#but im not joining the fang club

[eka-paige]

I think I'm gonna cry, THEY GAVE HER TO ME BUT ITS EXCLUSIVE??? I NEED OPERETTA SO BAD MATTEL IM BEGGING YOU PLEASE

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Dear MagISoWo,

I'm a werebear who lives with my (found family) sister and brother. My sister is a vampire and my brother is a werewolf. Lately I've been feeling a bit lonely, as they are often very busy and it's been difficult to make time to spend with eachother like we planned before moving in together. I've considered going out in search of new friends, but I'm not entirely sure where to start, as along with the fact of --to put it bluntly-- me being socially inept, I was hoping to find other were-bears to talk with considering neither of my parents were and I don't think I've known any others besides myself. Im sure there are support groups that could be provided, however I think that method may feel a bit unnatural when forming connections, though if you feel these groups are the best route to take, any resources would be gladly appreciated.

Thank you,

-Misha

Dear Misha,

Thank you for reaching out, we're glad to hear from you! You definitely don't have to join a support group to meet new people, there are many more casual social events in our community too. We do not know of any that are geared towards werebears specifically, but the shifter community is very vibrant!

Many bars and clubs host a Supernatural Saturday, so that might be a good start if that's your scene. But there are also walks, picknicks, book clubs, and all kinds of other events organised by members of the community specifically to meet like-minded people. We keep a calendar on our website of social events specifically suited for members of particular groups.

There is also Fangs, Fur and Feathers, a support group turned social club with members of all kinds. A lot of their members are shapeshifters and even if their activities aren't your style, they can certainly help you find gathering spaces that are!

Best of luck, and always feel free to drop by one of our community centers,

~ the MagISoWo Team

[justsomeectoplasm]

Me every time you mention your characters:

This applies to worldbuilding too

Im late in answering this but THANK YOU! I was always kind of scared of sharing my original oc's since I keep thinking no one would be interested in them.

But I'd like to take some time to actually explain one set of them instead of just throwing vague hints at them. I did draw some of them on this blog but if people like them enough I'll start actually drawing them.

So uh, here take this!:

This world has a bit of a animals (not furries) x criminal underground x martial arts idea. In this world, hybrid animals of all types roam the world. But our characters live in a city called "Zoia", a lawless city full of hybrids that live tough lifes of crime and chaos. In this city, 4 bosses called the "Wilders" rule parts of the city through thier meticulous scheming and martial art prowess.

Monkey:

An aspiring young con-man of 30 years old. He's charismatic, but also kind of a loser that doesn't know when to seperate his outrageous goals from reality, making it his job of doing petty thefts and reselling what he "borrowed" at the kiosks. His arrogance often leads him to get his ass kicked, and he gets in trouble with smaller gangs because of his thefts on their turfs. Still, he likes to think he has a shot at making it big in this city. His current goal? Becoming the next big Wilder.

Snake:

Local 27 year old organ trafficker hiding as a dentist. She works for a small gang because her shitty brother got both of them in debt. She's a nervous and shy girl who tries to cover up her snake-like appearance to look passive and insignificant just so that nobody can disturb her. But underneath all that lies a tempermental snake, and she's one day away from showing her fangs. Cunning and harsh, Snake will do anything to get a one up in this harsh world, even if it means betrayal. She's catching the attention of Tiger, who was coincidentally looking for a doctor. Currently has beef with Mongoose because he keeps fucking around with her orders.

Bunny:

25 year old guy that became a Wilder by pure fucking rage. Because of his hybrid type, he's been seen as weak and small his whole life. After some people tried to mug him, he snapoed and sent them to the hospital. What followed was the rumour of a bunny hybrid that's been going on a rampage and fighting big shots. So, bunny climbed to the top of the criminal food chain by fighting. Other then that he's a quiet and introverted guy that kind of has a weird way of thinking. But since he's so sure of himself, many started following him. He earned the title of the new Wilder and he's making bank by the night clubs he opened up that's actually a back drop for meetings between the dangerous groups of the city.

Lion:

The current leader of the west side and the most powerful fighter next to Bull. A 34 year old Wilder that was recently given the title after his mom stepped down. Stoic and prideful on the outside, but has a strong sense of tradition and justice. He has a close group of friends that are loyal to a fault, and his pride in his work often attracts the younger generation to join. Don't be mistaken though, his work is built on generations of fear and blood, and he's not willing to give it all up. Currently wants to help Mongoose find his sister, as she was a close friend of his mother and a role model.

Shark:

Nonbinary 31 year old that's both smart and eccentric. Neither a Wilder nor weaker then one, they currently run a small organ trafficking business and loan company, but their main job is arms dealing. They travel across the world making deals with all kinds of people, but stop by Zoiac to say hello to her dearly beloved "workers". Charismatic and a bit of a flirt, they'll make you dance in the palm of their hand without you ever knowing it. Currently, they like to bother Snake by pushing her buttons. They really seem to enjoy testing her, but it looks like they have other plans for her?

Mongoose:

A 19 year old outsider looking for his missing sister. He's naive about the ways of the city and often gets himself in trouble by sticking his nose into businesses he shouldn't. But he's pretty smart and knows how to persuade people into helping him. He's very energetic, but also so serious that if you tease him he'll actually get mad at you. Currently, he lives with Monkey as his roommate. They get along suprisingly well, since they both love old kung fu movies. He also believes that Snake has something to do with his sister's dissappearance and they're this 👌close to getting into an all out brawl with each other that'll probably end in bloodshed.

Tiger:

A 35 year old Wilder woman that's hard working and cunning. She's the first of her family that managed to rise their debt induced name into fame and luxury. She's the wealthiest Wilder of the city, and has her claws into multiple famous casinos and clubs. Cold and brutal, she's stubborn into getting whatever she wants in this city, and her plan to have full control of this city is only stopped by some pest she wants to swat away. But she's all to patient to wait for them to wander into her gaze so she could dig her teeth into them. Snake and Mongoose has caught her attention as of recent, and she's debating on whether she wants these two animals to work as bodyguard and an informant for her by 'persuading' them into a deal that's very beneficial for both of them.

Wolf:

8 year old orphaned little girl that's in the middle of a very dangerous world. She has a mutation on her eyes that's causing her to see the future. Because of this, she's sought out by the Wilders and she's constantly running away from them, only to find herself deeper into the city. She's quiet and very meticulous with her plans, untrusting of those who reach their hand out to her. She also may have some form of autism (one od her special interests is dragons). She currently lives with Bull, and she doesn't know whether he pretends to act as her dad for the sake of it or he wants to use her for her foresight. Either way, she doesn't trust him and she's planning on getting out of his grip.

Bull:

40 year old Wilder that's been playing this city's game since he was 20 years old. A family guy that likes people who are "interesting", and likes to tip things slightly on edge to relieve him of his boredom (this bastard). He's friendly and has that leadership vibe that just makes you want to have one drink with him at least. He just went through a divorce and is currently wanting to get along with his 19 year old daughter that seems to have no interest in inheriting the family and instead wants to pursue her love for art. Currently looking after Wolf who he picked up after, uh, "fired" the last Wilder. He slowly kind of sees her as his adoptive daughter (if only she doesn't run away every 5 damn seconds. He swears he doesn't care about her ability to see the future and wants to spoil her, but she's determined to tear each gift up and throw it back into his face.)

[cerealmonster15]

no wait talk 2 me abt rook&vil they're so silly (unless ur legitimately busy but I will listen if u ever want to talk abt sillies lol)

god i had to restrain myself from literally screenshotting every single convo vil and rook have ever had bc theres Simply Too Much, and even trying to contain myself i still went over the limit LOL god ok anyway love is real and i have to put in a readmore bc i love posting screenshots and talking FOREVER!!!!!

one of my earlier memories of them was back when i first got into twst in 2020 and reading random card stories. i remember the jade leech dorm story and i just got his card recently so i got to relive married couple vil and rook experiencing Jade Leech Behavior

"you're making me jealous~ is he as good as meeee~" and vils like well kinda LOL but also in the rook lab coat story

aka the one where rooks openly thirsting after leona and teases vil about being jealous about it. like hello. ?? ?!?!!?!?!?!

also TWO instances of vil casually dropping that leonas attractive

a pretty face. a good looking layabout. vil no one is making you say these things.

anyway i just love how openly loving rook is in general, but especially with vil 😭

^both from the jade dorm story.... vil shows up and hes like Oh My God Life Is Beautiful. ok well hes like that about everything but he does it More when vils around :')

god this whole second half of rooks lab story is soooooooo hshdhfhehheskefkjjdfjfgfdg yknow????? like the whole story is half rook being So Very Weird About Leona fkjefskljdf "if those sharp fangs of his pierced my windpipe, why, i'd be done for in an instant. the very notion makes my heart quiver" ROOK BE NORMAL CHALLENGE just kidding i love that hes a freak it's so fun. he says something kinda similar about vil??? i cant remember which instance it was - i wanna say maybe when vil got kidnapped in Halloween 2 or book 6 or something? where he said something like "oh no, i know vil doesnt need my protection. if i dared imply such a thing he'd kick me in the head with his six inch heels lol 🤗" like HELLO????

speaking of halloween 2, omg. i forgot to take screenshots but that whole bit makes me insane. he calls vil "my etolle/ my star" and is agonizing over his disappearance......... hes so overjoyed to see him again and rushes to his side when theyre reunited,, and omfg i also forgot the part in masquerade where hes getting ready to leave and hes like "here is a flower, im so sorry im leaving you alone vil, ill be back to you before this flower blooms ♥" like literally why was he so romantic about it. vils like dude you will be gone Three Days fjklsejklfjkls i cant get over it. it's so FUNNY and so,,, hfhdhhhghf. the way he and vil act like parents of pomefiore is so cute too. like when theyre leaving rooks like "dont worry vil ill be with epel to make sure things are going okay!!" and vils like "hmm. yea idk im still worried actually" bc he loves rook but he also knows rook better than anyone LOL

anyway i got distracted, back to the rook lab coat story

this part is so good. rook is going on and on about leona and vils like "ok so just join spelldrive club and bother him there" and rooks immediately like "no. im in science club so i can help you with special effects for your film work to support you " HE LITERALLY SAYS SUPPORT WITH HIS LOVE WAHHHH god they make me go bonkers actually. a lot of what rook does is out of love and support for vil and his pursuit of beauty wahhhh

he likes being close to vil

he knows vils exact measurements, he even says in vils lab story that the only person that looks at vil longer than vil is him lol

he was so enthusiastic about vil and his work that hed run up to him and just talk forever and ever until vil finally spoke back to him and they were just INSEPARABLE after. i think so often about that bit where they say they talked so much they GOT SICK IN THE SNOW!!!! HELLO HI CAN ANYONE HEAR ME- theyre so full of matched passion i love them so much no one understands them like they understand each other AUGHHHH

anyway back to rook mentioning he wants to be up close to vil and his pursuit of beauty,,, i ALSO cant stop thinking about how thats literally one of the reasons he TRANSFERRED DORMS TO POMEFIORE

it means everything to him to be at vils side as long as possible and the fact that he cant when theyre away on their internships in fourth year is devastating WAHHHH 😭😭😭

but also. beanfest.

LIKE. HSDFHDSLJ every time they interact in this entire event is So Charged. hey rook your body is bulked up, i know this because I Was Looking. vil i am so excited to brawl with you one on one ive been anticipating it for a month. back and forth banter with each other and then just

whatever this is. and epel standing there like 🧍‍♂️ I Will Avoid Them Actually. jfksdlfjdkslfjkj

hes So Fucking Excited when it's time to fight vil,,, he even brought evil face trey LOL

"btw you look hot-" thats nice rook

THEY ARE FLIRTING. and then rook literally Sent Trey Away because he was so excited for his 1v1 with his beloved husband skdjfdskl and trey was like "yea i dont wanna be involved Bye 🚶‍♂️" fjlkdsfj no one wants to get tangled up in their Strange Relationship

also this line vil says in the home screen

ive seen fanart about this too thats like "hmm. vil most of you is covered. you have no hard to reach parts. it's like, your hands and neck and face 🤨" and it's so tender, rook putting sunblock on vils hands.... but also WHY cant you do that YOURSELF, HMM?? 🤨🤨🤨

ok ok ok but then. book 5 finale. i remember some people were Rook Haters after that and i simply do not agree!! and apparently some people dont like book 5. cant relate!!!!!!! rook hunt dislikers do not interact book 5 is everything to me!!!!

i might have those out of order but sjdklfjelsjkfdjsklf DFHDLKSJFLDKF GODDDD I CANT TAKE ITTTT 😭 rook going on and on about how it doesnt matter what vil looks like but as long as hes confident like rook knows he is then he will always be beautiful!!! i didnt get screenshots of that part in book 6 where theyre flying back and vil Turned Old but i love how loving and supportive rook is while vils just having his breakdown 🥺

idk man i just really like their interaction about this whole think ;A; like yea vil practically fell over in BETRAYAL when he saw rook voted for their enemy LOL but then i like that hes like "please. i know you and i know you dont make biased decisions ever, you always tell what you truly believe in your heart," and and and god damn it tumblr wont let me post any more photos but vil SMILES and hands rook back his handkerchief to let him dry his own tears and it's just SWEET WAHHH listennnnNNNN. i think it's nice. vil couldve gone off and been super mad at rook but he wasn't 😭 like he wasnt happy lol, but he knows rook. he understands [as much as one can LOL] rook. and rook loves and supports vil with everything he has, but hes also true to his heart and i think thats something vil really values about rook and a big part of why he keeps him around. it can be a positive and a negative, sure- this isnt the only time rooks honest to a fault lol, but i love,, multifaceted characters with deep relationships....

point is i lay facedown on the floor and cry for hours when i think too hard about vil and rook bc theres just So Much Love..... i cant get really coherent points or analysis out i just love repeating parts that happen in the game and posting six million screenshots bc thats all thats happening in my brain constantly JKFLJDSKLDJS i love rookvil. one of the ships ever. theyre married your honor theyre MARRIED and also being in a toxic yaoi polycule with leona is very funny to me jfklejskljfe marriage + divorce love wins(?)

[xoteajays]

tbh im curious about niya! idk what questions to ask so like... what species is she, specifically? whos she roomies with?

ah niya, my darling! i’m only six episodes deep into wednesday so i’m still plotting but here’s some (oops a lot of) notes of what i have so far.

• her name is khioniya moorcroft, she goes by niya - or miss moorcroft to faculty - to everyone except wednesday who, for whatever reason, always calls her khioniya. also she’s gay. also also she jokes that she’s related to and named after khioniya g.useva.

• i’m putting vampires as having different variations but all under the same umbrella of ‘vampire’; there’s the classic, the lilitu, the alukah, etc; the ‘vampire folklore by region’ wiki page is a very interesting read btw. niya and her mother and aunt are specifically of the slavic variety. they’re capable of reproducing with other vampires (as a number of other variations are) but most notably can turn into butterflies!

• niya is a holly blue (Celastrina argiolus), her mother was a cranberry blue (Agriades optilete), and her aunty anzhela is a large copper (Lycaena dispar).

• i’m thinking of plonking her in ophelia hall, just because it was the only one that was named but also because ms thornhill is her favourite teacher. i’m not fully decided on what flower thornhill gives her, maybe a lily-of-the-nile or a bat orchid or a bee orchid. as for her roommate, also not sure, i like to think she gets paired up with a gorgon maybe. no mirrors that way! (might have to plot up a gorgon roomie now…) i considered yoko but that gets in the way of enid dorming up with her in later episodes.

• she’s hella close with her father (who is still unnamed, oops). very much a daddy’s girl and was also spoiled by him. her mother either died or disappeared when niya was young, so she only had her dad until they reconnected with her mother’s sister, her aunt anzhela who is the in-school nurse at nevermore academy.

• niya heads up the gardening club. she just really liked plants. and flowers especially (them butterfly instincts). she tells wednesday to join the beekeeping club because it’s only got one person and eugene could ‘be manipulated into secrecy by such a pretty girl’.

• wednesday doesn’t find out about niya’s butterfly ability until like ep3. but prior to that she can still be seen as a small blue butterfly in the background of scenes. most of the student body is unaware of her ability and she uses it to spy on them. after wednesday knows, butterfly!niya often sits on the band of her braid or her blazer collar.

• also since she was doing her spying on wednesday since she was new, she believes wednesday’s monster theory from the start since she saw rowan try to kill her in the woods and saw rowan get killed .... but she can’t say anything to anyone obviously because she’s trying to keep her butterfly secret under-wraps.

• niya has such zero interest in boys and will say as such on occassion. catch her telling wednesday and bianca to ‘stop moping over boys’ at the rave’n and come dance with the girls. she’s insanely jealous when wednesday fake-asks xavier to the dance and when she later shows up with tyler, even though niya helped thing get wednesday’s dress.

• speaking of thing, they’re partners-in-wednesday’s-crimes since - when niya’s a butterfly - they’re both small and mostly unseen and are capable of sneaking around without being caught.

• before wednesday, niya didn’t have any particularly close friends. she knows a lot of the students, but isn’t especially close to any of them. she had a brief lingering crush on bianca. her and enid aren’t overly close but are mutually tolerating each other because of wednesday.

• niya makes an excellent first impression on the addamses. morticia calls her fangs ‘absolutely darling’. niya and her father join them at the parents’ weekend lunch before gomez is arrested.

• she didn’t join the nightshade society because when she was butterfly-snooping on them it just seemed boring to her. virg cocktails and skinny dipping and private parties, all just boring teenage bleugh that niya didn’t care for.

• other than the gardening club, niya is a big fan of reading in the library. she’s named by ms thornhill as ‘one of the only students to come in (here) actually looking for books’ when wednesday goes looking for the nightshade society book.

• in short: she’s a lil princess-y daddy’s-girl butterfly vampire spy with a big crush on wednesday. also i would title her fic ‘(butter)fly on the wall’ obvi.

[sekhisadventures]

Dareley's Scars of War

Dareley has been a military man ever since the end of the Second Great War and his body reflects this. Scars here, there, and everywhere on him. However, the paladin is proud of each and every one of them. He says each one is proof that he was giving righteous pain to something that truly deserved it.

Broken Nose

Dareley’s nose is a bit off center, bent slightly as if it was broken but not properly set.

“Aye, everyone notices me honker first. Got this one on th’ slopes o’ Blackrock Mountain back in th’ day right after I first joined th’ order mattero’fact. I was part o’ th’ force tryin ta take th’ mountain from ol’ Doomhammer in th’ closin’ days o’ th’ Second War.”

“Fulla piss ‘n vinegar I was back then! Like I said, I’d just become a paladin ‘n I was a wee bit fulla meself, figured if th’ Light had me back then nothin’ could happen ta me, right? HAH, NOT BLOODY LIKELY! Makes fer a lovely sermon ‘n sing-song in th’ Churches, but in a melee th’ Light can certainly help… but it cannae make ye immortal, at least not in th’ literal sense.”

“Anyhoo, this big stompy Ogre comes round th’ bend right as I’m gettin’ ‘bout halfway up th’ mountain, takes one look at me, ‘n smashes me full in th’ face with his club! If I weren’t wearin’ me helmet he’d  have crushed my bloody skull! Happily I got outta that with a broken nose ‘n after th’ stars went away ‘n a quick prayer ta th’ Light ta staunch the bleedin ‘n dull th’ pain I took me hammer ‘n took out one o’ his knees! Big galloot went over like a cut tree ‘n I just had ta swing fer th’ head after that! Like a ripe bloody pumpkin that was! HAH!”

Fang Marks

A set of large bite marks on his right arm, they look like they came from a human jaw line… but are too big for a normal human jaw.

“Oof… those… They actually did come from a human… rather… he used ta be one. Ghoul, y’see. It was one o’ th’ first ones I ever ran inta before we knew what kinda threat th’ Scourge really was. Right after we left Arthas at Stratholme ‘n we were ridin’ back ta Lordaeron ta report to his pappy… by th’ Light sometimes I wonder what woulda happened if we’d stayed that day ‘n at least tried ta stop ‘im…”

“Anyway… we were evacuatin’ as many people as we could along th’ way, figured if Stratholme was infected ‘n possibly lost then it may be a good idea ta get as many o’ the non-infected away as we could, ‘n while we were passin’ by Andorhol we stopped ta guide this miller ‘n his family out… Th’ wife ‘n kids went with th’ knights but their pappy was missin’, so I went lookin’. Found him in th’ barn, hunched over ‘n clutchin’ at his belly. In hindsight, that was a bad sign, but fer all I knew he just had a bad breakfast… right up until his jaw just… stretched… ‘n his teeth… brrr… Light protect me that still gives me nightmares.”

“Worst part was after I got him down ‘n dragged th’ body outta th’ barn ta warn th’ others was when th’ rest o’ his family turned. Th’ wife ‘n Light help me both th’ wee ones… suddenly all snarlin’ like rabid worgs ‘n leapin’ at us with murder in their eyes as they changed just like he had. Aye… we got outta it, ye cannae bite through plate mail even with fangs like that… but it was a bad day.”

“Ta top it all off, their pappy DID bite me on one o' me unarmored bits! Back then we knew th’ Plague could spread from th’ grain, but we dinnae know if that was th’ ONLY way! Soon as we made camp they clapped me in irons ‘n tied me ta a tree until they were sure I wouldn’t turn like they did! I… was a trifle miffed at th’ time but lookin’ back I cannae say I blame ‘em.”

Burned Shoulder

His left shoulder is badly burnt and covered in shiny scarred skin. He has no hair on that part of his body at all.

“Felfire! This 'un was right after th' Dark Portal reopened th' first time 'n we were all headin' ta Outland fer th' first time ta see what became o' Draenor. We came out in Hellfire Penninsula an' well... aye, it definitely had th' right name! Demons, bloody snarlin' demons fulla fel 'n malice as far as ye could see..."

“Welp, I was still a bit of a cheeky bastard back then. I thought ta meself ‘Dareley, they’re a whole mob o’ snarlin’ nasties and yer a paladin. What’re ye waitin’ fer lad?!’ I picked up me hammer, yelled ‘fer th’ Holy Light,’ ‘n off I went!”

“I did pretty good fer a bit, took down a few succubi by goin’ fer their leg ‘n smushed a felhunter or two like th’ overgrown ticks they be… but then a felguard smacked me good round th’ shoulder ‘n knocked me bloody pauldron off! I turned back around, ready ta show ‘im what fer… ‘n I see this imp sittin’ on the big lug’s shoulder…”

“Cheeky little snot just grinned at me, wiggled his fingers, ‘n FWOOSH! Me bleedin’ arm is lit up like a Winter’s Veil tree! By King Magni’s shiny arse it HURT! Well, cheeky or not I knew when it was time ta go… I smacked th’ felguard in th’ ankle ta cripple him, then turned ‘n ran fer th’ outpost as fast as me legs’d carry me. Damn near blacked out from th’ pain when I got back, but they had one o’ them Draenei shaman on duty ‘n she patched me up. Still, felfire is felfire… won’t ever heal all th’ way.”

Scorched Earlobe

His earlobe is scorched, though on the opposite side from where the felfire burned him.

“… this ain’t from a battle lad. See… one of our… occasional allies is a goblin named Grimo Blamstick ‘n he likes ta show off his inventions when we gotta have a meetin’. One o’ them was some sorta fel energy alarm that ‘e was showin’ off durin’ the Tomb of Sargeras situation.”

“Some weird lil’ doohickey that would light up ‘n flash if too much fel was around… personally I think any fel is too much fel, but… well, I could see it bein’ useful fer less magically inclined allies. He turns it on ‘n it lights up a bit, not surprisin’ as we were in Dalaran at th’ time ‘n we were in spittin’ distance ‘o the Broken Shore… that’s when Dissonantia ‘n Merihim walk in at th’ same time arguin’ with each other…”

“Somethin’ about him eatin’ her imps and her pissin’ him off I dunnae, I just wait for ‘em ta cool down. Aye I be a paladin, but ya dunnae kick a hornets nest ta calm down th’ hornets… that ‘n Khadgar woulda stepped in if it got too dangerous. Well… it sorta did…”

“He got all angry ‘n turned inta that big beefy demon form o’ his, she got all snarly ‘n tore open a portal to th’ nether ‘n started callin’ her boys… ‘n Grimo’s doohickey starts flashin’ bright red ‘n makin’ this awful din ‘n… well… that’s when I notice th’ goblin is runnin’ fer th’ exit on th’ other side o’ the Ledgerdeman Lounge… shoulda taken that as a clue.”

“Bloody piece of goblin crap exploded ‘n set my beard aflame! If nothin’ else it stopped Merihim ‘n Dissonantia fightin’, but th’ little shites just started laughin’ as I was tryin’ ta put it out! Happily Shalandrae was in th’ room as well ‘n managed ta grab th’ moppin’ up bucket. Bit whiffy, but I wasn’t on fire nae more. Never trust a bloody goblin I tell ya…”

[lillybean730]

tell us more about the duality of kiwei. the public needs to know.

ok forewarning i may start rambling in this bc i have put a lot of thought into this guy and 90% isn't written down anywhere

ok came back to add a cut im so sorry for the unfiltered illness below im not going to edit it this is pure stream of consciousness

right so! for starters kiwei is for the most part very chill. a nice person, kind to children, helps old ladies cross the street etc etc. they also have so much goddamn grief and rage boiling inside begging for an outlet before they snap. (yes i do like the drk quest line how can you tell?)

they weren't always like that though, after the banquet and *especially* after haurchefaunt and ysayles deaths is really when this started building. see kiwei really gets stuck on the anger part of the stages of grief, and really doesn't start letting go until after they get compared to zenos. kiwei was really gunning to kill him after the massacre at the reach and hearing abt all the devastation he caused, and when zenos said "you want to rip my throat out huh buddy?" he was right. and that terrified and disgusted them. and getting called his friend? even worse

while all this turmoil was boiling within though, they really kept a vice grip on what did make them happy, namely their friends. alphinaud by that point was basically their little brother and alisaie was quickly joining the "honorary little sibling club", so they really tried to keep the mask from slipping to prevent those two from worrying. at this point they weren't all that close to the other scions actually, especially compared to how they become one big family by the end. anyway they also continued to be quite kind to strangers in an attempt to feel normal again, to try and find the joy of helping they got at the beginning of their travels. mixed results but hey they tried.

by shadowbringers the rage has died down a bit and mostly they're just tired. they feel like a living weapon and it doesn't help that many treat them like one too. when trying to sneak off to the tempest alone they genuinely didn't expect the scions to come with, given the inherent risk of standing next to a ticking time bomb. the events in the tempest are a huge turning point for kiweis emotional state. the kindness becomes less forced, friendships become deeper, and they (god forbid) occasionally express emotions to others outside of hitting things.

by endwalker theyre a lot calmer but that fear of doing harm just by the nature of being the warrior of light and being an impulsive person is really cranked up after the body snatching incident. and boy were they glad to finally kill zenos, he threatened their new family (and new happiness) for the last time.

basically, having this sort of impulse to hit people when they piss em off, the strength to kill gods, a deep desire to not hurt anyone, and the blood of hundreds on their hands makes for a contradictory sort of character

wow that became a stupid long discussion of their emotions let's talk design. kiwei is made of sharp lines and round curves. most of the spiky bits are "added" features let's say? sharp claws, scruffy hair, their facial tattoos, whatever weapon they have, and their little fang earrings. more basic features are round. their nose and face are round, and they prefer to wear soft fabrics instead of armor. there's a few outliers, scars in general to me are neither round nor sharp but that's up to personal views in design so i figured id mention it, and their little fangs bc kibby kat

even then there are softer sides to most spiky bits, their hair has braids (a tradition in their old family and honestly i will talk more abt that in a sec) and the claws also actually hold family meaning ok quick tangent

basically: the guy got disowned for "betraying the family by becoming an adventurer instead of the next matriarch". despite that, they still uphold a lot of family traditions. the braids are something their siblings did growing up, the bone carved jewelry is a family tradition (which im not talking abt here bc this is long enough im so sorry), and the sharp claws.

now: the timeline of claws works like this

ages 1-17ish: normal nails

(for women) ~17-before firstborn: allowed to grow out claws as a sign of being able to fight for oneself

after firstborn: cut those claws bc you might scratch ur baby

men do whatever you aren't there grow em out cut em who give a shit

so in the culture being an adult is signified by claws, but it's also a sign of immaturity. being an adult with nails means a position of authority and care over your family. it's sort of accepted that the mother's dont need to rely on claws to protect their kids.

how this applies to kiwei is up until shb kiwei had claws, but after some incidents where reaching out to touch someone (esp on the face) caused them to flinch they used their background in arcanima to help. they have painted sigils on their nails that project the image of claws without them actually being physical. by adjusting the flow of aether they can either become corporeal or disappear entirely. this occupies a weird space of maturity and immaturity, violence and comfort

a duality in other words

tldr: the cat is a little beast who is trying so hard to be kind despite the world seeming to be trying to make them a violent monster. kindness in the face of your own anger

honestly that tldr is all you need and im not sure i articulated this right

[xkotaro16w]

HEYAAA! I just found out your blog recently and I already love your writing! 🥰 So u-uhh 👉👈 may a request relationship headcanons about our lazy boy Leona and a dog beastman!S/O(reader) from Savanaclaw? His S/O is very athletic and honest (the doggy energy ig😂), I would like to see how he would deal with it. Can be only fluff or NSFW or both, it is up to you hehe. GN reader if it is okay 🥺.

— 🦆

—𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚊 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝙳𝚘𝚐 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚗!𝙶𝙽!𝚂/𝙾—

Summary: Headcanon(s) where Leona dating a dog beastman!GN!S/O from Savannaclaw, both in SFW & N/SFW sides. S/O has a dog energy (athletic, honest, and loyal). How Leona deals with his S/O?

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x Dog Beastman!GN!S/O.

CW: SFW & N/SFW, fluff, breeding, biting, marking, heat cycle (mentioned), grammatical error, OOC.

A/N: DUCK ASELFIHASFJNAFOIN ( •ω•ฅ) WELCOME 2 MY BLOG (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡ Im still new BUT HEY THXX ✺◟(＾∇＾)◞✺ A DOGGO BEASTMEN, THE URGE 2 PET S/O’S EARS EAIOFJSALKEFNAFIJALFKN .｡*ﾟ .*.｡(❁´◡`❁)｡.｡: *

SFW

Oh? Another dog beastman on his dorm? That’s good! Show your fangs, S/O! Athletic as well? JOIN MAGIFT NOW. 

Leona loves his S/O, look at you! Fluffy, strong, athletic, loyal, honest, etc. He’s proud of you. Your honesty, your loyalty, and your affection to him are something he loves and wants to treasure. Having someone like you who’s honest, loyal, and affectionate, especially to him, is such a bless. Finally, someone who can gives him something he wants.

You love meat? UNDERSTANDABLE. Very understandable. Leona himself loves meat, so he understands you. If you two go out to take a bite, it’ll be meat culinary ONLY. If you still eat vegetables? No. Don’t push him to eat his enemies. He’ll frowns and growls at you. Stop it, S/O. BAD S/O!

Dog beastmen are clever and strong! If you love to challenge him in those aspects, he’ll accept it. Oho, puppy, the lion won’t lose to you.

You’re athletic, which is very good for Magift! If you join Magift, he will compete with you. Let’s see who’s better, you or him? If you join the other sports club, he’s fine. But he’ll invite you to join the Magift practice and Magift inter-dorm tournament. He can use your power and he use his brain, a great combination, right?

One thing he’s still annoyed about you, YOUR ENERGY. You’re VERY energetic. Please let him takes his nap. He can’t relate to your energy. How can you even still have a lot of energy after PE class? If you disturb his nap, he’ll just shove you and growl. No, S/O, no.

Denies that he loves scratch your ears and pat your head. Scratch his ears back! Both of you are very affectionate when it comes to physical touch. 

Teases you by calling you PUPPY. If you’re feisty, call him KITTEN. DO IT. Kitten and puppy, what a cute relationship.

If you’re a tsundere beastman, he cornered you by his flirty side and teasing remarks. Your flustered face is a moodbooster to him.

Leona understands your ears and tail languages! Smirks immediately at how happy your tail wiggles. Aww, the little puppy is happy!

Cuddling with you is his mood 24/7. Both affectionate beastmen cuddling to each other. This is VERY cute!

“Huh, you do look like a lost puppy. How cute~ Do you need a lion to guide you back to your house?”

NSFW

Do you know that dog heat cycle lasts around 18 days? DO YOU KNOW? And lion heat cycle lasts around 4-7 days? You guys have a lot of energy to make love, outside the heat cycle as well.

A lot of biting and marking. You bite him, he bites you back. You mark him, he marks you back. A lot of students stare at both of your neck. Ok, they did something erotic last night, huh. 

If you want to be aggressive on him, oho, puppy, he WON’T let you top him. A fight on the bed who’s more dominant. Or do you want to see Leona’s power bottom energy? 

If you’re a cute dog beastman who’s a submissive and whimper a lot underneath him, Leona will tease you and show the aura of dominance. Grips your hips very hard. You really are a puppy! Let the wild beastman do his work for his cute puppy.

If he’s on his lazy mode but you want to mate, cowgirl position is the best. You do all of the job, what about him? Nah, he just helps you a little bit and sits back. Enjoys the view of you bouncing on his manhood.

When you making love with him (especially in heat cycle), oh, damn. Do you want to imagine it? Both pheromones are incisive in the bedroom. Both juices stain the sheet. With your consent, his cum can full your hole and make it warm. 

Leona loves to hear your whimper. Come on, your voice is cute, puppy. Let the lion hears your whimper clearly. Bites your ear and whispers dirty things about you.

He often bites you very hard until it bleeds. Can’t help it. You look very cute, blame yourself, puppy.

“C’mon... Lemme hear your whimper, puppy... Ya sound so cute, I love it...”

I DO NOT OWN TWISTED WONDERLAND & DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS.

[fatalfangirl]

Thank you for the tags this morning @takitalks, @moodandmist, and @urban-sith (and to all the folks who tagged me on Wednesday!)

I'm finally getting some words on the page for Ch 10 of Bound and Determined. Here are six sentences from that:

SIMON

A vampire I didn’t hear walk-in joins us at the bar. He looks like Fight Club era Brad Pitt, but clean-shaven and with darker hair. His gaze catches mine and he smiles with his fangs. “So the rumors are true. Simon Snow. What a pathetic fall from grace this is.”

This fic is by far the most creatively challenging thing I've personally written, and one of the few plot elements I planned from the beginning is finally going to be revealed in ch 10. I'm worried people are going to feel like it came out of nowhere... but it's my self-indulgent little slice of fandom so I just need to shrug emoji and be cool with it. (But I'm still nervous.)

Tagging @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @sillyunicorn, @captain-aralias, @shemakesmeforget, @papercut271, @cutestkilla, @im-gettingby, @aristocratic-otter, @facewithoutheart, @palimpsessed, @martsonmars, @mostlymaudlin, @creepyspice, @johnwgrey, @otherworldsivelivedin, @whatevertheweather

[megan-is-mia]

so uh im relly into the octavinelle and geartslaybul dorm x darling fics you've done, can we plllllz have a diasomnia one? with the same prompt as the others?

(Well why the fuck not? At this rate I might end up making this into a mini series and do the rest of the dorms without them being requested) 23. “Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves.” (Yandere! Diasomnia Dorm x Fem! S/o) Ever since she was little, (Y/n) knew there was something wrong with her. She didn’t know exactly what that wrong was until her red thread first manifested. Supposedly at the other end of the red thread around her little finger would be her soulmate. Only there was something very off about her thread, for in actually it was not a thread but in fact four threads woven together like a fine silken rope. Such an occurrence was unprecedented and she was advised to keep it all hush-hush. (Y/n) was resigned to live out a life of loneliness, a life where she’d never meet her soulmate. Until fate itself intervened when it sent her tumbling through her bedroom mirror and into a whole new world full of magic and adventure called Twisted Wonderland. At first (Y/n) thought she’d never grew used to this strange land. Though as the months went by, she forged new friendships and even became part of the inner circle of the Diasomnia dorm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy, with thoughts about her shameful secret far from her mind. (Y/n) would pay the price for her carelessness sooner than she would have liked one brisk winter afternoon. She’d gone over to the Diasomnia dorm with the sole intent of working on homework with Sebek. Everything was as it should be until she felt a sudden squeezing sensation on her pinky before her red threads burst into reality. Her eye followed the path of the threads, seeing them split up into four different directions. The nearest one was attached to Sebek’s finger. The boy’s mouth was agape with alarm and for once in his life he was silent. The silence didn’t last long though and soon the young fae was yelling at the top of his lungs. The racket of his panicked hollering roused Silver from his slumber in a chair nearby revealing that there was a thread on his finger as well. Sebek’s shrieks rang across the dorm, grabbing the attention of both Malleus and Lilia who teleported into the common room to see what was wrong. (Y/n) was horrified to see that her remaining two threads were connected to both men. After the initial shock wore off, the girl moved to her feet intent on leaving before being knocked out with a sleeping spell by Malleus. As she drifted back to wakefulness, (Y/n) swore she could hear her name being repeatedly spoken. All while it felt like something was petting her head and something was resting on her legs. When her eyes finally opened, she immediately wished she’d kept them shut. Lilia and Malleus both had their backs to (Y/n) as they continued discussing what they were going to do with her. A quick glance upwards answered (Y/n)’s question about the petting sensation: Sebek was running his fingers through her hair. His attention was utterly focused on the two older fae and their conversation. A glance downwards answered her question about the weight on the lower half of her body: revealing that Silver has decided to use her legs as a pillow. The girl squeezed her eyes shut, both as a way to cut herself off from her current situation and in an effect to forestall the tears that were threatening to fall. The sounds of chattering fading and a shadow looming overhead made her eyes pop open more. The tears (Y/n)’d been trying to hold back finally rushing down her cheeks as Malleus stared at her with a thoughtful expression. The dragon-fae silently scooped her up, removing her from his retainers’ grasp. Malleus began walking towards his room, holding (Y/n) close to his chest as he muttered soothing words and kissed away the tears on her cheeks. By the time the pair had reached the bedroom, the young woman had cried herself to sleep. When she next awoke, Malleus had curled himself around her like a snake and would have stayed like that forever if they didn’t have to go to classes. Despite being in a lower grade than the dragon-fae, she was not allowed to leave his side the entire day. When they returned to Diasomnia for the evening she was handed off to Lilia who cheerfully dragged her off to his room. The moment the door was shut he was digging his fangs into her neck as he hummed softly. The vampiric fae’s soft voice was enough to lull her to sleep despite the pain of having her blood sucked. When morning came, she awoke to a sore neck and a very smug fae snuggled up to her ready to mark her up some more before it was time for school. Again she was forced to remain by her captor’s side instead of going to her own classes. It wasn’t as bad as the previous day, Lilia provided running commentary that (Y/n) couldn’t resist the occasional smile at. Classes eventually let out and when clubs were over as well, it was time to go home. (Y/n) was passed over to an only half-conscious Silver and spend that evening trying catch up on the homework she’d missed with the second-year’s sleeping head on her shoulder. Eventually, she gave up trying and resigned herself for the day by joining him in bed. The next morning she woke up to the boy’s head buried between her breasts and his arm wrapped tight around her waist. Nothing she did could rouse him from his slumber and so she lay there awake but trapped until well past noon. When Silver finally woke up, he seemed desperate to make up for the time he’d lost in sleep, fussing over (Y/n) and mumbling unhappily to himself about oversleeping. (Y/n) was almost relieved to see Sebek that evening when he appeared in the doorway of Silver’s room and announced that it was his turn with her before hauling her off to his room. Her relief disappeared the moment she was in the young-fae’s room and he got all touchy-feely with her as he explained the homework she’d missed. Sebek was intent on helping her with the work even though she insisted she was fine. (Y/n) made the mistake of yawning and was forced to lay down in bed as the young-fae made himself cozy behind her. The sun was barely up when the young woman found herself dragged out of bed to finish their work. When it was time to leave for class she was allowed to go to her classes for the first time in days, but only because Sebek was in the same grade as her. With the end of that school day came the end of her time with her fellow first year and her being handed back to the head of Diasomnia. This became the new normal of her life, being passed between the four men like a ball. Every so often her suffering was increased when all of them agreed to dote on her for the day. She tried asking once, why they had chosen to do this to her. The raw affection that was in their voices as they responded “Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves” was almost enough to break her into submission right then and there... THE END

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 11: You Don’t Come Around No More]

A/N: I apologize profusely for the long wait. Thank you all so, so, so much for your support. Every single reblog, message, comment, emotional rant, and/or screech of despair makes my day, and I couldn’t do this without you. 💜 Only THREE more chapters left!!!

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “More To Life Than Baseball” by Petey. 

Chapter Warnings: Language, angsttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

Word Count: 7.5k. 

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​​​ @maggieroseevans​​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​​ @escabell​​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​​ @queenlover05​​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​​ @some-major-ishues​​​​ @haileymorelikestupid​​​​ @youngpastafanmug​​​​ @simonedk​

The Rain

I wish I felt empty.

I’m supposed to feel empty, right? I’m supposed to feel steeped in grey, oceanic misery; I’m supposed to dip in and out of depressive naps all day and sob delicately over creased photos and fading, wistful memories. I always envisioned heartbreak as a soft and inherently feminine sort of affliction: the hems of nightgowns and bathrobes sweeping along hardwood floors, Kleenex boxes and concave couch cushions, weepy phone calls to friends and aunts and mothers, Queen Victoria wearing black for the rest of her life after Prince Albert’s death, Mary Todd Lincoln sinking into dark and hushed obscurity. Women, hollowed out by despair, cross the history of the earth like lines of latitude.

I don’t feel empty at all. I don’t even feel sad. I feel razored by sharp, red, ceaseless anxiety. I am consumed by thoughts of what I did wrong, what I said that started the wheels of doubt spinning in his mind, if he had known how it would end from the start. I dream of white, clawed hands dragging me down through cold waves. I hear words scream to me as I toss at night in my suddenly too-spacious bed, words that now hit me like knuckles to the gut: Shhh, hey, it’s just me, don’t get up, as Joe slipped beneath the Arizonan blankets, wrapped an arm around my waist, kissed my collarbone as I tumbled back into sleep; I love you to death, as his Subaru idled in Charlie’s driveway; Baby Swan, listen to me, nothing is supposed to hurt, okay, so if anything hurts, ever, at all, you tell me and we stop, deal? as we stood in the doorway of our hotel room at the Four Seasons in Chicago. And now...and now...

And now everything fucking hurts.

It doesn’t make any sense; and yet it does. Look at him. Look at me.

The Polaroid photo from Homecoming was still taped to the top of my full-length mirror. I peeled it free like a layer of translucent, friable reptilian skin, tore it straight down the center, burned both halves over a brand new three-wicked, lemon-scented Bath And Body Works candle—a gift from Renee and Paul—and closed my eyes like a child casting a wish over her birthday cake like a spell. I wished for my memories to vanish with the photograph. I wished to get hit by a truck and wake up in the hospital with no recollection of the past two and a half months. I wanted the Lees to dissolve into distant, enigmatic mystery; I wanted to join the rest of Forks in believing that they were nothing more than bewildering and yet harmless freaks, barely worth noticing, one of those glitches of the matrix that were better off ignored like liminal seconds of déjà vu. I wished to carve out every part of myself that they had ever touched.

And Joe’s voice came rushing back from where we stood by that star-lit fountain outside the Church of Saint Lawrence, accompanied by falling raindrops and a crooked grin: I can make wishes come true.

The three tiny flames flickered in the breeze that sighed through my open window. The bright, citrusy scent of the candle reminded me of Lucy. I couldn’t fucking win. What else is new?

I turned back to the mirror. I flinched when my gaze snagged on my reflection: bloodshot-eyed, swollen-faced, utterly unbeautiful, restless like a caged animal. Look at him. Look at me.

I ripped the last memento off the mirror—Official Citation!! No More Sad Spaghetti!!—and watched the yellow square of paper catch fire, curl up around the edges, become unrecognizable, turn to ash. And I wished over and over again, like a poem, like a prayer: Let me forget, oh god please let me forget.

Charlie keeps asking if I’m okay. The answer, of course, is no; but I can’t tell him that. So I wear a serene smile like clip-on fangs, a cheap polyester cloak, crimson smudges of lipstick like trails of spilled blood down the side of my neck. Every day is Halloween for me now. I dress up as someone who isn’t haunted, who hasn’t become a ghost.

And when Charlie turns up the World Series or I’d Do Anything For Love on his geriatric, staticky kitchen radio—the same radio he’s had since my mother was the one joining him for daybreak coffee and Pop-Tarts—I choke back tears like dragonfire.

Missing In Action (Revisited)

Joe wasn’t here. Neither was Ben.

Lucy, Rami, and Scarlett were sipping cups of tea at the Lees’ usual table, their eyes downcast, their voices low and murmuring, their pristine lunches neglected. Lucy and Rami were dressed in matching charcoal grey turtleneck sweaters; Scarlett had come from Fencing Club and was wearing royal purple yoga pants and a black tank top, her duffle bag of gear on the floor by her sneakered feet. Her hair was in a long fishtail braid. Archer hadn’t mentioned her since Joe broke up with me. That either meant that it was going blissfully and he didn’t want to injure me further, or that Scarlett had ended things as well.

Since Joe broke up with me. That sounds so fucking pedestrian.

I stared at the three present Lees, almost leered, commanding them to see me, to acknowledge me, to admit that I had once meant something to them, that this hadn’t all been some transitory delusion to fill the cavernous void of losing my home, my life as I knew it in Arizona. They took no notice whatsoever.

Jess kicked me beneath the lunch table. My attention snapped back to her.

“Sorry, what?”

“You want to go shopping with me and Angela tonight?” Jessica’s hands were folded just beneath her chin, her voice gentle, her eyes large and sympathetic and watery. This was her version of being supportive. I appreciated it...in a perpetually tormented and preoccupied sort of way.

“No thanks.” I forked my cold, sauceless spaghetti listlessly. I’d forgotten to pack a lunch. I didn’t have an appetite anyway. I had deleted the GrubHub app from my iPhone and had no intention of using it ever again in my comparatively short and calamitous human life.

“You could come to temple this weekend,” Jessica pressed.

“Uh.” Mingling with a churchful of sociable, wholesome, marriage-obsessed adolescent Mormons sounded like the absolute last thing I’d want to spend my evening doing. “That’s a really generous offer, but I’ll pass.”

“Well you have to do something,” Angela said. “You can’t just sit in your bedroom alone all weekend and stare at the wall and wallow in self-pity.”

We’ll see about that. I turned to Jess. “How’s Vodka Boy from your Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class? Did he ever reappear? What’s his name again, Elmo? Ellington? El Chapo?”

“Ellsworth.” She frowned as she slurped her patron-drink-of-Mormons Sprite. “And no, he definitely failed out or overdosed or something, because he never came back.”

“Tragic,” I noted.

“But I’m pretty sure Mike’s coming over this weekend, so we’ll see if I can get some Netflix and chill action going.”

“Jess,” Angela chastised, widening her eyes and nodding to me subtly (but not quite subtly enough). No talking about getting lucky in front of the heartbroken single loser, that look said.

“I think I can be emotionally supportive without taking a goddamn vow of chastity, Angela!” Jessica hurled back.

“I gotta go.” I stood, threw on my backpack, discarded my nearly untouched lunch.

“You’ve barely eaten anything!” Angela protested. “You’ve barely eaten for a week!”

“I’ll live.” I picked my umbrella up off the slippery tile floor—peppered with muddy shoeprints and pearlescent drops of water fallen from coats and limp, sopping locks of hair—and headed out into the pouring rain. I hated the rain. I hated it. Maybe I had forgotten that for a while, but it all came hurtling back now like a hurricane, like a hand cracking across my face. I ached for the desert, for blatant and unapologetic heat, for palm trees and cacti and naked stars in the night sky. I had been researching marine biology graduate programs in the Southwest. There were good ones at UC San Diego, UC Santa Barbara, Texas A&M, the University of Southern California, UCLA. I would miss Charlie and Archer—and maybe Jessica and Angela on occasion—and absolutely nothing else about Forks. At least, that’s what I promised myself.

This is a no-giving-a-fuck-about-Lee-boys zone, I thought morosely.

Ben was brooding at our table in Professor Belvin’s classroom. It was the first time he’d shown up to Chemistry since that day Joe met me on the beach at La Push, since the place I’d once occupied in his universe had closed like a wound. I took my seat beside Ben. The window was shut today, the downpour outside torrential. Ben recoiled, just enough for me to notice; he was wearing his oversized black hoodie and practicing his Welsh, his handwriting messy and unbalanced.

“You could have warned me,” I said.

Ben didn’t glance up from his notebook. “Would that have made it any easier?”

“No,” I realized in defeat. I guess it wouldn’t have. I pulled my own notebook, my favorite pen, and a can of Diet Coke out of my backpack.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ben said. “You really need to know that. It had nothing to do with you. And none of us are happy with the current situation. None of us.”

None of them. That included Joe. “Interestingly, that didn’t stop him from creating it.”

Ben was thoughtful, debating his next words. “We’re probably going to be moving soon.”

“What?” I startled; my turquoise blue pen dropped out of my grasp and rolled across the table. Ben snatched it up and returned it to me. “Really?”    

“Yeah.”

“And what, just redo this whole college thing?”

Ben shrugged. “We’ll probably start our junior years over again. Gwil will say there was some horrible family tragedy and we needed a few semesters off. I could use the extra time to figure out Calc anyway. Parametric equations make me want to kill myself.”

I just stared at him. It didn’t make any sense. “But...why would the whole family leave Forks? Because of me? One pathetic, aggrieved human? Do you all pack up and relocate every time Joe fucks and dumps someone? That must be exhausting.”

“It’s better for everyone if we get some distance. Put more space between our world and yours.”

“But...” I tried to imagine never seeing any of them again: no Mercy humming merrily as she tossed handfuls of homegrown carrots to the alpacas, no Dr. Lee dabbing away my blood with an ageless sort of patience, no Scarlett or Lucy or Rami, no brief glimpses of Joe as he avoided me in the campus library. It’s exactly what I wanted; and yet it wasn’t. It so, so, so, so wasn’t. It keeps getting worse. How is that possible? My voice was flimsy and quivering, absolutely pitiful. Disgustingly pitiful. “Who will be my lab partner?”

Ben peered over at me with wide, confused green eyes. And then—gingerly, awkwardly, like holding an acquaintance’s baby for the first time—he laid his hand over mine. “I’ll miss you too.”

Professor Belvin lectured about coordinate covalent bonds. I didn’t absorb a word. I conjugated Italian verbs with my turquoise blue pen, sketched disordered whirlpools of ink, tried not to think about whether this was my last-ever Chemistry class with Ben, whether it was my last-ever weekend sharing Forks with the Lees. Those rageful, frantic thoughts were back. What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Why did he have to leave?

My nomadic gaze caught on a flier on the wall next to our misted window. I had assumed it was a leaflet for some club or protest or seasonal dance that I would definitely not attend, but it wasn’t. It was a missing poster.

Have you seen this student? the flier asked in bold, businesslike black font. It was urgent, but not quite despairing; not yet, anyway. I could hear a Dean of Student Affairs cajoling some affluent, strings-of-pearls-adorned mother over the phone: Yes ma’am, you have my full attention and I can assure you that we’re very concerned, but I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding...he’s probably gone backpacking or sailing with some friends and forgotten to call home. You know how college students can be. Beneath a large photo of a grinning blond kid—pink polo, flushed cheeks, clever crop job to nix a can of Natty Light clutched in one fist—was a name: Ellsworth Jonathan Griffin.

Ellsworth, I thought, my stomach plummeting. The guy from Jessica’s Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class. He hadn’t failed out. He was missing. Missing like a 20/20 episode or a true crime podcast, missing like the pregnant stillness before a murder is confessed in some glaringly florescent-lit interrogation room, before a distended and bloodless corpse washes up on shore.

I turned to Ben. He noticed me eventually, crinkled his brow, shrugged in that way that seemed so petulant if you didn’t know him well enough to not be offended.

I pointed to the flier and raised my eyebrows. Ben twisted around in his chair to look. Then he sighed, scribbled a sentence in the corner of a piece of notebook paper, tore it free, and slid it across the table.

Ben’s note read, in atrocious penmanship: Are you seriously asking me if I ate that guy?

Maybe, I wrote back after a moment’s hesitation. Maybe that wasn’t exactly what I was asking; maybe I just wondered if he knew anything about it.

In either case, Ben’s reply was swift and resounding, and underlined three times: No.

Sorry, I wrote, abruptly remorseful. I am a jerk. And I added a frowny face for good measure. Ben chuckled when he saw it, shook his head, gave me a drawn little smirk. His words tiptoed around in my skull, leaving searing imprints like footprints in the sand. I’ll miss you too.

I have to forget about them. I drummed my turquoise blue pen against my notebook as Professor Belvin drew families of molecules on the whiteboard with squealing dry erase markers. I have to find a way to make myself forget.

Jessica was waiting for me in the hallway after class. It was part of her convince-Baby-Swan-not-to-jump-off-a-cliff initiative. “Hey.”

“Okay,” I told her with steely resolve. “I’m ready for you to set me up with one of those guys from your church or temple or whatever. I’m ready to be a nice wholesome wife, pop out like six kids, learn how to scrapbook, give up caffeine and horror movies, do the whole white picket fence thing. Sign me up.”

Jessica blinked at me. There were flecks of fallen mascara on her cheekbones like ashes. “What?”

“You’re a Mormon, right?”

“Girl, I’m not a Mormon,” Jessica said, puzzled. “I’m a witch.”

Lucille

I found Joe where he usually was these days: sprawled on the sofa, engulfed in the same blue Snuggie he’d been wearing for thirty-six uninterrupted hours, gazing catatonically at the big-screen tv. A 90 Day Fiancé marathon was on. Some rodentish guy named Colt was apologizing to his gorgeous, aspiring-green-card-holding Brazilian love interest for calling the cops on her during their last screaming match. He was also apologizing for the fact that they lived in a two-bedroom apartment with his mother. I didn’t need clairvoyance to see where their future was headed.

“Hey,” Ben said when he spotted me. He was sitting next to Joe and occasionally tried to shove pieces of popcorn into his mouth, which Joe accepted passively like coins plinked into a gumball machine. Ben had been his shadow for the past week; he was perhaps the best equipped of us to understand this degree of melancholy, of hopelessness.  

“Ciao.” And then, to Joe: “How are you?”

“Terrible,” he replied, not tearing his eyes from the tv.

“I figured.” I squeezed between them on the couch, curled up next to Joe, rested my chin on his shoulder. He ignored me completely. I could hear Mercy tapping at her laptop keyboard out in the dining room; she was browsing through Zillow listings in Portland, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, Cleveland. Dear god, please don’t let us end up in fucking Cleveland. “Guess what.”

Joe stared at the tv for a long time before he answered. “What.”

“I had a vision of you. Just now, as I was doing laundry. Crystal clear and very scenic too, I might add.”

“Fascinating,” Joe said flatly.

“What happened in this vision?” Ben asked, far more invested, which I was thankful for.

“It was pretty far away, maybe a year from now. I saw you in the desert at night, under a full moon. There were cacti everywhere. The shadow of the Milky Way was threaded through the sky, and the stars were very bright. I could make out the constellations Pegasus and Cassiopeia. You were filling up a tiny glass bottle with dirt.”

“That’s remarkably helpful,” Joe said.

“It is, a little bit,” I insisted. “It means you get through this. That you have a future. I get nervous when I go too long without a vision of someone in the family. But now I know you’re going to be okay.”

The reflections of the feuding 90 Day Fiancé couples danced in his glassy eyes. “Being alive doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

“That’s dark,” Ben said. “Even I think that’s too dark.” He pushed a handful of popcorn into Joe’s mouth. “Are you gonna hunt at some point or what?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna sit on this couch and waste away?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to bring you anything? Grizzly bear? Brown bear? Fuck it, I’ll get you a polar bear if that’s what you want. There’s probably some on the black market. Rami would know.”

“He what?” Mercy called from the kitchen. Her typing had stopped.

“Nothing, Mom!” I shot back.

“I don’t want anything,” Joe said. That was a lie, of course. We all knew what he wanted. Rami couldn’t stand to be around him; the thoughts were relentless, smothering.

I linked my arms around Joe’s neck, laid my head against his chest, sighed deeply and mournfully. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I know that doesn’t fix anything. But I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll help however I can. We all will.”

And I had accepted that Joe wasn’t going to respond at all when he finally whispered: “I just wish I could forget.”

Cato

My rolling suitcase snagged on the cobblestone driveway. The tiny spinning wheels bashed against concrete as I scaled the front steps. As the taxi pulled away, I dug around in my suit pocket for my keys, found them, unlocked the enormous front door, stepped inside the palace as my suitcase trolled along the marble floor.

“Cato’s back!” Charity announced as she breezed down the nearest staircase, beaming and embracing me. She was a lovely, innately warm woman from Pointe-Noire, Congo; she still wore the silver cross necklace her mother had once given her around her neck. “Did you have a nice flight? Wait, let me check.” She pressed the fingertips of her right hand to my cheek. I felt the memories rush up like blood to a flushed face: the bite of sipped champagne against my tongue, the thin semi-transparent newspaper pages gliding between my fingers, the husky voice of the bearded, bearish naval officer who sat in the seat beside me, the misted silhouette of Vladivostok as it rose up out of the Pacific Ocean. “Uneventful, but pleasant enough. You flew commercial?”

“The jets were otherwise occupied, apparently.” Charity could see things with the predictability and precision that Lucy so often lacked, but only the past. I pushed her hand away. “Was that really necessary?”

“You’re not mad,” Charity declared, confident, impish, helping me shed my suit jacket and draping it over her arm. “You’re never mad.”

She was very nearly correct. “Where are the rest of the kids?”

“In the kitchen. Go say hello, they’ve missed you dreadfully.”

“I know the feeling.” I kicked off my Berlutis, ran a palm over the wiry fur of the Irish Wolfhounds that appeared to greet me before they resumed padding watchfully around the palace, and went to the kitchen, my black socks slipping a bit on the marble floors.

I could hear their voices before I reached the door: laughter, teasing, complaints, requests. The scents of pancakes and cold butter and maple syrup were thick in the air. Charity was one of our four newest recruits, and they all still had that energetic lightness of being human, a youthful enthusiasm, a relative normalness. I spent quite a lot of time with them. It was my job—to help with the transition, to keep them happy, to facilitate the welding of their individual parts into the beastly machine that was the Draghi—but oftentimes it felt more like a reprieve. Some would stay close to me as they matured, others would grow in different directions, like ambitious vines climbing the skeleton of a garden trellis. I usually missed them when they ‘grew up,’ so to speak...although there were exceptions. I had never liked Liesl. I had always liked Ben. I opened the door.

“Ah, you are home!” Ksenia cried from where she stood over the stove, a spatula in her right hand, bouncing excitedly in place on her small bare feet.

“Hey!” Max and Austin called together. They were both sitting with their shoes propped up on the unglamorous kitchen table. There was a massive formal dining room that could accommodate up to twenty-five guests, but we rarely used it.

“Good morning,” I said, aware that I was smiling for the first time in days.

Max groaned as he scrolled through his Google search results on a burner phone. “What the fuck. My name is one of the top five dog names again. I think I’m gonna have to change it.”

I ruffled his long blond hair, stealing a piece of bacon from his plate. Max had grown up a trust fund kid in Perth, Australia. His mother was old money; his father was a professional surfer. “Your name is fine.”

“Really, Kato Kaelin? Is it really? How am I supposed to intimidate people when I have a fucking dog name?”

“So make them call you Maximilian,” offered Ksenia in a heavy Ukrainian accent. She’d only been with us for eight months, but her English was coming along swimmingly. She flipped a massive A-shaped pancake on the sizzling griddle. That one was for Austin.

“Seriously?” Max said. “That is just way too many syllables. They’ll be halfway down the block by the time I’m done introducing myself. ‘Hey, come back mate, I haven’t killed ya yet.’”

“At least you aren’t stuck with a basic-white-boy-circa-1992 name for all of eternity,” said Austin Tyler McInerny, originally of Sheboygan, Wisconsin. He was chomping on a multicolored Fruit Roll-Up, which swung from his mouth like a lizard’s tongue. He’d been working at an ailing skatepark when Larkin found him. He still enjoyed showing off his kickflips, and kept insisting that he was going to teach me how to ollie. I didn’t have the faintest idea what an ollie was.

“Do you want a pancake, Cato?” Ksenia asked, passing Austin his plate and wiping her hands on her pink apron. Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail with a matching rose-colored ribbon. She looked so young. She was so young, actually. Nineteen. And she would be forever.

“No, thank you dear. I’m alright.”

“I like Alaric,” Max decided. “First king of the Visigoths. Alaric is a name fit for a vampire. Creepy, yet dignified. Or maybe Silas. Or Draco.”

Austin shook his head as he swirled a river of viscous maple syrup over his A-shaped pancake. “Definitely not Draco.”

“Why not?”

“Well, the Harry Potter connection is unfortunate. People will hear Draco and think of that obnoxious white-haired kid from the evil snake-people house or whatever.”

“Oh, right,” Max sighed. “Like I said. Alaric would work.”

“So many A-shaped pancakes!” Ksenia poured a K on the griddle for herself.

“It’s good for you,” Austin replied, pointing at her with his fork. “We’re practicing English.”

“Alaric Luther,” Max mused, scrolling through his phone. I didn’t think he’d find that on any list of trendy dog names. “Alaric Lothaire...Alaric Lucian...”

“I like your name, Max,” Larkin said from the doorway. None of us had heard him arrive. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, wearing a deep maroon suit and a ring on every finger, grinning hugely. He was exactly as I remembered him: stunning, captivating, terrifying. The kitchen fell quiet. I could smell Ksenia’s pancake beginning to burn.

At last Max chuckled nervously, pushing soggy pancake hunks around on his plate with his fork, averting his gaze. “Guess I’ll keep it then.”

“I thought I heard you come in,” Larkin told me.

“It’s always a pleasure to be home.”

He nodded out towards the hallway. “Come. Regale me with the stories of your travels.” Then his eyes flicked down to my socks, and he grimaced—slightly, briefly—before turning away. “And find your shoes.”

I followed him through the hallway, the living room, the grand front foyer with the crystal chandelier, into the elevator. Larkin did not speak, but he hummed as we ascended: House Of The Rising Sun.

It hadn’t always been like this. It was difficult for me to pick out the details of what had changed—the tone of his voice, the proportion of wonder and gratitude I associated with him versus fear, the way this palace (or the one in Reykjavik, or Juneau, or Ivalo, or Murmansk, or any of the others) felt when I stepped inside it—but I knew something had. It had begun before Ben left. It was much worse now. Older vampires, in my fairly learned opinion, are something like the stars. They mellow as they age, temper their character flaws, grow wise and patient like Nikolai or Honora or Gwilym Lee; or they rage until they burn away every last atom of humanity, until they destroy themselves and take entire solar systems down with them. Increasingly, I harbored fears that Larkin was a vampire of the latter variety. And we were all his planets.

In his study, Larkin dropped into the chair behind his desk, brought a hand to his forehead, surveyed a disarrayed flurry of papers: letters, notices, deeds and titles, meticulously managed accounts of finances and disciplinary actions. Larkin had a laptop and burner phone, of course, as we all did; but he liked to work in paper as much as possible. That’s how he’d done things for centuries, since long before the name of the inventor of the internet (or harnessed electricity, for that matter) was a whisper on his parents’ lips. The sky outside was clouded and seeping soft rain.

“Things have been busy?” I ventured.

He frowned, gesturing to the cluttered desk. “I’m in purgatory.”

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that. Can I help?”

“The Lancaster coven says they’ll need an extension for their dues. That’s the second year in a row, now it’s not just an exception, it’s a precedent. If you let one coven bend the rules, others will follow. So something will have to be done. Then there’s Stockholm. Anders’ coven has eaten a few too many locals—including the mayor’s favorite niece—and now the city is launching an investigation. Fucking idiots. They’ll probably all have to relocate. There’s some new territory dispute in Lima between Alejandro’s coven and a group of strangers that just came out of the Andes. We’ll have to make their acquaintance, of course. And as if all that weren’t enough, Rigel accidentally fed on a heroin addict and he’s currently detoxing in a cell in the basement. Would you check on him for me? I’m sure your presence will be a...” He waved his hand distractedly, almost dismissively, searching for the words. “A comfort to him.”

“Of course.”

“How are the Lees?”

“Fine. Typical. Gwil’s putting in a lot of hours at the hospital. Rami’s planning to get another law degree. Ben is, uh, adjusting. Slowly, very slowly. He’s not particularly content. But he hasn’t murdered anyone that I’m aware of.”

“How nice.” Now his eyes darted up to catch mine: focused, luminous, unreadable. “Nothing new at all?”

And instantly, I wanted to tell him everything. I forgot why I had ever planned to blunt the girl’s existence, to conceal her talent entirely; I felt her name rising in my throat. And then I remembered again. I’m doing this for Gwil, for Ben.

I pretended to ponder Larkin’s question, as if it was so difficult to remember, as if there was nothing left to sift through but a trunkful of mundane details from the trip like a grandfather’s tattered correspondence and tarnished war relics. That was something an average family might have squirreled away in their attic, I assumed; I’d never met my own grandfather, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have had anything to leave me if I had. “Joe’s got some new girlfriend, but I don’t think it’s serious. I doubt she’ll be around long. You know how Joe is. Scarlett’s seeing someone too, actually. A Quileute kid.”

“Poor boy.” And Larkin grinned like a shark beneath burning eyes. “He’s in for a lifetime of disappointment. Who will ever be able to hold a candle to those memories?”

Larkin had a moderate preoccupation with Scarlett’s beauty, her...tenacity. Her lack of talent was a great disappointment to him, a somehow more egregious fault than Joe or Gwil or Mercy’s. What a shame, Larkin often said. And I believed I knew what came after in his mind, although never aloud: What a partner she could have been.

He was still grinning at me. His expression was hollow, vacuous. A shiver clawed down my spine. He was waiting for something. No, he was searching. I stared back, and I willed for that intangible, contagious harmony I carried around like a wedding ring to hit him like carbon monoxide or bromine: undetected and yet inexorable, knocking him off his path of inquisition.

What does he suspect? What does he already know?

“Anyway,” Larkin continued abruptly, turning his attention back to his paperwork. “I’m glad there’s nothing to worry about in Forks. Liesl will be back in the next few days, Rigel will be ready to work again, I’ll come up with a plan to handle all this and my mood will improve tremendously.”

And where has Liesl been? I almost asked; and then I didn’t. It was a good sign that she was coming home. I had looked for her once while I was in Forks. When I made up my mind to find someone—when that switch flipped in my skull or in the tangle of nerves of my solar plexus or wherever it lived—it wasn’t like poking around on Google Earth: zooming in here, scrolling over there. A goldish trail lit up on the floor, a ‘Yellow Brick Road’ Honora and I sometimes joked, and I followed it. And I had no way of knowing how far that trail might lead. A route heading dead east from the palace might stop in the next town over or continue across the Pacific Ocean; my search might last one day or a hundred. In Forks—as I perched in a soaring western hemlock tree in the forest outside the Lee residence on a cool October evening—Liesl’s trail had led north. North to Vancouver, to Victoria, to Dawson, to Alaska? Who the fuck knew. I was just relieved it hadn’t led to the tree next to mine.

“Well, as always, I’m happy to assist however I can,” I told Larkin. “Just let me know and I’ll be on the next flight out of Vladivostok.”

“I appreciate that, Cato.” He smiled, paternally this time. And then he spun his chair around to peer out the window into the episodic flares of lightning that illuminated great dark clouds like neurons in a celestial brain. I hate thunderstorms. They remind me of South Carolina. “But I think you’ve earned a rest.”

After checking in on Rigel—irritable, frenetic, pacing, and yet predictably pacified somewhat by my visit—I trotted up the main staircase to the second floor of the palace. I found her in our bedroom: sitting at her easel, a paintbrush held in one graceful hand, an image like a photograph on the canvas. I promptly pried off my Berlutis for the second time today and tossed them into the closet.

“Ciao, amore,” I said.

“Ciao!” Honora replied, beaming. Her curly brunette hair was pinned up and away from her face; wayward tendrils spiraled down to brush her bare shoulder blades, the back of her neck. “Just give me five minutes...I have to finish the shadow of this tree...”

There weren’t many in the Draghi who survived the transition from Nikolai’s leadership to Larkin’s, but Honora had. She was gentle to a fault, a hopeless warrior, turned into an immortal on her forty-fourth birthday when Rome was still an empire; and she was without any talents whatsoever, except for one which was useless in combat. Her paintings, drawings, and sculptures adorned every palace the Draghi owned. Each year, Larkin would ask her to paint all of us together, incorporating any new faces, erasing the memories of those who had proven themselves unworthy. One such portrait, I knew, hung in Gwilym Lee’s home office.

I went to the woman I called my wife, laid my palms on her shoulders, leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Take your time, love.”

“Everything’s alright?” Honora asked, looking hopefully up at me with large, wide-set jade eyes. No, not just hopefully. Trustingly.

“Everything’s alright,” I agreed, not knowing if I believed it.

Shadows And Spells

“He just...just...disappeared?!” Jessica sputtered, scandalized, gaping at me as she held a Styrofoam cup of spiked apple cider in her clasped hands.

We were on a quilt near the outskirts of the sea of beach towels and blankets that circled the bonfire. Women—wearing flowing dresses or robes or tunics or not very much at all—flounced around the flames banging tambourines and reciting chants that I didn’t know the words to. Some carried torches, beacons of heat and light in the darkness. Jessica was wearing a short black shirt, fishnet tights, and a black crop-top turtleneck sweater; I had opted for a bohemian blue dress patterned with stars, an old thrift shop find and the closest thing I owned to Wiccan festivities apparel. I had a cup of hot apple cider as well, enhanced with a generous splash of Captain Morgan, but hadn’t quite conjured up the rebelliousness to drink it yet.

I suddenly recalled Mercy bringing me an endless supply of virgin autumnal sangrias as Joe and I swam in the hot tub on the Lees’ back porch. As soon as you turn twenty-one, you can have the real thing. I frowned, shuddered, took a bitter and burning sip.

“Yeah,” I replied. “He told his roommate he was going to a frat party or something and never showed up and never made it back home either. The parents are blaming the university, the university is insisting he must be off with a girlfriend or on some hipster soul-searching nature adventure or whatever, it’s a mess.”

“Jesus,” she murmured. “What does your dad say?”

“He’s been helping the state police with the investigation. There’s really no evidence of anything. No witnesses, no footprints, no surveillance footage, no handy anonymous tips...”

“No body,” Jessica finished.

“That’s morbid.” I downed the rest of my cider. Was the world already beginning to list like a ship on choppy waves, or was that just my imagination? I guess it would be possible. I’d barely eaten all day.

“You were thinking it.”

“Well, one’s mind does tend to wander towards homicide under such circumstances.”

“It is the season of the dead.” She grinned wickedly, then took my empty cup. “He’s probably fine. I bet he wants to drop out to become a weed farmer and hasn’t worked up the guts to tell his parents yet. You want another?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” Jess rose to balance on black boots with five-inch heels and staggered off to the foldable table piled high with cans and bottles and snacks. I was getting the impression that her Wiccanism was more of a novelty than a spiritual commitment.

The season of the dead. Now that’s VERY morbid.

There were some guys laughing, smoking home-rolled cigarettes, and toasting glasses of red wine on a nearby mandala blanket, bespectacled intellectual types who were probably getting PhDs in Anthropology or Medieval Studies at the University of Washington. One of them—curly-haired, pale-eyed, wearing a sweater vest and a cautious smile—raised his wine glass in my direction. I waved back without much enthusiasm.

“He’s cute, right?” Jessica asked, plopping back down onto our quilt and shoving a full cup of spiked cider into my grasp. She motioned for me to drink. I did. “That’s Sebastian, but he likes to be called Bash. He’s twenty-three and speaks fluent German.”

“Charming.”

“He’s very...uh...gifted. I’m not saying I know from personal experience, but I’ve heard it from a very reliable source. And his parents own a beach house in Monterey. You could go skinny-dipping.”  

“In the ocean?” The world was definitely wobbling now. I was warm all over, numbed, fuzzy; it was becoming difficult to picture Joe’s face, to hear his voice. This was good. I kept drinking. “No thanks. Too many sharks. They have great whites down there.”

Jess tossed her long, loose hair and sighed impatiently. “I’m just saying that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So you should pursue that.”

“I’ll totally consider it.” I lied. I would not consider it.

She smiled, sympathetically, fondly. “I can’t believe you thought I was a Mormon.”

“I can’t believe I’m out in the Washington wilderness commemorating the Gaelic festival of Samhain, but here we all are.”

Jess glanced over my shoulder. “Oh my god. He’s coming over here.”

“Ugh.” I craned my neck to see. Sebastian—whoops, my mistake, Bash—was approaching. “Please distract him. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Also I’m pretty sure I’m getting drunk and I don’t want to do anything humiliating, like sob uncontrollably about how much I miss my ex-boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry. I gotchu, Baby Swan.”

“Hey Jess,” Bash said, but he was looking at me. He pitched his cigarette off into the trees. What the fuck, who does that?

“Only you can prevent forest fires,” I told him in a woozy, mock-Smokey Bear voice.

“What?” he asked, baffled.

“Ignore her, she’s drunk,” Jess said quickly. “So what’s up? Come on, sit with me. Keep me toasty. Teach me some German...”

As they chatted and giggled and snuggled closer together—I’m starting to think that Jessica might have been her own reliable source—I studied the forest, watching to make sure the cigarette didn’t begin to smolder in the damp brush. The voices and crackling of the bonfire and sharp ringing of the tambourines faded into one muted, uniform drone. The trees reeled in the haze of the spiked cider; the cool wind moaned through them. And then, for only a second: a glimpse of something impossibly quick, something silvery and reedy and sunless.

What was that?

I blinked. It was gone. I blinked again, staring penetratingly. The swarming heat from the cider evaporated from my skin, my blood. There were goosebumps rising all over me.

What the hell was that?

I remembered how Calawah University students sometimes reacted to Ben: flinching, withdrawing, autonomically fearing him on some primal, evolutionary level. They knew he was a predator. They knew they were prey. It was chillingly similar to what I was feeling now.

I have to get out of here. I have to go home.

I shot to my feet. Oh, wrong move, that was too quick. I swayed, and Jessica reached up to steady me. “Are you—?!”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I gotta go home now.”

“What?! We just got here! Look, chill out, let me get you some vegan samosas or something—”

“No, seriously, I have to go.”

“Okay, okay,” Jessica conceded. “I’ll finish my drink and we’ll call an Uber, alright?”

“Really?” Bash asked, crestfallen.

“I’ll call an Uber,” I told Jess. “You stay, I’ll go.” Maybe she shouldn’t stay, I thought foggily, irrationally. Maybe it’s not safe.

“I can’t let you go alone. I got you drunk and now you’re a mess and if you end up murdered it would be my fault. There are unsolved mysteries going around, you know.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Girl, there’s no way I’m gonna—”

“I’ll call you as soon as I get in the Uber and I’ll stay on until I’m physically inside my house, okay?”

Jessica considered this. Bash leaned in to nibble her ear. I could smell the red wine and nicotine and animalistic lust sweating out of his pores. And unexpectedly, agonizingly: a biting flare, a muscle memory, Joe’s fingertips skimming down the small of my back and his scent like winter nights saturating the capillary beds of my lungs. Stop, stop, stop. “Okay,” Jess agreed at last.

“Awesome.” I was already opening the Uber app on my iPhone.

My driver was a Pacific Northwestern version of Santa Claus: wild grey beard, red flannel, L.L.Bean boots, rambling about his upcoming trip to hunt caribou in British Columbia. I honored my promise to Jessica and kept her on speakerphone for the duration of the twenty-minute drive. I rested my whirling head against the seat, let my eyes dip closed, watched the intermittent streetlights appear and disappear through my eyelids. I let myself into Charlie’s house when I arrived, wished Jessica goodnight (and reminded her not to get pregnant), and meandered clumsily into the kitchen for a glass of water and a cookie dough Pop-Tart to ward off a possible hangover. Charlie was snoring quietly on the living room couch. I watched him for a while, smiling and achingly grateful, before heading upstairs to my bedroom.

My window was wide open; that’s the first thing I noticed. I didn’t remember leaving it that way. I was always neglecting to lock the window, sure—I kept forgetting that there was no one to leave it unlocked for anymore—but I hadn’t left it open when I went to meet Jessica this evening. Icy night air flooded in. The stars were bright and furious in an uncommonly clear sky.

“You trying to give me pneumonia, old man?” I muttered, thinking of Charlie. I tossed my iPhone down onto my bed and crossed the room to close the window. And as it creaked and collided with the sill, I heard my closet door open behind me.

Someone’s here. Someone’s in this room with me.

I turned, very slowly; it felt like it took a lifetime. She was standing in the doorway of my closet, sinuous and white-haired, wearing black leather pants and stiletto heels and a long-sleeved lace blouse the color of blood, the color of her eyes. And she was harrowingly beautiful; not like Lucy or Mercy, not like Scarlett. She was beautiful like a prehistoric jawbone, like a serrated crescent moon, like a blade.

The owl. The goddamn albino owl.

I recognized her immediately. I heard Joe’s words as he introduced each vampire in the immense painting hanging in Dr. Lee’s upstairs office to me, though I desperately didn’t want to: She’s literally Satan, only blonder.

Her name tumbled from my trembling lips. “Liesl.”

“Wonderful, we can skip the introductions.” Her voice was like windchimes, cutting and brisk, with a hint of an Austrian accent like a shadow. Now she was at my bedside and picking up my phone, scrolling through it with lightning-quick and dexterous thumbs. “Hm. No texts from any of the Lees in the past week. So we don’t have to worry about them dropping by, I suppose. Joe got bored with you already, huh?”

“Evidently.” My own voice was brittle, anemic, weak; just like my ineffectual human body.

“That’s quick, even for him. How sad.” She sighed, tucking my iPhone into her red Chanel purse. “There’s a private jet waiting at the Forks Airport. Pack a bag. You have five minutes.”

“Please don’t hurt my dad,” I whispered, scalding tears brimming in my eyes.

“Of course not,” Liesl replied with a savage, saccharine smile. “Not yet, anyway.”

[chaosbycari]

2gether The Series Episode 3

The fact that Tine had an imagination that Sarawat would be like this cheesy guy who says stuff like “A guitar is for you to play but I am for yo to love.” 

Tine’s friends are honestly friend goals; they may be stupid but their hearts are in the right place

Doesn’t Green have a boyfriend?

Love that Tine’s plan didn’t work like he planned

“Just freakin take it”

Wat! Bought! The! Chips! With! His! Own! Money!

How dare Green snatch the chips away from him :( 

Green is so cute though, I kinda feel bad 

“Sarawat! Help! Don’t Leave Me!”

Sarawat saves the day!

“I’ve already drunk it.” Sarawat takes a huge gulp of the drink. “So?”

The Nuisance and The Handsome Prince

“Haven’t you been in love with anyone before?” Music dramatically changes.

I LOVE AIR! She’s so cute

What kind of club is this? “Sucky players will be critizied on Social Media”

Tine wants to spend more Sarawat! Yes!

“One one condition...”

“You have me here, no need to be afraid.” MY HEART

Sarawat’s room looks like what i expected it to be

I looked up Scrubb and they’re really good and the Close song I feel like is foreshadowing

Their getting closer!!

“Are you talking about a band or a computer?”

All of the bands Sarawat likes are either Indie bands or rock bands

Tine is so cute 

Was that a moment?!

Poor Sarawat he just wants to tune the guitar

“I am a member of #TeamSarawatsWives”

He’s playing Close!!

He’s singing too!

Tine joined in!

That smile, Tine?

“That was ... nice.”

“Suppose I am flirting with you...” Okay but like that wac cute, he seemed nervous to ask

AHHHHHHH

Sarawat is trying so hard to get Tine’s love

No not you too Fang?

“I came to see Tine.”

Fang i expected better than this

“For that question I answered what I like.” IM GONNA DIE FROM ALL THIS CUTENESS

I love that sweater!

Tine! You! Should! Not! Be! Looking! At! Girls!Like! That! You! Have! Sarawat!

My mood just dropped because of Pear, no offence to her she seems like a sweet girl

I’ve never been happier to see Green

What was that face Dim gave Green?

If anything you are bothering him Green

Sarawat seems jealous 

“I will listen to it and think of Pear.” Listen here Tine I swear i will personally hit you

“Do you think... a person who has never been in love can write a love song?”

My heart has exploded

Green please leave

“Are you tired?” Yeah of you

Sarawat looks hot in those gym clothes tho

Shoulder touch!

Does Tine think he can speak through his thoughts or?

Damn it Wat!

Boy if you do not stop being selfish

they were so close to figuring out Sarawat liked Tine

What is this restaurant?

 Sarawat ordered the cake didn’t he?

AHHHHH

“Both 1 and 2 mean I like you”

“What!?”

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Talk to me // Dabi x Tomura x Reader soulmate au // (poly)

a/n: look,,,, im not gonna lie i had to split this bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted the next part to b angst heavy or smut heavy. or both. so enjoy! warnings: angstish,,, self harm mention,,, yandere themes,,,, i think thats it???  requests: open 

The world hated you, that was it. Was it because of how you used your quirk? Quite possibly, you’d turned to a villains life without batting an eye, hadn’t you? Still, you didn’t think that meant you deserved this. You’d joined the league a month ago, Toga had bugged you until you gave in, it’s not like you had anything better to do. It’d been good, for about a day, and then like your life always seemed to do, it went to shit. Dabi and Shigaraki had come back, all over each other which was frankly what you’d expected from what Toga told you. You couldn’t really blame them, they were soulmates, you were kinda happy for them at first, until they’d spoken to you. 

“You must be Toga’s friend.” 

“You’re not what I was expecting.” 

Words had burned through your soul, you’d been waiting to hear those words since you were sixteen, and now this- this was happening? You hadn’t spoken, not wanting them to know, only nodding before you’d turned back to Toga. 

Luckily you could avoid them with relative ease, you didn’t live at the base, you had a nice apartment all to yourself that you loved. You’d worked hard for it, it was your home. And right now you missed it more than you thought possible. You could be curled up in bed with a drink… maybe some weed, but no, instead you were on some bullshit mission with Dabi. Well, technically the mission was finished, you were walking back now. He hadn’t pressed you to talk, him and Shigaraki just… thought you didn’t at this point.

“So, what’s with you and avoiding me and Tomura.” Dabi’s words had you freezing in place, biting your tongue until you tasted blood.

“I mean, it’s kinda obvious, you’re friends with everyone except us, and I want to know what you’re hiding.” You grit your teeth, you were almost back at the base, Toga was waiting for you and you could-

“Hey, stop being such a bitch!” Dabi hissed, hand clamping around your arm and making you yelp. Your eyes locked on his, mouth still shut tight and worry pounding through your veins. His grip tightened and you winced, sharp pain followed b a warmth that could only mean-

“What the fuck?” Dabi didn’t pull his hand back, staring at the blood that soaked through your shirt, coating his fingers and revealing something you’d managed to keep hidden for years. Fucking dumbass, he should have left you alone. 

“Y/n, is-”

“Fuck off, Dabi. I know what I’m doing.” You hissed, wrenching your arm away and bolting to the nearest club, he’d never go there. 

The club was higher end than you’d usually go, but heroes came here and you were betting on that to hide you. 

“There you are Y/n! Ths place was so hard to find!” Toga slid into the booth next to you, happily grabbing the drink you’d gotten for her. 

“Yeah, but no one we know comes here.” You were already on your second drink, although your friend seemed determined to catch up. 

“Good point Y/n! You were always so smart!”

“Shhhh, Toga we don’t wanna wake anyone up!” You whispered, hand covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. It was almost four am, everyone else was sleeping and you and Toga had decided to go back to the base after realizing there was no way you’d be able to make it your apartment. You made it to her room without incident, thank god, closing the door before the two of you dissolved into giggles. 

“God, we haven’t done this in ages!” Toga sat on the bed, you following without a moment of hesitation. 

“It’s been too long.” You agreed, lazy grin overtaking your face as you leant forward. Toga’s face mirrored yours, she’d always been good at picking up your moods, and her hands wound around your neck as you kissed her. You pushed her down on the bed, god her lips were so soft, hands trailing over her to try and get her clothes off. Toga was just as desperate, her fangs dragging along your lips and you weren’t even surprised when you felt a knife rip through your clothes. 

“You owe me another pair of jeans Toga.” Your tone was light, briefly pulling away before you focused on her neck.

“I always pay you back Y/n, you know that.” Her hands pulled off the shreds of your clothes, fabric littering the bed around you. You nodded,, lidded eyes fixed on Toga as you settled between her legs, pushing her skirt up and hooking your fingers on the band of her underwear. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Shigaraki hissed, and you couldn’t help but turn, eyes looking him and Dabi over. 

“You’re welcome to join.” You smirked, watching him tremble at the words. 

“Dabi, grab them.” He turned and left, leaving you with Toga and Dabi.

“You guys wanna have a threesome?” You joked, too drunk to grasp the situation as Dabi scoffed, tugging you up by your wrist. 

“Okay so that’s a no… just lemme grab a shir-”

“God you’re stupid.” Dabi shook his head, covering you in his jacket before scooping you up.

“Okay, easy there big boy, have you see-seen my quirk? I’m great.” You slurred, head too heavy to do anything except fall to Dabi’s shoulder.

“Whatever you say.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” You groaned as sunlight hit your face, hand pushing your hair out of your face. You weren’t in your apartment, and you were wearing someone else’s shirt. 

“God not again, I hope my pants are around…” You pushed the covers off, thankful the shirt was big enough to fall past mid thigh. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for my- Dabi?” You jumped back, arms crossing over your chest. “Oh this is bad, I knew I was shitty but I’ve never gone for taken people… I really need to lay off the booze.” You mumbled, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. 

“We didn’t sleep together. However, you did come home plastered at four am, and Tomura and I had to stop you fucking Toga and bring you back here. You passed out.” Dabi’s voice was cold and you frowned. Feelings warred for dominance, the strongest being the fact they had no business who you slept with, you weren’t theirs. 

“Okay, good to know. I’m gonna go uh, find some clothes and ask Kurogiri to warp me back home.” 

“I don’t think so. Tomura was crushed last night, and he doesn’t want you leaving the base.”

“Excuse me? Fuck that Dabi, I’m fucking going.” 

“No, you’re not. We’re gonna wait for him to get back, and when that happens we’re all gonna sit down and have a nice little chat.” 

You’d never been in a situation this tense, Dabi was standing by the door and you were left on the bed, trying to cover as much as you could with one shirt. You could have sworn there was an anxiety rash on the back of your neck, and your fingers were itching to find something sharp. Your nails had been getting long, maybe you could-

“Don’t even think about using your quirk.” You startled, eyes jumping up to meet red ones. You’d never seen Shigaraki this mad before. It was… kinda hot you had to admit. 

“Look, Shigaraki, Dabi, I really don’t see the big-”

“How long have you been hiding this from us?” Shigaraki’s voice was cold, hands twitching by his side.

“Uh well… since you guys spoke to me, I guess. You already had a good thing going and I didn’t wanna… screw it up.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“Yeah, well, I made it anyway.” You were already getting defensive, walls and masks flying back up before you could do anything.

“We’ve been waiting for you for years, brat. How the fuck could you not say anything, you’re our-”

“I’m not yours, actually, and now if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Toga. She owes me some pants.” You were pushed down as soon as you stood up, when had Shigaraki gotten that close? 

“What the fu-” You went silent as Shigaraki clipped a bracelet around your wrist, hands surprisingly gentle and you wanted to crawl out of your skin when his fingers brushed up against your scars.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, arm pulled back as though it had burned. In a way it had, it was too much. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Dabi finally spoke, you’d forgotten about him, actually. Wow, you really were a shitty soulmate.

“We can touch you as much as we like, you’re our soulmate.”

“Shigaraki, look-”

“Call me Tomura.” 

“Shiga-”

“Do you really wanna finish that sentence?” Hands grabbed onto your legs and you shut your eyes, waiting for his quirk to kill you, only to be able to open your eyes a second later, still alive.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet makes you immune to my quirk, Dabi has one too.” 

“Keep in mind, your bracelet also cancels your quirk, until we can trust you.” 

“Okay, I’m out.” You shook your head, trying to push Tomura off of you. 

“You haven’t even given us a chance. We’ve been dreaming of finding you since our words appeared and you won’t even give us a chance?” You were caught off guard at that, you’d never seen those red eyes look sad. 

“I uh, it’s not you guys, it’s me! I’m just… really a lot to handle, and uh… you guys seemed so happy I just didn’t wanna mess anything up?” You trailed off as the pair exchanged a look. That couldn’t be good, honestly you couldn’t see it ending up well for you. 

“Well if that’s all,”

“We’ll just have to show you how important you are to us.”

Great, they finished each other sentences. You were certainly in for a treat. 

“It’s no big deal, you guys really don’t-”

“You obviously need our help, need us. Did you know staying away from your soulmate for long periods of time declines your mental state?” Dabi scoffed despite walking over to the bed, letting his hand rest on Tomura’s shoulder. 

Okay, you didn’t know that, and it must’ve shown on your face. Tomura reached out, hand cupping your face, and you didn’t know if you liked the way it burned. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun.”

[traincc]

there’s no call of the wild fandom but i dont give a shit . i will talk about this stupid large dog and his stupid good narrative with his stupid good human until i die. 

call of the wild is like.. one of my favorite books. i read it in 9th??? grade?? for summer reading and it was the best shit ever. i’ve read it like a dozen more times since then and every damn time i cry like a little BITCH because it’s such a powerful story and dogs are precious and animals are better than anything else in the world. 

i watched the movie yesterday! the new one not one of the old ones. and honestly i thought it was good. it’s really hard for me to objectively judge the movie since the book is just TOO good and there are so many things that are just better communicated through words than film so like the movie wasn’t doomed to fail but it was doomed to not measure up to the book (most movie adaptations are like that, but especially for this baby)

tl;dr, the movie is good but the book is phenomenal. please do not read spoilers or watch the movie if you want the full impact of the story. read the book. read the book. read the book. (it’s 230 ish pages. not too long)

i was on the verge of crying for half the movie and i wish i was kidding but the chest sensations and eye stinging were a bit too real lakshdglksd

and i cried 3 times, twice during the climax, and once during the epilogue-like ending. so it was still a powerful story! but some things made it. not as great as the book.

1. most obviously, the movie is narrated by john thornton (harrison ford) while the book is told from the perspective of buck

this completely changes the narrative, and i was a little concerned the movie was gonna be about john instead of buck but they kept it about buck! they make john’s role bigger instead of him just coming in at the end of the book right before the climax, so it is less buck-centered but it’s still buck-centered! which is very good.

BUT the actual impact is that we don’t get to see as much of buck’s inner thoughts. by default a movie cannot accomplish this like a book can (i’m really trying to sell the book here. please read it). the realizations that buck has and his learning moments are so essential to his character and development. the biggest downside to this is that the law of club and fang gets a tiny tiny role. it’s basically just an easter egg for the readers it’s so nonessential in the movie. 

(i’m really bad at staying on topic... so i’m adding the numbered points after i type the paragraphs)

(2. censorship of animal abuse)

this is because they had to take out the animal abuse from the man in the red sweater, the deaths of the sled dogs when buck first joins the team, and the dogs that starved to death. all of these really enforced buck’s mental and physical endurance and the movie misses out on that for obvious and understandable reasons. 

one change that im REALLY disappointed with is that they made spitz run away!!!!! no!!!!! buck HAD to kill spitz. don’t show that because duh but imply it! buck needed to kill spitz. make the movie pg 13! anything but pg because you miss out on all the extreme moments that, yes, are extreme, but are key points in buck’s life. killing spitz and becoming leader was one of the most important parts of the book. the FIRST important moment. 

3. the ending

the ending is very very different. it’s not COMPLETELY different. but it’s very different. partly understandable (similar to the exclusion of animal abuse) and partly not executed well as a movie. 

in the movie, Hal survives the spring river and is bent on revenge, believing john thornton is a prospector who tried to selfishly deceive him. he tracks down john and buck and shoots john. before he can deliver a faster death, buck pushes him into the house fire caused by his initial attack. 

buck is there with john in his dying moments (i cried twice) before leaving to go to his pack. he returns every spring to see the remains of the house (i cried again) and his pups are there too. he is the leader of the pack and there’s some nice voiceover by ford.

they imply hal’s revenge the moment he comes back on screen after the river. it’s hanging there for like half an hour, and for anyone who’s read the book the ending is obvious. i would’ve preferred they left john’s cause of death open to interpretation (not much to interpret lol) and kept the shock factor that the book had.

in the book, hal, charles, and mercedes die (they deserve it) along with the remainder of the sled team :( my memory is a little rusty but i believe john and buck go camping. in the book john also has two other dogs and i think a friend or two that they go camping with. buck feels the call of the wild strongest in this section of the book. there’s imagery and metaphor that are really nice and poetic.

buck goes out hunting and begins to run with a wolf pack. he goes out for longer and longer periods (which is shown in the movie too) and he does bigger and bigger things. he’s riding a high, a balance of the wild and the world of man with john, who has loved him like no other master has. it’s the best time of his life. until he comes back to camp and the dogs are slaughtered, the other men are dead, and john thornton has been reduced to a corpse. enraged, buck kills the perpetrators (a tribe of natives, so you BEST believe they yeeted that out of the movie real fast), pays his respects, and leaves forever for the wild. 

what makes this ending so good is the shock of the massacre. the raw emotions in buck. i can’t describe it and do it justice. it’s a very good ending. the epilogue-ish ending describes the impact of buck on the pack and how the timberwolves here don’t seem to be the same. it’s such a beautiful description and they try to replicate it in the movie but it will never be as good. 

[sylvanfreckles]

They Look So Pretty When They Bleed (Whumptober 2020)

AU of episode 15.09, “The Trap”. Separated in Purgatory, Castiel finds himself in the hands of the leviathan who have taken him captive for a sinister purpose, only to be rescued by an unlikely ally.

* * *

One of the leviathan, armed with a crude stone ax, broke the lines of the angel trap. Before Castiel could take advantage of his returning grace the others had tackled him, binding his wrists with coarse rope and hauling him away from the clearing. He tried to look back to see if Dean was safe but they surrounded him to propel him forward.

“The human's dead anyway,” one of the leviathan sneered in his ear. “He'll never make it to the exit. You should have just let us gut 'im.”

Castiel flinched away from the creature's glistening teeth. They didn't know about Michael's rift or they would have killed Dean on the spot rather than accept Castiel's bargain. He'd promised to submit and go peacefully to face whatever judgment Eve required, but in truth he was waiting for the best opportunity to break away. There had to be more leviathan blooms somewhere, and even with the dark influence of Purgatory pressing down around him an angel was more than a match for a dozen leviathan.

After perhaps ninety minutes of walking, during which time Castiel valiantly hoped Dean had woken up and started back for the rift rather than on some insane rescue, they broke through the forest into another clearing. This one had a broad stone altar in the center and a handful of torches scattered around.

“Where's Lud?” one of the leviathan called.

“He's on his way,” another answered. She had a coil of rope over her arm and was brushing leaves off of the altar to reveal a carved design. “Should we wait for the others?”

The leviathan holding Castiel's arm shook his head. “Can't risk the rebels finding out. As soon as Lud gets back we'll start the ceremony.”

Ceremony? “I thought you were taking me to see Eve,” Castiel said as the leviathan moved around him to prepared for a ritual. “This was not our agreement.”

“We are,” the leviathan holding him answered. “Samlah?”

“Ready,” the woman called back. She stepped away from the altar to reveal the intricate angel trap etched into its surface. “And Lud's here.”

Another one came jogging out of the trees, a roll of animal pelt under one arm. “We've only got three left, Tema” he said to the one holding Castiel.

“It's enough,” Tema replied. “Do it.”

The leviathan named Lud rolled out the animal pelt on the ground near the altar. It had an assortment of crude surgical tools made of rock and bone, some crumbled leaves from a plant Castiel didn't recognize, and three dirty syringes. As Castiel stared Lud rolled up one sleeve to plunge a syringe into the crook of his arm, drawing out vile black blood.

“Altar,” Tema snapped.

Castiel didn't wait to see what the leviathan had planned. He twisted away to break out of Tema's grip, snapping the weak bonds on his wrists as he did so. The leviathan roared in fury, its brothers answering its cry. They charged, wielding their rough weapons, faces morphing into nightmares.

They had taken his angel blade when they captured him, but Castiel met the assault head-on. He caught the wrist of the first attacker and twisted it back, slamming his knee into the elbow joint so the leviathan dropped the stone knife it had been carrying. He picked up the knife to block the next attack but a rock caught him in the shoulder and spun him off-balance so that the leviathan's club landed on his outstretched arm instead.

More rocks struck him across the back. Someone got hold of his arm and swung him around into another leviathan's fist. He reeled back and more hands grabbed him by the shoulders. Something slammed against his knees, making them buckle. His arms were pulled away from his sides, forcing his elbows and shoulders to lock so he couldn't pull away.

“Hurry,” Tema said, unruffled by the short fight. “We're too exposed here.

Lud was walking toward them, three syringes filled with blood in his hands. “Will this be enough?”

“It better be,” Tema replied. “Do it.”

The leviathan walked around behind Castiel. A hand tangled in his hair to force his head down, then the sharp pain of a needle pierced his neck. He might have screamed, except that the pain caused his body to lock up even down to his lungs.

Demon blood would burn an angel from the inside out.

Leviathan blood was primordial ice.

Castiel was barely aware of the hands hauling him to the altar as his body twisted in agony. They laid him out on the stone and tied his hands and feet down, and the moment he was within the angel trap his grace shut down and the leviathin blood tore into him. He couldn't get enough air in to make a sound, much less a feeble attempt to free himself.

Tema leaned over him, holding a small stone blade that looked like a crude scalpel. “You see, Mother isn't here. We returned to Purgatory but she was sent somewhere deeper.” He pressed the tip of the blade to the inside of Castiel's elbow and dragged it down, opening the skin so that blood flowed over the angel's arm and onto the altar. “Only a very special sacrifice will bring her back.”

Another leviathan cut into his other arm. The his inner thigh down to his knees, then the bottoms of his feet. The backs of his calves. The lowest ribs on each side. The blood pooled beneath his body, filling the lines of the angel trap.

Samlah was leaning over him, too, casually studying the bloodied knife in her hands. “I keep forgetting,” she mused.

“What?” Tema demanded.

“Angels really aren't much to look at,” she explained, face splitting into a nightmare grin. “But they sure are pretty when they bleed.”

Tema answered with a grin of his own. “Let's begin.”

A howl rent the dark forest around them. The leviathan leader swore and dropped his stone scalpel. “The rebels,” he hissed. “Spread out.”

There was a commotion at the edge of the clearing. The paralysis of the leviathan had worn off enough that Castiel could crane his neck to see what was happening, but there wasn't much more than the confused shadows of a fight. The howl had sounded like a werewolf, but he couldn't think why one of them would attack such a large group of leviathan.

Others were joining the battle now. He thought he saw a wolf bound into the clearing, shifting into a man in time to knock the blade out of a leviathan's hand. Someone leaped onto the altar, feet on either side of Castiel's body, and when they arched back to let out a scream of challenge he caught sight of their fangs.

Werewolves, skinwalkers, vampires...what could have brought them all together to challenge the leviathan?

A smaller, slight figure slipped out of the trees and dropped to her knees beside the altar. “Castiel?”

He stared at her, at the long brown hair and intense, dark eyes. “Lenore?”

The vampire smiled in relief. “Hold on, I'm gonna cut you free.” She grabbed the scalpel that Tema had dropped and sawed at the ropes that held Castiel's wrists and ankles. There was nothing she could do for his injuries, but if he could get off the angel trap then his grace might be able to purge the rest of theone of leviathan blood.

“Can you stand?” Lenore asked, leaning close to be heard over the din of battle.

“Angel trap,” Castiel shook his head. “We need to break one of the lines.”

Lenore studied the trap for a moment, then picked up a fallen rock from beside the altar. She brought it down on one edge of the trap, hammering at it over and over until one of the intersecting lines crumbled into itself.

His grace broke free with a howl, though it wasn't quite enough to restore his full strength. He rolled off the altar with Lenore's help, accepting her enhanced strength to stay upright. “We have to go,” she said, wrapping his arm around her slender shoulders. “The others will keep the leviathan distracted.”

Castiel focused on the vampire at his side as she lead him, stumbling, away from the light of the clearing into the woods. Questions swirled in his head, but he made himself focus on staying upright and following Lenore as she lead him deeper into the shadows of the trees.

“Where are we going?” he asked as they stumbled down a faint trail. The sound of battle was growing fainter, but they were still too close for Castiel's liking.

“I just have to get you away,” Lenore explained. “When he finds us he can explain.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask who 'he' was, but something crashed into them and sent them tumbling to the forest floor. Lenore was wrenched from Castiel's side and flung deeper into the trees, then Tema was picking Castiel up and slamming him against a nearby tree, a feral growl deep in his chest.

“Where do you think you're going?” he snarled.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” a deeper voice drawled from behind Tema. Before the leviathan had time to respond he was torn away from Castiel. The angel had a glimpse of a tall figure with broad shoulders throwing the leviathan to the ground, before Lenore managed to make it back to his side.

“Come on,” she urged, tugging him forward. She held him up when he stumbled and together they limped down the faint trail. “Benny's got this, we need to move.”

“Benny?” Castiel tried to look behind them but Lenore pulled on his arm.

“We have to go,” she insisted.

Cas?

“Dean?”

Cas, I hope you can hear me.

Dean was praying. Castiel grit his teeth and limped after Lenore, forcing his exhausted body to keep moving forward as his friend's words echoed in his mind. Words of pain and absolution, as cathartic for man as for angel. He focused on the words instead of his ailing body, until his legs collapsed as the last dregs of strength left him.

“Get back up, please, we're almost there,” Lenore urged.

Castiel let the vampire leaver him back up, but he was forced to lean most of his weight on her to stay standing. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the rift. One of our scouts found it, we followed your trail from there. Benny thought the leviathan might be trying something when they left your human friend behind to take you to their altar.”

“'Course I was right, hot wings,” Benny announced, shoving his way through the undergrowth to join them. “Summoning Mama from the underworld. Guess they thought it was poetic to use you.”

Castiel studied the vampire, too exhausted to be surprised at his presence. “They told us you were dead.”

Benny threw his head back and laughed. “Me? Darlin, there ain't a creature in here that would lay a hand on me except Mama's little bitches. They all know the Winchesters sent me here to run the place.”

“That's not what happened,” Castiel protested, brow furrowed.

Benny held a finger to his lips and winked. “Our little secret, Cas.”

“We should get moving,” Lenore interrupted. “Dean should reach the rift before long.”

“Wait,” Castiel pulled back when Benny stepped forward to support him. “I can't go back.”

“Not again, Cas,” Benny growled. “You know it almost killed Dean last time? You're goin' back with him if I have to chuck you through the rift with my bare hands.”

Castiel shook his head. “We came here for something. A leviathan blossom. I can't leave until I find one of those.”

The vampires exchanged a puzzled glance. “Why do you want one of those?” Lenore asked.

“We need it to stop God.”

Silence fell between the three of them, then Benny raised his hands and chuckled. “I'm not even gonna ask. Lenore, you get hot wings here to the rift, I'll go get him his little flower.”

With a final wave the big vampire trotted off, leaving Lenore to wrap one arm around Castiel's waist to support him as they made their way toward the rift.

“I never got the chance to apologize,” Castiel said after a few minutes had passed.

“To me?” Lenore shook her head. “For what?”

“For ending your life. I was caught up with the complications of my own deceptions and never considered another alternative. You would potentially have returned to yourself once we destroyed Eve.”

“Castiel, I had killed someone,” Lenore replied gently. “I was so sickened with myself for doing it, and it was even worse because I didn't want to stop. I was grateful, really. I died while I still had control of my mind, not when I was the monster I'd fought to be my whole life.

“And this place may not be heaven, but it's getting better. There's a group of us who look out for each other now. It's not the same constant struggle for survival it was before Benny returned.”

“Is he the king of Purgatory?”

Lenore gave a soft laugh. “Maybe someday,” she said as the soft glow of the rift came into sight.

“Cas?” Dean was there, next to the rift, phone in his hand. Castiel could see the timer still counting down, just a few minutes left until the rift would close. The hunter's eyes were wide, then he was striding across the clearing and pulling Castiel into an embrace.

It hurt—Dean was unintentionally putting pressure on the wounds in Castiel's sides—but he let himself soak in the warmth of his friend's arms. “Dammit, man, I didn't think you were gonna make it.”

“I wouldn't have without Lenore's assistance,” Castiel explained as Dean stepped back, maintaining a supportive hold on Castiel's arm.

“Who?” Dean glanced at the vampire, who was waiting a few paces away. His brow furrowed for a moment in concentration, then he straightened up. “Hey, aren't you...?”

Lenore tilted her head. “I wish it were under better circumstances, but it's good to see you again.”

“Yeah...” Dean nodded. “Thanks for...” he trailed off, jerking his head toward Castiel.

“You'd better hurry,” Lenore said. “I think you only have a few minutes.”

Castiel pulled back against Dean as the hunter turned for the rift. “What about Benny?”

“Benny?” Dean whipped back around. “He's alive?”

“He said he would try to find a leviathan blossom.”

Lenore shook her head. “I'm sorry, but I don't think that's possible. They just aren't very common, and most of them are heavily guarded by the leviathan themselves. I don't think he can find one and make it back in time.”

“Aw, where's your faith in me? You're breakin' my heart.” Benny leaped down from one of the trees above them, straightening up to his full height when he landed and holding a bright red blossom in front of Castiel with a teasing grin. “Your flower, sweetheart?”

Castiel rolled his eyes but accepted the blossom. “I am not your sweetheart,” he grumbled.

Benny winked at him and turned to Dean, pulling the hunter into a one-armed hug. “Good to see you, brother.”

“Benny, man,” Dean slapped the vampire on the back. “They said you were dead.”

“Can't believe you lost faith in me. Hot wings over there I can handle, but you, Dean? For shame.”

Dean managed a weak chuckle. “Hey, man, we could really use your help with what's going on.”

Castiel stiffened. While he had no grudge against the vampire, he wasn't sure it was such a good idea to invite him back to the living world. Especially with Lenore right there, with no way for her to crossover.

But Benny was already shaking his head. “Sorry, Dean. I got a lot of people back here who need me now.”

“Yeah,” Dean let out a sigh, hefting Castiel a little closer for support. “Well, you take care of yourself.”

Lenore had slipped up to Benny's side, and Castiel thought he saw her slide her hand into the bigger vampire's. “We'll catch you next time,” Benny said.

Dean held a hand up in farewell, then turned to help Castiel through the rift. “Crazy vamp,” he muttered. “How many times does he think we're gonna come back here?”

Judging by the peal of laughter from Benny just before the rift snapped shut, the vampire had heard them.

And, judging by the grin on Dean's face, that had been his intent.

[noonaduck]

Fangs pt.1

Pairing: little bit Jimin x reader, but main pairing will be Hoseok x reader, brother Yoongi Words: 2494 Genre: Vampire AU, Supernatural AU. Smut, Angst, Fluff(?) Summary: Vampire population was getting smaller with passing time and presence of hunters was turning to even bigger threat than it has ever been for your kind. One fateful night you expose your nature for a hunter by mistake and a cat and a mouse game begins. What you weren’t excepting was your growing feelings towards your predator. Are you prisoners of your natures or are you able to break free and find love?

 A/N: I wasn’t able to stop myself from writing when idea about this AU came to me. I’m still going to continue writing my other works as well.

1. > 2.

[Gifs belongs to their rightful owners]

You were spread on living room couches with your brother Yoongi and friend Jin. The room was covered with spider webs and you could see the dust dancing in the air. The house where you had taken refugee was a old cottage in middle of woods. Sun was risen earlier that you had thought and interrupted your hunt. It was quite risky to hunt for a prey when there was only few of your kind and so many hunters. What was your prey? Humans of course, and more specifically their blood. There was one rule that you three followed, never take enough blood to kill your victim. It had taken some centuries for you to be able to pull your fangs on time and you haven't been able to avoid few lost lives along the way. Now as a older vampires you were capable to stop on time, well at least most of the time. One thing that made hunters truly dangerous was that they couldn't be charmed. Charming was vampires ability, which helped you to erase your victims memory. If hunter was able to figure your identity all was lost. There was no other choice than keep moving, because usually vampires were so outnumbered compared to their kind. That was the main reason for your vagrant lifestyle, usually vampires lived in nests like they liked to call their hideouts. One fatal mistake from your side has forced you to leave your home and you had to keep moving forward. Both Yoongi's and Jin's clothes were wrinkled and yours weren't in that good shape either. Yoongi's black hair was messy and his jacket had teared from its hem. Jin's chocolate brown hair was still flawless despite his clothes condition. You had ear length H/C which was messy as your older brother's. ''I can't take this anymore. Next time we have to find place to shower and change clothes instead of a old cabin without running water or electricity.'' Jin complains and stand's up from his seat. He starts to space around in the small room. ''I agree.'' Yoongi grumbles. ''I would be happy even with a decent meal.'' You mumble quietly. You haven't fed in few nights and hunger was getting toll of you. ''well, its your fault that we had to leave our home behind.'' Jin says annoyed. You sift in your seat and Yoongi glares older man angrily. ''It's not her fault.'' He answers angrily and his dark eyes flashes red. ''I know, I'm sorry Y/N. I'm just hungry as you are.'' Jin apologizes. His stops his spacing in front of small window and peers out trough ripped curtains. The sun hurts his eyes and he blinks rapidly. You can see hunger clearly from his features and quilt eats your insides. Jin's skin is even paler than usually and you can see clearly his veins under his skin. His usually deep brown eyes are now closer to red than actual brown. Usually Jin is the most calm and rational of you three, but hunger can make even the most restrained vampire into irrational beast. Yoongi doesn't look so good either, his features mirroring Jin's. Yoongi is pale even among the vampires, but when he hasn't fed he seems more like a ghost than one of his kinds. Your skin feels tight and your fangs throbs from lack of human blood. Vampires are able to drink each other's blood but its useful as drinking a soda for humans. You get pleasure from it, but it wont calm your thirst like a water does for humans and a blood for vampires. Jin turns back towards the couches but stays still, now you are able to see more than his side profile. ''It's okay, I understand.'' You accept his words. ''No it's not. I was too harsh.'' Jin says and in one blink he is hugging you. Jin feels quilt in smallest things if he believe that he has hurt his friends. You answer for his hug and just for a while you keep hugging each other searching for comfort. When you finally part Jin sits next to you and you put your head on his shoulder. Your mind starts to wander to back that day when you had done your mistake which had leaded into your current situation.

*** You were on the hunt looking for your next meal. The club was full of people who either were drinking their worries away or dancing along the music. You were wearing tight black dress that kissed your curves and ended right above your knees. You had loose curls on your hair and you had painted your lips deep red. Your E/C eyes had smoky black lining . Despite Yoongi's and Jin's pleas you had left alone. Sometimes girl needed her own time. You were hanging by the bar and measuring the mass of people for your next prey. You had gone trough few people with your eyes until you finally saw someone who gained your interest. The man was sitting on nearby booth with his group of friends. He had bubblegum pink hair and beautiful face with chubby cheeks that you wanted to squeeze. He was wearing button up shirt with vertical blue stripes and black leather pants with zippers on both sides. When he laughed for something that his friend had said his eyes turned into half moons. You kept observing the table and tried to figure out which of mouth watering scents was his. ''Jimin, some one is staring at you.'' A Guy with dark brown hair nuzzled his friends shoulder. The brunet is wearing white t-shirt with ripped jeans. His muscles are clearly on sight for anyone to see. You can hear his words, you had accurate vampire hearing after all. The Jimin guy turned his head towards the direction where his friend was nudging and his eyes met yours. You flashed him a beautiful smile. ''Wow, she is hot.'' Another of his friends with blonde hair agreed. He was wearing dark blue suit jacket with black shirt under it. His legs were covered in grey denim. ''Go ahead and talk to her.'' He egged his friend. ''Tae, I think she is too good looking for me.'' Jimin said and you wanted to roll your eyes for his thoughts, but you suppress your urges. You stood up from your chair and walk towards their table while swaying your hips. ''Hi.'' You say and smile sweetly for the male, who's name you learned was Jimin. ''Hi.'' Jimin stuttered and you felt urge to smirk for his cute awkwardness. ''Hello, Im Taehyung. Would you like to join us?'' Blonde asked and flashed toothy smile. ''I would love to.'' You agreed and the boys made space in the booth so you were able to sit next to Jimin. ''I'm Jungkook.'' The brunet peeped in. You smiled kindly at him. As good looking Jimin's friends were you are more interested in your bubblegum boy. Jimin's scent was mix of vanilla and peaches. You couldn't wait to sink your teeth into his neck. ''I'm Y/N.'' You introduced yourself. ''So what pretty woman like you does here alone?'' Taehyung asked, he surely seems to be on lead or at least the most confident here. ''You know, sometimes a girl need her time alone away from her family.'' You said and shrugged. ''Would you like to have anything to drink?'' Jimin blurred when he sees your empty hands. All three of men were already drinking something and their glasses were already over the half way empty. ''No thanks, I prefer quite different drink than this place has offer.'' You put your hand on his shoulder and leaned closer. ''Perhaps you can help me with my thirst later.'' You whispered huskily to his ear. Jimin's neck hair stood up when your lips touched his ear lope. His face turned instantly red and his friends smirked on his misery. ''Sorry that I'm late. I wasn't able to leave my work as early as I hoped.'' A new man said while slipping in the booth. The newcomer has tall lean figure with well formed muscles. His hair was colored like honey and his nose was tall and straight. He also had sharp cheekbones and little bit crooked dark brown eyes which fitted his features. He was maybe even more good looking than your target, but you had made your choice for the night. Top of his head was a white cap and silver earring tangled from his left ear. He was wearing red long sleeved shirt with v- neckline and pants which was ripped from his knees. ''Hoseok, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Hoseok.'' Jimin hurried to introduce you. ''Its nice to meet you Y/N.'' Hoseok said and by your surprise offered his hand. You gave him yours and that was your first mistake of the night. ''Likewise.'' You agreed. Hoseok froze for a moment, but then lets go quickly of your hand. ''Your hand seemed to be little bit cold, are you okay?'' He asked and tilted his head with wonder. ''Ah, I have usually really cold hands.'' You told awkwardly. The fact that you weren't quite alive might explain the cold skin. ''I see.'' Hoseok mumbled to himself. ''Well Y/N, What do you do for a living? Are you perhaps a student or do you have a job?'' Jungkook tried to break the awkward mood. ''I'm part of my family business. My brother runs a medical company that supplies hospitals with blood and medical supplies.'' You told. Lies or maybe not entirely, you were indeed interacting with blood. ''Sounds interesting. I work as a photographer and Tae is a painter.'' Jungkook told. ''Jimin here is a dancer. You should see his moves sometime.'' He grinned and winked at you. You let small giggle and Jimin sifted awkwardly on his seat. ''I would love to. Hoseok was it? What do you do for a living?'' You asked and turned your curious eyes towards him. ''Nothing interesting, just some office work.'' He shrugged. You kept chatting with the guys about everything and nothing. They all seemed easy to get along. All except Hoseok who was lost on his own thoughts. He excused himself and headed to the bar. You have been teasing Jimin for all night. Sometimes you leaned closer to him showing more from your cleavage than necessary and sometimes your fingers kept sliding along his thighs. His friends were oblivious to your ministrations, but Jimin's heart kept beating faster and faint scent of arousal, that only a person with sensitive nose could smell, was leaping in the air. Taehyung and Jungkook were getting tipsy and bickered over meaningless stuff. Jimin wasn't exactly sober either. ''Do you want to dance? I would like to see some moves of yours?'' You asked ans squeezed his thigh. Jimin nodded fast for agreement and you headed towards the dance floor right when Hoseok returns to the table. You danced along few songs and indeed you can see that Jimin was a experienced dancer. His hips swayed along the beat naturally. Fast paced song turned into slow one and you put your hands around his neck and pulled him closer. He hesitantly took grip of your hips and swayed slowly with you. You grinned his crotch and you could clearly feel when he was turning hard in his pants. How about we go somewhere more private?'' You suggested and Jimin was instantly open for the idea. You navigated along the mass of people towards the bathrooms and went straight to empty bathroom past the line of people who were waiting for their turn. You heard some complains but you gave them so scary look that the line went quiet instantly. You push Jimin to bathroom door and lock the door with another hand. Jimin is at your mercy when you begin to suck his neck. You leave wet hickey on the spot and Jimin's arousal was turning more visible by the minute. You wasn't going to lie, you felt little damp spot forming in your underwear. Jimin pulled you closer from your butt and squeezed it gently. ''I'm rarely this bold.'' Jimin admitted panting. ''It's okay. I got you.'' You said and lean for a kiss. You bit his plumb lower lip and his mouth opened with small whimper. You slipped your tongue in and explored his mouth. You part panting for air. Air wasn't absolutely necessary for you but breathing was a habit that was hard to give up. A little bit of saliva was connecting your mouths together and you both grinned for it. Jimin swept it away and you returned kissing his neck. This time you were ready to draw blood. You bit gently his arched neck and small moan left Jimin's lips. You felt your fangs to grow longer and fast like a snake you pierced his pulsing neck. His blood poured into you mouth and it was your time to moan. ''What are you doing? Let me go!'' Jimin tried move away with panic. You tightened your grip when Jimin tried to thrash away. Even if he didn't want to the pain turned soon into pleasure and he moaned against his own will. In vampires spit was ingredients which caused pleasure for the victim when it entered into their blood steam. You were turning more energized when the blood poured into your mouth. The hot liquid calmed burning of your throat. You heard loud banging behind the door but decided ignore it in your foggy state. That was your second and last mistake.  You pulled your tooth gently out and licked Jimin's wound closed. The door burst open and you and Jimin were pushed backwards. Worried looking Hoseok steps in and froze on the spot when he saw what was waiting for him. Your fangs were still long and pointed out, you had blood on your lips and scared Jimin with wide eyes were shaking on the floor. Hoseok's face turns into mask of anger and disgust. ''So I was right after all. You were a vampire.'' He growled and stepped towards you. His eyes were flaming and his hands were in tight fists. You felt fear crawling up to your sides. Even if you were a vampire his demeanor scared you. Usually people were afraid when they discovered one of your kind and Hoseok's reaction was far form normal. ''Ho-hobi.'' Jimin says weakly on the floor where he has fallen from impact that was caused by doors opening. Hoseok sifted his gaze quickly to his friend and you saw you chance. You sprinted out of the bathroom fast as you could without caring who could see you. You didn't stop until you reached safety of your home. You slammed your front door open which cases both Yoongi and Jin to hurry to you alarmed by the door slamming on the wall. ''Whats wrong?'' Yoongi asked and measured you worriedly. He was afraid that you were hurt is someway when he looks your upset form. ''I think, I think that I was discovered by a hunter.'' You said shakily. Jin's and Yoongi's faces turned into masks of horror.