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mellowswriting · 5 years ago

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Cuddling

**This was the most requested headcanon and I had so much fun writing it! Enjoy!!

Mando:

There were many things Mando didn’t realize he was missing out on until he met you. Basic things, like a healthy eating and sleeping schedule or having someone to just exist with in his ship. But the first time you curled up against him with your head tucked into his neck and one arm tossed over his chest… well, he was damn glad it was pitch black in the bunk so you couldn’t see how red his face had become.

How had he missed out on this for so long? The skin on skin, the feeling of your heartbeat and slow, peaceful breathing… having you in his arms is absolute heaven.

Once he realizes just how much he loves cuddling you, Mando will pull you against him literally whenever he wants. He loves pulling you into his lap when he’s piloting, especially when you straddle his thighs and just snuggle right into him, chest to chest. The amount of times he’s slung his arm over your shoulder and tucked you into his side while you sat in some cantina makes you automatically slide closer to him without a second thought.

He doesn’t really have a favorite way to cuddle you - anytime he has his hands on you is a good time - but he does particularly enjoy the post-sex, hazy cuddling. Your hands wander in the darkness, your fingers trail down his sternum and over his belly, along his ribs. It almost tickles, but your touch feels so damn good. The warmth of his skin against yours, still sweat slick and sensitive, soothes a need deep inside him to have you close and safe.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Frankie is a very hands on lover. If it isn’t the all-encompassing press of his entire body against yours, he’s at the very least got one hand on you somewhere. He’ll pull your legs into his lap while the two of you are sitting on the couch together, curl one hand over your inner thigh while he’s driving and singing along to the radio in his truck, tuck his hand into your back pocket while you’re out in public together.

But if he had his way, Frankie would just crush you into his bed every second of every day. He’s the type to wrap his arms around you and tuck one leg between your thighs and just… hold you close. It’s one of the few times where his mind can go peacefully blank, all his worries and stress falls away and the only thing that he can focus on is the warmth of your skin.

Frankie loves either almost or completely naked cuddling. As much skin on skin as he can manage, and this man is in heaven.

He prefers to spoon you, to wrap you up in his arms and bury his face in your hair. He can feel your breathing, every shift of your body in your sleep, and on the nights where he can’t sleep, it’s easy to ground himself with the line of your entire body against his.

Another thing about Frankie? He’s possessive. Not in a demeaning way, but it’s just that… you’re his, just like he’s yours. The boys rib him about it hard, too, but it doesn’t deter him. Frankie will still pull you into his lap and latch those greedy hands onto your thighs or ass with a shrug. No shame with this one.

Javier Peña:

Ugh. This man.

For someone who claims not to love it, he’s an amazing cuddler. He presses kisses all over your shoulder, face, and neck, rubs his hands over your arms and thighs in soothing circles, and just… holds you. Tight and firm against his chest, which rumbles so nicely as he mumbles about anything that pops into his head as he tries to fall asleep.

He grumbled the first few times but once you get situated against him, good luck getting away. The few times you’ve tried to get up to pee or get water always results in him pulling you closer the second you start to wiggle away and almost whining when you finally break free. If you give him a few kisses and promise to come back to him immediately, he’ll let you go. But if you’re gone longer than a couple minutes, he’s coming to find you and drag you back into his bed so he can snuggle you and fall back asleep.

Javier would never admit it aloud let alone ask for it, but he wants you to lay on him. Like, full on, chest to chest, your face tucked into his shoulder and your legs tangled with his. The full-body press of your weight against him is beyond calming and every time you do crawl on top of him, he could just tear you apart. It’s such an intense feeling, it explodes in his chest and all he can do is wrap his arms around you and dig his fingertips into your soft flesh.

Ezra:

After a long and exhausting day of harvesting, Ezra loves curling up with you. His body is aching, his mind exhausted, and you provide a solace that can’t be found anywhere else. He loves to lay his head on those soft thighs of yours and doze while you read or tinker with whatever metal you’re trying to fix.

It’s impossible for him not to hold you or be held by you in some way. If you sit down next to him, he’s pulling you as close as possible, as if he’s trying to meld the two of you together, consume you, make you his entirely.

These are the times that Ezra really feels like he doesn’t deserve you. You’re so...soft. So giving. So gentle. Ezra doesn’t see himself as a good man. The exact opposite, actually. How could he ever deserve so much good? He only whispers those fears to you in the dead of night, when all has settled and the only sounds are the steady whirring of pod’s the air filters and you’re practically on top of each other on the cot only meant for one. You just hold him as he speaks, running your fingers through his curls and resisting the urge to interrupt him. He deserves to get it all out.

But once he’s done. You whisper your praises right back to him, pausing every few words to kiss him anywhere you can reach; his cheeks, his lips, his neck, his chest. You tell him how much you love him, how admirable his hard work is, how funny he is, how his voice drips like honey with that drawl that gives you shivers. He’ll hold you even tighter, something you didn’t think possible.

Marcus Pike:

PERFECT BOYFRIEND ALERT

However you’re willing to cuddle him, Marcus is there and ready to goooo!!! He lives for those early morning, groggy moments where he’s just woken up and the very first thing he sees is you, your face slack and peaceful with sleep, a bit of drool collecting at the corner of your mouth. If he’s sure you’ve gotten a good amount of rest, Marcus happily kisses you awake and keeps you in bed for as long as possible. It feels so natural, it has from the very beginning.

Marcus is the type who knows what he wants, but his previous heartbreaks have him hesitant in that sureness. The first time he woke up with you on his chest like that had been entirely unintentional. Neither of you had meant to fall asleep, obvious by the fact that he was still in his slacks and you in your jeans, and Marcus didn’t want to intrude or be presumptuous, so he tried to slip away. You woke, of course, and he tried to apologize, but you just smiled at him and said, “You’re so warm. Get back over here.” Marcus was in awe as you began unbuttoning his dress shirt, muttering about wanting him to be comfortable. Once he was down to his boxers and you were down to your tank top and underwear, you just snuggled right back up to him. You rubbed your cheek on his bare chest as you settled in and it took Marcus’s breath away. That was when he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life like this with you.

And he makes good on that every single day.

His favorite place to cuddle is in his bed. The plush mattress and soft blankets make it even more comfortable to lay with you for hours like he wants to. Marcus loves spooning because he can touch you all over; he can hold your hand, rub your thighs, grab onto your ass. Plus it’s the perfect way to wake up when you playfully grind against his morning wood.

But the ultimate position? Your legs over his shoulders, his head leaned back towards your belly. It’s his favorite way to prop his head up to see the television as you lean against the headboard and read a book, the two of you simply enjoying each other's presence and warmth.

Max Phillips:

Fuck, you’re just so fucking warm and soft and Max cannot get enough. His body temperature isn’t frigid, just a few ticks below normal thanks to his undead status, but it’s enough to be able to notice a difference. You warm him up better than any steaming cup of coffee or heavy blanket ever could.

That’s why he straight up lays on top of you. Max ignores your grunts and annoyed sounds as he clambers on top of you and buries his face in your neck. He can hear your pulse, smell the sweet, delicious smell of your blood, and feel your warmth like this. You’ve practically got a purring vampire on your hands like this.

Max loves to feed off of you while he snuggles and I refuse to believe otherwise. He gives you the puppy dog eyes even though he really doesn’t need to beg. The sight of you sweeping your hair off to one shoulder is enough to have him squishing you into the mattress and burying his teeth in your neck.

He’s even more handsy when he’s practically drunk on your blood. Max is 100% gonna try to fuck you while he feeds off of you.

Pero Tovar:

Pero didn’t really know the simple pleasure of curling up with someone he loved. He knew fucking, usually a utilitarian visit to a brothel to ease some of the tension that plagued him. That wasn’t the kind of situation he stuck around to cuddle afterwards. You show him, though.

The first time you turned over to lay your head on his chest, Pero didn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. He kept his hands raised with his elbows propped up on the mattress and stared down at you with his eyebrows furrowed. Eventually he lets his arm settle over your shoulders but that’s as far as he goes, not yet realizing that he can find comfort here.

Slowly but surely, Pero begins to find solace in your embrace and once he learns that it makes you feel safe and loved, he can’t get enough. He craves it, the feeling of your body pressed against his under the blankets of your shared bed, the way you rub his calves with your feet, the contrast of your soft, supple skin against his scarred body.

He’s a nuzzler, especially when he first wakes up. He loves to rub his face against your neck and shoulder, especially since his facial hair makes you giggle and squirm against him. It’s a delightful, bright sound and the perfect way to start his day. It can be difficult to convince either of you to get out of bed to tend to your daily chores. Yes, the firewood needs to be cut and there are clothes that need mending, but a few more minutes spent in each other’s arms won’t hurt, right?

Maxwell Lord:

Not gonna lie, the first few times you were in Maxwell’s bed was not for soft and sweet purposes and there wasn’t any cuddling happening afterwards, either. No, it was always hot and heavy sex followed by snatching up clothes and leaving with a wink and the promise of ‘see you next time’. It was therapeutic, the mutual stress relief of meaningless sex.

Until it suddenly wasn’t so meaningless.

That first time Maxwell woke up in your bed had been entirely accidental. Both of you were absolutely exhausted before he fucked you into your mattress, so afterwards you were dead to the world. He was only going to close his eyes for a few minutes, but then he woke up with his chest pressed against your back and your hair in his face and why the fuck wasn’t he panicking. He feels like he should be panicking. But instead, the soft rise and fall of your chest was mesmerizing. Maxwell blamed the fact that your breasts were still bared for his greedy eyes and shook it off.

The second time, though? Maxwell found himself needing you there. The last time the two of you had sex, you had left his penthouse with a lingering kiss and a satisfied smile that had pride burning a hole through his chest, but he couldn’t fucking sleep. So when you sighed and swung your legs over the side of his bed, Maxwell’s arms wrapped around your waist and dragged you back to the middle of his huge bed.

“It isn’t safe for you to be walking around at night, you can wait until morning.” But you could see through his convenient excuse right to the vulnerability in those pretty brown eyes. So you laid right back down and couldn’t help but smile when Maxwell’s arm hesitantly fell over your waist. The way you melted into his embrace made Maxwell pull you flush against him and bury his face in your hair.

That morning you woke up to Maxwell getting dressed and what a sight that was. The moment he realized, he left the room and returned a moment later with a coffee from your favorite cafe. He was almost bashful when he shrugged and said he had it delivered so you wouldn’t have to rush out. You weren’t bashful about dragging him back into the bed, though. Ever since then, it was an unspoken and expected comfort.

Maxwell likes spooning. He feels like he’s keeping you safe with his body curled around yours. And if you’re entirely naked against him, he’s even happier. All of that bare skin for his greedy hands…

He also loves laying his head on your chest. You always play with his hair (you’re the only person he lets do that, too) and it makes shivers dance along his skin. Again, bonus if you’re naked but there’s no guarantee that he won’t tease your nipples until they’re pebbled and sensitive.

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emily-the-fae · 4 years ago

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Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 6. The Devil's Hospitality

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

And I am back from celebrating the summer solstice. Mosquitoe-bitten, red-haired and with a new chapter. Thanks for following the story if you still are, I'm very sorry that editing takes me so long. (STILL IN NEED OF A BETA). So yes, please enjoy and like&reblog&comment, because interaction with readers makes me extremely happy. Also please write in comments if you want me to tag you so that you don't miss the new parts.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: none, a little bit of death threats and the usual tuberculosis part

"Maps used to say there'd be dragons here. Now they don't, but that doesn't mean dragons aren't there." ~ Lorne Malvo, "Fargo"

Shari began to open her eyes hesitantly, slowly when nothing rushed at her in the first few moments of her presence inside the castle. The healer was still extremely tense, ready to jump aside and try to fight off anything that tried to attack her. Nothing. Dark, still, terrifying, but also quiet and…empty. Lisa hadn’t told her a complete lie. Apparently, Dracula wasn’t home. Shari looked around the dark place she found herself in - she was standing in the middle of an enormous hall, columns going way up, she needed to raise her head to see the gothic arcs of the dark ceiling above her; two large round marble staircases in front of her led to the opening on the second floor and behind that space she could see a darkened entrance to an inner corridor. Shari could hear nothing but her own heartbeat and Rodo's husky breathing, the silence was almost ideal, her own quiet breathing echoed around the wide halls - the castle appeared to be completely empty, apart from her, Rodo and her ghastly companion. Lisa seemed frozen in awe for a while, looking around too, but with a kind of familiar melancholic look on her face - staring once again at the place she had spent so much time in must have felt odd. Odd and slightly painful. All the memories of her life, all the “what if”s of her never leaving this peculiar home or never finding it in the first place rushed in, frustrating her for a few moments. The ghost quickly recalled she needed to keep collected – for the sake of her new guest and the adventure she was planning ahead.

- Wait, Lisa! - Shari rushed to her side, afraid to be left alone even for one moment. Rodo hopped behind her easily. - We will go and grab books, yeah I get it, but... How do I... Where do I rest? I mean I need a bed and preferably next to a chimney and then after I wake up, I can study through whatever we need and search for whatever other materials I can need, sure, but I'd there... I mean it's kind of a vampire castle... - Shari trailed off and in a moment she was coughing again, heading to the supposed library entrance, but barely seeing her way.

- That is quite funny of you, - Lisa responded, when Shari quieted down a bit. - To be asking me if you can have a normal bedroom in a vampire castle, especially since you know I've lived here for quite a long time.

- Yeah and married the host, - Shari argued breathlessly.

- What do you think vampires sleep in?

- Coffins?

- Don't be shallow.

- Well, sorry if didn't live with them for twenty years and didn't realise they may as well use beds... - Shari hesitated. - They do, right? Because if you were implying that you want me to sleep in your old room, then thanks I'd better sleep on library floor.

- You'll take one of the guestrooms, - Lisa rolled her eyes. - And you have to get there soon, otherwise you'll collapse and I am in no form to drag you up the stairs.

- Oh, you've finally noticed, - Shari huffed. - I hope there will be a very - no, extremely - warm chimney, - she added, shivering.

- As you wish, - answered the ghost, pushing the heavy door. They walked into the library together, careful not to make any noise and Shari had to catch her breath: of course she had expected something like this, but neither the size of the room nor the abundance of different apparatuses and strange objects could have ever been embraced by her imagination - it seemed like one lifetime would never be enough to study through all the centuries of knowledge kept in these walls.

- Wow.

- Well, that… is one way to place it, - Lisa laughed, amused with the healer's surprise. - Come, - she beckoned. - Take this, this... oh, and this, - she walked to one of the tall shelves, pointing to several books for Shari to take. - Oh, wait, I forgot, can you...?

- Read? You ask only now? You offend me, - Shari threw the ghost an unamused glare, her hands loaded with heavy foliants. Lisa laughed, obviously the question was only poorly hidden sarcasm. Rodo behind her back was running around the room, smelling the air with curiosity - if he ever visited the castle before, she doubted that he was let anywhere near the living areas.

- Well, you never know with people these days, - Lisa replied. - These must have something on your lung disease, as far as I remember - or some similar things - you'll need to go through lung sections, compare the symptoms and check what might work for you.

- Will try to, - the girl nodded, weighting the books in her arms and already estimating how much time she may possibly have for all that study.

- Come on now, don't waste time, - Lisa was too enthusiastic to be a ghost inside of an abandoned vampire castle. Far too enthusiastic. Something must have been off, but Shari couldn’t place what and couldn’t possibly be able to do so in her exhausted state.

Shari followed her down another large door and out of the library; there was a narrow staircase leading somewhere upstairs, dark and empty, just like the rest of the place – the golden lights of the library couldn’t reach into its curves, so Shari had to watch her step carefully. She was not sure how many floors they passed before they finally left the stairs and turned into a dark corridor lit only by the moonlight, falling from a small window way in front of them. Shari felt cold and slightly anxious for no evident reason - the whole place had an intense, intimidating mood to it – as expected. Lisa made a few more steps and stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. Shari hesitated once more, but Lisa nodded towards it encouragingly; the girl then freed one of her hands from underneath the books and pushed the door open, stepping into the room more confidently.

A big four-poster bed, a fireplace, a wardrobe and a table with a chair placed by the window. Old, slightly dusty, but more than enough for her to rest her head. Shari threw the books on the table and lit the fire in no time, sinking down on her knees to warm her freezing fingers. After several days of survival and freezing, she could finally heat and rest. Rodo crawled to the corner of the room and lay down there calmly, hiding his clawed paws beneath himself and seemingly beginning to drift off, Lisa stood by the window, facing away, staring into the darkness, seemingly already detached from what was happening within the walls of the castle. The door was locked - pointlessly, as a bow to paranoia - the fire was burning nicely - how good it was to finally feel its warmth - the room was silent apart from its creaking and Shari knew she herself was starting to fall asleep.

She stood up from her place by the chimney, checked the door once more and threw herself on the bed, kicking off her boots and crawling under the heavy blankets. Now she wanted nothing more than sleep - sleep and warmth of the chimney to ease her cold, the soreness of her limbs and the pain in her lungs. Lisa slowly dissolved in the corner of the room, but even that didn't seem to be a problem to the healer - she would catch up with the ghost tomorrow, get to her reading and preferably medicine. Now - rest.

Shari rolled into a ball under the covers and surrendered to the long awaited sleep.

***

Dracula was returning to his home after two days of absence; following his son proved counterproductive - apart from assuring, that the boy didn't have it easy with the demons, there was not much more he could do. The group held together, never separated - not after they became three instead of four. That was almost a pitiful chain of events. Though it did make them less vulnerable to his attacks and he decided not to rush things - the speed at which they traveled bought him more than enough time for any further proceedings.

The world outside was crushed and burned by war. The world inside his castle was dark and hollow as usual. At least it was so normally - but surprisingly, not that night.

Dracula knew there was an intruder in his castle the moment he entered – there was no way he wouldn’t have noticed; the vampire had to stop on his tracks, trying to detect what caught him off guard, and then he finally felt it - the smell of the human was very subtle, but still there. He tracked her down(undeniably this one was a female, he could almost recognize that mix of cinnamon and lavender as if he had encountered it before) - from the main entrance to the library - pausing by the shelves for a moment, a few foliants were missing here and there with the traces of her human warmth still hovering around the place - and upstairs to one of the rooms - just like the guestroom Lisa stayed at when she first found him.

The door was expectably locked, but as soon as the vampire's nail trailed along the keyhole, the lock clicked by itself, opening up. Dracula expected a lost and tired stranger or a hopeful witch seeking out his help and teaching, but when he opened the door, letting himself inside, he finally understood why her smell seemed so familiar to him. The girl from the forest camp, his son's willing helper, witch and healer by her own words. The vampire was surprised to say the least. He had been quite sure she was gone for good; in the end he had tried his best to give her a peaceful death and yet here she was: alive, breathing and in his castle. Sleeping peacefully, having willingly crawled under his roof and left herself at his mercy.

The vampire entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind him and sitting down in the chair by the table, his eyes observing the human figure on the bed. Petite, blond haired and pale - the girl looked so similar to Lisa, but yet was nothing like her - no, the darker tint to her hair and the weakness of her tired body drew the distinction quite clearly, as well as the reddish mark standing out against her pale neck. A mark he left on her.

He briefly wondered how that weak creature managed to survive his bite, but he would set the question aside for the time being. He needed to decide what to do with his guest: the easiest option was to finally enjoy the remnants of her sweet living blood without interruption now, but one look at the pale sleeping form made him suddenly feel doubtful: her chest heaving as she breathed, her heartbeat slow and peaceful, she coughed in her sleep dryly and turned on her back, her arms spread across the bed, she faced away from him with the crook of her neck so temptingly open to his view - so calm and vulnerable. How are you still alive? Dracula suddenly for himself felt rather than decided that he would not end her, not yet and not here, that he wanted to know more: how she found him, what she wanted and what may come of her - after all, he hadn't had such bold human visitors, ever since...

***

Dim light was shining through the window, strands of it falling onto her face and disturbing her peaceful sleep. Shari moved about a bit, wincing at the pain in her limbs and the full ache somewhere deep in her chest, letting a few (thankfully) dry coughs pass her lips, trying to hide away from the morning rays, hoping for a few more minutes of the blissful unconsciousness, then finally stilled, opening her sleepy eyes and sitting up. The instant she did so, she knew something was very wrong: the room was identical to how it looked the evening before, but she felt it still – even the air seemed denser, more dangerous and alert. She felt a shiver run down her back – as she finally noticed it, on the wall before her, next to the door, she could see a large dark shadow of something standing in front of the window, cutting off the light. Please let it be something outside. Shari turned her head slightly to the left and saw Rodo crouched on the ground - worried and tense, looking in the direction of something behind her back; the healer suddenly had absolutely no wish to turn around. Maybe if she would stay still the thing - whatever it was - would go away and leave her alone.

The sound of movement behind her back announced her that her stillness would most probably not protect her - whatever it was, it was inside of the room and very much uncaring of whether she moved or not.

- I think I have already killed you once this week, - Shari jumped on the spot and turned abruptly to finally face her host: Dracula was leaning against the table and staring down at her, his sharp face unreadable. - You are quite persistent for a human, I dare say. And bold.

Shari leaped out of the bed, as if a bucket of ice cold water was spilled over her, and backed away from him until her back hit the stone wall, her eyes searching for Lisa frantically – but the ghost was nowhere to be seen. Not this again. The vampire crossed the room in a swift, undetectable motion, his figure appearing in front of her in a matter of seconds. Rodo growled at his master, but remained motionless, still afraid to step out against the vampire.

Shari tried to move away, slip out of his grasp before he could properly get ahold of her, possibly even reach the door and run down the stairs - anything - but a large clawed hand grabbed her throat suddenly and firmly and the healer found herself unable to breathe properly, gasping and coughing in his hold, trying to wriggle away. Where was Lisa when she was so needed? "Oh no, Dracula is rarely visiting this castle nowadays!" Sure, like there was ever any point in believing that.

- How did you find this place? - Dracula growled rather than asked. His grasp was tight and Shari felt panic rise inside as if she was already in the claws of Death itself. Not far from truth.

"Your dead wife dragged me all the way here."

- Rumours. Mostly. And a bit of luck, - she rasped, out of breath.

- What do you want?

"Out."

- Shelter. And knowledge. I know there are books here that can help me heal, - she coughed and tried to free herself, once again unsuccessfully.

- And you expected the castle to be empty? - he almost laughed.

"No, but your beloved wife is a big liar."

- I recognize it was incredibly stupid of me, but back then it seemed like a plan, - oh yes, a plan of a very annoying and untrustworthy ghost.

- Are you alone here?

"Apart from a mean ghost and your demon..."

- Yes! - she gritted her teeth, as his hand pressed her farther into the wall.

- Give me one reason, human, not to finish now what I started a few days ago, - he was growling now even deeper, his face close to hers and she wondered how painful it may be this time. She did not want to find out.

- When I'm here I can't help Adrian! - she replied quickly, rasping each word.

- Same as when you are dead, - came the answer, his head leaning down to the crook of her neck. She shrieked.

- Repeating the same action and awaiting a different outcome of it is the definition of insanity, - Shari blurted out, not fully aware of her own words. What the hell was this even about? - You have ready killed me once, remember? I should have died back then, but something kept me going. You killed me and it didn't work. And you are not insane, are you?

Dracula suddenly removed his hand from her throat, laughing and took a small step back - as soon as he did so, she could feel against herself the growling form of Rodo who jumped in front of the human, protecting her from his master. Shari slid to the floor and threw her arms around the creature's neck, holding it to herself and caressing the dark fur. The vampire stared at the demon with a dissatisfied gaze, but the beast held his ground firmly now.

- You are a particularly peculiar human being, healer, - the vampire laughed. - That was the most unsettling answer you could have given.

- Was it? - she rasped, catching her breath. He smirked, knowing well he would not eat her now; he was too amused to make her his meal. - I can leave if you want, I will... - Shari searched for words. What exactly was she going to do if he made her leave? Crouch down on his porch and die?

- You are a curious specimen... Besides it likes you for some reason, - Dracula nodded towards Rodo. - You may stay until you annoy me out of my patience, - he stated blankly, instantly hating how welcoming he was being towards the human.

- Thank you. Making me leave would have been unfortunate and embarrassing to no limit, - Shari spoke quickly with no intonation, calming her rapidly beating heart. That was unexpected, but appreciated and she tried to be as short and non-annoying as possible as to not make him change his mind.

- Rest, use the library, and try to stay out of my line of sight. And remember I could still decide to draw a conclusion to our previous meeting, - he walked out of the guestroom, almost slamming the door behind him. So much for hospitality, but at least she wasn't being kicked out. Or eaten, for that matter.

Shari breathed in deeply and caressed Rodo's head and neck. What has she gotten herself into? Where the hell did Lisa disappear to?

#i'm not very subtle about this am i #welcome to the darkness #let the romance begin #not much happens here #i try my best i swear #castle dracula #castlevania #dracula x oc #dracula x reader #sound of a heartbeat #adrian tepes #alucard #lisa fahrenheit #castlevania fanfiction

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nyxxhexx · 5 years ago

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🎉 2021 Channeled Musical Messages for the Signs 🎉

Read for your Sun, Moon, Rising, and Venus 🌌

Overall Theme of 2021

Colors pt. II by Halsey

This is the follow-up to a year of heartache, heart break, disappointment, disillusionment, forgetfulness, and forgoing all that was meant to be ours. Now, we begin this new year on a hopeful note - we step into all that was meant to be and believe that it belongs to us. The colors begin to shift from monochrome to radiant, and light falls upon even the darkest of nights.

You are going to be okay.

Aries

We Are Sex Bob-Omb by Sex Bob-Omb

This year is irreverent. Declare who you are proudly and loudly, and don't let anyone forget it. Say what you need to say as it comes; don't let a single moment pass you by. Live for immediacy. Jump on chances when they come. You never know when you'll get another opportunity - last year proved that more than anything. You're ready for all that is coming, so be prepared to jump into the unknown. Find others who are willing to jump with you (or, at the very least, who are willing to wait for you at the bottom!) You will not walk through this year alone, even if you will it. Trust in the process, and accept that you are loved.

Taurus

Thnks fr th Mmrs by Fall Out Boy

It's time to let go of them. You know who. They aren't following you into this year, and holding on to them as more than they really are will only prove to be harmful. You have so much potential for love - stop pretending like you don't have feelings. Embrace newness; embrace change; embrace difference. Once you look back with clear eyes, you'll realize the memories are tinged with nostalgia and unrealistic expectations. Stop comparing others and view everyone with new eyes - they are each their own person, and not treating them as such will only lead to more heartbreak and disappointment. It's time to make the change, so make it. Jealousy will get you nowhere.

Gemini

Teddy Picker by Arctic Monkeys

It's not all it's cracked up to be. You have dreams and plans for this year, but you need to reevaluate what you think you want. Temper your expectations accordingly. The impossible can happen, and this year will be better - this isn't a message of discouragement, but a message of realistic expectations. Things don't just happen; they don't just change because the calendar shifts. You will get all you want, but you must actively put in the effort for it to ensure it's yours. Make sure you really want all you're pursuing. Don't waste your time on anything that's not worth your time and effort; throw yourself into everything else whole-heartedly. Just make sure it's not a distraction from something else. You deserve straightforward paths and clear conversation; never settle for any less. Make sure those around you know that, and this year will change for the better for certain. You already know the first step, so proceed boldly and with confidence in yourself.

Cancer

Forgiven, Not Forgotten by the Corrs

Do you really want to sit there and watch your days pass you by? You've been crying over this for so long; last year drew a lot of tears, but it's time for them to stop. You're still holding on; now it's time to let go. You need to tie up some of these loose ends before you can move into 2021. It's okay - the year's start can wait for you, but it won't wait long. Get up and start making moves towards forgiving yourself and forgetting others. You cannot accept all that this new year has for you until you make room by releasing the old one. You've been promised color and vibrancy - the blues and greys will fade over time, blossoming into reds, pinks, yellows, and brighter blues. You're ready to move on; all that's stopping you is yourself. Nobody is worth holding onto this way - especially no man. Let him go and accept the change for good. You're ready to move on once and for all. But just because you forget doesn't mean they will; if those old memories pop back up in your life, hold your ground and push them back out. You deserve better, so open yourself to it to receive it at last.

Leo

Goodbye Graceful by Falling In Reverse

You're leaving behind something good. Maybe that's okay, and maybe it isn't. If you really need to move on, move on gracefully and without malice. Burning this bridge isn't going to help you at all; you might need to cross it again in the future. Take all that you've learned in 2020 and apply it to the new year - if you forget all that happened, what was it all for? Yes, it was terrible, but there is something to be learned even from the worst events. Sometimes you just need to know that, no matter what happened, you survived. You lived through it all, and you will be okay again. Take time for yourself, but don't cut everyone off. You are loved by so many, so find the balance between the need for isolation and the need to surround yourself with others. Trust those who prove they can be trusted, and bow out gracefully from those who can't. Have faith that everything will work out - this year is a year for believing in the impossible, so believe. Trust in the bell curve; things are gradually going to get better until you finally find what you're looking for.

Virgo

I'm Legit by Nicki Minaj and Ciara

This year is about shaking up your routine. Step out of your comfort zone and embrace your inner Leo. You're the best of the best, you know that, now flaunt it. Brag on yourself like you're writing a resume. You deserve top shelf everything, so splurge. Treat yourself to what you want, even if it doesn't seem practical. Above all else, remember that you don't have to change yourself to do any of this. You don't need to change your appearance, your lifestyle, or your friend group - you just need to change your mindset. These two ideals might not seem to be compatible at first, but over time you'll realize how they fit together to better your life and make 2021 all it's meant to be.

Libra

My Propeller by Arctic Monkeys

The situation is urgent now, but don't rush it. You've been building towards something for the entirety of 2020, but it hasn't quite come to pass yet. Carry on towards it - the new year doesn't automatically shift things. You're very close to achieving that goal; the planets are synergizing, everything's falling into place. Make those last few moves. Say what you need to say, do what you need to do, and don't let time keep passing without setting things in stone. The time for waiting is over - the situation can't get started on its own. You have to set it into motion now, then keep the momentum going until you cross that finish line. Don't give up now; keep pushing for what you want and it'll come to you. Just be sure you do so with great purpose of movement and very, very carefully. Rushing things will only make them fall apart, but moving slowly and with purpose will make all the difference. Luck is on your side here; put it all into practice with faith, and you'll achieve your goals. The waiting between now and then is just a necessary evil, but it'll build your strength and stamina for the event itself. In the end, you'll be happy you didn't rush things, and everything will work out.

Scorpio

Perhaps Vampires Is A Bit Strong But... by Arctic Monkeys

In 2020, you let far too many people suck the life, love, and energy out of you. That will not go on any longer. You know what you deserve now, so stop denying yourself everything you know you're owed. There will be no more thinking about all you could have or should have done; there will be only doing. Cut off the people who drain you once and for all. Instead, surround yourself with people who give and take in equal measure. Don't retreat too far into yourself, though - your instinct may be to run completely and hide behind your walls, but those instincts are wrong. You've got to find a way to walk the line and achieve balance. If you don't, you'll fall too far to either side, and getting back to the middle will be difficult, but not impossible. Maintain your balancing act and ask for help, no matter sure you are you can do it all on your own. There are those in your life who are ready and willing. Just say the word and they'll be there.

Sagittarius

All I Need by Matchbox Twenty

You already know what you need this year. What are you waiting for? What's stopping you? If it isn't monumental, then it's already yours; if it is, then believe in the impossible. What you have right now isn't a permanent solution to filling the hole in your chest. You've been searching and searching for fulfillment. Now, it's time to claim it. Reach out and take that missing piece - and then start helping those around you find theirs. The dream isn't over for any of you, so don't give up, and don't let them give up either. It can be hard to trust our own instincts, so trust the messages meant for you. Trust the synchronicities and confirmations. This is just the first of many, so keep an eye out; you're already being guided in the right direction.

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verobatto · 4 years ago

Text

Destiel Chronicles

Vol. CXII

It was a love story from the very beginning.

The Righteous Father

(14x05/15x06)

Hello my beloveds! Another meta from Healing!Dean season 14. This is a summary from my original metas from season 14, so I hope I can convey all the concepts for you.

I will talk mostly about Dean's daddy issues and how he will be able to break free about it as he accepts his love for Castiel.

You can check the metas from these two episode following these links: X, X, X, X, X.

Sharing Daddy Issues

"And this episode Logic Nightmares, was about fears... Did you see the woman trying to open the basement door... Darker than night, to see what was in there... In that dark and tenebrous place, and then she was scared him by that "vampire"? And she fell of fear... Well very symbolic bc... imagine Dean trying to open his most darkest room... His lost repressed feeling... But when he tries... He's attacked by his own fears... And he fails Everytime..."

I wrote this in one of my metas. That episode had Dean Winchester saying "Let it go... Like Elsa." It's related to MOVE ON. A topic that will be explored in season 15 with Dean and Castiel after their break up.

'Logic Nightmares' was about fears but also about daddy issues.

The fact that Sasha went to a dark room and found a monster hidden there, is a foreshadow for AUMichael hidden inside of Dean after 14x10 and also, AUMichael spying them though Dean Winchester's eyes. (That's why the reaction of the d'jin in this episode.)

The dialogue between Sasha and Dean in which Sasha were mirroring Dean was very meaningful:

SASHA: My dad wasn't the best person. He was gone all the time working. For us, he said (...)

DEAN: I'm sorry.

SASHA: Mm. That's what everyone says. Except him. Never said it. You want to know what the most ridiculous part is? I worshipped him when I was a kid.

This is Dean talking my friends from the very beginning. His view about hai dad, a man that tried to do his best, but even so, filled with trauma to his son's. And deep inside he was waiting for an apology from John.

And also...

Gif set credit @itsokaysammy

Dean's baggage is full of GUILT, REGRETS and TRAUMA. And the only one person we saw getting inside that baggage/backpack was Castiel in episode 13x20.

Also, the topic of MOVE ON, will be explored in season 15 after Dean and Castiel's break up.

This episode was full of recalling to John Winchester. It worked as a foreshadow of his next appearence in episode 14x13. The episode in which Sam and Dean will be able to forgive their father and heal.

We saw statues of Saint Mary and Saint Joseph in the crypt representing Mary and John Winchester.

And a blatant John Winchester mirror in Bobby...

Okay, let's jump now to episode 14x06... And how it was foreshadowing Dean's choice in episode 14x13.

Dean will choose Castiel

Harper was a Dean mirror, not just because the whole visual elements you can find in the colors of her outfits (she starts wearing red: toxic Dean and ends up wearing green: healing!Dean). But because her relationship with the place where she lived and her toxic bond with the zombie boyfriend.

I realized this episode had a lot of fables references on the wall. That's because we are seeing Dean learning the lesson of his life. Episode 14x04 was about fighting against fears and 14x05 about daddy issues. This episode is about making the right decision and choose your true love.

This was very important to understand episode 14x13 in which Dean decides between his Father, his past and his present family and Castiel. Of course he picked up Cas.

But, then the monster/toxic masculinity boyfriend came back...

"Once in the library what happened was symbolic too, bc Harper OPENED THE DOOR TO HIS TOXIC PAST AND THIS ZOMBIE GAVE HER THE BOOK AGAIN! I MEAN!! This is Dean coming back all over again to this big issue, embracing him, not letting go. This toxic idea of what a man should be, this toxic idea about NOT TALKING OF THE L WORD AND NOT FEELING IT FOR A MAN!"

Another important book was this one...

That book talking about laces (bond, profound Bond) and lances (Dean stabbing Castiel in the barn, love at first stab).

The symbolism here is huge and talks about Dean's inner fight.

From this episode I elqboretaed what I thought was THE MOVES and THE TALK. Because Jack was the innocent one here trying to understand about love.

The moves were related with Dean and CAS being glued and the talk is the one we were waiting for, it came as Dean's prayer in Purgatory 2.0 and Castiel's love confession (as a response to that prayer) in episode 15x18.

First of all, remember the place where Dean and Jack arrived for info. There was full of cocks (second meaning). Also two cocks facing each other to both side of Dean's head (AUMichael against Castiel fighting for Dean 🤣).

And do you remember that funny dialogue between the waitress and Dean and Jack.

JACK - What's courting?

DEAN - Hey, it's what you do before you start dating.

JACK - and that's the thing you do before the sex. (Dean and waitress both look at him oddly)

WAITRESS - Sometimes you just have the sex. (and grins)

DEAN - Okay, that's...Who is Harper Sayles?

That's very cute from Dean and Jack. Because both of them are innocent. Innocent love. Because Dean is not the man that hooks up with any waitress anymore. He even turned away the Cock's tail. Like he rejecting the idea. He is so in love with CAS. Jack and Dean's talk will continue when Jack asks him about Harper being in love with the nougat boy, and googly eyes. (Related to Dean and Cas almost continued eye fucking.) And then the last scene....

Gif credit @mishalocked

This scene was a blatant DEAN IS TALKING ABOUT CAS. DEAN SPEAKS WITH AUTHORITY ABOUT LOVE AND HE EVEN USES THE L WORD HERE. Dean is accepting his romantic love for the angel.

Harper's room was showing a little of Dean's innocent idea about love too. With all the stuffed animals in his room and the big green word AMORE live in Italian.

Another important foreshadow was Harper (this time dressed in green) writing a live letter to Jack, his true love while a love song was playing.

In retrospective, even when I. The letter Harper was chosing Jack over her toxicity, the song playing was a foreshadow of 15x18. I wrote this...

Sobbing, I think I was right...

To Conclude:

These two episode talked about daddy issues and Dean's inner fight that will end with Dean chosing Castiel and his present life against his toxicity and past.

It was full of foreshafows from season 15.

I hope you liked this summaries. If you wanna read more about these two episodes, please check the links at the beginning of this meta.

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @dizzypinwheel @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @belacoded @madronasky @anon-non2 @cea1996 @lisafu02 @asphodelesauvage @deancasgirl777

If you wanna be added or removed from this list just let me know.

If you wanna read the previous metas from season 14 here you have the links...

Vol. CIX, CX, CXI.

Buenos Aires, May 9th 2021 2:46 PM

#destiel chronicles #destiel #drstiel meta #supernatural meta #season 14 meta #14x05 meta #14x06 meta

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rokutouxei · 5 years ago

Text

you are still the sun that shines for me

part 8 of atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theo van gogh/mc | G | 3593 | [ao3 in bio]

Life couldn’t get any better. You enjoy what you do here, spending your life without regrets with the person you love the most. That is, until you meet her. The woman who still loves Theo.

CHAPTER 2

The remaining days of the exhibit pass by in a blur. Or rather, neither of you really feel quite like any of it is real, after that first day.

Theo had been so excited on the opening day, as he always is. Opening days were the most thrilling, after all: setting up the canvases, perfecting the gallery, letting people in, seeing the wonder in their eyes—Theo had hardly slept the night before, tossing and turning in excitement. The both of you left the mansion long before dawn broke just to prepare the exhibit space, to carry off the paintings out of the atelier to the gallery, hidden by pre-dawn darkness from the academie’s prying eyes.

And oh, the Academie! The time spent making sure everything was done right, that no one was going to let this out, to check the location, to clear the area of any possible Academie goons looking around… it was time well spent, now that the exhibit was opening! Months and months of hard work encapsulated into five exciting days for the organizers—the both of you—and the artists. Just like that, the rolls and rolls of gauze and a lot of hidden first-aid sessions from fistfights in the alley and the piles and piles of syrup-drowned pancakes and late nights organizing and reorganizing things to perfection has finally come to this.

It wouldn’t stand long–five days is the expected run time–but what matters is it stands. Five days was already longer than the not at all that used to be the norm when he started in this new life of his.

All of this—the excitement, the worry, the nervous satisfaction—had left Theo’s hands nervous and shaky. The sun was still out and he was fixing his tie in the candlelight, behind you in front of the mirror, with no avail. You took the chance to laugh at him (“Don’t laugh at me.” “I’m not laughing at you!” “You’re not laughing with me, either.”) before tiptoeing and pressing a kiss at his creased forehead.

Standing in front of him, just close enough to kiss, you carefully re-did his tie, humming gently. You were already mostly dressed up, with just your hair left to be done. He wanted to press a kiss at the crown of your heard and say you look so beautiful, but instead he held the words in with a thin crescent-moon smile he can feel all the way down his heart. The soft light in his eyes his unsaid I love you.

He trusted in your mind, your skill of reading him, of seeing right through his pretenses.

(He shouldn’t have.)

Because now, on the next day of the exhibit, he wishes he did. He watches you tie a ribbon onto your hair at the dresser, not meeting his eye even if he stares at you hard enough to bore a hole right through. He wishes he did, now that you barely spoke a word to him this morning, even if you’d shared a rather intimate night the night before night. He wishes he did, now that you don’t have even the heart to look back and see if he’s done his tie right today. He thinks of the way you’d pulled him down yesterday morning, his tie in your fist even though you’ve carefully tried to keep it unwrinkled at first, as you tiptoed to press a kiss on his lips, grinning wide when you got away.

Instead, the door creaks open, your hand on the doorknob; you’re not even looking at him. “I’ll just drink some water in the kitchen; I’ll see you in the entryway,” you say, rather blandly, and then leave the room.

The weight of his unsaid oh what would I do without you is painful and bitter on his tongue.

You feign sick on the day of the exhibit’s egress. Theo tucks you into bed and leaves. It feels way too easy, like Theo was also avoiding you.

You don’t know how long it’ll take before you finally get the courage to ask him—to talk to him about this. You know—the rational part of you knows things will be better, resolved faster, be easier if you’d just told him—but when your stomach goes into knots just seeing his eyes because you see them mirrored in the irises of a boy named after his brother, you are powerless to your fear.

You let the sight simmer at the back of your mind. You had thrown yourself into the business of the exhibit proper to actually think about this for the past few days, but today… today, alone in his bedroom, in the century you’d decided to stay in for him, you have all the time to think.

When he left this morning, you lingered in that goodbye embrace, not really wanting to let go.

The thoughts hang over you like storm clouds. Not wanting to be alone with your angry, paranoid inner voice, you settle for helping Sebastian throughout the day. You let yourself overthink when you’re lost in the rhythm of a chore. While hanging the laundry, you think, honestly? You’re not surprised to know that Theo had a family of his own when he was alive. As you’re scrubbing the dishes, you admire—you lament—how he’s capable, and steady, and charming, and has great passion for what he was doing. While smoothing bedsheets, you recall how quickly you loved him—you knew how easy it was to fall for a man like that.

Something green begins to seethe inside of your chest.

Theo is surrounded by patrons, in the middle of conversation with other art dealers who have come to visit (having heard of his prowess), but he doesn’t really feel like part of it. He feels like you should be there with him instead, knows you will be able to provide more interesting insights, but that was a luxury he could not bring himself to ask for.

“Monsieur van Gogh?” one of the businessmen call out to him, and Theo’s mind snaps back into place.

One of the older patrons laugh. “Tired? Forgiven, but only because we see your hard work right here.”

“Pardon, messieurs,” Theo says, fitting an awkward smile on his face. It doesn’t feel right. To smile. To act like he’s okay. “Where were we?”

“Monet, Monsieur Theodore,” a dealer named Desrosiers says. “We were talking about endorsing Monet.”

Theo nods, but only half-listens.

One of the better-kept secrets of the mansion is Sebastian’s collections of history books from the future.

Between that fateful conversation where Comte had offered to bring him back and ask him to work at the mansion and the door actually opening, Sebastian decided to do his best to prepare himself for the long-haul. A good move on his part, considering he was uprooting himself for good, into a world far into the past. Having been assured that all of the essentials will be provided to him in the mansion, all Sebastian really needed to bring with him was luxury items from the present: and he decided that a collection of history books on various topics would be the best option for a history nerd such as himself.

It was a secret (to everyone besides him, Comte, and you) because Sebastian felt like he would ultimately alter something inevitable if he had left his collection in the library, to the others’ prying eyes. The last thing Sebastian wants to do is mess with the history even more than the timeslipping of all these great figures already has.

For a moment, you consider tasting what it means to change history, returning to the sight in the gallery, but then you shut that train of thought down.

Not wanting to ask Sebastian himself about your relationship problems (as he was definitely more nosy than you’d want), you ask him, instead, if he has anything on hand about the van Goghs from the 21st century, where you both come from. At first he’s a little taken aback–you had said, “van Goghs”, and not, “Theo and Vincent”–but he quickly recovers and scribbles chapters and volumes and titles onto a sheet of paper.

(“You have it memorized?”

“Not completely, but those of relevance to the residents in the mansion, yes.”

That’s definitely more than just mere relevance, but you settle on thanking him and go find the books.)

You pore through the books with a dedication you’d never found before; the passion so strong you hardly really notice you’re doing it nearly entirely out of spite.

A book about the turn of the century has a short paragraph about the artists of the period. Gauguin (you flinch), Vincent, Toulouse-Lautrec. There’s no mention of Theo at all, much less his life. Relief floods you, but only momentarily. You put the book down.

You move to something a little closer to home: a book of influential artists across history–make a mental note to read this cover to cover the next time you have a chance to, just because of how useful it might be–and thumb to the end of the book to ‘v’ and find a short biography of Vincent. There is a mention about his having sold only a single painting while he was alive, thanks to his art-dealer brother—but then nothing else. There is no mention of his brother’s wife. You put the book down.

The last book is a biography of Vincent, lovingly annotated by Sebastian in pencil and with post-its from the future, its adhesive already giving away; you’re careful, making sure not a single one loses its place. The history fanatic has gone and marked the bits where history as you knew it diverges from the history this vampire Vincent knows. You thumb the post-it where Sebastian has written “gunshot” in his neat handwriting, carefully skimming through the page until you reach the arrow pointing at a paragraph that describes Theo’s death by what might be syphilis: worsened by the loss of his brother, weighing heavy on his shoulders, having been Vincent’s primary benefactor for the length of their lives.

The following text sears itself into your eyes.

His wife, Johanna van Gogh, worked after their deaths to establish the legacy of the van Gogh name.

You don’t really know what you’d expected to find, what you’d expected to feel when you found something, but you still are not prepared for the blow that hits you the moment you read her name.

She had no photos, no indication of anything else, but you see the beautiful woman in the gallery, so smart and proud and put-together, and you want to shrink into a small ball.

Would he be better off with her?

Well, no, because he’s left the Theo she knows, and now I have him, and she has no hold on him, you tell yourself, but your brain reminds you that you saw Theo’s expression in the young boy’s eyes and you’d caught her and Theo talking at the other end of the gallery, you just couldn’t bear to look more than the two seconds you’d seen them.

What did she tell Theo?

Did she recognize him?

What did Theo say?

What did he feel?

Why didn’t he bring this up to you?

Maybe… maybe for the same reasons you don’t bring it up to him.

Your hand, nearly on instinct, makes a move to close the book and put it away, but your heart is banging in your chest and you keep reading. Sebastian has no notes to supplement the text, just a curious “different?” written on the side; Theo has always been secretive, and it is unsurprising that the butler has been unable to unearth anything about the man’s wife. But you keep reading anyway, cautious as your mind blurs the space between history as you know it and the history you are currently living in.

You read about a night train home, Theo in a straitjacket.

You read about flowers she’d brought as a gift, and how he’d destroyed them instead.

You read about visits where he doesn’t recognize her.

You read about exhibits in Paris homes they no longer could occupy.

You read about graves.

Your heart is concrete in your chest, sinking deeper and deeper and making it hard to breathe.

You read the entire latter part of the book until there is no longer anything left to read.

Instead of full of the knowledge, the discovery, the things that make reading fun to begin with… you instead are empty, hollow. Like the text had instead carved something out of you; had taken it away.

With the vacuum of confusion sitting in your chest, you put the books back into their original places, making sure the wood keeping the wooden shelving hidden from sight is right in place.

You take the note from Sebastian and burn it on the flame of a lamp. You watch the paper slowly turns black, and drop it just before it sears your fingertips. Then you go to the garden to think.

Theo wanted the ability to say he didn’t go looking, but it was an urge he couldn’t really do much in resisting. Much to his—relief? delight? disappointment?—however, Johanna van Gogh-Bonger did not show up at the exhibit’s following four days. He confirms this fact with the logbooks, leather-bound and heavy, carrying his secrets, like how he inspects it so carefully now that you’re not around, when no one is left in the gallery, artists carrying out chairs and tables. It feels like a crime, the way he runs his thumb over her signature at the first page. It feels like going back.

And just like that, the exhibit closes without any other incident.

(Except it doesn’t really feel finished, not when Theo’s feels a hollow in his chest.)

He wonders what you’re doing back at home.

How long were they married? Was that their kid? Did Theo know? Did he choose the name? He must have, knowing him, but–

Does it make a difference about how much he loves me?

You know for a fact that the first person you should have gone to was Theo.

But you don’t, because you were too afraid to do so. Too afraid to hear the truth from him, and then maybe find something else out. Something worse. You don’t even know what that could be but it eats you up on the inside, clawing underneath your eyelids like a saltwater monster.

“Why are you looking so down, zusje?”

You hadn’t noticed Vincent coming out to the garden, lugging with him his usual art materials when he’s going out to paint. Perspective frame, canvas, a small seat, toolbox (with his brushes and paint), sketchpad, and some rouge. He also has a little gas lamp with him–so he must plan to stay out long. You’ve still yet to get used to Vincent calling you his sister.

It comes out of your mouth before it registers with you. “Can I come with you?”

“Of course,” Vincent answers after a short pause of surprise. You hadn’t answered his question, after all–and this was all so sudden. Everything is so sudden.

You take five minutes to sprint back to the mansion to tell Sebastian and to pick up a book to read before you’re walking next to Vincent. You volunteer to carry the little stool and his canvas (“it’s heavy!” “no, I swear, its not—Theo and I carry paintings all the time!”) and the two of you walk side by side. He’s on the way to the overlook, he says, to paint the city in the twilight, as night begins to fall. Now that you’re a little more knowledgeable about the art world, you get to have discussions with Vincent about art techniques, styles, and even other painters–you spend the walk to the overlook talking to each other about this and that.

It’s always lovely to lose yourself in art.

Until… you lose.

Vincent tries to steer the conversation toward talking about the exhibit, but noticing your dull half-answers, he decides not to push. He pats your head in comfort–his big-brother I’m here to listen if you need–and then returns to talking about anything else.

The both of you get to the overlook with just enough time to set up before the beautiful flaming red of twilight begins to cover the streets of Paris in a warm glow. You help Vincent set his painting materials in order and when that’s done, he helps you lay out the picnic mat he brought with him and–oh! Sebastian packed him sandwiches he eagerly offers you.

You like to watch Vincent paint. The time you’ve spent with Theo helping out with his art dealership work has definitely sharpened your senses about painting and art—and, naturally, you’ve cultivated an undeniable adoration for Vincent’s painting style as well. You’ve learned so much of art history—the Classical painters, Renaissance, the Impressionists… and you’re sure Theo is right in saying that Vincent is the genius of a new generation. Rough, and hurried, as if the moment he’s painting will disappear any second now. You’re entranced by his work. You’re entranced by him working. You don’t dare interrupt him during the process.

But when he pauses to let his paint dry a little, putting down the palette and the brush and the paint, you let your curiosity get the best of you.

“Have you ever fallen in love, Vincent?”

Like waking up from a trance, Vincent’s voice is hazy. “Me?” He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Not me, you hear, in your mind, filling the blanks.

Vincent turns to you, blond hair tussled in the wind, sky blue eyes wide in concern. “Why?”

You purse your lips.

Maybe you should have gone to Theo instead. Taking it out on his brother, this is just unfair of you, isn’t it?

“Did something happen at the exhibit?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek.

Vincent watches you pensively.

“Is it Theo?”

A tear slides down your cheek without permission, without you noticing, right to the ground. Your eyes hurt.

“I don’t want to know,” you start. “Knowing makes it harder. I wish I didn’t know.”

Confused, Vincent gets off his stool to sit on the picnic mat with you, wiping his hands on his apron. “Know about what?”

It takes all your strength to look up at Vincent.

“Tell me about Johanna?”

The sun’s long out of the sky when the exhibit’s egress finally finishes, paintings and chairs and tables stuffed into rented carriages and wagons to be brought back to their home in the atelier. Some of the artists are cheering and laughing, talking about planning to drink in celebration afterwards. One of them slings an arm around Theo’s shoulders, inviting him to join them.

And Theo knows—Theo knows at that exact moment what he should have done. He should have said no, I’m going with you, should have said we’ll go drinking some other time, you baiseurs. They will forgive him; they know how in love he is with you. They respect your relationship, and they will tease, but they will let him go. Theo knows he could have done better. Theo knows he should have gone home and asked to talk to you. Should have sat you down in his room, held you in his arms, and attempted to put the constricting feeling in his throat into words.

Theo knows, but he doesn’t.

Because he doesn’t have the courage to face you yet.

So instead, he goes drinking with the artists. Tries not to think of you alone to the mansion, sinking deep into the la thermae under the light of the stars, staring at yourself with that empty gaze in the mirror in his room. If you could even stomach being in his room, anymore.

He focuses on the sight in front of him: reveling in the artists’ conversations, brightened by the successful exhibit, their dreams of the future; their ambitions glimmer a fierce gold so opposite to the flickering light of the shady bar they’d landed in.

Being able to follow his own aspirations with you next to him has felt like that, so similar, to strikingly familiar in its brightness, that he’d lost himself in its light so easily, finding himself easily tripping on wisps of darkness he hadn’t imagined were growing from the source of his light itself.

And by god, I will stumble, but I will not let that stop me.

That’s what he always tells himself.

But how does one pick oneself up after this?

What does one do?

Why did this happen?

The alcohol burns a hot stripe, like a punishment, down his throat.

Theo comes home late that night, smelling like whiskey. You smile at him as if you hadn’t spent the better part of the day nursing the bruising parts of you. Theo kisses you goodnight and rolls over to his side, facing away.

(He hadn’t left you in your bed tonight, but with his back turned to you, you feel as hollow as that night he did.)

You let your eyes wander to the moonlight leaving streaks on the bedroom wall. You think of the woman who Theo kept coming home to. You think of children.

(“Be happy, even in somewhere I don’t know,” he had said.)

You close your eyes and dream of fireflies.

---

you are still the sun that shines for me is a 5-chapter fic that will be posted daily for the next few days! catch what else is in the atelier later on in this fic. :)

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theo #ikevam theo #fic #atelier heart #you are still the sun that shines for me

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dontcare77ghj · 6 years ago

Text

Only Human

Sam x reader x Steve x Bucky

The Avengers had seen a lot of weird things. Aliens, Tony committing to a monogamous relationship, Gods and a lot more, but the weirdest thing they’d seen yet was Sam dating you, Bucky and Steve.

It wasn’t weird because of how many were in the relationship it was because of the species difference between the three of you. In your relationship, Sam was the only human. He liked to say he was the only normal one but he really was the only human in your relationship.

To be fair, Steve and Bucky had once been human but you had never been human. You were born several centuries ago and had been born a phoenix. When you were 564 you met Steve and Bucky. They had been turned into vampires about six centuries ago and the three of you were excited to meet more immortals.

For a hundred years the three of you travelled and lived together. The three of you knew everything about each other and couldn’t imagine being happier than you were with each other.

That was until you met Howard Stark. He was the first person, other than each other, you’d admitted your true nature’s to. The four of you became close friends and stayed that way even after he met his wife and eventually had a son. You and the boys became the godparents to the young Stark and looked out for him, especially when Hydra murdered his parents.

It was a few years after Tony became Iron Man and the four of joined Fury’s Super-Secret Boy Band, when you met your fourth. Sam Wilson had joined a couple years after the New York incident and a few months after meeting the four of you went on your first date.

Two years later the four of you were still happily together. The only problem between the four of you was when it was made clear three of you weren’t human and freaked the one human out.

It had been a long week. You, Sam and Tony had all been forced into a weeklong mission and had only been allowed one call home three days in. It had been a grueling week and the three of you couldn’t wait to get back home.

“You know what I’m in the need of right now?” Sam asked as the three of you sat on the jet.

“A shower.” Tony said, not looking up from his tablet. Reaching over you smacked Tony on the arm. “Ow.” He complained, looking up and rubbing his arm.

“Don’t be rude.” You said, raising an eyebrow at him as if daring him to say anything else.

“Thank you, angel.” Sam said, leaning over and kissing you. “What I was going to say before Tony was so rude, was I could for a stiff drink."

“See that,” Tony started, snapping his fingers. “Is why you’re my favorite of your little foursome.” He added with a smirk.

“Rude. I helped raise you Stark.” You grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him.

“That’s because you’re ancient.” Tony said, earning himself another whack from you. “What’s with all this violence?”

“You’re a rude bastard.” Sam said simply as you moved over to Sam and sat on his lap. “Don’t you know you’re never supposed to bring up a ladies age? Besides, my girl is eternally gorgeous.” He added, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“You’re so sweet, Sammie. Tony maybe you should listen to Sam more, you might learn a thing or two on how to treat a lady.” You said, kissing Sam’s cheek. Tony opened his mouth to respond but didn’t get the chance as the automated voice announced you had arrived back at base.

“Oh thank Thor.” You groaned, standing so Sam could. “I want to sleep for a century.” You said as Sam wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Wait, can you actually do that?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Have you ever actually slept for a century?”

“No, I’ve never slept for a century, honey.” You said with a gentle smile. “Bucky slept for six months after his arm but the best I’ve done is a week."

“Everyone can black out for a week.” Tony said, coming up behind the two of you. “It’s not that hard.” You and Sam rolled your eyes at the man as you entered the elevator and made your way up to your floor.

“Steve? Buck? Guess who’s back.” Sam said as you entered the floor. “Anybody home?” He asked, and dropping his bag by the door as you stripped of your boots.

“We’re here.” Steve said, walking towards you two with a large grin. “Welcome home.” He greeted, pulling Sam into a hug, kissing him, and then repeating the actions with you.

“It’s good to be home.” You murmured, relaxing in his grip. “Is that blood on your lips?” You asked after he kissed you.

“A little.” He said, flushing slightly. “Me and Buck got hungry.” He told you both as he led the pair of you into the kitchen.

“Are you telling me I just tasted blood?” Sam questioned, looking slightly disgusted. “I need to brush my teeth.” He groaned.

“Why do you need to brush your teeth?” Bucky asked, turning away from the sink. Sam turned pale at the sight of your boyfriend and you scrunched your nose at him.

“You’re nearly a thousand years old, Buck, how are you still as messy as a newborn?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at the brunette.

Bucky turned sheepish as you mentioned his feeding habits. It was true that Bucky was a messy feeder, he always had been, and it was true that his current appearance supported your statement. Blood drenched the lower half of Bucky’s face and the top of his shirt, his fingers also covered in the red substance.

“Blood’s a messy substance.” He said, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Still tastes good.”

“Guys what’s rule about blood?” Sam groaned, turning his face away from Bucky. “No blood around the humans.” He said without waiting for an answer.

“Sorry, Sam. I forgot how squeamish you are.” Bucky chuckled, turning away from him.

“I’m not squeamish, it’s just you don’t normally see people covered in blood with fangs protruding from their mouths.” Sam said as you moved over to Bucky and kissed him.

“This is nothing. We’ve fucked with the two of them covered in blood and me in ash.” You told the bird. “Now, Buck why don’t you go clean up and we’ll make some food?”

“Sounds good.” Bucky said, kissing you before moving to the bathroom. Sam sat at the island and turned to face the two of you.

“You do know I’m not kissing either of you until you brush your teeth, right?”

You were a very forgetful person. Had been for 900 years. Steve and Bucky used to joke it was as if you burnt a tiny bit of your brain away when you died but they’d stopped when they saw how worried the thought made you.

You forgot simple things like the day, the month, important events and other small things that many others could forget. But sometimes, sometimes you forgot very important things like burning days.

Sometimes when you were stressed or were experiencing a lot of inner turmoil your shift would be late. When your shift was late you barely ever noticed. If you couldn’t remember the date, why would you notice your shift was late?

It had been a regular day when it happened. All your boys were busy and doing things out of the tower and you had woken up late that day. You were in the shower when it began.

The pain was immense and it came on faster than you could comprehend. One minute you’re washing your hair the next your entire body was alight and you fell to the tiled floor, dead.

Non-Reader POV

Steve and Sam had left early to go for a run. They'd spent hours running their regular course and it was only the 7th lap, well Sam's 7th anyway, they'd decided to head back to the tower.

"I see I've finished just in time." Bucky said as he met the two in the elevator. He embraced the two in a way of greeting and then leaned against the wall. "Let me guess laps?"

"Yeah. Remind me why I agree to run with a vampire?" Sam puffed, sitting on the floor.

"Because you love me." Steve said teasing the human man. "What have you been doing all morning?" Steve asked Bucky.

"Training with Nat. I swear she might as well be a vampire, the woman wakes up at the crack of dawn." Bucky told the two.

"I wonder if she'd think of that as a compliment or not." Sam mused as the elevator door opened.

"Y/N's awake." Steve announced as they entered their floor. "The shower's running." He added.

"I could go for a shower." Sam said with a grin and walked in the direction of the bathroom. Steve and Bucky shared a smirk and followed their boyfriend in the direction of their girlfriend.

The door to the bathroom was open, steam trickling into the bedroom, and Sam led the three of them into the room.

"Doll. We're back." Steve announced as they entered the tiled room. Sam pulled back the curtain and was momentarily confused to not see his girlfriend standing in front of him.

It was only when Bucky let out a startled noise that Sam looked down and saw his girlfriend. Blood stained the floor, though he could see no wound, ash and charged skin clung to her.

"Shit." Bucky exclaimed, reaching around Sam to turn the shower off. Kicking himself into action, Sam leaned down and grabbed Y/N's still from off the floor.

Steve grabbed a towel and began to clean off the burnt skin and charred remainders.

"Fuck! Is she dead? Where's the blood coming from?" Sam asked, trying to find a wound.

"Sammie, breath." Bucky said sternly. "This happens every month. The bloods probably from a wound that happened when she fell that's already healed. You need to calm down, you know she dies every month."

"Yeah at the start of the month not near the end." Sam says before beginning to control his breathing. "I'm good. I'm cool." He said after a couple seconds.

"Sam's right." Steve said, cleaning the woman's face of ash. "Y/N always burns at the start of the month."

"Not always." Bucky disagreed. "When she's stressed it gets delayed." He reminded the blonde. Steve nodded at his words and then stood.

"Alright then, let's bring her to the bedroom, get her dressed and wait for her to wake up." He said. Sam scooped the unconscious woman up and placed her on the bed. Bucky dressed Y/N in a pair of his boxers and one of Steve's shirts before laying down in bed with her.

When Y/N awoke it was to Sam and Bucky arguing over something or other. When the three men noticed she was awake Sam immediately began lecturing her, to her amusement as well as Steve and Bucky's.

"You three are going to make my hair grey." Sam complained, flopping on the bed.

Reader POV

Ever since Tony was young, he'd found it amusing that the big, tough, vampire Steve could be weakened by a pencil.

Of course he knew a stake would do a better job but when he was younger, all he had were pencils at his disposal and he thoroughly enjoyed stabbing lightly into Steve.

The first time he'd ever done it, you and Bucky panicked until you realized it was none lethal and simply a suing to watch Steve complain about a child and his pencils.

As you all aged, Tony could get his hands on real stakes but simply found more amusing to stick a pencil into Steve's hand. Over time you and Bucky didn't get panicked ta the sight and simply smiled at your partner and godson.

When Sam entered your relationship, well he hadn't ever seen it before and was rightfully terrified at the sight. If it were any other person freaking out as he had, the three of you would've laughed your assets off, but it was Sam.

Your Sam, who thought one of his partners was going to die. The three of you had to sit him down and thoroughly explain that it was just something Tony did when he was bored and that it wouldn't kill Steve.

Over time, he'd calmed down at the sight but still panicked slightly when he saw it.

The entirety of the team was sitting in the main common room. No one was really doing anything, mainly just doing trivial things to pass the time and no one was really paying attention to each other. Until,

"Ow, Tony will you quit it?" Steve demanded. You lifted your head from Bucky's shoulder and gasped at sight of seven pencils stuck in Steve's arm.

"Tony what the fuck?" You groaned, rolling your eyes at the Stark.

"Why do you have seven pencils on you?" Bucky asked as if it were the most important thing in this scenario.

"Jesus Christ, Tony. Get those out of him before it actually kills him." Sam gasped, eyes growing wide at the sight.

"He's not dying." Tony said with a pout. "Besides I'm bored."

"Stick a knife in a dummy then." Clint suggested, looking at Steve and Tony weirdly.

"Or one in Steve. Don't want to accidentally kill the man." Natasha added with a small smile.

"Anyway," Sam said, giving Natasha a look. "Take them out of his arm now." Sam said firmly, narrowing his at Tony.

"Yes Sam." Tony muttered, pouting as he pulled pencils out of Steve's arm. "You're meaner than these three sometimes."

"That's because I am sensible unlike these three. I swear you're going to give me a heart attack one day." Sam said, giving the three of you a look.

You and Bucky shared a smirk as you both leaned over to kiss his cheeks.

"You love us, Sammie." You said as Sam's cheeks darkened.

"Yeah. Yeah I do." He admitted, throwing his arms around yours and Bucky's shoulders. Steve eventually moved closer and joined hands with Sam.

Though Sam was the only human in your little quad, and the three of you were going to turn his hair grey or give him a heart attack, the four of you were happy together. It didn't matter the species difference.

Taglist

@piper-koko-barnes-rogers @skeletoresinthebasement @hopingforbarnes @agent-barnes40 @rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx

Show your support. Give it a like. Leave a comment. Share with your friends and reblog. Inbox/Message me any comments, ideas, pairings, if you would like to be added to a tag list or whatever you like.

Coming soon:

Natasha x reader x Sam x Steve x Bucky

Steve x reader x Thor

Pepper x reader x Tony

Natasha x reader x Peggy x Wanda

Bruce x reader x Thor

Bucky x reader x Steve x Peggy

Wanda x reader x Natasha

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vampiremansionpoolboy-moved · 4 years ago

Note

Glad you like the prompt~ I'll give you another in case: why oh why do they have to smell so good?

ooooh i liked this one so much so i had to do it first

another self indulgent oc writing lads (gn) yeehaw let’s go

Why oh why- does he have to smell so good?

That was the sole thought going through Benji’s head when Pedro passed him. Not anything about the mission they were about to go on, not anything about the spirit dagger he had just been handed, not even anything about the fact that he could die in the next twenty-four hours. No, none of that. The one thing he was thinking about was how good his best friend smelled.

Pedro smelled like lavender, and vanilla, and flowers, and fresh baked pies, and all that is sweet. Benji was dying to know what shampoo this boy bought. Benji wanted to walk up to Pedro and bury his face in the other boy’s hair. He was sure the smell would be so intoxicating and make him dizzy but Benji wouldn't want to pull back. He would just pull Pedro closer and closer until there was no more room between them and the sweet, sweet smell of Pedro would welcome him home. Benji vaguely wondered if Pedro had a spare hoodie lying around that he could steal. Just so he could be wrapped up in the smell of this boy that he had fallen so hard for. That he would lay down his life for.

Benji was just about to walk up to Pedro to ask if he could hug him for an excuse to smell his hair, when a thought hit him like a freight train. Pedro could smell him too. Pedro’s sense of smell was far more advanced than Benji’s due to his certain vampire traits. Meaning to Benji, Pedro smells like a fresh breath of life, but to Pedro, with his unfairly sophisticated smelling, Benji smells like 3-in-1 Men’s Deep Clean (whatever that smells like).

Suddenly stuck in his own inner turmoil Benji doesn't notice a figure approaching him. Looking up with a flash of fear expecting it to be Pedro, Benji is met by the smirking face of Quinn. She has the all-too-knowing look in her eyes and just nods to him while saying “He’s in the next room over.”

Dread overtakes him as she looks at him expectantly. Swallowing his negative feelings down, Benji stumbles to his feet and out the door.

Standing in that hallway, Benji goes through the 7 stages of effective decision making, before wrapping a hand around the handle of the door that leads to Pedro. Before he can make up his mind the door is flung open and someone is stumbling into him, spilling the contents of the jar they're clutching onto his shirt.

“Oh my god! Benji! I’m so sorry!” the person holding the jar turned out to be the one person Benji was looking for: Pedro.

Holding a hand out to touch his shirt, Pedro’s brows furrowed. “Shit, come here let me try and clean this off before it stains.”

Ignoring his jackhammering heart (and hoping Pedro can’t hear it) Benji followed his crush into the room.

“Here sit on the table, and let me grab something for your shirt.” Benji followed the orders, and watched Pedro scurry around the room grabbing things. His movements were quick and slightly frantic but fluid and graceful. Like the actions of a long-retired ballerina. Benji watched Pedro’s slender hands dab a towel in a container of something before walking up to the boy atop the table.

“May I?” Pedro asked, holding out a hand. Mutely nodding, Benji prayed that he wouldn't pass out from close proximity to someone as bright as Pedro. He was standing too close to a star and he was about to go up in flames.

Pedro leaned forward and pressed the cloth into Benji’s shirt, slowly draining the stain out. Benji tried to breathe and not black out.

“So..what is this stuff?”

“Hmm? Oh, this? Well- um haha funny story...it's vampire blood.” Pedro answered looking away.

“Is it your blood?” Benji asked, greatly concerned.

“Oh no not mine.”

“I feel like I should be worried about that statement but I’m just relieved it's not yours.” Benji said with a chuckle.

The next few minutes stretched on in silence, but they weren't uncomfortable. Benji watched Pedro as he rhythmically took the stain out of his shirt, and Pedro lost himself in the concentration of getting the stain out.

Breaking the spell of silence Pedro’s hands stopped moving and he looked up at Benji’s face. “Hey, be careful out there. I don't know what I’ll do if you don't come back.” Pedro’s hand shook as he talked, and Benji could feel it from where the hands were clenched in the fabric of his shirt. “After all, where would I be without my favorite clutz?” Pedro’s face broke out in a wobbly smile.

“You’re the clutz not me, love.” Benji said wrapping his arms around Pedro’s neck and leaning his head down to rest against the side of Pedro’s head.

Pedro’s hands fisted the material of the back of Benji’s shirt and he melted into the embrace. The two of them just stood there in their little bubble as the world around them raced onwards. But they didn't care, they just stayed there in their little world made for eachother. Made for them.

“Can- can we stay here for just a bit longer?” Pedro asked, voice muffled from where his head had moved to under Benji’s chin.

Benji hummed. “As long as we want. As long as we need.” He could feel Pedro’s smile as the boy pushed himself further into Benji’s embrace.

And so Benji buried his nose into Pedro’s hair and took a deep breath of that sweet, sweet smell, and knew that it was the smell of home.

AHHH I LIKED HOW THIS TURNED OUT SO MUCH!!

TYSM FOR THE PROMPT 💖💖

#prompt ask #writing #ask

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rosesnink · 5 years ago

Text

The Cursed Heiress, Chapter Four: An Heiress’ Price

A/N: Here we have, another chapter! I worked hard and I’m still working hard for all of this to fit and work. Soon, the chapters will be longer, but worth the read.

Summary: It’s the time of the party garden, but Joanna’s demons don’t seem to want to leave her mind in such a capital day.

TW: Minor character death.

Word Count: 6002

Previously: Prologue | Chapter I I Chapter II | Chapter III

“Joanna, please! I don’t want to d-die! I’ll be good!” The boy cried, bleeding everywhere, the field covered in white snow and the assassin nowhere in sight “I’ll be good, please! Joanna, don’t leave me!” His rosy cheeks were gone, all his skin a deadly white with some blue and purple. Joanna was trying to save him, but her magic failed “Joanna, I’m so sorry, for whatever I have done, I am so so sorry!”

Her forehead was against his, crying, holding his hand as she kissed his face and hands, sobbing and shaking, all her gown covered in blood. His blood.

“You are, Thomas. You are so good. Such a gentle, kind, smart guy. I love you, Thomas!” She cried out, watching his light blue connecting with hers. He was dying. There was no coming back. She had to act. “Let’s play a game, a’ight? Close your eyes and imagine you’re with that friendly dog I promised you” She was now fetching slowly her knife “You’re with them in the beach, playing and he’s licking your face. You are happy”

“You are there. With your strange books and hiding a smile. The dog licks you and you laugh a little.” Joanna’s heart broke entirely.

He was in pure pain, and yet he seemed happy with the image. This was her last chance. She lifted the knife as high as she could, gathering her pain and anger towards the bastard who dared to kill that poor, precious boy just because of some ruse between them. With a scream that made the ground shake, she lowered the knife, showing her beloved some piety with the big pain he was. She felt a thud, and then, she hugged his corpse, her heart falling into a dark, deep abyss.

“Joanna! Wake up! Joanna!” She felt Briar’s voice calling her, and she jumped out of her dream, sweating and with tears. Briar handed her a water goblet and drank it like it were ambrosia itself. “Again that nightmare?”. She nodded “Come here.” She hugged her, her heart was now less heavy.

Briar was still Briar, and Joanna was glad that she existed. The image of him dying in such a violent way… Elias told her that this was Gaius’s doing. He hated them, he killed those who she loved. And he wouldn’t stop until she were dead, but the Mills weren’t martyrs, they were above that ridiculous human facet. They were glorious, honorable warriors. Unlike the idiotic mortals that with some basic street-fight, sword-fighting and dumb pistols that barely hurt her were unstoppable.

She looked around, trying to memorize her mantra when her eyes lied on the mirror… And her heart dropped. There he was, his chest stabbed, his innocent turquoise, teary eyes and stammering something.

“Don’t go, it’s a trap. Don’t trust… him. He’s the key to your destruction”.

“Joanna? Are you alright?”

She tried to reach him, her voice breaking “Thomas. My Tommy”

He also reached for her as he whispered “Don’t go there. It’s a trap” When she was about to ask him again, he already vanished. Her soul dropped to her feet as she sighed, her heart aching and heavy.

She looked at the concerned Briar as she rubbed her back. She leaned her head in her chest and let her calm Joanna as she closed her eyes and remembered giggling with her mother after an annoying patient left.

You know, Joanna. One of the traditions in the Circle to show your beloved or a family member you’re fond of is giving them a brood of your spirit animal. It shows affection, respect and protects your chosen one of the outside dangers. I was about to give your father one, but you know what happened. Maybe, one day, Thomas will have a panther brood”.

They smiled at Thomas playing with his three-years-old sister a game of chase in giggles.

“Perhaps one day, mama.”

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She broke the embrace as she fetched her hunting clothes “Tell Father and Elias that I’ll be there before the first guest arrives” She went to an empty room, opened a portal and got in.

It was wet, fresh and the floor was wet because of rain. She breathed in as she could hear the faint sound of the tribes living their lives. She knew where to go and was running out of time. She took a deep breath and started running, showing that… she was as fast as a vampire. Huh, in a minute she was there. She saw how a mama panther started feeding two of the bundles as the others were slowly dying. She bowed down to the panther as she told her in a special language for animals that if it was fine for her to adopt one of her broods. She growled light in a positive response and fetched the little brood. It was a beautiful girl, amber eyes and not so black.

“I’ll name you Ella”. She saluted goodbye the panther and threw her a piece of meat before leaving.

When she got back, she bathed Ella and taught her some basics, sweet-talking her to how good her new master was. Then, she started the ritual: a protection spell, an offense spell, a defensive spell and some strength and speed, with some animal wits. She fed her as a recompense for being a good girl and kissed her tiny head. She got her to sleep and waited for Mr. Sinclaire to leave her father’s office. She played with her for a little before she heard the lords bid their goodbyes and she hid the tiny brood in her skirts as she nodded a goodbye to Mr. Sinclaire and smiled at her father.

“Hello, father. Any fun with Mr. Sinclaire?”

He chuckled “The usual” He said as he gathered some papers and put them in a safe place. He looked at her with love and tenderness and her thumb rubbed his hand.

“You know, Mama once told me a tradition of the Circle that showed pure love and affection. She wanted to give you one, but you know, the circumstances…”

He nodded with a pained nod “I still grieve her, yes”.

She called Ella and she jumped into the earl’s arms! He chuckled as the little brood licked his face and meowed him a welcome. He scratched her head and ears as she purred her very tiny body in his lap.

“I knew she’d like you”.

“Why a panther’s brood though?”.

Joanna chuckled “It’s affective. It shows that a piece of me will protect you no matter what, that will help you through hard times and love you unconditionally. Don’t tell me you can say no to this bundle of joy” She teased.

The brood meowed with cute eyes and that convinced the earl. He scratched her little jaw and answered “I accept your gift. Thank you, Joanna”.

“I’ll let you both bond”.

She got out of the office as she saw Elias approach. She smiled at him as a greet and saw an amused smile on his face. He barely smiled and when he did, he was up to something. He looked around and then to he whispered “I got a surprise for you. Some new partner to fight with. Come”

She followed him without understanding until she saw a man: He had black eyes, abundant, long hair and a good complexion. He bowed in respect and she did back “His name is Daniel, he’s a highly trained warrior of the Circle and a big promise to dethrone you from your title of ‘Warrior of the Century’. Go easy on him, he has a sensible heart” He mocked as he left them some space.

“Alright, big guy. Do show me your talents”.

They both in defensive position and he ran fast to her, but not fast enough to duck with a cartwheel and throw him a ball of snow and whistled him to come. She ran towards him, jumped very high and punched him to the point to make a severe hole in the floor. He grunted and punched her in the face, thing that…hurted. She yelped and snarled “That…hurts!” And she punched him twice, dodged one punch and blocked the other, kicked him in the knee and with strength, she hurled him out of the way, ran there fast and casted the air spell that sent him away of prying eyes and she threw him a punch at the same time as him, both of them getting bruised. She growled and jumped again, kicking him four times in the face, neck and head and her legs wrapped around his neck and made a deadly spin that threw them both to the ground. He jabbed her leg, making it crack and grabbed her hair, punching her hard again. She grunted and spitted dark blood and with one hand, she pulled back together her broken leg, cracked the bones of her head and knuckles and casted a fire spell, blasting him with a raging inferno… but did nothing.

It can’t be… He is an equal to me!

She understood she was sort of hurting her own kin and sputtered “We don’t really have to go on. It’s pretty clear we’re equally good”

If Elias said a damn thing about this moment, she’d stab herself before admitting it.

But he didn’t seem to be in the mood, for he grabbed her by the neck and hurled her far away in the forest. She got on her feet fast and yelled “Fine! I see you! You want the big dog defeated? Well, you’ll have to do better than that” She ran towards his direction, jumping on his neck and waist and throwing them both to the floor and punching his shoulder hard, making him grunt and she made a backflip, getting on position and threw him a kick on his waist, making him double faintly, then a spin that drew a high kick on his head and got her body on the ground but her chest and head, throwing him on the floor and she spinned on the floor, grabbing him by the neck and grunted “You’re no match for me” She got up, lifting him up with a super strength out of nowhere and hurled him to a big tree and ran fast, kicked him straight in the inner ribs and made an spectacular needle that sent him flying up to the sky, landing on whatever place it was. She wiped out the blood off her nose and yelled “That happens when you come for a Mills, asshole!”

When she went back to Edgewater, the servants and the Dowager Countess gasped when she saw her granddaughter “Joanna, what happened to you? Your left eye and your cheekbone is purple, not to mention your inner lip is bleeding!” She screamed horrified. Joanna rolled her eyes and got off the servant’s grasp and assured “Give me ten minutes and I shall be a new woman. Just trust me” She got into the house and looked into her room’s mirror and started the healing spell on her face, how the bruises now disappeared. She sighed happy and heard some humming down the hall. She found Miss Parsons there, humming a song happily and she leaned teasingly on the frame, watching her silently, in the shadows.

The way her skirts moved, her hair was caressing the air and her tan skin illuminated the boring white walls amazed Joanna. She smiled as she approached her like a sleathy cat and asked “Enjoying yourself?”.

Miss Parsons gasped as she turned on her heels to see the young lady and mumbled “My lady! I didn’t saw you at all! I was awaiting the Dowager Countess…”.

“I bet my position to this estate that is to do some ladylike things for the garden party” She vowed. Miss Parsons chuckled as a worrisome Dowager Countess got into the house and her jaw dropped when she saw how flawless Joanna looked like now.

“Joanna, you look…” She coughed and composed herself “… like you’re ready to learn some lessons from Miss Parsons”,

“And what lessons could those be?” She muttered mockingly.

“In the garden party you’ll see a lot of dancing. Since you seem to handle the leisure, I summoned Miss Parsons here to teach you some lessons. I even arranged some new shoes for you” She said, proud of herself.

“I don’t like you spending money on me” Joanna protested.

“Don’t worry, dear, it wasn’t a big purchase. Go on, try them!” She encouraged.

She looked between Miss Parsons, her grandmother and the shadow of Elias and sighed, getting off her shoes and tried on her newest shoes “I guess I could learn more of the English culture” She shrugged.

“That’s the spirit! Now, I’ve got some new dances you’ll love!”.

“Go on, by all means”.

And with that, her grandmother excused her and the minutes flied as she learned how to dance a noble English dance. After that, she said she had to do an arrangement and portal-ed some flowers and money to Thomas’s family before she tried on a new pink dress and went to the garden.

Let the party begin, indeed.

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The guests were dancing and chatting, some eating pastries and mingling. Elias was on a secret trip and she was on her own. She spotted her father talking to Mr. Sinclaire (again) and curtsied in greet.

“Father, sir. Don’t you both look… dashing?” She commented to both men.

Her father chuckled as Mr. Sinclaire blushed and sputtered some nonsense before composing himself and answered “I appreciate it, my lady. You look… adequate for the festivities”.

Joanna scoffed mockingly “I’ll pretend I heard you say ‘rather dashing, too’ than… adequate of all adjetives that you could’ve used”

The earl patted her shoulder and asked “Elias told me that the parties and balls are very different where you come from”.

A smile on her face appeared “Indeed! Our musicians play more danceable songs, our dresses are not so tight for our figure and the gardens are far more decorative and full of flowers that you’d never find in years. Our Queen attends every ball and dances with every guest she can, she even sings! Every person can dance with anyone they’d like and all crea- ahem, other people of other kingdoms come to them and mingle, even the servants! I’m sure mama showed you one dance or another”.

“Ah, yes! She taught me that courting dance with a red rose on our mouths and lots of spinning and heel-slam and rather low dips” He gushed. She smiled wide.

“The Rose Petal! That is the most sensual and passionate dance all over this universe. It is danced by literal soulmates. The rose in each of their mouths represent the red thread. Mama taught you that one to say ‘you’re my forever soulmate’.” She beamed at the tale.

Mr. Sinclaire listened closely as he commented “What else you do in parties, rather than shockingly hang out with other people and dance? There must be a purpose to invite such a big number of people”.

She scoffed “Not all is about conspiracies and business, just pure leisure and fun. My city is rather… wild. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow of if we’ll wake up safe, so we just… follow our heart. We also have our own duties, but I assure you, these are different to yours”.

“How so?” He cocked his head to one side.

“We don’t sell poor girls to marriages to men who are way older than them. In fact, marriage is not so important. Both sexes have the same goal: wisdom, glory and sense of duty to their legacies. We can be valid without a husband or a wife, money and titles. Our Queen Amalas came from the dust and greater dangers of the street as a member of dangerous thieves to be chosen royalty. Every century we choose a new monarch”.

Both men’s eyes went wide as they both asked at the same time “You choose your monarch?”.

Joanna giggled as she nodded “Yes! It is a monarch duty to give, help and assist their people more than some random group of rich pricks.”

Mr. Sinclaire was impressed and surprised “Intimate dances, no marriage, equal education, peasants that turn into monarchs… Your city is very odd, my lady.”

She chuckled and teased “You mean… ahead of yours?”.

He sputtered until he recomposed himself “That’s… one way to see it, yes”.

The earl looked between them, amused and commented “I see you both don’t need me anymore. Alas, I’ve seen a… tenant of mine I must do some business”.

And before she could ever stop him, he left. She looked at Mr. Sinclaire and coughed “So… you seem like the kind of man who isn’t very keen of garden parties”.

��It’s not about the party, my lady. It is the leisure”.

“Let me guess… Big crowds annoy you, most people annoy you and dancing and chatting is not your forte?”.

“I- You assume my personality very quickly”.

“It’s all in the actions and body language, sir. One of the first things I was taught: psychology. The way you move your hands, response and stand in the party tells more of you than you can imagine”.

“Psychology? Isn’t that more of… science?”.

“Not at all! More like a literate thing. And some knowledge in human leisure, study of behavior…” She smirked “Didn’t you told me that small talk is not your forte? Well, try beat me at a deep conversation. Unless… you’re scared of a woman who seems to be smarter on these things than you, a man’s kind of conversation topic”. She challenged, a smirk on her face and getting close to him “And I can’t deny that a man who can trap my mind in a deep conversation wakes in me such a passion…” With one finger she caressed the vein of his hand and he shuddered and looked straight to his eyes “That if you can handle my wits”.

“You assume that the nobility is ignorant?”.

“The majority of them, yes. I’m still looking for exceptions. No luck yet”.

He got a step back as he looked at her warily. She never stopped the eye contact, and neither did he. It was the first time she felt in an uncomfortable silence, a calm one. They were still talking with the eyes, no words needed. Until a loud complain of Miss Sutton interrupted them.

“It can’t be! I thought I had it, Mr. Marlcaster! Didn’t you see that?”.

“I did, but it seems like you missed”. Joanna could sense he wanted to hurl himself to the sun, and he couldn’t blame him. Human parties were torturous. Mr. Sinclaire looked at her.

“Have you ever played skittles, Lady Joanna?”.

“I…” Her breath catched as she remembered it.

She concentrated her stick as she bit her lip, trying to hit that damn red ball to win. She felt two familiar hands surrounding her hips and kissing her cheek. She chuckled and leaned to the touch.

“We’re in public, Tommy”.

“Is it forbidden to hug my beautiful fianceé?”.

“No, but we’re making one hell of an spectacle”.

He guided her hands in a position and helped her hit it… and pointed the damn ball! She laughed and kissed Thomas’s cheek. A little blush was over there and Mary chuckled.

“Good game, guys, but those hands to yourself”. And with that, they separated and Thomas giggled. She chuckled and bite her lip, blushing a little.

After the match, they found themselves in the gardens of Thomas’s employer house, kissing and giggling, his hands clumsily moving on her back as hers were on his neck and hair, sighing of happiness.

“Thomas, I—”.

“Shh, don’t worry, Jo. Only when you mean it and you’re ready”.

She nodded and kissed him again.

The garden and all the eyes on her came again as she snapped out of the memory and composed herself.

“… Did. One time, two years ago. Haven’t played much. I do remember the basics though”.

“I’ll let you know, my lady, I haven’t lost in years”. Mr. Sinclaire commented with a smug face.

She scoffed and challenged “I’ll let you know, too… I never lose”.

“Perhaps you can prove me wrong”.

“Oh, sir, that’s my job. Prove smug cocky pricks wrong”.

“This should be very interesting”. He smiled, like a Greek statue and she adjusted her bun.

They both catched positions and Mr. Sinclaire handed Joanna a game ball.

“Ladies first… you do remember how to play, right?”.

She looked at him “This game is awfully simple. I roll the ball down the alleyway and try hit the red pin, yes”.

Mr. Woods set up the game and she took a deep breath as she looked at the game, unconsciously bite her lip and repeated the rest of the rules over her breath

“If you knock it over, you’ll score over every pin I hit. The most points I gather during the five legs, the more chances to win”. She looked at Mr. Sinclaire “Step aside and watch this”.

She turned the focus on the alleyway and calculated for three seconds a half before she aimed to hit the center pin and knock the four legs! She smirks to herself and winks at Mr. Sinclaire.

“I have to admit it was quite impressive, but you haven’t seen the master yet”.

“Hah! Dazzle me indeed!”.

She retrieved the ball across the lawn and handed it to Mr. Sinclaire. Their fingers brush for a moment and she feels a bolt of electricity, but she ignores it. Men… they’re all talk.

Mr. Sinclaire rolls the ball and it rolls and rolls faster until… crash! Eight of the pins fall over, the last one remaining wobbles back and forth, but stays upright. Joanna observes the tactic showing no emotion. Mr. Sinclaire’s smug face stays still “That’s eight points for me”.

Joanna raises an eyebrow “Don’t go ahead yourself, it’s only the first round. What reaction did expect, to be honest? Clap you and praise you? Pah!”.

Mr. Sinclaire got taken aback by her words, but stayed composed.

“You think you can do better?”.

“That shot you’ve seen it’s just a warm up. I’m a master shooting things” She winked at him with an expressionless face and grabbed the ball.

During the next few minutes, as the game comes closer to the end, everyone gathers to see how it might end between some whispers and sushes she can perfectly hear. At least they’re not calling her bastard… for now. She trusted no one in that garden but her father.

“Mr. Marlcaster, oh Mr. Marlcaster! This is so intense I can hardly control my heart palpitations!” Miss Sutton commented.

“… Try, Miss Sutton. There’s not much at stake”.

Is he always a dipshit to her or it’s just bitchy genes?

Miss Bowman agreed “But she’s right! Lady Joanna is winning by two points!”.

Joanna raises an eyebrow to them, wondering if they’d survive seeing her in battle with the rabid werewolves. Those raged creatures always leave her covered in blood and with a very ugly scratches like some wild raccoon. Mr. Sinclaire hands her the skittles ball.

“Last turn, my lady. Make it count”.

“By making it count you mean wiping the floor with your defeat? Oh, I will”.

Before he can answer, she lifts her index finger, making him stop and lines up to strike. She decides to make it more wonderful and her left index finger and thumb makes a silent, blind spell to hit the red pin without effort and looks straight to Mr. Sinclaire, smiling at him seductively. He watches her intently.

She releases the ball… and hits the red pin! All the people clap and Mr. Sinclaire is shocked. She sends him a faint kiss, making him fluster. She smirks “Buena suerte”. She hands him the ball and crosses her arms.

Mr. Sinclaire hurls the ball… but it only grazes far the right one! Joanna tries not to laugh. Ah, she loves putting smug pricks on their places so much.

“What?” He complains.

“Aaand the novice is the victor! You were a nice rival, though, if that helps”.

The crowd around applauds and she smirks at him.

“I may say that you certainly kept me on my toes, my lady”.

“That’s my thing, sir”.

“By any chance you speak Spanish?” He asked curiously.

“Sí, hablo español, French, Prussian, Italian and Native American. I speak also other dead languages and…” She also knew some intergalactic languages and demonic languages, but she scandalized the poor man enough “That’s it”.

Mr. Sinclaire was certainly impressed “You must be quite a fluid speaker of those languages in such a young age and your former rank”.

She shrugged “I’m a quick study”.

“For a woman who thought herself as rusty in skittles, you were quite… impressive”.

“What can I say? I raise in a better way, like a Phoenix”.

“I believe a rematch is in order?” He suggested, a beaming smile on his face.

Joanna chuckled in delight “Eager to see me wiping the floor with your reputation, sir?”.

“I assure you, my lady, my ‘reputation’ won’t be seem damaged. Though I can’t say the same about yours”.

“I can take care of my reputation just fine, sir. Do set the pins! A new game is afoot!”.

But before anyone could react, the dowager countess called Joanna across the lawn. She sighed as she looked at the tall man beside her “Rain check, mayhaps?”.

“My dear Joanna, there you are!” The dowager beamed.

Nefertiti, my Goddess, this better be good.

Her grandmother approached the two of them, and Joanna noticed an older man trailing closely behind her. She raises an eyebrow at them both and shows her usual poker face.

“Joanna, I would like to formally introduce you to the Duke Tristan Richards of Karlington”.

So, that was the old man who seemed unable to find a wife sooner? He better be worth it.

“How do you do, Lady Joanna?”.

She took him in and tried not to grimace.

Is this a punish, my Goddess? Because if it’s the case, you have outdone yourself with me.

The Duke kissed her hand intently, not letting go and she had to fight the instinct to snap his jaw like a wooden stick. Like, really hard.

“Even since your arrival, I have been counting the minutes to finally meet you”.

In that moment, she wanted to hurl herself to the sun and die burnt.

“You Grace… I also looked forward meeting, well, you”. No. Not at all. “My dear lady grandmother talked nothing but—”

“I can only hope my charms and good looks haven’t disappointed”.

“I… your what?”

“In fact” he continued “They sung glorious tales of my good deeds and handsomeness!”.

Oh, if he heard the ‘songs’ of Elias and his heroics and how fast he got in the maid’s bed, he’d be crying in a corner, buried and in Hell.

The Duke tries to pull her close, but she is way stronger than him and remains in her position, shocking both men for a second. The Duke smiles aggressively to Mr. Sinclaire.

“What do you think you are—”

“Lady Joanna, you shouldn’t waste your time among common folk like here Mr. Sinclaire when you deserve so much more!”.

She releases the grab with a small move and her poker faces turns into a wary one “I appreciate your advice, but I’m grown enough to know my worth and who I ‘waste’ my time with. I was not so long ago… what did you said? Common folk?”.

Mr. Sinclaire seemed shocked at the answer but remained composed and the Duke seemed to snap at her, but recomposed himself with a smug smile “But perhaps he may have told you tales of my greatness?”.

If they start gauging their manhoods I’ll cast them a spell to get lost.

“What ‘greatness’ do you refer, Your Grace? I was under impression that all those tales were merely fiction”.

Oof, I’ve seen injures in battles that looked ugly, but that one? That would’ve sent him flying across the damn forest, she thought to herself, trying not to laugh.

“If you think hard enough, sir, I’m sure that something will come to mind”.

Apart of you being such an imbecile?

“Tell me, how is Ledford Park anyway? I haven’t seen it since—”

“It’s better than the last you left, Your Grace. If you will excuse me. Lady Joanna, Dowager Countess… Duke Richards”. And with that, he left.

Joanna turned to Duke Richards and rolled her eyes “If this is the part where everyone expects me to meddle in a gentlemen’s issues… Then, I shall pass of asking anything. You’re both grown enough”.

“Don’t worry. Mr. Sinclaire has never been fond of me. I think he’s jealous”.

“There’s plenty to be envious of! Your good looks, your fortune, good reputation…”.

She raised an eyebrow to the dowager countess but said anything.

“Ah, yes, poor Mr. Sinclaire. He lacks everything I have… I pity the man, honestly”.

Well, I pity you. You’re just a pathetic gramps who cannot accomplish anything by yourself and lacks of personality.

She saw a Royal Guard of Amalas and raised her finger again as she approached him. A Royal Guard would never approach someone if it were anything but serious. He had a message in there and a worrisome gaze.

“Azat. Is something wrong? Is Elias injured?”.

“Worse, ma’am. Much worse. Here, read” He handed her the paper and read the message:

My dear child, I have a very bad news you must know before anything may happen.

I have heard that someone has placed a price upon your head, all based on a prophecy that assures that you may bring destruction to our universe and wants to wipe your blood.

All the kingdoms are now preparing to hunt you down and follow the anonymous leader that remains in the shadows.

I must tell you what I know: you have a power that you’ve started to develop. You are not a mistake, child. You were supposed to born. You have a special, unique bloodline that upholds the greatest power of them all. All the reigns awaited your birth, but there are some conservative creatures that want you made ashes. But you must hold strong and await until it’s safe to come to me and have the real conversation. All the path you are about to cross, it’s all to shape you to be the greatest change that all the creatures have witnessed.

Stay strong, train hard and nurture your wiles. We may seek each other soon.

Yours Sincerely,

Queen Amalas and Holy Voice of the Goddess Nefertiti.

All the world seemed to stop as she processed everything. The voices, how she unconsciously closed the letter so no one could see it, how her grandmother called her to check on her and Duke Richards. Even her Father was there, calling her to come back to reality and the whispers of the crowd. All of that was distant, it all froze.

She was something made up. She was never desired by her mother, she was a duty. And her poor father… he knew all of that? It all made an awful sense: her super-speed, her sudden strength, those belonged to a vampire. But there were already some hybrids of that. And the letter vowed that she was unique in her species.

What the hell I am?

She needed to get out, she needed to think, she needed to breathe. She pushed away all of the people and ran fast, very fast. She found herself of all sudden in the depths of the forest. She looked around, her heart beating fast. Her head was spinning, the world was spinning. She was shaking, her whole body like a bomb reaching its explosion.

Don’t hold back, my child. Do it. Release it.

She parted her arms and screamed as hard as she could, making the whole earth shake and the wind like a raging gale. She dropped on her knees, trying to breathe, her whole body dry and allowed herself to be weak. She’d come back later.

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When she came back to the party, they all behaved like anything happened, but her Father reached her and embraced her tight.

“My child, what happened? You were pale”.

“I’ll tell you later. This is not the place to discuss it”.

He sighed as he rubbed his thumb on her hand and smiled in act of courage.

“Wait in here. I have one surprise”.

He reached a glass and everyone looked at him.

“If I may have everyone’s attention… I’d like to say a few words”. Joanna was puzzled at his words as everyone gathered around her father. “The last year was a rough one. I lost my son, Harry, but within that sorrow, I discovered the existence of my newly-discovered daughter, Lady Joanna”. He smiled as the next words went out of his mouth “We haven’t known each other for long, yet in a short time I see that Edgewater holds a special place in her heart… Her love for these lands reminds me of my own.” He looked straight to her eyes as he dedicated that sentence to her and only her “My darling girl, I know I haven’t been there for you in your childhood and had endured bad things to come to me, but I’d like it to make it up to you”. He smiles widely in what it seems like an announcement “I’d like to announce here and now that I have rewritten my will. When I pass away, and I do hope that it’ll be for years, that the Edgewater state will fall to Lady Joanna Mills of Edgewater!”.

Her mouth dropped as she realized what just happened “That... Would make me an heiress! I—I’m not often left speechless!”.

“Joanna, I hoped for this since the day I sent for you, but I knew the odds were good that prove you unsuitable”.

The countess approached the earl and hissed in his ear “And she has!”.

The earl ignored her as he took Joanna’s hand in his.

“Since our first meeting, you have proven yourself over and over that you are my blood and a suitable heiress of the Edgewater estate”.

“Father, I’ll do everything in my hand to honor you and your legacy. I swear it”.

This was Nefertiti’s will? To be an heiress? No, there must be more. She knew the goddess’s schemes and with a price in her head, she’d be fighting time trial. Her new, flourishing powers, the estate, all those people she met and would meet… it all had a purpose, and she’d discover it soon.

Her father pulled her aside, speaking quietly “I know this goes against your laws in the circle, there is a stipulation I had to make to ensure your destiny. I know it might be too much, but there’s a mortal rule here that for inherit Edgewater, you must marry someone of suitable rank”.

“What? You must be joking! I cannot marry a mortal! It is my duty to marry someone in the Circle! I must be equal with my spouse!”.

“It is the only way to ensure that the estate will be safe and yours. But to help you out... you’ll make your debut in this London season! You’ll be leaving in a few days’ time!”

No… not this. She had to catch her hunter and find a mortal spouse… how the hell would she do that without be disowned or killed?

Whatever her goddess is pretending to do with her, it might be the most difficult quest a witch has ever faced. But she was a Mills. She’d find her destiny and make justice to her mother. Whatever it takes.

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Tagging: @lorirwritesfanfic @missameliep @hellospunkiebrewster @kamilahsqueen @marlcasters @park-nazario @amomentofsinclairity @princess-geek @lovemychoices @nia-kamilah @i-put-the-sin-in-sinclaire

#playchoices fanfiction #desire and decorum #desire and decorum au #supernatural au #ernest sinclaire #duke richards #briar daly #annabelle parsons #the cursed heiress #tw: death

18 notes · View notes

1-1snailxd-art · 6 years ago

Note

Caretaker Prompts 19 and 15 with angst. May I suggest in a Hunger Games setting or the like?

15 “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

19 “Just keep pressure on it.”

I know you said Hunger Games, but because my brain is like a revolving door I couldn’t get anything that was really flowing well with that (I’m not big into Hunger Games. I’ve only read and seen the first one).

So, I went for a Supernatural style universe with Vampires and Werewolves that I kinda came up with ages ago.

Relationships/Character: There’s no romance here - Deceit/Declan (Father figure/Alpha - Born from magic and connected to a snake spirit), Roman and Remus are 17-year-old twin pure-blood werewolves (parents were both wolves rather than being turned, giving them enhanced senses, strength and healing), Virgil is a 3-year-old pure-blooded Vampire (parents were both vampires), and Logan is a 17-year-old human 😝

Warnings: Blood mentioned, panic, vomit mentioned

Words: 2333

Summary: Babysitting was meant to be an easy way for Logan to earn money, but turned deadly when vampires came to hunt the child in his care. Supernatural beings or not, Logan was willing to risk his life for the boy and show he was stronger with nothing but human blood in his veins.

_________________________

“Just keep pressure on it.” Remus instructed, shifting aside for Roman to take his place. “I’m going to clear the perimeter.”

“Be careful.”

His twin nodded and hurried down the stairs, leaving Roman alone with a bleeding and grunting Logan.

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry. This wasn’t meant to happen.”

Roman felt horrible listening to the other boy cry out in agony as he adjusted his position to control the bleeding from his stomach.

“He gonna die, Ro? Did I- Did I did it?”

His three-year-old brother shuffled out of the bedroom, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the splatter of blood that coated his face and ninja turtle pyjamas.

“No, buddy. You didn’t do this okay. Just go back in the room and wait.”

“But tha teef.”

Sighing, Roman glanced from the stab wound in Logan’s stomach to the mess that was his shoulder. Fangs had sliced through flesh with the ease akin to a hot knife through butter but was thankfully clear of his face so Roman didn’t need to worry that he had been turned. The vampires who attacked the house were out to kill, not turn or feed, and Virgil’s mouth was too small to do that much damage even if he was rampaging.

“They’re not your teeth, Vee. I promise you; you didn’t hurt the babysitter.”

“Logan.” Virgil said firmly, tears falling faster as he got more worked up. “His name’s, Logan.”

Watching his brother cry was heartbreaking for the older sibling and he had to fight the urge to scoop him up and away in the safety of his embrace, but he knew he couldn’t. Virgil’s eyes were glued to Logan, tiny chest heaving with hiccupped sobs and worsening every time the injured man made a sound.

“Virge, buddy, you need to get back in the room.” Roman was desperate for Remus to return, or even their father for that matter, just so someone could help Virgil before he had another vampire to deal with. “I promise I will help Logan, but I need you safe first.”

The small nod as Virgil shuffled back should have offered some reassurance but Roman’s senses peaked; his inner wolf smelling a change in his little brother’s system.

Turning towards the stairs, he focused on working out how far away Remus was.

"Roman?“ The toddlers voice shook just as his body trembled; eyes growing in realisation and the brown of his left iris faded to grey.

“Virgil, in the room, now!”

He hated to yell but his tone was harsh enough to shake Virgil into action, scurrying into the room and slamming the door shut.

“We’ve gotta move, Logan. I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt like a bitch.”

“Just get it over with.” Logan huffed, gritting his teeth as pain exploded through his body when Roman tried to lift him up.

A growl rumbled deep in Roman’s throat when he rose, thankful Logan had remained conscious enough to hook his usable arm around his neck and make the carry at least a little easier. Normally lifting someone Logan’s size would be easy, but after fighting off a whole vampire nest he was almost spent. Kicking the front door open, Roman rushed to his cars back door, thankful it was still open from when he and Remus had arrived at the house.

"Roman!“ Remus called out and ran over to the car as his twin slid into the driver’s seat. “Perimeters clear but I think one sucker got away.”

“We’ll deal with that and Dad later. Vee is turning.”

“What? I thought you told the babysitter to give him his meds?”

“I did.” Came the grunted reply from the backseat and the twins exchanged a worried look.

“He’s getting worse than.” Starting the car, Roman shifted into reverse and gave Remus a concerned look. “Be careful, Duke.”

“Same to you, Princey.”

Carefully heading back into the house, Remus paused to sift through the heavy vampire scent that hung in the air until he located Virgil’s; surprised to find it still concentrated at the top of the stairs. Slipping into the kitchen, Remus collected a plastic bottle from the fridge that contained a mix of herbs, animal blood and milk. To anyone else, the combination was vile, and the smell alone tormented the twins sensitive noses, but it was the best thing in the world to Virgil.

At the top of the stairs, Remus braced himself for his adopted brother to jump out and attack him, but nothing happened. He could hear the toddler breathing from the other side of the door, but they weren’t moving at all; vastly different to the other times he had shifted.

“Virgil? You okay, little buddy?”

The door creaked as Remus pushed it open, spotting the toddler shivering on the bed next to a puddle of vomit. Holding his arms up in surrender, Remus eyed him carefully as he stepped into the room.

“It’s okay. Dukey isn’t going to hurt you, alright? I’m just here to help.”

“Go -way.” Remus froze in shock that Virgil had managed to speak, spotting the rows of sharp teeth that now protruded from his gums. “I hurt you.”

“Oh, I don’t think you will.”

“I will.” Virgil insisted, pushing himself back against the headboard to stay away from his brother. “I kill.”

“Virgil, you won’t hurt me.” Sitting at the edge of the bed, Remus kept his voice level and calm; though he was ready to defend if Virgil suddenly turned on him.

“How ju know? I done’d it b-fore.”

“I know because every other time you’ve turned, you have attacked on instinct. Right now, you’re talking, Virgil. You’re in control of your instincts right now and I’m part of your nest. You’re in my pack and I’m part of your nest; we won’t hurt each other, I promise.”

Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room for a few moments, then the toddlers face shifted from fear to sadness. Not wanting to make a move in case he triggered an instinctual attack, Remus watched and waited until Virgil crawled towards him on his own.

“It hurts, Dukey.”

“It’s okay.” Opening his arms, Virgil gratefully climbed onto his lap and accepted the comforting embrace. “The pain will dull when you’ve fed. I’ve got your drink right here and there is more if you need it, okay?”

“k.”

Shifting around so he was comfortable, Virgil accepted the bottle and started to drink; though he was soon unscrewing the lid when the plastic pop top limited the pace he desperately wanted to consume the liquid at.

“Are you feeling better or do you need more?”

“My no-sh-e -till hurt.” Virgil complained, wrinkling his nose further when he took a breath in.

“That would be from all the blood scents around here. You’re not as use to having to filter it out as Roman and I.”

Remus looked around the room at the blood splatter from Logan’s impromptu battle, genuinely impressed that a normal human could have fended off so many vampires while protecting the toddler they were after.

“Why don’t we get cleaned up, grab you another drink and take Logan’s car for a drive until your fangs retract?”

“Ok, but what -bout Dad?” Virgil wrapped his arms and legs around Remus when he stood and watched him carefully step around the headless vampires in the hall to reach the bathroom.

“Dad will find us, don’t you worry about that.”

****************

Logan loss consciousness some time during the drive but was thankfully still breathing when Roman sped up to the hospital and cried out for help; struggling to pull him out of the car now he was completely deadweight. Following what seemed like a million questions and 20 minutes of a nurse fussing over his own cuts, Roman was finally left to his own devices in the waiting area; giving up trying to call his Dad after leaving his 15th voice message.

He was hanging upside down on the chair when Remus came in; a sleepy Virgil on his hip.

“I thought you two would have found a park to hang out in, since the sun is finally up.”

“That was my plan,” Remus admitted, glad to feel his little brothers breathing even out as he fell asleep; “but the little nightmare wouldn’t stop nagging me to come. I would’ve preferred getting my ears boxed than listen to it for another hour, and now we’re here, he falls asleep.”

Sitting up properly, Roman laughed and held out his arms so Remus could manoeuvre the youngest into his arms.

“Better asleep than freaking out on us.”

“Nah, I said he was fine.” Sitting on the chair opposite, Remus pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his notifications. “Fangs retracted after 15minutes and he was satisfied with two doses. Considering I was expecting to have him hanging from my neck like last time, it was a welcomed surprise.”

“You think telling Dad that will stop him from killing us for leaving Virgil with a human.”

“Only if we also leave out the fact that a vamp nest attacked the house.”

Exchanging a glance, the twins groaned and spoke in time.

“We’re dead.”

**************

The sun had set when Declan arrived at the hospital, half furious after hearing the twins messages and half worried out of his mind. He double checked his concealment charm was still effectively hiding his scaled side before entering the building, shaking off his damp trench coat once he was walking the warm halls.

Four days prior he’d left the boys at a secluded Airbnb to follow a promising lead on Virgil’s birth parent, assuming the hostile vampire nest tracking the pure-blooded toddler wouldn’t pick up their trail for at least a few more days. Returning to the trashed house made his blood run cold, though it quickly reheated hearing the twins had left their adopted brother to investigate a reported werewolf pack. Of course, it had been a trick, false reports given to encourage them out of hiding; Declan could’ve seen it a mile away and he regretted his radio silence even more now.

As he neared the room assigned to some boy attacked in the woods, Declan was prepared to reprimand the twins in the harshest way possible. Each step brought him closer to grabbing Virgil and storming off, but when he reached the door, he found himself frozen. He saw Remus passed out on a hospital bed, looking just as exhausted as his twin in the bedside chair despite both of them clearly being in a deep sleep. Resting a hand on the door, Declan could feel the warding they had obviously put on it to protect the room; something that would have exhausted them without his assistance.

It was Virgil’s position that intrigued him the most. The toddler was perched carefully alongside the boy on the furthest bed, looking more peaceful than he had since his vampiric blood started taking affect.

“Excuse me,” a nurse called from the door over, “can I help you with anything, sir?”

“I’m the boys’ father, well, to three of them anyway. I’m Declan Fidi.” He held out a black gloved hand which the woman shook with a smile.

“You have some brave and lucky boys Mr Fidi. The whole staff agree that the twins quick thinking saved Logan’s life. Did you train them in first aid?”

“I wouldn’t have let them go out into that forest if I hadn’t.” Turning back to the viewing window a thought came to mind. “The boy - um - Logan, are his family around? I would like to have a word before I take my troupe away.”

“I’m sorry, but Logan doesn’t have family. He’s part of the local group home.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for your help anyway. I should probably get these boys to a proper bed and out of your hair.”

“Oh, they’ve been no trouble at all. Logan will be here for a few days at least, so feel free to bring the boys back if you like. I’m sure their visits will be welcomed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Pushing the door open, Roman and Remus bolted awake instantly at the call of their warding; heads dropping in shame when they registered their father had entered.

“I’ll spare you two the lecture on your stupidity for later.”

“Yes, sir.” They said in unison, standing and stretching their tired muscles.

Declan moved to Logan’s bed and carefully picked Virgil up, the toddler whimpering as his sleep was disturbed.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He assured, rubbing Virgil’s back while he settled into his shoulder. “You’re alright.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, buddy. We’re going somewhere safe to sleep, okay.”

Leaning back, Virgil looked into his father’s eyes, tears lining his own.

“But Logan -“

“We’ll come back tomorrow.”

Declan pulled Virgil’s purple hood over his head and encouraged him to lean on his shoulder again, nodding for the twins to head out the door before he followed.

They walked in silence back to the car park, Declan telling the twins to get in his van rather than taking the second car.

“You can work on cleaning it when we come back tomorrow.”

“Wait, you were serious about coming back?” Roman questioned, helping to buckle Virgil into his car seat.

“We’re not ditching town straight away?” Remus added.

“No. Roman’s got a car to clean, you’ve got a house to clean up, and I’ve got to see about adding to Virgil’s nest.”

The twins jaws dropped and watched Declan casually climb into the front seat in shock.

“You would let Logan join our pack?”

“Even though he’s a human?”

“A human wouldn’t have taken down three vamps alone. He’s not a human,” Declan chuckled at the thought of how shocked the vampires would have been. “He’s a hunter and a lost soul; just what our family needs.”

_____________________________

End Note: Smol Vampire Virgil had to happen. Don’t tell me you never thought about it. This was a universe I made months ago. I had a whole back story planned out. Maybe one day I’ll write it, or do art for it or just make it an ask AU or something. Honestly, I have too many ideas some times but just not enough brains and concentration to write it all.

Prompt from this list.

More writing from the Caretaker Prompt ListWriting master post

General tag list (let me know if you want on or off): @thequeensphinx @ollyollyoxinfree @celeste-tyrrell @pumpkinminette @ahyeahisurehopeit-does

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eternityunicorn · 6 years ago

Text

When Death Meets Life - Part Five

Author: eternityunicorn

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Smut

Summary: AU - Set in TO Season 3 and Season 5 - Elijah Mikaelson was a creature of death, an Original vampire designed to take life. One night, while searching for a missing Hayley, who was cursed to remain a wolf by Niklaus, he encounters a most wondrous creature, one opposite to himself. This being is a creature of life - a unicorn! He witnesses her breathing life back into a group of dead werewolves. He finds himself amazed by her, but then she vanishes like a dream. Who is she? Will he ever find out?

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New Orleans - 2025

On the way to the Louisiana town, Eternity had requested that Klaus summon two people, one named Rebekah and the other Kol there. Elijah sensed those names were familiar to him, just like the hybrid they rode on a plane together with all the way back to the States and then climbed into an awaiting Ford Expedition.

The amnesiac had a million questions he wanted to ask both his companions about who he was, but refrained. He wanted to see the world he had come from with his own eyes first, before asking anything that might influence his choice as to whether or not he should return to his old life.

Klaus hadn’t seem very keen on conversing anyway. He remained quiet and seemed worried the whole trip. Eternity has tried to comfort him, but the hybrid had continued to be skeptical of her abilities to help him. He must have been the type to need to see things with his own eyes,

Before long, they were all standing in the inner courtyard of the Abattoir with a tall blonde coming to meet them. The storm caused by the two men’s close proximity, as well as the whispers and the painful tugging had been kept to a dull roar with Eternity’s powers. The new familiar face was named Freya Mikaelson, a witch who turned out to be Niklaus’s and Elijah’s older sister.

Immediately, the Mikaelson witch relayed that she had been trying to find Hayley, but had no luck in discovering her location. It was then that she had noticed the shimmering immortal and felt overwhelmed by her very presence there. The woman had tears in her eyes and nearly collapsed upon the concrete floor.

“It’s you. I know you. Even if I were blind, I would know you - the goddess from beyond the stars and the spirit of the forest. I saw you once, long ago, but I thought you were just a dream,” Freya rambled to the ethereal beauty, then breathed a sigh of relief, before collecting herself to more casually say, “Nik, told me that you’re here to stop the Hollow.”

“She’s also here to help find and save Hayley,” Klaus piped up. “That takes priority, Sister.”

“Actually, eradicating the Hollow is first on the agenda,” Eternity corrected him. “I do not wish to waste my energy continuing to keep that evil from tearing this city apart. Where are your other siblings, Nik?”

“We’re here,” called another female.

Suddenly, two more people came forth, coming down from the upper levels of the house. One was another blonde woman and the other was a tall brunette man. These people must have been Rebekah and Kol.

Again, Elijah felt that sensation of familiarity when faced with these other strangers, whom were supposedly his relatives, but couldn’t remember them.

“Elijah,” Rebekah greeted him happily, surprised to see him.

It was awkward to not remember one’s own siblings, but that was the reality he faced. He smiled politely at the blonde vampire, however it certainly wasn’t with the familiarity he was supposed to have.

“Gather around Mikaelson siblings possessed by the Hollow,” Eternity announced to them all. “I will extract the demon that plagues you and this world, banishing it forever, so that once more your family can be whole.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, love,” Kol asked her, as each of them, including Elijah drew near her. “Not even the most powerful of witches, not even the Ancestors, could stop the Hollow.”

The ethereal beauty laughed lightly and then smirked at the tall man, “But I am not of this world. I am mightier than your mortal magic and mortal spirits of the afterworld, my dear Kol. I am strong enough to do what they could not. Now, come. It is time...to show you my wonders.”

Tentatively, the amnesiac vampire drew even closer and the other three did as well. They all came to stand on every side of her. Elijah stood in front of her, Niklaus in back of her, Kol to the left and Rebekah to the right. Each of them watched with curiosity and a bit of uncertainty as Eternity thrusted her hands outward on ether side of her.

It was immediate when Elijah and the other three were forced to bend back with their arms straight out. A terrible pain filled the amnesiac vampire. It was an agonizing burning and an excruciating pulling feeling that left him unable to do anything. He couldn’t breathe or think. He only knew pain.

However, it only last a second, before it was over and there was only a big blue light hanging over all their heads. Elijah only saw it for a moment, the pure form of the Hollow, before it suddenly and abruptly vanished as if it had never been there at all.

The whole ordeal was rather anticlimactic in it’s quickness. The amnesiac vampire hadn’t known what to expect, but had thought there would have been more to the experience of the Hollow’s removal and it’s subsequent destruction. Yet, he found he was simply thankful that he no longer felt that horrible tugging or heard those bothersome whispers - and he never would again.

“Well, now that that’s been dealt with, can we please find and rescue my wife?” Klaus said to Eternity, as he regained his breath from having his piece of the Hollow ripped from him. “Hayley needs us.”

The immortal lady nodded, “Aye. Let’s go. I already have a fix on her.”

Elijah watched as the woman he loved more than anything move to leave him there with these familiar strangers. “Hey,” he pulled her back around, before she could get far. “I’ll go with you. Maybe I can help.”

Eternity smiled sweetly and nodded.

With that, the trio was off to rescue Klaus’s wife.

It didn’t take long before they were just outside of New Orleans at an old, abandoned house called Shiloh Place. It was Eternity that had guided them there and quietly, they exited the hybrid’s Land Rover, proceeding forward with the cautious stealth of predators.

As they approached the house, Elijah could hear conversations being carried out inside. A young boy and an older woman were arguing over killing Hayley. The boy didn’t want to hurt anybody, but this woman insisted that it needed to be done. They needed to move quickly or else their efforts would be meaningless.

Klaus lead the way, kicking down the front door effortlessly and angrily shouting, “Greta!”

The younger Mikaelson charged inside with Elijah and Eternity following behind closely. They were just in time to see the hybrid attack and tear apart the older woman that had been heard arguing with a boy, of whom stood back with a look of terror upon his face. He thought he was going to die as well, the amnesiac vampire thought.

Then their eyes locked and he couldn’t bring himself to punish one so young, though it was obvious he had been involved with the kidnapping. Instead, he quietly urged the boy to leave. He didn’t have to be told twice. He left the house immediately and didn’t look back.

Nearby was a familiar young woman, covered in dirt and dried blood, as she sat in the corner, appearing exhausted. The older Mikaelson turned his attention toward her, watching as his wife went to her, checking to make sure that she was alright. He went over as well, ready to help get Klaus’s wife out of harms way.

“Who are you?” Hayley asked Eternity.

“Someone who will reverse what has been done to you,” the ethereal beauty replied quickly. “They bound your werewolf side to kill you, didn’t they?”

The young woman nodded, “Yeah. How did you -?”

The powerful immortal laid her fingertips on Hayley’s forehead, which glowed bright blue and hummed for a brief moment. “There. Your hybrid status had been restored, my dear. Now, we should get out of here.”

“Yes, let’s,” Klaus agreed as he came over with a soft smile as he looked down at his restored wife. “This place is disgusting. No place for my lady.”

Hayley got to her feet quickly with a loving grin of her own as she ran into her husband’s arms, embracing him tightly. “Thank you for the timely rescue,” she murmured, before she kissed his lips.

Elijah watched the touching scene as it unfolded, feeling the loving effects of it urge him to wrap his arm around Eternity, pulling her into his side and resting his head against hers. She put her hand on his chest and kissed his cheek quickly, just as the pair of hybrids pulled apart.

“Hey, I noticed that the world isn’t on fire with the two of you together,” Hayley said, gesturing between the two Originals. “What’s up with that?”

“Well, you have my big brother’s wife to thank for that,” Klaus told her, nodding at Eternity.

The female hybrid blinked rabidly at the other couple. “Wife? You got married in amnesia land, Elijah? Sounds like you’ve lived a happy life,” she spoke to him, as if his amnesiac state was in the past.

“I’m still in amnesia land actually,” he replied with a polite smile. “I have no idea who you are, only that you are apparently part of a family I can’t remember either.”

“I see,” Hayley said awkwardly.

Her husband piped up then with gratitude on his tongue, “Elijah’s wife defeated the Hollow, freeing my siblings and I, as well as the world, of it’s wickedness. She even helped to locate you, darling. We owe her a great debt.”

Elijah took his wife’s hand in his, holding on tightly, as they looked at each other with pride.

“Well, thank you...er...,” the female hybrid trailed off.

“I’m Eternity,” the shimmering woman introduced herself, “and you’re welcome.”

With the conversation coming to a close, the quartet made their way out.

As they did, Klaus mentioned how Greta’s death wasn’t the end of their troubles - that there were others that would declare it war and come for them all. It worried Hayley and even Elijah, though he didn’t remember these people.

Eternity, on the other hand, remained neutral. “I’m sure you can handle things, Nik. You are the big bad hybrid. These enemies are nothing you cannot handle.”

“Wait. You are incredibly powerful and yet, you’re not going to help?” Hayley asked her with a deep, confused frown, as she pulled everyone to a stop in the overgrown front yard.

The ethereal beauty looked at Elijah with a soft smile and shrugged slightly as she turned back to the other female, “I made a promise to my husband. What I do from here is completely up to him.”

The brunette’s frown only deepened, “What does that mean?”

“It means that if my brother so chooses, they will go back to their quiet little life in the French countryside,” Klaus answered. “He came with his wife, so that she could rid the world of the a Hollow and safe you from your death. Now that’s complete, Elijah gets to choose his path: to go and live as an amnesiac for the rest of his days or to remain here and return to his old existence.”

All eyes fell upon the older Original, who shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. He supposed he did have a rather large decision to make. He simply didn’t know which path to take. On one hand, he had enjoyed his life in the countryside, happily ever after with a wife he loved so completely he couldn’t imagine life without her. However, on the other hand, Elijah was also very drawn to these familiar strangers, these people he had once cared for so deeply.

“Perhaps we will stay for a night or two, until my husband makes his choice,” Eternity suggested, seeing how torn he was over this most important decision that would define the rest of his immortal life. “Come. Let us return to the Mikaelson Compound.”

From there, the four of them did as Eternity had said and returned to the place that had once been Elijah’s home. Being in that place was like being trapped in a hazy dream, where things were familiar, but one couldn’t recall why. He found himself surrounded by ghosts of memories he couldn’t quite reach, that were on just the edge of his mind and wouldn’t come into focus.

It was maddening as it was intriguing. He wanted to remember, but that the same time, he didn’t.

Then the Original found himself surrounded by a loving family, who celebrated the safe return of one of their own, as well as welcomed a new member in his wife. Seeing them all together, happy and full of love for each other, made his decision for him.

Within a mere few hours of being back in New Orleans, Elijah pulled Eternity off to the side, during the celebration, and told her, “Sweetheart, I want you to give me back my memories.”

“Are you sure?” She immediately responded, knowing how much he had wanted to remain in France before. “Is this what you truly want?”

Without hesitation, he nodded, “Yes, I’m sure. I want this. I want to know.”

To Be Continued....

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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @inmylifeilovedthemall @dendrite-lover @missnmikealson @xanderling @esclisa @freshsuitcasewinnereagle @elizamonet @lalabluues

#elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies #original characters #elijah x eternity #elinity #romance #drama #alternate universe #the originals #the originals fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #klaus x hayley #klayley #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson

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