#Like aggressive judge hammering noises

[real-reulbbr-band]

You know while I'm writing this Munk thing I'm thinking about how funny it would be if Dem didn't recognize fake D and Mac ended up choosing Jellicle choice.

He’d 100% disregard the jellicles vote and just shoot Munk up there but yea.

[meazalykov]

crashout

parentalfigure!pernille harder x parentalfigure!magdalena erikkson x f!reader

warnings: swearing. mutual aggression with reader and opponent player. reader is intended to be between 17-20 years old. platonic fic!!!

sprinting across the pitch, the mia san mia in the crowd blasts into your ears, the 24/25 red kit sticks to your skin as sweat beads down your forehead. the red feels like a second skin at this point, a far cry from the blue you wore just over a season ago at chelsea. 

london is a memory now… you’d packed your bags and traded it for munich’s crisp air before pernille made her own move herself. you beat her here by a year, a decision that felt right even if it meant leaving behind the familiarity of everything. 

pernille’s been your anchor through it all. she’s more than a teammate…she’s the closest thing you’ve got to family or a parent figure. growing up, you didn’t have much of that. neglect left its mark, hollowed out spaces where parents should’ve been, and it’s shaped you in ways you don’t always like to admit. 

emotionally, you’re a bit of a mess. you seem quick to flare, slow to settle. however, pernille’s steady. she’s got this quiet strength, a way of looking at you that makes you feel seen without being judged. you call her your parental figure, and she’s never shied away from the role. 

also there’s magda, her partner, who’s just as much a part of your life now. you live next door to them in a cozy munich suburb, and magda’s warmth with her dry humor and gentle nudges has earned her a spot as another motherly presence. 

still, it’s pernille you’re tighter with, the one you turn to when the world feels like it is too much.

every night, you’re at their place and having dinner together is an every evening occurance with pernille stirring something on the stove, magda setting the table, you sprawled on their couch like it’s your own. they’ve built a home around you, filled the gaps your childhood left behind.

today, it’s not about quiet evenings or shared meals. it’s wolfsburg, a match that’s got your pulse hammering from the first whistle. 

hours before the stakes were high and the tackles were brutal. bayern was losing 1-0 and you were already on edge, frustration simmering beneath your skin. sometime right after the second half, lynn from wolfsburg catches you with a late challenge. 

you stumble, boots skidding, and whip around to face her. she mutters something under her breath…the dutch word for stupid slicing through the noise. 

you’re not fluent, but you’ve picked up enough from teammates and travels to know exactly what she said.

you knew she called you stupid from the look on her face. the dam breaks in that same moment. you storm toward her, chest heaving, and unleash a barrage of curses…english, german, a chaotic mix of whatever spills out in the heat of the moment. 

your voice is sharp, venomous, cutting through the damp air as you close the distance between you. lynn’s eyes flash with surprise, then defiance, but before she can snap back, the pitch explodes into chaos. 

teammates and opponents swarm in, shouts overlapping as hands from pernille and glodis grab at your arms, and your shoulders pulling you away. you’re still yelling, words tumbling out in a furious blur, when pernille’s voice cuts through like a blade. 

“stop it, right now!” she says, her grip on your elbow unyielding. pernille’s tone’s not loud, but it’s heavy, serious in a way that makes your stomach twist. you shake your head, muttering under your breath, and wrench yourself free, stalking back to your position. 

the ref’s already got the yellow card out, waving it in your face. you barely glance at it. 

whatever.

the whistle blows later, and luckily you guys won 2-1 but you’re still pissed, pacing the locker room, boots scuffing the floor as you replay the clash in your head. pernille catches your eye across the room, her expression unreadable. 

“we’ll talk at home,” she says simply, and you didn’t argue. 

you know it’s coming.

many hours later, you’re still slouched on their couch, the familiar scent of magda’s cooking lingering in the air even though dinner’s long over. magda’s beside you, her presence a quiet comfort, her knee brushing yours as she scrolls through her phone. 

pernille’s standing, arms crossed, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. she’s not mad, not exactly, but there’s a weight to her gaze that makes you shift uncomfortably. 

“why’d you get so upset out there y/n?” she asks, her voice calm but direct, like she’s peeling back layers to get at the truth.

you shrug, staring at the floor. 

“we were down 1-0. i was already pissed off. she was there, running her mouth. i had to let it out and put her in her place.” your words come out rough, still laced with that lingering heat.

pernille tilts her head, studying you. 

“it’s football,” she says. 

“things get heated. words get thrown around. but you don’t need to go off like that… cussing her out and somehow making it personal.” you scoff, rolling your eyes, the defiance bubbling up again. 

“she did it first and called me stupid.”

“she said it in dutch,” pernille points out, stepping closer. 

“she didn’t think you’d even understand. and since when do you know dutch anyway?” her brow arches, curious, but you dodge the question, jutting your chin out instead. 

“doesn’t matter. she meant it and i felt it.”

magda sets her phone down, her voice softer as she chimes in. 

“still doesn’t mean you have to match her fire with your own. you’re better than that.” you glance at her, her steady brown eyes meeting yours, and something in you softens, just a little. pernille nods, picking up the thread. 

“you’ve got to control it,” she says. 

“not every fight is worth picking. that yellow card is a warning. learn from it and don’t be stupid in the next game, yeah?”

you lean back, arms crossed, the tension still coiled tight in your chest. 

“lynn started it,” you mutter, stubborn. 

pernille sighs, crouching down so she’s at your level, her hands resting on her knees. 

“maybe she did but you took it further and you know that you did not need to. you’re stronger than that…on the pitch, off it. you’ve got us to lean on, you know that.”

the room goes quiet, the weight of her words settling over you. magda reaches over, squeezes your shoulder lightly. 

“we’ve all been there,” she says. 

“losing your head’s easy but keeping it’s the hard part.”

you exhale, long and slow, the fight draining out of you bit by bit. pernille’s right…magda too. 

you know it, even if it’s hard to swallow. 

“fine,” you say finally, voice low. 

“lesson learned. yes including the yellow card and all.”

pernille smiles, small but genuine, and straightens up. 

“good. we’re settled then.” she moves to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you feel her presence like a tether. magda nudges you with her elbow, a silent check-in, and you nod. 

the anger’s still there. it is a faint ember, but it’s fading. 

masterlist

[eyes-of-mischief]

weekly fic recs | 35

fandoms: bnha, jjk, tgcf, svsss, yoi

jjk

Butterfly Mouth by Oodles

(explicit)

Toudou Aoi likes a challenge, so he tries to figure out what Inumaki Toge's type is, and accidentally discovers more about himself along the way.

android girl by like_vines

(explicit)

the two of them have never liked to be apart from each other for too long.

Achilles, Come Down by HotCocoaaa

(mature) (graphic depictions of violence)

“Satoru?” The word rings, fuzzy in his ears as it whines like tinnitus, familiar and heart stopping.

‘I’m dead.’ He can’t even hear his own thoughts over the loudness of the world, staggering where he stands, eyes still fixated on the sky, on the sun. ‘I’m dead, I died, I felt my heart stop, this can’t be, it can’t-’

“Hey,” it comes again, a little more urgent than before, a little closer, another hammer to his ears and all the noise shrieking behind his eyes. He recoils hard enough to go stumbling as a hand reaches for him, covered in flesh rather than empty bone, tan and recognizable. Unbelievable.

There’s something wet trickling from his nose. Bile stings on the back of his tongue. The words dissolve into the rest of the white noise as he stares up at the blue of the sky, and tries to remember if he’d ever had a hallucination as bright as this.

‘I have to be dead,’ he thinks.

Somehow, he isn’t.

bnha x jjk

May Death Never Stop You by slex (slexenskee)

Gojo Satoru has spent a lifetime trying to do the right thing the right way.

He decides to spend his second terrorizing the local yakuza, reliving his middle school glory days with a pop punk youth aesthetic and a regrettable affliction for black leather, uprooting the criminal underworld and hero industry alike and casually taking up costumed aggression as an occupation.

A Gojo Satoru is reborn as Todoroki Touya AU

A Stone Turned Over by Chloro

“Oh? Is he strong?”

“The strongest quirk-user,” Shoko said. She didn’t show much interest in heroes, but everyone knew that much. “He might even be a match for you two.”

Suguru’s sinking feeling got stronger as Satoru snapped his head around, raising his glasses with a manic gleam lighting up his eyes. “Really?”

portals, prayers (and the mortality that accompanies both) by disjointed_symphony

Inumaki Toge is trying to fight a cursed spirit; then he pops right through the floor, a black hole, and out into, apparently, another universe.

Villains are in the midst of attacking USJ when a blue portal opens, suspended mid-air. A teenager with pale hair and markings around his mouth falls out.

(And, sometime later, following his errant student, Gojou Satoru lands gracefully in a run-down bar.)

tgcf

The Darker The Weather, The Better The Man by capyshota

(explicit)

At the point where Xie Lian is struggling to breathe through the intense winds, he stops and turns his back to the source of it all. He squints to trace back his footsteps, but finds they’ve already faded into smooth snow drifts at the thirty foot mark.

-

“���A lot of things out here can catch you off guard if you aren’t careful.”

svsss

save your tears (for another day) by anatheme

In which the SYSTEM provided Shen Qingqiu a way to distract Luo Binghe during their reunion in the Jinlan City Arc:

And then he felt it, a hot and stinging sensation in his eyes.

Something warm and wet trailed down his cheek. His vision blurred and he hurriedly tried blinking it away.

Shen Qingqiu quickly wiped his face before anyone could see. He stared at the wet trail in his hand in horror and betrayal. What the fuck, SYSTEM?!

Too late, Luo Binghe already saw it, judging by the sharp intake of breath and everyone going silent around him.

How to Forgive Your Shizun with the Power of Hindsight by bingheluvr69

It occurs to Shen Qingqiu that, as a teacher, he can teach Binghe how to forgive a Shizun who'd push him into the Abyss one day, and a whole mess of misunderstandings may be avoided

yoi

Devil's Trill by feelslikefire

(explicit)

When Victor Nikirofov finds an angel wandering lonely through the edge of his realm in Hell, he makes the boy an offer. Yuuri, who has his own reasons for being far from Heaven's light, finds it a hard bargain to refuse. An angel & demon BDSM au.

[wittygaypuns]

#70 & #97 for villaneve

70; Locked in a room

97; Time Travel

BEHOLD. Crack fic prompted through this Fic Mashup list (feel free to send me more, these are fun) Takes place in the same universe as the other Alaska fics I’ve written where VIllaneve have dogs (a male named Carolyn and a female named Konstantin) and got married. Mostly behind a cut because it’s almost 3k words...

“Let's go camping, she says,” Eve half-shouted, “It'll be romantic!”

“Oh my god would you stop, I didn't know there would be a fucking blizzard okay? It's MAY, I didn't think it would happen!” Oksana protested.

“We're in Alaska, Oksana! Check the forecast!” Eve shouted for real, looking back at her as they trudged through whipping winds and biting cold.

“Why did you agree then? Why didn't you say, hey Oksana, you usually make really bad decisions, maybe we go vacation in Hawaii instead? Or book a hotel somewhere and not go out into the wilderness?” She spat back.

“Because every time I tell you you make bad decisions you make it about me and you, you jackass – I can hear it now 'Oh, do you think I made bad decision when we got together?'” Eve mimicked an overly deep Russian accent. She sounded like a villain in a cheesy 90s action flick.

“Yeah, that's probably true.” She conceded, grinning. “Oh! I see something.”

“Is that a cabin?” Eve looked where she was looking, eyes going wide.

“I think so – come on, before it gets any worse. We'll see if they'll be nice to us and let us stay the night because we're stupid and tried to camp...” Oksana began to pick up her pace.

“We're stupid? WE? This was your idea, do not slander me to strangers.” Eve huffed, trying to keep up with her. It was difficult – Oksana was all leg.

“Maybe just a little slander, huh? You love me.” Oksana grinned, taking her arm.

“You're lucky to have me. Anyone else would have let you die in the snow.” Eve muttered, holding on to her; though she was bundled up, Oksana's body was something she naturally gravitated towards. Their dogs, Carolyn and Konstantin, flanked them on either side, on the alert for any wildlife looking for an easy target.

“I wouldn't die. I'd open up a bear and sleep in it until morning.” Oksana said.

“Like in the Revenant?” Eve remarked.

“Wasn't that a horse?”

“Was it? Oh, yeah, he fought a bear and slept in his horse. Man, that movie was fucked.” Eve laughed.

“We should watch it again. So I can remember how not to fight a bear. Just in case.” Oksana nodded.

“You have a gun and I have bear mace.” Eve pointed out.

“We both have bear mace. You insisted. But we could always lose those, and then what? A bear can just fuck us up. Well, I'd have it fuck me up as you ran away.”

“I wouldn't leave you to get mauled by a bear.”

“Yes you would.”

“... Yeah, you're probably right. But only if I didn't have bear mace and the dogs.” Eve grinned as they came to the steps of the cabin.

It was hard to tell if any lights were on, or if it was occupied; it was snowing so hard that it was almost a white-out, rendering visibility next to nothing. As they scaled the steps up to the covered porch it was obvious that it was abandoned and in poor shape. There were two-by-fours blocking the door, and the windows were also boarded off. This did not perturb either of them.

“Can you go in my bag and get the -” Oksana started, but Eve was already leaning up to go through her bag.

“The hammer-pick thing?” She confirmed.

“It's a geological hammer.” Oksana grinned. “See? I told you it would come in handy.”

“Yes, it's handy this one time out of like, the thousands of times you've brought it somewhere. You're brilliant and I love you.” Eve pulled out the tool, and looked to her. “Can I?”

“Please. I love watching you work.” Oksana stepped back, pushing her hood back, shaking off the snow that had layered on top of it. Konstantin shook out her fur, while Carolyn simply sat on the porch, content to be covered. He gave a soft 'boof' at his sister, who moved next to him.

She giggled in delight as Eve started cracking at the boards with the small hammer, jumping a little at the noise of the impacts. Eve yelled as she did it, for some reason; maybe it gave her more power. Oksana did not question her process out loud, always enjoying the destruction that her wife was capable of. She knew Eve wasn't actually upset about the blizzard, or her insistence that camping would be fun; it would have been if the weather had been right, and nothing in the forecast had said the snow would be so bad. A dusting, it had predicted, not the solid curtain they were currently trying to escape. They had been trying to make their way back to the car, but had been turned around at some point – or turned sideways, or upside down. It was impossible to tell. Neither of the dogs were put off by the noises their other mother was making; they just watched with Oksana from a safe distance as she cracked the boards off one by one. Konstantin gave a soft whine, looking up at Oksana.

“It's okay baby. I know mommy is crazy. That's why we love her though, right girl?” She grinned down at the dog, who panted happily at her.

“Mommy needs to get – her – aggression – out! Every now and then.” Eve cracked at the last board, speaking through it as she hammered and throwing her arms up in triumph as it fell to the side, broken.

“Mommy is very sexy holding a geological hammer.” Oksana wiggled her brows at her wife, who rolled her eyes and tried the door... then groaned.

“Boarded and locked. Your turn.” Eve muttered, walking back to her spot.

“I taught you how to do it, though.” She smiled, letting her take the spot between the dogs.

“You're better at it.” Eve smirked, “Besides, I think it's kinda hot, so – get to it.”

“As you wish.” Oksana gave a bow, then moved into position.

As she was wearing what Eve affectionately referred to as 'shit kicker' boots, it was a simple task fireman kicking the door into submission. With one mighty kick, the door cracked and splintered next to the lock enough to be pushed in. It was a chore pushing it in, however – something was behind it. She frowned and put her shoulder into it, trying to push it open. Was someone living in there? Were they about to find a body belonging to some long dead homesteader? How was there something barring the door on one side and boards barring the other? Did someone bar it and leave out a window?

“There's something behind it? What the hell.” Eve muttered, moving to help push the door. “How? Oh fuck, do you think someone's in there?”

“We'll find out, I guess.”

When they pushed it open enough to slip inside, Oksana took the gun from its holster at her hip and kept her head on a swivel. If there was anyone or anything hostile in there, she'd defend her family without hesitation. It was easy enough to make someone disappear in Alaska. The item behind the door was a couch with a heavy oak frame coated in a fine layer of dust. She frowned; judging by how heavy it was, the place was definitely abandoned. Carolyn squeezed in past the two, ears perked. He was a fiercely protective animal, and looked around just as readily as Oksana. Konstantin came in after Eve.

“Eve...” Oksana mumbled, looking back to her.

“What? Did you see something?” Eve looked forward, worried.

“If you're mommy to our babies, doesn't that make me daddy? I thought we agreed that made me daddy.” Oksana asked, grinning cheerily as she moved to check the bathroom and bedroom.

“I never agreed to that. You had that conversation entirely by yourself.” Eve rolled her eyes, untensing her shoulders.

“What do you think, Caro? Am I daddy?” She asked the dog, whose tail wagged at being spoken to. “What about you Konny? Am I daddy?”

“They're just coming to you because you're talking to them, don't take that as confirmation. Now... It looks like the place is empty, right? Let's go lay on that disgusting bed with the dogs and wait out the storm while our stuff dries out.” Eve suggested.

“Okay. It does look pretty gross, but a bed is a bed.” Oksana agreed; the fatigue of walking for an hour in a blizzard was hitting her hard now.

Within a few moments both had stripped out of their outer layers and boots, snow caked items hanging up to dry. Oksana tilted her head as she looked down at the bed. There was no dust on it, or anything else in the room. The quilt was standard cabin fare, heavy and wool, but stained to hell. Making a face, she yanked it off and immediately stepped back. Underneath it there were a number of journals, scattered yellowing papers, and knife that looked vaguely ceremonial. It was stained black with old blood.

“Oh, wow. So the former owner of this place was a crazy person researching something, I guess.” Eve mumbled, looking at them as well.

“Great. Lost in a blizzard and in a crazy person's cabin.” Oksana muttered, a feeling of foreboding gripping her belly. She went to retrieve her gun.

“They're probably long gone, baby. We don't really have an option to go anywhere else right now, not with the storm, so let's just... clear this off and get some rest, right? We checked the whole place, there's no one in here. Leave your gun there, help me clear this. The dogs would be freaking out if something was wrong.” Eve reassured her. She had followed her to where the gun was stashed, a hand placed over hers.

“... Yeah, I guess. Isn't it weird there's no windows in this room, though?” Oksana mumbled, uneasy.

“This room would get sun blaring into it during polar day.” Eve pointed out. “Our bedroom doesn't have them either.”

“Okay okay. I just have a creeping feeling, you know? Maybe I'm just tired.”

“Wanna keep it on the nightstand?” Eve offered, looking to the gun.

“Yes please.” She nodded quickly. Having it nearby would reassure her.

Shoving the strange feelings down, she placed the gun on the nightstand and went to help gather up the detritus on the bed, frowning as she looked at the papers. They were all written on, front to back, or drawn on. The paper was not actual paper, as she had assumed before, feeling more like some sort of fabric. None of the words were written in a language she could understand – and she could read and speak seven different ones, and had been slowly attempting to teach herself Inupiaq since moving to Alaska. Languages had always fascinated her, so to come across one she didn't recognize easily...

“What language do you think this is?” She asked, hoping Eve might have some insight.

“Kinda looks like runes.” Eve was examining a paper of her own.

“Like – viking stuff?” Oksana asked.

“Well, something from that time period, I guess.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Or aliens wrote it.”

“Don't joke about that. Aliens freak me out.” Oksana stared at her.

“Don't think about it too hard, baby.” Eve smirked, tossing her pile of papers and journals to the floor beside them. Oksana added her own. Both looked at the knife at the same time, then at one another. Eve instantly brought a finger to her nose.

“Not it.”

“Damnit, you always get me with that. If I move it and an alien pops out of somewhere, we're going back outside.” She muttered as she took it and tossed it haphazardly to the floor by a corner, not wanting to look at it anymore.

The door suddenly swung shut. Oksana grabbed her gun and moved to Eve's front; the dogs had the same instinct, standing like proud soldiers in front of her. Their ears were up and alert. Eve gripped the hammer-pick, and then gave a sigh.

“I didn't close the front door off. The wind probably pulled it shut. Calm down, my loves, it was just the wind.” Eve said, moving towards the door – Oksana grabbed her arm and grunted at her.

“I'll check, just in case.”

Eve conceded to her extensively-trained-in-armed-combat wife, frowning softly as she crept towards the door. There was no reason to be paranoid, right? Doors closed by themselves sometimes. Wind and pressure did strange things in cabins. Especially old, creepy ones with notebooks full of runes and daggers in the bed. Oksana swore to herself that if she opened the door and found a zombie, ghoul, draugr, or any other sort of beast out there she would never, ever suggest a trip again. All outing planning would be Eve's from then on and she would do them without complaint because, really, Eve would never allow her to live it down. 'Remember when we got caught in a blizzard and had to fight a ghost? That was bullshit, Oksana' – she could hear so clearly.

With a deep breath, she touched the door handle and turned it.

When it opened and she peeked out, her face drained of what little color she had, looking over her shoulder at Eve.

“What is it? Oksana, is there something out there?”

“I... I...” She stammered, whispering 'мамонт'.

“I don't know what that means baby – what's out holy SHIT IS THAT A MAMMOTH?” Eve screamed as she peeked out – Oksana threw a hand over her mouth to quiet her.

“EVE.” She whisper-yelled, eyes wide and horrified.

Eve screamed behind her hand, dropping immediately into an entirely reasonable panic. Oksana squashed her own freak-out to wrap her arms around her wife, holding her tight to keep her from going completely insane right away. She sank to the floor with her, stroking her hair to try and soothe her. Outside the door there was no longer a cabin. Outside the door, the whole landscape had changed. They were tucked into the single room, a room which was now flanked by glacial drifts. In the distance was a wooly mammoth, enormous and red-furred, walking with its mate and young, paying the pair absolutely no mind.

They had somehow gone back in time.

“This is crazy, right? We're not seeing that. There's no way. Absolutely no way.” Oksana whispered to Eve, who was shaking at the implications, mouth still covered as she whimpered.

“Caro, stay!” She yanked her mouth away from Oksana's hand as the dog attempted to creep out.

He whimpered and sat, ears straight up.

“I just – I – close the door. I can't look at that. This is stupid.” Eve shook her head, looking to her.

“Yeah...” Oksana mumbled, leaning up to get the door.

“So we're in a time traveling room? Like the Tardis but super shitty?” Eve mumbled, eyes just as wide as hers.

“Or we're buried in a snow drift hallucinating while we die.” Oksana suggested lamely.

“Either way this is... pretty awful.” Eve said.

“What are we gonna do?” She asked.

“I... Well, we have each other, our dogs, and some supplies. I guess we're gonna just... have to figure this out, right?” Eve said.

“Can we take a nap first? I think my brain is fried.” She whined in response.

“Oksana.”

“Okay, okay... Time for another adventure, huh?”

“And, Oksana? You're never choosing our vacations again.”

[tanadrin]

Reordberend

(part 22 of 30; first; previous; next)

“Heat is the main thing,” the tall woman said. “Iron must be white hot to bind it, steel must be bright yellow.” At least, Katherine thought she meant yellow. The People’s color terms didn’t map exactly onto modern English--they didn’t have a word for ‘orange,’ for instance.

“There are some metals we find in salvage that our forges can’t work, of course. They must be cut or sharpened as best we can manage, or simply used in the shape they are found. The hardest metals, alas, are almost useless to us.”

Katherine nodded. That made sense; a material you couldn’t work was of no good to you unless you got very lucky and it turned up in exactly the right shape. There were high-temperature compounds and fancy metamaterials that you’d need a fusion forge to melt, and some insanely specialized tech to shape into anything useful.

“But most of the metal you salvage seems to be ordinary steel,” Katherine said.

The woman--the blacksmith’s name was Hræfn--nodded. “Steel, tin, some aluminum, sometimes small amounts of copper, gold, and silver. The little rune-slates”--Katherine was pretty sure this meant the electronic components--”sometimes have other metals in them, but these are of little use to us.”

“What do you use for fuel? For the forges.”

“Come.”

Hræfn led Katherine around the back of the forge. There was a huge piece of machinery there, that almost came up to her waist, and a pair of cables came up out of the ground and connected to it.

“What is that?”

“That’s a dragon’s tongue.”

“Um… can you be more specific?”

“The part of it that spits fire. The dragons used them once upon a time to cut into mountainsides. At much lower power, they can heat stone red hot. A little hotter, they can melt steel. We supply them with the power cells we salvage, but those are a precious resource. A blacksmith must train for many years before they are entrusted with the use of the forge on their own.”

“Of course. It wouldn’t do to waste that fire.”

Hræfn nodded. “You understand.”

“Now, will you show me what you’re working on?”

“Certainly.”

They went back inside. The forge was above the village; not too far off, but it commanded a nice view of the valley. Katherine imagined it would get a little lonely up here, but Hræfn didn’t seem to mind. She was the sort of person who only seemed to be really happy when she was absorbed in her work, and judging by her muscles--she looked like she could wrestle a dragon and maybe win--she spent a lot of time working.

“We make many things here,” Hræfn said. “Weapons”--she gestured at a row of long hunting spears on the wall, perfect for spearing fish or birds--”tools, armor, sometimes things of glass. I am proud to say my work is found in every village in the Valleys.”

“How long have you been a blacksmith?”

“I started working with my father when I was fifteen. So, almost twenty years.” Hræfn slipped on some thick gloves, picked up an enormous pair of tongs, and slid open the door to the furnace. A bright red light filled the hot little room, and she fished around inside with the tongs for a moment, before pulling out a large, round piece of metal that glowed red-hot. She dropped it unceremoniously on the enormous anvil in the middle of the room, and picked up a hammer.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Yet. But it will be a shield.” She brought the hammer down on the glowing metal; there was a terrific bang, sparks flew, and Katherine let out a little yelp.

“I will beat the metal flat, until it is a thin plate. Then I will be able to etch a design on it. This is not ordinary steel; it is one of the salvager’s metals, so it will be lightweight and strong. Strong enough to deflect swords and spears.”

“Do you have much need for that sort of thing?”

Hræfn smiled. “No, thankfully. This will be only for the art. But if I am going to make a shield, even just to hang in the village hall, it will be a good shield. Or what’s the point?”

“Fair enough. How long will it take?”

“Many hours. First, I must beat the metal flat, and even.” Bang. Sparks. “Then cut away the parts I don’t need. I will have to decide if I merely want to etch the design with acid, or if I want to emboss it as well. I’ll need to add straps, so it can be carried. I will make those of leather. If no one has any work they need done sooner, it should be finished in three or four days.”

“That’s a long time for one shield.”

“I take pride in my craftsmanship.”

“I can see that. Would you--is there any chance when you’re done with that, you could do something for me?”

Hræfn raised an eyebrow. “What were you thinking?”

Katherine slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out the gemstone-in-silver she had found among the salvage.

“We found this in the corpse of a dragon, when we went salvaging in the mountains. Have you ever seen anything like it?”

Hræfn took the thing and turned it over in her hand, then held it up to the narrow shaft of light coming in through one of the windows.

“No,” she said. “It’s very beautiful. Like very fine cut glass.”

“Yes,” Katherine said. “Although I think it was originally some kind of, some kind of rune-thing. Used by the dragon, to help it move.”

Hræfn nodded. “It is not pure. I can see fine lines within it.”

“I thought you could turn it in to something beautiful. Perhaps for the village.”

“Yes, I think I can. I wonder if it can be worked like glass--shall I try?”

“Go ahead. You’re the artist.”

“It will be a pleasant challenge. Thank you for bringing me this.” She set it down on the workbench and picked up her hammer again.

“You should come back in, let’s say, five days. Then perhaps I will have something for you.”

“Thank you,” Katherine said. “And thank you for indulging my curiosity. I’ll let you get back to work.” Hræfn nodded, raised her hammer high, and brought it down on the glowing chunk of metal again. Bang! Katherine stepped outside, inhaling sharply at the shock of the cold air on her sweating face. As she walked down the path back to the village, Hræfn’s hammer-blows echoed off the hills.

* * *

When she returned to the village hall, she found some of the elders were sitting around the fire, deep in conversation. Wulf was with them, and Leofe’s father, and some other faces Katherine knew by sight, but not by name. She gave them a wide berth, so as not to appear an eavesdropper, and went to the back corner where she had set up a little desk with a candle to do some reading. Leofric had gotten her interested in the People’s literature, and she wanted to see if she could make it through some more of their poetry. It was dense and, for her, sometimes dry stuff, that often didn’t seem to have much relevance to the actual day-to-day life of the Valleys. But it was important to the People, and so Katherine wanted to understand.

She had just lit the candle and sat down to read, when a hand was laid on her shoulder.

“Leofric, have you--oh.”

Katherine turned around. It was Leofe, looking red-faced and winded after a long journey. Her expression went blank when she realized her mistake.

“I thought--I mistook you for my brother. Sorry.”

“I cut my hair.”

“Yes. I see that now.” Leofe turned, and walked off. Katherine’s heart sank a little. Okay, Katherine’s heart sank a lot. She hadn’t seen Leofe in weeks, and this was how she reacted? What the fuck? What had she done that had pissed her off so badly? She tried to go back to her book, but after a couple of minutes she realized she was still too irritated to concentrate; her eyes were skipping over the letters without taking anything in. She looked over her shoulder; Leofe was talking to the elders now, sucked in to whatever village gossip was the topic du jour. Katherine shut the book, and put it down; then after a moment’s hesitation, stood.

Once, when Katherine was an undergrad in Dublin, she’d heard through the grapevine that one of her classmates had a problem with her. Her name was Lucy, she was British, and apparently Katherine had done something during Fresher’s Week that had so offended her that she was on Lucy’s shit list for two years after. It was petty, juvenile bullshit, but it nagged and nagged at Katherine until she realized she would never be able to let it go unless she confronted Lucy, and they hashed out whatever was going on. Her friends were horrified by this. They assumed this was some latent American brashness surfacing. In truth, it was nothing of the sort; if anything, the little Southern community Katherine had grown up in was even more confrontation-averse. You might gossip around the edges, but you didn’t confront people, oh no. You made nice at church on Sundays, you pretended like nothing was wrong, you swept everything under the rug, and you maybe just trash-talked whoever you didn’t like when they weren’t around.

Katherine hated that. She was not good at confrontation, but she was even worse at the fake-nice passive-aggressive bullshit that most people tolerated in its place. So she got up, and she walked confidently over toward Leofe and the others, and then she hesitated once or twice, because she wasn’t that confident, but then she kept walking.

“Leofe, I need--”

“Oh, Katherine. Come here,” Wulf said. “You might be interested in this. Aelfric says you have taken an interest in the fanes.”

“What?”

“We were just discussing the pilgrimage,” Wulf said. “Sit.”

Katherine sat down nervously, thrown off by the sudden shift in gears.

“The--the pilgrimage?”

Wulf nodded. “Once a year, at midwinter, we send someone to the Great Fane, out on the sea. There are certain duties that must be observed. It’s a very holy time for our people.”

“But it’s not midwinter yet.”

“No. But some of us are worried. Hrimgar said he saw lights near the island nine days ago. It may have just been a passing outlander vessel, but others have reported far-off noises in the hills. There may be strangers intruding in places they should not. We don’t wish the fanes to be disturbed.”

“So you want someone to check on them?”

“Yes. We’re thinking of sending some pilgrims early this year. Nothing serious. Just to allay our fears.”

“And if something is wrong?”

“They should come back at once,” Leofe’s father said. “And we will decide what to do then.”

“You don’t want a confrontation.”

He nodded.

“I will go,” Leofe said. “I have no duties to attend to right now. I know the rites. And I know how to avoid trouble.”

Wulf nodded. “That seems sensible to me. You should not go alone then.”

“I’ll be all right.”

“I believe you. But it is a long journey, and things are a little uncertain.” The others seemed to agree. “We should send someone with you.”

They spent a few minutes going down the list of people they knew who might be willing to make the journey; but it was deep winter now, and many were busy with important tasks, or traveling to other villages. Eventually, Katherine realized Wulf was staring at her.

“We should send Katherine,” he said. The others stopped, and looked at him like he was crazy. Leofe in particular seemed displeased.

“Me? But I don’t--I’m not--is that even allowed?”

Wulf shrugged. “It’s not not allowed. You’re not busy right now, are you?”

“Um. I guess not?”

“And you did express to Aelfric that you wanted to learn more of our ways and customs?”

“...I did.”

“And you have already shown yourself up for journeys to the mountains and to the sea.”

“I suppose I have.”

“Then I think you would be a perfect companion for Leofe.”

Leofe looked like she was about to explode. “I don’t think--” she started, but Wulf cut her off.

“Everyone else has urgent tasks to do. Winter is a difficult time. Everything that cannot be done during the building and the hunting and the farming season must be done hastily in winter, and so everyone else is occupied. Katherine will go with you. It is the only sensible thing.”

This seemed to deflate Leofe, who glared at Wulf momentarily, then just stared into the fire.

“Leofe will tend to the rites of the People. And if there are outlanders at the fane, you can speak with them, Katherine. Would it not be fortunate if you could return home sooner than you anticipated?”

“Sure...”

“Then it is settled. You will depart in four days. It is not a long journey, but it can be difficult in winter, so the sooner you leave, the better. I will speak to Osferth about your supplies.”

Leofe stood, pulled the hood of her coat up, and walked out of the hall without a word. Wulf watched her go without saying anything.

“Are you sure about this?” Katherine asked him.

Wulf simply smiled a small, serene, infuriating smile, and nodded. Katherine sighed, and got up to go back to her books.

[captain-yeet]

Oh No, He’s Hot - Part 2

Pairing: Felix x Reader

Summary: Felix had little interest in dealing with the Cullens and their human pet. But all that changes when he lays eyes on her, and now he’s just a little more attentive to the mission.

Warnings: Some angst. I am fueled by the stuff.

\Part one here/ Masterlist

Summary:

Felix had little interest in dealing with the Cullens and their human pet. But all that changes when he lays eyes on her, and now he's just a little more attentive to the mission.

Felix's POV:

Aro had given them clear orders; investigate the Newborns in Seattle, check in with the Cullens to see if Bella Swan was still human. When Demetri made contact with Aro and informed him of the connection between the golden eyed coven and the small army of new vampires, he urged them to observe and see if they would fall. While he would be disappointed with the death of the gifted Cullens and the fact that he wouldn't be able to add them to his guard - his "collection" - he would be more than happy to see them fall. After all, him and Carlisle were not on good terms after he left them in Volterra.

So they kept watch.

And by God, Felix found the whole situation frustrating.

His training as a guard and executioner of the Volturi was screaming at him to take care of the Newborn army, it was their job. They weren't being conspicuous, they were murdering humans with no care in the world and it was the Volturi's job - his job - to dispose of vampires like them. But whenever he brought up his concerns, Jane used her ability on him.

So he travelled through the forest in a foul mood alongside his companions, seething slightly on the inside at how the witch twins wouldn't act and do something about the Newborns. Alec could easily use his powers and we'd have this mission completed within minutes. Absolutely ridiculous.

Felix was itching for this mission to be over, feeling quite fed up with the entire situation and his travelling companions' responses to events.

When they entered the clearing, the Cullens were awaiting them, tense and cautious. Felix zoned out and glanced around at the mess around them. Broken branches lay scattered around the grassy area, a rock had been cracked from what he gathered was someone being thrown into it. The pyre with all the Newborn bodies was burning brightly to the side of the two groups. He couldn't deny that he was impressed by how well they managed to handle themselves, but he'd never admit it out loud.

"My my, it appears you've let another human in on our secret," Jane's voice broke him out of his bored train of thought.

Another human? he grumbled to himself internally, gritting his teeth. Do they know no sense of secrecy?

The Cullens tensed up, Carlisle's mate and the blonde female standing protectively in front of another figure who he assumed was the second human. It was the blonde who spoke next. "She is of no danger to the exposure of our kind," she stated firmly, glaring Jane down, "leave her be."

"Let us be the judge of that," Demetri responded, smirking slightly at the blonde, who only glared harder.

A soft voice came from behind the female. "It's okay, I can handle it," it whispered.

The figure moved from behind the two protective Cullens and stepped forward. A young woman stood before them, jaw clenched tight. Her clothes were tattered and battle-worn, and Felix smelled the scent of blood on her, making a mental note that she smelt particularly nice. E/C eyes stared intently at Jane, her brows raised as if to say let's get his over with.

"Who are you?" Jane asked, slipping into her interrogation stance quickly.

"My name is Y/N," the woman spoke clearly, keeping her head high.

"And what business does a human have consorting with our kind?"

Her eyes flickered nervously between each of his companions, landing on him last. Felix straightened up a little, a feeling of complete intoxication taking over him. It was foreign, but... pleasant. He tried to brush it off, narrowing his eyes at the girl before him and steeling himself. Settle down, he grumbled again. Get a hold of yourself, idiota.

The girl's face turned a little red, blood rushing to her cheeks. "I came to assist the Cullens in their fight against the Newborns," she stated, clenching her fists tightly.

Demetri and Alec let out low chuckles that only a vampire's ears could hear. Jane however was not amused, letting out an indignant "Hmph" of a noise.

"She speaks the truth Jane," said Carlisle, his golden eyes darting from Jane to the human in question with worry.

"And pray tell us," Alec inquire, amused by his sister's reaction, "what are your gifts dear Y/N?"

The human took a shaky breath, looking back at Edward Cullen for a moment, who gave a slight nod. Felix's curiosity was burning by this point. She inhaled deeply, raising her hands with her palms facing upwards. A rumble of thunder echoed abruptly in the sky above them, and the human girl's hands lit up with searingly bright lightning. She raised her head a little higher, standing tall and her eyes began to change from their natural colour to the same glowing hue of blue as the lightning in her hands.

In all his years of living both as a human and his current life as a vampire, Felix had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"You seem to have a habit of collecting gifted young ones, Carlisle!" Demetri called out, an amused look on his face.

Felix only just registered what his friend had said; in this moment, he only had eyes for the human in front of him, her powers subsiding as she lowered her hands. A mix of emotions were rushing through him, part of him wanted to go to her despite knowing that that would be rather unorthodox of him to do, considering the situation. What he wanted to do if he did that? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that she was fascinating to him, and that he wished no harm on her. It was like there was a physical rope lassoed around him, yanking hard to pull him closer to her.

With a feeling of dread and an astonished thought of oh shit, Felix came to the realization that this had to be his mate. What other reason could there be for this reaction? He'd certainly never felt this pull to any other human, or even any vampires he'd met.

A sudden laugh snapped him out of his deep thinking.

"What is it, Cullen?" Jane hissed, irritated by the obnoxious outburst.

The source of the laugh was the Cullen's mind-reader, who looked very amused. His human mate beside him stared as if he'd grown two heads. "It's amusing, how part of your intention was to check to see if my mate was still human, when one of yours has just found a human mate himself."

Felix felt himself tense up. Don't you speak another word, Cullen, if you're implying what I think you are...

Edward merely looked at him with a smug look on his face.

"I beg your bloody pardon, Eddy?" the human snapped, glaring at the mind-reader with a look of confusion and disbelief.

He didn't reply to her, now gesturing to Felix. "Why don't you share with everyone, Felix?" he challenged.

The cocky, self-satisfied tone in his voice set off a low growl from Felix, all eyes now on him. If he was still human, he was sure he'd be red in the face by now. "It's true," he admitted.

"What?" Jane hissed, glaring at him with the burning fury of a thousand suns.

He couldn't meet anyone's eyes; not Jane's or the other in his group, not any of the Cullens (most definitely not Edward's), so he looked at the human. "I feel the mating pull towards her."

Growls and hisses erupted in the clearing, making the human, Y/N, jump, her eyes widening in fear. Carlisle pulled her back, keeping his hands on her shoulders while his mate - Esme, he believed her name was - stepped closer to her. Felix felt some annoyance at the Cullen patriarch; he should be the one to do that, pull the girl away from the tension. He briefly imagined himself wrapping his arms around the scared little human, the thought almost bringing a dumb boyish smile to his face.

Y/N looked back from seeing who had pulled her back to stare at Felix, wide eyed and open mouthed. He couldn't tell if the look on her face was one of fear because of him, or fear of the situation in general. Regardless, he felt a little crestfallen.

"This is... unexpected," Jane broke the growls and hissing, sounding monotone. "We will have to consult with Aro for further course of action. But know this, Y/N," she added, looking directly at Y/N. "Gifted or not, you're still a human who knows of our kind. You won't stay human for long, you can count on that."

Felix whipped his head around to glare at the witch girl, the urge to throw her as far as he could across the clearing building rapidly.

Then again, when didn't he feel like doing that? Felix wasn't exactly fond of Jane, to say the least - Alec on the other hand was at least tolerable.

"So be it," Y/N replied calmly, distracting him from his aggressive thoughts, "but please, don't try to intimidate me with petty threats, kid."

Felix fought to contain a smirk. Oh yeah, I'm taken with her, he concluded. This human girl had the audacity to stand up to Jane - Jane, of all people - and that, was something he admired greatly. She was a feared member of the Volturi, one of the highest ranking officers, and here this human was defying her.

It was practically love at first sight.

Jane on the other hand was not as impressed, making a move toward his mate. The look in her eyes was one he knew well, as he'd seen it many times before she'd use her abilities on some poor wretched being. And also himself.

Don't you dare.

Felix quickly grabbed one of her shoulders, as did Alec. "Let us continue with what we came here to do," Felix reminded her, glancing quickly from Jane to Y/N, who's stoic resolve was slowly breaking. He could hear her heart hammering away in her chest hard.

Jane tensed. Then a smile appeared on her face, a tight-lipped one. She turned her rage onto another - a Newborn who one of the Cullen males stood with. "You missed one."

She began interrogating the girl, using her powers maliciously and smirking when the Newborn fell to the ground screaming. The Cullen's leaders tried to argue for the girl's asylum, saying that they'd take her in as one of their own. Jane however, had made her mind up.

Without sparing a glance at him, Jane blandly stated "Take care of that Felix, I wish to go home."

And so he did. It was his job. Being the executioner of the Volturi, this was his purpose. After he had taken the Newborn's life and had finished disposing of the pieces, he met Y/N's horrified eyes. A pang of regret went through him as he studied her face, clearly shaken by what he'd done. If someone had asked Felix if there was a kill he'd regretted a week prior to this moment, he'd have laughed and said. "Regret? Please, I harbour no regrets."

Now though? He would say this one was a kill he'd regret, not due to caring about the deceased, definitely not, but solely due to it being the cause of his human mate's fearful gaze directed at him. And it shattered him on the inside, completely and beyond a shadow of doubt in his mind.

[deathbyvalentine]

Strahd Fic

Fragility

There was a thread between between them, tight and liable to snap at any moment. She couldn’t tell if it was hate or friendship, if she had broken his trust or earned him. She had never been the best at reading people (too many comings and goings, too many goodbyes) and in just a day of knowing him, Ezra had shifted. The moment he had plunged the stake between his brother’s ribs, he had changed. Now he was unknowable. Something that couldn’t be learned, his thoughts and emotions his own. 

She had liked the warm, earnest boy she had met the day before. You didn’t see too much of kindness when you made your living in clearing out the dark corners of the world. She tried to see the best in everyone, to let the light inside her never dim, but then you saw what life could do to people like Ezra. His soft edges sharpened into points which she would hate to be on the end of. He would be a dangerous monster hunter. She just hoped he would be able to tell who the monsters were. They weren’t always easy to recognise. 

In her morning prayers, knees to dirt, she prayed for him. She rarely prayed for herself - she knew she was blessed. It was the ones outside the Order that needed Torm the most. She prayed for his mother’s health, for his own wounds to heal, but mostly for light to enter his mind and calm the storm that was undoubtedly raging within. She didn’t pray for riches or fame. She just prayed for him to be happy. 

She stood up, brushing off the leaves and mud, and eyed up the towering mists in front of her. A vision flickered across her mind of her returning by the same path, older, wiser, perhaps more scarred. Meeting him again at the tavern, trading stories and smiles. They would make something of themselves, she was sure. Saving people. Fixing what needed to be fixed. Killing monsters. With a small smile on her face, she pressed forward into the fog. 

Elsie Trying to Pray

It felt odd to be on her knees, not begging for her life or cringing in fear/shame. Once her knees were toughened from the amount of time they spent on the floor. Now she felt every rock and crack. She interlaced her fingers, letting them sit in her lap. 

It was morning, hard to tell as it was, the sky so full of mist. The courtyard was silent, tomb-like, the grass wet with dew. She turned her face up towards the sky, closing her eyes, making believe she could feel the heat of the suns rays on her face. She breathed out, steadily, before remembering how very pointless that was.

“Hey Torm.” Her voice sounded thin and frail in the cold air. “It’s been a while.” She waited for a long moment, not quite sure what she expected. No warmth flared in her chest. No comfort resounded through her mind. Nothing came. “I just... I’m just letting you know I’m still here I suppose. I don’t know if you are. But I am. I don’t know if that even means anything now.” Torm was not known for showing favour towards vampires, or indeed anything that preferred to walk at night.

She opened her eyes, wondering if anything could hear her through the veil drawn over Baraovia. Or if anything was even trying to talk to her. She stood, brushing water droplets off her skirts, seeing the outline she left in the soft grass behind her.

Moulin Rouge AU

Elsie tossed the bangles to the side, the metal clattering onto the dresser, making the other girls jump. She sat at her stool, hands scrabbling uselessly at the strings on her corset, attempting to loosen them. She gave up as Lucille approached to do it for her, her hands quick and clever. As she worked, Elsie looked at herself in the mirror. Glitter still streaked her cheeks, jewels still sparkled in her hair. Her lipstick was faded from kissing so many cheeks. Strahd would be happy - there had been coins and bills littering the floor like confetti when she left.

Elsie was not happy. Elsie was filled with discontent and disdain. Disdain for the men who sat in their finery and hooted like owls, disdain for the girls that allowed themselves to feel flattered by their attention, disdain for herself for still being stuck her. Out of the convent and one type of restriction, straight into another. Habits and corsets constricted just the same. She would not be here forever, but she was staring to wonder when her ever after would come. 

She slipped off the dress, shrugging on her softest dressing gown, her aching shoulders and back finally getting a reprieve. Idly, she began signing a few pictures of herself, to be given to patrons who were especially obliging. Her mind went back to the performance today and the crowd she had moved among. 

Most of their faces did not stick in the mind. They blended into each other, indistinguishable. One crowd was the same as the next. But she had noticed something unusual this evening, something that she remembered. There had been a man and he wasn’t looking at her. Not exactly. Sometimes he would glance up and study her, before looking down at the napkin he had unfolded in his lap, his pen moving along it furiously. He didn’t make a noise. He didn’t cheer or holler or clap. He watched and he wrote. 

She wasn’t quite sure if she was offended or not.

Elsie Meeting Rudolph

She slammed her hands against the wood of the table, eyes blazing with righteous fury. She refused to hide her scorn or her disbelief, every inch of her the picture of a paladin. 

“So you want us to wait? To doom these people for Torm knows long more of this?” 

“I do not believe the time is right - “ “And when will it be Rudolph? When you’ve finally gathered your courage from underneath a bar?” He looked at her coldly, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. She knew this look. It was the ‘I am your senior and you will listen to me’ look. He opened his mouth, and her patience dissipated entirely. 

“You know, I was hoping my impressions about you gathered from both your sons was wrong. I was hoping you were as brave and as valiant as they would have had me believe. Maybe I did mistake your identity after all. You surely cannot be the great Rudolph, monster hunting father of Ezra. He would never be such a coward. I could never tell his son such a thing.”

She had went too far and she knew it. He stared at her, as though he were judging whether violence was in fact a suitable answer for the offence she had caused. Instead he chose silence and absence - he left, the door slamming behind him like a clap of thunder. Elsie’s chest heaved. She supposed she was doing this alone. Idly, she wished Ezra had come with her. He would have put his father both to rights and to shame.

Then/Now - Vampire Squad

Lucille - relaxed, pleasant, flirtatious: stoic, emotionless, tense Lucille sat on her chair, braiding the hair of the girl sat between her legs. Her fingers were deft and clever, plaiting flowers and petals in every other cross. Now and again she would lean down with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her ordermate’s head. They were close, but Lucille was close to a lot of people. She enjoyed the company of the woman of her order, always spending time intertwined with them, always pushing them to be better. She liked evenings like this best - aching after weapons practice, pleasantly tired, warm with the efforts of the day. 

Lucille pulled her knees up to her chest, staring into the crackling fire. She ignored the chatter of the other lieutenants. She got lost in her thoughts, still as a statue, not participating even slightly in the group horseplay. She only lasted another hour before she stalked from the room, walk graceful and decisive. She could never be around other people for too long. Before it started to hurt.

*

Adam - Open, friendly, warm: odd, withdrawn, sardonic

Adam grinned, tossing an apple in the air and catching it one handed. It was a warm summer’s day, the type that felt like the beginning of a fairytale. There were birds singing, butterflies twitching through the grass. Soon Irene would have to go home and he would too, but for now they could just sit here and talk. Later, he would not be able to recall what they talked about, but in the moment it seemed urgent and vital. At some point, Marina put her hand in his and he didn’t let go, though his cheeks were pink and his heartbeat hammering.

Adam stood in the middle of the clearing, face impassive. The rain hammered down, plastering his curls to his skin. Strahd was in one her more frightening moods, pacing up and down, waiting for the messenger that would tell her exactly how successful her spies were. He was careful not to let even so much of a flicker of recognition go across his face when she said her name.

*

Othello - Happy, positive, loving; Aggressive, insincere, charming

His laugh was the sound of pure joy. He buried his face deep into his lover’s chest, the smell like the scent of home. Behind him one of his order wolf whistled, but the sound only made him laugh harder. The deva wrapped his arms tighter around the shorter man, pressing kisses to his temples every few seconds, so overcome with the love of existing.

Othello let the body drop, not even bothering to prevent the noise. If any of the innkeepers workers heard it and decided to make the mistake of checking up on him, they would be next. He wiped the back of his mouth free of the last few droplets of blood. He was sated, for now. But in an hour or so the boredom would return and he’d have to think of something else to amuse him.

*

Elsie - Innocent, strong, kind; quiet, untrusting, sarcastic.

Elsie pressed her hands between her knees, learning forward, eyes sparkling with interest. The priests were arguing about some point of theology she had never even considered before. She wanted to make notes but she didn’t want to disturb the flow by daring to move. Instead she listened, rapt, wondering if she would ever be able to talk like these enlightened priests. 

Elsie slammed Othello to the wall with a single hand, baring her teeth as though she were a cornered animal, her frustration only growing as he laughed at her. Her temper always seemed so close to the surface nowadays, threatening to boil over and burn those around her. She would fight it, but she didn’t want to. If people were afraid of her, maybe they would stay the fuck away.

[poeticpascal]

Is This Love?

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky goes into a coma after a mission gone wrong, where he is still conscious despite his body being completely unresponsive. Reader is a nurse looking after him and he falls in love with her despite only knowing the kindness in her voice and the softness of her touch

Warnings: Swearing; minor character death; mentions of Trichotillomania; some angst

A/N: Soooo this is so fucking long I don’t even know what to say, but I’m happy with it! A big thank you to the lovely @sweet-barnes for her support during the fucking nightmare that was writing this fic :’) any feedback is appreciated, my tag list is open, happy reading!

Masterlist 

Bucky was scared. Terrified. He tried to scream, move, but it was as though his mouth was sewn shut. He was frozen again. This was different, though. He could still feel, think; his legs were numb but everything else ached, burned, his screaming remained trapped inside his head.

“Mr. Barnes? Mr. Barnes, can you hear me?”

“Call him Bucky, he prefers that.”

The voices could be heard clear as day and Bucky wanted to sob because he just couldn’t find them. He was in complete darkness, his eyes shut too, refusing to open no matter how hard he tried. That was Steve’s voice, though. The second one anyway. Steve was here, he would help him. Keep him safe.

“Bucky, my name’s Doctor Owens. Try to stay calm, you’re perfectly safe here, I promise.” The voice was calming in a way, soft, and Bucky would have sighed if he could. “We’ve had to take you to hospital, Bucky. You were caught in an explosion which resulted in injuries across your body with more severe damage to your head and legs. As a result of your head injury your body has shut down and you are currently under a coma, so I’m just going to run a few tests and see how responsive you are. Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through everything.”

Steve’s voice became more distant, worry lacing his tone. “Why do you keep speaking to him? He’s- he’s- he’s not there! He’s not awake, why are you pretending he’s okay?”

“Mr. Rogers, please calm down. In some rare cases, coma patients are in fact conscious and able to hear and feel. The chances are small, however if Mr. Barnes-“

“Bucky.”

“Bucky,” the doctor corrected, “...is currently conscious while his body is unresponsive, we must ensure that he feels as calm and safe as possible. Many patients in that state can begin to feel highly distressed.”

Bucky knew his heart rate was speeding up, he could feel it hammering in his chest and the annoyingly loud monitor beside him was picking up, too. He was in a coma, helpless and useless to do anything other than lie there like a corpse, withering away on the outside yet enduring the pain of it in his mind. He willed himself to move, focusing entirely on just the tips of his fingers, his toes, the curve of his lips.

He remained still.

He wasn’t even breathing properly; he felt as if he were choking on the tubes that ran down his throat, pumping air into his lungs and forcing them to move because he couldn’t do it himself.

“Okay Bucky, we’re going to give you a scan, alright? We’re going to have to move you onto the machine so don’t worry, we want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

Where was Steve? Bucky could hear his own screams for him, echoing throughout his mind like a cave, he just couldn’t push them through his lips. Steve couldn’t have left him. He needed him there. Where was he?

Bucky felt hands on him, supporting his body as they lifted him, and he wanted so desperately to squirm. He hated this; he was just getting used to Steve’s hugs after months of working on it and now he had people he didn’t know touching him all over and-

A door slammed open. “Hey! Wait- no, you can’t do that, he hates it when people touch him!” Shouts of “sir, you can’t be in here” erupted throughout the room but Steve, and Bucky was so goddamn thankful that Steve was here, didn’t listen, running to his side and bending to his ear.

“Hey buddy, I’m so sorry, I know you hate this. You just gotta be brave, okay? We’ve just got to get through this-“

“Sir. Please leave, we need to begin the scan.”

Steve sighed, dropping his head. “They don’t want me in the room while they scan you, so I’m just gonna head out for a couple minutes, okay? But I’ll come back after that and get you settled in. Be brave, Bucky.”

Steve stuck to his word, though Bucky expected nothing less, placing him back on the stretcher himself and staying by his side as the doctors led the way to his room. He’d been there for just a few hours now, with his teammates surrounding him and muttering amongst themselves. Bucky hated it; it was like he wasn’t in the room with them. Clint had asked why Steve kept talking to him, though he just replied “he can hear me. I know he can.” And continued to tell Bucky about whatever he’d read in that day’s paper. Bucky didn’t particularly care for the news, but he appreciated it endlessly, Steve’s voice a comfort in the loneliness of his own mind.

“Hi, I’m really sorry but visiting hours are up so I’m afraid you guys are going to have to come back tomorrow morning.”

That voice was new. He’d never heard anything quite like it; it was so smooth, dripping into the air like warm honey and calming the fire in his veins. His mind grew quiet as he waited to hear it again, though the sounds of the team saying their goodbyes and Steve reluctantly doing so too, promising that everything would be okay, filled the room and he couldn’t find her silky tone beneath the noise.

Eventually, Bucky heard a soft click of the door from the other side of the room, footsteps following soon after. “Hi there, Bucky. My name’s Nurse Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N, if you’d like. I’ll be looking after you during your time here. Now, your friend Steve told me that you don’t like being touched, so I’m going to do my best to keep the touching to a minimum, and I’ll make sure to let you know exactly when and where I’ll be touching you, okay?”

Bucky wanted to scream, to tear his own damn hair out, anything to just move. This woman, this angel, had a voice like liquid gold and he could do nothing but lie there and let it melt into his ears.

“Okay, Bucky, I’m just going to start by replacing your bandages and cleaning up your wounds a little bit. I’m starting with your torso first, so I’m going to be touching there for the next couple of minutes.”

The heart rate monitor began beeping aggressively at this, responding to Bucky’s increasing anxiety. He heard Y/N curse beneath her breath, and god did he want to do the same. He tried so desperately to lessen his nerves, to quell the sickness in his stomach at the thought of being touched and not even having control over his body as it happened. He couldn’t, though, and instead he had no choice but to remain in his darkness and drown in the constant cries that hurt his head.

“That’s fine, Bucky, I know it must be hard for you.”

A warmth swelled in his chest, tight and comforting and unfamiliar all at the same time. How could she be so kind? People were disgusted by him; he saw the looks on their faces when he flinched or stepped away from them, hiding behind Steve and staring at the floor. He knew what they called him; a freak, a weirdo, a killer. He didn’t belong. She, though, she understood. She didn’t call him names, or judge him. Kindness laced her tone like sunlight illuminating the sky; bright and wonderful, beautiful.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help, I just don’t know how. Should we try again?”

You’re helping. Your kindness, your warmth, your soft words. You’re helping.

Bucky’s heart rate sped up again, though lesser this time as he concentrated on staying calm. He could do this. Everything he’d worked through with Steve, the therapy, the utter care Y/N treated him with, it all had to count towards something. He could do this.

Y/N hummed happily as she noticed the improvement too, smiling to herself and carefully lifting Bucky’s hospital gown.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Bucky. I’m going to get to work on your torso now but I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Bucky wished he could react as her fingers delicately removed the bandages from his marred skin. He wanted to run, vomit, scrub the feeling from his body. She was touching him, cleaning his wounds and talking him through everything. Amongst his panic, though, Bucky noticed just how gentle she was being. Every graze of his skin was careful as she made an effort to keep him as comfortable as possible. He focused his mind on just that; not the fact that she was touching him, that he couldn’t run or hide, just the softness of her touch and the sweetness of her voice.

Bucky Barnes knew beautiful. He knew sunsets, and skies painted with stars and oceans of never-ending blue. She, though, was beautiful on a level he had never comprehended before. She was stunning, breath-taking, more so than any sunset or sky or ocean. He’d be damned if god hadn’t put her on the earth himself.

And yet he couldn’t see her.

That didn’t make it any less true. He didn’t need to see her to know she was beautiful, inside and out. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if this was love, to be able to see so much beauty in someone that wasn’t built from lust or desire, but the glow of their soul. He hoped it was.

“Good morning, Bucky! It’s only 7 so your friends won’t be here for another hour or so, I’m just going to get you all nice and clean for them.”

Bucky smiled inwardly at Y/N’s voice, the light from the windows glowing yellow behind his eyelids. He’d been here for a couple of weeks now, becoming accustomed to his state, even the tubes down his throat didn’t bother him as much anymore.

“You’ll never guess what Cassie did today!” Bucky wanted to giggle, he knew his heart sped up when Y/N spoke. She talked to him often, whenever they were together in fact, rambling about a new restaurant she’d tried, or her dog Axl who she adored, or Cassie, a fellow nurse who always cut in front of her at the coffee machine. Bucky decided he didn’t like Cassie.

He couldn’t be more grateful for Y/N’s constant talking to him. Being trapped in his own mind like this was painfully similar to his time with Hydra; locked away, able to register everything and yet barred from speaking or moving or doing something. Even Steve had given up now, his visits reduced to nothing more than a “hey” followed by hours of silence. Sometimes, Bucky would hear him cry, and it made it so much worse that he couldn’t reach out and hold his hand and tell him it was going to be okay.

Y/N did, though. Bucky could hear her comforting Steve, telling him how brave he was and how Bucky’s strong, he’ll make it through this. I just know it. And, god, she was sweeter than Bucky could believe.

“You ready, Buck? I’m just going to prop you up and give you wash.” Y/N began to pull him upwards, struggling, and Bucky wished he could do more than lie still and let her take his weight. That was another brilliant thing Y/N had done for him; after working on it for so long, she could finally touch him without his anxiety spiking. Even now, she was so gentle, running a cloth across the expanse of his chest and beneath his arm. She continued to speak to him, telling him about her day, humming a song Bucky didn’t know but enjoyed anyway.

He knew now that he loved her.

It hadn’t taken him long to realise it; sunflowers bloomed in his heart when she was with him and his soul lit up like stars in the night sky, glowing despite the darkness around them. That, that, was love. He felt it in the sparks that followed her touch across his bare skin, in the echo of her voice that he played again and again in his head, clinging to the sound like a poor man does his last pennies.

“I’m telling you, Bucky, it was the cutest dog I’ve ever seen, not counting Axl of course, he’s the most cutest. I took a picture to show you when you wake up, and then- oh my god.”

What? Is she okay? Bucky felt concern growing in his chest as Y/N’s presence left his side. He ached to reach out, grab her wrist and pull her back to him, but within seconds she had run to the door and began to shout “Doctor Owens! Doctor!”

Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway before bursting into the room as the doctor ran to Bucky’s side.

“Nurse L/N, what is it? Is he ok?”

Y/N giggled happily, running to stand beside Bucky and grinning down at him. “I was talking to him, Doc, and I swear he smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was there, I saw his lips move myself.”

Holy shit.

Bucky had no idea. He hadn’t even registered the curve of his lips, too caught up in Y/N’s words and the feeling of utter elation they brought with them. She caused this, his smile, his first steps towards recovery.

“Oh, wow, that’s brilliant! Nurse L/N, please could you book an assessment for Mr. Barnes as soon as possible, have doctor Chang there too. I can’t promise this will mean a fast recovery, but it’s certainly a good start.”

“Of course, doc.” Y/N quickly ran out the room, almost running into Steve and the other avengers as she did, though her excitement didn’t die down. “He moved!”

“He- he what?”

“He moved, Steve, I saw it myself. It was just a small smile, but it’s something!”

Steve’s breathing sped up as he thanked Y/N and ran to Bucky’s side, clasping their hands together and smiling with tears in his eyes, looking up at the rest of the team. “He’s gonna be okay.”

And, finally, Bucky believed it.

“Morning, Bucky! Today’s the big day, are you excited? Oh I’m sure you are, it’s gonna be such a big step!” Y/N flitted across the room, arranging the flowers by Bucky’s bedside and opening the curtains as light flooded the room. She knew what the other nurses thought of her when they saw her speak to Bucky; they were convinced he couldn’t hear her, that she was wasting her time talking to an empty shell. Y/N knew, deep down, that was likely to be the case. But, if there was even a possibility that he could hear her, that he felt just a little less alone when visiting hours were over and the room fell quiet, then she would do whatever she could.

Following their assessment, the doctors had decided it was time to take Bucky off the ventilator and see if he could breathe independently. It was risky, and Steve’s hesitation had been clear, but there was only one way forward and this was it. Y/N sat on the bed and brushed Bucky’s hear, smiling to herself when a soft groan left his lips as she did. Over the past couple of days Bucky had slowly become more responsive, his fingers twitching just slightly and quiet noises escaping his mouth every now and then. It excited Bucky, too. His body was finally beginning to listen to him, he could answer questions with barely-there grunts and he could just about reach for Y/N’s hand, tauntingly unable to wrap his fingers around hers no matter how hard he tried.

“Right, Bucky, I think you’re all set. Doctor Owens and Doctor Chang are going to be here soon and they’ll get started on removing your ventilator; I’ll be right here too, so don’t you worry.” Bucky felt a smile creep onto his lips and he just knew that Y/N was smiling too, and the hope that maybe, sometime soon, he’d be able to see that smile for himself became just that bit more real.

Removing the ventilator went well, and Bucky was able to breathe by himself, glad more than anything to be rid of the tubes that he felt he was constantly choking on. Things had improved dramatically since then; he almost had full control of his right hand, and he swore he could have cried when he gently wrapped his fingers around Y/N’s, who immediately intertwined them before continuing to wash his hair. He even heard Doctor Owens telling Steve he hoped it could only be a matter of days before he woke up, the perk in Steve’s demeanour noticeable even to Bucky.

The team had left for the day, smiles on their faces at Bucky’s progress. Y/N wandered into his room shortly after, mumbling a “hey” and sitting on the bed to wash and change him. Bucky had noticed something was wrong all day; Y/N had been so much quieter than usual, barely speaking to him and when she did, her voice was distant and cold. He wanted so badly to figure out what was wrong, to comfort her, to help. Had he done this? Had the prospect of his recovery, the possibility that she’d have to meet him in person, scared her away? An uncontrollable cry left his lips, deafening to him and barely loud enough for Y/N to hear.

“I- I’m sure you know the routine by now, I’ll do your arm first, then your chest and back, then your legs, okay?”

Bucky forced a grunt, telling her it was okay, wishing he could ask if she was the same. Her hands, still as delicate as they had always been yet trembling against his skin, lifted his shirt over his head and began to wash around his arms. She held his wrist with one hand as she did so, stopping when Bucky used all his effort to move his hand downwards so that it held hers, clumsily locking their fingers together. Y/N paused, staring at their interlocked hands before a sob escaped her lips. She couldn’t hold it back anymore, allowing herself to cry, pressing her forehead against the back of Bucky’s hand which still held hers.

No, no, no- please don’t cry. Bucky screamed at himself, begging his body to just fucking listen and allow him to wrap his arms around her. This woman, this angel, was crying to what may as well have been a damn mannequin, with no one to comfort her, and he had never felt more helpless.

“I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“ Y/N sighed, attempting to dry her eyes on the back of her hand. “it’s just, Axl passed away yesterday and I- I’m never gonna see him again, a- and-” Y/N’s sobs tore through her throat and dissolved her words, replacing them with painful cries and whimpers.

Bucky felt it. He felt her pain, her sadness, the despair in her voice. It was taunting him, like a cruel joke that just wouldn’t end. The crying didn’t stop, the bed shaking with Y/N’s trembling and no, no, this was too much, her pain was too much-

Light.

It flooded his senses, blinding, painful as his eyes strained to adjust. He could do this, he had to do this, for her. Forcing his eyes open further with a strangled groan, Bucky turned his stiff neck to the side, his furiously blinking eyes landing on her.

Wide eyes stared back at him, round and glistening and the most beautiful colour Bucky had ever seen. His heart slammed into his chest, desperate to break out, to attach itself to hers and never let go. Every ounce of beauty he knew she possessed, all the kindness and loveliness and light that she exerted was embodied in flesh and blood and glowing skin that he wanted to glide his fingertips across forever. She was stunning, more so than Bucky thought possible, and he swore the world just stopped.

That is, until Y/N reached forward and pressed the alarm button above his bed, alerting Doctor Owens who came bounding into the room and stared at Bucky with just as much shock as she had.

It was chaos from then on, a blur; Y/N was ushered out of the room as more doctors piled in, glancing back at Bucky and smiling widely as she left the room. He was assessed all over, asked to recount his memories and read from whatever boards were put in front of him, though his mind was elsewhere.

After what felt like hours, Bucky was moved to a recovery unit, far away from Y/N’s department and he just wished she could be near him again; her presence was so comforting, her voice so soothing, his love for her apparent even before he’d finally laid eyed on her.

He spent a week and a half in the recovery unit, getting used to walking and speaking again, before being officially discharged. Before he left, he searched up and down the hospital, desperate to find Y/N with no idea of what he’d say to her. He finally ran into Doctor Owens, thanking him for all his help before stuffing his hands in his pockets and murmuring, “do you know where I can find Y/N?”

The doctor chuckled, patting Bucky’s back, “we’ve given her some time off, she’s been working tirelessly recently. I- I wouldn’t usually do this, but I think she’d be mad at me if I didn’t. Here.”

He handed Bucky a post it note with an address scribbled across it. Bucky gripped it tightly, like a lifeline, thanking the doctor again before walking out and smiling to himself.

Y/N sniffled, burying her nose in yet another tissue and and blowing, catching her tears as she did. It had been like this for the past couple of days; the pain of losing Axl mixed with that of knowing she’d never see Bucky again made her heart ache, a dull burn that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried. A gentle knock shook her from her thoughts as she stood, opening the door with a blanket wrapped around her sunken shoulders.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice, her eyes welling with tears again as they landed on him. He was here, at her door, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a warm smile on his face that was nothing like the one she’d seen in the hospital.

They stared at each other for what must have been moments but felt like hours before running forward and holding each other. Bucky sobbed wetly, chuckles of disbelief muffled by the skin of her neck because finally, finally, he could hold her.

And Bucky knew. He was more certain of it than he’d ever been of anything else in his life. This was love.

Tag List (Open):

@kapolisradomthoughts @vanessa-monique @krazyk99 @thefridgeismybestie @fireflyloki28 @gallifreyansass @laramitk @thisemopanda @captain-maaarvel @sireennotsiren @kindnesswins @saharzek @superxbarnes @ufffg @daryldamnson

[vantagx-archive-blog]

@echoingalone

    The pristine, white walls of the massive, but mostly empty castle are still largely unfamiliar to him, and he feels an eerie pit form in his stomach whenever he walks them - the sound of his armor clanking echoing through the hallways without the soft scrape of smooth shoes along the tile beside it.  And he can’t be bothered to recall the names to faces he couldn’t have cared less about (despite the fact that this gaudy palace was currently only called home by five other people and some strange, obnoxious and sorely invasive owl who had a habit of hanging around the anomalous girl who had dragged him into this plebeian excuse for an army). His lips remained, twisted into a stern frown, as he made his way towards the study - the disgusting hum of his godforsaken heart hammering away in the cavity of his chest to serve as a reminder that he’d been dragged from the bowels of Hell to play soldier in this inane world (while Rinea was still burning - or, perhaps, she had never been plunged down with the damned in the first place).     

          Heavy, plated boots filled the otherwise silent hall with a noise like thunder - cracking and humming against the brightly lit, dancing lanterns hung on either side. It hadn’t taken him long to memorize rooms, halls, and doors - after all, this miserable kingdom was little more than a pile of dirt compared to how grand and vast Rigel had been (even if the others may be surprised by how observant he apparently is). And the study stood out amongst the blander doors that were nestled beside it; it’s edged chipped away from use, but it was abysmal, at best, when compared to the daunting libraries and tightly packed shelves he had grown accustomed to in a world that felt so very detached from this one (and, perhaps, he longed to see how it had changed in whatever amount of time had tumbled by since his arrival here and death there). For now, though, he had others matters to attend to. 

           Gloved, armored fingers reach for the doorknob without hesitation, and he couldn’t have been bothered to knock - no that would have been an insult when he was the one doing this dreadful land a service. And with equal aggression, he yanked open the door without warning and marched inside, ignoring the rattle of the worn-down bookshelf as it trembled with the sudden bang of the door, and the tipsy desk sat in the center of the room filled to the brink with clutter - some of which had fallen off at his entrance. Without a greeting, he made his way over to the young woman seated on the wobbly chair (who appeared to have fallen asleep on a stack of old, dusty books - ugh how unbefitting for one of her status) in front of the dreadfully unstable desk, and slammed the palm of his hand down in front of her hands (nearly taking the desk down with the girl).            

        “If you continue to behave in such an undignified manner, you will surely be mistaken for nothing more than a servant, and an incompetent one at that.” Leaning back, but just ever so slightly he looked down on their supposed commander. “Frailty will lead to your untimely demise, now rise or suffer the consequences of your inadequacy.” Judging by the low light creeping in beneath the old curtains from the window in the very back of the crammed room (and the fact that everyone else also appeared to still be safely tucked away in their rooms) , it couldn’t have been past five in the morning. 

[harrison-abbott]

THREE TINY STORIES

 THEN BANGED INTO THE BATHROOM

She came into the flat when I was sleeping at some berserk hour and she knew I didn’t like it when she woke me up and I’d pleaded with her twenty times in the past to be quiet and when I awoke, or if I got jolted awake rather, I found it hard to get back to sleep because my mind has a manic continuous nature which often stays in memories and makes these patterns of thought and imagination and often it gets to bad I just give up and go take the dog or a walk or something … Anyway she was 34 and myself 35. And she still enjoyed going out with her mates and getting drunk and coming back deep in the dark and I didn’t really judge her that much for it because I used to enjoy all that party life myself and of course it was how we first started dating as students. It’s just that these days I found it tricky to keep up with the heavy drinking and so on so I often stayed at home. And then she stumbled, after she’d locked the front door, on the walls and I heard her body lumber down them which obviously meant she was hammered. Then banged into the bathroom. And she flushed the toilet after what must’ve been a very long pee because there were like two hundred seconds in between and then she left the bathroom and slugged back down the hall and very very quietly opened the bedroom door, stupidly not knowing that she’d obviously committed the crime again and she closed the door and I could see her figure in the dark and the only light in the room was from the internet, the lemon and cyan blue lights blinking. She took her coat off. And hung it on the door, and as she rustled I got the smell of smoke and alcohol and stale perfume. And she took off her jeans and I pretended I was asleep and I watched her body and those long legs I was lucky to know. Then she took off her blouse and her bra and she flung her bra away into the corner. And removed the socks and threw them in the same place. And I vaguely captured the contours of her breasts as she crossed to the bed and she sat on the edge of the bed and then undid her pants and then pulled her half of the covers back and moved in. Nestled in. Next to me. And I couldn’t be cross anymore. She didn’t touch me she just lay there, and unlike me she had a superb ability to sleep fast and deadpan.

 DEBT, INTEREST

I was in this horrific mood and had to go to work and I had some financial issues (debt, interest, historical debt) and even that morning the weather was especially miserable and I walked down the road feeling like shit … And, ehh, this neighbour who lived down the street whom I’d still never met in any social sense and didn’t know the name of came walking towards me with his dog. The dog was a tiny thing, a mix of breeds. But aggressive as hell. And it enjoyed barking at me whenever it saw me. I don’t know what its issue was. His or her dilemma – didn’t get why I attracted such animosity from this creature. And I did like dogs and used to own one. Which was far bigger. But yes anyway this dog was this morning off its lead and when it saw me it bolted towards me and began yelling with terrific verve. And the noise jarred my eardrums and I just couldn’t be fucked with it. … The owner – a beefy equally-depressed looking man – never really apologised for his dog’s violence: he only called it away and it usually trotted back to him. But this incident. This time, the dog actually began attacking me. With its claws and its teeth. And the thing was little and I was an animal lover and vegan and as it swiped and bit at me I tried to avoid it but it kept persisting and the owner hadn’t even said anything yet … and the depressing enormity of my life situation just made me snap, and I kicked it. Kicked the dog, just whacked it in the neck, and it squealed and tumbled over and went quiet and then it got up and growled at me, but it stayed there on the concrete and didn’t assail again. On I walked. I looked back at the owner to see his reaction. He was embarrassed, forehead down. That was the end of the fight. I’ll admit in a sadistic sense that I kinda enjoyed it, booting the dog. (Afterwards, when I got the bus stop, I was worried whether the dog was okay and that the owner might call the police or something and have me binned for animal cruelty …) But nothing ever happened again with the neighbour and that grunty dog. I worked out a fair deal with the debt people to pay them back in a gradual way and considering all that was happening across the world with climate madness and so on I learned to be grateful with what I had.

 SUPER CONFIDENT

She goes for this job interview at a corporate office and she’s feeling super confident about it and she has the credentials and the experience and she’d 29 and sexy and she’s also a lesbian. She goes for girls. And she gets to the office building – located in this elite part of the city, all grandiose modern flashy amazing. And greets the receptionist in the main atrium and explains she has the interview and the receptionist tells her to take the elevator up to this floor and she gets inside it and elevates and opens in a new place where the atmosphere immediately turns a little hot, whether she notices it or not. And she meets a new person at a new desk and she smiles and says, yes, your interviewer is just down the corridor in this room, and she goes down the hall and approaches this door and knocks on it and a female voice calls, “Come in?” and she opens the door and there is this horrifically beautiful woman with an enormous bust and comet indent eyes sitting inside there. And when she sees this woman she goes immediately stiff and tense and this big fat explosive blush erupts across her face. And the boss introduces herself and the blush is still there. And suddenly all this confidence vanishes within her and she finds it hard to look at this woman who is perhaps 35 maybe a lil bit older – Christ, Lord, she is glorious, and now she’s sitting in front of her and being asked questions and technically interviewed and she forgets her introduction and her cheeks twitch and her forehead is still hot and her voice tonality is lightened higher and she knows she is failing and she keeps falling and falling and looking up into this far-more-successful human she hates and berates herself and yet the other person, boss, figure, is quite kind to her, and when the interview finishes she is faintly hopeful she might get it, despite her blustery ditsy sexually awkward performance. … She waits two days. Then gets rejected with a mail list email.

[randomfandomimagine]

Supernatural Mission (Kingsman Halloween Imagine)

Requested by anon:

I'd love literally anything merlin-related you write for a halloween kingsman imagine. mostly i just think about them being sent in on a mission that ends up being legit supernatural. the reader and merlin are the only ones legit worried. which, like, fam, scottish folklore is NUTS.

A/N: I know this is short, mainly like the other Halloween imagines I wrote. But I wasn’t too inspired for any of them and it wasn’t easy writing like 5 imagines in just a few days so I had to rush over them. I tried to make this one actually tense and kinda scary. Hope it’s any good! 

Although everyone celebrated Halloween on the 31st October, for us it was nothing different. That day was another regular day for us, and so we worked as usual.

Even if outside the building kids were running around dressed as ‘scary’ things and laughing and running. Going trick or treating and eating their candy.

Us, on the other hand, were doing spy stuff as Kingsman. And it was only Merlin and me there, we had to take on a mission.

“Merlin, do you read me?” I whispered, tapping the earpiece.

“I do, Y/N” His calm voice replied.

I adjusted my glasses and took a deep breath as I proceeded to approach the abandoned building that was my target. It was ominous, especially since it was already night and everything around it was quite spooky. Only the lively environment of the Halloween spirit kept me from getting jittery.

My heart began hammering against my chest. I was glad that Merlin couldn’t hear that.

“Are you there?” He asked me, as though he read my mind and reminded me of his surveillance.

“Yes, I’m going in” I arrived at the door and took ahold of the door handle.

I had no idea what I would find there, what my missions was, exactly. All I was told was that I needed to explore that place.

“Be careful” Merlin reminded me, and his calm voice at least reassured me.

He had my back, it couldn’t be as bad as I imagined. Especially if Merlin was my eyes and ears in that mission. He would cover me.

“Here goes nothing…” I inhaled a deep breath before pulling at the door and opening it.

I could feel it as I walked in, it was no ordinary mission. Arthur mentioned something about being a ‘Halloween’ related mission, but it was Harry’s opinion that honestly got me worried. He had said he had heard about that place before and it troubled him.

When I voiced my concern to Merlin he brushed it off, being quite skeptical. I hoped he still remembered my thoughts on the matter nonetheless.

There was complete silence that added on to the eerie ambiance that oddly surrounded that place. My boots echoed around the long corridor as the door shut behind me and shut off any outside sound.

I slightly jumped at the sound of the door slamming shut, probably because of the wind. I gulped loudly, trying to remain calm and brave.

“See anything?” Judging by his tone, Merlin was not bothered by any of this.

Granted, he wasn’t actually there with me and was sitting in a safe office away from where I was. Yet he wasn’t startled by the obvious ominous place.

“Not really…” I let my eyes wander around, finding the building to be surprisingly empty. No furniture either, only empty rooms. “Nothing catches my eye”

“All this mission is strange” Merlin knew that Arthur just wanted me to investigate the place he had heard about so many times, yet something was definitely off.

“And you can’t feel this creepy aura” I shuddered, wondering what the hell was going on.

It felt like something could jump at me at any moment, so I rested my hand close to the gun in my belt.

I told myself that the presence I felt in that place was product of my imagination, just a consequence of my fear. But it wasn’t a human presence, and neither was it natural.

Everything about that place screamt supernatural.

“I have a bad feeling about this” Merlin mumbled, which wasn’t good.

As Kingsman, we allowed our instinct to take over sometimes. And if his instinct also told him something was wrong, it must have been because it was.

I stopped walking when the light over my head flickered. It had been on when I came in, yet all of a sudden it was failing.

I couldn’t contain myself as I squeaked in scare when it turned off all of a sudden, leaving me in complete darkness.

“Y/N?!” Merlin exclaimed in concern. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

I made a pause to take a few deep breaths and slow my racing heart before I replied.

“I’m here” My voice quivered, however.

I was never this scared during missions, even those in which I had to overcome some of my fears like heights. This was something completely different.

“I can’t see anything, what happened?”

“The lights turned off, Merlin, I can’t see anything either”

“You don’t have nocturne mode in the glasses, do you?”

“Nope…” I sighed in annoyance, really wishing they did.

How would we know that we would need them? The place was supposed to be perfectly well lit!

I was about to take another step, to keep on exploring, when something made me stop. I didn’t even have the time to take my phone out to use the flashlight.

“Merlin…” I whispered, wondering whether he heard it too.

Then a growl sounded somewhere in front of me. A guttural noise that seemed to come out of an animal, perhaps a wolf. But that, judging by its power, came from a very big wolf. Far too big to be a regular wolf.

I took my gun out and shot blindly in front of me, but the sound didn’t stop. It only intensified, as though it was getting bigger.

Or closer…

BAM!

A loud sound, of something heavily banging against something. As though a beast had lunged at its prey just to find an obstacle in the way.

“Merlin…!” I said, louder this time.

“What the hell is going on there?” He exclaimed, and I heard the sound of aggressive typing as I assumed my partner was trying to gather some information.

Then a sound that I couldn’t describe made me shudder again. I couldn’t tell what it was, because it sounded like nothing I had heard before.

All I knew was that it was coming closer. And closer. And closer.

My instinct then took over as my legs started moving without my consent. I didn’t’ think, I just acted. I turned around and quickly headed for the exit, not ready to stand there to face whatever it was.

To let it kill me.

“What the fuck was that?!” Merlin shouted as another horrible angry noise arrived to my ears.

This time it was a mixture between a growl and a moan. I had enough.

I threw myself to the door and pulled at it. It was stuck.

“NO!” A terror unlike any other before clutched to my stomach like an iron claw.

It was nothing compared to my Kingsman initiation, to other terrifying missions. This was irrational, harrowing.

“Y/N, are you alright?!”

“No, I’m not! Did you hear that?!”

“Well, get out of there!”

“I can’t! The door!”

“Kick it!”

Thankfully, Merlin remained calm enough to be the voice of reason and remind me that I was a trained Kingsman. I kicked the door as hard as I could and it finally opened.

The sound was getting closer behind me, I cringed as I waited for it to attack me. For something to hold me by the nape and pull me back, to attack me while my back was turned.

But I managed to get out of there before it could. I gasped as I closer the door behind me, the sound of my heart throbbing against my ears.

Even though the other sound, that supernatural growl, was forever etched in my mind.

“Y/N? Say something!” Merlin urged me worriedly.

“I made it out, I’m not going in again” I choked out.

“Hold on, I’ll get you” At least he seemed as freaked out as I was, I wasn’t the only one. “Stay right there, I will arrive in a moment”

Perhaps it was that I was in shock, but before I knew Merlin had arrived to pick me up.

His eyes were laced with fear and confusion as he positioned himself in front of me. We didn’t speak about the strange experience we just shared. We blamed it on Halloween and pretended like it never happened.

Instead of speaking up, he did something I would have never expected him to do. He hugged me to comfort me.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 7: Two Wrongs End in a Fight

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Sometimes good intentions aren’t enough. Sometimes no matter what there are always consequences to your actions.

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Even on opposite sides of the ring the Minotaur makes Cadence look almost comically small. Which is saying something for this height.

They circle one another; complete opposites. The Minotaur either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care that its opponent has changed. It beats hulking fists against it’s chest and lets out deep, intimidating huffs and snorts of it’s large bull head. Even with the metal between them those who end up behind the beast on the outside back off for their safety.

But it’s tactics aren’t working on the stony-faced vampire — it can tell. Ends up roaring louder and louder, so loud Taylor has to cover his ears with his palms and it still hurts.

On the outside Ryder pushes his way to Katherine with Taylor in tow. Growls out in a low breath; “What the fuck does he think he’s doing? He’s gonna get us all killed.”

Katherine snorts. “You’re not the one in the cage, Nik.”

“That may be but I gotta get the wolves outta here. Like, now.”

“Or what?” It’s enough to wrench her eyes away from the fighters and their posturing.

“I don’t know and I don’t wanna find out. But if Kristof’s boys find us…”

“Shit, he actually sent Pack into town?” Ryder nods and her grip tightens on the cage links. “Well — I — I can’t leave him, Ryder. Not now, especially.”

And if that’s his intention Taylor wants to stop that shit right quick. Grabs onto Ryder’s shoulder.

“We’re not leaving. Not until he’s out of that cage.”

“Stay outta this, Taylor. It ain’t your business.”

“Maybe not. But I don’t want to… I mean if we could help…”

Katherine throws him back a look. “You want to help?”

“Of course.”

“Then pick a god and pray.”

If Cadence is looking for any sign of an opening or weakness — the audience decides he isn’t allowed the luxury. One brave soul, pushed forward by other less-brave souls, jumps at the cage right as the Minotaur turns its back to him — slams his fists and rattles the metal with ferocity.

“Get to the fuckin’ fight!” he rages.

The Minotaur scrapes a hoof against the concrete — and charges.

The vampire dives away an inch too late — cries out when a strong hand wraps around his ankle and throws him across the cage like a ragdoll.

There was a phase Taylor went through early into his transition where he tried (the operative word) getting into things all young American boys are supposed to be into; cars, gym memberships, wrestling. None of them ever stuck — wrestling the most of all. There were healthier ways to work out aggression than mindlessly beating someone else to a pulp. Didn’t matter if it was ‘all staged’ or not. He’s not a fan of violence.

So when he watches those nearest where Cadence falls whoop and cheer and scream in his fallen face it takes everything inside of him not to look away in disgust.

Cade flips his messy hair out of his eyes — reaches to wipe blood from his temple with the back of his hand but only succeeds in smearing it into his locks. He tries to jump to his feet but can’t — lets out a cry and crumples to his knees favoring the right side.

“Get up!”

“Pathetic!”

“Someone bring in the wolf!”

Katherine looks ready to threaten a jeering woman next to her but instead uses her clenched fist to bang against the metal. “Come on, Cade! Set it and get up!”

And Taylor’s sure he’s not the only wide-eyed watcher as, as though she commanded it of him, the vampire stands and hammers his fist into his knee. Puts it back into place judging by the way he tests out the joint.

The Minotaur doesn’t take the time to relish its victory. Charges again but this time Cade’s ready — this time he’s waiting. This time he slides between the hairy hooves rather than trying to move aside and spins in the dirt to kick the beast in the lower back.

The Minotaur falls with a strangled noise. Catches its horns on the cage and wrestles itself out with mindless rage before whirling around and swiping its lowered head like a skilled swordsman would his blades.

Like they’re moving to the chants and calls for blood and gore as music, Cadence and the Minotaur dance around one another for what feels like forever. Every blow the creature lands is quickly healed on the vampire with only streaks of blood and torn clothes a reminder they happened at all. And while Cadence’s attacks on the Minotaur seem calculated and with intent they might as well be near misses.

But the Minotaur is smart. Smarter than it looks. And rather than letting Cadence form a gap between them to recover from a hook to the jaw it charges again, horns prone, and sinks deep into the meat of the vampire’s side before tearing away.

“CADENCE!”

Without even so much as a cry of pain he staggers back. Everyone else backs away; treats his wound like a plague rather than one made of their own selfishness and greed. Everyone but Katherine. Who struggles to try and fit her fingers through the gaps in the links. Like sheer force of will will press her through the space occupied by something else and bring her to him.

He collapses on his knees; she mirrors him without thinking. This time it’s Taylor who holds back Ryder from trying to pry her away. In retrospect he’s probably just concerned for Kathy’s safety around a wounded — no doubt starving — vampire. But something about the moment in front of them screams not to be interrupted.

Katherine’s hair obscures Cade’s face — so close they could be locked in a passionate kiss. He clutches to the hole in his side and his time the blood doesn’t stop flowing. Just another coat and color added to the already decorated concrete.

Taylor’s eyes fixate on the white-knuckled grip onto which the vampire holds the fence. Could swear it looks like the links in the rusting chain metal are starting to groan and bend under the pressure. Catches his rasping voice only because the anticipation of the inevitable kill and continued victory streak for their champion has his fans silent; practically on the edge of orgasm.

“Something’s happening, Kathy—”

Cade’s whisper sounds like a scream in his ears.

Katherine slowly — hesitantly — places her hand over his.

“Don’t fight it. Let it swallow you whole.”

“Let it…?”

“Swallow you whole, Cadence. Become it.”

“I — no — what if —”

“If you don’t you’ll die in here. And then you’ll never know the truth. You don’t want that.” And when he doesn’t respond; “I told you I’d be your last. Don’t make me a liar.”

Taylor wants to pull them apart. Feels somehow like the advice she’s giving is inherently bad — filled with unknowns and secrets he’s not privy to and probably for good reason.

There’s a fraction of a second where it looks like he’s given up — made a liar out of her anyway. But when Cadence pulls back and catches Taylor’s eye over the huntress’ shoulder he realizes almost too late how wrong he is.

Too late for him, for Ryder, for Katherine… Definitely too late for the Minotaur. Because it looked at first like this fight was going to be man versus beast. But the thing trapped in the cage isn’t a man at all. He isn’t a man at all.

He grins mouthy and fanged like he can read Taylor’s thoughts. Something cocky and righteous; no trace of the previous pain.

The tense rope of silence finally snaps to thunderous applause when the Minotaur goes in for the kill. Yanks Cadence back like it’s just going through the motions of the finish of the fight. Picks him up and hauls the smaller form over his head to let it shatter on the ground.

Only he doesn’t. He never collides with the floor.

Instead lands nimbly on his feet; dusts himself off like there isn’t a hole of gore in his side and his shirt isn’t half torn off. Takes the stunned expression on the Minotaur’s face to right himself with a gentlemanly scrutiny.

The shock wears off quickly — literally shaken aside with a huff of displeasure and confusion and twitching bull’s ears. It doesn’t know what happened. And for once it isn’t alone. But it knows so little about the world — knows only what it’s been made to do.

So it does what it does best. It charges.

The hoof raises but Cade’s already across the ring. Several jabs to the chest of the beast; ribs and around the back to the spine. Just like before, Taylor realizes — perhaps too late, only somehow different.

Before a hit sent the Minotaur stumbling. Now it doesn’t take a goblin’s heightened hearing to catch the crunch and crack of the broken spine that follows.

Over and over he moves faster than the Minotaur — and the crowd — can see. Too fast for his body to heal; judging by the cage-front watchers and the flecks of blood on their faces and fancy coats. If Taylor didn’t know better — and who knows, maybe he doesn’t  — he’d swear the vampire is enjoying his victory. Playing with the Minotaur like a toy.

Prolonging the inevitable.

In a final violent act a white-knuckled grip grabs on a horn and yanks hard enough to throw the entire weight of the creature off-kilter. A fallen feather in a hurricane.

The Minotaur lies in a slowly growing pool of its own blood. Spreading into the grooves left by charing hooves and fallen opponents and pooling in an abstract tale of the first and only defeat. The metallic smell is awful; pungent. Makes Taylor feel nauseous.

He’s pretty sure even Minotaurs shouldn’t be able to bend their arms the opposite direction at the elbow.

And in the corner; Cadence. The broken horn a trophy of victory in his grasp.

He stepped into the cage to try and right a wrong — Taylor understands that. But now… now he’s not so sure what’s left standing. What did Katherine do to him?

An unnerving silence ripples out from the victorious vampire. Spreads out to every soul watching as he walks calmly to the cage entrance. Katherine only has to gesture before the announcer is fumbling with a strange set of keys.

The Taylor from before all of this strangeness would have chocked up the thin shimmering veil that dissipates around the lock when a key slides home as nothing but heat or a trick of the light. The Taylor of now isn’t so sure.

Two bouncers rush in and around Cadence — look to each other for answers on how to go about dragging the Minotaur from the ring. Obviously something they aren’t quite used to. They end up grabbing one furry arm a-piece and drag with all their might.

Cadence keeps a tight grip on his prize even as Katherine coaxes him out. When she tries to hand him back his things he doesn’t seem to recognize them — not until she pulls the golden earring from some unseen pocket.

That he takes — pins back in place with careful precision. As though his hands aren’t stained in another creature’s blood.

“We’re leaving.” Katherine snaps at the announcer. Holds up a sharp nail at the end of a ‘not taking your shit’ finger and presses it to the man’s gaping void of a mouth. “Keep your prize money. And tell Lady Smoke what’ll happen to her next champion… to ensure there isn’t one.”

Though her confidence is unwavering, the hunter still looks back to Cade as if to ask ‘is this what you wanted?’ And hopefully she can take his silence as an agreement. Because it’s all they’re apparently getting out of him.

The Nighthunters exchange silent conversation that ends in a single curt nod; joined as if by a thread.

Nik wraps an arm around Taylor’s waist — jerks his head for Cal and Donny to follow as he starts ushering them through the crowd before it awakens.

“We’re gettin’ outta here.”

Taylor throws a look back to the pair. Watches Katherine throw Cadence’s jacket over his broad shoulders. “But…”

“No, Rookie. Not this time.”

“Nik, if you just —”

“Let it go.”

“But —”

“Let. it. go.” Clenched teeth, a squeeze on his shoulder. He’s not kidding and isn’t taking no for an answer.

He’s about to let it go. Really, he truly is.

Then he sees a distinct and familiar type of full-arm glove reaching to wipe away tears from a familiar type of face. Finds himself lurching out of the safety of Ryder’s closeness and pushing through until the cage stops him — just an obstacle but enough of one that he grasps the rusted links in his clutches and tries to part them like they’re gossamer threads.

“Vera!”

Behind him he knows they’re calling for him — “Taylor!” and “Rook!” and “Hey!” — but they don’t matter.

“Vera!” Rattling the cage like just another man losing his life savings on a bad bet. “Vera! Hey Vera! Over here! Vera!”

She’s real — wasn’t a fever dream. She was real and they abandoned her outside the cemetery but she also knew; had to have known something. Why else wouldn’t she have joined them in their fearful delirium? Why did she say what instead of who?

“Vera!”

She knows because she’s here. Here in this wonderfully hidden monstrosity of a place. She knows because she’s hidden in this secret world just like he is and that means she’s far more responsible for what happened to Kristin than he is.

God, she fucking knew!

“VERA!” Taylor slams his fist and rattles the cage. Catches a dip in the volume of the place just enough for her to peek between her delicately gloved hands and catch his eye. All the people in the place and she sees him.

Yeah, she should look scared.

Her name like an incantation falls a flat consonant when he’s wrenched back by Ryder’s strong hand. Forced to turn away from the undeniable proof he didn’t even know he was looking for to look into a different kind of proof. The kind in Ryder’s stony eyes.

“What’re you doing, Rook?” — because apparently that nickname is gonna stick — “Is it Opposite Day and no one decided to tell me? Do I gotta tell you ‘hey, let’s stay and grab a game of Blackjack’ for you to — Taylor! I’m — Don’t you run away from me!”

But he is. Is already done with hearing Ryder’s complaints because Vera’s just over there and does she know about Krissy and move so I can get to her.

Only he makes it about three-point-two steps in that general direction before Ryder’s tugging him back; this time without verbal argument.

“No—Nik no you don’t understand—Nik she’s —”

“Who?”

Who, indeed. Certainly not Vera, because there’s a gaping hole where she was standing just a moment ago that’s slowly being filled by increasingly rowdy patrons.

She’s gone.

They wrestle over ownership of Taylor’s shoulder until he gives up. Huffs and stops moving which is enough for Ryder not to manhandle him and actually pay attention to his sudden episode.

“Did you see someone?” Finally, only now it’s too late. A useless question.

Taylor’s sigh is so heavy, so damn heavy; he feels the weight of it all the way down into his soul.

“I thought… no, no I guess I didn’t.”

And of course now, when it’s pretty much the definition of too late, Ryder actually starts believing him; looks ready to question it until Taylor passes him by for Cal and Donny.

They were supposed to abandon Katherine and Cadence — not the other way around. But the crowd is still stunned enough for them to take advantage and slip away.

Away and to a service elevator the wolves sniff out from the shadows. An elevator that’s only two doorways from the almost holy taste of fresh air. Humidity or not all it takes it one breath to be a hundred times better than the stale smell of blood and sweat from down below.

“Would’a been convenient to know about this shit getting in…” Ryder mumbles — keeps it to himself so as not to spoil the rare moment of joy between the Lowell brothers as they have a proper reunion in mutual freedom.

But Taylor sees it as the gesture it is, knows for a mouthy guy like Nik it took a lot of restraint to keep that to himself, and gives him a gentle elbow of ‘I’m proud of you.’

“Now we know for next time.”

“Ha, next time,” Cal stops grinding his knuckles into Donny’s hair, “well there definitely ain’t gonna be a next time if I have anything to say about it.”

It’s a comment aimed directly at Donny. Lucky for him the boy gets it. “Right there with you, Cal. Thanks for… you know.”

“You’re my Pack and my blood, Don’. Like I was gonna let anything happen to you? We’re in this together.”

“You sure are.”

Octavia’s voice pierces through the night; makes it feel just as confining as the cage ring.

Ryder holds both hands up in surrender and Taylor doesn’t have much of a choice but to join.

Because Octavia’s part of the Pack, too. And the Pack came with.

There’s no closed doors this time around.

Kristof’s gathered the Pack around a large bonfire behind the hunting cabin. Whatever goes down; it goes down in front of everyone this time.

Octavia shoves Cal and Donny on their knees in front of their Alpha. It hasn’t rained in days but the bayou leaks into the earth, here. Stains their jeans with mud.

Ryder’s held back but has just as little freedom — held still with a preternaturally strong grip on the back of his coat collar.

“No, him too.” Kristof barks. Stops the Pack member from lumping in Taylor with the rest of the onlookers. He obeys without a second thought and pushes him to face whatever wrath is sure to come.

Cal throws a look back his way with a pained expression. “Come on, Kristof, he’s got nothin’ to do with this,” he argues — almost pleads, “hell even Ryder ain’t to blame. I bribed them to take me to Donny.”

The Alpha inhales through flared nostrils; deep and purposeful and noisy.

“Last I checked a bribe weren’t the same as holdin’ a knife to their throats. They knew what they were doin’.”

There’s a second where Donny looks ready to try and join in but one look from Cal sets him straight. Let the adults talk.

Taylor throws Nik a look. Is there anything we can do?

No, says the look he gets back — the smallest twitch of Ryder’s head back and forth, just watch and wait.

One raised hand from Octavia and the Pack goes dead quiet. No, not just the Pack. The entire bayou — every cicada, cricket, even the whistles of the willow vines. The entire bayou watches and listens.

“I don’t even know where to start with you Lowell boys,” when Kristof finally speaks it’s heavy and sigh-ful like a parent, “both’a you come to me for help and then both’a you do the exact opposite of what I tell you to do. So I’ll just ask this; am I your Alpha?”

He knows the answer. The best Taylor can figure is that he asks it to prove a point. It’s a bully tactic. Makes him want to call the man out on it — instead he just hopes there’s more to this Pack thing than he understands. For Cal’s sake at the very freakin’ least.

The Lowell brothers answer just a second out of sync.

“Yes, Kristof.”

“Of course.”

“Could’a fooled me!” His shout ripples through the whole Pack in shivers and shuffles.

Cal courts danger and chances a look up.

“I couldn’t just take a walk and do nothing, Kristof.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“He’s my brother! My kid brother—my blood brother!” If there’s more he wants to say he bites it off the tip of his tongue.

Kristof just shakes his head. “No no, see; I hear you Lowell. But what I’m hearin’ ain’t what you’re sayin’. ‘Cuz what I’m hearin’ is that you didn’t trust me to bring him home.”

“That’s not what I said —”

“Isn’t it, though? You came to me because you were — rightfully — worried about Donny.” — how they can keep talking like Donny isn’t right there is beyond him — “And I told you I’d do everything I could. Not just for you, and not just for my brother. But for the good’a the Pack.”

Octavia, up until then a stoic guard, curses something in French under her breath and rubs the back of her neck.

Whatever he’s said is enough to rile her — but leaves Taylor feeling like he blinked and missed it. Has him trying to piece together some of the puzzle until Kristof makes it easy on him; continues.

“You boys know family is everything to me — just like it was to your Pop. Weren’t no chance I wasn’t gonna take in my own blood when he passed. You know that. But one thing he always understood — the thing you boys still don’t have drilled in those thick skulls a’yers — is that no matter how important blood and kin may be when it comes to bein’ the Alpha the Pack has to come first. It has to.”

As the realization settles over him all Taylor can think is that he must have a thick skull, too. Because he definitely doesn’t understand how Kristof — how Cal and Donny’s uncle — can do this; Alpha-schmalpha.

Cal and Donny, Taylor and Ryder, Octavia and the rest of the Pack wait on bated breath for Kristof to continue. Continue justifying his choices, continue by handing down a sentence — does it matter?

It’s for the sake of the brothers Lowell that he hopes the Alpha’s hesitation is, in some part, because he’s at war with duty and family.

Instead Kristof jerks his meaty chin up; fixates on Octavia. “How much damage did they do?”

“Not much from what we could tell,” she sounds almost relieved, “and the few goblin recruiters we managed to corner made it sound like it was someone else who did all the dirty work.”

The weight of the Alpha’s frown lands on Cal all at once. “Puttin’ us in more debt around the community than we already are?”

“Ah — no, actually — if I…?”

Ryder actually waits for permission to speak. As if pigs have taken flight around the world.

Octavia nods. “Go on.”

“The Pack won’t have to worry about that, is all I’m sayin’. There were other forces at work; independent ones. They were holdin’ Smoke’s debtors in cages, Kristof.”

“Cages?” It’s the first time they seem to address Donny — takes him a breath to notice before he nods so hard his head might fall off.

Ryder continues; “Now, be mad at ‘em for all you want, but I think the one thing we can all agree on is that shit ain’t right no matter what you owe.”

“No; no it ain’t,” — there’s a ‘but’ coming — “but that don’t excuse what you did—what both’a you did. Donny, pup, thinkin’ a’yer kin’s all well and good but good intentions didn’t do much good in a cage now did they?

“And you, Cal… you made yer grave. Time to lie in it.”

Taylor throws Ryder a panicked look. It’s just a metaphor, right? Even so it’s a bad one to use at a time like this. Especially when they both very well could have ended up in the grave had they fought the Minotaur anyway!

“Wait —”

He doesn’t need to know the finer details of Pack mentality, though, to know that when Cal stands that’s not the thing to do. Makes the gathered wolves stir restlessly; the Alpha and the Beta growling at the act of defiance.

Cal seems to be done baring his neck in silent acceptance; in cut-off explanations he knows won’t be listened to.

“I’ll take both our punishments.”

“Cal no way —” Donny’s voice cracks; Cal uses it to cut him off with a hand to stay him down.

“Don’, shut up.”

Kristof isn’t forcing his nephew back down. He’s not actually going to listen… is he?

“I’m listenin’.”

“The way I see it — mercy would be banishing us both from the Pack. I get it Kristof; I do. But he’s just a kid—a pup. He needs a Pack to grow up with, not grow up in spite of.”

“Some might say he needs blood kin more.”

“Yeah well…” Cal rubs the back of his head, “he’ll have you for that, won’t he?”

“Are you tryin t’say you don’t need the Pack, Lowell?” Octavia scoffs behind him. Draws his gaze back — where it lands not on her but on Taylor. Where it stays.

“No, but there’s a future generation to think of.”

Donny tries again but knows there’s no use; a half-whispered “please Cal…” punctuated by shaking shoulders and the near-silent ‘boys don’t cry’ sniffles of youth.

There really isn’t any use. But the Alpha shifts on his workman’s boots. Maybe he’s a little glad to have the weight of decision taken off his broad shoulders.

“If that’s yer final decision.”

“It is.”

“Then there ain’t a home for you here with the Jensen Pack, Cal Lowell. And I don’t think I gotta tell you what’ll happen if you find your way here without my say-so.”

Taylor doesn’t know what to think. Tries in earnest — looking around at the Pack — to find someone just as dismayed by this as he is. Someone with the balls to step forward; to say something.

“The same goes for you Nik-fuckin’-Ryder, and yer nosy little mortal, too.” The barest hint of remorse is gone when Kristof addresses them. All that rage from the beginning of the night bubbling back with one look and a low growl. “You stay the hell away from me and mine. There ain’t a friend for you here.

“Get out, and take the stray with ya.”

The Alpha’s disgruntled return to the cabin is all anyone needs. The Pack disperses in hushed discussion. Octavia pushes past Cal like he’s — well, like he’s Nik — to help Donny up with a far gentler demeanor.

The kid doesn’t waste a second standing to rush into Cal’s waiting arms. They hug with the same ferocity, the same desperation. Reunited hours earlier only to give one last goodbye now.

“It’s not fair.” Only realizes he’s said it aloud when Ryder gives a squeeze of his shoulder.

“No; it isn’t.”

Octavia gives the Lowells as long as she can. And whatever it is — fear or duty — it’s enough to make Donny unlatch himself from Cal without much resistance. The arm she throws around his scrawny shoulders isn’t possessive. Cal even looks a little relieved.

“You got ‘til the moon’s under the trees to pack a bag,” she tells Cal.

He shrugs it off. “Won’t need that long. Just…”

They both look down to Donny rubbing his runny nose with his sleeve.

In a rare flash of emotion, the Beta’s face softens.

“He’ll be taken care of. Go on — get.”

And Cal doesn’t need very long at all. Emerges from his trailer with a single duffel slung over his shoulder and a paper bag clutched in his fist.

Before Ryder can even kick off from the side of the mobile home Cal shoves the bag in his hand. “Your Hunter’s Sage.”

Ryder doesn’t look inside; doesn’t have to… or maybe he just trusts Cal at his word finally.

“Thanks.”

“A deal’s a deal.” His shoulders heave in his sigh as he turns to Taylor; looks ready to maybe give some sort of a goodbye. Only Taylor won’t have it.

“You ready?”

He blinks. “Ready for what?”

“To come back with us —” holding up both hands, “— and don’t even try to say no. I’m sure Garrus wouldn’t mind putting you up.” Well, no, he doesn’t really know at all. But judging by the emptiness of the Shift those rooms upstairs don’t exactly have a waiting list.

This is all his fault anyway. Somehow; it just is.

Cal’s protest is stuttered, almost wordless. He looks to Ryder like the fellow loner might back him up but gets only a shrug — nothing to make his case.

“Cab’s waitin’ off the edge’a the property.”

Luckily (though it may be tied to a defeated mood, the more Taylor thinks about it) Cal doesn’t argue. Just nods and follows along with his head held high.

Well until they cross the pergola marking the Pack’s territory — then he tries his best not to let the others know he steals a glance back.

Taylor notices; pretends he doesn’t. Just ‘accidentally’ bumps Cal’s shoulder with his own to help him put one foot in front of the other.

[milknkookies]

In your medical AU, has Lukas ever had to take care of Mathias when sick before? If so, how did that go?

Sorry this took so long…

—

Generally, Mat does not get sick. He also does not like to admit that he’s sick at all, if he happens to catch a cold. He usually powers through his minor illnesses without complaint. However, if he gets sick enough to keep him bed-ridden, he is a whiner. He is unable to sit still for extended periods of time, so when he’s forced to, it grates on him.

In recent years, Mat has been lucky enough only to get minor sniffles in the wintertime; he tries his best to takes care of himself before illness befalls him.

That is not to say, though, that he does not get himself into situations where he needs care. His superhero mentality gets him into trouble, usually for a good cause, but trouble nonetheless…

Lukas was making his rounds one afternoon when he looked up and accidentally caught the eyes of one of the receptionists – she was on the phone and quickly looked away, hunched over as she spoke into her headset, like she didn’t want to be overheard. She glanced back to at Lukas a few times, shrinking further into her seat every time they connected eyes.

When Lukas finished his chart notes and wandered over to investigate, she squirmed under his questioning gaze, but held his eye contact. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearing her throat and chewing on her lip.

“What is it, Rebecca?” he prompted without ceremony.

Rebecca squirmed and looked to the other girls sitting behind the counter, all of whom ignored her and offered no assistance. She cleared her throat again and barely got the words, “violent patient in the ER” and “Mathias” out of her mouth before Lukas took off at sprint.

Violent patients could mean any number of things, from a frightening story to tell to your friends later, to fatality. With Mathias involved and the expression on Rebecca’s face, Lukas could only assume the worst. He neglected to wait around for more details, and he entertained the idea of going back to his department while he repeatedly pressed the elevator call button. Where was it? Was it normally this slow?!

The elevator finally arrived and Lukas allowed himself a brief sigh of relief, which was quickly ripped away from him when he realized how slowly the doors shut; the car begin to move to the floor below at a snail’s pace. Once he was on the main floor, the beige hallways leading to the Emergency Room felt like they went on forever, their length ever increasing with every panicked footfall. He ran through a mental checklist of common injuries inflicted by patients: stab wounds, broken bones, blunt-force trauma to any area of the body, needle-related injuries… The Emergency Room housed many people of questionable hygiene from all walks of life, and a needle stick could mean a lengthy testing process and possible blood born illness as a result.  It was not wholly uncommon for patients whose minds were in the throes of a drug-induced high to become aggressive when approached by anyone in a white lab coat, Mathias not excluded, even as a surgeon. He was much too interested in his potential patients, not waiting to be summoned to the OR, but hanging around open spaces to scope out situations that he may be able to assist with.

Why couldn’t he be like other surgeons, living out their entire lives in safety, under the lights of their OR?

Lukas burst into the Emergency Room, was pointed into the direction of one of the examination rooms, and he crashed through the door without knocking.

“Lukas!” Mat said happily, pushing himself into a sitting position, “what are you doing here?” He grinned at Lukas, his bottom lip fat and bloody. He smiled so big, he was likely unable to see out of his swollen left eye, an ugly bruise already darkening around it. There was a gash across his cheekbone, half stitched up by a startled Dr. Karpusi, who stood three feet away from Mathias with his hands raised in surrender.

“Mathias – you – what on earth happened?”

“Nothing!” Mat said, leaning back down on the examining table, likely hoping Lukas did not notice the wince of pain through all the swelling. “You should see the other guy!”

“The other guy is asleep due to a very potent sedative,” Dr. Karpusi said helpfully, returning to Mathias’ side and inspecting the gash he had been stitching closed. “Which I will administer to you if you do not sit still. I could take your eye out.”

Lukas sank into one of the chairs in the room and watched, unable to speak. His heart was still hammering in his chest; Mathias was fine, he was alive, he did not look to be infected with any weird diseases, and judging by his squirming legs he was able to walk just fine.

“Quit moving,” Dr. Karpusi muttered, leaning over Mat, “you are a terrible patient.”

“It hurts, Herc,” Mathias whined. Lukas leaned back into his chair and stared at the drop-tile ceiling, lost in thought, listening to the two argue over how much stitches hurt to receive. He ignored them both, letting himself sink into the relief that his idiot fiance was fine, not seriously injured, and would still be around to bother him as normal. He was not sure what he would have done if he had lost Mathias again. He already loses him some nights, when the nightmares become too real and Mat is inconsolable, reliving his memories like they are happening to him all over again. If something in this hospital, their home away from home, were to be the thing to rip Mathias away from him… he didn’t want to think of it.

He shook his head and blinked his thoughts away; Mathias was sitting up on the bed and grinning at him, Dr. Karpusi watching out of the corner of his eye, pretending to write on his prescription pad.

Lukas cleared his throat, “Yes?”

Both Dr. Karpusi and Mat began speaking at the same time, Mat much louder and trying to drown out the soft spoken doctor as he unmistakably said, “don’t let him work too hard with those cracked ribs.”

“I’m sorry, cracked ribs?” Lukas scowled at Mat, “Mathias Kohler, you had better tell me what happened this afternoon, or I will ask someone else to give me the story.” He lowered his voice to a threatening tone and let Mathias fill in the blanks. He did not appreciate secondhand stories involving his fiance.

Lukas led Mathias out of the exam room, carefully navigating their way through the hospital, avoiding crowded hallways. Lukas was not blind to the way Mat winced when he took too deep a breath, or the slower pace in which he walked.

Mathias hesitantly told Lukas what had transpired that afternoon. A patient had come in, delirious due to unknown causes, speaking in short sentences that only half made sense. During a routine examination, his behavior had suddenly changed.

“Lili was the one checking on him,” Mathias said emphatically, taking a moment to catch his breath, gingerly holding his side, “she’s the one of the ones from the university doing her practicum in our emergency room. She’s really quiet and sweet - I think you’d like her, Emil-”

“Mat,” Lukas said sternly, “the patient.”

“Right! Well, he suddenly snapped and went crazy. As soon as I was paged, I ran and only got there just in time. He already had her in a choke hold!” Lukas made a noise of astonishment while they slowly made their way to his office, “anyway. I went in and got him off her and here we are!”

“Mat,”

“Okay, okay, don’t look at me like that,” Mat paused again to lean against the wall for a moment before continuing, “so I get in and get this guy off her. Not before he shoves me into one of the carts and, before I could get up, he smashed a fuckin’ tray across my face and kicks me in the chest.” He laughed, “well, that made me mad. I jumped on him, we wrestled a bit, and then one of the other nurses swooped in him and doused him with a sedative.”

“Jesus, Mat,” Lukas sighed, opening his office door for Mathias, who shuffled inside with a cheeky grin plastered across his face; Lukas rolled his eyes.

“No big deal, babe,” he sang, “I’m just a hotshot hero!”

“You’re an idiot.”

Lukas nudged Mat towards his couch and helped him sit down, Mat’s hand gripping on to Lukas’ the only confession he made that he was in pain. Lukas fixed Mat with a look that dared him to get up again before turning away to close the blinds on the windows of his office. Mat sighed.

“He took a couple good swings at me, landing at least one,” he licked his swollen lip, “and tried to get me in the gut with a pair of scissors, but I grabbed him by the wrists.” Lukas shook his head as he joined Mat on the couch, pulling Mat to lean against him. He ran his fingers through Mat’s hair, coaxing him to relax and calm down, hoping to draw out the excitement from the afternoon and lull him into some semblance of a nap. Mathias never napped if he could help it; he was too energetic.

Mat hummed, “you’re worried about me,”

“Yes.”

“Don’t be,” he shuffled so his head was in Lukas’ lap, looking up with wide, shining eyes, still smiling that cocky smile that made him look like he was in control and nothing ever frightened him. This wasn’t true, of course, lots scared him. But, in this moment, Lukas was almost inclined to believe that smile, that all was well… He said, “I’m fine, honestly. Just a bit sore.”

“You have cracked ribs, a fat lip, a black eye, and stitches on your face, Mathias Kohler.”

“Ah, nothing serious, then! I’ve been through worse, muffin.”

The petname grated on Lukas and he tried to stop the sigh of exasperation from escaping him, to no avail. Mathias laughed, then groaned in pain.

“You are going to go home and rest this afternoon, Mathias,” Lukas said, “when I come back from my shift, I will make you dinner.”

“Will you draw a bath for me?” Mat wiggled his eyebrows. “Tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?”

“No,” Lukas said firmly, still running his fingers through Mat’s hair. Mat laughed quietly and closed his eyes, humming happily, settling in to rest for as long as the Pediatrician could keep him still. “Maybe,” Lukas ceded, leaning forward to kiss Mat’s forehead gently.

…Lukas does make Mathias dinner and draws a bath for him (and lights candles and and makes a whole thing of it) and tucks Mat in for bed (and himself, though he reads in bed before he can fall asleep). Mat starts snoring almost the moment his head hits the pillow. The next day he refuses to let Mathias do anything and is rather loving and adorable.

The day after that, however, Mat has proven that he is fine and things go back to normal.

[captain-yeet]

Oh No, He’s Hot (Felix Volturi x Reader)

Summary: You were a special kind of human. You had the power of Thor himself, so you provided help with Victoria’s newborn army when they came for the Cullens. One thing you weren’t expecting, was to meet your soulmate.

Notes: *slams fist on the table* There isn’t enough Felix fics in the world so help me I’m gonna fix that because I’m actual trash let’s GO (I also posted this on AO3, this is part one of this fic)

Warnings: None.

You had a lot of close calls during the fight. You got tossed around like a ragdoll, one time hitting the ground so hard you landed wrong on a branch that cut your arm pretty bad. Which only brought on more hungry, flighty Newborns your way. One of the cons of being human was that you couldn’t react as fast as your vampire friends during the battle.

But, you made up for it with your power. When you first arrived in Forks a couple months ago, you were being attacked by a vampire. You were running through the forest that you were camping in, terrified and panicking while this rogue vamp chased you, clearly enjoying themselves. They caught up to you eventually and threw you into a tree, breaking your leg. As they approached, you raised your hands to shield your face, screaming.

All you remember after that was an electric feeling rushing through you, a bright white light, the sound of thunder, followed by screams. All you remember before passing out from exhaustion was a pair of golden eyes looking at you.

Carlisle was the one who found you, and brought you back to the Cullen’s place to patch you up. He for one was a bit dumbfounded by your powers, as was the rest of the coven. At first, they thought it was a weather manipulation power - which in part, it was. But then Alice had a vision the revealed more; you were no regular human. The extreme stress you were under due to nearly dying and having your leg broken triggered an old, ancient power in you. You had full control over lightning, being able to summon it at will and affect the weather in your immediate area.

Emmett jokingly began calling you Thor due to this, and then the nickname began to stick. While you learnt how your new powers worked and healed from your injury, the Cullens had practically taken you in as one of their own, Carlisle and Esme quickly becoming parental figures to you.

So here you were, a rip-off God of Thunder, fighting desperately and aggressively against being more physically powerful than you.

You were currently in an intense wrestling match with one Newborn, who was desperately trying to get a bite in. You held their wrists in each hand, struggling to keep them off you. You were exceptionally strong for a human, which you concluded was part of your “fake Thor-ness”, as you’d called it once. Red eyes glared into your Y/E/C ones, enraged and bloodthirsty.

Growling, you channeled the electricity in your veins through your arms, your eyes now glowing a bright, almost white-ish blue colour. The Newborn’s eyes widened in shock before his screaming began as he was being electrocuted. You grinned manically and got to your feet, never letting go of the Newborn’s arms. You watched as his skin began to crack in multiple places, eventually giving way entirely.

Two more Newborns approached you, ready to avenge their comrade. Concentrating hard, you let go of the one you were frying and crouched low before jumping high into the air, a current of lightning following you. Raising your fist and with a piercing scream, you hit the ground with a clap of thunder. The lighting surrounding you hit the two vampires, a chain like effect taking place. The force of the lightning coursing through them was so intense they cracked and crumbled before your eyes, parts of their limbs turning black before quickly dissolving into ash.

Taking a breath, you got to your feet and looked around you. The last of the Newborns were being thrown into a nearby pyre. Rosalie, Esme and some of the wolves who were helping in the fight were watching you with wide eyes.

You’d practiced with your power before, but this was the first time anyone had seen it in full force.

“You doing okay there, Thor?” Emmett called out, throwing the last piece of a Newborn he was holding into the pyre and joining Rosalie.

You nodded. “Yeah, just a bit winded!” you replied back, grinning.

Esme flitted to your side. “Y/N dear, you’re bleeding,” she said softly, inspecting your bicep where you were cut.

You gave the kind motherly vampire a reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” you replied. “I’ve have worse.”

You were pretty beaten up. A bruise was beginning to form on your left cheek, and blood gathered at the corner of your mouth. The adrenaline however was high, so you barely felt the pain in your face.

Esme wrapped an arm around you and lead you back to the others, who were discussing something in hushed tones.

Bella and Edward had rejoined the fighters, who filled them in on everything that happened. Edward was both astonished and impressed with your power after reading the thoughts in both Esme and Rosalie’s heads. One young Newborn surrendered, and was currently being watched over by Jasper.

Things were not quite over yet, however. A rogue Newborn managed to injure one of the wolves badly.

“You need to get him out of here,” Carlisle spoke urgently to the leader of the pack. “The Volturi won’t honour a treaty with the wolves, and they’ll be here any moment.”

The pack leader, who was now in his human form along with the rest of them and the injured boy, nodded and the group began to transport their friend back home.

“What about Y/N?” Rosalie asked, coming to your side. Surprisingly, the two of you got along quite well, which surprised the coven and Bella equally.

“It’s too late to get her out of here,” Edward replied, wrapping his arms around Bella. “She has to stay, they’ll smell her scent here regardless.”

Your heart skipped a few beats. You weren’t quite ready to face the infamous Volturi guard. As Rosalie gently rubbed your back reassuringly, you took a deep breath and readied yourself.

The Cullens stood in solidarity as four cloaked figures approached them, you noted they had a sinister vibe about them in the way they carried themselves. Rosalie positioned herself in front of you, so you were partially obscured by her and Esme. You could only just get a slight look at them as they lowered their hoods - three guys and one girl.

It was the red eyed girl who spoke. “I’m impressed, it’s not often a coven survives an attack unscathed of this magnitude.”

“We were lucky,” Edward replied coolly, his face betraying no emotion.

A humorless smirk appeared on the girl’s face. “I doubt that.”

You take a moment to study each of the red eyed vampires closely. One was lean, with clothes that you couldn’t decide on whether they were fashionable or ghastly. Maybe a mix of the two. The man - well, boy, next to him had an innocent looking face, much like the girl’s, save for the red eyes. They looked to be no older than 15, which made you sad. The fourth vampire was extremely tall and bigger built than his companions, the muscle of the group, you concluded.

Very attractive muscle, you couldn’t help but think, your mind going south as you blatantly checked him out.

Edward spared you one fleeting glance as if to say “Please stop.”

You shot him a shy cheeky smile.

“It appears we missed a rather entertaining fight,” the boyish vampire mused.

“Yes,” the girl replied, her smirk disappearing. “It’s not often we’re rendered unnecessary.”

Then her eyes landed on you. Your heart began to race as a cruel smile graced her face.

“My my, it appears you’ve let another human in on our secret,” she said with a slight bite to her words, alerting her companions to your presence. “Come forward, human.”

You looked to Rosalie frantically, who put her hand on your shoulder, along with Esme. “She is of no danger to the exposure of our kind,” she argued in your defense, “leave her be.”

Her words did not affect the girl, who you now assumed was in charge of this group. However it was the leaner male vampire with the questionable clothing who spoke next. “Let us be the judge of that.”

You took a shaky breath, running a hand through your battle messy Y/H/C hair. “It’s okay, I can handle it,” you whispered to the blonde vampire next to you. With that, you took a few cautious steps forward into eye-shot, heart hammering away painfully in your chest.

All eyes were on you now.

“Who are you?” the blonde red eyed vampire demanded, now glaring at you coldly.

As afraid as you were, you kept your gaze high, meeting her glare. “My name is Y/N,” you stated clearly.

“And what business does a human have consorting with our kind?”

Your eyes nervously darted around, measuring up the others’ reactions. The leaner vampire looked curious, the boyish one merely bored. The fourth however, was watching with great interest. You could feel the tall vampire’s eyes burning a hole into your face the longer you stood there. “I came to assist the Cullens in their fight against the Newborns,” you informed her, fists clenching tightly at your sides.

The girl let out a “Hmph” noise.

“She speaks the truth Jane,” Carlisle interjected, watching both you and the Volturi carefully. “She’s a gifted human.”

“And pray tell us, what are your gifts dear Y/N?” the boyish vampire asked.

You looked back over your shoulder, locking eyes with Edward. I have no choice but to show my powers, don’t I?

He slightly nodded, just enough for you to know that he heard you.

Turning back to face the Volturi, you took a deep breath before cautiously raising your hands, palms facing upward. The faint sound of thunder rumbled faintly as your hands lit up with the lightning within you. You kept your gaze steady as your E/C eyes turned from their natural colour to the glowing blue that came with using your abilities. Their reactions amused you; Jane and her group took a slight step back, red eyes wide with varying emotions across the group - shock, confusion, wariness and wonder.

“You seem to have a habit of collecting gifted young ones, Carlisle!” The leaner one called out, an amused look on his pretty, gaunt face.

You let your powers subside, the lightning and thunder toning down and your eyes no longer glowing.

Suddenly, Edward let out a strange bark of a laugh.

Jane took issue with his outburst. “Is something the matter, Cullen?” she asked, spitting out the surname.

You and Bella shared the same expression of what the ever loving fuck, dude? as you looked at her boyfriend. He shook his head before replying, baring a bitter grin. “It’s amusing, how part of your intention was to check to see if my mate was still human, when one of yours has just found a human mate himself.”

Everyone looked around at each other wildly, confused and alarmed.

You also shared this assessment. “I beg your bloody pardon, Eddy?” you asked as calmly as you could, glaring at the golden eyed man, the language earning a chuckle from Emmett.

He gestured to the tall vampire of the group. “Why don’t you share with everyone, Felix?” he challenged.

All eyes shifted to Felix, who was slightly growling and looking remarkably uncomfortable. You stared at him, holding your breath waiting for the answer.

“It’s true,” he admitted in a low voice that you could barely hear.

“What?” Jane hissed, her bright crimson eyes narrowing at the vampire twice her size.

He avoided her gaze, instead choosing to look at you. “I feel the mating pull towards her.”

A few hisses erupted within the clearing, along with a couple growls. A cold pair of hands grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back, with a glance you saw it was Carlisle who had a carefully contained look of worry on his face. Your head spun back to stare at Felix in shock, mouth slightly open.

“This is… unexpected,” Jane broke the growls and hissing with a bored voice. “We will have to consult with Aro for further course of action. But know this, Y/N,” she added, looking directly at you with a burning calm fury. “Gifted or not, you’re still a human who knows of our kind. You won’t stay human for long, you can count on that.”

You raised your head a little. Okay I may be freaking the fuck out right now but I won’t let her scare me. “So be it,” you began calmly, “but please, don’t try to intimidate me with petty threats, kid,”  you said the last word with a slight growl, which took you back a bit.

Jane stepped forward with the pure intent of teaching you some manners her way. The boy to her side and Felix put a hand on each of her shoulders, stopping her. “Let us continue with what we came here to do,” Felix reminded her, his red eyes darting from her angry face to your barely-contained fearful one. Did he just save my ass?

Jane smiled for a second, collecting herself before turning her attention to the Newborn Jasper was standing with. “You missed one,” she pointed out, the happy glint in her eyes disturbing you to no end.

Son of a bitch he did save my ass.

While the Cullens did try to reason with Jane and argue for the Newborn girl’s life, it was pointless. The Volturi members had made up their minds, and with that, Jane ordered Felix to dispose of her, stating that she wanted to “go home”.

You watched as he strode forward toward the poor girl, who was still recovering on the ground after Jane used her terrifying gifts on her. He yanked her up from the ground roughly, and you had to close your eyes when the screams and sounds of a vampire being torn apart began.

When they stopped, you opened your eyes and found Felix finishing disposing of the Newborn girl’s remains. When he was done, he met your horrified gaze with a look on his face you couldn’t quite place. The two of you stared at each other for a while, almost as if you were studying each other’s features closely An absent thought of oh no, he’s hot briefly crossed your mind.

You couldn’t tell how you were feeling - you’d just found out that the vampire you just watched decapitate a poor young girl was apparently your soulmate. How does anyone react to that?

“Felix,” Jane called out, an underlying warning in her voice.

With one last once-over of your face, he rejoined his group, and the Volturi disappeared into the treeline and out of sight. You let out a shaky, sobbing breath and fell to your knees. “What the hell just happened?”

[scribblesofababyvet-blog]

After days of threateningly ominous looking clouds hanging over Jaipur, the rain finally came and we were blessed with a full day of the “wet stuff” we Brits try desperately to avoid. As a result, I was soon to discover my little apartment was in desperate need of plastering as a number of small leaks sprung up to create my very own indoor water feature. The fun continued as I was sat on the toilet minding my own business when plaster from the roof began falling on my head, which I think even in India is a bad sign!

The rain did not dampen our spirits as I was due to go out with the camel vet, a very cool character called Dr. Swami. He was incredibly well educated and spoke brilliant English so conversation was easy and entertaining. Though it became clear that I would be the entertainment for most of the villagers while on the ambulatory clinic. When we pulled up in a lay-by at the side of the road ( a seemingly India appropriate place to host a veterinary clinic) a steadily growing crowd of people gathered until, they were actually blocking the majority of the busy highway. I naively thought it was the camel vet causing all the fuss but Swami pointed out that it was in fact me! So I unwittingly became quite the pasty celebrity for the day and everyone wanted me to treat their camel (despite me knowing nothing about them except that in Hindi they are called Uuht). I managed to had a full conversation with one man in Hindi getting by with furious nodding and hand gestures alongside the few phrases I actually knew, which he seemed very impressed with and Dr Swami found hilarious. The camel owner was jabbering away at me and gesturing to his camels eye which even to my untrained eye I could see was very sore and I just kept nodding and saying Hann (which is yes in Hindi), Swami then passed me the eye drops and I popped them in the camel’s eye gave the fellow the rest of the bottle and he looked incredibly pleased, shook my hand and went on his way.

The villagers were very generous with their chai and I actually think I may have drank my weight in it! Dr Swami said that my presence had a lot to do with the intense generosity of the villagers which I found myself feeling quite embarrassed about and felt a little guilty about not paying. Nonetheless, people kept bringing more out for me every time my cup was empty, Swami said I had clearly made a good impression! Camels, I discovered are funny things as, unlike horses and donkeys they are never fully tame. Only the bulls are used for pulling the carts and during their mating season can be incredibly aggressive and dangerous. Not only can they kick with all 4 feet, they can swing their neck like a battering ram and they have terrifyingly sharp canines. Apparently in breeding season the camel owners wear giant turbans so if the camels bite them, they bite the turban not their heads which I think is pretty clever really!

The camel clinic was incredibly well run, they gave out halters in replacement of nose pegs for the younger camels or if nose pegs have to be used they gave small plastic ones which were much cleaner than the wooden ones commonly seen, they gave out reflectors for the back of carts to reduce road accidents at night and they gave monthly wormers and tick treatment, all for free. It was a very pro-active, preventative approach that I have to say I couldn’t fault, the camel team worked with the locals to give the best welfare for their camels and they were respected and trusted by the people. I feel this was definitely reflected in the fact that an average non-working camel lives 25 years while the working ones live to around 20 which are pretty good stats in the grand scheme of things.

That evening we went to Chokki Dhani, meaning ‘special village’. This was a fake Rhajastani village where tourists could go and experience different aspects of the state’s culture all in the same location. We took Ranjana, who seemed like she was long overdue a girl’s night after spending her days surrounded by the men from the compound who she wasn’t really allowed to socialise with. Her father kindly offered to take us/ chaperone us so we couldn’t sneak out clubbing instead and we met up with Ella and two of her housemates – a Spanish brother and sister who seemed to prefer their own company to ours. Chokki Dhnai itself was truly beautiful, there were numerous extravagantly painted huts, each with something going on in them, there were lanterns everywhere lighting the way and men and women swanning around dressed in traditional outfits, glittering from head to toe in extravagant jewellery. Fantastic smells wafted through the air from the numerous stalls of free tasters of Rhajastani fare and elephants and camels wandered past with their Mahouts carrying giggling tourists. The whole atmosphere was really something to behold.  We first wandered over to a puppet show where a very punch and judy-esque performance ensued. However, then things did start to take a twist away from the usual when one of the puppeteers began balancing various things on his head, chin and in his mouth which we all found very impressive but I did find myself wondering how someone discovered they had such a useless but entertaining talent? Next we went and watched some of the traditional Rhajastni dancing, we spent a large amount of time trying to figure out if one of the dancers was just a rather ugly woman or was in fact a man….. It turned out that in Rhajastani tradition men dressed up as women to dance (sounds a bit odd to me but who am I to judge how someone chooses to express themselves). Well those fellas could certainly wiggle better than we all could, which was later proven when volunteers were asked to join them on stage and we all got up to have a dance. In the village centre was a large gong which was attracting a lot of tourist attention, men were showing off their brute strength all competing to make the biggest noise and hold the (genuinely rather heavy) hammer the highest above their heads. We all couldn’t resist and had a go too and laughably us girls put a lot of the men to shame!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Dinner was served in traditional Indian fashion; bare foot, on cushions on the ground. I have honestly never seen so much food in my life! We had a traditional Rhajastani Thali (basically tapas) where the waiters came around an extraordinary number of times piling your plates high with multiple styles of japhatti and naan, different curries and sauces (garlic chutney was an absolute favourite of mine I must add), finger food, pastries and rice. It was incredibly exciting to try it all and most of the food was absolutely delicious though admittedly there were a few things that did not suit the western pallet. First was curried water (it basically tasted like incredibly strong sea water with cumin thrown in) which was absolutely vile. Another unusual drink was chatch which was buffalo buttermilk, this also had an interesting texture and to us, kind of tasted like slightly off milk but Ranjana swore would give you the best night sleep after drinking. The final clash of cultural palates came from a dish called citcheri which was basically a green vegetable dhal, which was all well and good, nothing unusual there until they came and dumped a table spoon of sugar on top, this texture was incredibly strange to us, as was the taste and it’s not one I think I could ever get on board with!

After a bit more wandering (or should I say waddling by this point) around with incredibly full stomachs we came to the Bazaar which we thought would be extortionately priced (as many tourist traps are in the UK) but we were pleasantly surprised that it was really rather cheap! After picking up some bling which turned out to be a tremendously complicated process ( the man we gave our purchases to added them up under the supervision of another man who then took our money, we then had to march across the bazaar to a little hut where a man with a cash register sat and the whole adding up process started again with more counting and spectatorship, then we paid this man who gave us a receipt which had to be checked by another man and then FINALLY we were allowed to leave ) as everything in India seemed to take time and be incredibly longwinded, we finally got picked up by our chauffeur (Ranjana’s dad) and went home with a number of funny photos to commemorate our journey.

That evening as we crept back into the compound we went to get water from the dispenser (the only trusted source for the sensitive stomachs of the westerners) and literally nearly fell over a man who was spread out across the porch snoring his head off! I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the fact that Indians seem to be able to sleep anywhere and as many people wished to stay with their animals while they have treatment it was common place to see unidentified individuals snoozing around the compound first thing in the morning. This fellow though was the first one I nearly tripped over!

  Some photos taken by Beth Dixon :)

An Evening at Chokki Dhani After days of threateningly ominous looking clouds hanging over Jaipur, the rain finally came and we were blessed with a full day of the “wet stuff” we Brits try desperately to avoid.