#except when nightshade is crying

[alexanderlightweight]

Remember that scene where Seongnam told Uiseong that if Uiseong ever ascended to the throne that he would burn his kingdom to the ground? That but Magnus. (source: Under the Queen's Umbrella, Netflix kdrama)

@saeths babe I’m still so fucking pissed at losing the first version of this and I’m sorry but I hope you like this different, second version.

Also yes I fucking loved that scene and I’m still anticipating watching the next episode and i want that fic where Seongnam actually kills Uiseong and gets away with it.

—

Magnus moves his fingers down the smooth curve of Alexander’s cheek bones and lets the pads of his fingers linger on Alexander’s lips.

Some would say that the nephilim commander napping on his lap is Magnus' downfall, but Magnus has never let bigotry guide him and he won’t now.

Especially not when it’s the council of the Spiral Labyrinth, who appoint High Warlocks, who are suddenly upset with Magnus' choice in lover.

They’ve demanded either Alexander’s removal from his life, or the addition of others, to ensure that Alexander is seen as one of many, not as someone Magnus is devoted to.

And Magnus loathes it.

Because it almost costs him. Alexander tried to leave him. As if that would ever be acceptable. As if Magnus would allow Alexander to hurt them both so deeply, especially in a misguided attempt of protection.

So they still stand united, closer in fact, than ever before. And Alexander proves that, lying defenseless and unarmed in Pandemonium.

There are thirteen candidates for Magnus’ position in the running, and only two will Magnus allow to succeed his position, if he allows himself to be deposed at all. He’s made his thoughts clear and so the candidates hover around him, hesitant but trying to find weakness,

“Flaunting your traitorous ways even while the council offers you leniency?” Lorenzo sneers at him, drink held delicately in his hand.

Magnus threads his fingers through Alexander’s hair and tugs on the dark locks. Alec groans, arching against Nagnus and pushing himself into the touch, still unconscious, still vulnerable to everyone but for Magnus’ possessive protection. “I understand how those unable to touch consider it flaunting, but I hardly see how having a devoted, tamed shadowhunter is traitorous.” Magnus knows the place he’s claiming in Alexander's life, and the position it puts his shadowhunter in. But Alec begged Magnus, and after Alexander almost destroyed them both to try and protect Magnus — Magnus finds himself willing to do many things he never thought he would.

Lorenzo’s eyes turn to Alec, something almost hungry in his gaze at the noise and Magnus’ temper flares.

Lorenzo’s drink shatters, the shards disappear, devoured by Magnus’ magic even as he breaks it.

“Ah, forgive me Lorenzo. I realized I couldn’t allow you to drink something so… out of your interest. You prefer old fashions, if I remember correctly. And I’m sure I do.” The threat of Magnus' very long memory lingers between them before Magnus smiles sharply. “Stirred with an antique spoon, right?”

A drink appears and Lorenzo takes it, his hand is steady but his expression sours as he tries the drink and finds nothing wrong with it.

Alexander turns, restless and keening as his mouth presses in a sleep-lax kiss against Magnus’ stomach .

He asked, at the beginning of all this, how he could help. At least he asked after Magnus refused to let them break up. And in guilty relief, Alexander offered to do anything.

So now he lies, helpless in Magnus’s lap. Vulnerable to everything and everyone and relying solely on Magnus’ protection. On Magnus’ goodwill and desire.

It soothes something that the Council’s anger and accusations jolted loose in Magnus.

And so he smiles at Lorenzo, and silently daresm him to even try.

“There are many things I would do for our people.” Magnus says quietly, looking down at his lap, one hand holding a drink, the other his shadowhunter lover. “But I am not as selfless as my friends like to say.” Magnus chuckles and takes a long sip of his drink.

“There are only two that I will let take the kingdom I’ve built from me. And I will even help them keep it stable, protecting them for the future events that they are unprepared for. But Lorenzo, you are not one of them.”

Lorenzo splutters, yellow magic pretending to be royal gold flickering up and Magnus laughs.

It’s hollow and it’s angry.

“I have given so much for everyone else that I have very little left to care about. And yet it is demanded I give up my very heart, as if I am not allowed to have joy.” Magnus’ magic dances between them and angry red devours yellow, until it encircles Lorenzo.

Magnus hums and uses his own magic to press the newly made drink to Lorenzo’s lips.

“You’ll need it.” Magnus promises and laughs when Lorenzo chokes on it.

“You want my throne Lorenzo? The kingdom I’ve built with blood and magic. The place I’ve carved out for myself?”

Magnus laughs, and finally releases Lorenzo.

“You will never have it. I am not as selfless as the Council thinks. And I will burn both you and New York itself to the ground before I ever let you be in charge.” Magnus uncrosses his legs and presses his boot down on the back of Lorenzo’s head, forcing the other to prostrate himself before Magnus.

“I will burn this world before I ever allow you to have a place of power in it, Lorenzo. Remember that, as it is only my compassion and courtesy that keep you breathing.”

[achromatophoric]

Wednesday is returning to school after a week away for a family trip, when her car is stopped just outside Nevermore’s gates by a frazzled Yoko.

Wednesday: Tanaka. What is the meaning of this?

Yoko: I’ll tell after you invite me into the car. Please!!

Wednesday: Fine. You are invited.

Yoko lets out a relieved cry as she scrambles into the vehicle.

Wednesday: Start talking. And Lurch, you may cont—

Yoko: NO! No. We can’t go to Nevermore. Jericho. Let’s like, stay in Jericho until tomorrow!

Wednesday: Tanaka. Explain.

Yoko: Hah… soooo, funny story. See, we were trying to do this swank magic ritual that we found in the Nightshade library—

Wednesday: You’ll lose your fangs before I lose my patience.

Yoko: No one’s dead! Magic ritual gone wrong, but it wears off in a day! Think zombie virus, except instead of gross undead, it turns you into something… uh… better?

Wednesday: Better.

Yoko: *nods*

Wednesday: *narrows eyes*

Yoko: *gulps*

Wednesday: Tanaka. Where is my girlfriend?

Yoko: Oh! She’s fine! Totally fine. Better than fine! But we really should go, like, yesterday.

Enid: *distantly* Willa! Oh em gee, you’re back!

Wednesday: Enid? *goes for car door*

Yoko: DON’T!

Wednesday: Tanaka, remove your hand this instant if you wish to… to…

Wednesday stares out the window in mounting horror.

Enid: *growing closer* Babe, you won’t believe what happened!

Bianca: Howdy roomie!

Divina: Howdy roomie!

Kent: Howdy roomie!

Eugene: Howdy roomie!

Ajax: Howdy roomie!

Principal Weems: Howdy roomie!

Wednesday: What… what is even happening…?

Yoko: Shit! *starts convulsing* I-I’m s-sorry—

Wednesday: Tanaka? Tanaka!

Yoko: *goes limp*

Yoko:

Yoko: Howdy roomie!

Wednesday:

[beemochi-art]

what sort of mischief do the Terrans get up to? :-?

All kinds!

Twitch

When Twitch was first taken in she would cry a lot. Her screeching made it impossible for the rest of the autobots to sleep (except chromia).

Twitch liked to get into stuff and take things see deemed pretty, Ratchet would often find his tools missing

She’s in the walls… SHES IN THE GODDAMN WALLS!!

She scratches. And hisses. All things autobots don’t find appealing but something Scavenger encourages. The

She used to have a bad habit of trying to take off into the ground bridge.

Most of her mischievous behavior stop when she gets older. She’s still as energetic and curious as ever. But now she wants to follow more rules and learn how she better the lives of human, Terran and cybertronian.

Nightshade

Nightshade was an elusive Terran. Often being spotted by the autobots but nearly impossible to catch. This is how they discovered nightshade was very smart. The Autobots set a trap, when they looked back at it, the trap was completely dismantled, many parts were missing. So instead they just stared leave machine parts fit Nightshade to find.

Twitch convince Nightshade to come with them. They agreed but Nightshade was slightly aggressive towards the other bots.

Nightshade took an interest in Optimus and stated crawling all over him. Ratchet tried to stop that behavior but Optimus told him to lay off.

Also scratches and hisses

Gets frustrated and cries, they try very hard to hold back tears but it never works.

Nightshades inventions can be destructive. Trial and error is their motto.

They are generally the most well behaved Terran if not sometimes a little sassy. Very eager to help and learn. Especially discovering more about their species.

Jawbreaker

Jawbreaker used to be a very clingy sparklings. He demanded almost all of Kilo’s attention. Pretty much attached at the hip. Kilo didn’t have time to do much else and especially didn’t have time to spend with Megs. This pissed Megatron off greatly.

In the beginning Jb used to be deathly afraid of Megatron (for good reason, Jb could feel he didn’t like him). Leading to a lot of crying and Jb running to Kilo’s side. Megs often felt like he was being kicked out of his own quarters (because he was).

Jb is very big and would try to get into spaces he could. Often getting stuck.

Turn around for 5 seconds and he’s gone. Jb likes to explore. Pretty fast 💨 very quiet

Sure, he doesn’t have classes and isn’t the most destructive Terran but, He bites. Hard. Mostly when he’s excited too, so it’s not even him being angry. He just… does it. Lucky this behavior has stopped when he got older.

Special addition Thrash!

He used to be able to fit in the Malto household. But pretty quickly that changed. He’ll still try to get in and his siblings usual try to let him in (monstly Moe.)

He gets zoomies. Very destructive when he bumps into things.

Has repeatedly gotten stuck in trees

jumps off cliffs (also repeatedly.)

He can sometimes be a bit of a wuss

Home schooling Thrash is more work then Alex could have ever realized

Thrash is apart of the Malto family. He’s good but gets lonely sometimes. He knows something’s or someone’s out there calling too him. Lucky for the Maltos he makes it know before he goes out exploring in his own.

[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

Shooting

Word count: 2.0K

Summary: a free shooter is in Nevermore, and when you realize who it is you won’t be so Happy and you’ll be traumatized.

Warnings: the title says it all

Pairing: Wednesday X Fem!Reader

I got this idea watching “The Fallout” but decided to switch it up a bit, I hope you like it the same way I did!

———

“Hey Nes, are you coming to school today?” You asked your girlfriend. Recently she had been going in town a lot to solve some things with this whole monster stuff and even though you wanted to go with her, she specifically asked you not to get involved because she didn’t want to see you hurt, and you respected her wishes so you never insisted again. “No I am not, I’m going to weathervane to find out more stuff with Tyler” you nodded at her words as you both headed to the quad. You had to admit you were kind of jealous of the fact that she was spending more time with him than with you, but you knew it was just to find out about the truth.

“Okay, be safe though okay?” You asked her as you looked protectively at your girlfriend “you too. Don’t go in the woods” she said and you nodded before watching her leave with a car. Then you headed to your botany class and started listening to Mrs. Thornhill, until you noticed that Xavier wasn’t in class. Weird you thought, he was always present. However the lesson went by smoothly and at some point you needed to go to the bathroom. As you were heading there you heard a noise. At first it seemed like a phone that had dropped, but then it continued and you realized it was gunshots. Someone had entered Nevermore with a gun and was now shooting on students.

You froze where you were as you heard students start screaming and running around. Just then you realized, you needed to hide. As the shooter was getting closer to you, and you could tell that by the sound of it, you thought that if he was an outsider he wouldn’t find you if you went in nightshade. Right? You quickly ran to the poe statue and you snapped twice, immediately going down there. You were crying, you were panicking so hard and you just wanted to be with Wednesday Right now, luckily though she wasn’t there so she couldn’t get hurt, this was probably the only bonus. “Fuck, fuck fuck” you kept repeating in fear. No one was there except from you, not even the nightshade’s members. Were they all dead already? You hoped not.

You sat there on the floor with you knees up to your chest, hands covering your ears as you cried, waiting for him to just stop shooting around. You could still hear people screaming in fear and it was getting to you too much. Suddenly though you heard the secret door of Nightshade open and you stood up, hoping it was just someone coming to hide, but you heard the noise of the gun. You couldn’t hide, it was a circular library and the only exit was the door. “Well who do we have here?” You immediately recognized the voice, it was Xavier. He was looking like a psycho, gun in his hand and creepy smirk on his face.

“X-Xavier… why are you doing this to people?” You asked him. You were scared as hell but you were there now. You could either die or try talk some sense into him. You decided for the second option. “You? Because I’m tired of you people bragging around about your powers” he said and walked closer to you, you walked backwards in response and soon hit the library. “Please- don’t hurt me” you said crying and sobbing, but he wasn’t having any of it. “You thought that if you hid in nightshade no one would find you, right? Well that’s where you were wrong, (Y/N). This is the worst place to hide and there’s no exit beside the door” he said as he got closer to you, and you were stuck between him and the library, gun pointed at your stomach.

“Please Xavier… I’m your friend, remember?” You said sobbing, you were one step away from death, all it took was for him to pull the trigger. “Are you? I just used you to get close to everyone else so that I could do this” he brought the gun up to your throat” you stayed quiet at that, only whimpering and crying. You didn’t want to die. You were so young still and had your whole life ahead of you “Xay please…” you said whispering. “STOP BEGGING ME” he pressed the gun even more to your throat, you knew he was about to shoot, but then police showed up, thanks to Weems that had seen Xavier get in nightshade.

“Drop the gun!” Sheriff Galpin said. He immediately pulled away from you and dropped the gun, the police hand cuffing him as you tried to catch your breath, going into a panic attack as you dropped to your knees. Weems came to you when Xavier was taken away and helped you to your feet. “You’re safe (Y/N), it’s okay, you’re okay” she said and brought you up and out of nightshade. She took you to her office and gave you a hot chocolate to calm you down. She tried to make you talk to her, but you were refusing to as you were too shocked. She then took you to your room and once there you laid in bed and curled up under the blankets .

———

Wednesday arrived back at school and saw police cars parked in front of the entrance, as well as ambulances and dead bodies. She started feeling a little scared as she looked to the bodies hoping not to see you in between them and luckily you weren’t, and you weren’t even in the ambulances. She walked up to Sheriff Galpin “what happened here?” She asked him as she looked around. “There was a shooting in the school. It was a student from Nevermore.” This made Wednesday even more scared as she ran inside the school and up to your room. She really hoped you were okay. She was panicking, she wondered if you were alright.

As soon as she got to your rook she blasted the door open to see if you were there and safe, and you flinched at the noise, getting under the blankets even with your head as you squeezed shut your eyes, not having seen who it was coming in your room. “Please don’t hurt me” you said sobbing. Wednesday slowly got closer to you and spoke softly “(Y/N) it’s me. It’s Wednesday” she told you but you were still in a shock state and couldn’t help but be scared at the first loud sound you heard. You were even too scared to realize that she was the one talking to you. “(Y/N)” she repeated, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. You flinched even more, in your head you were still in that room with Xavier. Wednesday pulled back from you and decided it would be better if she left you alone, as of now she was just glad to see you were okay.

She also went to check if her friends were okay, luckily they were but when she heard about Xavier being the shooter, she got shocked as well, she would have never thought that he’d be so dangerous. She went to Enid to ask for Clarification about why you were so scared, luckily your friend as well wasn’t in school that day. “Enid, do you know what happened to (Y/N)? I mean, does it have to do with Xavier, did he hurt her?” Your girlfriend asked her friend protectively. “Didn’t she tell you?” Enid asked. You were her girlfriend after all, you should have told her. Wednesday shook her head “she hasn’t let me get close to her, I think she was in a state of shock. She kept repeating not to hurt her and she flinched when I touched her trying to comfort her” Wednesday looked down, it sounded even worst now that she said it.

“Well she was hiding in nightshade and of course Xavier found her.. he clearly told her he used her and he made her go back to the wall where he kept her stuck there and pointed the gun in her stomach, only to move it up to her throat to threaten her even more” now Wednesday was furious. She didn’t seem like it, but she was very protective over her girlfriend. “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to make him suffer so bad that he will even regret being born” Wednesday said furiously, but she calmed down a little when Enid told her he had been arrested.

Days passed by and you still hadn’t left your room or the bed. Wednesday would pass by every day leaving you some food since you weren’t eating, but you weren’t eating any. You had stopped flinching whenever you heard her since you had kinda gotten out of the shock state, but still you were too scared to even get out of the blankets. “(Y/N), you need to eat a little,” she sat down at the end of your bed “you’re starving yourself” you still weren’t replying, she sighed and looked down. “I just need you to be okay…” she whispered and her look turned to a sad one. It was like this for some other days until you did get up to eat something, but only when you were alone in your room.

Recently Wednesday had been sleeping in the same room as you, she wasn’t going to give up on you just because you were scared. She wasn’t the type to give up for anything. You had tried to sleep, but you were constantly having nightmares about that day, nightmares that woke you up each night and that would traumatize you all over again. “(Y/N), is it okay if I sleep with you? I just don’t want you to sleep alone and I want you to feel protected…” Wednesday asked you about the millionth nightmare that week. You looked at her and eventually nodded slightly and soon after your girlfriend was in your bed, spooning you as she wrapped an arm over you, bringing you closer to her as she also held your hand.

You fell asleep soon after. You did feel safe in your girlfriend’s arms, and you slept soundly for at least a couple hours, until you woke up screaming, because of another nightmare. Obviously Wednesday woke up too and she immediately searched for her eyes. “Hey, hey it’s okay” she said and looked at you “why don’t you tell me about those nightmares?” Your girlfriend asked gently and you looked at her. God you were so glad to have her… “I-I dream about that day… I see people die but tonight… tonight I saw you get shot at… Nes it was so horrible…” you been crying again and she held you close to her, letting you cry on her shoulders. “It’s okay, I’m safe. He can’t get to us anymore…” she pulled back and saw you were looking around scared, and she put a hand on your cheek to make you look at her.

“I’ll repeat this as many times as you want, I’ll sleep with you as many times as you want. We’re okay now. Nothing or no one is going to hurt me or you because we’re safe now. But I’m gonna need you to get better, because as much as I love seeing people suffer, seeing you suffer is horrible so please, get better for me” you nodded at her words and hugged her.

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: so sorry for the wait! i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of labor, mentions of death, trauma, grief, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Eight - Empty Life

Chapter Twenty Eight - Empty Life

—-

1996-

It’s barely there, but if you press your forehead against the burning cold glass of the window, you can hear the sounds of water falling. Plopping, like little raindrops, except the sun is out. It’s the icicles on the edge of the roof- melting.

But it’s still cold. That sharp kind of cold. The one that makes you want to forget fire hurts and roll around in one.

You look over towards Natalie as she loads up the gun.

“I’m gonna ask Travis to come with me.”

You glance to the open door, then back to her.

“He won’t go with you.” She looks up at you, seatbelt from the plane clicking around her waist.

“C’mon,” she mutters, but she knows you’re right.

“He hates us, Natalie.”

The word is bitter on your tongue. The entire idea of it all. You have known Travis since that plane went down and you will know him for the rest of your life.

Even if you die in the wilderness, or years later. You will know him in a way you won’t know anyone else.

You’ll always know all the girls in a way no one else ever can.

You meet Natalie’s eyes, your arms wrapped around yourself, feeling slightly ashamed like you have ever since Javi came back.

“I knew he was dead. I knew he was dead, or else I never would have let you… let you do what you did.”

She nods after a moment, standing up straight.

“We both knew he was dead. I…” she shakes her head. “I don’t know how he’s alive.”

“No one does,” you mutter, sitting back on a big wooden chest, leaning against the wall. “He stopped looking ‘cause of us. ‘Cause of what we did, Nat. And now Javi’s not even speaking? He fucking despises us.”

When you look back up at her, the tears in your eyes feel stupid.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t cry.”

Her knees creak as she kneels down in front of you, her hands on your thighs, grabbing you, squeezing once. You try to blink away the guilt in your eyes, but it’s never-ending.

“We… we did what we could to help Travis. And we did it based on logic, based on what we knew. Javi… Javi being alive is a miracle, nightshade, and we didn’t think about miracles.”

She stands up, placing her hands on your shoulders.

She doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t either, just feeling her touch, until she squeezes once and pulls away.

And a little while later, you hear her ask Travis if he wants to go down to the creek and check the gully nets. He says no, and she goes by herself.

—-

You watch from the table as Travis hands Javi a bowl of soup and talks to him softly, trying to coax more of an explanation out of him. But Javi doesn’t say anything.

You sigh and stare at your hands, feeling like maybe you should do something, say something, but what do you have to say? What could you do to fix this?

He walks past you and Natalie, who leans against the wall, trying to fix the three of you, and she speaks and you sigh.

“He’ll be alright. He just needs time.”

You look over your shoulder.

“Nat,” you whisper, and she doesn’t look at you.

Travis doesn’t even turn around.

“Don’t you think he got enough of that out there?”

“Travis,” she scoffs.

He stops and turns, and you can’t see his face from here, but you can see the hint of desperation on Nat’s face. The longing, for everything to go back to how it was. And she wants to fix it, you know, but she can’t. And that’s killing her.

“Quit acting like such a fucking saint.”

He walks toward her, and you can see his face now, the anger. You stand up cautiously.

“You planted the bloody clothes. Just say it.”

“I did. But only-”

“You made me stop looking for him!” he shouts.

“I didn’t think he was alive! It doesn’t make any sense that he is, Travis-”

“Well maybe he wouldn’t be so fucked up if I had found him sooner, so that’s on you.” His voice is choked up, and you feel slightly sick looking at him, just someone who wants his brother to be okay.

He locks eyes with you, a silent question.

Did you know?

“I… I really though he was dead, Travis. I’m sorry-”

He scoffs, brushing past you, and leaves through the front door.

You turn to Natalie, ignoring the stares of everyone else in the cabin. Lottie stands up and follows him.

“I told you,” you mutter, walking away, and after a moment, she follows you.

—-

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we hadn’t crashed?”

In the silence that follows, you can hear her heartbeat, feel her arm around your shoulder, splintering wood walls to your backs.

“No,” Natalie says after a moment. “Why would I?”

“You don’t miss it? Life?”

She shrugs as much as she can with you practically on top of her.

“We’re living.”

You sigh, listening to her heartbeat. She’s all you have in this moment, and the past and the future fade away, and it’s just so nice to listen to her heartbeat and know that she’s here. Not running through the mountains, not in a frozen lake.

“I’m tired,” you murmur.

She squeezes your shoulder, like she’s reminding you that she’s here, and it’s alright. “Then sleep, nightshade.”

But she knows and you know that sleep won’t fix the kind of tired that both of you are.

—-

Ever since the contest, everything has been moving slowly. You steal a glance over to Javi, who sits in the window, no emotion on his face. It’s like his sullen presence has spread through the entire cabin like dark mold.

Nat sits at the table, cleaning the rifle that hasn’t seen use in weeks. And if you keep going like this, it won’t ever be used again.

“What the fuck, Lottie?!”

You look up, startled, Lottie falling to the floor in the otherwise silent cabin, and you realize that Shauna pushed her down.

“What happened?” Tai asks, running over and helping Lottie stand, while rage mixes like a storm over Shauna’s features.

“She was whispering weird shit to my baby!”

“I was just talking to him,” Lottie says, dusting herself off. “It’s good to talk to them in utero.”

“Yeah. So they learn to recognize their mother’s voice.”

Taissa sighs and looks between Lottie and Shauna.

“She wasn’t hurting anyone, Shauna,” she says after a second.

Shauna scoffs. “Wow,” she says in disbelief. “Okay. Fuck this.”

And none of you can do anything as she slams the door behind her. And after a moment, Taissa follows her.

—-

The cabin has fallen into cliques and territories. There’s Lottie and the girls that attended her ceremonies, the ones who keep to themselves and hope to survive another night, and then sometimes- it feels like it’s just you and Natalie.

You sit on a bench by the window, the fire, but it does nothing to make the cold in your bones any better. Or the hunger. Each day in the wilderness is making you sicker and sicker, making you loose hope on ever getting out of here and doing everything that you planned to do in your life.

The fire cracks softly, and you look over to Natalie, who sits with her knees brought up to her chest. These days, you never have any comforts for her. Nothing to do, nothing to say. Because all of you know that winter is still raging. A few icicles melting won’t change that.

The door slams open, and you look up, wind rushing in for a second, Misty leaning against the wall and gasping, ripping off her mask.

“I lost her!” she yells.

“Who?” someone asks, a few of the girls standing up in shock.

“Crystal! We-we were together, and then we got separated in the storm- and it all happened so fast. I kept looking for her and looking for her. I was screaming her name, but, she just, like, vanished.”

“Well, we need to go look for her,” Akilah says, frowning.

“Oh, shit. Tai and Shauna are still out there!” Van shouts, pulling up her hood and rushing outside.

You think of Shauna and how close you were with her before the class. Working on projects for English together, waiting outside of the lockerrooms to study- and now she’s here, in the wilderness, pregnant and starving, lost in the woods during a snow storm.

“We’re never gonna find them in this,” Mari says, and you mutter bitterly to yourself about not being such a fucking bitch, tugging your jacket tighter around you and following the girls outside. You notice that Misty stays behind you, resting inside for just a moment.

“What do we do?” someone shouts, and the wind hits your face like you’ve just jumped into the water. Whipping around your harshly, blowing snow from around your feet, little swirling tsunamis.

“Tai! Shauna!” Van shouts at the top of her lungs. “Tai! Shauna!” the wind whipping around is louder.

“Crystal!” Misty screams.

“Taissa!”

“Crystal!”

“Shauna!”

Everyone shouts and screams, and you close your eyes against the harsh wind, the sharp snowflakes, but in barely even helps. Lottie has to halfway shout in order for anyone to hear her.

“Van, what do you hear?” she asks, putting her hand on the other girls shoulder.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!” Nat shouts from next to you, but she’s ignored, and her words are ripped away by the wind.

The stand in silence for a little longer, and you can see them take a few deep breaths.

“I hear the wind,” Van says.

“I hear my breath,” Mari says.

“I hear the trees,” Akilah says.

“I feel our friends coming back to us,” Lottie says finally.

“I feel put friends coming back to us. I feel our friends coming back to us. I feel our friends coming back to us.”

They keep chanting and chanting, and soon, you can’t even see through the wind, and you can barely hear them. The storm is too much, too powerful.

And then, when night falls, and just as you think they’re gone, two figures emerge out of the woods. They fall, and help each other up, everyone shouting and running towards them and helping them inside, and you don’t let out a breath until the door finally slams shut, and the sounds of the storm fade away.

Everyone mutters, and you notice how Tai is practically holding Shauna up. Her face is scrunched up in pain, shes clutching her round stomach. Akilah is the first to say what you’re all thinking.

“Is she in labor?!”

Shauna looks up.

Then, she tilts her head back and screams in such pain you don’t know how she’s still standing, even with Taissa supporting her. And you know.

One storm is out there, but another is just beginning inside.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff @onlyangel-444 @subastronaut @iheartnatscatorccio

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[heartpawp]

let the light in - PROLOGUE

read it on ao3 here

Your husband’s been out hunting for what feels like a million days.

The lines etching every wall in your home show it, clearly. For months, you painstakingly clawed out each retched scratch, but lost count after around two hundred. You checked it twice, wall and pen, aimlessly wandering around the ominous halls to find the empty spot for that day.

You never found it.

The house calls never stopped, ringing one after another from giggly teenagers, amateur investigators, and any other pathetic person bored enough to try. Eventually, you threw it out.

You hunt your own food, grow your own plants, and wait. All you do is wait. It drones on in your mind, pictures of him littering the wall like overflowing vines in an abandoned home.

House.

A house is not a home without warmth, the love you once had. You once supposed it was only a house without your husband– but you believe it’s always a home with his pictures in it. You kiss them once, twice, thrice, before bed. When you wake up, when you cook, when you clean, when you simply live.

God may take mercy on your wicked soul, but you’re not so sure your husband will. His warmth had only extended to you, and his poor mother.

You don’t want to think he’s died. You know that man is capable of pushing through anything, and he was an exceptional hunter. There’s no way he could’ve died. You would forgive him if he just came back, held you once more, even gave you one more pound of fresh venison to sear.

You would let him eat it, let him have it all, if he just stepped one foot in your doorframe. It’s not like you’re psycho, or anything, you’re just crazy in love. He would’ve laughed at that, the ritzy man!

He would’ve laughed, but at this moment, you still. You stand in place, running a hand through your greasy hair. You don’t remember the last time you washed it, and you don’t want to.

You can’t stand the silence.

The radio dial clicks with a red light, static creeping up as you slide the weary record into the player. You vowed never to touch it, at least subconsciously. You wouldn’t touch it until he came home.

He’ll never come back. You know it now, picking at your hangnails and tearing them off. You run to pick up the dried deadly nightshade he once gave you, holding them in a shaky grasp.

You eat his love in the form of purple petals.

It’s all you do, that day. You dance to his vinyls, throwing your hands up in the air and shrieking like a wendigo. You recall the foxtrot, the Charleston, every silly tango your husband taught you. You cry and cry until your tears have been drained, smashing into every intricately placed piece of your house. An itch plagues your throat, slows your breathing.

Suicide is a sin, it says it, you know it. It’s in the books as a gold standard of what not to do. Your husband must forgive you just this once, he must know your situation down there, yes? You dance until you can no longer hold up the weight of your own body. A paralysis overtakes your body, and you can’t seem to catch your breath as you fall to the ground with a thud.

How you love that man. It’s all you can think about as the blood sputters out of your mouth, it’s all you can think about when a vase rattles from the harsh impact, shattering fine glass in your open-eyed gaze to the ceiling.

It’s all you could ever hope to think about, as the plant’s water goes down your throat and chokes you. You cough, unable to move from your spot on the ground. The pretty pansies come down to clog up your dry mouth; and as with your so-called husband–

Whom you admired so fearlessly in your approach–

Through muffled sputters, you breathe out, "Don't save me, by God, don't."

You breathe your last breath in this lifetime.

[sleepy-yn]

Is it me or her?

warnings: None(?) insecurities

Genre: angst to fluff

She was all anyone could talk about. She was exceptional, strange, not normal. For a school made for outcasts to bond, she sure made herself one. I remember when everyone used to talk about me like that. I'm not jealous per se, I'm simply confused. When she arrived, she took my boyfriends attention wherever she went. I mean there wasn't much special about her, she wasn't a creature, didn't have any special abilities.

Wednesday Adams, she was good at everything without even trying, didn't draw unnecessary attention to herself. Maybe that's why he's infatuated with her. Which leads us here, and why I'm hiding in the nightshades library. I had a legacy too, not that my boyfriend remembers that now.

"She has a legacy," the mocking tone of my voice is muffled by whatever Cigarettes After Sex song was playing in my ears. The smoking wood aroma is comforting, one I'm all too used to. I hide in here most days, especially now that my boyfriend is constantly running after Wednesday.

"Just break it off already," I whisper, my breath choked up in my throat. A tap on my head shoots my eyes open.

"Y/N, you good?" Ajax's eyebrow is cocked up and he's looking down at me.

"Yea, totally fine," I gather my stuff hurriedly trying my best to push past him.

He grabs me by the elbow, "Woah, what's up? Do you want me to get Xavier?"

"There's no point, I don't even know where he is."

"He's in his art studio with Wednesday. Want me to walk you?" He pipes up, his thumb pointing in the direction of the stairs. Of fucking course he's with her. I wasn't even allowed to go into his studio most of the time, but I guess he makes all types of exceptions for Wednesday.

"No, it's okay. He's busy." I rush up the stairs and past Ajax. He's a good friend, but he's not just mine.

Getting to my dorm, I find my roommate gone. She probably went to visit her girlfriends dorm, finally some alone time. I'm no Wednesday but I am pretty good at playing the guitar. Settling in my window seat, I play around with the chords.

"It almost feels Like it was just a dream All these memories of you and me Blown away In the summer breeze It almost feels like We just never were All this time we spent was just a blur Now it's just me and a melody So what am I Supposed to do 'Cause all these plans We -" A knock on the door interrupts me, when I turn around I'm all but happy with the sight.

"You're supposed to knock BEFORE coming in," I turn back away from the door, eyes settling back on the guitar.

"I'll remember that next time." I doubt there will be a next time. "I heard you were looking for me."

"Your sources were wrong." I refuse to look at him because if I do I know I'm going to start crying.

He makes his way in front of me, sitting in my direct line of vision. "Baby, talk to me." he whines, his voice deep but childlike. He makes me so weak.

I get up and make my way to the guitar stand and deposit the instrument there. Like a puppy, he follows me.

"Are you ignoring me now? Ajax said you were upset, c'mon tell me what's up," his cold hands find their place on my hips, holding me still in front of him.

"Why don't you go hang out with Wednesday and leave me be," it came out more broken than I wanted it to.

He spins me around and wraps his arm around my waist. "Is that what this is about? You're jealous?"

"Of course I am! What am I supposed to think when my boyfriend is running off with another girl all the time leaving his ACTUAL girlfriend alone." I push his arms away and turn so my tears were hidden.

"Baby look at me," he holds my chin between his index and his thumb, the pout on his lips coming into view. "No one could ever replace you, I promised you that. Remember?"

Of course I did, he reiterated it on the day he gave me my promise ring. We went out by the lake, sitting on the dock and he put it on me just like that. He promised we were forever and that the ring was a placeholder for the real thing.

"I know you did, doesn't exactly feel that way right now, though."

"Princess, I am utterly enchanted by you. There is nothing that could change that, not even Wednesday."

"So there's nothing going on between you two?"

"Absolutely nothing, she just has been really into solving these murders. I just don't want her to get hurt by Tyler like I was. She's our friend." He accentuated the last word, drilling it into my head.

"I'm sorry I'm such a bad girlfriend," I dug my head into his chest. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head, rubbing my back up and down.

"You're not, you just get too into your head, hm?"

“I’ll try not to.”

"I think we need to go see Ajax though cause he's convinced we broke up."

"Oh jeez," I pull away and take his hand dragged him out of the room.

I guess I had nothing to worry about.

[streaminn]

Hey, I hope you're feeling alright and getting enough rest. So I randomly remembered the resigned Enid au while I was listening to Tired by Kelly Price, and by god, it suits the au except for certain lyrics. The lyrics that I feel best match it are

"I'm tired of the way he treats me

Tired of the guilty feelings

I'm tired of the games and lies

I'm tired of praying that it works

I'm tired of crying

And oh I'm so tired of taking it

I'm tired of being wronged and doing right

Said I'm tired of keeping peace and tired of fighting

Tired of letting go, then holding on"

This just encapsulates how enid is tired of wednesday not really showing an interest in her except when she needs something from her. I think the person who came up with the au said that after everything is resolved wednesday retreats back into being cold and/or uninterested in enid and only cares about her own interests. Then she doesn't realize that enid herself has stopped putting an effort into getting her attention which I think would only cement in Enid's head that giving up was a good idea. What kind of person doesn't realize for weeks that their friend is pulling away right? Like yeah wednesday isn't good with emotions and social cues but it's not exactly hard to see when someone like Enid is pulling away.

Enid is tired of having to fight or nearly die to get Wednesday's attention. She's tired of wednesday pushing her away and hurting her feelings. She gets that enough from her family so why would she want that from someone who is supposed to be her best friend? She deserves better than some half assed apologies from someone who has lied and manipulated her before (Gates mansion). She's tired and doesn't want to fight so she doesn't say anything. Doesn't leave. Doesn't really mention her decision to anyone. Just goes on with her life same as before wednesday came barreling in her life. Of course, she'll still be friendly and respectful but gone are the days in which enid tried her best to be more than an acquaintance. She knows the nightshades and Eugene will notice and hopes no one questions her. She just wonders if she's made any difference at all in Wednesday's life. She wonders if wednesday will even notice that something is different.

dude ;-; you don't gotta tear my heart like this

its probably post break up too, after the fight and enid leaves. If we end up making this a thing, i'd probably have the au be set where season one takes over a whole semester instead of half so we have that good ol awkward tension and slow days so wednesday gets extra frustrated over the lack of danger happening constantly

now as for Enid staying in yoko's dorm.. i dont think she could stay for that long, aware that even when her vampire bestie says otherwise, she can't just runaway from her fears over and over again.

Where in canon, she makes every attempt to come back to the dorm just to somehow meet wednesday, Enid simply simmers and she thinks

Then she makes her decision and she accepts that this is what it is and so starts her distancing arc

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi, hope both of you are doing great. This is for Writing Wednesday. Can you write where Alec is the Trueblood heir because he has some sort of Family gift, like sentient hadow wielding? Sentient shadows that are VERY attached to Magnus because they feel safe around him or something? Always felt that it was a damn shame the series never delved more into this other than the Fairchild's

Also because I forgot in my effort to post before I ran out of energy but you’re so sweet so an answer!

We are both doing good! Just tired and a little sore from keeping up with a puppy. Nightshade is very uh… emotional and he punished @saeths because I woke up to give the puppy kisses when Nightshade asked and saeth pushed him away so we have a very grumpy pup that is only angry with saeth. So when saeth woke up to take meds, Nightshade decided to tap dance on their body and then try and eat their toes in revenge for being ignored. Mind you, he’s ten months so he’s still learning manners but boy his little toe beans know exactly where to poke to cause the most pain.

And then Saeth crashed again and Nightshade went into the bathroom to cry in the tub and now he’s outside ‘guarding the house with his favorite stuffie’ and sulking.

(Btw, Nightshades preferred method of waking someone up is getting on the bed and staring at them until the sheer panic of being stared at hits your instincts and you wake up… though that might just be me since it never works on saeth, they just push him away while I give Nightshade kisses and end up getting my face washed)

okay so this might be my last fill for the night because this was quite a bit heavier than i expected to go but like. it went far different than what i'd planned so i hope you like it and uh. warning for shitty lightwood parenting (child abuse)

this is gonna need a second or third and possibly fourth chapter and i love your prompt anon, i really do. but everyone keeps giving me these glorious ideas that turn into wips and i just. you all are on point with the prompts. this is like the 10th one thats turned into a two shot or more

oh also baby alec

-

Alec knows he’s the Lightwood heir. It’s why his parents married, to bring new blood into the Lightwood lineage and while the Trueblood’s had once been just as powerful, their powers had faded through the centuries.

Alec is supposed to be the culmination of two ancient bloodlines. Born of a bridal sacrifice from a marriage between an already diminished bloodline to the fading Lightwood house.

And it works. 

Just not in the way anyone thinks of hopes.

Alec is seven the first time he’s struck for no reason. It’s not training, it’s not sparring, it’s not anything except he disappointed his parents.

He feels cold after, the pain fading but the betrayal lingering and the next day, he feels dazed. Like the world is a new place and he is rediscovering it. 

Alec doesn’t show his face all day. Not to anyone, even Izzy and especially not to his parents.

He ignores when they finally notice he’s missing, screaming and calling him until they upgrade to threats. He doesn’t notice the disturbed looks being sent at his parents, or the concern that is growing as Alec continues not to be found.

Alec stays hidden, alone and sustained by the shadows until he feels strong enough to face them. He doesn’t know what he looks like, when he crawls out of a hidden alcove and takes the shadows to the observation room. 

His mother looks pale, almost frail when he sees her and he doesn’t really get it. She doesn’t look as scary now, as when her palm had connected with his cheek. It’s the same with his father, from the glimpses he’s seen, the man looking smaller, not as tall and menacing as he did when he’d cuffed both of Alec’s ears and yelled at him for an over for forgetting an answer the same day mother struck him. 

Of the two, it’s his mother he’s willing to face first because even if she struck first, her blow was the softer of the two so he steps out of the shadows and speaks for the first time in longer than he knows has passed.

“Mother.”

—

Maryse turns, relief flooding her even as anger fights to overwhelm it. 

It’s been nine days.  Nine days since her heir, her son — the very reason for her marriage has been missing — and Maryse doesn’t understand how or why he disappeared.  She turns, ready to berate him, to scold him, to make him understand that whatever happened is unacceptable and can’t happen again. Because she has to make him know he can’t ever disappear like he did again, and then she’ll take him to her private quarters and hold him close in a way she hasn’t allowed herself since Izzy was born.

But when she turns to look at him, words already formed on the tip of her tongue, she can’t.

Because her son is truly her son, she realizes as she shakes and grips the railing and tries not to wail.

The son in front of her is not the heir she birthed, nor the heir she was married to Robert for.

The son that is in front of her is a Trueblood heir, through and through and Maryse’s soul aches with the loss she knows she’s been dealt.

Because Alec doesn’t trust her.

Maryse understands that in an instant. Can tell by the way that shadows flicker around him and dance at his feet, daring her to come close enough for them to strike.

“Alec—” she whispers and ignoring all the shadowhunters watching her, she carefully slips out of her heels and gets on her knees. “Hi baby.” She says, just as quietly but Alec doesn’t react, like he doesn’t understand the meaning of the endearment. In that moment, Maryse feels more hollow than when she realized she wouldn’t survive the Circle, that her heir and unborn baby wouldn’t survive Valentine.

Because Alec is looking at her like she’s the monster he needs to hunt, to watch for, to be wary of, to kill.

And Maryse can’t remember the last time she was soft enough to him for him to trust her, what words or gestures will bring him back to her and not further away.

He tilts his head, beautiful hazel eyes hidden behind the darkness of shadows and watches her like a predator watches a possible opponent. 

“I’ll be in my room, mother,” he says and he nods like he’s a shadowhunter giving a report. Like he’s telling his commander his whereabouts and not his mother who has been missing and grieving him for over a week.

“Alec,” she calls after him hesitantly, forcing herself not to follow him. “Baby—” she tries again to no avail, “have you eaten? Have you drank anything?” 

Because Maryse hasn’t let herself worry about her son, her first baby, and now she sees his wane face and she wonders if it was less because she was focused on finding him, or if it was because it was easier not to care about him. 

“I take care of myself.” Alec says, his little voice too young and high for how cold it is and he refuses to turn his back to her as he walks past. “You taught me that.”

And Maryse barely manages to wait until he leaves hearing range before she’s covering her face with her hands and screaming in anger and rage and pain. When she’s hoarse and exhausted she gets herself up, slips her shoes back on and turns her face as cold as adamas and goes to find her husband.  When she sees Robert and she knows he’s heard that Alec’s reappeared and she notices that just like her, his first reaction is anger, not relief. 

And maybe, it would make her a better wife, to warn him of what he’ll find when he ignores her suggestions to wait until Alec approaches him. But their relationship has never been about spousal support beyond that of respect and politics. So she follows, at a distance and while she’s prepared for a lot when he finally enters Alec’s room and she stays outside, she’s not prepared for Robert’s angry bellow and then a vicious, loud crack.

She runs in, hand on her blade and fearing the worst but it’s both less and more awful than she thought. 

She realizes, as she makes it through the door that she thought it would be Alec, lying on the floor and it sickens her, to realize some part of her had expected and allowed Robert to go after him in violence. 

It’s not though. It’s Robert, eyes dull with pain and his breathing heavy and he’s lying in a broken heap. 

His spine has been shattered, in a multitude of places, Maryse has seen similar injuries during her time in the Circle, but even then she’s never seen any so brutal. 

Alec, her baby is watching her though, eyes just as cold as earlier but something more dangerous in them and she realizes he thinks she’s about to attack him too. She lets go of her hilt and unstraps it’s sheath, letting it fall to the floor and she drops her stele too. Then she takes off her shoes like she did when he reappeared and she realized everything had gone wrong, so she’s closer to him.

“Are you okay, baby?” She asks, soft as she can and then she wails internally when Alec looks at her with even more suspicion. “It’s okay, Alec. You did good okay, you protected yourself and the—” Maryse swallows, her mouth suddenly dry, “the shadows protected you too. Just like a Trueblood, my blood.” Because she needs to connect with him quickly, before she loses him forever.

“If you hit me again.” Alec says and Maryse wants to cry at the fact that it’s again, that she didn’t even realize it had ever happened. “You won’t have a hand to hit me with anymore.” And he shrugs, “they say so.”

Around him the shadows writhe around in possessive, covetous agreement and Maryse remembers the stories of her family. The ones that were spoken of less and less as their powers diminished. 

“I won’t, Alec. I won’t and if I do, then that’s your right. Their right to protect you. Even if it’s from me.” Especially if it’s from her because those shadows recognize blood and they’re furious with her. Maryse can feel it in the slight echo of resonance that if she doesn’t prove herself. They will kill her and raise Alec themselves, like they’ve done for so many Truebloods orphaned by war. 

“You didn’t react like him. When I came back, I thought you would.”

And Maryse wants her little boy back. The one who promised to protect his baby sister and to be a good hunter and who followed Maryse around like a little shadow.

He was always meant to be a Trueblood, she realizes mournfully and she reaches out a hand, letting it be coated by shadows that could rip it off as easily as she breathes. Hesitantly, more for Alec’s sake than her own fear, she presses her fingers to his tiny face and wonders how she ever could have hit him.

“I’m here, okay Alec. I’m here and I’m sorry.” Because she is and it’s not enough, not with the way he still is wary but that’s okay. He doesn’t have to forgive her, ever. He just has to let her stay, let her try. “Come with me, baby?” She begs, “we can light the fire in my room. Give the shadows plenty of room to dance in, you can tell me how they feel and I’ll tell you stories, okay? Of where they’re from—” her lip wobbles as he nods, a little tiny movement she feels against her palm more than sees. 

“Okay, okay. Just, let's go okay? I’ll have someone else deal with your—” and she pauses when Alec bristles, “with Robert. Okay?” 

He relaxes a bit then and when Maryse steps past her shoes and sword and stele and into the hallway and holds out her hand, he follows, the shadows pulling up her stele to drop into his tiny grip.

“We’ll need it. To call for cleanup.” He says, calculated and callous and sounding so much like her and Maryse realizes how blind she’s been. Because becoming like her is never what she wanted for her children, especially not her firstborn who loved so eagerly and trusted so wholly. 

— and she broke that, her and Robert and it may never be fixed and they’ll have to live with that, she’ll have to live with that — 

Alec keeps a hold of it, even as his tiny, too-thin fingers take her hand and Maryse doesn’t care how much pain Robert is in. He can suffer until Maryse first gets Alec secured and fed and if someone hasn’t found him by then, then she’ll call him aid.

He won’t die from a broken spine.

Valentine’s nephilim victims never did, not until he wanted them to.

They walk slowly, and Maryse gives the first shadowhunter she sees a warning look and they nod and it’s the last of her hunters that they see.

Alec seems to relax the further they get from Robert and Izzy is sleeping in Robert’s room and Maryse doesn’t know how Alec will react to going in there, so she leaves Izzy safe where she is.

The fire is easy to light even without a stele, because Alec won’t give it up yet and Maryse doesn’t want him to risk using it so young and with his Trueblood newly awakened. 

The shadows dance and writhe with contentment and Alec relaxes the longer they play.

“I’m not the Lightwood heir anymore, am I?” Alec asks and he sounds less cold and more confused and Maryse watches with her heart in her mouth as he finally picks up a glass and she could weep when he finally, finally takes a sip of water.

He seems surprised by how thirsty he is and Maryse wishes she needed to tell him to drink slowly but it seems he already knows, drinking half the glass with careful sips and then setting it down. Even though it’s clear he wants to pick it back up and finish it off. 

“No, you’re the Trueblood heir, my heir.” She tells him because she needs that claim to him before it rips away.

“But you’re not a Trueblood anymore.” 

And it’s just a statement, but it hits harder than a blow and Maryse takes a deep, centering breath.

“Well, I will be.” Maryse says and she knows it’s true the moment she says it. “You’re father and I are going to break our union. He still has an heir, Izzy and now I have one as well.” And because Alec still looks confused she reaches out and very carefully, brushes his hair out of his eyes. “We didn’t marry for love,” and with a sinking suspiciounn when Alec doesn’t even blink she adds, “but you know that.” 

And he nods and says, “you married and had me because you were told to.”

He says it so matter-of-fact, like he isn’t breaking Maryse’s heart the way she must have broken her son’s. And then a terribly, heart-wrenching thought slithers into her mind.

 “Alec, do you think?” And Maryse’s heart hurts to even voice it aloud, “do you think you were born for duty? And Izzy for love?”

Alec shrugs and in the comfort of his shadows, he gives in and swings his little feet on the too-tall chair.

It’s adorable and Maryse vaguely remembers scolding him the last time she’d seen it.

“You had me for politics. Izzy could’ve been a spare, but you told me I had to protect her. That she was special and precious and needed to be kept safe above all else, including me. So I figured she must have been made for love.”

Maryse is crying, she realizes, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she wonders how she and Robert broke apart their family so very completely, in that Alec’s original pure devotion to his sister has turned into a self-sacrificial mantra based on her and Robert’s failures. 

Because Izzy was hope and love. She was an attempt to renew a broken relationship and an excuse to leave the Circle and she was so innocent, when Alec was already becoming jaded from the world around him. She wants to deny it but she can’t and she rattles out a shaking breath, because she’s going to fix this.

Somehow, soon, she’s going to fix this. Even if she has to break apart herself, and Robert and her own world.

“I’m going to take care of this, all of it. I’ll fix it okay. What do you want, baby? What do you want me to do?” And Maryse is being cruel, asking Alec to help her help him but she doesn’t know what her son wants, what his dreams are, or if he has any.

“Can we stay here?” He asks finally, “the angelic core is really nice and the shadows like it. I think it likes me too.” And oh, if Maryse doesn’t shudder to hear that, if she doesn’t swear the clave will never know how precious her child is, “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want him here either.”

“Then I’ll make it happen. If, if Robert goes, Izzy might go with him.” Maryse 

“So I’ll be here by myself?” He asks, and he seems a little disappointed but not surprised and MAryse shakes her head fiercely. 

“No, alec. It will be you and me here, and we’ll visit Izzy.”

“You won’t go with Izzy?” He asks, like he’s surprised staying with him is even an option. “No baby, she’s Robert’s heir now and while I love her.” Alec doesn’t seem surprised by that, but his eyes light up in surprise and awe when she says, “but I love you too, baby. And you’re my heir now, that means you’re my priority, and she’s his.”

Because Maryse is the only parent who can protect and love Alec left, Alec has effectively cut himself off from the Lightwood line and disowned Robert as his parent. 

“I’m your priority?” He asks, like he’s never heard anything so wondrous in his life and Maryse leans over and doesn’t care if her bones are broken or her flesh is torn as she carefully, like she’s embracing something as delicate as a butterfly's wing, wraps her arms around her son.

“Yes, Alec. You’re my priority, my Trueblood baby, even the clave won’t argue with your shadows, Alec. I love you and I’m going to keep you safe now.”

Because she hadn’t before. 

[fictionkinfessions]

Canon pets

In one of my DnD tls I had a 20 hand(6'6" at the shoulder) Percheron stallion named Remus.

He was something else. My family business was breeding horses for the military, and one day, for my wife's birthday, I asked her to make a match. She paired Two horses I wouldn't have ever paired together because they both had confirmation flaws that would not have imporved each other and the only reason I kept them for breeding stock was because the flaws could be improved by breeding them to other horses. One of the parents was a descendant from Bastard, my late father's war horse. And about a year later, Wyndon comes running out to me because the mare stalled in labor. I felt for the foal, and not only was he huge, but he was coming out backward. It was a fight to get him out, and we almost lost him. I think I estimated him to be 300lbs, he was supposed to be 250 lbs. My wife named him Remus and I told her she should name him Moose. She picked Remus because it was matching with mine: Romulus.

Remus imprinted on me and he was the bane of my existence for the first two years of his life. He would jump or break fences and open gates to get to me. I had to padlock every gate and paddock to male sure he couldn't open them. But he was also the best horse I ever had. He was almost completely bombproof (horse lingo for not easily scared) except for buzzing insects. This dummy stuck his nose in a bee hive when he was a year old and was terrified of buzzing insects ever since.

When Wyndon was murdered he stood over top me all night in the pouring rain while I screamed and cried about the loss of my wife and our unborn children. When I fell into alcoholism he made sure I didn't hurt myself. Sometimes, I would try to bring him into bars to have a drink with me, and he would throw his head back and lock his legs up, refusing to move. The bar tender would tell me to get him out of his bar so I would order Remus a beer or some Brandi and pour it into a bucket for him. Sometimes, I would cry because "my best friend doesn't want to have a drink with me!"

- Romulus Nightshade (dnd character)

x

[biggestsimponhere]

I just heard an audio that goes like this:

Guy 1: Where are all the masculine men?

Guy 2 *dressed as a princess*: we are making a princess party.

And I think Kent would totally go to one,Enid would be totally down for it and would invite Ajax and he would be like: okay...?,Bianca would like wtf and maybe she laughs, Divina and Yoko would laugh and be like say whaaaat?, probably Xavier would join if Wednesday goes, Wednesday would bring a doll with no head or probably would cut one and maybe she drinks poison instead of tea, what do you think?

100 %, Kent definitely suggested the idea

He asked Enid first who agreed immediately and then ran to convince others

Enid asked Ajax first who was a little confused on why exactly that had her bouncing up and down

Bianca stood in the corner filming videos of the boys in princess dresses and crowns to use as blackmail (specifically on Xavier)

Divina definitely took less convincing than Yoko

Divina was the one who convinced Yoko

Xavier definitely only agreed because Enid said Wednesday was gonna be there though Enids puppy dog eyes work on anyone

Somehow Enid convinced Wednesday, Wednesday agreed as long as she could bring dolls (definitely not cause shes in love with her) (and she didn’t mention the dolls not having heads 😟)

Everyone was gathered around the small table Enid set up. It had placements for everyone and the tablecloth as long as silverware and napkins were all pink. Enid was already sat down in a pastel pink dress when Kent walked down the stairs to the nightshades library in a Easter shade of Blue. Divina followed shortly after in a teal. Then came Xavier who was in a dark green (everyone was surprised he even wore one). Xavier was followed by Bianca in a Scarlet and Yoko in a deep purple. Finally Wednesday came down in a black dress looking as amazing as ever.

Once everyone was sat down Enid poured “tea” it was really just some alcohol (someone had manages to sneak on campus) mixed with Strawberry lemonade. She also put out cookies she had made. Once everyone was a little buzzed they started playing card games. Starting with uno, Wednesday won four times. Enid won once, Xavier won twice, and Bianca won three times. Then moving onto Catan (if you’ve never played its basically a “resource” collecting game and you try to build your settlement up) Wednesday won that everytime.

Moving into Coup (its a very fun game, there’s multiple roles and tokens, it gets very competitive) Surprisingly Enid won that everytime. Ending with Monopoly, they played four times, Kent won first, then Yoko, then Divina and then Ajax. That last match ended with Xavier flipping the board. They stayed down in the library for quite a long time. Enid took a ton of photos before they all turned on a movie through the projector and then laid on the pillows, blankets and bean bag chairs Enid managed to bring down.

They turned on Moulin rouge which just turned into Karaoke with every song. Xavier, Ajax and Kent sang the Christians part, while all the girls sang Satines part (excluding Wednesday who said singing was “A childish form of passing time”). Once the movie was nearing the end all the girls except Wednesday weds crying, Xavier was crying too which had Ajax laughing at him. Enid hid in Ajax’s shoulder during the final couple of scenes. Kent was passing around the boxes of tissues (this movie has such a sad ending 😭).

Eventually they all decided they needed to get back to their dorms. As Xavier was the most sober he walked the girls back two at a time before going back to get Ajax and Kent. He also somehow ended up being the one cleaning the library but he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he was gonna sleep anyways.

[marydublinauthor]

Random gt drabbles: Nightshade

Characters: Tyrant!Cliff and Zia

Universe: Tyrant!Cliff AU

——————

“You fucker! Let me out of here!”

Sylvia had been screaming at Cliff for fifteen minutes, but her voice was weakening. Her beating at the gilded bars of the cage embedded in his study shelf was a waste of energy. Every other fairy in the room could only politely avert their gazes to spare her the shame of their pity.

Cliff was marking off several areas on a digital map for some of his crew members. Nesting areas for possible chenoos in Alaska. It made Zia’s stomach roil to look at the eager men hanging on his expertise. Eager for blood.

“Everyone’s dismissed,” Cliff finally said in a louder voice. “Except for one of you,” he gestured vaguely towards the fairies lounging on the desk furniture. “One of you shut her up. I can’t hear myself think.”

Sylvia spat towards Cliff’s back. “When I get these cuffs off — and I will —I’m going to freeze your heart. You’re going to choke on your own fluids.”

“I’ll do it,” Zia offered casually.

She kept her eyes on the laces of her velvet slippers, but she saw how Cliff looked abruptly in her direction, his lips parted in surprise. He was cemented in place as the room emptied.

The stillness felt dangerous. She met his gaze unflinchingly before flying to the cage. Sylvia’s face was worn and red from crying. Cliff’s betrayal seemed to poison her a little more each day — cuffs or no. Her emerald eyes were dull as she begged Zia quietly to help her.

Cliff’s footsteps thudded quietly as he neared. Zia squared her jaw and waved her hand, pulling at the small amount of magic the cuffs allowed her. Sylvia’s eyes fluttered, a plea dying on her lips as she fell into a gentle sleep, forehead resting against the bars.

“I thought you two were close. What changed?” His deep voice was calm, but laced with suspicion.

“She’s yelling herself hoarse. Besides… You did give her a chance to apologize for wounding you.”

He frowned, but intrigue glimmered there, too. They hadn’t interacted much since that night in his bed, when he’d kissed her.

When she’d kissed him, too.

“You’re wearing the necklace,” he noticed. The effort to maintain a casual air would have been adorable from anyone else.

Zia touched it, grinning wryly. “It does pain me to admit you have good taste. It matches everything.” Her delicate touch trailed from the gemstone, over her cleavage. She pushed off from the cage and flew back over to the desk. Cliff followed. After fluttering indecisively, she pointedly lowered herself to a seat on Cliff’s crystal bourbon glass. There was still a little of the harsh drink inside, mingling with melted ice.

“I’m glad you’re not going with them,” Zia said, smiling primly as she watched the hunger build in his expression. The way he fought so desperately to maintain the upper hand.

“Why?”

“You’d get hurt,” she said, smirking. “And that would mean more work for me.”

He chuckled softly, fondness flooding his face. Cliff braced his hands on the desk, leaning over her. She had to arch her back to maintain eye contact.

“Maybe I’ll bring you with me next time,” he said in that low voice that made her stomach flutter. He grabbed hold of the glass. She let her legs dangle in the bourbon, kicking carefree. “There are always vampires in Italy. And Greece. You’d love it there.”

“Do we need monsters to travel together?” She scoffed. “Am I not enough of an excuse?”

Her teasing grin faltered when Cliff lifted up the glass. His handsome face loomed so close she could feel his soft breaths against her skin.

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “You offered to prove yourself. Right?”

She touched the side of his hand, hoping he could not feel how hers trembled. Cliff’s other hand cupped against her side, grazing the gauzy fabric of her short dress. His thumb pushed under her chin, guiding her face as he leaned in to kiss her.

He was tender and skilled — but hungry. He pressed against the softness of her thigh, the curve of her waist, claiming her.

She giggled shrilly as he paused in his affections only to gulp down the last of the liquor, sucking on her arms in the process when she fell forward against his full lips.

He pulled away, catching his breath with a dizzied smile.

“Zia, I…”

He trailed off.

His pause drew out as he stood there, and he frowned deeply.

“What is it, darling?” Zia asked.

His eyes bulged with realization and he bucked forward. He tried to set the glass down gently, but she was nearly crushed by it as he seized and dropped it on its side. Rolling out of the way, Zia watched with wide eyes as Cliff struggled to stay alert. His eyelids suddenly seemed leaden.

He managed a murmur of betrayal before collapsing to the floor in a heap.

Zia wrung out her long hair, counting the seconds of silence. She sighed, looking down at her wet clothes. She would smell of nightshade for ages.

She glided down to the floor and landed on Cliff’s chest. She crawled in his jacket pockets for a few minutes before emerging victorious with her prize — the master key fob.

“We have to hurry,” Zia said, flying to the cage. Sylvia was on her feet, wings tensed. “I didn’t have enough nightshade to kill him.”

[squids-comics]

Are you ready for the final tale of Leon Nightshade? This is the last issue written before the author mysteriously vanished (I didn't really, I just started writing other stuff instead). Without further ado, here's Leon Nightshade: Monster Hunter Issue Four: ...On a Crazy Train!

Page One:

Panel one, top third of page:

Ophidia squirms in his seat. The flaming ghast sitting across from him stands. The two ghasts on either side of Ophidia start grabbing at him, their mouths opened, revealing twisted smiles of rotten bloody teeth. The flaming ghast has a wider smile on his face as he grabs a briefcase off the floor. 

Flame: "You didn't think we'd let you get away with it, did you?"

Panel two, middle third of page:

The flaming ghast reaches out a single finger. He uses it to lift Ophidia's chin up. The finger sears the flesh on his chin. Tears stream down Ophidia's face, both out of pain and fear. 

Flame: "You destroy your lab and your notes, kill your partners, and steal all product to auction to the highest bidders."

Panel three, bottom left sixth of page:

The flaming ghast smiles down at Ophidia, his teeth glowing orange, like molten steel.

Flame: "Parasol sent me to collect your head."

Panel four, bottom right sixth of page:

Ophidia stares in shock.

Ophidia: "Is that you Cyrus?"

Page Two:

Panel one, top left sixth of page:

Cyrus's smile fades. 

Cyrus: "I am not Cyrus."

Panel two, top right sixth of page:

Anger spreads across his face. 

Cyrus: "I was the first successful participant of project Phoenix!"

Panel three, middle left sixth of page:

Ophidia's terror returns to his face.

 Ophidia: "I thought it was cancelled! Too unethical, even for Parasol!"

Panel four, middle right sixth of page:

Cyrus laughs.

Cyrus: "Like you're one to talk about research ethics!"

Panel five, bottom left sixth of page:

Cyrus steps back. His fire grows brighter, illuminating the room. 

Cyrus: "I was melted down, burned to a crisp by hellfire. But like a phoenix, I rose form the ashes."

Panel six, bottom right sixth of page:

The fire spreads, lighting the rooms seats and walls on fire. 

Cyrus: "I am Brimstone!!"

Page Three:

Panel one, top third of page:

The door to the cabin swings open. The flames in the cabin illuminate the hall, revealing Leon and Claire in the hallway.

Panel two, middle third of page:

A flaming crystal bullet and a laser of light fly into the room. They hit the two ghasts on either side of Ophidia.

Panel three, bottom third of page:

The two ghasts slump over, dead.

Page Four:

Panel one, top third of page:

Brimstone turns to face the monster hunters. His wide smile is unchanged by their sudden appearance. 

Brimstone: "Looks like we have guests!"

Panel two, middle left sixth of page:

Leon looks confused.

Leon: "Why is the ghast on fire?"

Panel three, middle right sixth of page:

Ophidia stands, drying his eyes with a handkerchief pulled from his suit jacket.

Ophidia: "He's not a ghast. He's a revenant."

Panel five, bottom left sixth of page:

Leon looks even more confused.

Leon: "What's that mean?"

Panel six, bottom right sixth of page:

Claire keeps her eyes fixed on Brimstone, refusing to blink.

Claire: "They're like a ghoul, except they retain the personality and memories from when they were alive. Some can even perform magic."

Page Five:

Panel one, top left sixth of page:

Brimstone smiles wider, beaming with excitement.

Brimstone: "Lets see what we have here..."

Panel two, top right sixth of page:

Ophidia stands. He's still very afraid, but Leon and Claire's presence seems to calm him. He's no longer crying.

Brimstone: "...A snake..."

Panel three, middle left sixth of page:

Claire stands in the doorway. She has her sword in her hand. She takes a yellow crystal out of it and inserts a blue one.

Brimstone: "...A monster hunter..."

Panel four, middle right sixth of page:

Leon grips his flashlight tightly, the beam of light shaped like the blade of a sword.

Brimstone: "...And a rookie out of his depth..."

Panel five, bottom third of page:

Brimstone smiles as fire explodes from his back, blasting through the wall behind him.

Brimstone: "This should be fun!!"

[camusscigarette]

okay but what do you think THE hannibal/bedelia song is

If we're talking show Hannibal/Bedelia, it would be Ultraviolence. Why? Because their relationship had some undertones of violence but not in a domestic abuse kind of way, at least not..clear and typical Domestic abuse. But then again, I think the whole Album "Ultraviolence" would just describe their relationship.

"He hit me but it felt like true love, Jim taught me that, loving him was never enough"

"He used to call me DN, that stood for deadly nightshade, cause I was filled with poison, but blessed with beauty and rage" ~Ultraviolence.

"I got your Bible got your guns, and your love to party and have fun, and I like my candy and your women, And I'm so happy, so happy now that you're gone"

"Share my body and my mind with you, that's all over now, I did what I had to do cause you're so far past me now. Share my body and my life with you, that's way over now, there's not more I can do, I can see you leaving now" ~Cruel World.

"Don't say you need me when, you leave and you leave again, I'm stronger than all my men, except for you. Don't say you need me if, you live last, you're leaving, but I can't do it, I can't do it cause you do it just, Cause I'm pretty when I cry" ~Pretty when you Cry.

LIKE THOSE ARE AN EXEMPLE, I CAN GO ON AND ON ABOUT HOW UV IS THEM. IT'S SO THEM BUT YEAH

[maybebovinity]

Nightshade Eyes [Reaper/Soldier:76] CHAPTER 2

Read on Ao3

1 / 2

Angela was like most fae: beautiful, kind, nurturing and highly protective of those she considered family. She was renowned throughout the castle and kingdom for her abilities to not only nurse but elevate the souls of the suffering. Often she would visit the lower districts to secretly tend to the sick children and weak adults who had no choice but to work until their bones snapped.

Once, she lived in an orphanage to care for every child who lost their family in the war. She had children cry on her, snot wiped on her, and too many times did she have to thoroughly clean herself after spending time with orphaned newborns. However, she never once lost her grace because she could feel the small flames inside of their bodies yearning for comfort.

Meeting Knight Commander Jack Morrison changed her: she met him when he was weak and delirious from the events of the battle. Like a child, he would bawl and babble, and she felt deeply for him as the small flame inside of him grew smaller with the passing days. She knew what his flame was like before the incident, and she swore she would never see it again.

Then his mind cleared and she discovered who he really was: a mean-spirited old man. Although he was merely forty-two winters to her centuries of seasons, he was intent on acting like the old sages she often had to visit for her training. He would complain and huff and yell whenever the slightest thing inconvenienced him. Deep down she understood that he suffered greatly, but the more he resisted her care and comfort, the less she began to care.

Yet she found herself back in the decrypt little village the following morning after waking up to a black moth on her nose. Blind, Jack is unable to send messages so she teaches him how to summon the fluttering creatures to signal her if he ever needs it. Perhaps it was  because  it was the first time he used it since she taught him how (so many years ago) that she found herself outside of his doorstep.

The door was open when she gently pressed against it. She did not know what to expect, except that a black moth meant an emergency. What Jack considered an emergency was all too unfamiliar to her. The door creaked open and she let herself in. Inside she scanned the area before spotting Jack sitting in the kitchen with a pinched expression and his hand desperately clutching to his locket.

“You summoned me?” She asked cautiously as the man had yet to acknowledge her presence. He finally released a sigh and let go of his locket.

“The fireplace.” He croaked out tiredly. Upon closer inspection, she realised he must have stayed awake for a few hours, if not the entire night. Being a spring fae she was practically useless as soon as the sun dipped, which meant that she had no idea for how long the moth waited for her to wake up. Guilt clenched at her heart, but she waved it away as she comforted herself with the notion that Jack was the one to reject her idea of living with her fellow fae. He was the one who wanted to live here, alone.

Still worried, she made her way to the fireplace where nothing was out of order. She was pleased to see that the smithy’s wife did in fact come over to help clean up, but she missed a spot. A big spot. On the floor, almost blending into the shadows, was a body. A prominent figure covered a long leather coat lying on their stomach. Their head was turned to the side but it was too dark for her to see their face clearly: another disadvantage of her birth season. 

She slowly leaned down and hovered her hand over the still body to feel for a flame. At first, she was certain it was a corpse when a sudden spark struck at her fingertips. She hissed and jerked her hand away.

“Angela?” Jack called worried.

“Why do you have an exorcist on your floor, Jack?” She called back. Exorcists did not have flames; souls. How they managed to live like human beings was a magic even beyond her or at least one she refused to dwell on. It would be the end of her kind if humans realised fae were the only ones who could contact the Devil. Angela has only ever met a devil fae once and the experience still unsettled her to think about.

Angela reached for the body again, this time expecting the zap, and gently touched it. The body did not breathe, but she could feel the slow drum of a heartbeat. She lifted her hand and took hold of the figure’s coat to gently roll them over. Just as she slightly shifted them, the body groaned and a wet sound came from the floor. Exorcists bled?

She released the body and turned to the solemn former soldier: “Your sight might be gone, but if you fail to carry this body then I will officially lose all hope in your recovery.”

… … …

Jack despised the company of others since he was dismissed from his post: all it took was one day for him to discover that the only benefit of friends was the possibility of a fuck and a drinking partner. Companionship was a novelty reserved for those who had the time for such trivial matters. 

So to have Angela order him to place the perhaps-dead exorcist in  his  bed was the last crack in the ice of what he considered acceptable. It was bad enough he had to depend on others for survival, and now his only island of isolation was occupied by a Devil’s child. And from the brief walk to his bedroom, he could not only tell that the exorcist was  heavy , but also well-built. 

Jack had never touched an exorcist before, opting to simply behead them from a distance, however, he had to wonder what the exorcist even needed a healthy body for: they returned ghouls with unholy weapons and drank their misty blood for life essence. They never sleep, never eat human food, and Jack has yet to hear of one who dared visit a whorehouse. 

Which brought him back to the body in his bed: was it a real exorcist?

“He is wounded.”

“  He?  ”

“As far as exorcists go, yes, it is a man. Before you lose yourself, he is nothing worth fawning over.”

Jack ignored the remark about his bed partner preferences, instead, he reached out a cautious hand and came into contact with  skin.  He prodded at the strange warmth which elicited a painful groan from the body. It was still alive. “You removed its mask?” He asked.

“No,” Angela suddenly said beside him. She gently pushed him to the side to further her examination. “Only he can remove it. But I had to dispose of his attire.”

“  He is naked?  ” Jack stumbled backwards as he tried to remember what he touched. The impish fae laughed at his misery and a hand reached for his shirt. She pulled him closer again and guided him to a chair the soft-spoken woman from yesterday brought for him. 

“His chest is bare. I would rather join the Devil herself before having to view an exorcist's treasury.” Another groan came from the man as Angela continued. A few minutes later, filled with groans and wet sounds, the fae finally sighed in defeat.

“His chest is torn. It is not a ghoul and it is rather too small to be a werebeast. I cannot mend him; he does not have a flame.” 

Jack wondered if that meant he did not have to worry about any exorcists being in his life in the near future, but of course, Angela (being the nurturing fae that she is) could not even watch a Devil’s child die. “I will inform the village. I believe this is their exorcist, he has a crest branded into his chest.” Before Jack could protest, Angela took hold of his hand and forced him to feel the ugly scar on its strange warm skin. He did not marvel at the scar, instead, he jerked away harshly and cursed cruelly at the fae: she knew better than to force his touch onto others. It was the one rule they had: do not touch him, and he will obey.

“Do you think this place is its house?” He asked with uncertainty. He arrived at the village without notice and no one was genuinely pleased when he demanded an abode. Angela had to barter harshly with a stern woman until it was agreed that he could rent the house. Of course on one condition: do not destroy it.

Jack didn’t know if exorcists had houses. He thought they were nomadic people who slaughtered as they travelled, but it was also not uncommon for a village to hire their services. They were the only exorcists the knights were not allowed to hunt, for they were doing a  good deed.  If Jack has to share his new house with a Devil child, he would instead return to the castle and live in the slums until someone finally beats him to death. 

“No,” Angela said. “I was informed that the exorcist resides with one of the villagers. They all respect him and speak fondly of his presence, do not make enemies with the people because of your inability to sense goodness.”

“No wonder I got stuck with you.” he spat bitterly. Who was she, a mere fae, to reprimand him about who he considered good? Who was she, who tended to damned souls and tainted her hands with sinner’s blood, to tell him that he cannot sense the evil within people? It was not his lack of sense that caused his undoing. Or so she would convince him.

“If we tell the villagers now then they can remove it from my life. I would rather we have them take it away before the sun sets.”

“I cannot promise you freedom.” The fae said as she quickly left the house to who knows where.

Alone, Jack found his way back to the chair and heavily sat down. He held his breath to listen for any presence of life: however, since last night, the Devil child did not breathe. Did exorcists have  any  humanity left inside of them? 

He thought back to the brand and warm skin, the pained sounds and the heavy body. Sometimes it was difficult to believe such evil creatures were once human, that they once had lives and possibly families and loved ones. Why humans decide to become these creatures was unknown to Jack: even when loving hands spread hot poison across his eyes, he never prayed to the Devil to save him.

… … …

The unsettling silence was enough to force the sleep away as he sat stiffly and waited for Angela’s return. The locket against his chest burned comfortably when the front door creaked open: it was midday. Soft footsteps moved his way until Angela formally announced her presence: “Have you ever considered becoming… tolerant towards a companion?” she asked. 

The words did not ease Jack’s already irritated mood. He did not want the Devil child to be in his house any longer. Angela’s words only meant one thing. 

“It is staying?”

“I did not tell the whole truth. His injuries are… critical. If you care, he only lives because whatever attacked him failed to completely sever his head. I suppose during the night it began mending itself, however, I’m sure a not-too-gentle push would just have it topple off again.”

A silence brewed among them. He suspected she had ulterior motives for not mentioning it sooner, however, he could hardly fight against her. He learned long ago that she always won. 

“You mean to say because we cannot move it again, it is staying.”

“It is a man not a  thing.  ”

“Exorcists do not deserve human titles.” 

The fae sighed impatiently and moved over to the unbreathing body. He heard the soft jingle of her magic as she worked in silence: he knew she was easing his pain as best as she could. He remembers the feeling well, and the soft cooing voices that would whisper comforting lies as he refused to wake from his slumber.

“I calmed his mind for now. There is not a doctor in this village, nor a shaman, but I was told that he will heal himself over time.”

“A week?” 

“Perhaps longer. With no nearby ghouls, he cannot feast and heal faster. In the meantime, you must make sure he does not leave the bed and allow the villagers to come in and ensure he is safe.”

Jack did not enjoy this idea. He had hoped that the prior day’s interaction would be the last time he would have to speak with the villagers, but now he had to willingly allow them inside? He did not retreat to the decrypt village only to be bombarded by unwanted visitors.

“Where must I sleep?” 

“Are you so old that you cannot sleep on the floor anymore?”

“Angela…”

“Alright. I will arrange with the carpenter to supply you with an additional bed.”

The body groaned, reminding Jack that his room was still being invaded.

“I want the bed away from it. I refuse to share a room with this thing.”

“I forgot how demanding you can be, Sir Morrison.”

He glared in her general direction. “And do not refer to my name. I am Jack.”

“Of course, Sir Jack.”

“Leave me be imp.”

“As always.”

[starryseung]

birthday boy + hand kink

◜03 kinktober◞

! : 0.9k , hand kink , soft dom!chan , fingering , chan uses his fingers on you at the gym

“chan let’s go~” you whine, scrunching your face in annoyance when your boyfriend doesn’t listen to you for the umpteenth time. he’d spent hours in the gym, and you simply couldn’t believe how much stamina he had to work out for so long; no wonder he had developed such a physique in such a less amount of time.

okay, maybe the fact that he’d taken you out to the empty gym to give him company wasn’t the only thing annoying you. his arms; they pissed you off like hell. you couldn’t stop yourself from practically drooling over them, staring at them as if you were a child standing out of a candy shop with your favourite candy on the other side of glass.

there was absolutely nothing stopping you from pouncing on him and making him use his pretty fingers on you, except for the fact that he’s gonna be such a fucking tease about it; “awh, my baby couldn’t control herself from drooling all over my fingers?” or “oh y/n, you can’t hold yourself even when we’re in public?”

and god forbid, if he’d found out the number of times you’d dreamt of him using his pretty fingers on you at said gym when no one was around, his digits perfectly snug into your hole, curling just enough for them to press against your sweet spots. just the thought of it could make you wet, and you didn’t realize when a small whimper left your lips, until chan called you out for it, eyes wide in confusion.

“you okay?” he chuckles and you shuffle in your seat, eyes glancing over his flexed arms that held the dumbbells mid-air. your thighs subconsciously shut close, and chan seems to get a hint of your problem, muttering a small ‘ah,’ under his breath before placing the weights down after a couple more lifts.

he leans over to place them carefully back in place, walking down to you before squatting in front of your legs, hands resting over each other as he looks up at you. your eyes meet his, but quickly flick back to his arms, his tank top giving you a surreal view of his biceps, sweaty and thick. you hated to admit, but you would beg him to fuck you up with his hands, pushing his long fingers in your mouth to taste yourself after you’ve cum on them for the nth time, your tongue rolling around his digits to suck them dry. you whimper at the thought, thighs rubbing against each other as you screw your eyes shut.

“f-fuck chan— w-want you to use your fingers on me,”

chan smirks, laughing softly through his nose before nudging himself closer to you.

“so that’s what’s getting you worked up. are you sure you want just that, princess?” he brings his hand to rub the inner flesh of your thighs, looking up at you oh-so-innocently as if his fingers didn’t affect you one bit.

“mhmm,” you breathe out, feeling your panties slowly stick to your heat as your breathing grew heavier.

his hand tugs at your leggings and your hips automatically rise so he pulls them off down to your knees. he licks his lips at the sight of the growing wet spot on your panties, his fingers moving to touch them on instinct. he rubs the fabric over where your slit would be, grazing his two fingers until they’re rubbing over your clit. you jolt in your seat, mouth hanging open as he continues rubbing you over your drenched panties.

you both figure out how this was not enough, how you yearned for more, how he wanted to hear more of you. chan takes the next step rather quickly, pushing your panties aside before prodding two fingers around your folds, collecting your slick. you whine at his actions, provoking him to push his fingers in knuckles deep at one go, his breath ragged as you moan out loud, bucking your hips into his hands. his thumb presses against your clit, your hands flying up to hold his arms tightly, whimpering as he sets a steady pace with his fingers in you, curling them just right, scissoring you enough stretch you out.

with two fingers thrusting in your tight cunt and a thumb pressed against your clit, when he brings his mouth down to traces your quivering folds with his tongue, you spasm under him, thighs shaking violently as you cry out, cumming around his fingers; his tongue laid out as he laps up against your folds. your nails dig into his biceps as you feel numb all over, the stimulation helping you ride out your high.

he pulls his fingers out of you with an obscene pop, groaning at how your juices coated them, before grazing them over your mouth, pushing them between your lips. you moan out as you roll your tongue around his two fingers, sucking and gagging around them as you feel yourself get wet again. chan couldn’t hold himself back at the sight, his pants slowly getting tighter as he watches you suck his fingers as if it were his cock.

you grind your hips against the leather seats you were seated on, breathing heavily as you prompt him to edge you again, but he pulls his hand away, standing up to grab a towel from the stand beside you before cleaning his sweat and kneeling down to press the rough fabric against your thighs to clean you up.

“let’s take this home,” 

“princess.”

taglist; @joengni @cherryeol04 @bruh-changbin @yooniversalstudios @ann03254419 @yourdaddychan @nightshade-minho @yangomangos @yunhoesss​ @sonnensplitter @soya-zz (message me if you want to be added!)

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