#who had given up her life as a siren and became a witch

[kawaiichibiart]

If I had a nickel for everytime I made Minoharu suffer through a tragedy in one of my PRSK AUs, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's funny it happened twice.

Sci-fi/Fantasy Minoharu 🤝 Burning Hearth Minoharu

Tragedy? Tragedy.

[6lytherinn]

Every Night I Dream of You

Dramione Drabble

Draco didn't sleep for weeks after he'd witnessed Hermione Granger being tortured in his own home. Each time he closed his eyes he could see her laying on the floor, and he could hear her screams lingering in the back of his mind like a distant ringing that refused to stop. He blamed it on the stress and the fact that he'd never witnessed something so horrible in his seventeen years of life.

He didn't talk about it to anyone. Not his mum who had tried to discuss the events minutes after they'd escaped, not to Pansy who had been wide eyed in curiosity when she heard the news, and definitely not to Blaise who had given him that bloody look that made Draco feel powerless.

Draco tried to forget but it was impossible.

And here they were now, months later after the war had ended and life was slowly getting back to normal. The events of that night still haunted Draco and each time he caught sight of the curly haired witch his breath caught in his throat, and his blood went cold. Anytime he heard her voice his chest tightened, and the only thing he would hear was the sound of his heart beating too fast and the echoes of her painful screams.

Blaise had noticed this reaction once during Potions class and informed his friend that this was called a panic attack.

They still didn't talk about it.

It wasn't long after being back at Hogwarts that the nightmares began. Each different but all ending the same way; Hermione Granger dying while he watched helplessly.

Some nights she died fast and silent. One minute she was her normal, sassy self and the next she was lying in a pool of blood. Draco would watch as she took her last breath, her eyes fixated on him as if to taunt him for simply watching. Calling him a coward because that's exactly what he was.

Other nights it was slow, and her screams would pierce the air like a siren. They would go on for hours, pained screams and cries as Draco stood glued to the floor - unable to do anything but witness the tragic events that always led to her lifeless body staring up at him.

He woke up every night in tears, his body trembling as he gasped for air. He would feel around in the dark room for any sign that it wasn't real.

Some nights he was met by Pansy as she slipped into his bed, holding his hand securely as he grounded himself back to reality.

She could hear him all the way from the girls dormitories.

Other nights he'd be jerked awake by Blaise as he pulled him into a tight yet awkward hug. He'd stay with him until he was calm, and sometimes that meant the entire night.

Draco wasn't sure when they'd began what Pansy called, “Granger Watch”. It became a silent agreement that one of the three would check in on the girl throughout the day and report it back to Draco.

This helped his nightmares for a while but it wasn't long before she took notice.

“Why are you and your bloody friends following me around?” Was the first thing she said to him in almost a year. Draco froze as he stared in front of him. His eyes flicked from the pink tint that had settled onto her cheeks, a sign that she was flustered and a little angry, to the wild look in her hazel eyes. He could feel his heart racing as he took in her appearance. She looked so alive; the complete opposite of how she looked every night in his dreams.

“Hello? Earth to Malfoy.”

He blinked as she crossed her arms cautiously.

“We're not.” His mouth was so dry.

“That's funny considering I see Zabini and Parkinson almost as much as I see Harry and Ron, and we barely have classes together. I also see you a lot more than before which is also quite odd. No one ever says anything though, just watching me for a bit and then leaving.”

He could practically feel the warmth coming from her body and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her. To make sure she was really there: alive and breathing.

So he did just that.

She jumped back as soon as his hand touched her cheek, and he felt himself snap back to reality. The warmth that spread from his fingers to his entire body made him relax for the first time in a while, and he finally felt he could breathe again.

“What the hell?” Her nostrils flared in the way it always did when she was upset. Her eyes were soft with confusion and it made Draco weak.

“I'm sorry-” he found himself stumbling over his words as he searched for an explanation. He really didn't have any that made sense.

“You're alive.” He whispered.

“Of course I'm alive, what's wrong with you?”

He glanced around the empty hallway they were standing in. He suddenly felt very nervous.

“I keep having these dreams about you dying. I've had them for months, ever since…” he trailed off but knew she understood by the look in her eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued.

“I had to make sure you were alive. I needed to know you were really okay.”

She was even more confused now and Draco wanted to bolt.

“So you decided to spy on me? And your friends agreed?”

He nodded.

She gave him a short nod and cleared her throat, backing away unsure. “Well, as you can tell I'm very much alive. Please tell your friends to stop following me.”

Draco slept peacefully that night, and the nightmares slowly faded into an unwanted memory.

Draco no longer had to go out of his way to catch sight of Hermione Granger because she always seemed to find him; and the little smile she'd throw his way was enough to ease his mind and remind him that none of the dreams were real

[crimsonfacets]

"Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me and mine. Brick and mortar between my bones, build a kingdom fierce and fortified."

Lilith headcanons, history, and bits of combined mythology & Hazbin's currently lore (1/30/2024);

Warning: Briefest mention of sexual assault below the read more.

"Who is Lilith?"

Fiercely Independent and a Visionary, Lilith is the First Woman to exist and walk the Earth, and the first female Demon. The Queen of Hell. She is known as a Night Goddess, a Vampire, a Siren, a Witch, the first Succubus, and the Mother of all Demons. She is the fallen angel Lucifer's beloved, and the mother of the Hazbin Hotel's owner, Charlie.

Created from the same dust as Adam, Lilith stood as his equal as the intended progenitor of humanity. However, Adam saw it differently; Adam saw himself as her owner and her superior, and time and time again he tried to assert this belief just to be met with Lilith's defiant but calm will that tirelessly insisted they were equals. Adam would try to force himself upon her whilst claiming the male belonged on top of woman, and fail with her rage overpowering him. Lilith sprouted the wings of an owl and took flight from Eden, leaving Adam confounded, rejected, and alone.

Fleeing to the Red Sea for solitude and self-solace, Lilith was surprised to find company from the angel Lucifer, who, like her, was an outcast amongst his kind. He praised her independence, and she found great surprise and comfort in it. Time would roll on outside of the Garden, and the two rebellious souls fell deeply in love.

Eventually, Adam would be given a new bride in Lilith's absence - Eve. Having experienced Adam before, Lilith was of one mind with Lucifer when they decided to gift the fruit of knowledge unto Eve to allow her the same taste of free will that they were both enjoying. This proved to be a chaotic choice however, as it birthed sin in the Garden of Eden with the couple that would populate the Earth, infesting the many, many lineages that would spawn from their union.

Lilith and Lucifer were punished by Heaven for their transgressions, and were cast together into the created Pit of Hell as punishment.

Lucifer languished in banishment, forbidden from seeing the wonders that would be done with the free will that he and his beloved had helped introduce to humanity, and forced to only see the evil. Lilith, on the other hand, thrived.

Awakened as the first female demon, Lilith, with Lucifer's aid, turned the Pit that was meant to be their realm of punishment into a realm of demonic Elysium -- Hell. In a way that could be seen as mirroring (or mocking) God, Lilith rose varieties of hellspawn from the crimson soil and empowered them with the life of song, and in doing so, she became known as the Mother of Demons -- an ironic twist of fate, instead of becoming the intended Mother of Humanity.

The new civilization flourished, especially as the rejects of humanity came tumbling down into the dark rather than rising to the light of Heaven. It was no longer only Lilith and Lucifer's home, but many others as well. Communities grew, and powerful beings that came to be known as the 'Deadly Sins' allied with the lovers and helped to rule the different sects of the domain called 'Rings'. Human souls, 'Sinners', would stay within the Ring of 'Pride' where the Queen & King made their home, naturally belonging within the proximity of the once human Lilith.

The times were pleasant, the population grew and filled out the infinite reaches of the Pride Ring. Demonkind relished in the comforting, empowering strength that would fuel them stemmed from the Mother of Hell's voice and song. The power of Hell itself grew! And Heaven noticed, and Heaven felt threatened. Hell was never meant to be the Utopia that Lilith and the rest of the Damned were raising it to be - it was meant to stay a place of shadow and shame, and they defied Heaven's silent intent. Their power could grow to rise against their own. So, Heaven made the decision as it watched the numbers grow higher and higher; It would unleash a culling of the Pride Ring once a year to bring the numbers of its accepted human souls down, an Extermination led by Lilith's spurned lover, Adam, and remind Hell and all of its people that it is the below.

It both broke and enraged Lilith's heart.

But Hell is Lilith's Pride and Joy, it is both her and Lucifer's home - it is their people's home. It is more than worth saving. Tirelessly, Lilith would meet with representatives of Heaven at the erected Holy Embassy and attempt negotiations of peace to bring a halt to the Exterminations once and for all. Time after time, her attempts would end in failure, yet she would never give up.

Even under the light of adversity however, dark blessings bloom. A daughter would be born with Lilith's dreams at her core; Charlotte Morningstar. The Princess of Hell, and the apple of Lilith and Lucifer's eye.

They were happy. Lilith had her responsibilities as the Queen of Hell and the more social spirit of the royal marriage, but now as a mother to a child, she would make time for Charlotte. She was attentive, and she was nurturing. She was intellectual, and gladly tutored Charlotte in the ways of her own favored hobbies such as music, art, magic, and gardening. Charlotte always knew music and creative outlets with Lilith (as well as her father Lucifer), she knew them by heart - they were such an enormous part of the household. Lilith the painter and sculptor, and Lucifer the toy inventor. There was no room for the Princess to lack sources for self-expression - it was the culture of Morningstar Palace.

So..

"What is going on? Where is she?"

Many years after Charlotte, now preferring her name shortened to 'Charlie', was grown, Lilith felt more comfortable to depart on diplomatic missions. They were long and arduous, but she would always come back home. There is one, however, that she has not returned from.

Seven years ago, Lilith would depart from the Palace with her selected guard and a selection of human souls that were indebted to her; the most powerful, or promising, ones at the given time who were different in their own right. This mission was of grave importance, as Lilith had finally managed to gain an audience with the closest ties to the Speaker of God, Sera. The most promising and enticing meeting yet, one that Lilith felt would finally turn the tides of the Extermination. Given this is such an important figure visiting straight from Heaven though, there were conditions to keep her arrival a secret. Lilith was not about to put this meeting in jeopardy, so she would agree.. and only tell Lucifer where it was that she was departing to.

There was a disagreement risen from concern. Sera was not the sort of angel who had duties to Hell, and in Lucifer's expert opinion, had zero interest in visiting at all. Lilith would speak with Lucifer and explain this was as close as she could possibly get to achieving the goal of peace, and that she understood the situation - the proposal - was suspicious. She was not naive, something underhanded was no doubt going to take place, but with tensions as high as they are, the risk of diving straight into war is too sensitive. She would be taking her most trusted guard and contracts to stay by her side and keep her safe. Lucifer insisted he would come as well, but she rejected the offer and told him their domain needed at least one of them home.

Gathering her chosen entourage, the Queen prepared herself and set out to the Holy Embassy. There, Sera was indeed waiting -- along with Adam and his General.

Lilith and Lucifer were right. This arrangement was a sabotage. Lilith and her Guard disappeared from Hell as quiet as a sigh. The only one aware of it taking place at all was Lucifer, and he was quick to connect to Heaven after his wife failed to return home after a given amount of time.

Heaven had taken Hell's inspirational songbird of a mother captive, and she, both enraged but determined that this circumstance will eventually be turned into her favor now that she had Sera's ear, was a begrudgingly willing captive. It was only natural that there was very little Lilith could do to soothe her husband, but she could in the least convince him to wait. She would find a way to call for him if she needed to be free, but for now, she was in Heaven's grasp.

To this day, this served to be a very miserable circumstance. It is only as of recent days that Lilith was able to make enough headway to convince her captors to release some of her Guard and return them home, they had no business being here - they had families of their own to return to. Was she, despite all of her power and ability to shake Heaven, not the ideal prisoner?

That thin threat combined with the facts was more than enough to finally win in her favor. Chosen Guard were sent back to Hell, and amongst them was the Radio Demon, who has constant spiritual two-way communication to the Dark Queen.

I enjoy the theory that involves Alastor being indebted to Lilith and have built upon that a little bit, following her request to act as something of a guardian over her daughter in her absence. However, I will not apply this to Alastors that may wish to write with me unless explicitly told they are interested in toying with it!

Now, about Lilith.

Independent and astoundingly composed, Lilith is a sensual and regal matriarch personality with melody at her core, much like her spirited daughter Charlie. She is an abundantly creative soul who suffers when cut off from self-expression to the point of deep melancholy. She is a singer with grand performances that travel across the Rings of Hell whilst on her diplomatic missions, and you best believe there is never an empty seat in her concert hall. These performances paired perfectly with the dramatic flair of her husband, the Ringmaster, and they never fail to put on a grand show when combined together.

Born in Eden, it is only natural that Lilith is a notorious green thumb and animal whisperer. This was her bread and butter to begin with and it only continued into darker palettes after her banishment. Two of the most notable agricultural wonders of Hell are the Morningstar Apple Orchard and Palace Garden.

Creation has always been a core characteristic, as well. Sometimes considered the dark reflection of God for her creation of demons, Lilith has her own workshop within the Palace District that is dedicated to both the creation of art -- and demons. She has not stopped spinning the unholy to life just because Hell is plentiful and thriving.

Lilith adores her people faithfully, making the greatest sacrifice of her precious and treasured freedom to end the yearly genocide once and for all. However, there are always children who misbehave and treat their fellow sinner in a way less than agreeable, and they know to walk lightly with a straightened spine when the Queen is around. It is not wise to disrespect and abuse one another in her presence - the punishment can be quite severe.

tidbits;

Unless canon provides a voice I approve of, her voice claim for the time being is the lovely & sultry Mary Elizabeth McGlynn.

Lilith is associated with snakes, spiders, owls, nightjars, and even cats ( cats are somewhat headcanon ). These sorts of creatures are regular inhabitants of the Palace and the Garden.

Odd as it may be to watch, Lilith is fully able to change her horns to fit her desired look - as well as making them vanish entirely!

Her favored drink is blood - particularly her husband's.

KeeKee was originally hers, but she gifted her to Charlie once she decided to strike out on her own.

While Lilith is able to sprout the wings of an owl to take flight, she does, in fact, have her own broomstick she enjoys flying about the place with.

In concern for elements, Lilith's element is water. She is deeply associated with the Red Sea and considers it to be her own. There are large bodies of water found throughout Hell as a result, and she had an enormous hand in the creation of the aquatic Envy Ring.

Despite her provocative nature, Lilith is monogamous and faithful.

Lilith is bisexual.

Despite Charlie preferring her shortened name, Lilith habitually calls her 'Charlotte'.

The woman's hair is animated and in constant motion. She is able to control it!

Due to Lilith not being in canon at this point and time ( 1/30/2024 ), I am taking enormous liberties with her character. As / If canon ever divulges into her, these things listed here are liable to change!

[kavehinpink]

hungry girls

originally posted to my twitter

Nancy Wheeler has been hungry her entire life. In this way, being a vampire doesn’t feel so different than being a human. At least now she can place her hunger, knows how to satisfy it, at least for a little while.

Not that her other hungers were laid to rest with her mortality, not at all. If anything they feel sharper, more tangible. Her monster wants blood but the girl inside of her wants more.

It had felt natural to go to Robin first, her body taking her to the other girl of its own volition. In her post-bunny eating panic, there was no one else that she wanted to see. Robin had a way of soothing her, her brain finding calm in her incessant chatter. It didn’t make any sense but nothing in their world made sense anymore so she let herself lean into it.

Robin had freaked out, understandably. She’d gone on a high pitched rant about how it was just their luck vampires were also real and how they couldn’t seem to catch a break and oh god, are werewolves real too? Witches? Mothman? But she hadn’t been afraid of Nancy. She’d just helped her wash the blood away and given her clean clothes and tucked her into the bed. She’d covered all the windows with blankets and towels until they were sure no light could get through. And then she’d curled up next to her and wrapped Nancy in her arms, whispering reassurances and petting her hair until Nancy had calmed down.

The feeding had come later. At first Nancy hunted in the woods but she hated killing rabbits and deer. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t satisfy the hunger that clawed through her veins. The people around her became more and more enticing, the blood pulsing through her friends' veins sounding increasingly like a siren song.

It was Robin who noticed first and Robin who swept the hair from her neck and tilted her head to the side. An offering, one that Nancy felt she didn’t deserve but couldn’t stop herself from taking.

[read the rest on ao3 so tumblr doesn’t get mad at me]

[lemonjawbreakers]

An, Ann, N Anny Monster AU

So I was watching mad monster party (a classic) and it made me think of an AU with the girls. Here all the Cul-de-sac kids would be adults and reuniting on Evil Island, after being summoned by the infamous Dr. Jekyll and the council of monster’s. 

The An’s currently live together in a small village, making money scaring the locals and just enjoying life until there summoned and are suddenly re-united with their old pal’s. Including the now older Kanker brothers.

An Creature - Creature from the black Lagoon (was going to do werewolf but I can see An living in the swamp). Her pod (family) was very strict, and territorial, trying there best to keep An in line. Yet her love for human junk out weighed her fear of them and it cost a lot of issue’s. So after they couldn’t send her to boarding school, they sent her away for safety of the pod. An is much happier as a result, freedom, a whole basement to herself and can make a mess. She is sad about the locals running away from her though.

Was terrorized by Jay (a Frankenstein with Siren parts) who loved her voice and just how strong she was when they were little as An was told to stay away from boys and sirens so he caused her a bit of panic. When they got older hey bonded on human video games and the two developed a small friendship but lost contact after graduation. Re-connecting however has bubbled up a few unwanted feelings.

Ann Hilda Jekyll- Daughter of Dr Jekyll and a witch, Double-N now lives with her friends in the an old castle conducting experiments and creating potions. Even trading/selling her potions for some small change. Uses potions to hide her witch side (in this AU she’d have green skin and other ‘witchy features) just don’t let her use her dads concoction. She becomes a real witch lol

Which is ironically how Larie became attracted to her. Larie a science experiment himself (with extra parts from a gargoyle to fly with and horns) began to bug her. Mostly because he was bored an she was easy prey, until she takes her ‘medicine’. Then her other side knocked him threw a window, fixed up his wounds an apologized to him. He was just so taken back that he fell in love.         So he began to pursue her and then lost touch at graduation (Double-N bolted out the door). Meeting again has caused a lot confusing feeling because he hasn’t given up but has grown a lot.

Anny Nosferatu- Obviously a vampire but unfortunately for Anny she’s a direct descendent of Nosferatu, which hasn’t helped her image. Being stuck between her families high expectations, comparisons to her much crueler older sister, and Karen mocking her as being the lesser Vampire, it’s not hard to see why she jumped at the chance to leave. Anny also say this as a way to prove herself that she’s just as good so she enjoys terrorizing the locals.

Met Tee when they were really little and he had gotten lost. Being the first experiment out of his brothers and having gorgon parts caused people to freak out at his eyes that hypnotize people instead of turn them to stone. Anny being the outcast herself stood up for him and they became friends until she’s forced to leave. A few years later they met again, but she forgot him and he hadn’t given up. Like the other’s they lost contact after graduation (Anny clung to Double-N’s broom as the bolted out the door). But now she’s back and he’s hot, help.

--

Will do the Kanker brothers and the rest of the Cul-de-sac (maybe some oc’s) on other post’s. This is it for now, tell me what monsters you’d think the girls or the other kids would be.

[watermeat]

I’m pretty sure I’ve already made a post about Doug before but in case I haven’t: Doug is a stupid OC that me and my friends have put WAY too much world building into. Essentially he was the son of a couple who made a deal with a witch that she would have their first born, which was actually really painful and difficult for them at the time.

But then when ANOTHER witch exchanged gifts for the firstborn then well... you’ve aleady promised your firstborn to someone else, so of COURSE you’re gonna agree that and try to rip the other witch off... and the contract works?

And then if a THIRD witch CURSES your first born son then like... oh, no big deal, he’s going to some witch once he’s born anyway who gives a damn if he'll start spawning lava when he cries.

So his parents just became con artists who exchange curses on their firstborn to magical creatures, so when he was EVENTUALLY born, they went to the first witch who was basically given a bundle of 300 curses in a baby’s body and she was like “...I’m not gonna eat that”, but legally the baby was hers now.

So Doug’s mum did what any self respecting Bog Witch does and started to bathe him in anti curse lotion daily, and sew anti-magic runes in his clothes and was like “well I guess this is just my son now”. But she was SO ADEPT at covering for his curses, and because they lived in the middle of the bog where noone fear tread, Doug is completely oblivious to how cursed he is and grew up thinking that all humans were Just Like That.

He doesn’t know that milk curdles in his prescence, he just knows that milk is Like That and is yucky. He doesn’t know that the locust infestation in his current household is because of him. He doesn’t know that spinning wheels don’t usually just appear in the attic of your house and lure you like a siren’s song to prick your finger and die. They’re pests that EVERYONE has that you just have to deal with.

Full moons are an event because so many curses relate to the moon that he just kind of goes into a coma and is legally dead for 24 hours whilst constantly transforming into various beasts, but his mum one time complained about having to deal with periods once a month so to him he assumes this is just what a period is.

He moved out and his mum was terrified that he was going to learn that humans aren’t Like That but luckily he lives with a bunch of non-humans who also don’t know what humans are like and they’re all like “damn, humans are WEIRD”. He has literally thousands of curses on him and he goes through life with the optimism of a toddler.

Meanwhile his mother is dealing with other witches and fae that have been promised his biological parents’ first born on a weekly basis, and every time he comes home she notices that he has another 9 hexes since he’s been gone, and she is tired and haggard but she loves him dearly and she’ll be damned before she makes him think that he’s a burden.

She’s started a law firm for magical contracts, and specialises in parental rights for magical beings. She is extremely respected in her field because nobody else is so PERSONALLY INVESTED in this. Like other witches might have a situation or 2 but this poor woman is dealing with it multiple times a week.

She has a permanent low level counterspell on Doug so that every time someone hexes him, it automatically sends a letter to the last known address of the being that cursed him essentially saying “Have you been ripped off in a magical contract?” like some goddamned targeted spam mail.

She has a bounty on Doug’s biologic parents but they’ve got so many magical artifacts and weapons that they’re masters of disguise and deception, and the few times they’ve been caught they’re unbeaten in combat. It’s almost a fact that she would obliterate them out of pure spite if she had the time to search for them but she has a full time job now.

[getlostsquidward]

Sink in the Blues of Your Eyes

Pirate!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

A/N: I BLAME (OR DO I?) HUBSPOT PIRATE KATHRYN AD FOR THIS. I.AM.OBSESSED. GOOD LORD.

Agatha Harkness – also known as the infamous Sea Witch, was the only female pirate ship captain on Salem. Rumor has it that she could command the sea monsters lurking in the middle of the sea; some say that she is a siren and that the disappearances of male crews of other ships were her doing. None of them could prove it, though, so the rumors became myths, the villagers steering clear of her path when they dock for supplies. Even the authorities have given her special treatment, letting their ship dock anytime she wants in exchange for their safety.

Despite all of the negative words on the street, you have always been interested in the woman. First of all, she can make anyone that stands on her way on their knees without so much uttering a word. But the one thing that fascinates you the most about Agatha is how she stands tall in the male-dominated world.

Enigmatic and bewitching. That is how you would describe her even though you haven’t seen her in the flesh. Her Quartermasters, on the other hand, Wanda Maximoff and The Vision, were the ones who you had a privilege of meeting as you had passed by them multiple times on the market.

Needless to say, you have always been dreaming of meeting her, even just a glimpse of the mysterious woman who had been occupying your mind.

You didn’t know what you had done in your past life as the stars made your dream come true.

Though you would have preferred a less awful way of doing so.

A splitting headache welcomed you as you reverted back to consciousness, but you hadn’t opened your eyes yet. You would have cradled your head in your hands if they weren’t bound behind you on a thick wooden post. The churning waves beneath you add to the pain you’re feeling, the unsteady position making you dizzy. Above all, you were parched and hungry. How did you even get here–

“We found her below deck. It seems she has been here for a while.”

“A spy, perhaps?”

“I wouldn’t think so. Look at her.”

Right.

You didn’t know how long since it happened but you remember bits of your memory – you were forced to flee the only place that keeps you shelter as your employer had accused you of stealing money from him.

Defending yourself was useless since no one would really believe a peasant girl, so you did the only things that you need to survive: run and hide.

Slowly regaining your sensibility, you could make out two familiar voices – Wanda and The Vision, figuring out how you got here and what to do with you. You had managed to open your eyes, your sight blurry on the sides and head still hanging low.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” a woman’s voice had joined, you weren’t sure who. Probably just another crew–

“Captain Harkness.”

Maybe you were still asleep and just dreaming. Maybe it was either your spinning head or your hunger making you delirious that now you are hearing things and tricking you.

But it wasn’t a figment of your imagination as you feel soft feminine hands cupping your jaw tenderly tipping your head up.

Enigmatic. Bewitching.

Her piercing gaze burns you from the inside, her touch feeling like molten lava against your pale and cold skin.

She tilts her head, her eyes surveying your face. “What’s a frail young lady like you doing here in in the sea witch’s ship?”

You can only croak in response, not able to form a coherent sentence. “E-escape- hide-“

Agatha shushed you with her thumb on your lips. “It’s okay. No one will be able to find you here. You are safe here. With me.”

Barely able to move, you had managed to give the woman a small smile in return before you felt very drowsy. The last thing you had focused on before you succumbed to sleep was Agatha’s blue eyes, reminding you of the ocean beneath.

Captain Harkness grinned, purple wisps of magic emerging from her blackened fingers.

--

next chapter

[moonlights-inkwell]

I Love You, Don’t Say Anything

Jaskier x Reader  

Word Count: 6,047

Summary: Healing from your wounds is a trying experience. Even if it comes with new friends.  

A/N: Ha. Remember me? Yeah, me neither. Mental Health is... a bitch.  

Here’s part three tho!

Part One  Part Two

You’re dead. At least, you think you are. The dull, throbbing pain in your neck means you must be, surely. If this is death, though, you expected worse. Hellfire and sulphur, or angelic chorus and white clouds, or the white void of purgatory, but no. There’s none of that at all. Nothing but the pain in your neck, nowhere near as painful as it had been earlier but its still there, aching and sending occasional rushes of pain down your arm.  

It’s dark. Pitch black, permeating and seeping into anything and everything, with nothing at all to break the darkness. No moon, no stars, no flickering candlelight; nothing at all. It ought to be frightening, but really it isn’t- it’s familiar. You feel like you know it, know it well at that, but you don’t really know how you do. 

You have your eyes closed. That’s what it is. It’s not dark like night, no it’s dark like when you've woken from a sleep that is so overwhelming that you cannot bring yourself to open your eyes. Sleep, oh heavenly beautiful sleep, you long for it but that pain in your neck will not allow for anything like that, so instead you just lay there, eyes closed and just living in this moment. It's nice. Warm even. Like being held.  

There’s a warmth across your waist that only gets warmer on your stomach, your back feels like it’s facing a fire, but there’s none of that residual pain. It’s like being held; reminds you of your childhood. When your father passed, you had been no older than six, and spent every night for a year sleeping in your mother's bed, her vice-like grip keeping you in place, held to her bosom the way a new mother would her babe to their breast. It was a hard year. Your mother had become so engulfed by her sadness that she had become almost a stranger, never smiling or laughing, not able to cook or clean or even collect fire wood; you had grown up too quickly then, having to take care of yourself and your mother until she finally found herself once more. She was so wrapped in her grief that you had spent every moment by her side- to assure her she was not alone- but it had grown into something else entirely. The house you had known as warm and sweet smelling became cold and foreign to you, and it never quite recovered even after she had. The songs came back, but sadder, the bread never as good, the honey never as sweet. Innocence lost; you suppose the childish wonderment buried in a fisherman’s watery grave along with your father. The memory makes you stiffen a little, but it’s what it reminds you of that really makes your breath catch in your throat. Your father. You haven’t given him a thought since you were eleven, and now you can’t even remember his face, it’s little more than a hazy blur in your mind. His voice, a gruff but cheerful thing, only exists in shallow memories of him singing along with your mother, whispering bedtime tales of princesses and knights. Pain pricks behind your eyes, and so you try desperately to distract yourself, focusing on the heat behind you. Familiar warmth.

It reminds you of the autumn too, when the days grow shorter and the nights colder and more likely to be filled with rain. On those colder, wetter nights something changes; boundaries disappear and you can indulge in the sweetness of not sleeping alone as you normally do. Those special, sacred nights when Jaskier, Geralt and yourself have to squish close together in a cave for warmth, pressed between the bard and Witcher so you can stay warm and protected. Geralt is always somewhat cold like a corpse, silent as the dead, but Jaskier is a different story entirely. Even when you fall into sleep on your back, you wake with him pressed into your back, face in the tangles of your hair and murmuring nonsense that must mean something in his dreams. He’s warm, like a bed warmer that can cling to you and occasionally hums lullabies when you startle awake in the night.  

The flat of your hand pushes down in front of you but sinks down into comfortable fabric. Not the ground. Not the ground at all. You swear you were on the ground when you fell onto Jaskier's lap, right in front of the fire but this isn’t where you fell asleep.  

You wonder, still half asleep if Geralt had managed to talk some poor inn-keep into letting you rest in their home while you heal. Unlikely. But this definitely is not camp. No, this is somewhere else entirely, somewhere with a bed- somewhere blissfully warm.  

Just blissful heat. After a second or two, you realise you are being held, but only when the hot burst of breath spreads across the back of your neck and though it takes more effort than it should, your eyes creak open. You’re in a room, dark save for the glowing of a fire in a small archway across from you, with dark velvet curtains covering the windows. It’s comfortable, far more expensive than any inn you could ever afford, and in your tired daze you can’t string together anything more coherent than that. It’s comfortable.  

“You’re awake. That’s good.” A voice says from by the fireplace, smooth and feminine, and your blurry eyes catch sight of a woman who you're sure wasn’t there a second before. She’s gorgeous. Intimidatingly so: tall, with black curls that frame a flawless beautiful face, corners of deep pink lips turned up into a smile. Never, in your entire life, have you seen a woman so beautiful: and you recall a story from your mother about a woman with hair like coal and skin as white as fresh fallen snow and eyes the colour of honey, but hers are not. No, they’re purple. Like amethyst, amethyst that is watching you intently.  

“Am I dead?” The question escapes you before you can realise how silly it is. The voice that comes out of you is almost unrecognizable as your own. It sounds like you’ve been gargling shattered glass and assorted rocks since birth, and this woman chuckles slightly at your words. For some strange reason, the sound puts you at ease; even though you don’t know this woman, she makes you feel safe enough to not want to deal out your sword and ask how you got here.  

“Dead to the world for a few days, but no. You’re still alive. Lucky to be so, too. Especially with the wound you had. Nasty thing, it was.” She steps towards you, head tilting to the left as you try and push yourself onto your elbow only to fumble. “Oh, don’t. You'll hurt yourself. It doesn’t hurt any more does it?” qqq

It doesn’t. Well, not as badly as it did before, just a dull ache rather than excruciating pain, and you allow yourself a deep inhale. Bearable, and the smile that overtakes your face is undeniable.  

“...Thank you, miss...”  

“No miss. Just Yennefer.” She says as she moves towards you, pushing a flute of something red into your hands. “Drink. You'll feel better.” You eye it suspiciously, holding it in both trembling hands.  

“What is it?”  

“It'll make you feel better.” It isn’t much by means of explanation, but it’s enough, so you tip the glass back and gulp down the fed liquid within. It tastes like liquorice and vinegar, bitter and tangy in such a way that your nose crinkles in disgust and Yennefer laughs once more. A pretty sound from a pretty woman, like tinkling bells. You wonder if she’s some sort of siren, but sirens are hardly known for their willingness to heal people. You feel drunk but the pain is lessened even still, drawing a little sigh from you, and she takes the glass. “It tastes horrible, but you feel better, right?”

You do feel better, so you let her take the glass from you when you catch sight of your arm. It’s covered, but by blue velvet, not the blouse you were wearing earlier. It’s a familiar blue velvet at that, the colour of a stream and embroidered in gold. Jaskier. It’s one of his doublets, your favourite of his doublets at that, but you have no clue how you’ve found yourself wearing it, you've never worn any article of his clothing before-  

“He put it on you.” She says airily, gesturing behind you with a vague wave, which has you assuming that the confusion must be written across your face. “You gave the poor idiot a real fright, Little Miss.” The pet name comes playfully from her, but you stiffen at it until a quiet groan comes from behind you and that warmth on your stomach turns into a fist that you realise is on exposed flesh. “Geralt too, I cannot remember a time he looked so worried. The Bard hasn’t left your side though. I think he may have been worried you...”  

Would die. She doesn’t need to finish the sentence for you to know what she means. You don’t want to think about that, want to focus on something- anything- else.  

“You know Geralt?”  

“That... is one way of putting it, yes.”  

“You could say she's a heartless witch who insists on toying with Geralt.” Jaskier grumbles tiredly behind you and Yennefer rolls her eyes. For the first time since opening your eyes a coldness settles over her features, no less pretty but harder. Firmer. Women don’t normally turn cold at Jaskier, but Jaskier doesn’t normally insult women either. This dynamic is new, uncomfortable to be between, and you can see her trying to bite back words, presumably for the sake of your weak self.

“I'll take my leave, then. Try to rest, Little Miss.” Yennefer says simply, brushing the back of her knuckles across the underside of your jaw as she heads towards the door, sauntering out and closing the door behind her.  

“Cow.” Jaskier huffs against your neck, tickling the skin as he lets his hand relax and flatten against your stomach once more. Unclothed stomach. You realise, a little belatedly, that you don’t have your corset on; someone has removed your corset, and you’ve been laid here, chest exposed with Jaskier around you for days. You could have died, bled to death in a wood far from home with no one to mourn you but a Witcher and his Bard, but all you can understand is that Jaskier has been lying beside you in this state of undress, and that you feel... ashamed, somehow. There's not even a reason why, but almost bare, save for his jacket you feel shame gather in your throat like vomit. You almost died. You worried him so much he hasn’t left your side, cleaned you up and put you in his clothing, but all your mind can focus on is that he must have seen you bare and you didn’t even know, couldn’t even see how he had reacted.  

Your body is a body to you. It’s not something you attribute any great importance to; you've never considered yourself some buxom beauty, some sultry siren or dainty darling. Your body is just that, or was before you started your travels. Now it's a weapon, of sorts, marred by swords and scratches and bites, thighs thickened by travel, fists scarred and bruised. Insecurity is not a concept you think of in conjunction to yourself but you think of yourself and your body as different beings entirely- it’s nigh on impossible to not be insecure about the criss-cross of scars that span the plains of your belly, the raised skin below the hollow of your throat, healed over incision just to the side of your breast beneath the collar bone. He’s seen it all now, and without you seeing his response. It should be enlightening that after seeing these marks he remains still, but it isn’t. No, no, your mind is not put at ease by the hand resting over your navel, touching your battle-worn skin like it gives him comfort; it instead is overwrought by the thought he's stayed because he thinks he ought to. Feels sorry for you, has remained by your side because he wasn’t there when you were attacked, and now he has seen all he can of you has decided to wait for you to wake to inform you that he has no interest in you. He beds queens and ladies of status and not scarred wretches who almost had their throats ripped from their necks.

He’s not said a word of the sort, but this invented rebuffing of your feelings has your eyes watering and body curling in on itself, away from him. He notices immediately and curls closer around you without a word, just smoothing your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to it.  

“I know you’re awake.” In spite of yourself, you smile at the sing-song lilt of his voice.  

“No, I’m not.” You mumble, childishly, and the bard chuckles warmly across the back of your neck. It’s enough to make you roll onto your side to face him.  

Gods, he looks tired. You’ve seen him muddied and rained on and smeared with gore, but he’s so tired it almost breaks your heart. The bags beneath his eyes are so dark you think them bruises at first, deep purple and blue, stark against his skin and almost merging into the mussed-up mess of his hair that hangs like curtains curling into his eyes. He’s no longer in your dress, but instead a chemise crumpled beyond compare and trousers to match the doublet currently covering you. Dead to the world for a few days, Yennefer had said, and you believe from the state of his clothes that he's been mourning the same amount of time. Memories of the-thing-that-wasn't-Jaskier flash before your eyes, but he smiles, your fingers slide up to rest on his chin. Even sleep deprived and bleary eyed, he’s gorgeous, smiling at you like you're the gift that he's begged for on his birthday, some prized possession. He’s stayed beside you.  

“There's my love.” He says gently, thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your stomach. It’s the simplest thing he could have said, but it’s reaffirming and sweet. “You frightened me, Little Miss.”  

“Force of habit at this point, Dandy.” You say, fingers straying from the rough stubble of his chin to his lips, tracing his cupid's bow with your fingertips, feeling his smile before you see it.  

“I'd prefer you leave it for a while. I don’t think my heart could take that again any time soon.”  

“I doubt I could survive anything like that again.” You try to laugh but the pained look he shoots you makes you still again. Joking about almost dying is nothing new, and still he’s looking at you like your mortality is something he had never considered at all before all this.

“I could have lost you.”  

“Takes more than some monster in your skin to kill me off, Bard.” You smirk and lean in to peck his lips but he leans back to stare at you like you've two heads.  

“What do you mean, in my skin?”  

“It. It made me see things, while it... did that. To my neck.”

“See things?” He asks timidly.

“See you.” It comes out like a confession and you can’t even meet his eyes as you say it. “Doing things.”  

“What things, Darling?” He presses, thumb stilling and your own fingers fall from his mouth to the pillow. “Please, Lovely, what things?”  

“Jask-"  

“Missy, please. I need to know, you looked so afraid, I don’t want you to-"  

“You had your fingers in me.” You cut him off, and he blinks at you in shock. “Pinned to a wall, with your fingers inside me.”  

“It didn’t-" It's obvious as to the destination that his thoughts have arrived at.

“It was a dream.” You try desperately to reassure him and he heaves out a sigh of relief, tugging you to his chest while his face buries into your hair. His heart pounds against your ear and you can hear him breathe in deeply as he holds you tight. “It didn’t touch me. Not like that, anyway.”  

“No, it just almost killed you.”

“Like I said, Dandelion, I'm fine.”

You aren’t fine though; not really. Memory of the thing that looked like him touching you, kissing you, haunts you- especially with Jaskier holding you tight. It shouldn’t affect you in such a way, but your heart is racing and your core throbs with each breath. You aren’t afraid. Not at all, and that’s all the more worrying. No, you feel desperate; desperate to know if his fingers would actually feel that good curling within you, filling and spreading your most private of areas.  

“It made you see me. Touching you.” His tone is almost unreadable, not quite disappointed but instead like he doesn’t understand even though he wants to. That’s not the issue. The thing you disliked had nothing to do with the fingers inside you, instead that you knew it wasn’t him and there’s no way to explain that to him without sounding like some kind of wanton whore.  

“It. Must have seen us together in the woods.” You offer and he flinches, grip on you weakening.  

“It hurt you because I was thinking with my cock and not about what was going on.” He says coldly, but that bitter chill doesn’t quite reach you, no, the cold is aimed internally. You know this blame, know it well from nights when Jaskier has fallen asleep early and Geralt will allow you a few stories of his own. Hunts gone bad. People he couldn’t save, sparce words but the meaning is there all the same. You don’t understand it from the Witcher and understand it even less from the bard.

“Jaskier-" You start to argue but he shakes his head.  

“I wanted to fuck you.” He says it so forcefully, a term you’ve never heard come from him in regards to you, but it makes you still. He wanted to Fuck you, not progress, not move forward. Fuck you. Spear you on his cock ‘til you weep for him.  “And because I wanted to, it could hurt you. Knew how to hurt you."  

“Stop with the self-loathing, if I wanted that I'd seek Geralt out." You try to joke, but the pain in his eyes is enough to silence you. Eyes like those shouldn’t look so pained.

“You undressed me.” You whisper into the newly created silence and he nods softly.  

“You were covered in blood. I... I couldn’t bear to see you like that. Besides, the jacket rather suits you.”  

“It’s yours.”  

“I’m aware, Little Miss.” He chuckles weakly, smoothing your hair away from your eyes. “Makes us quite fair now, Darling, don’t you think? I’ve wore your dress and now you've worn my jacket.”  

Fair. Nothing about this is fair, there is nothing fair about the hurt written plainly across the Bard's face, how tired he is, how he is blaming himself. Nothing fair or right about how his trembling bottom lip has you thinking about nothing but trapping it between your teeth and sucking on it until he whimpers. But you sigh softly and lean in close to gently kiss his forehead.  

“I think you need to sleep.” You whisper, watching as he smiles and squeezes your hip gently.  

“You sound like my mother.” He says, tone somewhere between humour and blankness.  

“Oh?”  

“She loved to tell me what to do too.” It’s a joke, but your throat constricts painfully at the word mother.  

“Yes, well. You remind me of my mother sometimes too.”  

“Was she devilishly handsome too?” He raises an eyebrow, a smile toying at the corners of his lips.

“No. She blamed herself for my father's death.” You say concisely before rolling away from him and shutting your eyes, ending the conversation.  

She used to sing too. Once upon a time.

/////////

“There are men that that wound would have killed, kotku. I’m impressed you’re so well so soon.” The brush runs through your hair, a little rougher than you expect and you’re barely able to choke back the quiet whimper of pain. You've not had a proper chance to brush your hair since the attack, and when Yennefer had offered to help with it you took the opportunity with both hands, mostly so you didn’t have to concern yourself with the matted locks of hair and blood. She had taken the job in stride too, never complaining, just moving forwards with a quiet little hum. You sit there, hands resting on your knees and twisting the fabric of a borrowed nightgown, while her soft hands manoeuvre around your head and shifting your hair away from the healing wound on your throat.

Yennefer is a breath of fresh air. Not just because she’s another woman, though that fact doesn’t lessen your enjoyment of her presence: Yennefer is wonderful and so far from any other woman you've known, strange and dark in ways that would never have been tolerated in your home, gentle but with something just below the surface which has yet to rise for you. Any other person would be far more annoyed by the presence of an injured stranger in their home, but she’s taken you being here in good stride; Geralt and Jaskier though, less so. You’re a welcome guest, they are treated more as inconvenience. There is baggage here, that no one is willing to talk about, and you are unwilling to breach this unspoken conflict. It truly isn’t your place.  

That, and you don’t want that sort of coldness to be fixed on you. The woman's haughty annoyance is easily ignored, and you really don’t want to be on the receiving end of it- there’s a deeply childish part of your soul that is desperate to have her be your friend. You’re rather lacking in the friend department at the moment, and completely without any female friends. Yen seems a good friend to have.  

“I like to think I’m better than any man.” You reply playfully, trying as hard as you can to keep still. How her hair looks so shiny and fine if she brushes her own hair as aggressively as she’s brushing your own is a mystery. It’s like she’s trying to scalp you.  

“Two weeks for a wound like that.” She hums appreciatively, leaving you all but preening under the praise. Yes. Yen is a good friend to have, you decide, especially when her words of affirmation have you desperate for more.  

When you were young, you were the same. Following the older girls about the village, desperate to be involved, to be friends- to feel older than your age, they had humoured you at the time. Braiding your hair and singing you silly songs that you’re old enough now to realise were truly kind gestures, but gestures non-the-less. They weren’t your friends, no more than you were friends with the stray cat that used to yowl at the turnips that grew in your garden; you were a pet. A sweet little thing to keep about for fun, and send away once they had outstayed their welcome and the noise was no longer endearing but annoying instead. You can’t help but hope that it isn’t like that with Yennefer. You want to be her friend.  

“I'll be fighting again in no time.” You laugh, Yen’s brushing stopping entirely and she pats your shoulder.  

“Not today. Bath and some clothes, then we'll see how you are just using that arm.” She gestures towards the steaming tub in the other room. “I’ll leave you something. It might not fit right but it’s better than nothing.”  

Everything that the raven-haired woman has worn has been expensive looking and beautiful, but she is most definitely not the same size as you. Yennefer is slight and slender, and her deep skin looks beautiful against the fabric, even during that one winter you ate nothing but cabbage stew you weren’t as slim as her. “Stop it. In the water.” Yen chides, and you feel like a child. She has a strange sort of way of knowing how you think which you’re trying not to question. Mostly, because it feels like it would be impertinent to ask. So, you do as she asks and pad into the adjacent room, shutting the door before stripping down to nothing and climbing into the tub.  

The water is almost blisteringly hot. You’d wince, if it wasn’t exactly what you need. The heat feels like it’s stripping away all dirt and sweat that has ever been on your flesh; wiping away the touch of the phantasmal Jaskier. Your thoughts return to him again. In inns, when you can find them, Jaskier always orders you a bath, slipping a bottle of scented oils into your hand before you can argue about him wasting coin on you. It’s always sweet and floral and light, almost definitely more money than it’s worth, and beautiful. There’s a collection of oil vials in your bag that you would never admit to, a few containing flowers he’s picked for you during your travels. Sentimental as it is, you’re a realist. One day all of this will end, and they’ll be all you have to remember him by- oh Gods, you want to remember him always, stupid jokes and bad puns and all. You haven’t seen him in a week.  

Yennefer has insisted Geralt and Jaskier give you space to heal, you think she meant for them to go about Witchering and she would send you to find them when healed, but they’ve stayed. Some days you can hear them, arguing about something or other, sometimes playing Gwent. It’s bittersweet to have them so close but not speak to them. For a while, they’ve been the only consistency in your life, so not having them is... strange. You’re trying to readjust to sleeping alone. It isn’t easy.  

Your hands sink into the water and you scoop it about your body and begin scrubbing, trying desperately to distract yourself from Jaskier. It’s sort of silly just how much you miss him. He’s just A Bard. A silly, wonderful, handsome bard. It’s ridiculous how someone like him could so simply work his way into your heart.  

The world feels a smaller place without him.  

You stay in the water until it chills, and would have stayed longer were it not for the numbing of your rear and thighs. When you finally make your way back into your bedchambers, Yen is long gone, and in her place is a dress. It’s very much what you expect from her, black velvet with hints of red running through the fabric, a deep plunging neckline and a cinched waist. Even with a corset tied as tightly as possible, you doubt it will fit but try and stay upbeat about it. It was nice of Yen to even lend it to you in the first place without your being moody, so you retrieve your undergarments and pull them back in place, tying your corset tightly. It takes a second or so to convince yourself to even touch the dress, never mind try on. It’s soft to the touch, far too rich for your blood, making you feel like some sort of maid who ought be bringing this garment to a queen or countess, not putting it on. You do put it on though, afraid that it will be much too small, only to be pleasantly surprised once you lace it and turn to the mirror. It fits, comfortably too, hugging your frame in a way that makes you feel attractive. Beneath the mirror, which you try not to look at, you find a small number of cosmetics, you assume courtesy of Yen, and smile. You barely ever wear such things but putting it on surely couldn’t hurt. A little bit of powder, a smudge of kohl about the eyes and rouge to the lips, it takes very little time, but you barely recognise the woman staring back at you. She’s familiar, like a relative you seldom see, but you wouldn’t assume it to be you. Her hair is a little wild, but the face is one of a dark sort of elegance, simple but enough to make a difference to you  especially when combined with the dress. You had miscalculated the neckline, assuming it to be a deep plunge but instead it is far less severe and hangs off of the shoulders to form puffy sleeves that taper in at the elbow to tight cuffs. It's gorgeous and you feel beautiful but its not right. You feel like a child playing dress up. You breathe in shallowly and turn towards the door.  

“I’ll not let you keep her from me a minute longer!” You hear shouted through the door. Jaskier. His voice rings clear as a bell.  

“She's bathing.” Yen says simply. Her voice is passive, even bored, and you can tell she's only doing it to upset him.  

“Alone! After being injured! She could have drowned or-"  

“Have you always been a mother hen? Or is this some sort of way of trying to get into her bed?”  

“How dare you!”  

“I know how you act, Dandelion. I’ve seen you around women. Bedding them, leaving. Your little miss deserves better than that.”  

“You act like I don’t know that!” He snaps back at her and you step out of the bedroom, following their squabbling until you’re stood in the doorway watching them. Yennefer has a finger thrust into Jaskier's chest, pointed black nail leaving an indent in his clothing as he bares his teeth at her, like an animal raring to attack. It’s like watching day meet night, blue boy scowling at a woman shrouded in black.  

Your blue boy.  

It’s been a week, you’ve gone longer without seeing rain, but the sight of Jaskier lifts a weight off of you that you hadn’t even known was there. He looks better rested, if a little strange glaring, hair still dishevelled. The fact that you had heard the two of them all the way to the door is the only way you know that the two of them hadn’t been in a physical fight before you got there. You know the sound of skin on skin too well to have missed it. One might break out still if the tension in the air is anything to go by. You’ve broken up drunken scraps over less, but you can’t bring yourself to move. Some part of you wants to see how this plays out before you intervene. A sick part of you wants to know if they will fight, over you at that. Dandelion is hardly the kind of man to start a brawl with a woman, but Yen most definitely seems like the sort of woman who would start a fight with a man. Truly, she seems like the sort of woman who would win a fight against a man, or ten.

“She almost died-"  

“And you’re leaving her alone in a bath where anything could happen! She could fall asleep and drown. Could trip and hurt herself more! I have put up with this for a week, Witch, and I won’t be putting up with it for a moment longer. I was willing to be quiet for Geralt’s sake, but he isn’t here now.” His voice is venomous, cold enough to make you shiver. Jaskier isn’t cold. He’s all sunlight and summer, like coming home to a lit hearth in the depth of winter; this is new. You’ve never been the subject of his ire, but every time you have seen it, its been. Different. Angry Jaskier is smug, self-aggrandising and sure, this is almost afraid. Like you being without him might cause you to be lost to him. Has that happened with others, you wonder, time ripping people from his grip?  

“You’re being an arse! Making her sleep alone in a stranger’s home-"  

“She’s a fucking grown woman, she can sleep without you lingering about her like a fart in a crowded room!”

“Do the two of you always argue like this?” You ask lightly, leaning against the door frame for stability. Both turn quickly, startled by your voice seemingly coming out of nowhere.  

Normally, when you walk it’s with a purpose, in sturdy boots and belts that clink together, there is no way to be silent, so the gown has given you a silent presence that is impossible to achieve normally. Geralt is always silent, appearing and disappearing like a phantom. Must be fun, you think to yourself, to linger in the background just listening to how other people interact with each other. So much gossip to hear, arguments to silently choose a side in. You almost wish this would be a regular occurrence, even if you can’t help but miss that sound of chinking metal on metal from buckles and blades.

As much as you know that the difference in your appearance is drastic, you aren’t expecting the response that you get. Jaskier gawks at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, while Yennefer smiles at you, nodding with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Well. Look who didn’t die in the bath.” She says, voice all light and playful- a world away from the cruel tone she had used for Jaskier. It feels a little patronising, like she’s speaking to a child or a pet, but you smile all the same. She's been so kind to you, and you know better than to bite the hand that feeds. “You look pretty without all the mud and blood.”  

“I feel pretty.” You admit, tripping a little over the words. “I'm surprised the dress even fits.”  

“Of course it does.” She replies with such finality as she sidles to your side, brushing down the fabric at your hips. There are no wrinkles there, you’re quite sure, but the act makes you blush- barely anyone touches your hips, so the feeling of hands on them, even through the clothing, is enough to make your mouth go dry. Violet eyes focus on you like you’re the only person in the room and you almost feel like it. It’s like you’ve been bewitched, and you only return to reality when a choked-out noise across from you brings you out of your own head.  

Jaskier is still gaping, staring at you like a stranger, and your blush only intensifies under his eyes. The stare is almost hungry, and you recognise it from that night when your neck had been ripped open- but not from that dream. No, from when he had laid you down in front of the fire and slotted himself between your legs, member thick against your thigh. You feel like a slab of meat in front of a hungry animal, like at a second’s notice he will pounce on you and sink his teeth into you. A vein in his throat bulges as he breathes in before Yennefer steps away from you.  

“Jask?” You ask, and his only response is an exhale that verges on a pained moan. You move toward him worriedly. “Jaskier?”  

“Gods, Little Miss. Look at you.” He whispers.  

“What’s wrong with me?” You ask quickly, afraid all at once that you don’t look as pretty as you had initially thought. Too pale, eyes too dark, lips too much like blood.  

“Absolutely nothing.” Yennefer intervenes sharply, hand resting on your shoulder in a manner that is both reassuring and restrictive.  

“You. You.” He stammers out, looking you up and down, which you mirror. “You... You look like...” He stumbles over the words forming in his throat and just reaches for you instead, hands finding yours and tugging you into a possessive grasp, body melting around yours. “Gods, I don’t even know.”  

You want to ask if that is a bad thing, but you know it isn’t. The knowledge makes you feel powerful.

[lillywillow]

From Russia With Love

Summary: When Steve and Bucky investigate an old HYDRA base left over from World War II, they find something nobody could have ever predicted... A pilot from the legendary 588th night bomber regiment frozen in time.

 Word Count: 2117

 Square Filled: Military Base

 Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader

 Warnings: WWII warfare, slight angst

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

 Author’s Note: Although I will be using real historical people and events, some of the names and actions I will be using are fictional. The 588th night bomber regiment were an all female squadron from Russia in World War II. They were given hand-me-down men’s uniforms and poor, outdated equipment. Their planes were not designed for combat. The planes let out a whistle as it idled through the sky which the German’s thought sounded like a broomstick, giving them the nickname ‘Die Nachthexen’ or Night Witches.

 Germany, 1944. Three Polikarpov U-2 biplanes move silently through the night sky, their engines cut at the behest of the navigators. A soldier was making his rounds about the perimeter of the base when an unearthly scream pierced the air. A chill ran down his spine as he looked around. Suddenly, a shadow of a plane darkens the ground. The soldier abruptly realised what was happening.

 “Die Nachthexen!” he screamed. The base was rapidly brought to life with activity when the air raid siren wailed. Soldiers rushed to man the anti-aircraft guns as the Night Witches dropped the first bomb. Two of the planes broke formation to draw away the ground fire as the third dropped the next bomb. The last plane made a sharp turn and was able to drop the last bomb on the base. With their mission complete, the engines went back on and the planes headed home to Russia.

 Out of nowhere, a German fighter plane appeared. The biplanes were slower but their much smaller size gave them an advantage in the fact they had a tight turning ratio but for one plane, it wasn’t enough. One of the pilots cried out in pain as a bullet grazed her arm. The canvas wings of the plane were ablaze, there was no other option but to bring the plane down. The navigator held the pilot’s shoulders to steady her as they crashed into the ground.

 Dazed by the impact, the pilot held her head, feeling something wet and warm drip down her face. She turned behind her to check on her navigator whose head was slumped to her chest. She reached for her hand.

 “Yelena... I’m sorry...” Black spots swam in her vision before the darkness took over.

...

Germany, present day. Steve and Bucky were called on a mission to investigate what was possibly a HYDRA base left over from WWII. On their way in, they noticed the remains of a downed plane a few miles out from the base that nature had taken over in the course of sixty years give or take. On the surface, it had the hell bombed out of it. Steve managed to find a charred door in amongst the wreckage and went in, Bucky following behind. Underground was a rabbit warren of rooms and passageways, their secrets lost to time, waiting to be uncovered.

 “We should split up,” Steve said, getting out his flashlight. Bucky nodded and got out his own. The duo headed in, checking each and every room for anything that might be of HYDRA origin.

 This place gave Bucky the creeps and bad memories began to invade his mind; memories of when he lost his identity of Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes and given the new one of The Winter Soldier. Room after room they looked in until Steve found something.

 “Buck, you gotta see this...” Bucky made his way to where Steve called him to and whatever he was expecting, this was not it. The room was still lit with sickening fluorescent lights. In the back corner, there were two pods. One was empty, whatever test subject it held was long gone. The other had a woman still cryogenically frozen inside. Bucky placed his right hand on the glass.

 “She’s just like me...”

 “Think you can make sense of these?” Steve asked, holding up a dusty file written in German. Bucky picked them up and read through the notes. It stated the woman’s name and why she was there. There was also information on a second woman, presumably whoever was in the second pod. Apparently, they were going to be used for a programme akin to the Winter Soldiers or the Red Room but the project had been scrapped and only one of the subjects was moved.

 “I’m going to let Fury know what we’ve found.” Steve headed out to make the call but Bucky stayed behind. He couldn’t leave this woman all alone now that he knew she was there.

...

 Feeling a pounding in your head, you opened your eyes. Slowly, you sat up, looking around. You appeared to be back in your base. Funny... you didn’t remember making it back. The last thing you remembered was crashing after completing a mission. Was a rescue sent out and that’s how you got here? You spotted another woman in one of the other beds. Steadily, you got up and went over to her.

 “Come on, Yelena. We’ve got another mission,” you said, shaking her shoulder. As she sat up, you immediately noticed that this was not your navigator.

 “You’re not Yelena...”

 “No, I’m a new recruit. My name is Natalia Romanova,” she replied in Russian.

 “Well I hope you’re a quick study, Natalia. Major Bershanskaya will not make things easy for you. Now get ready. Training for you starts now.”

 As you got dressed, something struck you as very odd. Your uniform fitted perfectly like it was tailored for you and your boots weren’t oversized. It set off alarm bells in your head but you didn’t want to frighten the new girl. As you headed out, you saw an officer standing and waiting for you.

 “Who are you?” you asked, confused as to why this man would be here, especially one who looked so high up in command. Something else that you noticed was that there were planes around the base.

 “I’m your new commanding officer...” That did it. There was no way your commander would leave her girls. You managed to snatch his sidearm but even faster, Natalia had you in a headlock, one hand holding the wrist you held the gun.

 “Who are you?! Where am I?! What have you done with Yelena?! Where is my navigator?!” The pair exchanged a look and conversed in English, something you didn’t understand.

 “I can explain everything... just give me the gun,” the man prompted. Slowly, you handed him the sidearm which he put away and Natalia let go of you.

 “You have been asleep for over sixty years...”

 “What?! How?! We... we were just there... and... Yelena! Where is she? Is she okay? Is she safe?” The pair exchanged another look.

 “You were the only one we found in the base...” You broke down sobbing and straight away the man held you up as you trembled. He rubbed your back and stroked your hair which you found strangely comforting. How could you have been asleep for sixty years? It was only hours ago you were flying to drop bombs on German bases.

...

 A few hours later, you were sitting by the window of the room which had been set up for you thinking over all the new information which had been given to you. They had given you new clothes but the only ones who spoke your language were the ones you met at the fake base camp. Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

 “May I come in?” A male’s voice asked.

 “Yes...” The man who you came to learn was named Bucky walked in with a plate of food.

 “I thought you might like something to eat...”

 “I’m not hungry...”

 “I know what you’re going through but you still need to eat...”

 “How could you possibly know what I’m going through?! Do you know what it’s like to be with friends one minute and find out they’re all gone?! To wake up in a strange place with strange people?! To have no idea what the hell is going on?!” He was quiet for a few moments.

“Actually... I do.” You were taken aback from his response. Bucky sat down on your bed and began telling you his life’s story.

 He told you about his best friend Steve who always used to getting in trouble. He enlisted in the American army the moment he could. His time in the Howling Commandos. About how he fell off the train and became a weapon for HYDRA for decades. As he spoke, his eyes began to ghost over, reliving the old memories that you could see were haunting him. You sat next to him and held his hand. Bucky hastily wiped his eyes.

 “What about you? Tell me your story...”

 You smiled softly. You told him about your father who died defending Osowiec Fortress and how it inspired you to fight for your country. When the call went out for women to fly bomber planes, you and your best friend Yelena Belsky both applied and got in, you as a pilot and she as a navigator. You flew many sorties together. Your commander Major Yevdokiya Bershanskaya was stern but fair with you girls but taught you everything you knew. You spoke about your last mission, the one you were on when your plane was shot down.

 Bucky listened to your every word, looking at you with total admiration. Most of the men looked at you with pity or distain. You couldn’t help but blush a little under his intense gaze.

 “I, um... I think I’ll have something to eat now,” you mumbled, taking the plate he brought with him. “Thank you...”

 “Anytime... if you ever want to talk, you can always come to me. Nat should be available too...”

 “I appreciate that.”

 To Bucky, those memories were a lifetime ago but to you, they were only like yesterday. It somehow felt good to share those stories with someone who understood what it was like to go through the same thing you were.

...

 The months flew by and before you knew it, a year had passed. Between Natasha and Bucky you were now fluent in English. They taught you hand to hand combat and other things you would need to join The Avengers, although, you were pretty much an ace pilot when it came to the jets. Natasha became your best friend and you frequently spoke in Russian with her. You formed a bond with Steve too once the language barrier came down, sharing war stories with each other but the person on the team you were closest to was Bucky. He taught you a lot over the months and it wasn’t long before you started dating. It was inevitable.

...

 One night, you were standing on the balcony, looking at the moon and thinking about that fateful night you were assigned to bomb that base all those years ago. You wondered if your friend was dead or alive. The team had told you they would help you find her, searching all HYDRA archives they came across and Bucky helped you to follow every lead. Your heart hoped for the best but you knew to expect the worst.

 “Hey, Doll.” You turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway. He walked over to you and put his arm around you, kissing your head. “What’s on your mind?”

 “Yelena... I can’t help but hope that I’ll find her one day. She was like my sister. Natasha has been wonderful, you all have but it’s hard being stuck in the past...”

 “Tell me about it,” Bucky muttered softly. “You know... it’s been just over a year now since we met...”

 “So it has,” you wistfully replied. “Time sure flies...”

 “It sure does... and I don’t want to waste any more of it.” You looked confused as Bucky pulled away from you.

 “When I was called on that mission to uncover an old HYDRA base, I never thought I would meet the love of my life. You’re one of the bravest, strongest, most incredibly women I know. Will you marry me?” Bucky got down on one knee and presented you with a beautiful ring. You couldn’t help but tear up.

 “Yes, Bucky, I will!” Bucky smiled and stood up, sliding the ring on your finger and kissing you.

 Who knew that a German base lost to time would connect two military personals so perfectly together?

[minalous]

nothing like us (m)

pairing: jungkook x reader

warnings: siren!jungkook, soulmate au, mentions of death, a little bit of smut, a lot of angst, jungkook is smitten

genre: angst | fluff | smut

words: 3k

This is one of the seven fics for the project “Greek mythological creatures” that I have been working on for my mutuals 💖 This is for my baby @joonsrack​ !!

♡

“I lied to you. You shall never live”

The bridge was empty, not a soul to be seen for miles but there he was. Power dripped from the tip of his tongue, words waiting to be spilled and control the woman walking on the bridge’s rails. 

“You are safe, beautiful.” he said “Dance for me, dance once more”

The woman would obey his every command with no hesitation, his power was growing stronger by the years and now was his chance to test it. When he saw her walking down the street, he immediately sensed her vulnerability, a weakness that came to become his strength, to be able to control her as his puppet. The wind kept howling as if it knew there was a life getting taken, piece by piece he was consuming her, devouring her soul. The trees were dancing along with her, following her every step, their leaves crying for her as the wind was taking them away from the tree’s embrace. 

Fingertips light as the morning breeze playfully wandered on her feverish skin, his voice was becoming the devil's whisper, the voice that will dethrone her from her crown of beauty. 

“Do you trust me, beautiful?”

“Yes” she foolishly said

“So naive, trusting so easily” 

His chuckle was dark as the night, dark as his heart and soul. Nobody would be able to resist his power, the way he could make his way inside one's mind, the way he could twist someone's thoughts and make them his own. 

Once he saw how the girl was so willing to do as he said, he wondered how far she would go, how much he could break her will. 

"Ready to jump?" he asked

He asked her to jump to her death the same way he would ask someone to sing. It was so easy for him to toy with people. And he had someone to thank for, someone who made him who he is.

"Before you jump, I want you to wake up, to wake up and see how it feels to get your life taken" his voice was cold as ice "but you cannot scream or run for your life" 

The woman came to realise how her life was about to end, the first thing she did was to beg for her life. Pointless, all of her screams for help, all of her begging to spare her life were nothing more than mere noise to his ears.

"Please, Jungkook. I don't want to die" 

A tear dripping down her face, acknowledging her fate is sealed.

"Jump" 

Jungkook did not watch her die, he did not stay to see her take her own life. He had already started walking away. Jungkook was only interested to see the agony inside the eyes of his victims. Oh how he loved to know he had the power to end lives, the thrill he would feel rushing through his veins as he feasted upon the horror of his actions. 

Because once again he had someone else to blame for everything. If he had no reason to live, nobody else should be given a reason to live.

"One by one, those who wronged her shall all die. One by one, you shall all meet her fate" 

Another century has passed, another lifetime without you. Jungkook could never forget you, could never resist the urge to hunt people down like him, people that took you away from him. Because you were too kind for this world, too innocent.

In a moment of desperation, he decided he needed to take his mind off of you and put some of his anger into good use. Some of the people that are responsible for your death are hunting around his territory, a grave mistake but to them was a game of power. Jungkook did not wish to waste any more time, he had his servants arrange a ball where the most powerful and important people would love to attend. 

"Sir, here is the list of the people who accepted the invitation for tomorrow night's ball."

He sat down in his office to read the list, to see if everything was going according to the plan. The list in Jungkook's hands proved how foolish some people are. Of course those idiot rivals of his fell right on his trap, rivals he was trying desperately to get rid of, men he despised. 

The people he came to despise were followers of his father's circle; his own kind was hunting him down only because he made the mistake of being weak to his father's eyes, because he fell in love with you. 

You were nothing more than a servant in everyone's eyes but not to him. In his eyes you were strong, smart, independent. The times he had caught you rebelling against his father's incompetent men were more than enough to make you one of his favourite people. 

Sooner or later, Jungkook trusted you enough to approach you and you felt you could trust him as much as he did. Small chats led to conversations, faint smiles led to stolen kisses and love led to lust. 

"Sir, we need to discuss about tomorrow night's wine menu"

But Jungkook could not focus in the present, his mind was focused on how your lips felt so soft, how good your warm body felt against his, glimpses of the nights you were moaning his name. He loved the way you moaned his name, you were so eager to please him that you were not afraid to let him be your first. 

"Jungkook.. please"

He almost lost his mind the moment he pushed his length inside you but nothing could compare to the next thing that happened.

"I love you"

Jungkook loved you so much, for so long. His heart could burst from happiness in that moment. That night he said he loved you too, that night you became his. 

"I will always find my way back to you. I promise" you whispered as he fell asleep in your arms 

Only if your secret was to stay hidden, only if you were lucky to run away together.

"Sir, dinner is ready."

Daydreaming about you was one of the few things keeping him sane. The ball tomorrow night could be a success and the burden in his heart could become a little easier to carry. Only if it were that easy to handle the pain inside his mind and soul.

The night of his revenge was here, the darkness covered the town with its thick veil and the monsters were out to play. Nobody was more prepared than Jungkook in this game of hunt. The men attending his ball were under the belief they were the hunters. Little did they know that their fate would be worse than his lover's. 

Jungkook is orchestrating his plan inside his mind. He is standing at the top of the stairs, his eyes stuck on his prey. The men have come here to remind him of his place and where he belongs; his place is right next to his father but it is not as easy as it seems. His father was the one who took his lover away, a crime he cannot forgive nor forget. Never. 

Thoughts travel once more in the past, his mind clouded with anger. They were planning on leaving that day, they wanted to have a new beginning together, to start a family. But his father had far too many eyes surrounding his son. He knew his every movement, his every thought, his every wish. 

"Father, please. I will not leave. Please do not hurt her."

His father was not pleased to see his only son falling under that woman's spell. He was convinced that the woman was a witch and she came to kill his son. 

"She cannot stay here, she cannot be around you"

Jungkook did not plan to lose her. He tried to run towards her but his father was too strong to fight him, he tossed Jungkook across the room like he was made out of feathers. The men holding her handed her a dagger, she willingly took it in her hands. Her eyes were dark, she was now lost under his father's spell. 

"Pierce your heart with that dagger. Do me this favour, will you?"

Jungkook's heart was beating so fast inside his chest, he could not believe his father could be so cruel towards the only person that made him happy for the first time in his life. He screamed your name louder than a thunder, so loud that he could feel he had you back for a second. 

"I love you" you whispered before piercing the dagger through your heart 

Jungkook could only remember crying for a few seconds before his whole world went black. He woke up with you in his arms, covered in blood and his father nowhere to be found. Losing you felt the same as losing his last piece of sanity. He never meant to become who he is today but not caring at all was the only way he could make it until today. 

He was missing you every day of his immortal life. He was missing your touch, your affection, your kindness, your eyes, your scent. You smelled of lilies and vanilla. Your scent felt like home. Your scent.. 

Jungkook could smell your scent. For a second he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him, the daydream being too real.

Jungkook runs down the stairs, his senses directing him towards that familiar scent, the scent of you. His steps lead him into his kitchen where he sees a young woman.

"My love" he whispers 

He can see a woman standing right in front of the sink, filling a glass of water before turning around. Jungkook's sudden presence scares her, the glass meeting the cold floor.

"I am so sorry, sir" 

It was you. When your eyes met his, he could tell. It was you.. After all this time he has found you again.

"Those eyes.. I could never forget those eyes." 

"Pardon me, sir, I cannot hear you" you say confused 

"You have her eyes" Jungkook says once more 

"I am sorry, sir, I cannot understand what you are saying" you add 

You cannot hear what Jungkook is talking about, you are embarrassed enough you have entered inside his kitchen like you own it. You are trying to carefully pick up the broken pieces when Jungkook touches your hand. 

Nothing can explain, nothing can put in words how you felt when his hand touched yours. A wave of euphoria and unbearable love filled up your heart. For a moment you forgot how to breathe, the time stopped and it was only Jungkook and you. Your eyes met and locked, the room was spinning but at the same time it stood still, it was you and him against the world. No sound could be heard except for his heartbeat. His eyes could see through your core but it did not scare you, his image was new to you and yet so familiar. How could one person make you feel so safe and happy when you do not even know them? 

You turn your eyes into another direction and try to make your way out of the kitchen. Something doesn't feel right, your heart aches to leave him behind. 

Jungkook is standing still at the same spot he was a second ago. 

"Do not tell me you do not feel what I feel right now" he tells you, his voice trembling with pain

"It is not my place to feel, I am promised to another man"

Jungkook looks at you, his eyes filled with grey skies, a wounded man walking towards you. And before he can protest against whatever it is to happen, you touch his face with both of your hands, eyes gazing into the depths of his soul.

"It is so strange.. It feels like I know you." 

You truthfully feel it, deep down you sense an emotion so strange, a newborn feeling.

 "I was waiting for you, for so long"

The new feelings are starting to become so unbearable, so hard for you to hold them inside your heart and in a desperate move you let them explode. More than anything you desire to kiss him and Jungkook senses it, he closes the space between your lips. He takes his time to taste you, a chaste, deep kiss is the beginning of your downfall inside his arms. He tastes so sweet that you ask for more, his tongue slowly swirling around yours. Jungkook is now under your skin, he has you where he wants you. 

"Do you love me?" he asks you but with no words 

Mind and soul scream yes.. Yes, you love him

"Do you need me?" 

Yes, you need him. 

That night Jungkook felt blessed to have found you, that night he spared his enemies' lives so you won't see him as a monster. He would rather wait, wait until he knows you could understand his reasoning behind being a killer. He needed you to understand how your beautiful siren ended up luring his victims into their death instead of luring them into paradise.

Days go by so slowly since you came to know the feeling of true love. Being around your fiance is nothing more than a routine to you. He is a lovely man who wants nothing more than to make you happy and it hurts you so much to betray him. Jimin has been a gentleman from the first day he was introduced to you, a truly beautiful man.

Every day you spend with Jimin, you feel falling out of love with him. The more you stay with him, the less happy you feel. You need Jungkook. The days you accidentally see him are the days you feel the happiest. The air around you seems lighter, your heart gets filled with strange emotions.  

You saw Jungkook yesterday at the library where he was reading a book. He was so far away from you, yet you had never felt closer to someone. With only one look, a sweet memory played like a song inside your mind. A melancholic song that only you and Jungkook could hear, one last chance to have you hear what his words may never be able to explain. 

The same dreams, the same memories, the same soul. Inside his thoughts, he let you walk among broken pieces of his mind, memories from when he was with someone he truly loved. It was like looking into a mirror once you saw her. The woman was crying and begging, nobody able to hear her. But she was not crying because of her fate; she was crying and begging for her lover's fate. Her heart was broken to see the man she fell in love with hurt. 

Jungkook was bleeding on the floor, so far away from her. Her mind was fighting her body but in vain. She wished she could go there, hold him inside her arms, tell him everything would be alright. She knew he was strong enough to overcome his physical pain, she was aware that her life was already over. What she wanted was to have a last chance to tell him how much she loved him, to touch him so he could feel everything was real and she never meant to harm him. 

It was true. She was a witch and she was there to kill Jungkook. Her mother demanded she ended his life with the dagger Jungkook's father made her end hers. She could not bear to tell the truth, she could not bear to see what would happen if his father's anger was to get directed towards Jungkook. 

She let go. She took her own life, willingly, no spells, no mind control. She smiled at Jungkook with her sweetest smile and told him she loved him. You could feel both of their hearts getting broken, a sharp pain into your heart breaking it in half. 

A deathless death. The immense pain Jungkook felt at that moment was enough to break the veil between the underworld and the earth. The woman was blessed with the chance to write her love into the stars, she was blessed to avenge her death and her lover's pain. Within seconds all of his father's men were lying on the floor, gasping for air but his father was lucky enough to slip from within her grasp. 

When the memories started fading away, you could feel your body giving up on you. It took all of your strength not to faint, Jungkook already by your side to hold you as if he knew you were exhausted from this experience. 

"I am sorry" is all you say before drifting off 

Sea of people, inside your dream there are so many people. No familiar faces to be seen, strangers among strangers, people passing you by and it starts being so difficult to breathe. The people around you start becoming shadows, fear consumes you bit by bit, no hope of getting out of here alive.

You close your eyes in hope of waking up from this nightmare when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

"You need to wake up" 

It's a familiar voice. You slowly open your eyes to see a woman standing right in front of you, her whole body radiating light, so bright that the shadows can barely be seen.

"He needs us. He needs you"  

The more you look at her, the more you can tell it is her. It must be her. 

She softly puts her hand in yours and you just knew, you knew what you had to do, you knew who you were, you knew what Jungkook meant to you. Her feelings are yours, you share the same soul. You had a second chance in love. All you needed to do was to open your eyes.

And once you do, you see him; Jungkook looking at you with the same look in his eyes when he first saw you. His voice calling your name, awakening your heart's desire to fall in love with him all over again. You have found your way back to him as you promised you always will.. 

Jungkook gives you his hand, offering you everything your heart has always wanted.

"Take my hand now" 

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Oooooo if 3-E were supernatural creatures who would be what 👀👀👀

Oooohh this is interesting to think about! I’m sorry, I don’t know a lot haha so I did some research to have more options!!

Karma: Demon

I feel like I don’t need to elaborate on this too much lmao. The boy is mischievous, LOVES to mess with mortals for no reason. When he’s feeling a particularly strong emotion, usually rage, excitement, etc, his eyes glow a shade of yellow-gold (like what canon showed)

Isogai: Demi-God

His crazy perfection in everything has to come from somewhere. His father was a God who left his realm and lost his immortality to be with Isogai’s mother, a mortal. Isogai only became aware of his heritage after his father’s passing.

Okajima: Half-Angel

LMAO I mostly picked this for the irony, but it kinda fits ngl. He’s generally a good, loyal, kind person and a very good friend. His perverted nature is his one big flaw and comes from the influence of his mortal father, who was his main guardian since his mother remained on Heaven.

Okano: Werewolf

I’m gonna credit this one to @greengargouille haha. They made a wonderful post about this idea that I still adore with my whole heart. But yeah, Okano being a badass werewolf with crazy athleticism and defying femininity expectations? Yes please.

Okuda: Witch

She excels in potion-making, of course. She comes from a long line of witches and magic-users in her family. So she feels quite a bit of pressure to be successful. She’s very talented but needs a tad bit more of control in her magic.

Kataoka: Mermaid

This one shouldn’t be a surprise haha. She’s a very strong and powerful swimmer...but where does all that raw talent come from? Surprise, Megu is a mermaid and she can transform between her physical forms at will. She loves the water because it’s her home and what she knows best.

Kayano: Part-Phoenix

I don’t know how this works and how someone can be part-Phoenix lmao, but it fits her way too well. A being that goes out in flames and starts a new life...isn’t that basically what Kayano did after her reveal? Her new life is her going by Akari again and showing her true colors to the class.

Kanzaki: Goddess

She’s apart of a very royal family of gods...all with ridiculously high standards and little respect for her. Kanzaki is very powerful and has so much raw potential but she’s never been able to show it. Her best skills are teleportation, invisibility, and a strong grasp on aerokinesis.

Kimura: Centaur

I’m serious about this one lmao. He’s a very fast runner and impresses everyone, and it’s thanks to his strong physique and raw energy in centaur form. Don’t worry, he can shape-shift back to a human form, but he hates it because he loses his height and is back to being 160 cm.

Kurahashi: Fairy

Of course, this bright, sunny, cheerful sweet girl could only be a fairy. She has a very strong connection to nature and wildlife, to the point that if they’re harmed, she feels the pain. Her wings are very tiny at age 14 can easily hide underneath her clothes. But by adulthood, they’re grown and able to use for flight.

Nagisa: Half-Ghoul

Surprise...this soft boy is actually half-evil :’). His father is actually a ghoul, and Nagisa was very much unaware of it for all his life. Hiromi kept it a secret and tried to suppress that part of him too. Basically I imagine what it means for Nagisa is that death draws him, and his physiology is why he has such a high bloodlust. When he’s pushed to his limits, he’s terrifying... (cough Takaoka cough)

Sugaya: Wizard

He comes from a relatively average line of wizards, who all moved to the mortal realm and own artisan businesses. Sugaya wishes to do something similar and follow his passion for art. He mostly uses his magic for that, levitating his brushes, enhancing his work, creating new things. He’s quite talented at conjuring.

Sugino: Angel

Yes, I’m serious about this. Sugino is a very good person and always strives to lead others down the right path. He’s good at guiding, but even he wants to live for himself for once. So he learns what baseball is and grows a strong love for it.

Takebayashi: Wizard

Unlike Sugaya, he comes from a super prestigious line of successful and powerful wizards. His family is one of the top ones. He feels immense pressure to live up to them. His talents lie in fire magic, particularly creating explosions. And he’s a very skilled healer.

Chiba: Half-Dragon

Fitting considering his name 💜 He has the ability to change between his human and dragon form, but it’s very shaky for now. His eyes are a bright, terrifying shade of red, and it exposes his dragon heritage so he must hide it.

Terasaka: Half-Titan

His Titan physiology is the reason for his raw strength and physical prowess. He’s incredibly strong and has a high endurance, durability, stamina... He’s a talented fighter and will always use his advantage to protect his loved ones.

Nakamura: Siren

She hates being a siren so much. She has to deal with boring mortal guys all the time, who for some reason, love her voice. She gets a real kick out of fooling them though, and the pranks are always chaotic. Since she’s been having to sing and use her voice, she’s gotten the chance to learn many languages. She has an affinity for them, and wants to continue learning more.

Hazama: Witch

I know this is a little cliche. But in contrast to the potion-centered Okuda, Hazama excels in linguistic spells. She keeps a journal of every new one she learns, as well as images of herbs and such. She’s very interested in dark arts, but will only indulge in it with the presence of someone else, to make sure she doesn’t fall too deep.

Hayami: Witch

Wow I’m really repeating so many. Hayami is a very hardworking, talented witch. But she’s so focused on helping others, she tends to get taken advantage of unfortunately. She’s best at transfigurations, altering things to her (and others) liking. Her favorite test subject is Okajima. She’s quite talented in hand-to-hand combat and having kinetic vision, which helps in magic. She wants a cat as a familiar so badly.

Hara: Fairy

Hara says “fuck you” to the idea that fairies are traditionally small and frail. She’s proud of her physique and strength, and her interest in fighting. She’s still the sweetest fairy there could be, always looking after everyone and all of nature. She loves cooking and sharing it with as many people as she can find.

Fuwa: Ghost

Yep our crazy, lively Fuwa is a ghost! Specifically, she’s a poltergeist, the kind who try to create mischief in some way and move things around. The reason why Fuwa is kinda wild and open about her passions is so she can be noticed by people...if her presence isn’t being acknowledged, she loses her physical form and goes back to being a transparent spirit. It isn’t all bad though. Her favorite thing to do is read mangas in ghost form, so all people see is a floating copy of One Piece.

Maehara: Vampire

This one is a little cliche lmao, but he’s a vampire playboy who always ends up accidentally turning his girlfriends into vampires too with his bites. No one ever suspects him of being a vampire since he looks like sunshine incarnate. He’s quite reckless and has come close to being exposed multiple times, and Isogai always scolds him.

Mimura: Elf

Poor boy is a little insecure about being an Elf...he tries his best not to stand out, especially given his dad’s love for the spotlight. He is good at basic magic, slightly above average. His best talent and what he excels at is photokinesis. He uses it on his filming hobby, to change what’s on camera, adjust lighting, etc. He can go as far as even completely remove shadows from the sunlight.

Muramatsu: Alchemist

He comes from a relatively average family of alchemists that used their abilities for culinary purposes. He enjoys it a lot, and is very talented. He prefers to rely on physical prowess when it comes to fights, but is able to use his alchemy additionally.

Yada: Vampire

Yada is the hot vampire girlfriend we all wish we had 😔 Just kidding haha. But yes, she’s a vampire and no one would ever expect it with how good she is at hiding. She plans out her life and days to specifically avoid sunlight, garlic, etc. She’s a very busy member of the school community and has tons of friends and connections. She and Maehara, her fellow vampire, constantly compete to see who can get more dates.

Yoshida: Werewolf

This is slightly cliche since he’s the resident bad boy, but it fits. He tries to keep a tough image even in human form partly since his family taught him to do so, and because it is comfortable for him. But he’s a softie deep down, and is nowhere near as ruthless as he’s believed to be.

Ritsu: Magic Mirror?

Hmm this is kind of the only option I see fitting for her as it correlates to her role in canon. One classmate has to carry the mirror around for her to communicate, but she’s very powerful and helpful.

Itona: Mummy

Ok so storyline here: he was abandoned to die by his family centuries ago, and his 13 body was mummified against his will. In present time, Shiro awakens him, revives him, and uses him as a tool. He goes through a lot...but is able to live a peaceful life with 3-E once all that is over. He wears bandages almost everywhere, only exposing his eyes which glow yellow when he’s using his power.

Bonus:

Gakushuu is a Demi-God, of course. He’s pretty annoyed that his elemental magic only extends to hydrokinesis and cryokinesis, but he’s still amazingly talented.

Ren is a Merman who flirts with girls at the beach with sappy poetry. He’s gotten caught in a fisher net too many times.

Seo is an Ogre.

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Dabi x (Ex)Hero Reader (8)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem Hero in training, Shinso x Reader (Platonic), Bakugou x Reader (Platonic), Bakugou x Todoroki

Summary: Why would I want to be hero when I can be happy. 

Words: +-3200

Warnings: Dating Dabi, anxiety, crying, depression, villain reader, mind control, Reader’s quirk is used for ‘evil’, feelings, slight gore, blood, swearing, violence, on the news, presenting, sneaking into UA, soft Bakugou, Slight TodoBaku, sad Bakugou, Sad Shinso, calling the boys by their first name. ANGST

Tags: @wnygirl2012​ @chaotic-neutral-logic-sass​ @immortalwolf18 @shigadabi-for-the-win​ @x-a-delama-x​ @star-witchs-blog​ @skeletonbun​ @axerrri​

A/N: First off I’m sorry. There is nothing wrong with being deaf or heard of hearing, it’s also ok to be a backstage coffee maker, it’s ok, I only put it in for the story. This is the final chapter, thank you for reading. If you want a feel for the first part of the chapter listen to “Blood Water” by Grandson.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 8 

The night had passed as I expected it too when I decided to unenroll from UA, my mood was done and after my crying and telling Dabi what I had done he had held me and then given a bath as I sat staring at a wall in sorrow. All I wanted was to be a hero, I spent so much of my life on a pointless dream. My phone had been thrown across the room later that night in an angered rage at all the phone calls, messages and emails I was receiving from teachers, peers and my parents. I didn’t care, once thrown Dabi had decided for me to turn the phone off and place it on the bench then said not to enter the kitchen and to ask him if I needed anything. I had started crying again later on into the night, I was brought into his arms. 

“You’ll always be a hero to me” he had whispered, why did his words make my mood lift? A villain of all people, no, he was my boyfriend. My loving and caring boyfriend, the one who had held me when the world turned its back, the one who believed in me. 

I didn’t sleep that night, wrapped in one of Dabi’s jumpers, I had moved to the balcony somewhere in the early rising of the sun. I felt numb, I felt empty. I tried so hard yet nothing I did was good enough. Since the second I got my license my career had gone down steadily. I walked back inside, rummaging through the bag I had brought with me. 

I pulled off the jumper being left in a lace bra, I pushed my arms into the mesh shirt, I looked deeper into the bag and the ripped jeans I loved so dear were then pulled up my legs. Socks and boots, a nice look I had to admit. I pulled the makeup from my bag and walked to the bathroom, I did the most amazing makeup I had ever done. Winged eyeliner to put professionals to shame. Putting the rest of my makeup on I looked at myself in the mirror seeing colours and beauty, strength. I smiled. Fingers gliding through my hair I walked out of the bathroom and saw Dabi still asleep on the bed. 

When making it to the door I saw his coat he wore whenever he went out with the league. Smirking I took it from the hoot and let it sit comfortably on my arms and shoulder, he wouldn’t mind. The door closed behind me as I walked down the hall and then out of the building door. I would show everyone who I was, who they so desperately wanted me to be. I moved to the middle of the street and began my walk, people looked at me and then looked at the cloak and phone were being taken out. Good, video me. You all wanted something to gossip about. 

Under fifteen minutes I was at my first destination, a beat began as I walked into the building “Miss, you are not allowed in here” a receptionist smiled and when I turned to look at the female her eyes widened “The siren girl” her eyes then slowly tracked down and went wide. I saw her hand move and then a glint of a phone. 

“We’ll never get free” I sang slowly and her phone was thrown across the room with a loud bang I walked forward going to the elevator “Lamb to the slaughter” I pressed the button and slowly rose to the top floor, the caster's room. The slight ding of the elevator rang and then guards were running “What you gon’ do” they fell clutching themselves in pain. I walked into the caster's room seeing the female shaking behind her desk “When there’s blood in the water” she slowly stood and walked forward as I smiled. I looked around and within a few beats, she had a camera in her hand. “The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter” I walked through the building and the camera was rolling live. “What you gon’ do” I smiled into the camera and left the building “When there’s blood in the water” 

Walking into the next building was a little harder with all the entrances blocked. “Look me in my eyes” they opened, I made my way to the top of the building once more but the castor was gone “Tell me everything’s not fine” Within a few clicks he was found in an abandoned room. “Or the people ain’t happy” a camera rolling in his hands. “And the river had run dry” someone tried running at me with a kitchen knife, “You thought you could go free” he pulled the knife up as everyone turned to watch and the camera continued to roll “But the system is done for” the knife now lay in the screaming man's hand dug into the wall “if you listen closely” I smiled walked past and out of the station, I could now see pro heroes outside “There’s a knock at your front” they had no idea how powerful I am, I would rule this stupid little city. They wanted me to be a villain so bad why not give them what they want. 

“We’ll never get free, lamb to the slaughter” I walked down and they all stilled, these weren’t heroes I knew well. Did they think I wasn’t worth the real heroes? “What you gon’ do, when there’s blood in the water” as I walked through the heroes they began to attack each other, I couldn’t be blamed, I was just singing, I was worthless, I was never going to become a hero. “The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter” I could see people pointed phones at me and within seconds those phones were thrown to the ground, doing anything they could to destroy their devices. “What you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water” one more stop, just one. 

Rounding the corner I could see heroes at the end of the street, in front of the final station. They thought they could beat me, of course, they did. I wasn’t strong, I was nothing. “Beg me for mercy” I watched as Aizawa walked forward and then his eyes were covered. He tried to pry off the unwanted hands. His quirk could ruin my plans. “Admit you were toxic” I looked up at the top floor seeing pros and police alike. The camera was still rolling. “You poisoned me just for another dollar in your pocket” I walked down the street head high and shoulders back. All the pros stopped some even falling to the floor. “Now I am the violence” I yelled out and with a wide smile and one camera facing me and the other the building I shouted, “I am the sickness, Won’t accept your silence” this caster wanted to talk so much why was he hiding. “Beg me for forgiveness” the windows of the building shattered, small pieces dancing from the sky onto the street below. Now he could hear me. 

I could feel his coat flapping in the wind, I felt empowered, I felt strong. This is who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be a hero, I wanted people to know my name. “We’ll never get the free lamb to the slaughter” I screamed loud and proud “What you gon’ do” doors were being unlocked “When there’s blood in the water” Pros were moving out of the way “The price of your greed” phones were being taken out of pockets “Is your son and your daughter” live streams opened camera facing the door “What you gon’ do” the door opened showing the man I wanted “When there’s blood in the water” he stepped out and the camera followed him, walking through the pros “When there’s blood in the water” the music continued as I smiled and his scarred face, I wanted him to remember this.

The Pros and police alike moved to form a ring around us I smiled and tilted my head letting his compulsion fade as he stood there shaking. “I am the people” the song started again and I walked forward “I am the storm” with a wide smile as he tried to scramble away “I am the riot” everything was rolling, the whole world would see me today, I would prove who I am “I am the swarm” my arms rose and he stood my head tilting. “When the last tree’s fallen” a nail ran down his cheek a tear following suit, the cameras zoomed in “The animal can’t hide” they treated me like this, this is what they wanted. “Money won’t solve it” nothing could help them now, I was in charge “What’s your alibi” I yelled, phones turned to the electronic news boards. I controlled this city.

‘I wanted to be a hero’ the words slid across the screen. ‘I am pathetic in the eyes of the news’ it continued. His eyes widened “I am a disgrace to the hero name” I watched another tear run down his face in fear. ‘I will never be a hero’ 

“What’s your alibi?” I screamed again, I still had a camera on me as more of his words and posts, videos were shown about me. The video of Shinso and I ‘he was my best friend, he laughed as well’ “What’s your alibi” I screamed for the final time.

‘I did just as you asked’ the printed words came up quickly and then slid off the screen ‘You didn’t want a hero, I became what you all wanted’ eyes went wide, people were starting to get it. More videos and posts, comments and theories. ‘Remember, this is what you wanted’ the cameras came back to me and the male. 

“I’m sorry” he stuttered out in fear, tears rolling down his face, he dropped to his knees kneeling on the ground “I didn’t mean it, you are so strong” he nodded frantically. People really would do anything to save their ass. “I was wrong, so wrong” he was. He was dead wrong. I looked down at him as he shook and stuttered over his words. 

“I wanted to be a hero” everything went silent though no one moved. “I worked my ass off to get where I was and you took that away from me” I laughed and shook my head shrugging “What can you do” I smiled again and sighed out, “You said you were going to ruin my career” I walked forward crouching down and moving the hair from his face before tightly gripping his chin “You just started a new one for me” his eyes widened “I’m going to be the most dangerous and well-known villain” my hand moved to dust off his shoulder “for you and the entire fucking world” I poked his chest. “And to start my new career, I’m going to ruin yours. Karmas’ a bitch” my hands rose next to his ears as he shook his head but couldn’t move. “I want a full coverage for this, wouldn’t you” I started twisting my hands slowly and a scream left his lips “You know nothing about sound waves” blood began to trickle from his ears slowly down his head “I don’t want to kill you, that’s too easy” I dropped my hands and he was looking around frantically. A noise left his mouth and with that, I slowly balled my hand into a fist and the noise stopped. “With no hearing and no voice, you can enjoy your new life as a backstage coffee maker” I stood up. 

Walking forward to the camera I smiled into the screen “Welcome back to channel whatever I hope you enjoyed this brand new top exciting story of the ex hero in training. I have a few questions to answer before this wraps up” I smiled and then began “Yes this is Dabi’s coat, I know it's shocking. She’s dating him, wow didn’t see that coming. No, she was not a spy for the League, she genuinely wanted to become a hero but as you can see that didn’t go to plan now did it ladies, gentleman, everything inside and out” I laughed lightly nodding “I hope to see 1-A become heroes, be the best you can be. Do it for me, the one who wasn’t allowed” my voice went dark but I let out a sigh “Anyway, this ends the show, hope you enjoyed this special of Radio Silence, the new top villain. Good afternoon” my hand went over the screen and all the cameras stopped rolling. 

~

Since that day my power and coverage have only grown. Dabi and I were the most wanted villains in the city. He did the dirty work and followed after my lead, he left the league and joined me in my new journey. We went after heroes abusing their power, strong civilians wreaking havoc just because they could. I was no longer seen as a disgrace, people followed me, people believed in me. New criminals would arise and seemingly die within a few days. I had destroyed my phone after my debut and left letters with two certain students in secret. I smiled at him as Bakugou and Todoroki caught me leaving his room through the window. 

“Y/N” Bakugou whispered, I didn’t even want to look at him, how could I. He had been taken by these people, they had taken him. What right did I have to even so much as look at him “Please” I swallowed thickly and turned looking at both of them? He looked at the letter. 

“You weren’t meant to be back for another twenty minutes. Your runs always last ninety-three minutes. You go and get a drink after” I whispered and Todoroki looked down and closed his mouth “I’m sorry” I whispered and as I was about to jump down I heard a sniffle. 

“We were meant to become heroes” Bakugou was crying, Todorokis’ eyes were wide and I was on the verge of letting all my regrets come flooding back “We were meant to start an agency and work together” I looked down and licked my dry lips. “I believe in you” I blinked trying to hold myself together. “Please don’t get caught” my eyes flashed to his, tears falling down his face and cheeks pink “Don’t get caught. Hurry up, go” I looked down and bit my lip and brought up my boot. I frantically pulled the laces off, had little music notes on them.

“Come here” I whispered and he walked forward. “Hand” his hand rose “To remind you of me I guess” I whispered and began to tie it around his arm “As soon as I leave feel free to destroy it, burn it, explode it. I don’t care but this is for you” I looked up and he was still crying “Become a hero Katsuki, become number 1” I finished trying the lace around his wrist and then hugged him tight and rough. “Todoroki, look after him for me. I’m counting on you” he bowed and I looked back to Bakugou “Goodbye” I fell from the window and I was gone. 

Bakugou was hard and now it was Shinso, how could I even look at him. I knocked on the window and his face rose with vigour, he was running over. The window flung open and then I was brought into his arms. I couldn’t stop the tears as I hugged him back. 

“I got into 1-A” I smiled and laughed at his revelation, he got my spot just as I asked. “It’s different without you. People turned on Bakugou and me” I looked down “Reporters begged for anything about you” he shook his head “If this is even half of what you had to deal with, I had no idea what you were going through” I sighed out and smiled. 

“I’m so happy Shinso” I shook my head and smiled “I am so happy with my life” he bit his lip and nodded as tears pricked his eyes. His arms were still on my waist. I wanted to stay here, like old times. Have a sleepover and watch bad movies and impersonate them. 

“I just want you to be happy” he whispered and I smiled. I moved and pressed the letter to his hand. “What’s this” how could I ever face him after all I’ve done. He had tried so hard to be in the hero course and one of his best friends is now the strongest villain. 

“It took me a long time to realise I wasn’t happy and what I wanted to say to you” I brought his wrist up and took out the shoelace smiling as I began to tie it “Sleepless nights and bursts of anger. I never wanted to hurt people Hitoshi, especially you and Katsuki” I shook my head and pursed my lips crying to hold back more tears. “I’m taking bad people off the streets. The streets are littered with hate and lies. Authorities don’t care unless a hero is involved” I swallowed “I’m trying to help, not in the best way but I am trying” I smiled and looked up to him finally finishing tying the shoelace. “I'm happy Hitoshi” I grabbed his face and smiled “I’ve never felt more free” 

He nodded and smiled “I know” I smiled and brought him into another hug. This was the last time I was going to talk to my best friends. This was the last time I would ever talk to them. The last time I would be in their presence without them coming after me. The last time we wouldn’t be hurt if they were seen with me. This was the end of our time, now it was their time. 

“Be a hero Hitoshi, for you” I smiled and moved back turning and moving to the window placing a foot out “Be the hero you want to be” I jumped from the window and I was off running through the school and climbing over the walls and making my way back to Dabi who had waited. 

“Are you ok?” he asked and brought me into his arms as I sighed and smiled with a nod. They were going to be the best heroes in the business. No one would cross them, they would make the world proud. 

“I’ve never been better” then we were off running through the city and screaming lyrics at the top of my lungs letting the whole city know who was awake and here to stay. Heroes chasing after me. Boots with no laces and a smile on my face as I ran from them. 

The next time I saw them, I saw their shoes. One with simple black laces and the other, the other had small music notes littering them as they fought the villains in the city. Together. 

“Dabi, I don’t think I want to be a hero anymore” I smiled placing my hands on my hips looking down at them, they were going to be heroes and I would be able to watch them. “I am happy” I turned to see my partner, smiled and moved to brush our lips together as the wind flowed around us.  -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fin~

[raidbossmadi]

PLU:Siren origins, a history

What are the Progenitors? 

As long as there has been a universe, there have been progenitors. They are the seeders of life, creators of planets, they are gods by every definition of the word. Though they are sentient they do not consider themselves gods nor could they tell you what compels them to create only that they do. 

The progenitors themselves are all varied in appearance; you would not think they were all one race. One thing that is consistent among them is their ability to survive in the void of space, they are so massive in their natural form that space is the only place which could truly contain them. They also inhabit the space between space, a dimension beyond that of our own. Whether their dimension and ours was created at the same time or if ours is merely a creation of theres is unknown. 

The Progenitors along with using their gift of creation to seed life are also capable of a more natural method of reproduction though, their offspring that were born into this dimension are considerably smaller than their parents, they are much more involved with the creation life than planets like their parents. For this they are often dubbed Demigods. Most races in the known universe can trace their origin back to a Progenitor Demigod. 

The Progenitors and The Eridians 

The Eridians are one of the universe's oldest races, created by a demigod known as The Weaver.  For millennia the Eridians have sought to understand the gods of this reality, but the Progenitors and their offspring remain a constant mystery.

Despite their ability to communicate the Progenitors do not wish to divulge their history nor the true nature of where they come from. The Eridians would not take that as an answer, what they could not understand, they sought to control.

They started with the substance now known as Eridium, they found it in large quantities on planets which the Progenitors had freshly made. They studied it and properties, they used it to create the magic their civilization would run on.

Then they used it in an act of betrayal.  

The Eridians had lost their first world to war, warring broods who disagreed on which Demigod they wanted to worship, there were many Eridian cults and while the Weaver was always the true creator some Broodmothers worshipped other demigods in the hopes their brood would take on an aspect. Always a demigod never a Progenitors, the Progenitors did not bless the Eridians the way their children did.

The more dominant brood used Eridium to open a pocket dimension of their own creation and sealed inside was their contesting hives Demigod. The first vault. This prison was created in such a way that Eridians could enter it, see the bound and restrained demigod, interact with it yet it could do nothing but watch.

Nekrotafeyo, first landing in their tongue, for it was not their first home. That had been destroyed in the Brood war but the winning brood mother, now the Hive Queen had crushed all opposition. Her first order was construction of the great machine, that which would be the gateway to all vaults, future and current.  

They would continue to build vaults to imprison the children of the gods and eventually the gods themselves. But they only moved for Progenitors when they realized the reason they would not answer the Eridians call was due to their devotion to a different race entirely.

The Progenitors and Humanity

The Progenitors have always regarded humanity with a fondness, though unlike their offspring they decided to take a decidedly more hands off approach to their observations. Especially since the creation of humanity coincided right with the start of the Eridian era of vaults and the Progenitors were less willing to come out of hiding.  They saw a spark in humanity though, the same spark that would eventually drive humanity to the stars and they admired it.

Throughout human history the Progenitors would lend small bits of their power to humanity,the people who received these powers would become the stuff of legends The Oracle of Delphi, Sorcerers, Witches, all the result of Progenitors reaching out to humanity or humanity unknowingly reaching out to them. These powers did not carry lineages though, because they were but the smallest part of a Progenitors power, a loan that would be repaid through death.

Humanity sought to answer where these powers came from but they did not have the means to understand nor grasp the true nature of the Progenitors, so instead they named them, interpreted them  in a way that made sense to a human mind.

Some of these names would stick, becoming the Progenitors preferred name to mortals as most of them were merely bastardizations of the true language they spoke.

 When humanity made it to the stars, the Eridians came to meet them. They picked up a broadcast from a human satellite and upon meeting humanity they were intrigued to find the touch of the Progenitors among them. This became the main reason the Eridians were so willing to ally with humanity in the hopes that they might understand the beings that stayed beyond their reach.

The Imprisonment of the Gods

Through their close relationship with humanity the Eridians were able to learn more about the true nature of the Progenitors and just how like their offspring they were. They had caged many Demigods in vaults in the ensuing years, leaving only one free, The Weaver. They kept it in a vault yes, but that vault was never sealed; it was free to leave if it so chose it.

They were able to lure the Progenitors out of the space between, they used humans as bait. Once they had them vulnerable they too were imprisoned inside the vaults. The cost of which being large deposits of Eridium and a human soul.

With most  of the Progenitors now imprisoned it was time to begin the Hive Queen’s great experiment.

Sirens : The Great Experiment

Eridians could not use the power of the Progenitors, even captured the Gods refused to give themselves to the Hive. This did not dissuade Eridian scientists though they had planned for this.

They reached out to their human allies and requested a group of female babies. Why female? There are no male eridians, they are all female drones, there comes a point in the life cycle of an Eridian that they become male to offer their genes to their Brood Mother but this is near the end of their lives. They have always assumed that the human male was the weaker of the two because of their societal concept of gender.

They took the babies, seven total was all humanity was willing to give under the vague instructions of their alien allies.  Seven was enough though for the Eridians only had seven captive progenitors.  They used eridium powered devices to steal the power from the captive gods and transfer it to the seven human children. This sent the Gods into a long sleep and to ensure they would not be able to retaliate if they did awaken, the eridians sealed their vaults shut and scattered the keys to far reaches of the universe.

The human children who now were conduits for the powers of these gods displayed an unmistakable tell, a blue swirling pattern  on one side of their body now known as the Siren marking.

The Eridians used Eridium again to tweak the inherited powers to work better with each other with the intent that the Sirens always would be a unit. Their powers meant to complement each other. They had chosen these seven Progenitors to be captured for a reason.

These Sirens were;

Hecate, Inheritor of the power of Hel. aspect of death, the great balance. (Phaseleech)  She was tasked with  the greatest burden keeping the sisterhood from turning on itself. 

Demeter, Inheritor of the power of Ithunn. Aspect of Life (Phasegrow) She was tasked with seeding planets with life, wherever she went life would follow. 

Artemis, Inheritor of the power of Syn. The aspect of order. (Phaselock) She was tasked with settling disputes of ideas, intended to be a neutral third party in conflicts that threatened life. 

Pyrrha, Inheritor of the power of Angerboda. The aspect of change. (Phasewalk). She was tasked with applying pressure to those who would not listen to reason as presented by Artemis. 

Bellona, Inheritor of the power Freya. The aspect of adaptation. (Phasegrasp). Tasked with rebuilding civilization after extreme conflict or disaster.

Eris, Inheritor of the power of Skadi. The aspect of Chaos (Phaseshift). Tasked with seeding conflict in those who would threaten the safety of inhabited space.

Nemesis, Inheritor of the power of Var. The aspect of Diplomacy (Phasetempt). Tasked with speaking for the sisterhood and making people accept the Sirens.

The Siren War  

In adulthood once Eridian caretakers left Vanagard in their rule the Sirens went on to fulfil their roles. However eventually a problem rose up. Nemesis was not happy with being the galactic police , if they were going to rule they should rule the way the Hive Queen rules the Eridians. She wanted absolute control and given her power to completely change the minds and memories of non-Sirens she set to work.

The sisterhood did not realize what was happening under their nose until it was too late. Several planets were entirely under Nemesis’ control.

Hecate had a plan however, after consulting with Artemis they decided there was only one thing that could be done. Hecate lured Nemesis to an empty vault and used her life force to seal it shut from the outside.

The sisterhood was frightened they had just lost two sisters in one fell swoop. However, it was not long before something began calling to them, singing the song they had crafted together. It called from beyond the planet and they followed it. Discovering a teenage girl, Nyriad, who now bore the markings of their sister and carried her memories. They understood now that they were linked to power inside them, that because the Progenitors were sealed away the power could not go back to them so instead it would go to new hosts, ones who embodied the virtue of the original bearer best.

[januarywren]

Hi if you don’t mind can I request a Snamione fic where he witness hermione’s mental breakdown upon knowing the death of her parents? Hehehe we are going angst today!

EEEEP, I’m really sorry - I’ve been feeling awful the past week, and I mixed up your prompt!! I thought that you wanted a sevmione scene about Hermione Obliviating her parents, not their death. 

The fic that I wrote is an Epilogue AU and takes place ten years after Voldemort’s death, but I’m sorry for the mix-up!! If I have time, I’ll write something that fits your prompt entirely. I’m posting the fic below, as well as linking it here! I appreciate you sending in a request, and I’m sorry again. 

-

“Hermione – “

It had been weeks of silence, with his lover hiding away in their rooms. There was more to the former golden girl of Gryffindor than anyone knew, and Severus watched, and he worried, as her cheeks grew pale and her words became fewer and fewer.

He felt the distance growing between them, even at night when he wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled close against his chest. Sleep was beyond them, yet they enjoyed the intimacy of it still – at least they had until she'd turned from him.

(Why? What had he done?)

“Trust me,” Severus ached to say. “Please, Hermione, let me in again.”

But he didn’t.

Couldn’t.

For underneath it all, Severus knew that he was a coward still, regardless of his duplicitous role at the Dark Lord’s side. The Ministry had given him a medal – a scrap of worthless tin – as if that could make his hands clean again.

He’d witnessed horrific things, things beyond anyone witch or wizard’s imagination, aside from Voldemort himself, and perhaps, Dumbledore. The later was hailed as the guiding mentor of the wizarding world, but above all others, Severus knew his true nature: Dumbledore willingly accepted what others would have cringed at, as long as it would aid his efforts during the war.

It was right, and it was wrong, and Severus –

He wanted little part of it.

His own Change was because of the Dark Lord after Voldemort explored the nature of vampires. Severus acted as his servant and was changed first – he'd burned in agony for days until his heart stilled, and he burned anew, his throat aching with thirst. He was a creature without morals, or limits, and had slaughtered as other Death Eaters had, and was privy to horrors that only those closest to the Dark Lord were allowed. There were so many innocents that suffered, regardless of their bloodline or their nature -

He never raised a finger to stop them, nor spared the unfortunate a single word, and he knew that he would burn for it –

Something that Hermione knew as well, for he’d wept in her arms, and confessed his sins to her. The world would never know the weight of his heart nor the true workings of his soul, but she alone would always know.

“Don’t.”

Severus flinched as his lover turned away from him, his heart thudding inside his chest. "It's over then?" he asked, forcing himself to swallow nausea that rose in his throat.

He’d always known he wasn’t good enough for Hermione, the same way he wasn’t good enough for Lily. (What had he told Hermione at the start of their relationship? “I’m less of a man than I am a creature, Hermione”? It was an understatement by far.)

And yet, Hermione had stayed by his side, freely and wholly of her own will. She’d accepted him when his nature became clear; his fangs grazing her wrist when he kissed her there, and his dark eyes had bored into hers. Her blood was ambrosia on his tongue, her nature as enthralling as a siren’s call.

And when they had reached the point of no return, she had done more than accept him –

She’d chosen him, as her Sire.

Her Mate.

They knew each other as no one else did, as they brewed countless potions together, in their little nest that was hidden from the world. They lived in muggle London, a place where they could live as they wished, and where no one noticed if a petty criminal or two went missing. (In fact, their formerly crime-ridden neighborhood was grateful for the dramatic reduction in crime, as stolen items were returned, and doors were left unlocked once more.)

He withdrew from her, as his familiar friend, anger, found him once again. “Have you realized what I am?” Severus asked, “A foul creature, a sniveling beast – “

It was easy to slip into his former skin, as the greasy-haired and embittered potions master. He knew what the students thought of him and remembered how the staff had avoided him. He reveled in their distance, as it fueled his bitterness; something he had ceased to feel in his life with Hermione. But he was weak then, and exposed, and wanted to hide away where she wouldn't see how he lived for her.

If she left him –

No, Severus thought grimly. When she left him, he would be the creature the world knew before, the one who snapped and snarled without remorse. He wasn’t meant to have others near, he was his father’s heir.

“Stop it,” Hermione said, closing the space between them.

“Why should I, Ms. Granger – “Severus sneered, stilling as her hand rose to cup his cheek.

"Severus," Hermione said as if his name meant something to her still. "This – this isn't about you, or us. I'm not," she hesitated, searching for the right words to say. "I know that I haven't been myself lately. I…”

“You haven’t,” Severus croaked, his tangled feelings exposed. He felt as anxiety entwined with his simmering anger, and his hand covered hers. “Please Hermione, let me in.”

“I did something a decade ago,” Hermione whispered, “something during the war that I cannot let go of. It…it happened next month, and I – I can’t stop thinking of it.”

Severus’s brow furrowed, as he rested his temple against hers. “You were a child during the war,” he said, his tone as gentle as his words were overused. “Dumbledore used you as a soldier – whatever you did is not yours to blame yourself for.”

“But it is,” Hermione replied, with a sad, little smile. “I wanted to keep my parents safe, and I…I took their lives away from them, Severus. I Obliviated them and sent them away to Australia, where they would be safe.”

He kissed away the tears that slid down her cheeks, as shame pooled through his veins. It was his nature to interpret his mate’s hurt as because of him, with his father’s words ringing in his ears – feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing always seemed just below the surface, as if he were a child still.

He wanted to be better for her.

He had to be.

She hadn’t made the decision for him to change her lightly, no, and it was entirely her decision alone. The cursed knife that Bellatrix had used to carve the horrid word into her skin was slowly killing her, the dark magic imbued within her wound leeching her very life from her. Hermione told him she wasn’t afraid to die, after cure after cure had resulted in little change.

Nor had Hermione proposed it at first, after Severus confessed his love for her. She asked for nothing from him but stayed at his side, faithfully stirring his potions, and spending her nights awake with him, even before he changed her. They kept the world at bay outside their door, and wanted nothing but privacy, above all.

She wrote letters frequently to Harry and his wife, as well as his godson, Draco Malfoy who sought redemption after the war and he apologized for his treatment of her. She wrote letters too, to George Weasley who mourned for the loss of his twin, and she wrote to Ron, who struggled to find his stride as an Auror still. Hermione had a longing for the outside world that Severus lacked, though he never sought to prevent her from having friendships.

Yet it was Severus who held her during the Change, allowing her to weep in his arms, as she writhed, and she burned. It was an experience that bonded them closer to one another, the fury of the Change driving the Dark Magic from her soul. It fled her body, but Severus never left her, nor did he want to.

“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered, before kissing the tip of her nose. “So very sorry, Hermione.”

She had always taken comfort in his voice, and like a purring cat, rubbed her cheek against his. “I can’t help but think they are safe but not whole,” Hermione confessed, “Or maybe it’s too painful to think of them as being happy and whole, without remembering me at all – “

His arms circled around her waist, as he pulled her flush against him. “I understand,” Severus said, having once felt the same about Lily, as she burned with life when she was married to James Potter. Yet his feelings for Lily were nothing like how he felt towards Hermione, the only soul to ever accept him wholly, and unflinchingly.

He never would regret the rainy night that he'd come across her, when she'd sat alone at a train station, with her beaded purse in her arms. She'd broken up with Ron and fled from the wizarding world – straight into his arms after they left the train station to eat at his favorite curry place instead. The dull flavor of human food had seemed spicy and danced across his tongue when he sat across from her, and they had simply never parted afterward.

Nor would they if Severus had his wish, and Hermione truly wanted to stay.

“I miss them,” Hermione murmured, “Every night and every day, even though I never forget that I’m the one to blame. I chose to send them away, without a memory of the child they had, or…or anything of their former lives. Their true lives,” her voice cracked at that, and she moved to bury her head against his shoulder. “I don’t have a right to feel this way.”

“You do,” Severus said, his hands resting on the small of her back.

She was a mess of contradictions; her small frame holding a soul that was far stronger, and bolder than his own. He wanted to curse himself for leaving her to the wolves during the war, though they weren’t lovers, nor friends then. His focus then was consumed with thoughts of Lily and twisted bitterness about protecting her son.

“Merlin, Hermione, you did the only thing that you could. The Dark Lord would have never allowed your parents to live. The things that he did to muggles – the things that I did to them – “ he dragged a ragged breath in.

He wanted her closer still as if he could hold on to her, so she never let go of him.

“You saved them, my love,” Severus said softly, though they were the only ones in their room. There would never be another between them, nor a child born from her womb, as their kind was unchanging.

There was only the low purr of her familiar, Crookshanks, who chose then to wind about their legs and rub his face against Severus' foot. With a little blood magic, he would live out his immortal days with them. "My love, my life - believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He wouldn’t.  

“Promise?” Hermione asked, quieter than he’d ever heard her.

He prayed that she would believe him, as truth dripped from his words. No one would have helped his mate and her parents, not even him. Dumbledore had cared only for Harry, zealously arranging his pawns so his king was protected, and at the forefront of the chessboard. Harry was the one that mattered – Harry was the only one that truly mattered and was needed in the war against Voldemort.

“I swear it,” Severus whispered. "I'll take a Vow if you wish."

He wanted to free her from her pain, her guilt, even as he knew that it couldn't be undone. It was an ache inside of her soul that wouldn't leave her, yet he wanted to try as he never had for any other. Offers rose to his tongue, ones of finding a reversal to the spell, and finding her parents once again.

Severus held his tongue still, knowing that wasn’t what his mate needed, not then. Later, perhaps, when her tears had dried and she nestled close to him, and she knew that he would listen to all that she wanted to share.

She pressed closer against him and grasped the fabric of his robes with her hand. “I wish that I didn’t remember,” Hermione confessed, “over and over again. I see their eyes glaze over and I…I just can’t – I want to forget but I never want to let them go.”

It was all that she could give him then, the wound too raw, and exposed as it was. (Yet she didn't turn her heart away, no – it turned toward him, as she sought the comfort of his hold and the honesty of his soul.)

“I know, sweetheart,” Severus said, knowing more than most how she felt. There were memories that haunted him once, a tangle of faces and a mesh of names that were engraved across his skin. “I know.”

They held each other close, saying nothing then.

[def-initely-soul]

Burn The Witch {2}

pairing:  yoongi x reader (f.)

genre: supernatural; angst; mystery; magical society AU; magicals!AU

rating: PG-15

warnings: violence; emotional abuse; blood; bullying; mentions of murder; mature language

words: 5.5k

summary:

↠ {a boy who keeps running away, a girl who can’t seem to no matter how much she tries and a series of murders caught all in between of the cracks spread through what appears as a quiet little town…} ↞

or alternatively, not everything is always what it seems

previous part: {1}

.

.

Your alarm clock rings, successfully waking you up from your peaceful slumber.

With a loud grunt, you force yourself to sit up, covers shuffling in the process as you rub the tiredness off your eyes, causing your familiar to stir awake.

The corsac fox, Alistair, slowly uncurls himself on top of your bed, his grey-white fur shining under the morning light as he looks at you with a slightly annoyed stare.

You get out of bed, giving him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Ali, didn’t mean to wake you…” you explain, moving to scratch his ears and you realize his mind must still be in a state of sleep as you fail to hear his characteristic voice in your head and instead you’re met with an appreciative hum.

“Go back to sleep…” you murmur as you move towards the hall.

Your feet feel cold as they make contact with the bare wooden floors of your house. They echo in direct contrast with the usual silence that hangs in the air, the only thing filling this otherwise empty home.

You’ve been living alone for almost 11 years now and still, you can’t get used to the hollowness draping the walls and furniture.

This house used to be filled with life once upon a time. Friends, family, your parents. It used to be a “home”. Now it’s just a place standing like a ghost in the ruins of what used to be.

Not feeling in any particular mood to look through your clothes before going to work, you close your eyes and whisper a summoning spell. Instantly you feel your night attire being replaced by some jeans and a black T-shirt. You don’t bother looking yourself in the mirror, instead moving to the kitchen to grab a quick bite before heading off.

This is your daily life. Aside from uni on weekdays. But since today is Sunday, you only have to go to work at Selkie’s Place as a waitress.

It’s mostly a lonely life, you admit. Just one friend who spends most of his time reading, so not exactly a friend. Only school, work, home, and repeat. It’s been like this for a while. Since you were twelve to be exact.

You shake your head as you munch into your cereal. It’d do you no good to think about that now. Plus the anniversary is getting closer. You’ll have time to be miserable then.

To be honest, you only got to work after you became nineteen. Actually, no one sane in this town would hire you, given your history and reputation. You don’t blame them though. You probably wouldn’t want someone that only brings misfortune to their peers in your business either. Half the town believes you’d set those fires. Which you didn’t. And the other half believes you were simply cursed.

For that, you’re not so sure. Maybe you are.

Anyways, it’s best for everyone to keep their distance. You’re fine either way. It’s safer for everyone.

Except for Mona, that is. She wouldn’t keep her distance even if you hexed her.

Mona, the owner of Selkie’s Place and your boss, used to be friends with your parents before the incident. She and your mother, Beatrice, were best friends since school and when you were born Mona became sort of your godmother. You’ve grown up with her and when you lost everything she was there to pick up the pieces and take care of you, in place of your parents.

At first, she wanted you to move in with her, but you were not ready to leave this house. It still holds so many memories of a carefree childhood, of your family, of times that you used to be happy. You were not ready to say goodbye to that yet.

So instead, she moved in with you for a few years, but having a pub to run and a child to take care of didn’t exactly go together. So when you turned eighteen and she found you mature enough to take care of yourself living in a house on your own, she moved back into her place, even though she still tried to come by as often as she could.

You’re not complaining though. Mona really did try her best to take care of you and raise you as your parents would’ve wanted. But a shapeshifter can’t be too much of a help for a young witch.

When you became nineteen you begged her to let you work at her pub. You felt indebted to her for accepting her help all those years and wanted to pay her back in some way. Though she was furious when you suggested working as a volunteer, as a token of appreciation. So instead she let you work for her, but like everyone else. That meant you were growing up suddenly, deciding it was time to take care of yourself on your own for real this time, so Mona’s frequent visits came to an end.

Now, she only stops by once a week, to check on you over a warm cup of coffee.

You break your reverie when it’s time to leave for work. Whispering another summoning spell, suddenly your teeth are brushed, breath as fresh as ever, and hair combed thoroughly. You grab your satchel bag and with a snap of your fingers, you disappear.

.

.

You reappear a block away from the pub, blowing some hair out of your eyes as you begin walking. You refrain from teleporting straight into the pub as Mona has already reprimanded you one-too-many times about it. Apparently, it creeps some people out.

If only they knew that’s one of the few basic spells you know. Every witch’s rite of passage includes the finding of a mentor at the age of 12, to help the young witch grow into their individual powers and unfold their potential. But since you weren’t even twelve when the accident happened. You never found out what your power is and there was no way for you to get a mentor. Not in a town where you’re the only witch left.

But you manage. You don’t mind the gossip, the talking, the stares, and the harsh words. You don’t care for the suspicious glances some of your coworkers still give you or the sneers from the students from the academy.

Because you have a plan. All you care about is going through college and getting your diploma as a potion master so you can get out of this hellhole. To go somewhere else, somewhere where no one knows you, no one cowers at the sight of you, no one bothers you and just let you be.

Your next step brings Selkie’s Place into sight.

You sigh, letting air flow into your lungs as you let a mechanical smile take over your lips.

One day closer.

.

.

Most of your shift goes by smoothly. There is, of course, the weird glances from some of your coworkers, magicals that believe the rumors or humans simply because you’re a witch. But really you can’t get rid of those glances and after some point, you don’t mind them at all. So it’s another usual day.

Until a certain group of sirens walks in.

You can hear their loud, piercing laughter all the way to the storage room, the sound annoying, ringing through your eardrum.

And yet they say witches cackle.

You fix your apron before entering the dining space and approaching their table. Hoping their group is incomplete.

But as you get closer and their voices become clear and distinct instead of the crumbled mess of sounds, you know your hopes were in vain.

“Welcome to Selkie’s Place”. What can I get you for the evening?” your voice comes out almost robotically as you take out your notepad, already mentally preparing yourself for what is about to come.

And as you rest your eyes on the group, currently shooting daggers out of their eyes, you do your best to avoid looking at the girl in the middle.

But, alas, the girl groans theatrically with a smirk gracing her lips as if it’s her favorite jewelry.

“Ugh, you can get us a new waitress ‘cause there’s no way in seven seas I’d let someone like you serve me.”

You press your lips tightly together, fist clenching the notepad between your fingers in an attempt to not talk back to her.

“Even if that’s the only thing you’re good at,” Sunmi gives her final blow with a triumphant, overly saccharine smile as her friends giggle and agree.

You swallow down the words you actually want to throw to her face before another mechanical smile appears. “Of course. They’ll be with you shortly,” you answer before walking away towards Lisa, the other waitress that usually works the same shift as you. But not before getting to witness Sunmi’s less than satisfied look in her failure to get a reaction out of you.

The siren girl has been your own personal tormentor ever since the accident. Or more particularly ever since her species lost their status and privilege because of it. Which she inevitably sees as your fault.

And she doesn’t fail to show that through various methods. Water-filled lockers, seaweed covering your books and gymnastics uniform, broken seashells on your seat, “accidental” tripping due to a pond of seawater that came out of nowhere, resulting in broken bones you had to heal more than once. And of course the mildest of interactions, the verbal attacks.

Which some times hurt more than practical pranks.

.

.

The sky is grey, looking ominous and moody as you make your way through the academy grounds the next day. To be fair though the weather has been like this since forever. You don’t remember a time when the sky was blue.

You suppose it matches you in some way.

Going through the great hall used to frighten you some time ago. Walking through crowds of students that practically hate you, all alone like a moving target? Yeah, the experience was bound to be nerve-wracking.

But you’ve grown used to it by now. Every single loathing glance that used to send shivers down your spine has nothing on you now. You’ve grown numb to them, indifferently making your way down to the dining hall.

The founders of the academy first built it not only as an educational institute but as a safe haven for magicals all around the world that were hunted, disowned or simply had nowhere else to go. So aside from the learning premises, there are also sleeping quarters, the kitchen and of course the dining hall.

But as years passed and the need for magicals to hide from humans slowly dissipated, the dorms emptied out as they were no longer needed. But the kitchen and dining hall are still functioning.

You step into the enormous dining area, eyes already finding your designated spot, just beneath the stained-glass windows. Thankfully no one seems to occupy it, not that they would though since it’s your spot we’re talking about.

Anything to avoid the witch.

Your boots boom against the wooden floors as you reach your table, sitting down with a huff. Your hands are already at your notes, opening the notebook to quickly go through them before your Advanced Potions class.

“And of course, she puts aside breakfast for the sake of her studies,” a familiar voice says, its tone kind and gentle as its owner sits down across from you, holding a tray with two bagels and two cups of steaming coffee.

Your eyes rest on the tall, blond elf boy and you smile thankfully.

“I can’t waste time on breakfast if you recall…” you joke and Namjoon smiles, his dimples appearing before placing the tray between the two of you.

Namjoon is the only person in the academy that actually talks to you like a normal person would. He’s never been prejudiced towards you, not since you shared your chocolate bar with him one day in high school when he simply forgot to pack lunch. Although his parents wouldn’t be exactly thrilled with the idea if they knew. But as he once said, “what they don’t know, won’t hurt them.”

And, of course, he helps a bit with classes as well.

To put it lightly Namjoon is a genius. You’d think being born an elf, into an extremely wealthy and respected family and incredibly handsome would be enough but no. To top all that, he’s also a prodigy. AND one of the kindest people you’ve ever met.

Which usually results in him lecturing you about your lack of self-preservation instinct.

“Eat,” he says sharply as he points at the bagel closest to you.

You sigh. “This conversation is taking too much of my study time…” you complain lightly and Namjoon just smiles.

“And it would’ve been avoided altogether if you just ate,” he replies with a winning smirk and you huff in fake annoyance as a smile threatens to spill all over your lips. If you’re honest you really enjoy it when he’s being this caring with you.

“Fine…” you mutter begrudgingly, “but I’m not letting you pay for them like last time!” you open your bag to pay him back.

“Whoever said I paid for them?” he mumbles behind the rim of his paper cup.

You turn to him with wide eyes, before. “Kim Namjoon did you flirt with the lunch lady again?” your voice incredulous even though really it’s been already more than twice that Namjoon charmed his way out of paying for breakfast.

He simply giggles, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t help it if I’m just this incredibly charming,” he winks at you and you almost double in laughter, before grasping your cup.

“If only she knew you were gay…” you mumble above the steaming beverage before taking a sip and an appreciative moan rolls off your tongue.

“Oh, she knows, I’m thinking she wants to set me up with her nephew.”

You almost spit out your coffee.

.

.

You leave Namjoon outside of his Runes class feeling a little lighter before you make your way down the hall and onto the next floor for your class.

A group of shapeshifters walks down the stairs as you ascend them, books on your hands, trying to fish out your phone from wherever you’ve thrown it into earlier in the day.

You ignore their voices, as you usually do, knowing it’s the safest way to go by unnoticed.

Although, sometimes even this doesn’t work.

An “accidental” hand pushes you to the side, not enough to have you tumbling over your feet, but enough to make you lose your grip on the books and for them to spill all over the stairs and reach the floor beneath.

Giggles reach your ears as a mocking “oops” echoes through the corridor, before the group disappears around the corner, the sound of laughter trailing after them, leaving you once more alone.

Your eyes remain glued to the floor and a slight tremble takes over your body as you stand still in the same position as before when the sound of thunder rings like a whip across the sky.

You close your eyes, willing the trembling to subside, forcing the raging thoughts in your mind to disappear before you do something you’re gonna regret.

You’re only aware of your clenched fists when you relax your fingers and inevitably crouch down to pick up your books. There are worse things that could happen, you try to remind yourself. At least it wasn’t you falling all over the stairs.

The incident though managed to put a dump on your previously cheerful mood and you gather your stuff with a frown, trying to keep yourself together.

Footsteps reverberate through the corridor as another student walks down the stairs while you pick up the last of your stuff. You stand up, deciding to wait for whoever it is to leave first before you attempt to go up again.

But when your eyes rest on the vampire girl who stares at you from the middle of the stairs, your heart clenches unpleasantly and you can’t help but stare back.

Chungha’s stare is indecipherable as she just stands there, eyes on you, her frame frozen as she most likely realized why you were currently picking up on your books.

You gulp anxiously. Before taking your eyes off her, putting on the most indifferent face you can manage and walking up the stairs, “playing safe by letting her walk down first” long forgotten.

So you walk up to your next class, leaving the vampire girl behind with a heavy heart.

.

.

At the end of your classes, you’re already tired for the next month, you can’t wait to go home and rest for a couple of hours before you have to leave for work again.

On your way to the front gate, though, another pair of students pass by you, bumping into you and your books once more spreading across the floor. This time you can’t contain the tired sigh that escapes you, as you crouch down to pick them up.

But then something unexpected happens.

A person, who surprisingly isn’t Namjoon, crouches down to help you.

The gesture is so unprecedented, you don’t even register what they say to you, and instead, you freeze and stare at the person with wide, baffled eyes.

The unknown boy across from you gathers your stuff calmly, not at all bothered or disgusted at your sight, his black hair falling in front of his eyes, framing his pale face, giving him an otherworldly aura, one that makes him seem almost as if he’s a figment of your imagination.

If you weren’t shocked by him helping you, you’d certainly be by how handsome he looks.

Once he realizes you’re frozen on your spot, he also stops and raises his eyes at you, and for some reason, his expression matches yours. 

Is this a prank? Will someone appear with a bucket full of pig blood while someone captures the entire thing on their phones?

Your eyes move quickly to distinguish any possible threat only to see Jimin, the fae boy behind the handsome stranger. Looking at you like you just killed someone.

Your eyes widen, suddenly terrified this might be a prank, fear immediately taking over your bones, even though you know Jimin would never do something like that, no matter how much he’s afraid of you.

The other boy must have sensed this because he starts talking.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

But once his voice reaches your ears, you feel like being woken up from a spell, reminding you of where you are.

Of your place.

You grab your books from the black-haired boy’s hands before you make a run for it.

Eyes glued to the floor as you walk away towards the gates, already trying to forget the way the boy’s eyes bore into yours.

.

.

You try not to dwell too much on the events of the day as you try to survive your way through your shift, although you can’t help but catch glimpses of a conversation between some of your clients, commenting on the new vampire boy that Jimin has seemingly taken under his wing.

But as you said, you don’t let yourself think too much about it.

When another one of your assigned tables gets taken by a group of students, you make your way towards them.

As you stand before their table, pad and pen ready on your fingers, your voice already carries out the rehearsed words.

“Welcome to Selkie’s Place. What can I get you for the evening?” you raise your eyes to the group.

Instead of their orders, you’re met with side glances and uncomfortable fidgeting.

You sigh.

.

.

Thank god Lisa is a relatively rational person and is willing to help you out every time someone asks for a different waitress.

It happens more often than you’d think.

Not often enough to see a significant drop in Mona’s income but still.

So, in return for Lisa taking one of your tables, you’ll have to look out for a table at her side.

And not long after that, another group of three steps into the pub, heading for a table at Lisa’s side. Once you see Sua as one of the people in the group you turn around to let Lisa know you’ll take this and she nods appreciatively.

As you make your way towards them you try to figure out who you’ll be serving. You see Sua talking animatedly to Jimin but you couldn’t make out the face of the third person.

But at least you know they’re not gonna ask for a different waitress. It’s one of the reasons you let Lisa know you’ll serve them; Sua never has asked for a different waitress. She never seems to have a problem with you and well, Jimin might be afraid of you but she never let him ask for someone else. You just hope the earlier incident today didn’t affect Jimin this much that he wants a different waitress regardless of what Sua says.

As for the third person you just hope Sua has the same effect on them too.

She orders first, then letting Jimin order before you turn to the third person.

Who is currently hiding behind the menu.

Sua’s polite smile falters for a second. She smiles again apologetically at you before turning to Jimin. “Isn’t he gonna order?”

You smile back knowingly. Maybe Sua’s words won’t be enough this time and you’ll have to change tables with Lisa. Again.

Jimin completely avoids your eyes, mumbling a weak “sorry” to Sua before turning to the boy in question. You don’t let that bother you though so you turn your focus to the guy behind the appetizers.

“Uh, Yoongi? The waitress is here…”

Yoongi? Weird, you don’t know anyone with that name.

A headless voice coming from behind the menu clears their throat. “Ugh, I’m fine…” the person mumbles, still holding the piece of paper firmly in place.

Sua chuckles uncomfortably before leaning closer to that Yoongi guy, as you remain in your spot, unsure of what to do.

“Come on, you’ve been out all day. Sure even you would be hungry or at least thirsty!” she insists and you suppress a chuckle at the unwilling grunt coming from behind the menu.

But it seems the words of the fae girl finally take action and the man brings down the menu at last, as you ready yourself to take down his order.

Although as the impromptu partition disappears and the man looks at you with apologetic eyes, a hand rubbing awkwardly at the base of his neck, you admit you’re not at all prepared.

It’s the guy who tried to help you earlier today. The black-haired boy whose eyes you tried to forget.

“Um, I’ll have just a pint of whatever stout you have…” he mutters with a low and yet polite voice and you’re left to stare at him for a moment too long before realizing what he said.

Your eyes widen before you drop them to your pad to write his order down.

“Uh, yes… Sure, uh… I’ll, I’ll be with you shortly, thank you!” you stutter, cheeks reddening, already mentally berating yourself, before moving away.

Trust you to make yourself look like an idiot.

.

.

After serving them their order while trying your best to avoid the boy’s eyes on your face unsuccessfully, you take your spot on one of the vacant seats on the bar next to the cash register.

Mona is currently behind it, making sure everything is in order. You’ve decided to keep her some company now that things are a bit slow.

“So how’s today going?” she asks as she counts some of the bills.

You shrug nonchalantly. “Eh, same old, same old. People looking at me weird. Asking for a different waitress. Nothing I haven’t handled before…” you joke with a dismissive wave of your hand.

Mona though stops to look at you or more precisely scold you. “Haven’t we talked about this already? Whenever something like that happens, just let me handle it!”

An involuntary sigh escapes you at her stubbornness. “And I told you no because you’ll most likely throw them out.”

She gasps, faking offense. “When have I ever? I’ll just have a nice little conversation!”

You smile at that. “Which will result in you throwing them out.”

She smirks. “Maybe.”

That makes your smile fall, though. Sometimes it feels as if she’s the child and you're the responsible adult in your relationship. “Mona, come on, just think this through. You can’t lose customers because of me!” your voice turning serious, hoping at least now she’ll listen to the voice of reason.

“Well, if they’re being douchebags maybe I don’t want them as my customers!” she retaliates and you fondly shake your head. It’s one of those times you know she’s not gonna listen to you, no matter how much sense you’re making.

“Anyways, I can handle it myself very well.”

Another ding is heard across the pub, signaling the entering of another customer and you turn around, ready to go if they need you.

Only to see Chungha walking in.

You freeze in your seat (damn your natural instinct of fight or flight for not existing), hand stuck in your apron where it reached for your pad. Eyes glued to the vampire girl’s form as she moves across the room to find her company.

Only to sit down at the table where Sua, Jimin and that boy Yoongi are seated.

A soft curse leaves your lips before turning around and taking a deep breath.

Fuck, you should’ve known she’d sit there. She and Sua are practically inseparable now.

Mona, having watched the scene, looks at you with sympathy hiding in her eyes. “I can call Lisa if you want…”

Honestly, that sounds idyllic right now. You’d rather go talk to Sunmi than walk back to this table.

You take another breath, before fixing your hair and clothes and putting on a brave smile on your lips, one that doesn’t certainly doesn’t reflect your inner feelings. “No, I’ll go, it’s fine!”

Mona doesn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure?”

But in her defense, neither are you.

“Yeap!” you say instead with an extremely cheerful voice before departing for their table.

You try to subdue the shaking in your hands and to keep your fake smile from falling as you near the group as well.

The group seems deeply immersed in their conversation, Sua and Chungha laughing at something Jimin said as Yoongi takes a sip of his beer.

Though everyone’s eyes are focusing on you when you stand in front of them.

“Was everything to your satisfaction?” you ask politely, hands hanging awkwardly at your sides as you struggle to make eye-contact with the newcomer, without appearing totally hung up on your shared past.

You see, once upon a time, when your life was much simpler and happier, you and Chungha used to be friends.

And not just any kind of friends. The best kind. Stuck together from the first day of daycare, all through middle school, as if you were both born to be in each other’s lives. Less than sisters but so much more than just friends. It was perfect.

Until the accident happened. And then it wasn’t anymore.

Sua’s answer interrupts your short-lived reverie. “Oh, yes, everything is completely perfect!”

Jimin simply smiles at her, the gesture small yet endearing, given he’s also casting you side-glances. Chungha looks at Sua as well, successfully ignoring your presence as if you’re nothing but a fly.

But that isn’t exactly right. A fly would get more attention than this, it could probably fly away or maybe someone would smash it with a newspaper or something. 

Which both sound much better than what you’re currently going through.

Then you hear a small chuckle in response to Sua’s words, so quiet you almost missed it, coming from the boy next to Jimin. You cast a curious glance towards him, seeing him take another sip of his beer. The hints of a smile hanging from his lips.

But then his eyes are on you again, so you refocus on Sua’s voice.

“And also could we get a glass of - what was it that you liked, AB negative?” She turns her attention to Chungha midway through her sentence and you try to not let your eyes widen at the sudden request.

Chungha’s eyes fidget nervously. “Sua…” she complains stiffly.

It’s not uncommon for vampires - or werewolves, or sirens - to ask for a glass of blood to quench their thirst. But usually, you serve such beverages in a secluded area for magicals only, to save humans from a possible freak out at the sight of them.

You’re sure Mona doesn’t really mind but the request itself is kind of a taboo.

“What? I thought you were starving! I’m just looking out for you!” Sua reiterates, eyes wide as if not seeing the problem in such a demand.

But due to that, Chungha turns to look at you for the first time tonight. Her stare on you makes you feel queasy, especially when her entire focus is on you.

Your palms are sweating, fantastic.

“I’ll have an apple cider and some mashed potatoes, thank you,” she announces calmly before her eyes return to her phone.

And here you are, silently panicking over her and she seems perfectly fine. As she always seems to be whenever she’s around you. Like all those years meant nothing. God it’s been more than ten years already, why are you still so hung up on her?

You take another breath before you jot that down.

You clear your throat. “Great. I’ll be right back.”

This time your voice is steady as a rock, and yet somehow you feel worse than before.

And as you walk away, you miss the way Yoongi’s eyes curiously follow your figure.

.

.

After that interaction that you’re better off not remembering, the rest of the evening goes by uneventful.

Well, if you forget almost scaring Jimin to death when you just tried to help him.

It wasn’t your fault though! You just happened to see him forget his jacket at the coat rack outside the men’s bathroom and simply run after him to give it back.

Only he couldn’t hear you calling him so when you jumped right in front of him to stop him, he was scared shitless.

Which would’ve been okay, if it wasn’t for you. Because, really, these things could happen to anyone. It was the way the fear re-entered his eyes once he realized who was returning his jacket. Like he would’ve been completely okay to be accidentally scared out of his wits from someone returning his jacket, unless that someone was you.

You swear he took a step back, almost unwilling to take his jacket back as if he was afraid you might’ve hexed it in the short span it took you to reach him.

And it hurts. It hurts seeing one of the most liked, most kind people of this town being fucking repulsed by you. You admit there are times when you think you and Jimin would’ve been great friends. But life never works out the way you want it too. How can you hurt over the loss of something you’ve never had?

And as if the day wasn’t awful enough, bad news reaches the pub when you’re about to take your break.

The dining space is full of life when a demon guy, Baekhyun, storms into the building, eyes wide, breathing heavily. Did he run on his way here?

At once all the conversations seize, eyes drawn at the boy standing in the middle of the floor. Baekhyun has the reputation of the Xuma’s gossiper. He’s sure to know first about any hot gossip so it doesn’t strike you as odd that everyone stopped whatever they were doing in favor of listening to another one of the demon’s rumors.

But as his eyes stare nowhere in particular as if he was still trying himself to come to terms with what he must have heard, the hair on your arm raises. Getting this terrifying feeling of dread right down to the pit of your stomach.

He swallows once. Then-

“The First Fae Kims are dead.”

The atmosphere is stiflingly quiet.

A few soft gasps echo through the room but aside from that, there’s no other sound daring to break the insufferable silence.

The Kims are dead? They’re the first family of Fae in this town. The most prestigious clan among your peers they’re suddenly dead.

And then the onslaught of questions begins.

“What? When?”

“You’re joking right?”

“All of them, what the fuck?”

“How is that even possible?”

“This isn’t funny Byun!”

You know their youngest daughter Solar, she’s in the same charms class as you.

Then another question pierces through the voices, loud and clear.

“How?”

And once again, everyone stops talking in favor of focusing on whatever Baekhyun’s answer is gonna be.

And for some reason his eyes find you. You can’t decipher his stare and it gives you a great deal of confusion as to why he’s staring at you.

“Fire.”

Oh.

Oh.

And now it’s not just him staring.

next part: {3}

[spicywarl0ck]

I’m late with today's prompt, but here it is for Au-gust Day 3: Soulmates.

Prompts are from @augustwritingchallenge​

Beware that this is a sad one though.

Deep within the endless waters of the waking sea, stood a statue of two lovers. Buried and long forgotten in the remains of a fallen city. No one remembered them and no one was brave to dive deep enough to find what was hidden underneath the blue and endless surface.

Though some say that there is a song that can be heard on the shore in a moonlit night.  A song that is carried over the waves and that sounds so sad, yet beautiful that most people cannot bear to listen to it, for a long time. Since the story that is held within the song, is one that is indeed a heartbreaking one.

There had been a siren once. She was said to be beautiful with her copper hair, eyes as deep blue as the ocean itself and a tail as golden as the glistening sun when it met the surface of the water.

The depths of the waking sea were her home and yet, she craved for more. No matter how often she visited the golden palaces that resided underneath the surface, far from any mortal eye and well protected, she couldn’t find the happiness she sought. Because she knew that her happiness would come with a terrible price. 

Ashalle was different from the other sirens, cursed at birth and yet, longing and craving for something that she could never have:  A soulmate. She often found herself sitting at the shore and singing with all the sadness that was hidden within her heart.

And she did so each time during a full moon, finding beauty in the way that the sand was painted in a beautiful silver that glistened in the moonlight. It gave her joy, even if it was just for a moment that did not linger long enough to fill her heart.

And when the dawn came, she was quick to dive back into the depth from where she came.

A wolf was who heard that sad, but beautiful voice that echoed trough the woods that were near the shore. It was an intelligent, but lonely being that lived in a cave- far from anyone else.  But even though the wolf lived alone, he craved for someone that he could feel connected to. Someone to share his wisdom and life with. Yet, there was no other wolf that took his interest. Nor another person that ever moved anything in his heart.

Except for the voice that appeared every night when there was a full moon that illuminated the shore and the forest. A voice that sounded sad and made his heart ache and yearn at the same time. Yet, he never found the source within the first times. No matter how sharp his mind was, or how sharp his ears were… he could not find the voice and it was gone by dawn. Always by dawn. As if he was chasing after a dream.

That was why he laid down at the shore before the night had settled in, and he waited for that voice to reappear. And it did. In the form of the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. Yet, her song was so sad despite her beauty, and he found himself watching her while she sat there on the shore- crying silently as she sung.

The song ended though when she took notice of him, her blue eyes clearly startled at first, and she just was about to delve back into the ocean when he called out for her with a lonely howl. It was what made her freeze in her motions because she realized that this animal just might be as lonely as she was. 

She extended her hand to let him come towards her, felt the soft muzzle that brushed against her hands. He felt so warm in contrast to her cold and wet skin. A warmth that was soothing, and she found herself spending the nights with him on the shore. 

They talked and sung together, no matter how different they were. Found joy in the company of the other. 

And they ended up falling in love. Promised each other to meet underneath the next full moon before she had to delve back into the deep waters.

But he wasn’t there on the next time that they were supposed to meet, and she found herself weeping again, because she thought that he was gone. She returned to the sea, sinking into the depths with a broken heart. Even though she knew that it was better this way. That she was meant to be alone to keep him alive.

Little did she know though that the wolf that she’d fallen for sought out a witch in the depths of the forest. A witch that should fulfil him the wish to join his lover in the deep sea. He had to promise her though that his soul would belong to her as soon as his life would be nearing his end. A bargain that he gladly took if it meant that he could be with his lover.

The witch held her word. She gave him an amulet that would turn him into a creature of the sea, exactly like the one that his lover was. And he returned to the shore with it, as he looked for her. 

Yet, neither was she sitting there, nor could he hear her song and it was his determination that made him walk into the water as he spoke the incantation that the witch had given him.

Pain was what shot trough his body as he transformed. A pain that he never felt before and that was ripping at each one of his bones. And it probably did, considering the fact that his wolfish body became that of a sea creature. 

But he pushed trough every ounce of pain that ripped him apart, searching for the one that he loved. The one that was his soulmate without any doubt.

And it was then that he heard the sad song of her.  The song that made his heart ache in longing. He delved for her to the deepest part of the ocean to find her. To hold her within his arms for the first time, to feel her body against his own. He felt her arms that wrapped around him lovingly in return, cupping his face gently before  she whispered ‘I love you’ against his lips before they slowly turned to stone.

As it was her curse to find love that she would lose in the end. 

Yet, the two lovers still hold onto another, until this very day. Their song still  travelling the waves of the endless waters while their statue stood hidden and protected for eternity.

The wolfs soul however had moved on, bound to the witch that had granted him his wish, and he still was seeking for her. To find her and her song once more.