#descendants gift exhange

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Truth or Dare

For @isleofdarkness; @descendantsgiftexchange

I hope you enjoy! Oh, and I’ll add AO3 version & link to it in near future! (Anyway, the main ship should be Harriet/Ginny/Anthony/Diego. They are playing truth or dare and everyone is being a menace.)

„So let me get this straight,“ Jay says, casually leaning back against the wall, „Your cousin has a date with Harriet Hook, Ginny Gothel and Anthony Tremaine, and you want to spy on them?“

Well, when you put it like this… Then it doesn’t sound as great as it did in Carlos’s mind.

He gulps and answers: „Yes.“

„And you want me to go with you?“

„Yes.“

„To go spy on a bunch of people, at least three of which could kill me in pretty creative ways?“

„…Yeah?“ 

…No one is killing anyone, are they?

Carlos would like to think that, at least.

Carlos is a pretty good liar.

Jay’s face breaks into a grin: „Are you kidding me, man? Of course I’m in! I live for the thrill!“

„And you have a few bets going on by Sammy Smee,“ adds Jade from where she was listening in, because of course she was listening in.

„…Yeah, and that,“ admits Jay carelessly, „When do we start?“

Carlos breathes in to answer, but Jade cuts him off before he can speak.

„Right now!“ she calls out and leaps off the roof, Jay only a blink of an eye behind her, and, wait, why is Jade going with them?!

Oh, who is he kidding.

Of course Jade is going with them.

In her opinion, there isn‘t any better use of her time than watching drama unfold. Relationship drama, bar fights, gang wars… She doesn’t care, really.

So Carlos sights and sets out after the two cousins: Diego’s date is just starting, after all.

…………..

The bottle spins and spins on the croaked floor, four people gathered around it and sitting on the floor without as much as a cushion. But hey, who cares? 

Discomfort is temporary, as is life, after all.

A hand reaches in the middle of the small circle (...square?) and flickers towards the flask, as if to stop it. Two other voices cry out against it.

It spins and gleams as it catches the light, capturing Harriet Hooks’s attention in turn. Which could be a shame, since there is plenty to look at in this room, really, but. It’s shiny. 

Harriet is a pirate and she could never resist the gleam. Besides, it’s starting to slow down:

Lazy anticipation builds up as the flask makes its last, agonisingly slow turns.

The bottleneck points to Ginny, the bottom to Diego, who leans back contendly and flashes his teeth in a semblance of a smile.

„Sunflower,“ he starts, and Harriet leans a bit forward in anticipation, ignoring Anthony’s soft chuckle, „Truth or dare?“

„Dare.“

Oh, this is gonna be good–

„Strip down to your bra.“

And indeed, the witch strips down with no hesitance or shame, only to immediately throw the blouse at Diego’s face. 

„Fuck you, de Vil,“ she complains, „It is cold out there!“

„Is it now?“ Diego grins wider „I find it is rather hot in there.“

Well, that was smooth, Harriet will leave him that. Besides, she can’t say she disagrees. 

And by the way Anthony winks at the other boy, she’d say he doesn’t disagree either.

She cackles at Ginny’s dark glare, and stills only when she reaches out to spin the bottle again. Harriet must say she doesn’t pay her full attention to the old battered flask this time, though maybe she should have, as the bottleneck lands on her this time, and before she can even blink, her girlfriend (if such thing can exist on the Isle), asks her „truth or dare.“

„Dare,“ she chooses.

„Great!“ a wicked smile plays on the witch’s lips as she requests for Harriet to hand her her cloak. Her red pirate cloak, would you believe it?!

„Fuck you, Diego,“ Harriet mutters and shots him a dirty look as she takes off the cloak and hands it to Ginny. The only person amused by this point is Anthony, that bastard, and Harriet dearly hopes that the next dare will fall on him. (she doesn’t think he’d actually chose truth, but hey, stuff  happens.)

It is her turn to spin the bottle.

Anthony to Diego, it lands, and hey, fair enough. She winks  at Ginny and Ginny winks back and giggles when Diego, too, chooses dare.

„I dare you to sing for us, right now.“

Anthony is always so nice with his dares, isn‘t he? So considerate. Making sure everyone will have fun with his dare.

„It would be my pleasure,“ Diego grins, climbing up to his feet. He uses Anrhony’s head as an armrest and ruffles his hair in the process: Anthony’s hands fly up to his carefully styled hairdo, and Harriet smirks a bit at his scandalised expression. She just loves it when he gets like this.

Then she leans back, and the sun shining through the half-closed blinds momentarily blinds her. She shifts, watching the light dance at the dust and reflect at Diego's white-black hair. (the de Vil hair.)

(Did she catch a glimpse of black-and-white through the window, or is it just a trick of light?)

And sweet heavens, does that boy have a voice. Harriet is sure that sirens would be jealous – at least the sorry things that remain of them at the port today.

In Harriet’s opinion, the song is altogether too short. She considers it the only fault of this little show, apart from the fact that Ginny still has her cloak, but let‘s not dwell on unimportant details, shall we?

Diego stops singing, bows down and spins the bottle in one smooth motion. Multitasking.

Harriet would give him a proper rumble for that, but that would require her to stand up: She settles for hitting her palm against the floor, while Ginny whistles and Anthony actually claps. Of course he does, poser.

As if Diego needed any more encouragement.

He bows again, and the bottle stops, pointing from him to Harriet, and Harriet can‘t quite decide how she feels about that wicked gleam in his eye. Judging by the direction of his stare, though…

„Dare,“ she states before he can ask, „Do be original, though, please.“

He pouts at her.

Ginny bursts out laughing: „He will need to think about a new dare, then!“ and „Boys only think at that one thing–“

„Excuse me?“ (That was Anthony, if you couldn’t tell.)

„Oh, shut up, Sunflower,“ blushing Diego, „As if you are any better.“

Now it’s Ginny’s turn to sputter out an appalled „Excuse me?!“, though a bit more aggressive than Anthony’s was.

„Aww, come on…“ she fake-pouts at her partners before they get into a full-on shouting match or a make-out session, and, right… Why is she interrupting them again?

„I don’t have the whole day, you know?“ she stretches a bit.

As if any of them had the whole day.

„Aww, bossy, aren’t we?“ coos Diego – who is still standing – and reaches out to ruffle her hair. Her hair. She playfully snaps at his fingers.

„Get on it, de Vil boy.“

„Can’t rush perfection, Captain Hook–“

Yeah, so, she has decided that she definitely doesn’t like that look in his eyes.

(„He has a point,“ states Anthony elegantly raising his palm up as if at some high-order meeting, for which Ginny proceeds to whacks him over the head with her blouse. Look how much useful that can be.)

„I dare you to exchange your jewelry with me right now and actually wear it for the rest of the week.“

Okay, that‘s not that bad…

Although you know what? No.

The things he calls jewelry are totally going to shatter her aesthetic! He wears a spiked collar around his neck, for heaven’s sake! And a cross earring – only one! Harriet is not wearing that!

„First of all, no!“ she protests, „Second of all, it’s literally only Tuesday!“

She shots a dirty look to Ginny, bundled up in her coat.

„Dare is a dare, Ettie,“ the witch laughs, while Anthony only nods.

„And don’t call me Ettie!“

Diego makes a „pay up“ gesture, and Harriet clutches her hand – fine, mainly the gold rings on her fingers – to her chest.

„Give that here, Ettie,“ Diego says, and so Harriet, in the spirit of the game, complies, cursing Diego all the way to hell and back.

„Good–“ Diego mutters, turning back to get into his spot, his hands full of Harriet’s treasures. Traitor, turncoat, backstabber–

Ginny bolts up and stands in front of him before he can even sit down.

„Gimme!“ she says, pointing at Harriet’s (!) rings.

Diego shrugs his shoulders and tells her to „pick whichever you like, Sunflower.“

…At least he couldn’t actually put it on her finger, what with his hands full. Small mercies.

On the other hand, he does casually drop another ring to Anthony, who immediately puts it on his own finger and admires how it fits and gleams.

Harriet barely contains the urge to irritably growl at her insufferable partners.

Anthony reaches out to caress her cheek, and Harriet leans into the touch, entirely against her will, of course. And don’t you dare suggest otherwise.

She can feel the cold metal of her ring against her skin.

„Take it easy, Harriet,“ he tells her, „It’s your turn to spin now.“

Harriet jerks back.

„Of course, of course–“ And with a flick of her wrist, the flask is spinning again.

Harriet struggles to pay attention to it, and Anthony even has to nudge her when it stops. Ginny to Diego.

Harriet lets her mind wander for a moment, and, really, why does she keep seeing black-and-white-and-red out of the window? 

And faint traces of gold? That’s always suspicious on the Isle– 

Oh, well, anyway.

There is a game going on, more interesting matters to focus on, you know? 

…Besides, Ginny has been poking her into the shoulder for quite some time, hadn’t she.

Harriet makes a face at her: Ginny blows her a kiss, which makes Harriet laugh. 

They play again, laughing, and leaning closer to each other as time goes on.

No one has chosen truth yet.

And she certainly won’t be the first to do so: she choses dare again and has to try and throw her dagger at a specific eye in the wood – now, you see, this is her kind of dare. She bows her head towards Ginny before she throws; she only hopes she won’t accidentally tear down this whole shackle.

She misses, but only by an inch or so, and that would be because she didn’t bother to actually stand up or aim. And anyone who says otherwise is a dirty liar.

It’s her turn to spin again.

The bottle lands on her and Anthony: he sights dramatically while she grins in a manner that some might describe as a bit maniacal. She doesn’t care for other people, though.

Now, she should have it here somewhere–

Anthony watches her fumble through her pockets with increasing worry.

Yes! Here it is!

Oh. Wait. She forgot to ask „Truth or dare,“ and he won’t chose dare if he knows what she has planned. So she asks now, and to her eternal delight, he agrees to a dare.

Victoriously, she pull out a flask, you know, that thin flat thing designed to be carrier on person?

Yeah, that one.

She unscrews the lid.

„Drink this,“ she dares Anthony Tremaine.

He reluctantly takes the flask, brushing his fingers against hers, and carefully sniffles the contents.

His nose wrinkles up in a manner that Harriet consciously chooses not to describe as „cute“ as he makes a long face at her.

„What is this? And where did you even get it?“

„Out and around,“ shrugs Harriet, „Some fancy drink I found in the barges.“

(It’s actually vodka mixed with an expired energy drink, a cocktail that has been keeping her up the last few days, but she isn’t gonna tell him that. She doesn’t fancy a lecture about her drinking habits and lifestyle right now.)

„I’m not drinking this,“ he states, „Absolutely not. And even if I did, I’d probably be risking a visit to the hospital.“

„Untrue. I drink that. And I’m fine.“

„…That has zero reporting value, Harriet.“ (Again, untrue.)

Harriet struggles to come up with an answer that isn’t just a string of vulgarities, while Diego leans over to sniff the flask himself and Ginny pouts at Anthony.

„What’s wrong with the hospital?“ she complains, „I work here!“

„Yeah, but that still doesn’t mean I want to visit it as a patient, darling.“

„…Not even if I put on my sexy nurse costume?“ Ginny asks, and Harriet almost chokes, trying to contain her fit of giggles, which would be unbecoming.

„Why do you even have a sexy nurse costume?“ Anthony asks weakly.

„Why, me and Harriet found it in a barge one time–“ Yeah, no, Harriet doesn’t think it’s necessary to elaborate on that. And yes, she’d also like to know why on Earth do Auradonians have such a thing as a „sexy nurse costume.“

Diego takes a sip of her spiked energy drink (alright, more like alcohol spiked with the energy drink, but who is counting?) and passes it back to Anthony.

„You’ll be fine, man,“ he says, „And you need no costume, Ginny.“

„Seconded.“ Because honestly, that thing is ridiculous. Impractical, too.

And it has print-on pockets.

Harriet would almost say that the creator of print-on pockets deserves the Isle, but even she isn’t that cruel.

Anthony wrinkles his nose once again and drinks, choking and coughing immediately after.

Something flickers behind the window, red-and-black-and-white, stealing her attention away from this frankly amusing sight.

She locks eyes with Carlos de Vil.

…………..

Carlos can only stand Harriet’s gaze for a fraction of second: He then breaks eye contact with a curse his mother would probably skin him alive for.

„Shit,“ he curses again, then he calls out at Jay, „Man, she saw me! What do I do?“

Jade breaks into cackles at that, which is decidedly not helpful at all, thank you for asking. Jay smirks too, casually standing up: „I suggest you run real fast,“ he says, „And pray that your cousin won’t let them kill you.“

With that, the Agrabah cousins take off, not bothering to climb off the roof; Carlos wastes few precious seconds wondering whether he should really try out their neck breaking path, and before he decides, well, it’s already too late.

The doors fly open and out marches one Harriet Hook, this time without her signature red coat.

Carlos decides that he isn‘t gonna test the nerves of his cousin and the other three any more today and bolts away.

„Wait for me!“ he calls towards Jay. 

Wild laughter is his only answer.

…………

There are two more people watching the commotion, up on the roof few building off where they had just ducked behind the chimney. Two pirates in red coats, just like the one their older sister just temporarily lost in a bet.

„We’re not gonna help them, are we,“ more states than asks Calista Jane.

„Absolutely not,“ answers Harry, „Uma would have my throat if Ettie caught me,“ he adds, his voice half-a-whisper, and CJ giggles.

„Hey! I have stuff to do, you know?“

„Yeah, sure. Like making eyes at Uma–“

„Like doing rounds and keeping watch,you insufferable scallywag,“ he riggs her in the ribs, „Besides, we need to find a camera: Did you see what Ettie was wearing?“ He vaguely gestures towards their sister, then to his neck. CJ’s eyes light up with unearthly light.

„I know just who might have such a camera,“ she declares, and Harry rubs his hands and his hook together:

„Set course, then, sister dear.“

They are going to have so much fun with these photos yet.

[quokkacore]

son of wolves I [park chanyeol & byun baekhyun]

for @imsoba​, who asked for an angsty, fluffy enemies to lovers au. merry christmas from your secret santa! written for the @exolssecretsanta​ gift exhange.

summary:  your entire life, you've fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you're infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it's in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you've so grown to resent. it's here that you begin to question everything you've ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, slow burn, war au, wolf!au

warnings for this chapter: violence, animal attacks, mild descriptions of gore, mild body horror(?), can you tell i did my best to avoid calling them tentacles but there are only so many times i can use the words “coils” and “tendrils”, language, subtle emotional manipulation, reader feels VERY violent urges but they’re not too descriptive, hypothermia maybe?, intentional starvation for purposes of wilderness survival, chanyeol is kind of aggressive and intimidating, SO MUCH worldbuilding im srry, VERY precarious (and probably inaccurate) medical procedures performed by the reader, chanyeol is a slob but hes literally feral so??

song recs: ateez - hala hala // stevie nicks - rooms on fire // the weeknd - until i bleed out // joe hisaishi - departure (to the west) // howard shore & billy boyd - the sacrifice of faramir + to the edge of night // jorja smith - i am 

word count: 11.5k

a/n: first of all, i want to apologize a little bit to the person this was meant for. i meant to write this in two parts, but due to external factors, i’m going to have to split it into three. i hope you like it <3 second of all, i think i strayed a bit from the original source material, but i hope u guys can enjoy it regardless!! merry christmas to everyone, this is a gift to my followers as well. 

main masterlist  // story masterlist

chapter one: the bite

It was supposed to be a routine patrol just outside the perimeter of Ironbend. You hadn’t been expecting the beasts and the rider to ambush the two of you in such a way. One moment you and Baekhyun were eyeing the treeline, the next the wolves were running up on you, and your reindeers were taking off, attempting to lead them away from the village. 

“Get the others!” Baekhyun called to you, running between the trees, “I’ll lead them away from the wall!”

You nodded, directing the reindeer to veer away from the chase. You looked back, eyeing Baekhyun warily before he and his reindeer disappeared further into the trees, the sound of howling getting further and further away. 

But the sound of large paws against the forest floor did not. Knowing what was coming, you turned, aiming the arrow you’d nocked earlier in your bow, and met eyes with the beast that had been chasing you. 

Immediately, you knew that this beast was different. Its running pattern was erratic, as if it were tired but still euphoric, and you could see a wound on its neck, staining its fur a dark color. Not red, but almost black. You let the arrow fly at it, grazing its side, but it didn’t growl. Its sneer grew bigger, but no growl or snarl left its mouth. You faced frontwards again, watching as you came closer to the treeline, the wall of Ironbend coming into view. 

“THE WOLVES!” You shouted towards the men on the parapets, standing guard, “GET THE RIDERS, THE WOLVES ARE—!”

The bite came both expectedly and unexpectedly, the wolf pouncing on you and knocking you off of your reindeer. You tumbled onto the ground, pinned down by the white wolf, feral and mad. The way your head fell against the ground, plus the cold snow left you disoriented and dizzy. Expectedly and unexpectedly, because in a fight like this, you always expect there to be injuries, maybe even casualties. But deep down, on a subconscious level, you never really expect it to be you. 

Humans cling to hope, and sometimes end up having it pried from their cold, dead hands. No matter how hopeless things become, everyone always has a “maybe”, or a “what if”. And today, your “maybe” had turned sour. Out of nowhere, the white beast had locked its maw around your arm, and was thrashing you back and forth. You could feel an intense pain in your arm as its teeth broke your skin and attempted to rip off your limb. In your disorientation, you began to panic, your other arm trying to beat the animal off of you. You pulled at its fur, and threw punches, but what seemed to distract it enough was when you tugged at the wound, and managed to stick a few fingers inside, gripping whatever was in the wound.

The beast reared back as it let out a pained cry and then a ferocious snarl. You managed to scoot back at least a little bit, putting some distance between you and the wolf, and grabbed the bow, which you had dropped as you fell.

Blood was dripping down your marred arm, and in those seconds that seemed to pass like an eternity, you realized that the wolf’s saliva was, for some reason, a thick, semi translucent black color. 

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die. 

The scent of the beast’s rancid blood pierced your nose and the sound of other men shouting were the sensations you could feel around you, but not before you felt something inside of you, a deep, masculine voice echoing in your head.

Your hate infected me, the voice growled, now my hate will infect you, and you will die the same way I will: slowly, painfully and overtaken by rage.

Then the voice was ripped from your head, the same way the beast was ripped away from you as the other riders came to your rescue. You were picked up by one of them, thrown onto his reindeer behind him, and you gripped on tightly to his shirt with your uninjured arm as he turned his reindeer sharply to follow after the wolf, which was most likely returning to its pack, towards the sounds of shouting, howling, and gunshots.

“Are you okay?” He asked loudly, and you recognized the voice instantly. 

“I think so,” You answered Jongdae over the wind, “I’m hurt pretty badly, but nothing Yixing can’t fix.”

With some difficulty, huffing in pain as you did so, you reached for another arrow, nocking it into your bow in preparation to let it fly at another wolf. Jongdae’s reindeer followed the wolf in its tracks, and stopped when you ran through the trees and stumbled across the fight. The wolves were incessant in their snarling and attempts to trample the riders and their reindeers, but your eyes ignored them despite the chaos, falling to Baekhyun, who was now off of his reindeer, his sword pulled out, dodging the rider’s dagger. You could see the anger on Baekhyun’s face, his chest heaving.

You couldn’t see the rider’s face. You never could whenever they attacked. All you knew was that he was significantly taller than Baekhyun, and that his hands were tanned and littered with scars. His face was covered by a red mask, back covered by the pelt of a white wolf, neck accented by a necklace of sharp teeth from different animals. His simple clothes were black, hiding the rest of his body. The man moved aggressively, grunting as he played the offense, repeatedly trying to stab your lover. 

You sneered and let your arrow fly, catching him right in his right shoulder blade, piercing through his clothes. The man stopped, groaning in pain, back arching in pain. He was barely able to dodge Baekhyun, who had taken the hit as an opening for him to strike with his sword. The rider stepped back, letting out a loud whistle before getting onto the largest wolf. He whistled again, and the other wolves began to retreat, dodging the large metal bullets that rained down on them from the guns of the other soldiers.

When the silence settled, Baekhyun’s eyes settled on you, and then he was running towards you and Jongdae, eyes flashing in alarm as he saw the mangled flesh of your arm. 

“What happened to you?” He asked, voice loud and concerned. 

“The wolf that came after me knocked me off my reindeer,” You replied, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the adrenaline began to wear off, “Bit me pretty bad.”

He looked up at you, then to Jongdae.

“Get her to Yixing. Now.”

“The bite left her cursed.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the council of leaders, and you felt your eyes flutter shut at Yixing’s tone. Normally soft and gentle, now his tone was loud as he spoke to the ten members of the council, and you could tell he was angry.

“What do you mean cursed?” Your father, head of the council, asked. 

“The beast was infected with hatred,” The healer explained, “Hatred of that kind stems from war and festers in ways we mortals cannot comprehend. As he’s a demigod, one of the sons of Selyne, it will most likely turn him into a demon.” 

“One of our finest female warriors cursed by a descendant of that wretched she-wolf,” The head of war huffed, her eyes settled on the bandages of your injured arm. “How will the curse work on Y/N?”

“It will manifest as dark magic.” Yixing’s voice was low, and you felt Baekhyun’s hand tighten around your own uninjured one. “It will harm her and those around her when it does, and it will slowly spread through her body. It will kill her when it reaches her heart, or her brain—whichever it reaches first.”

You looked up. “But there has to be a cure,” You quipped, “I can’t die. I refuse to.”

“Y/N.” Yixing’s eyes were sympathetic. “There isn’t. I hate to say this to you, but this is a death sentence. By my estimates you have at best, a month and a half.”

“Can we at least slow it down, hyung?” Baekhyun asked, voice pained. Your eyes squeezed shut at the slight desperation in his voice. “Make it less painful?” “Make it less painful, maybe. Slow it down… I don’t think I can, Baek. I’m sorry.”

You watched him nod, jaw clenching, the hand atop yours clenching slightly. “There has to be something,” You insisted. “What about the story of the wounded warrior—”

“Y/N, that’s a myth.” Your father’s tone was both sympathetic at your insistence, but also angered by your refusal to accept the truth. “And besides, that myth originated centuries ago, before we took hold of our destinies and left The Spearwood to build Ironbend.”

“Do you really think the Pillars of the Forest—do you think Emyr, the proud fool that he is, would heal you as he did the wounded warrior, after three centuries of war against his kingdom? After all of the weapons we’ve created, all the soldiers of his we’ve gotten rid of, ”

“Emyr asked the warrior for a sacrifice, then. I could negotiate something with him, and—”

“And what? What if he asks to give up our weapons, to leave The Spearwood be after everything it’s done to us, so that we may be overrun? Y/N, you may be one of our finest warriors, and you may be my daughter, but I refuse to sacrifice one life over all of Ironbend.”

“Send me on my own, then, papa, but I can’t just—”

“Enough.” His tone was final, and you inhaled sharply as you attempted to control the shaking in your arms. 

“You will stay here. And I promise we will do our best to make the rest of your life something for you to look fondly upon when you pass.”

“It’s bullshit,” You growled, blinking back tears as you sat on the bed in the cabin you shared with Baekhyun. “There’s a perfectly good possibility and they won’t even let me try.”

“Y/N, my love,” Baekhyun whispered, coming to kneel between your legs so he could cup your face, “It’s a suicide mission. Going into The Spearwood, of all places, in the dead of winter, to find those four gods and ask them to heal one of their enemies, I… you have to admit, it doesn’t sound logical. If the cold doesn’t kill you, then Selyne and her children certainly will.”

His hand came to rub at your cheek, nose nuzzling against yours, and you knew he was right. 

In the beginning, when man was just another animal, the ancestors of Ironbend lived in The Spearwood, ruled over by the four Pillars of the Forest: Selyne, the wolf goddess, warden of the forest, Beval, the eagle god, keeper of the weather, Mirren, the bear goddess, guardian of families, and Emyr, the deer god, king of the gods, and ruler of the forest. Over time, humans became smarter: they realized they could build things with their hands that animals could not, and they grew proud enough to rally together and leave The Spearwood and the kingdom of the gods to build something permanent: Ironbend. 

The forest exodus triggered a seemingly endless war, which had been going on for over three hundred years. For three hundred years, your ancestors had attempted to destroy the gods’ uncivilized way of life, to end Emyr’s tyranny and extend Ironbend across all of the Spearwood, so that it would finally be gone.

If the gods were as ruthless as they said, Emyr would never heal you when you were a part of the threat to their archaic way of life.

“Baek, I…” You whispered shakily, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t die like this. I-I can’t. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. W-we were supposed to get married, and we were going to lead the council, and have children, and raise them to end the war, and then… Baekhyun, do you really want to give that up?”

“You think I want to give that up?” Baekhyun snapped, leaning away from you. “What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it? I—” 

He caught himself when he saw the tears streaming down your face, and your injured arm shaking. You couldn’t explain the despair, the anger that washed over you, but you could see the injured skin warping and growing beneath the bandages. You felt the bandages tighten against your skin as it grew, and you grasped your injured forearm with your other hand to hold it back, because all you felt was the urge to hurt, and you wouldn’t live with yourself if you ended up hurting Baekhyun, the man who made you laugh and feel emotions you had never felt before, who had persisted to push himself up the class ladder because he wanted to be with you and help those around him. 

Not him, not your Baek.

He stepped back cautiously as you took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden black liquid oozing slowly out from underneath the bandages, staining them dark and dirty. You began to count, and counted for an eternity, only stopping at 136 before you felt the urge dissipate, burrowing back beneath the skin it had attempted to break free from.

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun’s tone was cautious, and you opened your eyes to find that he was eyeing your arm warily. You nodded. “Better. I just… need to remain calm.” 

He groaned and ran a hand over his face before pushing his hair back. “Shit, my love, I… I would march into that forest right now if I knew for sure that it would save you. But the truth of the matter is I don’t know, and neither do you, and chances are that it wouldn’t. No one has seen Emyr in a hundred years, and even if he showed himself to you, he would likely have you executed for treason.” 

When you didn’t respond, his hands fell to yours, bringing them to his chest. You spread out your fingers, feeling the fabric of his cream drawstring shirt and the firm muscle beneath it.

Your eyes fell on the pendant he’d always worn: a small opal on a gold chain, which had been his father’s. Noticing your gaze, he reached behind his neck, unclasping it and placing it around your neck.

 His eyes were desperate, voice breathless and slightly panicky. “Stay here, with me, Y/N. Where it’s warm, and y-you’re surrounded by people who love you, and we can be happy before you die. We can rush the wedding, I don’t care if it’s a big affair or not. If it means you spend the rest of your life with me, it would make me the happiest man in the world, and I promise I would make you feel loved until the end of your days.”

Your forehead fell against his, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m already on my knees, my love. Please don’t make me beg any further.”

“Baek…” You whispered, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “Hold me, please.”

He nodded, quickly making his way onto the bed, ready to console you, not despite what just happened but in spite of it—he knew you were just as frightened as he was, because he knew you like the back of his hand. The argument was forgotten, and suddenly you were resting on Baekhyun’s chest, listening to him hum a lullaby to you. You let your tears stain his shirt, and he pressed kisses to your hair between beats, until the soft melody lulled you to sleep, dreaming of nothing, basking in the warmth of the arms of your betrothed.

When you awoke, you found that Baekhyun had blown out the candle on your nightstand, because your room was now dark. He was asleep beneath you,  snoring softly. He looked so relaxed now that he was resting. During most of the day, his face was pulled into a grim frown, as the council met to discuss serious strategies and the needs of the people of Ironbend.

He hadn't always been that way. Even now, occasionally bits and pieces of who he was when you had first fallen in love—the brightest, funniest boy you had ever met—shone through. He could still make you and your friends laugh until your stomachs ached, but now that you were all adults, and it was time to take the war from your parents' hands, all of you had grown more serious, and pushed aside the time to simply enjoy life and each other.

You were 11 when you met Baekhyun, himself 13. You met at the training academy in the town, meant to teach children the basics: how to read and do math, the history of Ironbend and the war, . He had been a year older, and wont to make everyone laugh. 

He helped you with your sword fighting skills, and in return, you helped him with his archery skills. A steady friendship bloomed, despite the fact that you were the head councilman's daughter, and Baekhyun was the child of a woman who ran away when he was a baby to be with her lover, and the town drunk. Baekhyun was crafty, however, and as he grew into a young man, he used his wits, natural charm and skill to climb the ranks. 

It also helped that he invented the first prototype for the shoulder guns.

He had always been good at making things, and his prototype for the shoulder guns, small cannons loaded with large iron bullets made from the metal extracted in the mines, were what began to give the town an upper hand against the ambushes the creatures of the forests made. And for him, it was what landed him in junior council, along with all of his other abilities.

You thought of Baekhyun, and the look in his eyes when the curse kicked in. The quake in his voice when he begged you to stay. How much it was hurting him to see you like this, to know you would die. Your hand drifted to the necklace he had placed around your neck, a silent promise.  

What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it?

Except there was a thing to do about it. 

The wounded warrior was a story your grandmother had told you as a child—everyone knew the story as a testament to Emyr’s cruelty. The wounded warrior had gone to the deer god as he began to die from an infected wound, and begged him for a cure, so he could live to see his children and his wife. And while Emyr took pity on him, he asked him for something in return: fifteen years of loyalty, of servitude. 

True to his word, the warrior did as he asked—he tended to the god’s every whim and desire, for fifteen long, grueling years. Fifteen years that, for an immortal, passed by in the blink of an eye, but for a human, were, well… fifteen years. When the warrior finally returned home, he found his wife had died believing he had died after disappearing for so long, and his children, now grown, were resentful of having grown up without a father. The warrior lived a full life, to a ripe old age, but it was a lonely one, for he had no wife or children to take care of him or keep him company.

And finally, you thought of the rider, of the odd red and gold mask that haunted both your dreams and Baekhyun’s. There were no towns around for miles, not unless you passed through the mountains, in the opposite direction of the Spearwood, and no child in Ironbend had gone missing and remained unfound for over eighty years. The man looked too young and had moved with too much energy to be 90 years old. 

Your puffy eyes fluttered shut, listening to Baekhyun’s steady heartbeat.

...And not do a thing about it?

Except there was something to do about it. And while your chances were slim, there was always a chance. 

Slowly, you lifted yourself off of Baekhyun’s chest and sat next to him on the bed, admiring his features as he slept. The bridge of his round nose, the moles on his face, the apples of his cheeks. 

Oh, how you would miss him.

Baekhyun was a pretty heavy sleeper, but you still took great care to dress quietly, pulling on a warm shirt, thick pants and a cloak, along with a pair of winter gloves. You grimaced pulling them on, as you used your injured hand, the skin swollen and irritated, pain prickling every time you flexed your fingers or your wrist. Your heart never ceased pounding.

Next, you grabbed a satchel and went to the kitchen, packing a loaf of bread, some jam, a few strips of dried meats, and some fruit. You could find water in the streams, you figured. 

Quietly, you set your bow and quiver next to the satchel on the floor, and hurried to find some ink and a scroll of paper. As you looked, a glint of silver out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

It was one of Baekhyun’s many swords, still partially sheathed, propped up against the wall. Smaller, a bit more lightweight. He didn’t use it much precisely because of that—he preferred something heavier, that could bring down more force. You thought of the rider and his knife, and how you would most likely end up injured if he came close to you; a bow and arrow is only so good up close. You swallowed a lump in your throat, quietly picking it up. Glancing at the bedroom doorway, where you could still see Baekhyun asleep on the bed, dark hair tousled, you took a deep breath, before tying the sheath’s leather band around your waist, securing it tightly. 

Blinking back tears, hands shaking, you wrote down a brief letter.

Baekhyun, my love, 

Please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I can't sit here and die when I know there's at least a chance. Life will find a way. Love will find a way. I will find a way. I will do everything possible to find my way back to you, safe and sound. Don't look for me. It's dangerous enough as it is in The Spearwood, and now with the chance that I might hurt you as well… If these truly are my final days, I want you to remember as I am, and not as what the curse will turn me into.

You shine brighter than the stars, Baek. Please don't stop doing so, ever. That shine will lead me back to you even on the darkest of nights.

Forever yours,

Y/N

Tiptoeing, you set down the weathered paper on your side of the bed, before looking at Baekhyun one last time. Carefully, you leaned over him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No matter what happens, we’ll see each other again,” You whispered against his skin, “And after you're done yelling at me, I’ll kiss you the way you deserve.”

Escaping was an easy feat when you knew the standard night patrol route—even easier when you were the one who wrote them. Carrying all of your things, you made your way to the stables, the moon your only source of light. 

There was no one in the stables, which made saddling up Ivan, your reindeer, easier. In the silence as you worked hastily, you began to doubt your actions. Go back, a voice whispered somewhere in the back of your mind, stay with your family, stay with Baekhyun. Hold him tight and don't let go until you die. Kiss him like it will free you from the curse, even though it won't. Be happy. Make them happy.

Your eyes drifted down to the bandage, which you had changed right before leaving, feeling the slight throb of your skin. You were reminded of the things that hung in the balance—or rather, imbalance. The unfairness of it all. Yes, life was unfair, but here you had a chance to take at least something back.

And so you didn’t go back. You continued to saddle up the reindeer, slinging the bag over its side, and finally, you left the stable, and quietly made your way towards one of the side gates. You knew the main gate was the one most heavily guarded, and that the side gates were generally more lax. Given the position of the moon in the sky, which was slowly being covered by clouds, you could also tell that the guards’ shift would be ending, and there would be a brief period where the gate was left unattended.

With baited breath, you waited, holding the large creature’s harness in your uninjured hand, watching from behind a corner as the guards stood at their posts. For about ten minutes, your heart pounding in your chest the entire time, you watched the parapets, and then turned to look at the alleyway you were hiding in. You did your best to hold your breath when you peeked around the corner, knowing that the condensation could give you away if they happened to look your way.

Finally, the two guards walked away, mumbling to each other as they did, and you took this as your cue. You led your reindeer to the gate, and pulled off the thick iron plank that locked the gate, careful to not make a noise. 

When it was open, you hopped onto the reindeer, nudged him slightly, and he slowly walked into the treeline. You looked down at the snow, and hoped that the dark would hide the trail until it started to snow. 

You rode on Ivan’s back for hours, until the darkness started to slowly fade. Somewhere during that time, it had started to snow. Now, the forest floor was covered with a fresh sheet of snow, that looked a shade of light blue rather than white, now during the twilight. During that span of time, as you rode on deeper and deeper into the forest, you realized the sheer magnitude of it. The stories the village elders had told you and the other children to keep away from the woods, and stay inside of the walls: that the servants of the gods were large creatures with sharp white teeth and long nasty claws, that the Spearwood was alive, and knew that humans had abandoned it, so it tricked travelers into going in circles—no matter how close the treeline seemed to be, you could walk for hours and never cross it because of the Spearwood’s magic, playing tricks on your eyes until you succumbed to the cold, or dehydration, or hunger.

Paranoia was trickling its way into your head, albeit slowly. As you stopped to let Ivan rest, you pulled out a piece of cured meat, chewing it until your jaw was sore as Ivan dug his hooves into the snow, only stopping when he found a patch of grass to chew on. You looked up at the sky, and then in all four directions. You knew that the mountains opposite the Spearwood were towards the north, and by going north you would eventually leave the forest and find Ironbend, but currently, with the snowfall and the clouds, you had no idea which way that was.

But you didn’t plan on returning until you knew for sure the gods would listen to you. 

Apparently, the gods weren’t very keen on listening.

Onward you went for days, panic slowly kicking in as you realized that you had no way of actually knowing in which direction you were headed. You seemed to be riding Ivan in circles, and the silence of the forest, save for the sound of Ivan’s hooves against the snow, was beginning to drive you to madness. Every few hours you switched between walking on him and riding, taking quick breaks every time you decided to switch. The isolation was quickly becoming too much to handle. 

You thought of your friends, of your family, of Baekhyun, of everything said that night before you left. You didn’t want to imagine what was happening back home, but you couldn’t help it, what with walking around all day and not having anything to do. 

You knew that your parents must have been heartbroken, and that your friends would likely be losing their minds. But you knew that you were doing what felt right.

You had packed enough small snacks to last you about three weeks if you rationed correctly, but you felt as though you were constantly running on empty, never fully satisfied. You drank water every time you came past streams or snowmelts, because you didn’t know when you would find one again, cupping your hands together and drinking until you were practically full, fingers pained from the freezing water and your throat sore. 

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The wound was getting worse. The curse was beginning to spread. Initially, while it had started at the bite mark in the middle of your forearm, it was now making its way to your elbow and wrist. The tissue seemed to be turning necrotic as well, secreting a sort of mucous substance that was black. The smell was bearable when you had the bandage on, but every time you took them off to change them your eyes watered and you had to hold back the urge to gag. 

When night fell, you slept on Ivan, who was pretty comfortable in the cold, laying down in it and laying against the trees. You had never realized just how dark the world could be without lanterns to light your way, and your small oil lantern barely illuminated anything. It did well warming your hands though, which would cramp when they felt the heat.

Worst of all, the deeper you went into the forest, the more it felt like you were being watched. Which was odd, because you saw no animals. None at all, which only served to put you on edge more. 

The first two days it seemed fine, but after that, it changed. Now that you knew that you were well and truly on your own, the crisp winter air felt tense. Even Ivan became a bit skittish, and you felt bad for bringing your innocent reindeer into such a stressful situation. You were on edge all hours of the day now, eyes darting from side to side always, ears straining as you listened for something, anything. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting to release its wrath on you. 

Three more days passed before it finally did.

They came when you came across a lake in the middle of the afternoon, seemingly unfrozen. You got off of Ivan, an odd sensation pooling in your gut as you approached the crystal clear body of water. Oddly enough, you felt at peace, and for the first time in days, the striking silence was comforting. Now, instead of feeling like the forest was holding its breath anxiously, almost angrily, it felt as if it was holding its breath in anticipation.

The water was clear as day and seemed to span for miles. Trees grew out of the depths, and in the center, a small island emerged out of it. When you focused on the island, you felt your eyes widen—there was no snow on it at all. Quite the contrary, actually. It was a lush, beautiful green, with a blossoming tree smack in the middle of it. For such a small island, you were certain it was the brightest green you’d ever seen.

Your dry throat almost burned in anticipation as you kneeled. At this point, it had been about a day since you had last come across water, and your head was starting to ache. When you dipped your fingers in, you gasped. The water wasn’t freezing like it had been in the other streams you came across, nor was it cold. It was tepid, bordering on lukewarm. It felt kind, it felt welcoming, and while the setting lured you into a sense of security, you couldn’t help but feel as if this was wrong, because it was a lake, in a dangerous forest. It couldn’t welcome you, not at all.

That snapped you out of your trance, and you turned just in time to face the rider as he tackled you to the ground, pinning you down against the snow, the sudden cold causing your back to arch. You were vaguely aware of Ivan being startled, and the sound of growling somewhere off to your left, but you were more preoccupied by the red mask hovering above you, and the dagger about to come down on your face. You grabbed the man by his wrists, arms straining with effort as your injured arm flared in pain, wrenching a guttural cry from your lips.  

You pulled him forward, causing him to lose his balance and topple next to you. You took your chance, straddling his chest and knocking the dagger out of his hand with a kick. You pinned his arms down, before pulling off the mask swiftly, sneering at him.

But you stopped when you saw his face.

Somehow, you found yourself entranced; for his features were contorted into rage and pain but you had never seen such a beautiful person. His eyes were large and round, a deep dark brown. His plump lips were curled into a harsh sneer. He had painted three long triangles across his face with what appeared to be dried blood: one below each of his eyes, the third one in the middle of his forehead, ending beneath his eyebrows. 

His large ears, hidden beneath black, shaggy hair, gave him an elfish look. He was wearing large, white, circular earrings.. Beneath you, you could tell he was pure muscle, large and beefy to the point where it left you reeling because, oh, gods, how can one man be so big?

He took the chance and flipped you over, a groan leaving your throat when your head hit the ground hard, but saw an opening quickly and lifted your leg to knee him in the groin. He toppled over, groaning in pain, and for one final time, you found the roles reversed. On top of him, you unsheathed Baekhyun’s sword, ready to subdue the rider. You pressed the blade to his neck, poising yourself to speak—

When one of the wolves grabbed you by the collar of your cloak, dragging you away from him. The wolf stilled even though you continued to struggle against it. You could feel your injured arm bleeding beneath the bandages, and the subtle tremors riding throughout it as you watched the rider stumble to his knees, picking up the sword, and crawling towards you.

He did the same you had done and pressed the blade to your neck, breath heaving from his chest, air puffing into the cold. If he had been angry before, now he was furious, and while a small side of you felt the urge to cower back in fear, you could feel one side of your body heating up slowly, a sensation you hadn’t felt in over a week slowly making its way back into your system.

“Why are you here?” His deep, menacing tone didn’t sound like much of a question, but rather an accusation. 

“Take me to Emyr,” You demanded immediately. “I need to speak with him.”

He blinked. For a second, he seemed taken aback, almost offended. But then his features hardened again, and he pressed the iron even further into your neck. It didn’t break the skin but you felt a sting against your windpipe, grimacing at the sensation. Your fingers curled into fists, your entire body trembling now as you felt something moving underneath the bandages, beneath your very flesh.

“Don’t tell me what to do, human,” He spat, “This is not your forest.”

The wolf behind you growled, and you felt it one last time: the urge to hurt, the urge to kill, a feeling of absolute hatred. This time, as opposed to the first time, you didn’t hold it in, and you didn’t count. When the black goo oozed from your skin, turning the air rancid, you didn’t gag, but rather embraced it. 

And a split second later, just as the man had lowered his gaze to where the smell was coming from, his eyes widening at the bandages stained black, it was too late. 

This being only the second time you had felt it, and this being the first time you didn’t restrain it, you weren’t fully sure what you were expecting. But you most certainly weren’t expecting your arm to bend into a shape it wasn’t supposed to bend into, in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go. And you definitely weren’t expecting black, slimy tendrils to break your skin, pushing the man away with so much force that his back pushed itself into a tree. He yelled out in pain, clutching at his right shoulder. 

The violent coils did the same to the wolf, pushing it off to the side. And while momentarily, you rejoiced in the lack of restraint, it was taken over almost immediately by panic, because you just didn’t know how to make it stop. What frightened you even more was that a part of you didn’t want it to stop. As the tendrils flailed angrily, attempting to reach the man and the wolves as well, you felt the need to let it consume you, and then let it consume the man, and the wolves, and eventually, the entire forest. You wanted them dead, gone, burned to the ground, because none of this would have happened had it been for this disgusting fucking forest.

But you knew that wasn’t the way.

Fury coursed through your veins, and your eyesight blurred, quite literally blinded by anger. Clinging to your logic, you pushed yourself onto your front, pressing all of your weight onto the monstrosity that had once been your arm. The adrenaline had stopped you from feeling it before, but now, as you pressed your mangled arm into the ground, you could feel how broken it was, how the skin ached where the coils had broken through. You cried out in pain, in anger, in sheer terror, praying for it to stop. But it simply wouldn’t, and you wondered if you had come all this way to die because you had pushed the curse too much. 

Your mind went to Baekhyun as you screamed, of the way his eyes sparkled when the sunlight filtered in through the window in the mornings, when you woke up next to him. You started to believe you would never see them again. How you had broken his trust for an irrational decision you had made because of your stubbornness and pride, and how now you would never see the man you loved again, all because you believed you were right when you were so very, very wrong. 

But somehow, the thought of him grounded you, and you felt the curse weaken. Still, it was something, and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you conjured up mental images of Baekhyun making you laugh, and recalled the sensation of his lips softly kissing yours. You remembered the time he had first held your hand, at fourteen, right after an intense sparring session, and how at fifteen, you had been the one to kiss him, even though he was the one who asked you, because he was too nervous and unsure of what to do. 

The black appendages finally retreated back beneath your skin when you remembered how he had held you that last night before you fell asleep, and only when your free hand found its way to the pendant around your neck did your bones snap forcefully back into place. You were left hyperventilating, struggling to catch your breath as you buried your face into the snow, attempting to hide your weakness from your enemies. You heard footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer and closer, but they froze when another rush of footsteps came from another direction. 

Even though you weren’t looking, you knew it was a large party. There was simply too much thumping for it to be one person… or whatever they were. All sound stopped, save for your panting, before you heard scrambling, and you lifted your gaze in time to watch the man drop to one knee, bowing his head in submission. 

“My king,” He murmured, and you turned your head ever so slightly to the direction in which he was leaning. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, and your teary eyes widened as you saw what you saw.

The giant deer walked poised mere feet away from you commanded a presence over all of the other animals that had just arrived with him. You saw other deer, more reindeer, foxes, wolves, bears. In the trees all kinds of birds were perched, an eagle resting on a branch almost directly above the large creature. 

Its antlers were large, larger than you had ever seen, branching out in all directions, almost forming a sort of crown. When it took a step forward, you watched in awe as flowers and grass began to bloom where he stepped, peeking out from beneath the snow. 

Emyr, you realized with a chill, the deer god. King of the gods, ruler of the forest.

So, the god rumbled, without truly speaking, voice echoing through your mind, what is the meaning of all of this? 

Come to find out, Emyr wasn’t the only spirit you were in the presence of. Your weapons were confiscated. As the wolf dragged your body—weak from what just happened—through the snow, you realized that the four Pillars of the Forest were all around you. Emyr was leading the animals ahead of you, but the man walked next to the wolf as it dragged you, and next to him, walked the other wolves. The biggest one eyed you with burning distrust, and wisdom beyond your years, and when you locked eyes with her, something within you knew that this was Selyne, warden of the forest and goddess of the hunt. She growled softly, and the man’s eyes snapped to her, ready to listen to what she had to say. 

Disgusting, she growled, the nerve you have, little girl, to march all the way into this forest and injure my sons even more than you already have. I should rip your throat out right now—

Selyne. A giant brown bear lumbered up next to her, speaking gently but cautiously, she came here for a reason. The least we could do is listen before you do so, sister.

Your eyes widened, realizing this was Mirren, the bear goddess of family, matron of the forest. The wolf goddess let out something akin to a scoff, and before they could continue their discussion, Emyr stopped at a clearing not far off from the lake, where it seemed winter hadn’t touched down, grass green beneath you. The sun shone through a hole in the clouds, warming up the atmosphere, and your body shivered as you felt its heat pour over your body. In the center of the clearing, a large rock had three ledges, and a hole in the very bottom.

The Pillars of the Forest settled into the great stone. Mirren walked into the hole, Selyne hopped onto the lowest ledge, Emyr onto the middle ledge. Moments later, the eagle you had seen resting above Emyr’s head earlier flew onto the highest ledge, and you realized that this was Beval, the eagle god.

The animals around you chittered anxiously. The wolf set you down onto your knees, but did not step back. The rider stepped forward, however. He had picked up his dagger after you had been dragged away by the brown wolf, and now he held it forward to your neck once more. A silent threat.

Silence, Emyr said, and the animals obeyed. You could hear a pin drop. 

State your name, child, the bear ordered, and you cleared your throat. 

“Y/N,” You answered, voice raspy and gruff after not having spoken, “Y/N L/N.”

State your purpose in this forest. Selyne’s anger was barely contained, you could tell, but you refused to back down. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and flexed your free arm.

“I was cursed, great goddess,” You stated, “Cursed by one of your sons. I came to plead forgiveness, and ask to be healed.”

Forgiveness? Beval huffed, Healed? After everything your people have done to this forest? Burning your fires, taking our resources, and repeatedly trying to destroy our homes?

You looked down, before meeting the eagle’s strict gaze again. “I understand, my lord, that your kind and mine have been at war for hundreds of years. But I don’t wish to bring any of you harm, not right now into—”

Not now that you need us, Emyr deduced, and you bit your lip. 

“I don’t intend to use you for your powers, great king. I offer my service in return.”

If you don’t wish to harm us, why attack my son? Your eyes turned to the wolf goddess, trying to think of how to answer without angering her further. How do we know you’re even telling the truth?

“I was surprised,” You said after a few seconds of mulling over your answer, “His ambush caused me to panic, and defend myself. I understand why he’d do so if he didn’t know my intentions.”

“Even knowing your intentions, I’d have done it,” The man grumbled, “You’re a fool.”

You glared at him, but didn’t retaliate. You didn’t need to make yourself look worse.

What is this curse you speak of, Y/N? Mirren asked, And what do you mean it was one of Selyne’s sons who cursed you?

You told the story, choosing your words cautiously. Describing the attack, you watched as Selyne’s ears picked up, and she sat up straight, lifting her head. You described the tendrils, the black substance that secreted from your arm, the anger and hatred you felt when it controlled you. And you described remembering the story of the wounded warrior, how the curiosity drove you to leave home and wander for days until you came here.

Ah, the warrior, Emyr murmured warmly, Doyoung. What a fine young man. Of course, the circumstances were different then. His kind—your kind—was still a part of this kingdom, and he came to me looking to cheat death when he was wounded while he defended the Spearwood. 

“I understand, great king,” You answered, “But my plea still stands. Free me from this curse, and I will work as the warrior did.”

Resilient, determined. Mirren sounded amused. She’s not going to give up, brother. 

And what after you finish your years of service? Obviously, Selyne couldn’t be swayed, You return to your little Irontown, and continue to plot our downfall?

“Ironbend, and no, great goddess. You see, I am the leader’s only daughter. Next in line to inherit his place.”

You had your trump card, you realized, as the four gods took notice, all four of them exchanging glances, leaning forward. You could work around the original terms.

"My kind are tired of this war," You explained, growing more and more confident, "As I expect your kind are as well. It's all I've known, all my father's known, and all his father has known. If I can offer my people a stop to this war, I am willing to negotiate a truce of some sort.”

A truce… Beval mused, What are your conditions?

“I can’t stay as long as the warrior did. They’ll move on from me and pass my claim to the next person in line. Let me go back as soon as I am healed, and when I take my father’s place, I shall return, and we can negotiate a truce.”

Let you go, as soon as you are healed… The deer god repeated. I see what you are trying to do, girl. Don’t think you can fool a god. 

“No, great king, I don’t intend to—”

I am thousands of years old. You think you can fool me? My terms for healing are simple, service and loyalty to my kingdom. You are neither loyal to my kingdom, nor are you willing to serve me. 

You forced yourself to take deep breaths, attempting to remain calm. This had come so close to the way you had wanted it to.

You are too proud and too stubborn. You think that your status will help you now. No. I will heal not heal you… but you will remain in this forest. Learn a thing or two, and maybe then we can negotiate this again. 

"Stay in the forest? I… For how long? My healer told me I only had a month and a half to live. I—"

For as long as is needed. You do this on my terms, or not at all. If you wish to go, then do so at any moment. The war will continue and you will still be cursed. If you wish to be healed, you will stay until you earn your freedom from this curse. 

You swallowed a growing lump in your throat, meeting the god's eyes. "Very well, great king. I accept your terms."

Very well... But you will not serve me. You will serve Selyne and her sons. 

Your eyes widened, darting nervous to the white wolf. She looked displeased with the situation, but said nothing. 

He's doing this on purpose, you thought, he knows Selyne wants me dead so he's making it harder for me. 

Selyne spoke again. Serve me? Well, then. My sons will work with you. Her eyes looked at the wolf behind you and at the rider. As punishment.

The wolf behind you huffed, and the rider tensed. "Mother, I—"

Quiet, both of you. My orders were simple.  You were forbidden from leaving the inner circle of the forest without me, and forbidden from instigating the humans. You did both. You could have been killed, or injured as your brother is now. You deliberately disobeyed me and now because of your foolish actions, we have a human who has seen the inner circle, and knows where the most important part of the forest is. 

As insolent as she is, she has come for a purpose. She is to fulfill that purpose, and you will help her do so. Am I understood?

"Mother, she's—"

Chanyeol, the she-wolf growled, don't test me. 

Chanyeol. So that was his name. 

The princes of the forest, working with a human, Mirren said, this should be interesting.

You could tell that Chanyeol was not pleased with the situation. The other wolves of his pack as well. After the meeting was adjourned, and the other animals dispersed, Chanyeol pushed you to your knees, and he growled at you, "Follow me." 

You obeyed wordlessly, taking note of his temperament. You walked aimlessly, for about twenty minutes. Surprisingly, Ivan, ever faithful, walked behind you, but you could sense some apprehension from him. Your eyes looked at Chanyeol's back, covered by the pelt of a white wolf, serving the same purpose as your cloak. 

Your cloak, which had been dragged through the snow, and was now wet. You did your best to hide your shivering. You could deal with that later.

To distract yourself, you let your eyes stray to the wolves. There were three of them, all smaller than Selyne but bigger than the average wolf. One, the brown wolf who had dragged you along. The second one, black, the third one a classic timber gray. 

You realized that the white wolf who had bitten you wasn't there. 

"Where's the white one?" You asked, voice quiet and curious. Chanyeol and the three wolves stopped walking, and turned to look at you. 

"Resting," Chanyeol answered. You nodded, not answering, and they continued on, trailing behind them. You walked a little longer until you stumbled across a cave. Their den, you realized. You stopped, and so did Ivan behind you. You watched as Chanyeol and the other three wolves made their way into the den, but you couldn’t find the courage to enter. You almost felt as if you were trespassing. 

You turned to your reindeer, skittish and eyeing the den, and walked towards him, caressing the side of his head. “You’ll be okay, big guy,” You murmured, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your stomach rumbled, and you sighed softly, pulling out your loaf of bread and the little remaining jam there was.

It was a miracle you’d managed to make the bread last this long, you mused to yourself as you spread the jam onto it. 

“What is that?” 

You jumped, letting out a soft squeak. You turned to Chanyeol, who had creeped up on you while his brothers remained in the den. His face remained stoic and bordering on annoyed. “Stop fucking doing that,” You snapped, “It’s bread and jam.”

He tilted his head, and you blinked. “Do… I’m guessing that isn’t a thing here?”

Chanyeol shook his head, his earrings swinging as he did so. You pursed your lips, before breaking the slice in half. Slowly, you offered him one. Eyeing it with curiosity, and slight disdain, he grabbed his half. Then his dark gaze met yours. “You first.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“This. You eat it first.” 

Raising your eyebrows, you wondered if he thought it was poisoned. As if you would be stupid enough to poison the son of the goddess who hated you most, in front of all of his brothers. “Fine,” You huffed, and took a bite, eyes widening and shaking your head at him challengingly. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying your appearance. 

His eyes stopped for a moment when they landed on Baekhyun’s necklace. But a second later, he looked back up at you, and took a bite once he saw you swallow, before making his way back to the den. Shivering, you finished your jam before taking over your wet cloak. It was even heavier now that it was wet. 

Here, in what the gods called the inner circle of The Spearwood, it wasn’t as cold, so you hung your cloak over a low hanging branch and hoped it would dry soon. Now, you were unsure what to do. Chanyeol had gone to lay down with the wolves, presumably, and you stood awkwardly as you were left unsure what to do. You were tired after everything that had happened in the past hour or so—the attack, your meeting with the gods, now this—but you weren’t sure where you would sleep for now. You weren’t sure if you were welcomed in the den.

So you made your way over to a rock opposite the den, sitting on it and resting your head against a tree stump growing right next to it. You thought over everything that had happened, but mainly, how you had handled the curse. Your hand gripped the opal with your free hand, staring off into the trees. 

The curse is fueled by hatred, you surmised, love is what will ground you. 

You wondered what Baekhyun was doing right now, as you watched the forest grow darker slowly. For a horrifying thought, you wondered what could have happened to him that night if you hadn’t managed to control yourself. You quickly pushed it away, not willing to get caught up on what could have happened, but didn’t Your eyes grew heavier and heavier as you thought of home, and beneath your eyelids, the images danced so vividly…

“Wake up.” The voice was gruff, calloused hands shaking you haphazardly. You furrowed your eyebrows, humming softly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had grown colder, and you found that you actually had managed to fall asleep. The sky had finally cleared up, the moon high up in the sky. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your lower back. You looked up at Chanyeol, who had pulled his mask back onto his face.

“We’re patrolling the border between the inner circle and the outer one. You’re coming with us.” His voice was muffled from behind the mask.

“Oh,” You answered, “Okay.”

You stood, arching your back to stretch out the kinks. The other wolves were standing behind Chanyeol, and he pointed at each one.

“Junmyeon,” He said at the brown wolf.

“Kyungsoo.” The black wolf.

“Jongin.” The gray wolf. 

You nodded at all of them awkwardly, unsure how to address them. They eyed you with disdain, Kyungsoo pulling off the first ever eye roll you’d seen on a wolf. Junmyeon huffed at him, and Chanyeol shook his head. “Whatever,” He grumbled, “Let’s go.”

The night was rough. Ivan was asleep, so all you had were your feet to trudge through the snow. For hours, you walked through trees and over rocks. 

You were trailing through the snow with Chanyeol, having pulled on your cloak again. He was riding Junmyeon, who was walking slower than the others. The brown wolf seemed to be the most gentle of the three—four? You had yet to see the fourth—wolves, watching you with more indifference than dislike. 

Kyungsoo and Jongin trailed ahead, seemingly content ignoring you.

“You do this every night?” You asked Chanyeol. He nodded. “Our mother is the warden of the Spearwood. It’s only natural that we take after her.”

You nodded in understanding. “Will I be coming with you every—”

“Yes. Stop talking.” His head turned to face forward again, back on alert.

The night was incredibly awkward and tense. You were unsure if the tension was due to the alertness of the wolves on patrol or because of you. 

A few minutes later, you spoke again. “Will I meet your other brother?”

Everyone stopped, slowly turning to face you. The three wolves’ eyes were narrowed at you, and you immediately knew that you had said the wrong thing. Kyungsoo took a step forward with a growl, but Junmyeon growled back at him, and he backed off. 

“He’s injured.” Chanyeol’s voice was clipped. “He was injured by people like you with those—those things.”

“Why can’t Emyr heal him?” You asked, tilting your head. “If he’s powerful enough to heal me, then why can’t he heal—”

“Because we don’t understand his injury,” Chanyeol snapped, getting off of Junmyeon. He began to approach you. “We understand the curse, but not the injury. If we can’t heal the injury, we can’t stop the curse. We understand your injury and your curse. It’s different. You wouldn’t understand. Now—”

“But I want to understand—”

“You could never understand,” Chanyeol snarled, making his way into your personal space, “Your kind never do, the vermin that you are.”

You glared up at the unwavering red mask, even harsher in the moonlight, inches away from your face. “Now stop talking,” Chanyeol demanded, poking you square in your upper chest, “And don’t talk about my brothers as if you deserve to.”

He made his way back up onto Junmyeon, and the foursome continued, not even watching to see if you walked to keep up.

Junmyeon stopped walking at your speed for the rest of the long, cold night.

When you made your way back to the den, the sun was beginning to rise. As Chanyeol got off of Junmyeon, and shooed his brother away, you approached him.

“Why can’t I hear your conversations?” 

You’d realized they were having a conversation pretty early on after your little spat, but didn’t comment on it, mainly because Chanyeol decided to whisper to his brothers so as to leave you out. You found it petty. But now, your curiosity got the best of you.

Chanyeol pulled back the hood of his pelt and took off his mask, scowling at you.“Why does it matter?” 

“Because I might never understand, but I can try.”

Chanyeol scoffed at you, pushing past you. You’d had enough. Your feet were aching, your fingers and the tip of your nose were numb, your lips were close to breaking because of how chapped you were, and you were hungry and dehydrated. 

So yes, you gripped his shoulder roughly, and pulled him back. You weren’t expecting him to let out a pained cry, and you didn’t expect to feel something hard beneath the cloak. 

Immediately, the three wolves stood from where they had gone to lay down, snarling angrily, but he waved them away. They stopped snarling, but didn’t sit.  

“What is—”

“Don’t touch me,” He said, swatting your hand away. 

“Let me help you,” You countered earnestly. “Please.”

“Why should I?”

You made a face. “Because I might be able to figure out what’s hurting you?”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “I already know what’s hurting me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you been able to stop it? It’s a shoulder injury, it’s not that h—”

You stopped midway, when your eyes drifted to his injured shoulder, hidden beneath his clothes, his right shoulder.

The very one you had shot the day you got bitten.

“I did that,” You mumbled, gears turning in your head “...And you can’t have one of Emyr’s healers treat you because… up until yesterday, no one knew you had left the inner circle of the forest.”

A smug grin spread across your face. “Scared of mommy finding out, huh?”

Oh, if looks could kill. 

 You shook your head, your smile leaving your face. “Really. Let me help, Chanyeol. Let me right a wrong of my own doing.”

Chanyeol’s eyes looked you up and down, eyeing you suspiciously. Finally, he grunted out softly, before nodding his head in your direction once. “What are you gonna do?”

You had him lead you to the nearest body of water, a small stream about ten minutes from the den. You sat him down on the banks of the stream, where there was no snow. You set down what you had brought: his knife, plus your bandages and a small jar of ointment Yixing had given you for your cut. 

It wasn’t working on you, but you had a feeling it was more due to the fact that you were cursed by ancient dark magic. 

“Take off your clothes.” You pulled off your cloak and rolled up your sleeves. He made a perplexed face. “What are you—”

“Keep your pants on,” You added hastily, “I need to see the injury.” 

After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled off the pelt, and set it down gently next to where he was sitting. His tattered black shirt was also removed, and set down on top of it, but he left his necklace of animal teeth on. Kneeling behind him, your eyes settled on the tan skin of his back, before spotting the wound. 

He must have broken the wooden shaft of the arrow as he tried to remove it, because the edge was splintered and the arrowhead was lodged in his skin. The skin around the wound was an angry red, swollen. You could even see a bit of pus caking in the crevice of the cut.

You picked up the knife, mentally noting where you would cut around to pull the arrowhead out. Your other hand rested on his other. “This is gonna hurt,” You told him, voice soft, “I’m sorry.”

You pressed down around the wound gently at first, feeling him tense up beneath you. Then, when you pressed down with more force, he hissed in pain. Finally, when you plunged the knife into the wound, he groaned out.

His breathing turned heavy as you tried to work quickly, but not too hastily as to butcher your work. You used the knife as a sort of separation between the arrowhead and his skin, trying gently to pull it out. 

When you finally did, he let out a harsh, shaky breath, fists balled.

You led him to the stream, using your hands to wash out the wound. It wasn’t hot at all, and it probably wasn’t the cleanest, but it was the next best thing. Trying to remember how Yixing had done it that time you Jongdae accidentally shot Minseok with his bow, and you rinsed out the pus eventually. 

You slathered on the ointment a bit more generously than you probably should have, trying your best to not hurt him too much, before dressing the wound with some of your gauze. You ripped off a bit of fabric from your pant leg, before looping it below his arm and tying it taut, so the bandage wouldn’t slip free.

“Better?” You asked when you were finished. 

“I suppose,” He answered, moving his shoulder to test it out, “...Yes.”

You smiled, even though he wasn’t facing you. “You go back. I need to change my own bandages.”

“You know which way to go?” He asked, pulling on his shirt, and then his pelt. 

“Yes,” You answered, watching as he picked up his knife before he stalked off. 

He didn’t even thank you. You wondered vaguely if he knew how.

When you returned, now with fresh bandages, Chanyeol had curled up in the den with his brothers, and you went over to Ivan, who was chewing on some grass he’d found to put away your bandages and the ointment. Wordlessly, you flexed your fingers, watching how the skin had turned a black, necrotic color that would look unnatural on any skin tone. You wondered vaguely how much longer you had, before shaking your head. 

You fell asleep again on the hard, uncomfortable rock, sleeping for hours upon hours.

You woke again in the late afternoon, around the same time you had first been attacked by Chanyeol and his brothers. The wolves were awake, some milling around the den and the others sitting in a circle. You could smell blood, and you perked up, figuring it must have been a catch. 

Slowly, you made your way over to them. Jongin noticed you first, gaze hardening. His snout was stained red, and you looked down between his paws to see a piece of red meat. Chanyeol turned around when he realized Jongin was looking at you, looking you up and down before turning again. You pursed your lips at his face, the skin around his mouth stained with blood—he'd obviously been eating the meat raw like the others.

"Can I…?"

"You have your own food."

You sighed. "Not really. Not enough to satisfy myself for a whole day."

Chanyeol stared at you for a few moments, looking disinterested, before sighing. He pulled out his knife, before cutting off a sizable chunk of meat from the deer. He handed it to you, and you nodded. "Thanks," you mumbled, before walking off, sitting on your designated rock.

You needed to figure out how to cook this thing.

Thankfully, they hadn't taken your oil lantern, which you quickly uncapped and lit, before breaking a small branch off of the tree. You used the branch to pierce the meat, before letting it hover over the flame. 

The flame was a bit small, but you knew it would cook eventually. At least until the exterior was cooked. 

While you'd been working, you didn't realize that Junmyeon had made his way over to the circle, all of the wolves watching you. 

What is she doing? Jongin asked, perplexed. She looks insane.

"I don't know," Chanyeol answered, leaning over to the gray wolf, "Maybe it's a human thing."

She's gonna burn it, Kyungsoo huffed, before spitting out a bone. If she doesn't burn down the entire forest first.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Yes, you were foolish, but he doubted you were incompetent enough to burn down an entire forest.

No, he's got a point. Junmyeon's tone was serious. Yeol, go see what she's doing. It could be dangerous. 

Chanyeol set down his chunk of deer, wiping his hands off and making his way to you. Your eyes met his once he was standing in front of you. “Can I help y—”

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m cooking my meat.” You sounded matter-of-fact. “I don’t want to get sick by eating it raw.”

Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning. “We’ve never gotten sick like that.”

“You’re used to raw meat, and they’re wolves. I am neither. So I have to.”

He pointed at the lantern, eyeing it warily. “What’s that?”

You stared at him for a second, before realizing just how isolated he had been from the human world. He didn’t know what bread or jam was, nor did he know about lanterns. He called guns those things, and he eyed you like you were other, as if you didn’t have the same shape of limbs, the same joints, ligaments and bones. 

“I-it’s a lantern,” You explained, snapping out of your thoughts. You explained how it worked, how it was lit, and how you had to wait for it to cook the fire before you could eat it.

You didn’t notice how your bodies scooted closer every few seconds. 

Neither did Chanyeol.

[ilkkijangege]

74

20 December 2019, Secret Santa Exhange

Our meetup was in PMac's in Dundrum. So I went through Golden Disks and upon descending the escalator, GUESS WHO I SEE STANDING AT THE ENTRANCE OF THE BAR? DING DING DING YOU GUESSED IT RIGHT. CHAD. I literally panicked and had to take a step back at a blind spot and take a deep breath, messaged my friend about it and just gathered all my courage to open the door. I pretended I was shock when I saw him to which he said "Oh hey!" Then we had a solid 2 minute conversation with just the two of us about if anyone is already inside, to which he said, he went in but did not see anyone, to his holiday plans. But I was stuttering the entire time I was talking to him. I literally did not know what we talked about. Then after a while, another guy from out team arrives and tells us that our team is already there so we went in and looked for them. We couldn't really see anything because it was really dark there.

Anyways, when we found them, they were at a waiting area at the back because the table was not ready yet. When it became ready, Chad sat in front of me, and this is something I have been dreaming about 😂 OH HE WAS WEARING CHECKERED AND SO WAS I. Unintentional couple clothing!

Then he was telling us how he did his driver's test in Mayo while visiting his grandma and passed while in Wicklow town, they are notorious for failing people. XD

Not the point but when it came to the gift exchange, we did it in a way that one person will say who they got and give it to the person, opens their gift and this person gives their own gifts. So when it was my turn, I did not know what to say about him so I said just that "I don't really know how to describe this person but I got Chad" and I handed him the gift. When he opened it, HE WAS SHOOK AND SMILEY THAT I GOT HIM A BABY YODA SHIRT, he was like HOW DID YOU KNOW? Same goes for the Peppermint Hot Choco. He wanted to hug me but since we were across from each other, we couldn't so I was just like "air hug" and 'I'm glad you liked the present!' It was really nice that he was sitting in front of me so I could really see his reactions. Hihihihihihi.

Then a few moments later, he asked me "Bianca, did you look at my profile picture?" I said yes, wow if he couldn't get this present out of his head then I really did make a good statement on him!!! 🥰😍 Baka he had that thought "I NEED TO TAKE THIS GIRL OUT ON A DATE" 😂 Sa New Year pls 😂

I also gave him a card with the gift, it was a really funny one about a turkey telling another turkey how it feels cool to be invited up to the house for Christmas dinner. Haha. He opened the card about like 20 mins after, read it and was like "oh you made the cookies?" And I said yes that I made them for my friends but had leftovers. I lied. I actually just made it for him.

Then later on, he goes to me 'If I had work tomorrow, I would wear it and I would wear it everyday if I could.' Kilig tlga ate mo eh. He asked me where I got it. I shouldn't have told him I got it on Amazon then he'll know how much I spent 😂 Then he asks me if I watch The Mandalorian and I said no, he said it is his favourite show at the moment. I said "how do you have Disney+?" He said: "I don't, I just pirate them." Then I told him that I would consider Disney+ when it comes to Ireland but Netflix is already expensive enough. Pero is he interested in knowing more of me? 😂

We didn't have much conversation throughout the night but towards the end, another guy from the team asks "who do you think got the best present tonight?" Chad was like "meeee", with no hesitation and was looking at me with a big smile on his face. I could really feel a great sense of pride in his reaction!! Damn that's probably the best gift he's ever received 😂😂😂😂

Then when I was leaving, he opened his arms and hugged me (I was sitting across him so I had to go to his side) and I told him to have fun in New York and to eat a lot of Shake Shack, to which he responded "that's the first thing on the menu!"

That's basically it lol I AM INSANELY HAPPY THAT HE LOVED MY GIFT. I messaged MF to deliver the good news and she was also very happy for me. I really hope that in the new year, we can definitely get to know each other more. I hope MF can organize some dinners/lunch/anything for us three so I can get to know him better.

I said that if he also gets me for KK, I would tell my sistars but since we were matching and he was REALLY HAPPY WITH MY GIFT, I decided to tell my sistars anyway. They kinda had a hunch, it's not like they aren't supportive, they just want me to guard my heart, become friends with him and see how it goes from there. They don't want me to fall in too deep just in case feelings aren't reciprocated. I agree, people around me have been telling me that and I know I must accept it, should it happen. I am very stubborn. I would force to do something I am not supposed to. But I have really been praying for him. We might just never know. I know my expectations are really high right now and it's not good. I haven't really had the chance to like someone in the last 8 years and now that a new person comes into my life, I am willing to do something about it.

Only time and God will tell if we are meant to be. I will continue praying to God for signs and hopefully he could direct me to the path that I am supposed to be. I still thank Him for the opportunity to be able to feel these feels.

I really hope he can get around to eating the cookies before he leaves for New York tho! And that he has not left his gift in Pygmalion haha

[jessicawhitlys]

philinda + N (vampire au)

Providence is the rainiest town in the United States- it sees maybe five days of pure sunshine every year, and spends most of its days shrouded in mist.

And it was for those qualities exactly that Phil and Melinda chose to settle their family there for the next few decades, if they were lucky.

“I met a girl whose mind I can’t read,” Jemma’s voice floats through the house as the door shuts behind her, and Phil looks up from the medical journal he’s reading and raises an eyebrow.

“A human girl?” he asks, and Jemma huffs, nodding.

Jemma was their eldest daughter- Phil’s first save, in the early 1800s, from the Spanish flu. She had been with him the longest, even before Phil had turned Melinda, and was one of the gifted vampires; she could read minds.

“She likes her,” Bobbi teases, settling on the couch and tugging Lance down beside her, arm around his neck. Jemma sends her sister a death glare, and Bobbi merely laughs. “Wouldn’t it be funny if she was still in my visions, you just can’t hear her?”

“Hey- stop teasing,” Melinda chides gently as she descends the stairs in a blur, settling on the armrest of Phil’s chair, hand on the back of his neck. “Where’s Nat?”

“She and Bucky went to hunt,” Jemma answers, rubbing at the back of her neck and sighing.

“What’s her name?” Melinda asks, and if Jemma could flush, she would have.

“Daisy,” she replies, fingers curled into fists and shoulders tight under she relaxes them. “She’s new- just moved from Arizona, according to what I’ve heard from the other students.”

“You should be talking to them, not reading their minds,” Melinda reminds her, and Jemma scoffs, jutting her chin out and crossing her arms in annoyance.

“She’s Cal Johnson’s kid. The sherrif,” she continues, and Phil raises an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know he had a child,” he says, and Jemma shrugs.

“Apparently she used to live with her mom, but she got remarried and is moving, so Daisy came here,” the young vampire tries to seem disinterested, but Melinda exhanged a knowing look with Phil, and Jemma’s features crinkled. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Think that’s the point, love,” Hunter added, and Bobbi snorted before she stood, dragging Lance up with her.

“We’re going to go find Bucky and Nat, hunt a little,” she says, waving, before they’re both off, laughing billowing out behind them as they raced towards the woods.

Jemma looked at the piano for a moment before her face wrinkled in disgust.

“I’m going hunting as well if you two are planning on doing that,” she shoots them a look, and Phil and Melinda at least have the decency to look vaguely embarrassed- Jemma rolls her eyes and rolls her shoulders. “We’ll bring something back for you.”

She’s out of the house in a flash, and Melinda slides from the arm of the chair into Phil’s lap, plucking the book from his hands and setting it off to the side.

“I thought we agreed PG thoughts around the kids,” Phil murmurs, hand skimming up her side, and Melinda chuckled, forehead falling to his.

“You know you in red always makes me want to break some funiture with you,” she replies, fingers skimming over the red button-down shirt he’d worn. Phil smirks, kissing her neck.

“I’ve been thinking it’s time we pick out a new bedframe,” he teases, and Melinda laughs, head falling back- Phil scoops her up, flying up the stairs and throwing her on the bed, the metal frame groaning.

“We have at least an hour,” she tells him, already attacking his buttons. “Bobbi will know when it’s safe for them to come back.”

Phil’s hands cupped her face as he bent to kiss her, sighing softly.

“How did I find the most beautiful woman in the entire world to spend forever with?” he asks, and Melinda’s hands slid to his jaw, thumbs stroking along the bone.

“You old sap,” she whispers, affection on her face. “My husband is the sappiest vampire there ever was.”

Phil laughs, low and warm, bending to kiss her as she smiled against his mouth.