#description of what shapeshifter skin feels like? lol

[scentedpepper]

Embered Metamorphisis

JASPER HALE X WEREWOLF!GN READER

● gif by @goodomcns

Summary: The aftermath of transfroming into a giant, raging wolf isn't kind to you --yet, your sworn enemy is.

Content Warnings: Uhhhh, descriptions of bones cracking, hair sprouting and such werewolf things.

Other Pairings: Sam Uley x GN Reader, Wolf Pack mentioned, Carlisle and Edward mentioned.

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Slowly slipping back into my twilight phase...

We didn't get enough struggles of being a quileute shapeshifter content so heres your stuggles of being a quileute shapeshifter content

Yeah I'm changing up my format but does that mean that I'm going back and re editing all 8 parts of leon kennedy series —lol

I have a marvel fic written and I literally have no excuse as to why its taking me so long to edit but yk

Heres twilight instead?

_________________________________________

You pulled your eyelids closer to your waterline, the splash of water against your searing hot face felt dull compared to the tear shaped lava dripping down the curve of your back, meeting at the waistband of your boxers and leaving a sour, pungent smell within the fabric. 

Your body shook with such agony, that had you been the fragile, human-esqu being that you posed as, your bones would have liquified; bones that turned a delicate peach flower shade of cream.

If you looked up into the mirror in front of you, you were sure, at this rate, you'd see steam floating off the very skin that had stretched and molded itself and grew hair the length of a beanstalk all over your body. But this wasn't the pain that tore apart every neuron in your brain, and rendered you to nothing but a shivering, aching mess.

It was something else, and even with your mind so sluggish, so disoriented and tired that you could easily sleep for several days and your stomach, pouring out gurgling noises of bregrudement that you could barely hear over the own ringing in your ears, ached with its hunger.

You seemed to be grunting to yourself, atop the linoleum flooring of your bathroom that you felt as if your feet were burning holes into. You made your own noises out in passing, brief, in and out moments where your ears tuned back to your surroundings. Huffs. Whistling. There was faint cursing.

Stupid. Fuckin stupid. The voice ran through your foggy mind, an echo of rage.

Your entire body shook with such a powerful force, so dolorous in nature, that your eyes held heavy purple bags beneath them. You squinted them ever further closed, yet the light seeped out from the crevices like tears.

You didn't dare look to the light, it'd be like blinding yourself to the sun because everything now was 10 times brighter, clearer, intense. You heard each beat of your pulse right behind your ears, it wasn't as much 'thump, thump, thump' as a constant noise that felt more like you were vibrating.

It was all the more aggravating, all of it.

Your muscles were spasming beneath you and the longer you stood the more you couldn't feel your toes. The longer you locked yourself in your bathroom, huddled into the furthest corner, the closer you felt death crawling along your own skin.

What are you? That question held such power to pull the rug beneath your feet. Objectively, you knew. Sam had crossed borders to ensure you didn't break the treaty anymore than he already was. And your mind held such a haze that not even now you could clearly decipher what exactly had happened.

The haze acted as a wall between your mind and Sam's, even as he commanded you, tumbled with you through the woods, wrestled you to the forest floor, leaves and broken branches caught in your fur as he snapped and snarled above you; he couldn't see clearly what happened. Let alone explain to you the precise point that your wolfy instincts -because apparently that was a thing you held within your very being- reigned.

All you could recall was a few faces.

Jasper's visage, etched with both horror and regret, staring back at you with rubies -as if you were the monster and not him. 

At some point, you could faintly remember him speaking to you from below as his hands fiercely held your snout, telling you to transform back into your usual self. But his face...it spoke volumes at how ready he was to run if not needed, to flee. Like in that moment, the only difference between life and death were the few inches separating you both.

Then there was Carlisle. You don't remember what happened in between but you remembered seeing the struggle in his and Edward's faces as they attempted to hold you down without hurting you and having themselves killed in the process.

With Sam, the memories were clearer, sharper. They kept surfacing like bubbles on a swirly tub.

He too spoke but the difference between him and Jasper was that his were demands, not pleas. 

Each plea was so faint against his normal voice -shockingly enough- and you could always recollect his words like a chanting, mantra of those just told a horrific, traumatizing tale.

 "Concentrate. " Was what he said.

Your name. Sometimes the shortened version with his southern drawl etched in at the edges.

But your bones didn't ease themselves in molding, twisting, grinding back into their shape until Sam got there. More importantly, that uncomfortable heated feeling of hair pushing itself out from your flesh faded to a shiver.

And your faint memories did not aid the man, who you'd previously held an unimaginable grudge against, in easing you into the subject. So, he stuck to what he knew, what he was sure made the most sense to any half-man, half-wolf in your situation. 

Quileute blood. This. That.

Each time you gritted your teeth, clacked them, your canines jarring against each other as he droned on about the treaty, about the vampires, about your time around all of them at once probably being the source of your trigger.

The magic in your blood lit ablaze like gasoline poured onto a pile of wood inside of you. And you didn't understand. Wouldn't for a while until you were coherent, not like this. But the idea of you simply being the one to blame had your mouth pursing shut, biting hard enough to draw that salty copper smell across your tongue.

Subjectively, as you stood in your bathroom, eyelids stapled shut, brain still muddled, body hotter than hot itself. Shaking. Teeth, sharper than usual, still dug painfully into the open wound in your mouth, pulling your lips back harshly.

You didn't know what to call yourself.

Werewolf.

Shapeshifter.

Monster.

They all seemed to mean the same thing.

Vampire.

Cold ones.

Blood sucker.

Those all meant the same too.

Enemy.

Your heart stung at that; painful. Sharp. There was something wet coming down your cheeks but you didn't acknowledge it. Barely registered the sound of your bones cracking from inside, the stretch and pull as tendons and ligaments reformed to shape your humanoid form.

Your teeth didn't let go of your lip as your body continued to reform itself in the correct places, your feet dirtied from the bottoms after you stalked through the woods behind your house, naked and scathed from your only 3rd transformation in counting.

You were not yet adjusted, that much was obvious as the rest of the wolves watched you stumble into your home before you were out of sight. Not because they could smell your shame or the pain you were in, not because your face was still smeared with mud and slobber. But because something struck their ears just then, the sound loud enough to echo from miles behind you and they recognized it for what it was.

A whimper. Pain, so visceral and agonizingly immense you almost keeled forward and gasped for air as soon as the shuddery whine passed.

You'd found your bedroom floor before you clung to the bathroom sink as you were now, the bite doing little but help rid the bitterness and tang on your tongue. The pit of your stomach tightened for a moment as your ears began picking up on your mother's soft shuffling noises and you could tell her exact location, how she fidgeted around on the couch.

But you were again drawn back into yourself and the memories seemed to flash once more as your body convulsed and twisted, feverously hot and unbearably sticky. But each pain felt like pure acid seared against a wound.

There were some parts that you noticed as things changed within your entire human psyche. For instance, the room, your room, smelled differently; it tasted differently. Your eyes, what were usually able to scatter quick glances about yourself yet it came off as completely relaxed and indifferent, your pupils darted as if you had a million things to look at.

This time, your lungs felt small, compressed and with that came each bit of scent the bathroom provided. All of it.

The hint of floral perfume that resided with your sister, most likely used the bathroom beforehand.

The watered-down aloe essence of a bottle of SPF that you guessed to be your brothers because it was strong, closer than the rest.

Then the sweetness of your mother's strawberry cream soap she splashed onto her hair in the morning and onto her skin not long before her eyes were drooping.

The musk of cologne, the sweatiness from the summer night. Some aftershave and others, toothpaste. The mint lingering from it assaulted your olfactories like the taste of charcoal briquettes did your dry throat.

It was everything all at once yet, each scent, noise, sight, touch was distinct. Picked out and pinpointed. You could hear your own heartbeat. You could hear how loudly the door caved a centimeter in its frame when the air from the fan swirled into the vent.

And when the sink began to crumble under your grip it was loud, deafening. A tidal wave and snap made entirely of your own anger. You couldn't bear to look in the mirror. You couldn't bear to lift your head and see a monster looking back at you.

You'd been in this state for hours, every minute, every single second, you could feel the warmth of the blood pumping through your veins, moving each muscle slowly, one by one. You knew the bone structure had settled as you curled in on yourself, facing the wall by the sink.

For the first half hour -though to you it felt like two- your mother had banged against the door, concerned by the slight creak and the heat you emitted through it. She cursed, cried. Stomped. After a while it became nothing but background noise to your ears, the vibrations going ignored against the center of your back, directly underneath her hand.

You heard her steps across the floor and the buzz of the phone line and then Sam but the searing hot pain encapsulating your muscles blocked you from hearing what he was saying; the only two words you picked up was 'let' and 'normal'. In short, he was barking reassuring sentences that were more mumbled than articulated in your ears.

More importantly, you could faintly sense just how long Sam had been on the line with your mother. Time kept going and the more it did, the clearer everything was from the white paint chipping off the door frames, to the noises in your own body.

But the heat never ceased, you couldn't find any salve that stenched and wouldn't flare your instincts even further, and any attempt to scratch yourself in frustration and ease the sting left a burning in your arm and no relief.

You were hot.

Hot.

Wet.

Hot and wet and burning.

You were burning, literally burning. Every nerve, every bit of skin was put on a sensitive scale against the brightest scalding iron fire and it fucking hurt. It fucking hurt so much, the longer it went on, and the longer it did go on, the quicker the seconds ticked by and you dripped and dripped in sweat and you couldn't seek any salvation of cold even as you continue to drown your face, your hair, your seething skin in cold water.

Your body reacted in the worst possible ways, taking every inch of your willpower to not lash out at your family members as they fussed over you in complete and utter worry, turning up the AC to arctic like degrees as they all bundled underneath quilts and heavy sweaters as the rain pattered harshly against the metal roofing.

It took an angry snarl, snapping from your teeth clacking together aggressively in the general direction of your family as their constant pacing, their buzzing over your conditions that they had finally settled. Tried to act like you weren't being tortured by your own cells, membranes, nerves and veins.

Your muscles cramped on multiple occasions in their adjustment and every time, Sam would be through the screen door, speaking loudly over the crashing of thunder and lightning, spouting off nonsense to assure you that, 'it gets better with time, it'll pass, focus on what it feels like to transform back faster'.

And you would cry out to him in rage, telling him to leave, go back home, to shut up, that this was his fault, his doing, and, for a moment, you seemed to scare yourself with just how animalistic your words were, sounding more like a literal wolf than actual human speech.

He was wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong. 

All wrong.

This shouldn't be happening.

With nothing to help ease the pain, you'd found yourself, wrenching the knob of the faucet off of the handle and it had shattered with a small zap that you felt against your searing hands.

Again, your body convulsed, your muscles twitched and you heard a shriek in your ears at the piercing stab, the fire that licked your insides in a vicious inferno.

You sat against the flooring of the tub, breathing quick and wheezy, knees bent upward as your arms wrapped around yourself.

Hot. Hot. Hot.

It was always hot.

It was so hot.

So fucking hot that you didn't hear the slight creak of the door opening. Or the light footsteps that moved behind you.

Burning, burning, burning. 

The freezing water felt like pebbles poking at your flesh until you could feel the fat beneath your skin being boiled.

You swallowed thickly, hard around the growl gathering in your throat.

Though you were drowning in what would normally feel comfortable and ease the fever swelling your skin, leaving it hot to the touch, instead it felt the same; you held no relief.

But this had worked before, or the pain eased enough that you were able to think without feeling your mind split.

On those occasions, you'd have a single moment of coherent thought before your body began trembling from an aching heat that came over you like a summer fog.

Last night had been the worst of it. Unbearable. Intense. It made your stomach do flips, threatening to spill out what little contents there were. Not even two hours ago you retched up a gallon of stomach acid, black tar-like muck. You shook through another shiver.

Ceramic shards clung to your nails like glue.

You had no care for them as you pressed your face into your knees, hoping, yearning that the water from the shower would return you back to how things were. How they should be. Normal. 

A body that wasn't sore, seething. Uncomfortable.

Normal skin. That didn't catch every hue of light in the bathroom or smelled like nothing but the strong detergent used to wash away the bloody pieces of bark from the night before.

You remained with your eyes screwed shut, but you felt how quickly they blinked with need for more water. A need for something below freezing. 

You waited.

Hoped.

Prayed.

You wished so hard on your breath that what was supposed to be a chilled drip instead fell like globs of goo, coating your head and shoulder blades.

You waited.

Waited.

Waited.

Each second ticked and like yesterday, everything was loud again. 

You heard the shower curtain crinkle slightly under the water falling freely atop you, it also made an abstract splattering sound as it hit the floor tiles but no longer fell in waves of droplets like it did before, no longer providing the soft chill to your inflamed skin.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited.

For your body to cooperate.

To fix itself.

You shouldn't have had to focus.

Focus.

Focus.

Focus.

That's the one thing that rattled your brain, pulled back and forth between each, as Sam continued with that word; he spat it out to you like it meant everything, like it should have you focusing. Yet.

Nothing.

Your muscles had ceased in the cramping but you assumed that was the first step in returning to normal.

It was still hot.

Furiously hot.

A raging wildfire.

Tears swam down your cheeks, across your lips, dipping in your mouth and clacking against your teeth and you remained as a lump of nothing in the dark room.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

It wasn't the water that did it for you.

It was the loud, bitterly cold, small and circular patch of coolness that soon turned to multiples that struck you. You didn't feel it at first, couldn't decipher what it was you felt, but all the same, you tensed up.

Focused.

Focused.

Focused.

In annoyance, your muscles rippled and it put a gasp in your chest as the ice chips -or so they felt like- clanked in onto your back.

Ice. 

Someone was putting ice on you.

Someone was touching you.

Someone who wasn't Sam.

It wasn't your mom.

And they were speaking. 

But you couldn't hear. 

Couldn't make your ears focus just on the voice.

Couldn't force your neck to twist and look as the muscles spasmed beneath the movement.

You couldn't find who spoke to you as they ran their fingers softly along your back.

From your neck and spine to the small of your being.

You couldn't make out a simple sentence either.

You couldn't make out what had happened moments before, only that the water was ceasing and your body was scorching again at the lack, only to abruptly lower to a simmer when you felt something enveloping you entirely. Something cold.

Something that must have smelled familiar yet, sickeningly sweet.

Softer than the air moving around, swishing and swaying as the curtain slid back further.

Something soft.

Something familiar but not quite within your reach yet.

You could almost remember it but in doing so your head began to pound.

Everything was loud; if it weren't you were almost certain that it would be deafening.

But then, with the last drag of each blink, you could feel the anger in you being gradually drowned out by something else, something unfamiliar. An intruder. It made your body jerk, jerk away from the cold source of salvation, jerk from the very thing that was keeping you grounded and your memory on track to forming; it made you feel weak in doing so and at the same time, scared, horrified, but calm. It put you at ease.

Almost.

And again you could smell a sweetness that flooded your nostrils and set the hairs inside teetering away from the rot, the decay. Your body jerked again. Instinctively. Out of your control.

But the cold, the cold that you slowly came to recognition with, held you firm. Limbs they were. Your vision was clouded in and out but they were limbs. Chiseled, scarred arms that felt like an ice statue come to life. Pressed so tightly against you that you began to slack. You began to hear.

"There we go... That's it..." A voice cooed softly, a dulcet soothing tone that rocked through the room and filled your ears; smooth, deep and enticing.

You swallowed harshly, a snarl stuck in the pit of your gut that stung and left you winded the moment your eyes were directed upwards. Your sight blurred instantly but the more you blinked they began to regain life. The wolf of you was being pushed further beneath the surface and the whine of protest inside went ignored for a few seconds.

"Breath and just relax. "

It was him.

Jasper.

It was Jasper.

And this time you could get a better look of him.

There were two, thick lines between his eyebrows that pushed and bulged the skin as he stared down at you in concentration, as if he were attempting to figure out the world's greatest puzzle.

His pupils were a hazy gold.

Almost a yellow.

A pale yellow, mixed with orange.

Red orange.

Almost sunset like.

"It's just me. " Jasper spoke quietly. So quiet, so gentle. Unlike his kind. Something stirred and growled inside you but in doing so Jasper's shoulders tensed and his eyes were narrowed just the slightest. "Just me. " His voice came and wafted.

You hadn't the strength to pick your limp body off of him, only to relish in the cool feeling of his skin against you and when he saw the dark pools of your black eyes clear from the threatening growl the lines above his eyebrows disappeared.

Some sort of moment had passed, a moment where he seemed to have returned to a child-like manner and focused in on you to the best of his capabilities.

"You're burning up. " A cold finger against the heat at your forehead and you jerked back but not roughly enough to leave his arms. Though the wince on your face did. 

For the first time since your eyes adjusted, you met his gaze.

Slightly crumbled, Jasper's face relaxed as he offered a slow nod. "Healin' nicely. "

That's right, healing. You hadn't noticed that they were sore until he mentioned it. Scars along your face were slowly going away. "It shouldn't leave a mark. "

But what concerned you was how rough your skin felt. There was a sharp stinging as you slowly relaxed against him, and it stung like needles, and prickled like spines and thorns, the feeling was still dulled despite his cold flesh and the layer of cloth between his and your nearly-bursting skin.The white button up shirt was completely drenched, droplets slid off of the stark creams like shimmering diamonds.

"It's hot. " Was all you could get out, voice hoarse, grating against your tender flesh, torn and pulled in dozens of different directions. You wondered if talking was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Your instincts bubbled to the surface but never quite breached to the point where you snapped and growled.

"I know. " You heard the drop in his throat, the way his breath rolled with his mouth and he bent forward, hand to your forehead, through your hair, pushing the wet strands away from your face.

He watched you intently, gaze scanning for signs that gave hint to your pain.

You closed your eyes tight but his hand slipped lower, down your cheek, and coming to just about your chin. His hand cradled you, making a cold burning under your bones, under your flushed flesh and a wave of want spilled over you that you couldn't wipe away.

"I didn't know it was like this. "  It was a whisper.

Your jaw hurt but you tilted to look at him more clearly. It was his touch. His hand.

"This wasn't what I felt from you when you first changed. "

"This is the aftermath. " Another voice. Booming. Louder than his. Slightly indifferent. And both your neck and head pounded painfully as you snapped to see the owner. It was Sam. Standing in the doorway.

Your mind cleared. "You shouldn't be here. " You choked on the second word. Heard a rumble in your head but it subsided when Jasper's large, cold hand pressed firmer to your cheek, bringing you back against him.

He was so soft to you. Too soft.

Sam addressed you. Tone even. "It's forgiven. " His eyes cross Jasper's. 

"Just make sure the boys don't find out. " He paused. Thinking. Then. "Be careful. " He repeated. Sam turned to take his leave. His tall frame filled the doorway almost entirely with his size but you thought nothing of him leaving, as there was yet another tremor in your stomach.

Pain, a horrible stabbing type of pain, began shooting from underneath your skin like needles and for a second you forgot of Jasper's existence, forgot of your situation, and curled into yourself in hopes the pain would go away.

It was then you felt his hands encase you, one of your shoulder blades, the other pressing to the small of your back. His fingers dug into the bare flesh and you held onto that as you shook. He felt how the veins rippled the flesh around them and an ache came to him as he reached and tugged you up, the material of his clothes catching against the shower curtain when you finally, after several minutes, allowed Jasper to pick you up, your body pressed entirely to his, and he whispered to you with his usual calmness, brushing away your hair that dripped, and gently told you to breathe.

"In and out. "

If it weren't for the fog swarming your better judgment, you might have found your resolve, snapped and jumped at the sweet gesture. But nothing was going to fight through the high fever, and aching, pungent sting from the very needle pricking every inch of your skin at once.

Jasper tried again.

"Just breathe. "

You sucked air, a short gasp and it was like broken glass sliding down your throat. Painful and nauseating but the moment Jasper's skin dug deeper into your body, holding you tighter than before, easing his embrace by stroking a cold hand along the length of your arm and slipping further downward.

"In and out... Slowly. "

The burn on your skin stopped abruptly and you heard him say "there" but it felt weird.

At ease, the moment you began breathing slowly, his cold digits like magic against your arm, traveling gradually, in circles, all the way up to the bend of your neck and just the very corner of your jaw, and then falling to your thigh and repeating the same motion. It was soothing. Like your muscles didn't know what to do with themselves.

"Are you better? " The voice bounced against his chest and you weren't quite sure how, but you managed to nod, the action causing the world to spin. Jasper nodded back at you, gaze in that constant look of concern, as if he'd never been worried a day in his life. "Do you want to stay here or do you want me to take you somewhere else?"

A low and rather aggressive growl surfaced in the back of your throat and you felt your limbs all come to a standstill and tremble. Jasper's body tensed as he looked to you. All the muscles that were massaging the sting in your body hardened, no longer soft as you wanted.

"Alright, " his eyes didn't waver from you and the golden depths had you staring, he swallowed and sighed out a heavy breath, "it's just me again. Remember that. Okay? Only me. " His voice rumbled his chest and made you feel comfortable again, easy, the boiling in your bones all began to settle.

Still, that anger you felt inside continued with that growl that made him ever so tense, ever so weary. You could feel his body lean back, situating into the curve of the tub. "I'm alone. " Jasper whispered now, lowering his head to yours, cheek to your forehead and your eyelids slid half-way down, pupils dilating just the slightest, "Breathe. " He said. "Deeply. " The tip of his cold nose brushed along the space of your skull and for a moment it appeared as if he contemplated his actions but continued on.

There you could smell the strength of his scent with an underlying sweetness to his dead flesh, the scent of a vampire; still, you didn't jump or shove him off. And he exhaled the biggest breath you had ever seen a vampire take.

He did this several times, took several deep, calming breaths. As if it were to sedate your beast within, that monstrous, ravenous hunger that lay buried beneath the confines of your now flesh and bones, but far beyond control of your own.

Eventually you caught the air without it stabbing into your lungs like those needles and his arm moved to become wrapped, almost entirely, completely around your chest, and pulling you firmer to him, moving from the crook of the bath to the center of the room, sliding in a motion so inhuman and smooth, past the wash rack and the closet, to the wall, leaning your sore back against the plaster. You leaned. Not just leaned, but collapsed against him as your body relaxed.

So strange, so inhumane and entirely disgusting at the fact that a vampire, an immortal, the vilest, putrid stench to nature, could make you feel so comforted, so tranquil, and ease all the pains you had felt.

As if the moon had begun shifting its cycle of phases while in his arms, you found yourself staring into his eyes, watching the shadows of darkness become your savior.

The pressure in your head was gone, the aching and pinching in your bones were coming to a comfortable stand still, leaving you numb in parts, and full of an incredible urge to drift off into the darkness, where you felt more... At ease.

Jasper's gaze swept over your flushed features and he slowly reached to push the loose strands of hair from your face, fingers caressing your cheek bone and over the prickled skin on your neck and slowly, down to your left shoulder.

Your collar bone.

"Is it any better?" A whisper to your ears. Rough, jagged along his cold tongue and you fought the urge to show your teeth back.

"Yeah. " It was the first word that came to you, coherent, but the word itself sent a sharp pain up the muscle and you winced visibly. Jasper's eyes searched your face once more but never directly met yours. 

When your heart began spazzing for his affection, you bit your tongue.

"Don't try to talk anymore. Rest. " His voice was soft and the muscles below your flesh rippled as he acted as a crutch on the way to your bedroom. It was at the end of the hall and to the right.

At the door his nose wrinkled, as did the skin along his upper lip, but he said nothing of the burning smell of wet dog.

His steps were swift as he carefully positioned himself through the threshold.

You stumbled to your mattress and fell weakly at the foot of it, Jasper's grip loosening and fingers unfurling from your flesh.

You settled into the cooled sheets and watched him intently as he carefully closed the door behind him. You only lifted your torso and crawled on your knees up to the pillows and got lost in there. They hid your flushed, irritated body against the rough surface.

Jasper stood for what felt like a long time near the door, standing by your closet and watched. You were too exhausted to think, it was nearing the start of daylight outside, and your eyes shut involuntarily, each blink longer than the last.

You were so tired but the anger persisted even when sleep took you. You dreamt not.

Unintentionally, you fell asleep.

For Jasper, however, he stood for several minutes just staring at your still body.

All was quiet and peaceful, the world outside was just wakening with the sounds of the birds, and the leaves were still, unmoving, but the air was dry. Just a couple of hours ago and this same place was like a cave. Smelling of beasts, of fur and musk, the woods themselves had a strong scent in this area, yet it changed suddenly.

To normalcy. And he wasn't quite sure how he felt, what the rest of the family, of his brothers and sisters, his mother and father would say when he returned smelling of dog.

The type of dog that sought to cease their existence. 

Their natural doom.

The very dog that'd nearly tore their heads from their bodies days prior. 

However, being this close to you and noticing the increase in hormones among all other smells, though, for the most part, the odor was horrendous, more specifically, that you were feeling better, not dying or in any more pain, was enough for Jasper to ignore anything else.

[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Dark!Mermaid!Wanda x Sailor!Reader

❀ Non-con, dubcon, Captivity, restraints, slight experimentation, shapeshifting! Wanda, the ocean, sailing on a boat, a storm, shipwreck, a little bit of violence, virgin!reader (she has never had a sexual encounter, period. So she is very innocent), Wanda doesn’t know human anatomy lol, oral (r receiving), forced orgasm, overstimulation, fingering, (this next part is major whump, so PLEASE heed the warnings) Sewing readers legs together for a punishment, holding reader under the water until they pass out, screaming, lots of screaming, making someone stay unconscious with telekinesis, quick acceptance, soft-ish wanda, some fluff, Stockholm syndrome, (if there is anything else PLEASE let me know!!)

❀ Disclaimer and Authors Note: The pictures only represent aesthetics and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. I hope you like this! The pictures go to their rightful owners on Pinterest, and the comic-style picture belongs to the beautiful artist Jenifer Prince. I also have a really big feeling that Mermaids' love language is gift-giving. Because… stuff is all they find lol!

This is for @eloquentreverie 's Dusk Till Dawn writing challenge! I chose the lines “All you are is a liar…” “My love for you is not a lie.”

Bright rays of sunshine reflect off the water, not one cloud in the sky.  The perfect conditions for sailing. You had been planning this trip for ages, and the perfect time has never been seen before now. Packing your bags was an easy task, all that was left was prepping your boat. Aphrodite is what you call her. The beautiful sailboat your father had left for you.

The sails are off-white, the texture of a canvas. In a way, this boat is its own form of art, and the beautiful name that your father picked fits perfectly. She was small, livable, and durable. It could withstand the fiercest of storms, waves, and monsters. Monsters, that you at least think are real. They were all just myths your mother told you about. 

Mermaids that left trinkets on the helm of each ship they came across, an octopus-like creature pushing the boats in the wrong direction, and even the ocean itself; a lively source of nature that will always lead the way when these malicious creatures have any form of malicious intentions. 

Making your way down to the pier, you are stopped by a villager, an older woman who knew your father very well. “Y/n! Y/n! Come here, I have something for your travels!” You hear from her frail yet powerful voice. She gently grabs your hands and pulls you into her home, making you giggle softly as she sits you on her couch. 

“Now, I knew I would see you today because of the conditions out… there. I have this for you, wishing you safe travels and return.” She puts a dainty necklace in the palms of your hands. “It was a gift from your mother, she had told me to wait until you were older, and I think now would be the perfect time.” She smiles as you look at the beautiful oval-shaped locket. 

“My family and I really love you, Eleanor. Thank you for taking such good care of us.” You smile up at her, closing your fingers around the locket with a picture of both your mother and your father. “Thank you, really, for everything.” 

She shakes her head, “The only thing you owe me is a hug and a proper goodbye.” She says, opening her arms for you. You happily oblige, wrapping your arms around her hunched body. She was like a grandmother to you even when she was just a family friend, but you most definitely loved her as a grandmother. 

“I love you so much, and I will most definitely bring you some trinkets if mermaids ever leave anything for me.” She chuckles in response and waves you off, sending you on your way to uncertainty. 

Entering the deck of your boat was a feeling of freedom that you had longed to feel ever since the death of your parents. It was difficult to make it through the day without breaking down into your most vulnerable form; A sobbing, shaking mess. 

Standing at the helm brought mixed emotions. You were finally here. You were finally able to feel like the woman your mother described you as. “You are a brave, independent, beautiful girl Y/n. You will do amazing things one day. That may be tomorrow or ten years from now. But amazing things they will be.”

Those words stuck with you from the day she died. Those words were what drove you to sail alone after all these years. She told you that you were brave, and that was all it took to motivate you to learn, grow, and persevere in your passion for sailing. 

Now all you had to do was make sure you had enough food, water, and supplies in the cockpit, untie the sails, and mark the coordinates on your map. Once those subjects were taken care of, the last was to untie Aphrodite from the pier and raise the anchor and you are all good to go!

With the small gusts of winds every now and then, it would take about 6 to 7 hours for you to make it to your destination. That is if there is no storm, headwind, or pirates that you have to worry about. Crossing Captain Barnes is on your list of “most feared encounters” and you could not imagine getting stuck with him, let alone see him. Rumors say he lost his arm to the Kraken and used the gold from a found treasure to make a new arm. A much more dangerous one than he already had. 

The thought of seeing him gives you chills in of itself, so you decide to put your mind to something else. You begin to steer the boat in the direction of your destination, your blue navy-themed sailing dress your mother made you flowing in the wind. You smile as the smell of salt and cold water fills your nose, the ocean and wind guiding you in the right direction.

~~~~~~~~ 3 hours later ~~~~~~~~

The clouds had come out of nowhere, casting a large, dark shadow over Aphrodite. The wind was skin-biting and strong, the waves getting unruly as she becomes angry with something. What? You had no idea. You had prepared for this, but the worst thing that could happen happened. 

As you put on your dark blue cloak to keep warm, a large wave crashed over your boat. With much luck, Aphrodite held strong and pulled back up from the water. Raindrops soaked your clothes as well as waves that rolled over the surface of your boat. As you were pulling on the sails, you froze in fear. A colossal wave formed. Bigger than anything you have seen, towering over you. At this point, you knew your fate and you fully accepted it. 

As the wave crashed over your boat, the water engulfed you into a frigid and bitter hug. The sheer force of this wave cracked your beautiful boat in two, ripped the sails a part as if it was cut by scissors, and lastly shredded your near-perfect map to shreds. It was a saddening sight to see to anyone on the outside. 

As your vision fades to black, numbness takes over your system and you are finally at rest. 

Or so you thought. 

“Is she ok? She- Oh she’s breathing! She looks ok, just a little roughed up.” 

‘Squawk!’

“She’s a human! She’s beautiful, she looks so cute in this little dress of hers.”

‘Squawk!’

“Can we keep her?”

A pause…

“Let's bring her inside, but we have to make sure she doesn’t escape. Grab some of the rope from her boat, that will hold her.” 

“She scared? She scared?” The animal squawked. 

“For certain…”

The voices were faded and muffled, and you felt like you were held in a bubble. Everything was quiet. The voices were smooth, siren-like, minus the power. There was something dark in the woman’s voice that hovered over you. There was something in her voice that sounded almost… dark and evil. As if she had malicious intentions with you. 

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of waves crashing against the sand, but you were not on the beach anymore. You were in a cave, a dark, cold, dreary cave. With a pounding in your head, you moved your hand to your temple. Well, tried to. You look to your left, letting your eyes get used to the darkness and you see rings of rope around your wrist, holding you to a rusty bed frame. Looking to your right you see the same.

Struggling was your first instinct, but you were frozen in place. It was fear taking over your body and you didn’t know what else to do. There wasn’t much you could do in your state. It was so cold, and you couldn’t find a way to get warm. 

“H-hello?” Your voice echoes in the abyss of the dark cave in front of you and you have yet to hear anything other than that. But moments later, other voices fill the cavern's echos. 

“I wonder when she will wake up, oh I sure hope it’s soon.” One voice said. Were they talking about me? You think to yourself. 

“Well, when she does, it will be quite the surprise don’t you think?” That voice, it was the voice that sounded evil… 

In an instant, the dark cave was filled with lowly lit torches. From what you could see was a room full of different trinkets, a makeshift vanity with a sea-glass mirror, shelf portions of the cave filled with sea shells, and lastly her.

A beautiful woman walks into the cave carrying what looks to be wood, sail rope, some canvas sails, and cloth. It took you a moment to realize that these were parts of Aphrodite. Your precious boat. 

“Ah, she’s awake.” The woman says to her accomplice, a parrot on her shoulder. 

“Awake! Awake! Awake! Awake!” The parrot responds, making the woman let out a soft chuckle. 

“Please, let me go!” You plead. 

“No, you are mine now and I get to do what I please,” She gives you a smug smile and sets her trinkets and shells down on her vanity. You watch her carefully, salty tears falling down your cheeks as you pull at the ropes around your wrists. “There is no coming out of those ropes, darling. I know how to tie a good knot” She emphasizes the ’t’, making you jump slightly in response. 

“Such a curious creature humans are. They move around on these water contraptions just to go see another piece of land. Can you imagine that?” She says, chuckling at her own question. “Well of course you can, you were doing just that!” She moves towards the makeshift seaweed and canvas bed and sits on the edge. 

“I have yet to see a real human up close and see what they are really like. How much pain and torture they can take, just like my sisters had to endure.” 

Her intentions scared you, and her smirk told you that she already knew that. “P-please don’t hur-” she cut you off with a laugh and a mockery of your fear. 

“Puh puh puh, please! Oh don’t be so cute, I love hearing screams of fear…” She leans close to your face, her tongue sliding against your cheek and picking up a tear. “Mmmm, tastes so good. I can’t wait to taste the rest of you.” You whimper as her eyes turn bright red and before you know it, the clothes are ripped from your body leaving you nude, cold, and exposed. You flail your feet attempting to kick her, but she quickly pins them down and wraps more rope around them, connecting them to the bed posts at the bottom.

She shakes her head at your action and gently slides her fingers over your now exposed belly, “Nuh uh, none of that. We don’t need anyone else to get hurt, right?” You shiver in response, making her smile grow even bigger. “Oh, so you feel me…” She realizes and she runs her fingers up your belly, and to the valley of your breasts. 

Your reactions are very minimal at first, but then she starts going in other directions. “Hmm, I have little buttons like these too, I wonder what yours do?” She moves and grazes her fingers over your nipple, making you shudder. A new feeling has come to you, and the woman takes note. “Ah, how interesting. This little bud of skin is much more sensitive than the skin over here…” She does the same motion of rolling her fingers but with just a small section of skin from your breast. 

“What if we do both?” She inquires, moving both her hands above your breasts. Taking both nipples in her fingers, she smiles at your reaction of curling in on yourself. The little noises you make are what set her off. “Wow, how amazing,” She whispers, smirking at your reaction. As you whine and shake your body slightly, you try to get her off of you, but she is just pulled towards you again. 

“Someone is a little feisty,” She slaps your breast harshly and you yelp in pain. She chuckles and stands up. “Now let me introduce myself. I am Wanda, and as you can see I take the shape of a human, like you. But I am nothing of the kind. I have morals.” She pauses, and moves between your spread-open legs. “When I got the ability to use my shapeshifting power, I first wanted to try to be human. Just to see what it feels like to walk and run. I liked it at first, but then came this feeling that I can’t describe. It is like a fire was lit right here,” she puts her hand just above your lower regions, goosebumps pebbling at the touch of her skin on yours.

“There was nothing I could do to put it out. So I explored down there… I have a button down there just like up here,” She rolls your nipples in her fingers once again, making you whine in protest. “Oh, my Poseidon… it felt heavenly when I rubbed it just right. I thought the feeling would never end! But then it did… it felt like I exploded. It was like getting caught in a wave, only to fall back down into warm water again.” She smiles down at you from her spot between your legs. 

“I want to see if you feel it too.” She smirks and you whimper as you pull at the restraints around your limbs. Dismissing you, her fingers spread your slick petals and she gently rubs around the top of your pussy. A soft moan emits from your mouth and she gasps. “Oh, I think I found your button too,” Wanda continues to rub your clit, loving every single reaction from your mouth. With curiosity, she pokes at your entrance with her fingers. When she enters her fingers into your wet cunt, the moan from your mouth is beautiful. 

“That was beautiful, I need to see more!” She exclaims and starts to move her fingers in and out of your hole while rubbing your clit. With never feeling these things before, you are like an exposed nerve and are oh, so, sensitive. 

You soon start to feel what she was describing, the fire, the riding up the wave, and after seconds, the falling from that wave and into warm water. As you cum, she smiles at the feeling of your walls clenching around her fingers. “It feels nice, doesn’t it…” she states, not addressing it as a question. You vigorously shake your head, denying her. She smirks, knowing deep down you absolutely love it. 

The ropes burn your limbs and you were tired. But Wanda was far from done. She had so much more planned as she was infatuated with your pussy and how it pulsed around her fingers. “Should we see how many more of these little episodes we can see today?” 

“N-no! No, please no more, I- I want to go home, please,” You beg, knowing deep down you most likely won’t make it out of here. Not without a fight. Already you were scheming how you could possibly escape her, but your thoughts were shut down as Wandas' fingers intruded your hole at a fast rate. Her fingers moved in and out of your cunt, a burning feeling bubbling inside of you once again. 

“Oh, you’re so wet down here, little one. I swear if I go too fast, there may be a tidal wave coming at me.” She smirks at her words, not slowing her pace as she curls her fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your moans were music to her ears, like putting a sea shell to one's ear and hearing the beauty of the ocean on the other side. 

Failing miserably, you try to quiet your moans. But the feelings are just too intense for you to handle. She leans down as she continues to pump her fingers inside of you and smiles as she licks along your red, hot clit. Your legs jolt once a more sensitive wave of pleasure falls over you, her tongue moving expertly over your little bud. Your back arches as much as it can with the bonds keeping you down and you try to enjoy your current state under Wandas' domination. 

In a matter of seconds, you are crumbling at the feel of Wandas' three fingers inside of you as well as her tongue licking your clit over and over again. Cumming a second time was even more of an experience. You saw white as your orgasm came crashing over you once again. Whimpers come out of your mouth as tears are falling down your cheeks. It’s too much, and your cunt feels like it's on fire. 

Finally, Wanda has had enough, and she lets out a sigh as she looks down at your abused petals. “Aw, look how red you are. You must be so sensitive, hm?” She chuckles at your fucked out sounds as she grazes your clit with the back of a finger, your hips pulling away in retaliation. You whimper as she suddenly stands up, her other fingers leaving your hole in an instant. You shudder at the emptiness, letting out a sob as your emotions take control of your body again. 

“Sweetheart, don’t cry, we have just barely begun.” Her smile is malicious and full of evil. There is nothing welcoming about her smile, almost like the waxing gibbous, right before a full moon. Only a sliver of a smile of the night sky, then the werewolves come out. Her teeth were sharp but smooth enough to look human. But she was far from human.

You found out she was a mermaid while she let you roam the beach a little bit. All she gave you for clothing was a paper bag-type dress made out of the canvas of your sails, and a rope around your middle as a belt. She took the chains from the anchor of your boat and kept it around your ankle, the other end under a very heavy bolder that she moved with her powers. 

While you stayed on the beach, chained to the rock that gave you the shade you needed, Wanda was hunting. There was a little bit of forest above the cave you both took shelter in, but she warned you to never go in there. Well, not without her. You were curious as to know if there was danger, or if she just didn’t want you out of her sight. But it was easy to say, she did not want you going anywhere. 

Sitting on the beach was the little bit of freedom that you looked forward to every day. One hundred and eighty-two (182) days of being in Wandas' captivity. You learned on day seven (7) to never run away from her. She will make everything hurt. She will take everything away from you if you try to take yourself away from her. 

On day seven (7), you found a way to rub the chain links together and break the loop off of your foot. Making sure she was in the water, you made a run for it on the wet sand of the beach. Trying to go around the island and then out into the ocean was your goal. Wanda sensed you were gone the second the chain broke. It was no use trying to swim away from a mermaid. 

She caught up with you in a matter of seconds, her webbed tail making her swim much faster than you; A mere human. She grabbed your ankle from underneath the water, dragging you down to the ocean floor. Not too deep as she knows the pressure builds, but deep enough where you would not be able to escape. She smiled as you thrashed against her iron grip, your arms trying desperately to reach the surface, and the last few bubbles exited your mouth as you finally fell unconscious. 

Once you were out, she pulled you to the beach, getting the water from your lungs and making sure you are breathing again. She sent a wave of energy over your body, keeping you in an unconscious state. Picking you up, your head hung over her arm as your legs hung over her other arm. She looked at your sleeping face in slight disappointment as you were doing so good the few days before this. She knew that the time outside was going to be limited as part of the punishment she was going to give you. 

Laying you on the bed, she gathers a few trinkets she has found. Including a sewing kit. She looked over your body and stripped you of your canvas dress. She laced the rope around your arms and fastened them to the rusty bars above your head. Angrily, she stares, thinking of the things she is going to do to you when you wake up. She growls and pounces on top of you, grabbing your legs and putting them together. She takes more rope from your boat and wraps your thighs and ankles, rendering you unable to walk. 

Now comes the painful part; She threads the thread through the eye of the needle and pinches the skin of your thigh. Carefully she puts the needle through your skin, puncturing through the layers mercilessly. As she pulls the thread through the hole in your skin, she meticulously sews your legs together in an intricate zig-zag shape from your left leg to your right leg. Once she gets to just above the rope around your ankles she hums at her work, making sure that you won’t be able to pull the thread out of your legs, even if you tried as hard as you could. 

Waving her hand takes away the power keeping you unconscious, and she makes her way out of the cave, not wanting to hear your screams as you realize what she had done to you. Of course, she loved to hear you scream, but not in pain. It was never meant to be this way. If you had just listened and stayed where you were put, this never would have happened. As she transforms into her mermaid form, she dives into the ocean to cool off as she was much too angry to argue with you, worried she would kill you in the snap of a finger if you said the wrong thing to her. 

You started to come to, becoming more and more aware of your surroundings by the second. Once again, you tried to move, only to be stopped by the ropes around your wrists, but there was much more than what was done to you last time. You looked to the source of the tension of your legs and your panic set in. Screams of pain and horror echoed through the cave, tears and sobs were heard for miles outside of the cave, and Wanda was nowhere near where she could hear them. 

~~~~~~~

More than a few hours later, your sobs had calmed to nothing more than whimpers. Your legs were screaming in pain, blood dripping from each of the holes Wanda's needle had made, soaking the thread and keeping them together. You closed your eyes, hoping that someone would find you, help you, kill you. But your wishes were only met with more fear.

As Wanda entered the cave, she had a whole net of fish, more shells, and trinkets from the ocean floor, as well as the part of your ship you were going to miss the most: The picture of you, your father, and your mother. It was still in its gold-plated frame, the monotone black and white of the picture still prominent. “I brought you a couple things,” Wanda says, unapologetically. Setting the net down, she places a pink and coral-colored conch shell next to you on the bed, the picture, and what looks like a shell necklace that she put together herself. 

You did not acknowledge her in the slightest. From the moment she walked into the cave, to the moment she begged you to talk to her. She even untied your arms and helped you sit up, but you didn’t say a word. In a fit of rage, she throws your body against the bed, letting you curl against yourself as you try to undo the thread. 

“It's not going to come off. I put a spell on it, and until you talk to me, it will stay that way. Do you understand?” She holds your chin in her hands, her sharp nails digging into your soft, beautiful skin. You whimper in response, tears pooling in your eyes. A few fall, but Wanda is quick to wipe them away as you look up at her. She gives you a soft smile and your brows furrow. This smile is different, it's out of pity, and out of a different type of intent. “Please, say something…” She whispers, tears of her own filling her eyes.

“Wh-why did you do this to me?” You whimper, pulling your hands away from the thread and to your chest to cover yourself. 

“Because you ran away… I told you to stay here, and you disobeyed me. This never would have happened if you just stayed, and enjoyed the sun like I so generously allowed you!”

Her eyes close, and she covers them with her hand. As she removes her hand, she sits down on the bed and her eyes soften as she looks at you. “I never wanted this to happen, love. You are mine, but I never wanted to hurt you.” 

"All you are is a liar..." You respond, with no emotion in your voice, eyes, or heart. Wanda sighs and helps you sit up once again. 

“My love for you is not a lie.” She says, moving to the floor as your legs drape over the side of the bed. She unties your thighs and ankles, her hands glowing a soft red color. Your legs lose feeling for only a moment, and you watch in awe as the thread is removed without pain or discomfort. It floats out of your skin, and the holes where it once was were closed. “Please forgive me, my little human. I won’t do this unless you make me angry. You won’t be punished if you don’t do something punishable. Do you understand me?” 

You nod softly as the feeling returns to your legs. You stand up, as does Wanda. You stumble at first, but you slowly make your way out of the cave and over to the rock where your chain lay. You wrap the chain around your ankle and hold it up for Wanda to seal with her magic. She looks at you, confused. 

“What are you doing?” She asks. 

You sigh and you hold up your foot again. “Im showing you I can be good. That I can keep a promise of being good.” She understands and seals the lock over the two open links. You stand up again, and you make your way to the water. You have already accepted the fact that will rip the dress off of you when you get back inside anyway, so you stand in the sun, bathing in the warmth as you stand nude. You are grateful that the chain grants you the length to reach the water. 

The waves make you sway slightly, and you close your eyes. Your destiny has proven itself, and you were to stay captive with Wanda. 

Soon enough, day three hundred sixty-five (365) hits and you are smiling with Wanda. Happily letting her devour you every night to her heart's desire, as well as shower you with gifts and jewels she finds on her hunting trips. In a form of trust, you both agree to a collar around your neck. One that claims you as well as keeps you on the island when Wanda is away. It was a way for Wanda to make sure you were safe, and a way for you to feel secure in someone's watch. And if any pirates come to the island, it would notify Wanda if you were in danger. 

She loved to see you in the sun, the jewels around your neck shimmering in the bright sunlight above you. A bright ruby right at the center of your neck, represents the love that Wanda has gifted upon you. Every morning when you woke up in her arms, you felt safe and sound, and no longer in danger of her. Of course, you were never going to make it home to Eleanore, so you threw a bottle with a letter in it into the ocean hoping that it finds her well. 

Yours and Wandas' routine grew every day, her even letting you go for a swim. She would transform into her mermaid form, and you would hold onto her shoulders as she sped through the water at speeds you have never felt before. On other days, she would take you to the edge of the forest above her cave. She told you stories of the cannibals that lived among the trees but willingly agreed to keep on their side of the island and never venture past the river about a mile into the grove of trees. 

You would tell stories of when you sailed with your father and cooked with your mother. Wanda loved to hear about humans and the hobbies or skills you can acquire with the right supplies and practice. She was infatuated with humans just as she was with you. 

One of your favorite things to do with Wanda was lay out on the sand at night, a soft seaweed blanket underneath you both, the water reflecting the moon, and the stars shimmering above you. For every shooting star there was, you would point to it and give Wanda a soft kiss on her cheek, making her smile and return the kiss. That was a nightly ritual you both had and when the both of you had soaked up the moonlight for the perfect amount of time, she would take you inside and make love to you. She would worship you, and care for you. She gave you meaning in a world where you had no one else to be there for. 

She loved you.

Your keeper loves you, yet you love her too.

[the-void-writes]

“you’re so pretty when you lie to me”

Hello hello friendo 💖 So we were talking about writing more unhinged stuff, and thanks to you I managed to develop Aphelion’s awfulness more lol. Thank you so much for the motivation and inspo, and I hope this isn’t too unhinged 😅

For All Eternity - The Moon King’s Madness

Summary: Paradise Era— Will has been taken by King Aphelion Sapphirus, a Celestial who hates humanity. His delusions have convinced him that any Freak with strong enough powers are Celestials trapped in mortal forms, so he makes it his job to set them free through fatal methods.

WC: 3K

TW: Many descriptions of body horror (both shapeshifting and a vivisection). Also if you don’t like reading about people being held prisoner, or violent and manipulative love interests, then this isn’t for you.

Days flew by so fast that Will couldn’t tell them apart anymore. He would wake up in that miserable bedroom, with the view of freedom a million miles below him, and the minutes would blur together after that. Feasts with the Celestials, tours around the palace that he was meant to share, hours strapped to a table in the darkness as the god that claimed to love him tried time and time again to cut through his mortal cage and release his cosmic spirit…

Aphelion’s singular glowing eye pierced the darkness, the only part of him that Will could see, aside from the blazing hot blade in his hands. His voice scratched the inside of Will’s head, drowning out the ringing in his ears.

“I know it hurts,” he said. “You’re doing so well, my dear. If I can just get through this section of veins…”

The blade hit Will’s skin once more, filling his nose with the smell of burnt flesh. His throat was already raw from screaming, made worse by the waves of energy that tore through him. It was his body’s natural defense mechanism— His years with Vesely had taught him that.

Starlight cut clean down the center of his chest. The air touched his open skin with the grace of an old friend. Finally, the cutting stopped, and Aphelion waited anxiously. This was the moment of truth for all his hard work and research. If all went to plan, Will’s “Celestial soul” would at last be free.

That was when Will felt his insides shift. Dozens of little growths stretched and connected like the threads of an old doll. They twisted and pulled, and in no time at all, Will had been stitched back together. His saving grace, Vesely’s Infection— it wouldn’t let him die. He was too good of a host.

The air grew thick and warm as Aphelion threw the blade into the darkness. His yell shook the entire room.

“DAMN YOU, CURSED PARASITE!”

Tears ran down Will’s face. He had never been more thankful to be sick. His whole body flinched as he felt Aphelion’s large hand cradle his head, still invisible in the darkness.

“Forgive me, my darling… I’ve failed you.”

There were several long footsteps, and then he was gone. Will cried in the dark for what felt like forever before a group of Aphelion’s glowing handmaidens came to collect him. He didn’t remember the trip back to his room, only the spinning in his head and the feeling of bile rising in his ruined throat.

Finally, he was back in his bed. The handmaidens finished cleaning the new scar on his chest, and left him to recover in his room for the rest of the night. They never said a word to him, perhaps out of fear of the king. Aphelion had a bizarre temperament when it came to Will. He was as soft as possible around the small mortal, but if anyone else showed interest in him, the moon god had no trouble disposing of them. According to the sparse whispers of other Celestials, Aphelion had devoured one of their kind for daring to look at Will for longer than a minute.

The mattress consumed Will as he laid down and watched the stars outside. If someone had told him as a boy that he would one day be sickened by the sight of the cosmos, he would have thought them insane. His hopes and dreams of exploring the galaxy, flying among stardust, discovering new worlds and species… All of it was squandered each time Aphelion took his wretched scalpel to Will’s chest.

He tried to take this brief moment of peace to think, but his mind had been reduced to a handful of thoughts: hating Aphelion, missing Dante, and praying for death to finally claim him, to reunite him with his family. All he wanted was an end to the torture.

His heart dropped as he heard the door open. He leapt up and leaned against the bedpost, hoping he had enough energy to run to the washroom and lock it before the handmaidens could grab him. He was only due for one ritual a week, that was what Aphelion swore to him, the one promise Will trusted him to keep. Vesely’s Infection put his body through too much stress, so Aphelion had to stop and let him recover. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Will before he could be free. As horrifically misguided as he was, there was indeed a part of him that loved the young Divine.

Will’s heart sank further down as a pale, crooked hand pushed the door open carefully. Aphelion’s human disguise was far from perfect. He was thoroughly disgusted by humanity, so his understanding of appearance and proportions were approximations, at best. Discolored patches of skin were hastily sewn together, sagging and twisting around a nonexistent skeletal form. Space dust and starlight shifted under the skin, churning like water beneath his cosmically-decorated hanfu. He towered over Will, whose height just barely reached where the Moon King’s ribs would be. Pale pink hair hung perfectly within a series of hairpins, pulling it tight enough to stretch the corners of his face. It was a mockery of a human being, a suit that was designed purely to give him more time with Will.

“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice still shook inside Will’s head, with the underlying discomfort of nails scratching glass. “How are you feeling?”

“Do I have to go back?” Will asked, struggling to stand upright and not fall back into the preferable softness of the bed.

Aphelion smiled and mustered an unpleasant laugh. His eyes flickered with what Will assumed was warmth. They were less eyes, per say, and more two distant stars floating in the darkness that hid under the god’s human suit. Will could see the hollow sockets behind the light, two miniature universes peering out at him.

“We’re done, I promise you. Until we can figure out how to destroy this parasite, I’m afraid we’ll have to put the ritual on hold.”

Will let his shoulders fall as he tried to smother his relief. The last thing he wanted to do was give his host— his captor— a reason to continue his work.

“Please forgive me, my dear,” Aphelion said, confusing his silence with disappointment. “I know it’s insufferable, but by the end of it all, you’ll be free.”

“I’ll be dead, sir. I’m not a god.”

“You don’t truly believe that, do you?” Aphelion moved forward carefully, sweeping his legs like a peacock unsure of its steps. “If you were anything as simple and lowly as a human, you would never have survived this long. Your sickness, your isolation, the years of abuse from your father—”

“Don’t talk about him,” Will spat.

Aphelion smiled. “Forgive me, I know it’s a sensitive subject. We can talk about something else.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

The god’s smile faltered. Will braced himself for a swift mood swing, for the handmaidens to come barreling in and pull him back into the ritual room, but that moment never came. The fear in waiting seemed more unbearable than the pain itself.

“I understand your frustrations, you know.”

Will raised his eyebrow. “Do you?”

“You’re displeased with me. I disgust you.” He raised his hand up. “Please, I get it. These human forms are so limiting and fragile.”

“What?” Will shook his head. “I don’t hate your… appearance.”

The god chuckled to himself. “You don’t have to pretend. It makes me nauseous just putting it on.”

“Then why do it?”

“For you, of course. If I can’t free you yet, then I’ll bind myself in this prison of flesh. Anything to see you and make you happy.”

Will wasn’t quick enough to stop himself. “I was already happy with my friends— with Dante. He was my home.”

Tears stabbed the corners of his eyes. He missed Paradise so terribly, even the noise and the parties that never seemed to end. He missed sleeping in with the love of his life and heading out for lunch together before retreating back home to avoid the crowds. After years of heartbreak, Will had finally found peace, and it was taken away from him for the third time in his life.

He pushed himself into the bedpost as Aphelion stepped closer, trying and failing to avoid the clawed hand running through his hair.

“It truly pains me to see you this distraught,” Aphelion said. “A man like that was never worth your time. He never even came up to see you.”

“Because you won’t let anyone up here!”

“But he never even bothered to ask for you. What monster would abandon the supposed love of his life?”

Will shut his eyes and tightened his fists. He knew Dante better than that. This was a man who had gone into a heist with a fatal fever, all for the sake of the kids in his neighborhood. If he hadn’t come to bargain for Will, it was because he was planning something. Dante would never abandon him. He wasn’t like Dan…

“If your heart still aches for him,” Aphelion said, “perhaps I can assist with that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Watch, my dear.”

There was a sick popping noise, and Will watched as the moon king’s long form shrank and twisted. The discolored skin grew dark, and his long pink hair turned black and curly, until Will was looking at his love again, at his Dante. It was his beautiful smile, his golden scars from the Infection… but the glowing yellow eyes belonged to Aphelion, and the skin around his face was still pinched tight.

“What do you think?” he asked in Dante’s low, smooth voice. “It’s so much easier when you have a base to work off of. Is this better for you? Not as repulsive?”

Will fell back onto the bed, unable to speak. It was wrong, it was so sickeningly wrong. He could barely shake his head. Aphelion read the look in his eyes and shrugged.

“That’s alright. Mister Briggs isn’t exactly my style, anyway. How about something simpler?”

With the snap of his fingers, his fake skin shifted and snapped into plastic. Cold joints and wires mocked the human muscular system, until Will was face-to-face with the android he had once fallen for. It was a perfect replica of Dan, save for his sick yellow eyes. A mixture of longing and anger stung his chest.

“How?” Will asked. “How the hell do you know what he looks like?!”

“I saw him in your dreams.” His voice box crackled just as Dan’s did, but Aphelion’s tone still seeped through like poison. “I didn’t mean to wander in there, but your thoughts were deafening.”

“You— You were in my head?”

“Yes, and I saw how terribly he treated you. The real Daniel was a fool. We could start over, now that your mind is intact. I can be what he never could.”

Will clenched his teeth. “I don’t want to start over.”

“Fair enough, my dear. He’s a tad too numb for my taste.”

The android’s casing melted off of Aphelion’s starlit body, quickly covered by a new layer of dark skin. Glowing, predatory eyes shone through the glasses that now rested on his broad nose. Thick, coiled hair sprouted from the top of his head. Will’s stomach wrenched violently at the sight of Aphelion, whose cosmic form rippled under Colin’s skin, glowing like magma.

“Your first love. You cared deeply for him, from what I remember.”

Will practically stumbled against the bed frame, fighting the urge to be sick. He had almost forgotten how soft-spoken and gentle Colin was, but he knew these drawn-out sentences weren’t his. Colin spoke quickly and to the point, and furthermore, he never watched anyone with a look as predatory as that of the moon god. Will refused to look at Aphelion until he was back in his own ragged skin.

“Nothing?” he asked. “Is it the boy’s age? I know he looks young, but I’ve been alive for centuries, Will. There’s no harm done.”

“That’s sick, Saph— Sick in the head.”

“You were in love with him, yes? It could be as though he never left you.”

“You think I want that? You think I’m going to fall in love with you because you’re wearing my old boyfriend like a fucking ballgown?!”

Aphelion tapped a clawed finger against his chin, with all the casual grace of a man pondering his plans for dinner. He closed his eyelids limply over the hollow sockets. Will’s head buzzed and his stomach twisted— the god was reading his thoughts. It was so much worse compared to the warm cloud that would surround his mind whenever Dante read from him. Aphelion’s power felt as though someone was taking a fork to his mind and scooping out the insides.

“Ah,” the god said, “I’ve found something better.”

His body snapped and jerked, and for a while, Will couldn’t see much of a difference in his appearance. He was still tall and pale, still wriggling under false skin. His nose seemed longer, and his eyes were larger and rounder, but nothing too drastic had changed.

Then his pink hair grew darker, a deep wine color turning into dark cherry. Now, it was a near perfect match, like an old photograph that had just been misplaced in the wash, elongating all of the features. The only pieces missing were the snow-colored eyes.

“How is this?” His soft voice pierced Will’s heart. “Barely even a change, right? He’s perfect.”

Anger burned through Will’s body, powered by the sickness in his veins. In the blink of an eye, he lunged at Aphelion, pushing him to the ground.

“GET OUT OF HIS BODY!” Will screamed. “RIGHT NOW!”

A wave of energy burst from his throat as he yelled, cracking the floor below Aphelion’s head. The moon king struggled to gain his bearings.

“Will— please calm down!”

Will’s throat burned as he cried. He could still see Jason’s cold, stiff, colorless face as he laid still in his grasp. Blood and feathers and bullets littered the floor around them. The more he remembered, the further his powers forced the god into the tile work.

“This is for you,” Aphelion said, fighting through his chokehold. “You loved him, and they took him from you. I can bring him back to you, it’s no problem for me—”

“GET OUT!”

“Don’t tell me it’s not true! Don’t tell me you don’t love him, I’ve seen it! You love him so much, you wish you had died instead!”

Aphelion struggled in his grasp— Jason struggled, terrified of the man looming above him. An expression he never wanted to see on his godfather… Will quickly released his powers and backed up against the bedpost, leaving Aphelion to catch his breath— How could a god like him even breathe?

Will curled up on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He longed for the ritual, for the scalding blades that cut his chest open, anything other than this.

“Dearest,” Aphelion said, still in his stolen voice, “you’re hurting so much. I don’t blame you.”

Will refused to speak. A clumsy claw ran through his hair, and he was too tired, too frightened, to push it away.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I can stay like this for you, until we can finally set you free. It’s easy, really. You don’t have to repress your emotions. I’m all yours, however you want me.”

Those words, in that voice, were the push Will needed to slap Aphelion back onto the floor, hard enough to force him back into his original skin. Aphelion was speechless, grazing his fingers over his reddened cheek. Will’s stare could have shot clean through the Celestial.

“I hate you,” he said. “I hate everything about you. I don’t want to love you, and it’s not because of how you look. You can’t just hide behind the faces of people I loved. It will never change what you are— vile and wicked and cruel.”

Will rose to his feet before Aphelion could reach him. He stumbled towards the door, not at all concerned with where he was going or who would follow him. He just wanted to leave.

“Will—”

“Don’t you ever use my father’s face again. You don’t understand him, or what he meant to me. Stay out of his skin, or I swear on my life, I will find a way to kill you.”

Whatever had motivated him to stand up to Aphelion died the moment the god picked himself up off the ground and snatched Will’s wrist.

“Kill?” His voice shook the walls. “You think you can kill me with that broken little body? After everything I’ve done for you?!”

Will shielded his face in a way he hadn’t done since he was a young boy, cowering at the brutality of his birth father. He waited for the snap of a bone or the sting of a fist, but nothing came. When he opened his eyes, Aphelion looked mortified. He released Will’s hand slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “My darling, I’m so sorry.”

Will avoided his pleading eyes. “Leave, please.”

“Of course.”

Aphelion slinked out of the room, and when his weak footsteps could no longer be heard, Will ran to the washroom and locked himself inside. He let his tears mix with the warm water in the sink, porcelain cracking under his hand as he gripped the edges, tighter and tighter until his fingers started to bleed.

He couldn’t live like this, teetering the edges of both his and Aphelion’s rage. If he could only convince his Infection to seek a new host, or give up completely, then he could find a way to die before the moon king got his hands on him again…

Will slapped himself with his own bruised hand. You jackass, he thought, you can’t give up. You’ll leave Dante all on his own. He took a breath and treated his hand with medicine from the cabinet. Get a hold of yourself, find a way out of here, and don’t stop until you’re back in his arms.

[teddywrites0]

𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 (𝐛.𝐜)

summary: bang chan is a hunter. not an ordinary hunter, no, a supernatural hunter. his lover is resurrected from the dead, given a mission by the devil himself. (femdemon!reader hunter!bangchan, reunited lovers, lee know cameo, supernatural au, inspired by the show supernatural obviously. winchester brothers mentioned lol)

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of death, explicit mentions of injuries, mentions of murder, lowercase intended, let me know if i missed any (:

a/n: super hyper fixated on supernatural (the show) recently, its not necessarily accurate to the show it has my own little twist, so this is for my supernatural watchers (; (and those who just enjoy this kind of stuff lol)

wc: 2.0k

of course you knew this would happen eventually, you’d be bound to a chair or a bed by a hunter in no time. however, you didn’t expect it to be someone you were familiar with. someone who, before you went to hell and lucifer turned you, was very important to you. you wriggled your wrist under the rope leaving a burning sensation. “god this is ridiculous.” you mumbled. you were in a motel room, the man in question sitting on a bed in front of you, legs spread in a relaxed position. he chuckled, “you know it’s not funny to play with someone’s feelings, to prance around in her body. though, i’ve never encountered your kind of demon. hell shapeshifting demons? haven’t seen one on earth in centuries.” you shook your head rapidly. “channie this is a misunderstanding it is me.” he crossed is arms, “the only time i’ve ever heard of someone rising from the dead he was brought back by an angel; those brothers from america. lucifer doesn’t have that kind of power.” — “if you’d listen you’d understand.” you said gritting your teeth. “and why should i do that? all you demons do is lie, it’s in the job description.” he threw holy water at your face, steam rising as you felt like your skin would melt off. you seethed, “if you exercise me i’ll have to find a skin suit to use and i don’t want to get my hands dirty.” he stood up furrowing his eyebrows, “if i exercise you, you’re banished to hell.” he said in a confused tone. “you’re wrong. i was put back here for a reason, because i made a deal.” he walked around the chair in a circle, “i’ll let you tell your little story.” he said with a cocky smirk. he sat back on the bed, “a soul for a soul.” he scoffed, “what?” you rolled your eyes, “i made a deal to give lucifer a soul if i could have mine back, i just have to kill the son of a bitch myself.” he chuckled again, “see that’s why i don’t trust you, y/n wouldn’t kill a random innocent person.” — “you know that serial killer the cops are after? it’s not a random innocent person… it’s someone who deserves it.” his eyes widened slightly, “yeah the one who killed me.”

“so how exactly does this work?” it had been nearly an hour, you were still bound to the chair but you were gaining his trust. “if i kill him myself, i won’t be this anymore, i’ll be back with you and we can be partners again. we can be together again.” he thought for a second, a look of contemplation on his face. “how do i know i can trust you?” — “because it’s engraved on your heart.” you said through frustrated, gritted teeth. “what is that supposed to mean?” you scoffed, “don’t play dumb, you’ve heard of it. soul ties? god you’d think years of experience would teach you a thing or two.” he ran his hands through his hair, “so what? if our souls are tied and you fail this mission, i die? and you- you stay like that?” you nodded your head, “precisely. it’s a cruel punishment but deals come with consequences. i live for an eternity as a monster without you.” he began to pace around the room, “you shouldn’t have to think. you just have to trust me, the only proof you would have is keeping me here until you die. which is at midnight might i add.” you shouted. he glanced at the clock, 9:00pm. “do you know where this guy is? if you’re really you then you’d be smart enough to track him.” you mentally facepalmed, “i can smell a hell bound soul a mile away. came with the job description.” you repeated his words with a smirk. “if i untie you you’re out of the door right away, and i know how to track you if you’re gone past midnight.” you smiled, “you’ve got a deal.” he untied you and you quickly stepped toward the front door, you turned to face him, “see you soon.” and with that you left. you picked up the man’s scent pretty quickly, you ran through the woods and into a clearing. he was close, you couldn’t pinpoint where until you heard a shrill scream. you ran to the noise, a woman tied to a tree the same way you had been when this man had killed you. the man approached her, holding a knife to her neck. you held your hand out, using your new power to throw him at a nearby tree, holding him there. you ran to the woman, untying her, “run as far as you can until you find someone who can help.” she nodded and dodged through the dark woods. “what- what are you?” the man questioned frantically. “oh please you don’t remember me? victim number five?” you taunted. you stepped closer, the moon light cascading over your face. “but- but how?” you chuckled, “just wait until you meet him face to face.”

it was almost ten by now, you were having fun. torturing your killer, making him beg for mercy the same way you had. “please i- i’ll do anything, i’ll turn myself in!” he pleaded. “tsk where you’re going is worse than any prison you could ever imagine.” you lifted your hand again, “no please no!” with a twist of your wrist his neck snapped and he toppled to the floor. “i have to say if we hadn’t made this deal i’d love to have you as a permanent soldier.” a familiar voice said from behind you. you turned around, “minho?” you said with widened eyes. “relax im only using his body for laughs.” you balled your fists, “you killed my brother?” he put his arms up defensively, “no no sweet girl, but he’ll be pretty messed up when i’m done with him.” tears pricked your eyes, “i did what you asked.” he came closer, using his index finger to lift your chin. “good girl. now you get to live a full, happy life with your lover.” he put his index and middle finger to your forehead, mumbling something in latin. a white light appeared and forced its way down your throat, the darkness that clouded your mind was whisked away. your body began to feel weaker, “now, given the fact that you rose as a demon you were strong, but now you’ve got your soul. it’s going to be a healing process.” he said with a smirk. you slowly kneeled as your knees felt weak. your eyes flooded with tears and a burning sensation coated your neck. he removed his fingers, grabbing a broken bottle from the ground and holding it at your eye level. “take a look.” in your reflection you saw a scar had formed on your neck, where your throat had been slit at your death. “it’ll be permanent but then you’ll have a story to tell at christmas dinner. besides you’re a hunter, it’s kind of pitiful you were murdered by a civilian.” he teased sinfully. “let my brother go.” your voice now hoarse. “it would be my pleasure.” his head shot up and black smoke shot out of his mouth, floating above his body and plummeting into the ground. his body toppled to the ground and you hurried to catch him. “y/n?” he whispered with squinted eyes. “c’mon we have to go.” you pulled his arm over your shoulder.

you stumbled through the hallways of the motel searching for the room chan was in. the time was pushing 11:50pm. you found the room and began to bang on the door with your free hand, your other arm occupied by holding your younger brother up. “christopher open the damn door!” you shouted. it swung open and suddenly you both were pulled inside. you struggled to keep minho up when you felt a splash of water on your face. only this time, it didn’t burn. “seriously?” you said with a glare. “s-so you weren’t lying?” chan said in disbelief. “no time for that he needs rest.” he quickly helped you bring your brother into the bed, laying him flat on his back. “he didn’t hurt him physically but he drained his energy, he passed out halfway through the walk back.” — “what about you? when people rise from the dead it isn’t exactly unicorns and rainbows.” he said sternly. “i’ll be fine i’m more worried about him.” you said standing up fully. chan could finally see you now, he hadn’t gotten a good look at you since you were kneeling over your brother. he hurriedly lifted your chin, examining the healed scar in panic. “chan i’m fine, i was brought back by lucifer did you expect me to come back without my cause of death evident?” he chuckled, “god i’ve missed you.” his hand went from your neck to your cheek, leaning in slowly. “y/n?” your brother croaked. you rushed to his side. “b-but how? i thought you were dead.” he said as he tried to sit up, failing miserably as he groaned in pain. “you need to rest, i’ll explain everything later.”

you sat at the side of the bed watching minho like a hawk. he slept peacefully yet every flinch or twitch worried you. a pair of hands rested on your shoulders, chan knelt in front of you, “he’ll be alright, you need to regain your strength as well. you’ve been dead for three months i’m sure some sleep will do you good.” he joked with a soft smile. you rubbed your face with your hands, “i didn’t want to have to tell him about my job.” you began to tear up. “hey, hey if anything this is my fault. you wouldn’t be a hunter if i hadn’t dragged you along with me.” he held your cheek in his hand, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. “it’s not your fault, being in love with someone means sacrifices. if i have to sacrifice a normal life to be with you then i’ll do it.” you said seriously. “we can have a normal life. we can retire, get married, start a family. we know how to protect ourselves from nearly everything. if anything comes after us we know how to fight, but i promise, no more jobs. there are plenty of hunters out there to pick up where we left off. i’m not going to lose you again.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, harshly planting your lips on his. your lips moved against each other like they were made for one another. technically speaking, they were. you pulled away breathing heavily, “we should move to daegu.” you said surely. he chuckled, “anything for you.” you smiled as he pulled you in for another kiss.

five years later >>

you dipped your paintbrush into a dark green paint, carefully swiping it on the canvas. the beautiful country side in front of you didn’t even realize how much of a muse it had become for you. chan emerged from the front door, stepping onto the porch you had been residing on all morning. he handed you a glass of ice water before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “how many mornings am i going to see my beautiful wife out here painting the same view?” he questioned with a soft smile. you stood up from your stool wiping your hands on your apron and setting the glass down on your easel. “until i’ve painted every single new flower that grows.” you said as you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him with admiration. you were chest to chest, and you could feel his heart thumping against yours. you both could hear each others hearts beating rhythmically. “i’ll never get tired of that feeling.” he said with a satisfied sigh. you kissed the corner of his lips, “i’m glad it’s you.” — “it will always be me, my name is engraved on your heart.”

[crispychrissy]

Shifting Friends

Summary: You’re on and off again with Sam, but the elder Winchester always butts heads with you. What happens when you’ve finally had enough? Pairing: Sam Winchester x Shapeshifter!Reader, Dean Winchester Word Count: 1597 Warnings: Language, sexual situation, bit of angst, fighting, sassy reader A/N: After watching the most recent episode, I had this dream. I write down all my dreams and sometimes they turn into fanfics, like this one. Based on the several episodes we’ve had with shapeshifters, I’ve deduced what I believe happens when they shed their skin. I know it might not be accurate, but it’s personal interpretation. Beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology!

“Really, Y/N?! In the bathroom?” Dean’s voice echoed through the halls of the bunker, reaching you and Sam in the library.

You let out a heavy sigh and locked eyes with Sam. “Why can’t Dean be more like you, baby? It never bothers you.”

Sam shrugged and flipped the top of his laptop closed. “I know your schedule, so I avoid the communal bathroom, skip a shower, and use the one in my room.”

“It’s only once a week. Maybe I should just start going outside when it happens,” you said, wrinkling your nose in thought.

“As considerate as that might be, a pile of shifter skin near an abandoned water treatment plant might raise some questions.” Sam sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “The last thing we need is people poking around because someone is skinning people and they end up finding the bunker.”

You were about to reply when a very stern-faced and angry Dean stormed up the stairs to the library. You had this argument at least once a week with the eldest Winchester, and it was getting pretty old since you’ve been living with the Winchesters for over a month now. You and Sam had a purely physical relationship that started less than a week after you moved in, much to Dean’s displeasure.

“You need to do that shit somewhere else, Y/N. I stepped in it!” Dean shuddered in repulsion at the memory. “Do you know how disgusting it is? It felt like I was walking on soggy tofu covered in lube.”

“Well, maybe you should look before you step into the shower stall,” you said quietly before taking a sip of beer.

“That’s it! I’m changing all the door knobs to silver!” Dean shouted, slamming his hand down on the end of the table in the library, causing it to shake.

You jumped up to your feet and took a few steps closer to him. “You wouldn’t dare. Don’t fuck with me, Dean. You learned that the hard way when you kept replacing my metal forks with silver ones. Did you ever get the skin out of your bed sheets?”

You smirked at Dean’s obviously disgusted expression as he remembered when you’d left him a nice souvenir in his bed after he continued to prank you with silver.

Dean looked down at Sam with his mouth open and just gestured to you. “Sam? A little help here?”

Sam shrugged and raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t have a problem with Y/N. She’s helped us several times on a lot of cases since she moved in.”

“And I’ve helped you mess with Cas,” you laughed, “nothing like a confused Angel.”

You saw a smile twitch at Dean’s lips when he thought about when you shapeshifted into Meg and started making out with him. Castiel was a pretty good kisser for an angel and had very soft lips which surprised you.

Dean shook his head and frowned at you again. “No, as funny as it was, it’s still gross. Can’t you shift somewhere else or actually explain it? I mean, you can change forms as many times as you like without having to shed your skin, why do you have to do it once a week?”

You leaned against the edge of the table and took a deep breath. “You guys are the hunters, you figure it out.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine,” you retorted, “when I shift forms, the skin of the person I was gets buried under my current skin. Imagine painting a wall over and over again with different layers of paint. After a while, the layers get heavy. Same thing happens to me. The skin I shed is actually dozens of layers of skin from previous people I’ve been.”

“Gross,” Dean grimaced. “So the form you’re in now, is that some random person?”

You stretched your arms out and looked down at your body, shaking your head. “No, this is how I was born. My mother was able to suppress my natural urge to shift when I was growing up with the help of some kind of witchy tea. Once I was old enough to understand what was happening, she helped me control it. The perks of a pureblood, I guess.” You looked at Dean and furrowed your brow. “Why all the sudden interest in me?”

Dean shrugged and tore his eyes away from your skin-tight halter top. “No reason. You’re the one who’s been around for a month and hasn’t said anything.”

“Well, I’ve been a little busy having to watch my ass just in case you decide to prank me by stabbing me with a silver knife.” You crossed your arms over your chest and raised a defiant eyebrow at Dean.

Dean scoffed. “You’re too useful to kill, sweetheart. Don’t flatter yourself.”

All you saw was red at Dean’s remark and that was the last straw. You walked over and grabbed a hold of his arm, absorbing his genetic info and body structure through your touch. His eyes went wide when he saw what you were doing and he tore his arm from your grasp.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Dean hissed through gritted teeth.

You flashed him an evil smirk as your body began to shimmer and change. Your natural eyes were replaced with Dean’s deep green ones and you began to gain a few inches of height as your face and clothing changed. Within a few seconds, you had completely shifted into Dean.

“Get out of me!” Dean yelled, grabbing your - or rather his - shoulders.

“I bet that’s not the first time a chick has yelled that at you, is it, Dean?” You closed your eyes and began to browse through his memories.

You knew Dean and Sam had been through a lot, but you weren’t ready for the amount of shit that you saw. From Dean watching Sam die, to his father dying, to losing almost all of his friends, all the way to him torturing and cutting apart souls in Hell. You opened your eyes and searched out Dean’s.

You felt your eyes begin to burn with tears as you locked eyes with Dean. His expression softened slightly when he realized you must have linked memories with him and saw all of the dark things he’s seen.

“Not pretty is it, Y/N?” He said softly.

“No, but I can also see the good things. You shouldn’t feel so bad, Dean. We’ve all made choices that affect other people, and nobody should be carrying around this amount of guilt. You’ve got Sam and Cas, and they both love you,” you stepped closer to him, “and do you want to know a secret?

He raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“I love you, too.” You smiled at him as his eyes went wide. “I was always the freak when I was growing up. I was terrified of accidentally shifting in front of people so I had to keep my distance. I had no friends and rarely left my house besides going to school. Nothing hurts worse than being lonely, believe me. You’re not alone, Dean… and although you’re an asshole and keep pranking me, it makes me feel welcome. It makes me feel accepted.”

Dean cleared his throat and you could tell he was trying not to get emotional. He looked down at the ground and shifted on his feet.

“Yeah, whatever. Easier said than done.” Dean looked up at you. “Can you just… like… wash out the shower after you shift or something? So at least it’s not as gooey?”

You smiled and nodded. “Truce?”

Dean grumbled, but he nodded. “Yeah, truce. Just please, change back to your normal body. It’s weird talking to myself.”

“Not your first time, though. Zachariah sent you to the future and you met yourself. Interesting…” You trailed off and closed your eyes, concentrating on the memory. “Aww, stoner Cas was adorable.”

You heard Dean groan and start to walk away when you focused on a specific part of the memory and opened your eyes. He was halfway through the war room when you opened your mouth.

“Holy shit, did you really wear pink satin panties?”

Sam choked on his gulp of beer and Dean turned around so you could see the slight pink hue of a blush creep up on his cheeks. You shot him a knowing look and started laughing.

“Hey, nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. I have a nice pair of blue ones if you ever wanted to borrow them and relive your glory days.” You were laughing pretty hard, and Sam was trying to hold back his laughter as well.

Dean turned around and quickly started walking toward the doorway to the kitchen. “Get out of my head, woman!”

You shook your head as Dean disappeared into the hallway and looked over at Sam, who finally allowed himself to laugh.

“Hey Sam,” you purred and leaned down to him, “wanna see those blue panties yourself?”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up and he shifted uncomfortably. “Uhhh, Y/N,” he cleared his throat, “please change out of my brother before you say stuff like that. I’m really creeped out.”

“Oh, my bad.” You let go of the connection between you and Dean and allowed your body to relax and shift back to your normal form. You wiggled slightly as you got used to your new layer of skin and put your hands on your hips. “Better?”

“Much. Let’s go see those panties.” He grabbed your arm and dragged you with him down the hallway toward his room.

Tags: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @ididntasktogetmadedidi @trashimaginezblog @jensen-gal @spnbaby-67 @feelmyroarrrr @donnaintx @potterhead1265 @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @sis-tafics @kittenofdoomage @ilostmyshoe-79 @sofreddie @eyes-of-a-disney-princess

[jaynovz]

Silverflint Creature Fic Rec List

And here we are again with one of my very specifically themed rec lists. Why this one? B/c A. I like how the characters being actual monsters interacts with the “being monstrous” through line of the show, B. I like horror vibes and C. Monsterfucking amirite ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril:

Summary: Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls.

He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

Notes: YES I’M RECCING THIS AGAIN, don’t @ me. It’s also on the soul-crushing rec list and it’s the first creature fic I had the privilege of reading for the fandom.

Rewrite of canon with creature!Silver and jfc what a fucking concept. Bittersweet as fuck but amazing. Never read anything else like it, treat yourself to the tragedy of the show’s ending with the flavor of eldritch monster falling in love and only realizing it after it’s too late. This one gives me goosebumps.

a beautiful, sinuous thing; a terrible, treacherous thing by maricolous:

Summary: Driven by grief, James Flint leaves the city behind to become the caretaker of a lighthouse in a small coastal town. But despite his desire for solitude, he finds himself drawn to a local bookshop owner, and haunted by man who seems to have strolled right out of the sea. But Flint may be less willing prey than this mysterious stranger expects.

Notes: Lighthouses are creepy and mystical places~ This one has a beautiful sense of place and mood. You can really feel Flint’s melancholy and isolation. Featuring sea spirit Silver who is stalking him for reasons of devouring. A delightful little story.

Stranger Things by medusine:

Summary: Flint has lost his ship, his crew's marooned him and he's nearly drowned. Now he's alone with Silver, who's never been quite what he seemed.

Notes: That good-good monsterfucking smut, plain and simple. It’s very sweet though. Kraken/octopus Silver means gratuitous tentacle descriptions god bless.

no-one by doomcountry:

Summary: Now, he is thinking of a name.

Notes: This one has three sequels, so check the author’s other Black Sails works. Sea monster/shapeshifter Silver. This series is bittersweet, eerie, a bit melancholy. I fucking love it. Super poignant, beautifully written. In keeping with the tragedy of the show... ugh, just go treat yourself.

groundwater by besselfcn:

Summary: He doesn’t think Flint can comprehend it, exactly. The vastness of it. There are limitations to the wirings of his mind; pieces of him that grew in the dirt.

Notes: A little smutty interlude inspired by the no-one series. Yum, more monsterfucking~ I love how the fandom all inspire each other :D

The Ferryman by RumbelleDearie:

Summary: When James first saw the body he thought it might be a siren or a devil’s trick conjured by the lighthouse to lure him outside on a storm such as tonight, to finally help him reach his end. He was prepared to find her face, her wide brown eyes. But as James climbed over the slick and irregular rocks, bringing the lantern closer, he recognized that this siren was real

His hand shook with adrenaline as he reached for the man’s neck, skin as cold as death greeted him until he felt the slow pump of a pulse. His survival instincts were renewed at the sign of life. James reached down to scoop the man up into his arms. It was lucky the man was slim and James was broad. Even still, his footing slipped as he adjusted to the man’s weight, his balance teetering as another wave came crashing against the cliff and threatened to swallow them both. James could see the warm glow of the lighthouse in the distance as the water cut him to the bone.

He abandoned his lantern on the rock, climbing over the black stones, unafraid of the darkness.

Notes: More lighthouses! So this one counts on a technicality. I don’t want to spoil the story, so I’m not going to explain further, lol. Anyway, it’s got the supernatural vibe that fits with the rest of these. Something about lighthouses and a grieving Flint is my jam. Wonderfully surreal story, really beautiful.

architeuthis by WeeBeastie:

Summary: what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger

Notes: This time Flint is the monster! Sea god, more tentacle sexy times. And there’s a smutty sequel as well! A good time had by all.

you will break the lie of men’s thoughts by depugnare:

Summary: “You’ve made me a monster,” Flint says softly. “I can feel it in my blood. My bones. This body is not right.”

Notes: Sea monster Flint and undead Silver! A little tragic and a lot aching--Flint dies and Silver gives his heart to resurrect him. Added Madi and Thomas goodness for my OT4 feels to soar. I love their monster love. Poetic horror~

the softest pleasure, the sweetest pain by brinnanza, jaynovz:

Summary: “You thought to hear our Song and pass unscathed?” the Siren says. His voice is deep, a pleasant rasp that is nearly as compelling speaking as it had been singing. “Such arrogance, Captain, and how impolite to take something that has not been offered as a gift.” The Siren’s smile widens. “And yet here you are, all trussed up and ready to be devoured. Perhaps an exchange might yet be made.”

Notes: Officially adding Siren Silver to the creature list! Weeee~ Anyway, a very loose retelling of Odysseus and the Sirens with lots of blood and smut and deathwish Flint. Written for MerMay 2021.  

Twisted Creatures by Aisalynn:

Summary: As he rolled to his back and squinted up against the sun, he had a vague memory of a cold, slick hand grasping his, of cool lips against his own. When he looked blearily around his eyes caught on a head of dark, wet curls, blue eyes and a wide smile with sharp, jagged teeth, dark as blood.

Flint blinked, and let himself pass out.

Notes: If you’re not following along with this lovely canon rewrite, what are you even doing? This one is in-progress and I wait on tenterhooks for each update. Sea monster(?) Silver (it’s still shrouded in mystery) sent on behalf of the sea to collect from Flint for stealing the name. I can’t express how much I love this story so far. This author is expert-level at adjusting canon to fit the concept.

Through His Stomach by notfelix:

Summary: "A cat would stave off the solitude, he thinks as he tears up the basil and sprinkles the pieces into his stew, not that he’s ever alone very long. No, there’s always someone desperate enough, always someone hungry enough, to pay him a visit."

James makes an impossible journey to an impossible hut on an impossible island, so that an impossible man might grant him an impossible wish.

Notes: This one is still in progress as well, but is infinitely worth digging your teeth into. I dare say the best dark fairytale take on Black Sails that one could ask for. Tess is in their element here with sweeping, grandiose language to complement the subject matter perfectly.

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If there are any creature fics I’ve missed, LET ME KNOW BECAUSE I LOVE THEM. Okay, enjoy~

[wof-reworked]

Here’s my application for @fireflythenightlight​‘s rp: The Underpass! Meet Leonas (Leo), your local changeling punk with a penchant for making potato-based foods, partying too hard, and making questionable life choices. 

 Big big shoutout to @wofuckery​ for drawing their reference, full ref and personality below the backstory and the cut ^^

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I wrote this at 2am so like,,, bear with me lol 

Leonas grew up mostly sheltered from other people for most of their childhood. With an overly-protective and very distrustful family considering of their mom, dad, and 3 siblings, most of their education was home-schooling (read: being turned loose with a bunch of books) and sparse meet-ups to see other, pre-approved families and their children. With their family being well-off and with enough books and entertainment to go around, Leo’s early life was comfortable, if isolated and slightly boring. 

As they got older, they began to get restless about being cloistered away, getting more and more annoyed and bored. After a good year of campaigning and pleading, at the age of 16 they were switched to public high school, much to their parent’s reluctant agreement. It was a good mixture of overwhelming and exciting for them, being able to be around other people and actually explore their personality/identity. They were unused to the deadlines and actual work though, and even as they got to making new friends and going to new places, their actual academic performance slipped, their grades and attendance sinking further and further. 

Leo was having the time of their life, but their parent’s got more and more frustrated and mad. With them barely passing their sophomore year, their parents gave them an ultimatum for junior year: Do this year better, or get put back into home-school for the forseeable future. If this was meant to incentivize them to get good grades, all it did was push Leo further towards resenting their parents for keeping them away from the rest of the world/micromanage their childhood. During this time, they also started getting more popular, learned bass guitar (badly), put a word to their gender (non-binary), and started spending more time sneaking into bars, and clubs, partying, and generally just becoming a complete hedonist and having a good time. They made it barely through junior year, and their parents were absolutely pissed. 

After a summer of yelling and arguments and sneaking out, their parents tried to force them back into their isolated property, the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Grabbing their clothes, a sleeping bad, their familiar and a few precious items, Leo took off to their friend’s house. 

After that, it was basically a slow sliding decline through senior year, until, finally out of high school, they began to try to make their way in the world. Crashing from friend’s house to acquaintance’s floor to comfortable alleyway to club bathroom back to friend’s house, they continue to make their way through the world, working odd jobs and cooking potatoes. Whether or not this is their best life remains up for debate, but they can’t really think of any better way to spend their time. 

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BONUS PERSONALITY + FULL REF + TIDBITS UNDERNEATH THE CUT

Their familiar is a phoenix in the shape of a large, slightly fat blue-jay, lovingly named Gnocchi 

They are a genius with potato-based recipes, and absolutely no other part of cooking or baking (the one exception is popcorn)

Growing up primarily around other changelings has made them extremely casual about shapeshifting: when they’re bored, they’ll often “pull” fingers out of the flesh on their hand and squish them back down, or mess around with their face/eyes

They have a natural aptitude for picking up small skills, things like origami or braiding, and have very good muscle memory: one they learn the actions of something, they rarely forget it. 

They draw and sculpt for fun, sculpting especially!! It’s not uncommon to see them fidgeting with a mound of clay in their hands, making little pinch pots when they’re nervous. Both those, and the braids are things they sell to make spare money

PERSONALITY THUS FAR:

At first, people are inclined to assume Leonas is more of the introverted type. With a calm way of speaking and a laid-back, relaxed attitude, they tend to exude a warm, friendly, and welcoming energy, a vibe that is, for the most part, well-earned. Leo is relatively open-minded, they tend to wait before passing judgement on a person completely, and are always ready to make new friends. One of their biggest talents is being social: Leo has learned how to switch from zen best friend to loud fun party animal effortlessly, and both versions of themself bring them joy. They’re energetic in a way that isn’t overpowering or annoying, and relaxed in a way that doesn’t come off as dismissive or spacey. They always hold a space for their friends, and while maybe not the best advice-giver, are exactly the right person to go to if you want to watch some television and cuddle and maybe cry and rant a little bit. 

That said, Leonas is a lot of talk without much show, while they’ll follow through a bet any day, actually finishing a chore, cleaning their space, or holding down a steady job elude them. They work in spotty bursts of motivation, creating interesting art and creations but that they can never follow up on or recreate again. Leo is intensely stubborn to the point of denial: if they don’t want to believe something, they will twist facts, intentionally forget critical details, and generally do everything in their power to feel like they are in the right. It takes them a long time to get their mind completely made up, but when they do, trying to change it is like trying to clean away the sand in a desert. They’re garbage at apologies as a result, as nothing is completely their fault in their head. Either their apologies are just them trying to get the person off their back, or something like “I’m sorry you feel that way” that refuses to take responsibility for what happened. 

Leo cannot be in the wrong. They refuse to be proven wrong, to be shown that they made an error or at all need to correct what they’re doing. Leo’s entire sense of self and identity is pinned on being right, on never being incorrect one. The idea that they could mess up, that they could’ve made the wrong choice, terrifies them to their core. They’re acutely aware of their own mortality and limited time on this earth, and the idea they could’ve wasted it or missed an opportunity is too terrible to ever indulge. This intersects terribly with substances, Leo may not have an addictive personality, but their refusal to admit when they’ve drunken too much, or that they feel sick or gross, leads to them pushing their limits to an unhealthy amount. While not a fully fledged alcoholic, their lifestyle certainly isn’t doing wonders for their liver. They have no self-preservation instinct, no understanding of when to back off and relax, and it continues to come back and bite them in the ass time and time again. 

APPEARANCE:

description:

Leonas has choppy, thick, wavy black hair reaching down just below their chin, usually tied up into a small little ponytail. They have pale skin with a smattering of freckles across their cheeks, ears, and shoulders, and a round face and slightly chubby cheeks. Their body is on the shorter and chubbier side (endomorph body type) and their body shape is relatively square/rectangular, with semi muscular/thick arms/legs. Their fashion sense is basically camp counselor kidnapped by a punk band, and their default outfit is a black jean vest with a handful of colorful pins/patches, a thick/long red/pink/orange tacky knitted scarf, a rainbow tye-dye shirt, and jean shorts with sturdy black, slightly scuffed combat boots.

reference (by @wofuckery​):

Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom, hope you love them like I do !!!! I’m so excited for this roleplay, you have no idea. I hope to see forms from all of you too !!!

[flirting-with-psychology]

What features would you want your house to have if you could avoid all the technical difficulties involved in building them/installing them? Are we talking things that actually exist though? Because a self-cleaning, spider-repellent house would be nice

If you had to describe tastes without using any taste-specific descriptive words, how would you do it? I guess I’d describe other experiences that the taste reminds me of. Or use sense of smell, since that corresponds well

What is the effect on you of having people physically nearby, if they’re not interacting with you? Kind of the worst of both worlds because I have to be putting on my public self which can be draining but I don’t get the reward of social interaction. Also makes me feel like I don’t fit in

What simple action do you wish most could be automated by a small device? Fuck idk

If you could change the color of your blood with no other effect, would you do it? No, because you can see the color of blood in your skin, it would make my skin a weird color

Do you tend to tell more stories about things that happened to you long ago or recently? Recently

Would you rather come up with the core of a brilliant invention, or find someone else’s design and bring it to completion and usability? Come up with the core

Is walking more tiring for you, or talking? Walking

Suppose a cat started speaking to you and you could understand it. What would you do first? Ask it a bunch of questions

When your mind is fixated on something, does it more manifest as your mind coming back to the same topic throughout the day, or being unable to change its focus at all for a long period? Both lol

When you read a book, does a fixed mental image (from a movie or illustration) improve or hurt your experience of the characters? Depends if I liked the movie version of the character

Which of “greasy, salty, bitter, sweet, spicy, bland” do you react most strongly against? Bitter

After you finish a good book or movie, how much do you want sequels compared to an equally good and independent book/movie? Depends on how it ended. If it had a good ending as a standalone book/movie, I don’t want unnecessary sequels, but if there’s more story to tell I’m happy to have it. I just don’t like sequels that are only there for the sake of making money

If you could change your name to anything whatsoever for one year, and there would be no social/practical consequences to the change or the name itself, would you do it, and if so what name would you pick? I’ve already changed my name

When you’re completely exhausted, do you prefer to be around people or not? Usually not

When you share responsibility for a bad event with a lot of other people, is it nobody’s fault or all of your faults? All your faults, but there is diffusion of responsibility

When you introspect, how much and what do you see about how your thoughts form, and how reliable do you think that information is? Idfk bro, I struggle with that

How would you decide what your favorite word is? Do you focus on meaning or sound more? I don’t have a favorite word

How much would you have to be paid to spend a week completely alone in The Woods and completely bereft of any belongings or trace of civilization? (you would be protected supernaturally from physical harm from hunger, thirst, and cold, but not discomfort) Maybe like $5000

Would you prefer to write essays by typing, writing, or dictation, assuming the tech for dictation were perfected? Typing

Brainstorm the design of a planet terraformed purely for artistic purposes. It wouldn’t be round, it would be shaped in a cool way

Would you rather burn to death over the course of an hour, or lose your sanity over the course of weeks after an accident makes you unable to see, feel, smell, taste, hear, or move? Burn to death

How much would you enjoy watching your life turned into a movie? I’d actually be pretty curious

If aliens came to earth and brought you to an alien zoo, and you knew there was no way of escaping or bargaining, what sort of accommodations would you ask for your cell? Comfortable living conditions, visitation, wifi

Imagine 1-way teleporters existed, but were expensive enough you’d need to spend a lot of time saving in order to afford one. Would you? Not sure. If it’s one-way, you’d still have to get home

What purely cosmetic super-power would you most like? Shapeshifting. I don’t really get what you mean by purely cosmetic though

Do you like doing things communally? Depends on the thing

Name two food items you’ve never eaten combined before but would like to. Hot chocolate and chocolate liquer that I bought in Italy

Rank {Oceans, Forests, Tundra, Deserts, Mountains, Prairies, Lakes} with whatever comparator you like. My comparator is how much I’d want to be there, and the rank is oceans, lakes, mountains, forests, prairies, tundra, deserts

Is it better to intentionally trick yourself into believing something false for a practical purpose or to intentionally leave yourself ignorant about something with important consequences? The first I guess because there’s a practical purpose

Do you feel more fulfilled when you do something fun for its own sake or in the pursuit of something else? For its own sake

How easy is it for you to tell from looking at a piece of clothing how much you’d wear it if you owned it? Semi easy. I can tell by the fabric if it will be comfortable, and I can often tell if it’s something that would look good on me

What is one piece of trivial knowledge you would most enjoy being shared cultural knowledge? Idk??

Have you ever seen something that wasn’t there, even as an optical illusion? Yes

When you tell someone something about yourself, what do you want or expect them to do about it? React and be interested in it

If you could load books onto a reading device with actual pages, would that be better or worse than a tablet? Better, unless I want to read in the shower

Abolish human-caused death, or disease-caused death? Human-caused because I think more deaths are human-caused than disease-caused, and because you don’t have time to get your affairs in order

Come up with an arbitrary system for dividing people into groups. No copying existing media! Everyone who shares a name gets to meet up

Is it better for things in general to err on the side of too simple, or too complex? Too simple

If you could send your current personality back in time to your past self, would you do it? (factual knowledge would not go with) No, because the factual knowledge is what would be useful. My current personality isn’t my best in my opinion

What would music look like if it were visible to you as music? Idk maybe like the notes? It’s hard to conceptualize that

Why is there something rather than nothing? Idk because the universe said so

[seokjins]

what is your magic (witch) au? i'm very curious please tell me more..

anon THANK U FOR ASKING omg i’m so excited abt this au!! these are just character descriptions bc i don’t have a plot yet (or a plan to actually write this out lol), but these are all the hc’s i have

namjoon + yoongi

they’re both witches! their official designations are music makers bc they’re able to conjure stronger spells using …. music …. lol. i haven’t exactly figured out how that piece relates to their magic in particular (do they compose pieces that become the spells themselves? do they get a power boost via certain songs?), but i still really like the idea that they’re able to draw magic from music u know ?? just bc namjoon + yoongi both produce a lot of stuff for bangtan irl ;;______;; makes me real emo it does

they are incredibly powerful, the kind that goes down in myths and stories and fairytales when they set their minds to it. they can raze entire kingdoms and set the the forests on fire and kill a thousand soldiers w/o even lifting a finger, or so the legends say ,, but they mostly bitch at each other and ride their stupid enchanted broomsticks everywhere bc they’re too lazy to enchant a chair and it’s funny to see monarchs shit themselves when they pass overhead their castles lol

jungkook

is a shapeshifter with magical inclinations! this means he’s not gonna be as powerful as sugamon, but he doesn’t have to make his bed or cut up the carrots or clean his house or wait for water to boil and can heal minor wounds :0

i was gonna be like “he can transform into a bunny!!” lol but nah he’s a wolf you gotta go big or go home right??

he’s got enhanced senses like sight, for example. sight, smell, hearing are probably the most noticeable for him, but he’s also unusually agile, so he can jump walls and climb houses and travel via roof hopping if he so wishes. transformations are whenever and wherever he feels the need !!! sugamon’s been training him in some potion making, since that’s less of a magical art and more of a physical one, and he’s been doing well !!

jimin

he’s a mermaid ,,, IM SORRY HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT OK IT’S NOT AS BAD AS IT SEEMS ,, he lives in the river and chills by the lake but can also handle saltwater for a couple weeks before he needs to go back to his regular abode,,, he’s able to walk on land, but he hates having legs since swimming is much faster tbh

he’s got the prettiest chrome tail and creepy ass gills on the side of his neck and his teeth are all pointed (think ..vampire Extreme) and he’s got that second eyelid film that scares people who meet him for the first time ??? + his skin always has a slightly blue tinge underneath it. he’s also got sharp ass scales down the backside of his arm that will draw blood upon contact, his elbows have smth that protrudes out of it (think the top crest of an angelfish, but weapon-grade), and he’s able to produce a note high enough & loud enough to shatter eardrums within a 0.25mile radius :^))

he’s small in human form, so lots of people try to take advantage of him bc he has a sweet smile, but he’ll still have it on when he kills u ,,, so. ur gamble my friends

taehyung

ah yes our resident pixie :^)) he’s got huge ass dragonfly wings and hair that changes color with the season and one of the brightest smiles in the entire world !!!!! literally part of his defense mechanism is that he’s able to blind people w just a Look ok his eyes turn gold and his skin starts glowing and before u know it,, you’ve literally been murdered by sheer beauty

he flies around everywhere ???? (walking is for mortals lmao) and is a nature based sprite, which means he spends a lot of time tending to gardens and wildlife, helping flowers and trees and plants grow !! he’s honestly not that scary, but when provoked - his internal temperature rises to above 500K, which means he’s literally walking on smoldering ground like the devil himself and one touch will send anyone up in flames !!!!! aka the reason he Glows lol

seokjin

ONE OF MY FAVES omg HE IS 100%  A FAIRY but not the one from disney stories Oh No he is beautiful as fuck w his huge ass butterfly wings (he flies around with taehyung) and they’re pink and silver and elegant as hell?????? he sings a lot and is generally very dorky, incredibly kind, likes to cook, has residual magic but isn’t able to wield it in a free format like sugamon & jungkook - it’s all an extension of his magical self

he’s  a fairy, but a fairy that’s a pseudo siren..he lures bandits/thieves/criminals/etc through the forest w his pretty voice & pretty face & when they’ve got nowhere to go, he turns on them & kills them dead lol. his eyes go completely red and his face turns dark and his nails become claws and his teeth sharpen out at the ends (not so much as jimin’s mermaid ones tho) and the last thing they do is shit their pants and scream???? literally (╥_╥) he’s terrifying as hell never get on his bad side y’all don’t want him to come after you

hoseok

last but not least: hobi is a sylph !!!! he works the summer winds most of the time, but he also dabbles w the other seasons too, really depends. he hasn’t got wings like taehyung or seokjin, but he can fly, so it’s a common occurrence for the three of them to go out together,,

he’s very sunshine/sweet/kind, but he’s prone to mood swings as the weather changes. he’s also incredibly, uncomfortably straightforward, not in the way that yoongi is, but the kind where he calls you out for something big with a smile on his face??and u can’t exactly tell howhe feels about you??the free wind spirit is really evident in his personality lol.

he also gets really scary when storms are around the corner bc his hair changes depending on weather, so it usually goes silver or black and his lips turn blue and the veins start pooling under his skin and he looks incredibly dead but his eyes are an unsettling shade of milky white and he’s very spaced out??? then before u know it he’s gone and ur running for your lives lol