother was drawn in.)

iii.

Victoria didn’t mean to do it.

She didn’t mean to see anything.

There was some lemonade leftover at work so she brought it over and just wanted to know if Jem wanted some. She didn’t find the redhead in the living room so she had to be in her bedroom, so she just opened the door.

(She should not have opened the door.)

Victoria knows what her own back looks like. Catching brief glimpses of it in the mirror before stepping into the shower. Bone and blackened tissue that ached heavily, a rotted shadow of a symbol of Heaven’s glory. If Father’s intention was a mark of shame, he did a pretty damn good job.

Jemima’s was different (worse?)

White feathers molting, red raw patches, tufts of down sprouting up and down her back and across her shoulder blades. The waif was surrounded in a circle of white like fresh fallen snow. Victoria gags. Her stomach in instant upheaval at the sight. The tips of her fingers go numb as the moisture leaves her mouth. Her feet acted before she could think and she ran.

(She should not have ran.)

The birds open their wings and take to the sky when she reaches outside. She breathes deep, her chest aches, she tries to focus her thoughts. Her mind parsing through every microdetail with as much scrutiny in her panicked ability as she can get together. She looks up at the night sky and into the eyes of all the bright twinkling stars and, for the first time, she feels like they’re looking back at her.

Oh God, she’s not alone.

iv.

Jemima knows what happens next. She stuffs her bag with all of her belongings. All she needs to do is find another place to live. It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Her eyes watch the open doorway of her bedroom.

And, eventually, just like she expected, Victoria reappears with red eyes.

She waits for the cruel familiar sting of monster but Victoria just stares at her with these eyes, this cruel pitiful expression.

I- I can just go. I’m sorry. Jemima lowers her eyes and moves to push past the other girl. It’s all too bitterly predictable.

No. Victoria grabs her wrists so fiercely Jemima is sure that she’s about to be dragged into town to be burned at a stake. Please, stay.

And Jemima did not expect that.

v.

Between the two of us, we probably have enough for a set of wings, is the first thing Jemima says to her when Victoria shows her the withered afterimage of her wings. Victoria doesn’t know how to react in any way but laughter and it feels rusty in her throat, but good, really good.

Turns out holiness isn’t a factor in being a good dad and that seems to be a universal truth.

Victoria grabs two beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge and the two of them lay out in the garden, drinking to stories about how the shadow of divinity has taunted them. They yell into the void of the night sky at fathers that have fucked them over and what’s the point of abandoning them with enough holy to bitter the blood? Victoria grabs them another round when they start talking about how humanity is just another set of stone shackled to their ankles.

They’re still wiping away the tears from the last set of ab-aching laughter when Jemima asks Victoria what heaven feels like.Victoria hums to herself, a little tipsy, and sinks into the grass.

It feels a little like this, I guess.

vi.

Jemima has lived at the house with the blue door for three months. Long enough for hot dry summer to roll in and for the summer plants to start blooming. She has no idea how her day is going to go.

Last week, Victoria took her into town to get her new clothes. A few days before that, she came home with a blanket and a tub of ice cream for her. They had stayed up late that night because ice cream is received with enthusiasm, even by former servants of a deity.

(The two other colours are two different flavours? This Neopolitan guy is really smart, Jem)

Jemima finds herself waiting at the dinner table, an open beer at the seat across from her, waiting for someone to fill it. The clock hits 10:30 and the front door bursts open. Victoria rushing in to hug Jemima before helping herself to her beer.

Jemima had no idea that someone being excited to hug you could feel as good as a hug itself

That night, they curl up in front of the artificial glow of the television. Victoria offers to share a blanket with Jemima as the redhead scoots under it with pink-tinged cheeks. Throughout the night, Victoria’s breath warms the side of Jemima’s face as she leans in to whisper the occasional question about the television.

(Jemima is suddenly worried about spontaneous combustion cause that’s what this feels like, right? Right?)

Jemima wakes up before the sun rises like she always does. She doesn’t move an inch, coveting this moment in a never-ending form. The soft babble of the television, Victoria’s warmth snug against her, birds chirping outside. She looks around the small house and she can’t believe how much light its contains

Victoria’s eyes flutter open way too soon but it makes Jemima brighten up with what feels like the goofiest smile. Victoria returns it.

Good morning.

Good morning to you too.

What are you thinking about?

Do you know what happens at 4:30AM? You turn gold.

vii.

Victoria hit the earth crying for heaven. Her halo rests crooked.

Jemima's earliest memory was of the sun. Her mother is tearing fistfuls of feathers from her back again.

The girls are wrist-deep in the warm rich soil, worms dripping from the gaps between their fingers in every handful of dirt. They've managed to turn the air into music, permeated with the singing of birds and bursts of deep chest laughter. There was nothing in any hymnal that could rival it. Victoria sits back on her knees, removing her wide-brimmed hat to push down her sweaty hair. She looks up at the sky, vast and inviting.

(What’s wrong?)

It’s not easy, it hasn’t been easy. Half-angels and monster-girls creeping along the spine of the world made for Adam and Eve. There are dark moments: their bed brimming with nightmares and past memories on darkest nights, flinching and holding each other tighter when they’re in town, fat wet tears running down Jemima’s cheeks the first time Victoria acts on the urge to kiss her.

(I’ve been so lonely and so angry and so angry about being alone. I’ve been angry for so long that I- I’m not sure who I am without it.)

But, those good moments, those good glorious moments. Victoria has gawked at rapidly expanding nebulae, she’s stood with her brothers and sisters as gravity collapsed in on itself in an instant and formed neutron stars and black holes, she’s blown the last wisps of steam from a black star cupped in her palms. None of them are as good as Jemima waiting for her when she gets home, or when Jem reminds her that a proper diet includes more than bacon. The light dripping from those big brown eyes every time she showed Vic another sprout pushing to the sun from under the damp earth was something Victoria could savour until the world tires of spinning.

(I can’t promise you that I know who you are without it either, but I can promise that you’ll never be lonely again. A-and I’ve technically been a part of a hivemind since time began, so maybe we can find out who we are together? If you don’t mind staying here a little longer, that is.)

Alongside a narrow dirt road, fifteen minutes from the edge of town, there is a house with a blue door and a beautiful front garden of newly blossoming life and birds taking flight on recovered wings. The doormat has bright yellow lettering, written by two different hands, together.

Heaven is a place on earth.

[heyyy-hey-babyyy]

When We Were Young (part IX)

Dean x Fem!Reader; Sam x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Read part I here ; Read part II here ; Read part III here ;

Read part IV here ; Read part V here ; Read part VI here ;

Read part VII here ; Read part VIII here

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of trauma/abuse, brief moments of self-harm, mentions of anxiety attack, *moments of assault*

**This chapter contains mentions of assault. Please be aware if this is trigging for you!

B/N: I’m getting a little lost in my own timeline, so apologies for any inaccuracies... All mistakes I claim as my own.

Summary: Dean, Sam, and Y/N grew up together, but when she’s taken away for over 10 years, the boys have no idea what she’s been through. Will asking her to move into the bunker with them reveal more than she’s ready for?

Cas stood abruptly as Dean came down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was exhausted, but it wasn’t in him to even think about sleeping when a monster was still very much on the loose. Sam remained seated on the couch, his head resting in his hands, looking every bit as exhausted and distraught as Dean felt. From the living room, Dean could see Bobby sitting at his desk nursing a glass of amber liquid, sure to be whiskey of some kind. Dean wanted to stay level headed for the moment, but would no doubt fall asleep with a bottle of his own later. 

“Dean,” Cas nodded toward him, offering him his seat on the couch next to his brother, but Dean waved him off, choosing to stand, crossing his arms over his chest. Cas nodded curtly recognizing that Dean was waiting for him to tell the story. 

“While we were speaking, Dean, I heard a woman’s voice asking God to save her from her pain. As you know, I have never spoken with Y/N and I do not know her, but I felt that she was the woman you, Sam, and Bobby were looking for. And she was in profound pain. So I left without word. I do apologize for that, Dean.” Cas gave Dean his signature sorrowful eyes, head tilt thrown in, and Dean waved him off again, letting him know it was fine and that he should continue. Cas didn’t break eye contact with Dean, and though it unnerved him, he let the man continue to stare while he told the story. 

“When I arrived, I was in some sort of underground dungeon in western South Dakota. The building above was abandoned, but the dungeon was very much operational. I appeared directly in front of the woman who had prayed for me, who I realized had to be Y/N. I introduced myself as Castiel, angel of the Lord, and healed her---” 

Dean held up a hand to stop him abruptly, and Cas shut his mouth instantly. “What kind of wounds did she have, Cas?” Sam looked up at his brother questioningly, and Dean merely shook his head telling him silently to ‘leave it.’ Cas looked uncomfortable with the question, but answered anyway, knowing evading Dean was impossible, when he wanted answers. 

“She was chained up by the wrists, so I healed the burns and scrapes from the shackles. It appeared that she spent a few hours on her knees, so I healed the scrapes and swelling there...” Cas trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t have to continue, and glancing at the older Winchester. Though Dean looked distraught, he motioned for Cas to keep talking. Cas took in a huge breath of air before continuing. 

“She had a few internal injuries that seemed to have come from rough intercourse and I healed those wounds as well.” 

Sam stood to his feet, pacing around the living room with an angry look on his face. When Dean glanced into the office, he saw that Bobby was gone, having walked away when Cas finished his retelling. Sam continued to pace back and forth looking like he wanted to punch someone or something, and Cas looked ashamed and guilty for his side of the situation. Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, silently thanking him, and Cas nodded once in response. 

“Do you know where the monster went, Cas?” Sam asked finally, turning to face the two men, his eyebrows creased together in thought. Cas merely shook his head before speaking. 

“I wrapped Y/N in my coat and came instantly back here. I apologize, I should have investigated more, but it didn’t seem like any creature or human was present at the scene when I appeared.” Sam nodded, continuing to pace and Dean clapped Cas on the back again with a quick, “it’s not your fault.” Cas nodded again, when he suddenly became serious, a far-off look in his eye. 

“Y/N is waking up, Dean. I can feel her anxiety.” Dean nodded, leaving the two men and Bobby, wherever he was, to deal with the next steps, as he bounded up the stairs toward where Y/N was. 

---------

When you woke, you realized you recognized the room, but you still felt fear and adrenaline course through your veins, realizing the last thing you remember was being shackled to the ceiling in Greg’s dungeon. You didn’t sit up, but began to sob remembering the day you just had, which felt like a lifetime ago. Though you didn’t feel any pain, the memories of the dungeon were etched permanently into your memory, and you gasped shooting into a sitting position when you remembered what Greg had done to you... What he made you think Dean did to you. Dean. 

As if you had actually called out for him, Dean appeared in the doorway, and you shrunk back some into the bed, your mind screaming at you to run. Dean seemed a bit shocked to see you sitting up in bed, and came toward you slowly. 

“Stop.” You said lowly, but Dean didn’t hear you, taking a few more steps toward you. 

“Stop!” You repeated loudly, hearing heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs in response to your yells. 

“Dean,” You repeated exasperated, needing to find some way to tell that it was really him, despite your body telling you to run far away from him. Sam, Cas, and Bobby appeared at the door, and you relaxed. 

“Can I talk to Sam? Alone.” You spit out, seeing the light go out behind Dean’s eyes. You felt horrible, but he would need to understand, and would fully understand soon, you just needed to talk to someone. Though Castiel would be a good candidate being that he found you, you were leery of the angel as well, especially now as he stared at you with those bright blue eyes. Dean nodded, turning on his heel and ushering the angel and whiskey drunk Bobby away from the door. 

Sam came fully into the room and closed the door behind him, before approaching the bed. Tears began to well in your eyes as you thought about telling Sam the truth of what happened to you, and you launched yourself into his arms, pulling yourself into his lap so you could bury your head into the crook of his shoulder and neck, breathing in the scent of home. Sam wrapped his arms tight around you and held you close to him, finally breathing after hours of worrying. 

In Sam’s firm hold, you let yourself fall apart. “What am I going to do, Sam?” You wailed, sobbing harder thinking about the look on Dean’s face when you essentially kicked him out of the room. You had to find a way to know that he was the real Dean. It should be him comforting you right now, you thought to yourself.

“Tell me what happened, Y/N.” Though it wasn’t a question, Sam’s voice was gentle and even. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll help.” 

You pulled away from him a bit, looking into dark blue eyes, gathering your strength from the younger hunter, who had been through so much in his life as well. 

“He posed as Dean, Sam... He took my worst fears and heightened them to something I could never even imagine.” Sam didn’t look shocked at your confession, but nodded his head, understanding where your confusion was coming from. 

You hiccuped a little controlling your tears for the moment. “Dean would never hurt me.” You stated more to yourself than anything, but you knew mantras and words would never ease the panic you felt deep in your veins when you saw Dean standing in the doorway. 

Sam nodded again understanding, digging in his front pocket. You looked at him questioningly before he spoke. 

“None of us would ever hurt you, Y/N. I know you know this in your soul, but I recognize not being able to convince your mind that Dean isn’t the shifter with what you’ve been through.” He looked at you seriously, and though you saw emotion, none of it was pity, and you thanked him silently with your eyes.

“You don’t have to take only my word, I can show you both your dad, my dad, and Bobby’s journals that confirm, but silver makes a shifters skin burn, much like holy water on a demon.” You looked deep into Sam’s eyes, knowing he would never lie to you, but wanting the confirmation anyway. Seeing that he had your attention, he held up a simple silver ring, looking away guiltily before continuing. 

“When we lost you, I was afraid something like this would happen. That the shifter would pose as someone close to you to hurt you, so I had Bobby find me a silver ring. Wear this, and if you are ever unsure if one of us is a shifter you can simply grab our arms and wait for the sizzle.” He smiled softy when you grabbed the ring and slipped it onto your right hand ring finger, feeling a weight lift off your body a bit, knowing you were that much safer with this on your body. 

“Thank you, Sam.” You responded simply, wrapping one arm around his neck, and the other grabbing his wrist lightly, testing the touch of the silver against his skin. He chuckled under your hold, and you both watched his arm for any sort of reaction, even though you knew there wouldn’t be. You looked satisfied, so he lifted you lightly off of his lap and stood, gesturing toward the door.

“Do you want to test the ring more?” You glanced down at the simple silver circle and nodded, wanting more than anything to be in Dean Winchester’s arms. The real Dean Winchester.

—————

When Sam told Dean that Y/N wanted to see him, he looked skeptical, staring silently at his brother and asking him ‘why now?’ Sam simply pointed toward the stairs and told his brother to “go,” indicating that he would find out soon enough. 

Dean finished the whiskey in his glass in one large gulp, gaining a bit of courage to face the woman who he wanted nothing more than to hold, but had kicked him out moments before. 

Dean looked anxious as he stood in the door, waiting for you to tell him what his next move should be, and you motioned for him to come sit on the bed with you. He hesitated, but stepped forward slowly, like he had before, perching on the very end of the bed, as far away from you as he could get, and still be on the bed. You didn’t blame his hesitation, you had some of your own, as you took in what you needed to be the real Dean Winchester in this moment. Crawling forward hesitantly to sit up on your knees, you pushed Dean’s shoulder so he was facing you, one leg moving up on the bed, and wrapped an arm around his neck, the other gripping lightly at his bare wrist so the ring was touching it, like you had done to Sam. Dean kept his hands to himself for the moment watching you, and you waited for any sign of the sizzle of skin, holding your breath.

When none came you threw yourself at Dean, straddling his lap and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. Dean was frozen for a few seconds, until he let out a breath of air, and wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could mirroring your position and planting a few chaste kisses against your pulse point. You groaned quietly, feeling heat rush through your body and grabbed fistfuls of Dean’s shirt, grounding yourself in the moment. This was Dean, he passed the test, it’s really him. You’re safe.

Dean felt your body begin to shake, and he pulled away, taking your face in his, and you turned and kissed his palm, giving him a small smile, which he returned, eyes filled with tears, grateful that you were in front of him. You leaned forward and kissed his lips, ignoring the way your body lurched back when he reacted and deepened the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip. You wanted more than anything for him to help you forget, but you couldn’t take this any further until he understood what had happened. Again. You didn’t have the security of Dean’s room at the bunker, or the darkness to shield you from what you were about to tell the man you loved, but you weren’t worried about the way he would view you. Rather you were scared of how much Dean would beat himself up over what you were about to say. 

You pulled back lightly, licking your lips and savoring the flavor of sweet whiskey and Dean on your mouth. Dean was staring at you intently, almost like he wasn’t believing you were actually here, and you rubbed at his shoulders in response, to remind him that you were real. And you were safe. 

“Dean,” you started, staring into his forest green eyes. “I have to tell you what happened...” You were suddenly hesitant, not knowing how to relive the worst moment of your life. Dean squeezed gently at your hips, letting you know he was there for you, but he spoke up as well. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything, baby. Cas told--” 

“I have to tell you my side of the story, Dean. Castiel wasn’t there for it.” You cut him off, and he nodded looking guilty for saying anything. You picked at a loose thread on Dean’s flannel while you found the right words. 

“I had just been sitting on the Impala when he grabbed me, and I woke up in some kind of damp room, shackled to the ceiling.” You had finally found your courage to get it all out and the words were suddenly pouring from your lips, Dean hanging on to every one. 

“He only took off my clothes the first time he visited. But when he came back the second, I knew he was going to take what he wanted. I resisted and he told me that he wanted me to enjoy it as well. And with that he turned into you...” You trailed off, getting emotional now, wrapped up in the moment you looked into the hunter’s green eyes, thinking you were finally being saved. 

“What!” Dean yelled, making you jump. He didn’t move to get up, but you could feel the anger radiating off of him, and he worked hard to contain himself as he waited for you to tell the rest of the story. But you simply placed your head back into the crook of his neck, hoping he could fill in the blanks himself this time. You laid soft kisses along his collarbone, hoping to release the tension in his shoulders, but he was long gone, surely imagining nothing but sinking a knife into Greg. 

You were getting tired as you clung onto Dean, exhausted from the day, and from retelling your story. Your emotions felt out of control, and you wanted nothing more than a deep, dreamless sleep. One that only came from being held by Dean. 

He shifted lightly when he felt you yawn against his neck, and moved to lay you back on the bed, when you grabbed onto his arm. 

“Stay with me.” You stated, peering up at Dean. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly and he nodded, moving to the other side of the bed, and stripped down to his simple black shirt and boxer briefs. He sprawled out on his back, and reached for you, pulling you to lay your head against his chest, where you could hear the comforting thump thump thump of his heart. You were asleep in minutes. 

Dean, however, laid awake, plotting the long, slow torture of the thing that hurt you. 

When We Were Young Tag List: @vicmc624 @woundedxsmile @akshi8278 @supernatural3002

Read Part X here!

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Two

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: Hey everybody!!! It’s been a hot minute. We’ve been busy lately between work and life and all that fun stuff but here’s a new chapter <3

A/N: So we’re changing a lil bit up, and adding more characters, specifically the gods as we’ve been doing more world building lately. These Gods are also from my own WIP, but have also found their way here!

“I just don’t understand why you need specific wood from a specific place for the crib,” Lev muttered, splashing the water with his foot as he watched Nik paddle around. Nik still wore a large shirt even in the pool, as if Lev and Cameron didn’t know he was pregnant.

"Well, Lev," Nik said. "Not all of us are okay with using hand-me-downs from four hundred years ago. Some of us like new shiny things for new shiny parasites- I say with love- and besides, its native to Tullum. It's home; at least as close to home as I'll likely get."

Lev huffed. “I didn’t mean that you had to get hand-me-downs, if you don’t want to. But I figured asking for wood specific to a region of angel territory when neither of us can go to retrieve it... It’s just a big fuss to make, I guess.” He braced his hands on the side of the pool, leaning forward a bit. “I don’t- Cameron had lots of very pretty options, is all, I guess.”

Nik arched a brow, eyeing him dryly. "And where, exactly, do you think some of those woods come from, Levant?"

Lev hesitated. “I assumed demonic territory?” he finally said, very unsure of the answer now.

Nik splashed Lev with enough force Lev was drenched, spluttering. Before he could think of how to respond, Cameron popped Lev gently on the back of his head. Lev hadn’t even noticed Cameron approach.

As Lev looked up, Cameron simply said, “Come inside. Biela requires your presence. Both of you.”

Lev stood, looking back to Nik, who was hauling himself out of the pool. Since Nik had already soaked him, Lev tucked himself against Nik’s side as they went inside.

Biela was standing in the kitchen. Without looking at them, she simply said, “Take a seat.”

Lev peeled away and settled in a chair, but Nik folded his arms over his stomach, which was beginning to show by that point, and said, "And why should-"

Cameron sliced Nik a look. "Nikolas, sit the fuck down."

At those cold words, Nik promptly sat on the nearest stool without another word.

Lev reached for Nik’s hand. Something told him he would not like whatever Biela had to say. Nik’s fingers tightened around his briefly as they waited for Biela to speak.

Biela fixed her dark gaze on Nik first. “I’m assuming you are keeping the fetus.”

It wasn’t a brief squeeze this time. “Why?” Nik asked sharply.

“Nik,” Lev said softly.

Biela held up a hand in Lev’s direction. “Because I'm also assuming you'd want to know the magic used to bring your boyfriend back from the dead poisoned my lands and is killing countless children. That's why."

Cold washed over Lev, colder than the death that he knew still tugged at his bones. “What?” he blurted, barely a whisper.

"You," Biela said, squarely looking Lev in the eye, "And your cousin and that witch played with forces beyond your control and decided to poison my lands with your greed because you just couldn't leave death well enough alone. I figured since your mate is currently pregnant, that you might want to know what is happening to the infants being born. Much like Nik's infant soon enough."

Lev risked swinging his attention to Cameron, eyes wide. He knew he was digging his nails into Nik’s hand as he searched Cameron’s expression, but for the most part it was unreadable, the usual shrouded calculation flickering in his eyes. Lev looked back to Biela after a moment.

“I didn’t know,” he finally said, voice small.

“Clearly not. You seem to know nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said, finally shifting his attention to Nik. “I’m sorry.”

The blood had drained from Nik’s face. “You’re lying,” he said, the words a harsh counterpoint to Lev’s whispered apology.

"And why would I lie about such a thing?"

"Because you despise me, and you loathe Lev and want any excuse to put Lev back in the ground."

Biela’s mouth curled in a non-smile. "If I was going to put your precious Lev back where he belonged, I'd do so without needing such a cruel lie. I'd just do it."

Lev tugged on Nik’s hand. “Nik,” he said, a warning in his tone this time. “She’s right.”

Tears of anger welled in Nik's eyes. "This is bullshit. This is absolute bullshit. I just decided to keep the thing. Now you're telling me it'll die anyways?"

Greif coiled alongside the fear and guilt. “You didn’t have to tell us,” Lev said to Biela. “Thank you,” he added, before tugging at Nik again. “We’ll figure it out, Nik. You- you could stay with Nate, couldn’t you?”

Nik's mouth pressed into a thin line. "But this is my home," he said, voice breaking.

Steadily, Biela said, "Not every child has been born dead or scarred. Perhaps your blood will… protect it in some way. Healing it."

Lev pressed his face to Nik’s shoulder. “You should talk to Ash. Or Sazra. Both of them.”

Nik stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, as if it wasn’t midafternoon. Lev watched him go in silence, his heart aching.

Only once he was gone did Lev look back to Biela. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Is there anything I can do?” He meant it, knew she’d read that in his mind, and hoped it meant... something. Though he doubted it did.

Biela leaned against her palms, black hair slipping over her shoulder. "What do you think you can do? You and your cousin offer your pretty apologies while countless are dead like a few well placed 'sorries' will give parents their young once more. I highly doubt putting you back where you belong would solve it, and as I promised your cousin, I wouldn't. You will live with your actions and you will think about how this has affected my kingdom. And you will think about how my mercy has been the only thing keeping you with a home. Not even your own people want you. And now, you're a mass murderer to my people. That is what you can do."

Her words hurt, as they were meant to, he was sure, but he heard no untruth. “I would never assume that an apology would fix anything,” he promised carefully. “I will never forget the cost; I promise. But-” He hesitated. “I know most demons don’t appreciate an angels healing. I have the magic to spare, if it is ever useful. I understand that- it’s not- it’s all I can offer.”

Biela arched a brow. "I'll keep it in mind. If there's something to make you useful, I'll look into it. It's the least you can do."

“It is,” Lev agreed, grief leaking into his tone despite himself. “Thank you,” he added again, before lowering his gaze to the ground. Any more, he thought, and he might say too much.

"And you're not even crying," Biela noted. "An improvement." She straightened, readying to leave. "I'll return for our check up. I expect you to behave in the meantime."

On her way out, Cameron dipped his head in a reverent bow.

Lev waited until her footsteps faded before he looked to Cameron. “What are we going to do?” he asked.

All Cameron said was, "Survive."

-----

After nearly a week of Amara seemingly dodging every appointment Ash tried setting up with her, Ash decidedly went to see Nik so he didn't hunt her down and wring her neck. It seemed like the better alternative.

It was Lev who answered the door. Hesitantly, Lev asked, "Am I allowed to talk to you?"

"Well," Ash said, looking over Lev’s head, "if you weren't, you'd be a little too late now. Where's Nik?"

Lev flushed, cheeks going a blotchy gold. “In bed,” he said, sounding sad. “I’m assuming you heard, then.”

Ash blinked. "Heard what? I just needed to check on him. Did something happen to Nik?" He asked, shouldering his way past Lev. "Is he alright?"

“Oh.” Lev seemed to hesitate. “Fine. Nik is. I think. I mean, he is, but-” His voice got smaller and smaller. “Whatever Cyrus did to bring me back- the magic- infants are dying. Not making it to birth. Biela told us a few days ago. I assumed that’s why you were here. I thought Nik had taken my advice.”

At that Ash halted in place and whirled on him, face leeched white with horror and rage. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Lev flinched away. “The magic poisoned the lands,” he whispered. “The children are dying because I came back."

"I-." Ash inhaled sharply. "I told you. I told every single one of you not to do it. I hope you're fucking happy with yourself," he snapped, jabbing him in the chest. "None of you selfish assholes would listen to me and children are dead for it." Ash whirled back around and stormed his way to Nik's bedroom. "And now I need to make sure another one doesn't die because of everyone's bad choices."

Nik jolted up when Ash burned the door in place to stalk inside. He didn't give Nik a moment to speak before he started doing what he did best. "Have you been keeping everything down? Any fevers or anything beyond the usual normal pregnancy stuff?"

Nik blinked blankly at him. "How the hell am I supposed to know? Because I'm an omega? I-"

"My mistake," Ash said. "I shouldn't have asked you. Lev, has everything been normal with Niks pregnancy so far?"

Lev hovered in the charred doorway. “Other than morning sickness that Cameron and I have been keeping an eye on, everything seems fine. I didn’t think to ask Biela how the- what was happening to the parents. I was- it was a shock.”

"Oh I'm sure," he said, shortly. He turned his full focus back on Nik. "Is there any way I can convince you to come home at least until the baby is born?" When Nik shook his head, Ash sighed. "Right. Well, at least meet me for appointments every few days in Liwen. That way you get exposure outside of Demonic Lands as well as getting a better look in my office?"

Nik sat up on his elbow and watched him warily. “Papi doesn’t want me coming home, Ash.”

Ash rolled his eyes and eyed the bruising still fading from Nik’s neck. “Hm. Well. I don’t think your father is going to get to say much of anything when I hold just as much, if not more power and sway than he does. Besides, you’re not stepping foot anywhere near him, especially when you’re pregnant. I’m sure Nate would have my head. Or at the very least try.”

Nik didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I don’t want to go home.”

Ash sighed loudly. “Alright, fine then.” When Lev tried scooting his way past to Nik, Ash shoved his face away. “Move it, I’m dealing with my patient, Lev.” When Lev huffed Ash looked pointedly at him. “If that’s too much to ask,” he suggested, “then perhaps you can see yourself outside while we talk.”

Lev’s only response was making a face. “I think I’m going to go see what Cameron’s making for dinner.”

When Lev left, Ash turned his sole focus back to Nik who was still looking rather tired. “You gotta let me help,” he said. “We both know I’m the best you’re going to get when it comes to your health.”

“Dunno. Sazra seems to know plenty.”

“Sazra hasn’t seen the light of day in well over a thousand years. That,” he said, “and from what you’ve told me, Sazra also wants to string you up by your balls. Your physiology is different from demons and as great as a healer I’m sure she is, I am your healer and I’m not trusting a demon to take care of you when I’ve known you for the last nineteen years.”

Nik waved him off. “Figure it out, Ash. I don’t want to leave.”

“Because of Lev?” Ash asked, pointedly.

“And if it is?” Nik shot back.

“Then you’re making stupid choices for your baby.”

Nik almost looked like Ash hit him. Ash tried to reel back from that very poor choice of words, but even if he was successful at it, he still didn’t regret them. It was the truth especially when there were millions of infants dead because Ash didn’t stop Amara or Cyrus and now Nik was in the line of fire for his own inactions. “Look,” Ash warned, “if you won’t come back then I’m moving in here and I will make everyone who lives in this house as miserable as physically possible.”

“Like Cameron would let you.“

Ash scoffed. “You think I’m afraid of Wonder Bread Cameron? I get what I want and what I currently want won’t come back with me.”

Nik’s brows shot up at that, but before he could say anything Lev came slinking his way back into the room. “Mami’s actually in charge of dinner tonight so Cameron’s in his office. He looks kinda grumpy.”

“Surprise of surprises, I’m sure,” Ash said. He looked back to Nik. “So what is it, you coming with me voluntarily or am I moving in here against all of your wills?” When Nik stared at him in stony silence, Ash took that as answer enough. He got up from the bed and shouldered his way past Lev.

----

Ash was still being cranky, and Nik was still in bed. Lev wasn’t stupid enough enough to bother Cameron again, and so when he heard Eden waking up from her afternoon nap he decided to go pick her up before she upset the whole house with her fussing.

Even if he was supposed to be limiting how much he picked her up.

After some well placed smacks for not getting to her soon enough, Eden buried her face in his shoulder with a half-awake growl. Lev gave her a little bounce and settled in the rocking chair, toy in hand to offer her when she bothered to lift her head.

Only when several minutes had passed did Eden finish her little sniffle-growls and take the stuffed bear. Within seconds the ear was detached.

Lev sighed as he fished it out of her mouth. Eden took the chance to sink her little teeth into his finger, hard enough to draw blood. Before Lev could pull away, Eden gave a pleased shriek, little nails digging into his hand to keep him there. Despite the surprising amount of strength the toddler had, he managed to get free, in time for Ash to stick his head in the room, eyes glowing enough of a bright green that Lev was quite sure Ash was seeing just fine.

“I just can't seem to leave you alone for five minutes without you nearly getting killed by demons,” Ash grumbled.

Lev shrugged, catching Eden’s little hand before she could smack him again. “Hitting isn’t nice, bitty girl.”

She simply screeched in his face, and then thunked her forehead on his shoulder, giggling.

Lev looked up at Ash. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he said as Eden took her bear back and began the gruesome work of beheading it. “Well, I mean- I wasn’t sure how to because I wasn’t sure if we were allowed to talk, and then you needed to check on Nik, and-” He paused, blinking hard. “Rambling. Sorry. I’m trying to work on that. I remembered things, about when I was dead.” He pressed a kiss to Eden’s head to buy himself some time to order his thoughts, and then went on. “I met Nature. During that time I was hesitating. And they talked to me.”

“Oh? And you didn’t bother to tell me this sooner?”

Lev winced. From what he’d gathered from the conversation with Nature, the link between Ash and the god ran deeper than Lev had ever realized. Not that Lev had ever really paid attention to it. He’d never been particularly close to Nature himself; he was starting to regret not trying to forge a connection with the only god the angels had. Maybe his magic would have been easier to access, stronger even, if he had.

“I didn’t remember for a long time,” he finally said to Ash. “But I do now, so I’m telling you.”

It’d been an intense conversation, for sure. He could see a lot of Ash in Nature. Or maybe there was a lot of Nature in Ash. Lev wasn’t too sure how the mechanics of it worked. Nature had all but berated him for dragging his feet. Just from past experience they knew if the spell failed it’d have unimaginable consequences, and Lev now knew just how bad it could have been.

“I promised them I would be the last resurrection,” he told Ash. “And I said if that failed, that I’d help take some of the- the punishment you suffered. It’s not fair for you to be in that much pain on your own.”

“Ya think?” Ash snipped.

Lev took a small breath, and then replied calmly, “I really am sorry, Ash. It was the least I could do, I thought.”

Ash rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Tell me everything you talked about.”

“A lot of it was... kind of scolding. About trying to come back,” Lev admitted. “And telling me there were going to be consequences either way. They laid out exactly what you went through while not stopping us.” Lev cleared his throat. “I- that's when I offered. To help shoulder the pain.” After tucking his cheek against Edens hair, he held up a hand, weaving his shadows through his fingers with ease. “I think that might be why my magic is stronger. I was going to try to- to find more ways to connect with them, but I’ll have to wait until I can go back to angelic territory now, I think.”

“Why? There’s temples here.”

“Oh. I didn’t-” He stopped, frowned. “I don’t know much about demons and the gods-” He sighed this time. “I’m still on house arrest. I’m not allowed to leave until Biela deems me not a security risk.”

Ash lifted a brow. “Aren’t you in a relationship with a demon?”

“We’ve never had a conversation about religion, Ash,” Lev said with an even deeper frown. “I don’t think Cameron’s particularly religious. I guess I could ask him about the demonic gods. All I know is that they’re where demons get their magic, like we do from Nature.”

“They have a name, you know,” Ash said. Lev couldn’t figure out if he sounded irritated or tired. “It’s Asmi.”

Lev flushed. “I- I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat, and said more firmly, “No one really calls them by their name, but I should- I should have asked.”

“Probably,” Ash said drily. “And technically they’re not even the god of nature.”

Lev stood up, bouncing Eden on his hip. “They aren’t?” He asked. “That’s what we were taught in primary school, I’m sorry.”

“Primary school?” Ash said. If Lev didn’t know better, he was teasing him now. Crankily, sure, but still.

Rather than dignify that with an answer, Lev gave up and let a very wiggly Eden down to crawl around the nursery.

“Asmi is the god of balance,” Ash finally said. “They’re tied to the earth. Anything falls out of balance, and we’re all affected. That’s probably where the angels got nature from.”

“Makes sense why the teachers simplified it like that, I suppose,” Lev replied. “If it’s- if it’s not too much trouble, could you teach me more, whenever you get the chance?”

“Sure. Looks like I’m rooming with you for the foreseeable future anyway.”

“Thank you,” Lev said, smiling at Ash. He didn’t get one in return, but considering the amount of pain Ash had gone through in the past several months because of Lev, he didn’t blame Ash. Not one bit.

~~~

There was only so much of Nik’s day being spent in bed Lev could stand before he felt restless himself. Even taking care of Eden couldn’t shake his inherent need to be a busy body. So when it occurred to him that Nik had not yet actually celebrated his pregnancy, he decided it was high time something good be associated with Nik’s pregnancy.

After all, it was tradition.

Lev waited until Eden was down for her nap to corner Cameron and Ash in the kitchen. “I think Nik deserves a baby shower,” he said without preamble. “And I think we should throw him one.”

“Of course you do,” Cameron said, not even looking up from the meat he was searing in a skillet.

Lev looked expectantly at Ash, who just gave a shrug. “Might as well get him out of that foul mood of his.”

“He’s no reason to be happy about what’s going on,” Lev replied reasonably. When Ash narrowed his eyes at Lev, the lack of a glow to his green gaze letting Lev know he wasn’t actually able to see him right now, Lev was quick to add, “So I want to... give him some happier memories about this pregnancy. He’s so miserable right now and all he’s gotten is bad news. A party will cheer him up and maybe give him something to look forward to.”

“Are you suggesting he isn’t looking forward to the several horrendous hours of labor to push that fetus out?” Cameron asked, flicking a look Lev’s way.

Lev blinked. “Well. No, I doubt that. But. The after? Holding the baby? I don’t think he’s thought that far. He’s just stressed and worried.”

“That was sarcasm, Levant,” Ash pointed out.

“Oh.” Lev rubbed his nose. “Um. Well. I do think it’s a good idea.”

“Alright. Fine. I’m sure we can have something set up this weekend.”

“Thank you,” Lev said to Cameron, looking pleased. Up until he realized... “Who can we invite”?”

“Well, that is indeed the question, isn’t it?” Ash mused.

“Can Nate be invited?”

“I sure hope so, Nate practically raised him,” Ash said dryly.

Lev grimaced at him, knowing very well he couldn’t see it. “Yes, but- am I allowed to be there if he is?”

“I think it’ll be fine, especially if Bay is with him.”

After considering that, Lev gave a small nod. “Okay. Can I help plan for it, Cameron?”

“I suppose,” Cameron said.

Lev gave a small hum. “Ocean themed? To match the nursery?”

“Sure,” Cameron said, with the same amount of indifference as before.

This time Lev huffed at Cameron. “I’m going to go see if Mami wants to help,” he said, knowing it was a little petty.

“You do that,” Cameron said.

As Lev... well, even he could admit he was flouncing off a bit, Ash followed. Lev took that as a silent agreement to actually participate in the planning.

---

Darius found himself in Cyrus’ office with a mug of tea in front of him and Cyrus across from him with his own coffee. Even if Darius couldn’t drink the tea, he did appreciate the gesture. It would be nice to be able to drink tea once more.

“Why Cameron?” Cyrus asked, not in an accusatory way, but genuine curiosity.

“Why not Cameron?” Darius asked, splaying his brown fingers along the desk.

Cyrus gave a shrug as he continued to flip through his notes, coffee seemingly forgotten. “He’s not exactly the sort most people seem to be attached to. Outside yourself, Nikolas, and Levant, of course. Most others seem frightened more than anything.”

“I don’t see why,” Darius said. “Cameron’s never been frightening to me.”

“Perhaps it's the amount of people he’s tortured and killed,” Cyrus pointed out mildly. He looked up briefly. “I mean no offense, I simply want to understand.”

Darius thought on that, and he thought on the boy he had known when he was alive. And he thought on the hell that was unleashed upon Cameron once it was found that Darius had died at Cameron’s own hand. And then he said, “Perhaps. Though, I do not judge a person by their occupation. One could say Sorin has killed his own fair share of people, no?”

Cyrus looked over at Sorin, who was curled up as a cat on a pile of papers, orange tail twitching against his white flank as he dozed. “He did,” Cyrus agreed. “And he retired. But you made your point. I see where you’re coming from.” He looked back to Darius. “The war made a monster out of many people. But something tells me the war is not what happened to Cameron.”

“Just a different kind of war,” Darius sighed. He traced along one of his rings. “Have you come up with a solution that would not let Cameron die in the process?” Even if Darius was quite sure Cameron wouldn’t blink at the idea of giving his own life to right this particular wrong- even when the last five hundred years had Cameron’s story of survival written in betrayal and blood.

“I considered just... any life. But- that doesn’t seem a fair trade,” Cyrus sighed, running his own ringed fingers over his face. “I’m not willing to attempt the spell without certainty. The cost of failure is too high, and it’s your only chance.”

“Of course,” Darius said. “I do not take any of this lightly. I am very grateful to you, Cyrus.”

Cyrus gave a small smile, though his face was tired. “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Not until after I guarantee this will work.” He propped his chin in his hand. “It’s starting to look like there’s no way for me to be sure what is an acceptable trade, unless I speak with Nature themself.” Cyrus paused. “Which would be difficult, because I’ve never tried to form any sort of connection with Nature before. I didn’t get the education most witches do from their covens, and I was learning so much about the practical side that it slipped my mind.”

“Well,” Darius said, “I am sure there is no time like the present to get acquainted with your god.” Something Cameron, too, was unable to do. “Asmi seems… sturdy.”

Cyrus hummed. “Sturdy. Concrete. Something like that. I think.” He tapped his cheek. “I have no idea how to go about it, though.”

“I could reach out,” Darius offered. “Seeing as how I’m in the same realm as they are. And there’s less risk to you if I were to approach them first.”

Cyrus considered that. “That would... be very helpful, actually,” he mused. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Though perhaps after I take a nap.”

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