#imagine letting your son who just barely survived a murder attack out of your sight a second time

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

Batman: Death In the Family Interactive (2020)

You know what scares a criminal? It ain’t a guy dressed like a bat.

[midnightdragons]

Loki x fem! reader Soulmate Au

Part (1/?)

(By the way, this is the first time I've ever posted anything as in a story on here. Tell me if you like it and also if there's any mispelling or things like that. Hope you enjoy! ❤)

Warnings: Mention of death, murder, blood and some strong language

In a world filled with both, incredible science and magic, soulmates were the center of most everyone's desire. Each worldy and otherwordly being, midgardians, asgardians, vanaheimans and much more had a soulmate to call their own. Wether one's soulmate would be of similar age or even born within the same world, was unknown. The only clue to when one found their soulmate was that a mark appeared once one locked eyes with them. Wether tiny and barely visible or humongous it almost covers one's whole body, both soulmates would always have the very same mark in the very same spot

♧◇♤♡♤◇♧

"Auntie, auntie! Look what I did in class today!", cheeks flushed with excitement the young boy ran up to you, proudly presenting his masterpiece. Said masterpiece being some odd shapes, snippets of colorful paper and a big misshapen heart in the center of it all. Artists would gouge their eyes out at the sight of it but you loved it nonetheless. How could you not? It was your nephew's drawing after all

"I made it for you. The bestest auntie in the world!", he beamed up at you

You mustered up a tired smile and ran a hand over his head. "It's beautiful sweetie. I love it so much that I think... we should go and get some ice cream!"

Initially you had planned on simply going home and taking a nap on the couch. But seeing your nephew's sparkling eyes at the mention of ice cream... you couldn't change your mind now

Yes... he did have you wrapped around his little finger

♧◇♤♡♤◇♧

"Austin? Where aaare you?", muffling his giggles with his hands, your nephew slid further into the shadows of the small cabinet, not realizing, he was not being quiet at all. You've long since heard him giggling and moving around. However, you didn't want to ruin the fun and pretended that it wasn't obvious he was hiding in the kitchen cabinet to your left. So you continued, looking under the table, behind the curtains, lifting vases and even going as far as to open the fridge!

You fake sighed. "I guess my darling nephew disappeared. I can't find him anywhere", you dramatically covered your eyes, "Hmmmm. I guess I'll have to go get a new one"

You smirked when you heard the panicked

"No!", come from your cabinet and opened your eyes just in time to see him tumble out and storm towards you. "You can't leave me! I won't let you!"

You laughed and picked him up. "I'd never leave you pumpkin", he only tightened his hold on you in response, nuzzling his face further into the crook ok your neck

Perhaps this wasn't the beast choice to get him out of his hiding spot because he surely-

"Mama and Papa left me"

Just as you feared. You really shouldn't have said that. Ever since he could understand you weren't his mother he believed his parents left him

"They never wanted to leave you sweetie. But they had to go"

Had to go your ass

"Why?", he looked up at you with his now glossy eyes

"They weren't allowed to tell me. So they only asked me to take care of you and I promised"

Lies but whatever

"Do you know where they are?"

You gulped and rubbed soothing circles over Austin's back. "No"

His voice was meek now. "Will they ever come back?"

It broke your heart to see him like that

No, they wouldn't ever return

"I don't know sweetie"

"Do you miss them?", tears glistened in his eyes

You kissed his forehead

"Always"

♧◇♤♡♤◇♧

From the corner of your eye, you watched Austin play with action figures and Lego. He seemed so content, smiling. You wished you could forget your troubles like him

You really felt guilty for not telling him but how could you. How could you convey to a child that his parents didn't leave but died? Murdered by an army of aliens he didn't know existed?

Almost seven years ago, when you still worked for *the* Tony Stark and were actually really close friends with him, shit hit the fan

Almost seven years ago, all hell broke loose when Loki, known as the God of Lies and Mischief, opened a huge portal, leading the Chitauri to attack and overthrow humanity.

Tony had told you to make sure the civilians were as safe as possible and to lessen some of their fear. That was when it all went down the drain

♧◇♤♡♤◇♧ ~flashback~

"(y/n)! (y/n)!"

You froze. Shit. This couldn't be. You were imagining things right?

You turned around and to your horror, your sister and her husband were ducking behind some cars. Of course you ran over to them. They were your family

"What are you doing here?", you hissed, "You weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow!"

Before they could answer, a huge explosion made your ears ring. It was close. Too damn close

You ushered them away from the main street and into an alleyway. Left. Right. Running. Ducking. Hiding. Listening

Finally you could deem the sounds of danger far enough away to allow a break

Your brother-in-law was huffing and puffing, having helped your sister stay upright and holding his only few months old son

You quickly checked him and your nephew for any injuries and then tended to your sister. Smart you always carried a thin scarf on your person and that was why

Your sister had little cuts, bruises and scrapes all over. What you used the scarf for though, was the scraggly looking wound on her calf. That was why she couldn't walk properly and you knew only the adrenaline made her able to even move

You then took Austin from your brother-in-law and hushed him when the baby began to cry. God, your brother-in-law looked like he was going to faint

"We wanted to suprise you", your sister gasped, struggling to breathe, "You have so little time and we knew you have a day off today, so we though we could go out for dinner"

"Charming but right now, we can't stay here. It's to dangerous. Get up"

With her husbands help, she did

With the baby now in your arms, they were a lot faster too. You managed to sneak around like that, checking if the coast was clear ever so often

Suddenly you heard something which cause you to pause. You motioned for the adults behind you to not move either. They were a small distance behind you

Beeping... to the left, no behind you. Around where... they are...

The beeping sped up and it took you mere seconds to recognize the sound

You swivelled around to yell- but you were too late. Those seconds were mere seconds too many

The explotion burst forth right behind your sister and her husband

You were thrown back and slammed on your back. The force of the fall pressed all air out of your lungs

You didn't remember for how long you laid there, probably only a few seconds, but you knew you were tightly cradling your nephew

Against the protest of your screaming muscles you got up and looked around*

"Anna?", you called out. You didn't dare scream. Any of the Chitauri could be nearby

"Anna? Mick?", you took tentaive steps toward the huge pile of stones. The explosion had ripped apart the two inner walls of the buildings on either side of the alleyway

The ground was covered in stone as small as a pebble to bigger than your torso. Glass splinters creaked beneath your feet

You came to a halt in front of the piled rubble

"No, no, no... please no, please...", you whimpered. All begging could not change facts.

You saw the blood leaking from the bricks.

You knew that it was where they stood. And you knew that they couldn't have possibly survived

Tears welled up in your eyes but you had no time to cry

Grunts and roars far too close for comfort could be heard. They were there to check for any survivors.

You could consoder yourself lucky that your nephew was knocked out cold from the shock of the explosion. Had that not happened and Austin started to cry instead, the Chitauri would have surely found you

You had to get out of there. With one last mournful glance at the mass of stone, you sprinted away

♧◇♤♡♤◇♧ ~flashback end~

You blinked

Oh god you hadn't planned on sinking into your memories

You hastly wiped away any of your fallen tears and concentrated on cooking again. Luckily nothing burned while you zoned out and Austin didn't notice you standing there like a zombie

You were glad he was here with you. Without him you would've continued to work at the Stark tower, most likely becoming a shell of the woman you once were

With Austin here, you could focus on him, focus on something living. The precious and living memento of your sister

Not like he could go anywhere else

Your father had died only a few weeks before you were born and your mother had passed only a few years before Austin was born.

And Mick was an only child from Denmark. His parents had shunned him for moving to America, they wouldn't even let you speak to them, only stating that "It is your fault our Micky died", and hanging up

You didn't know anyone else of your or his family. That left Austin in your arms

You had left your job at the stark tower, got an apartment in New Jersey and started to work two different jobs to help with the finances. You couldn't depend on Tony to pay everything for you but he had insisted he buy the slightly too big apartment for you since you'd decided not to live in the Stark tower

Though it was a safe building, Tony's enemies often turned their eyes to the occupants and workers in the tower to use as baits or hostages. You didn't want Austin in the picture of said possibility

Though that wasn't the only reason

So you left and cut ties with most of your coworkers and friends from there. Only Tony visited you from time to time. Both of you made sure no one knew that Tony Stark visited (l/n) and her nephew. Austin only knew him as the Tony who always brought gifts

Which were way too expensive, not that Austin knew...

Throughout the day you worked as a 'barista' in a café near Austin's school and at night you worked as a waitress in the restaurant on the lowest floor of the building you lived in

Your new coworkers loved Austin and had bought you some cameras to set up in your apartment. You always turned them on before going downstairs to work. Every fifteen minutes one of the waiters or waitresses would take a peek at the monitor to make sure everything was safe. Now that Austin was older, he sometimes joined you and was allowed to watch how work was done

You were lucky and relieved to have found such good people

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 22: Cleansing Grimfire

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Coven Elders deal with the consequences of their actions. Taylor and Elric participate in a father-son activity. The Council takes some responsibility.

[READ IT ON AO3]

The bloodwraith’s neck cranes back at an unnatural angle and it howls to the wind, bloodstained talons reaching out and forward; compelled to attack.

His breath catches in his throat and Taylor squeezes his eyes shut. He braces himself—

For the pain that never comes. The icy grasp of a fate worse than death that he still can only imagine; still must only imagine.

Peeks a tentative eye open to the sight of Cassiopeia’s severed hand stretched out in Vera’s quivering grasp.

A firsthand witness to how the small and humble sparks in Vera’s breast ignite into a blaze that consumes her soul.

“You will not.”

The entire Garden watches in bated awe as the wraith obeys. Hovers back far enough where Taylor can breathe without the scent of rancid flesh in his mouth.

Oh he’s still scared shitless — and rightly so. But just like he can feel the bad things hovering in an aura around them so too can he feel the good.

And the sudden rush of adrenaline, defiance, bravery in Vera is incredible.

The Elders are still together, still united, but their understanding is unmistakable. They know whose hand Vera wields. They realize what has changed with its discovery.

The only thing that hasn’t settled in to their collective hive mind is that it’s over.

“You killed Cassiopeia because she was the necromancer — she was the one in control of whatever creature she summoned and you needed that control to be yours and yours alone. You didn’t realize that you screwed yourselves.”

“‘Cause they were busy screwin’ everyone else,” huffs Nik behind him.

Millet has gone pale, the dark circles under her eyes pronounced against her almost skeletal pallor. “Her body became a totem.” Is that a hint of resignation in her tone? Or maybe just wishful thinking.

“Specifically her hand,” Cadence confirms with a nod, “like the trophies Reimonenq kept in his mortal life. If you had conjured up any random malevolent soul instead of going for sick, twisted irony maybe it would have been different but…”

“But she who holds the Hand holds the power.”

There was a lot about the plan that had been left up in the air. When, or if, the Coven Elders would even arrive. If they would summon the wraith immediately or attack in some other form. If there was even the smallest chance they could be convinced to stop the needless violence; their grab for power stayed in favor of the cooperation that should have happened in the first place.

But the one thing they had all been forced to agree upon was the one thing no one wanted to think about.

They had the totem, now what?

An eye for an eye was the most logical, solved the most problems. But then how were they any better than the Elders?

They may have been forced to agree but that didn’t mean it was without argument.

Cadence had been the last one to exit the underground tomb, his gruesome work finally done. Cassiopeia’s hand had been wrapped in Cal’s flannel and held out between them all as an unholy relic.

It made sense for Nik to take it — for a Nighthunter to be the one to make the final blow whatever that blow may entail.

Instead he held it out to Vera; insisted she take it. “You’re the one who’s suffered the most here. He’s your kin.” And polite Vera, kind Vera; Vera who had been tangled up in this out of fear and a desire to save Kristin and had resigned herself to suffering a curse she could never lift, took the bloodied bundle and made her peace with accepting the burden.

Never said what she planned on doing — it was just assumed she’d send the creature after the Elders; wield the totem the way a hero wields a sword to deal the dragon a final blow.

Maybe it was something Vera didn’t know herself. Couldn’t know until she was in the moment and had to make the choice before hesitation was their undoing.

Well they’re in that moment now. Taylor watches her square her shoulders, her bare hands grasping real flesh for only the second time in her entire life, and knows she’s chosen.

The wind rustles her curls silently as Vera holds out the severed hand in offering to the bloodwraith.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” The words come out of Daniels’ mouth but they don’t sound like her at all — there’s no restraint in her fear now.

Vera doesn’t deign the woman worth an answer. Just watches, waits for the creature to move. But even it doesn’t seem to understand what her intentions are.

Vion sneers — but even that wavers. “Foolish mortal child. If you wish to live you will keep that thing away from its totem.”

“I won’t do it —” —she whips around to Taylor behind her, tears stinging where they well at her eyes— “— I can’t do it, Tay. I can’t kill them.”

She can’t. If she does, she’s no better than they are. She’s the monster her mother is, the monster her ancestor is. Whether it’s true or not it’s how she feels so he feels it too.

“Baby girl if there was ever a time to grow a spine… now’s it.”

Vera stares over his shoulder to her mother’s wavering figure straining down the garden path.

They knew taking her out of the hospital was a necessary evil. She was the wraith’s last true victim. Her presence made some of the uncertainties of the plan less so because they knew it would come to finish what it started. But the fight, rushing her out of the fray; it’s proving to be too much. Ashen-faced and every muscle in her body screaming let me rest but she doesn’t.

Lady Smoke does not run from her enemies.

“Momma…”

Yet even with everything they’ve been through, despite her daughter refusing to leave her hospital bedside, there’s the furrow of command in her hardened face. She looks at Vera in the same way she had back at her club. Not a mother; a mob boss.

“Tonya, don’t —” Katherine tries to stay her advance but she’s shrugged off; hand batted away like a bothersome fly.

“Your whole life you’ve been runnin’ from who you are, Vera Claire. I shouldn’t have indulged it, that’s my sin to bear; lettin’ you make yourself weak. But now there’s lives at stake, includin’ your own. Maybe you still ain’t got the sense to use your gift for me but would you forgive yourself if your weakness killed everyone else?”

Vera can’t believe it. Frankly neither can anyone else. “What — Momma, stop. Why’re you doin’ this now of all times?”

“Because you’ve always been too stubborn to see what needs to be done!”

“No one else needs to die!”

“Then they’ll kill you first!”

“I won’t do it, goddammit —” if Smoke thought scolding her daughter would shame her into acting she has another thing coming, every word pulls Vera back from the murderous edge, “— I won’t be you! I refuse! I refused then and I refuse now!”

Vera’s voice cracks and the dam breaks; tears down her cheeks with the hovering shadow of pure evil behind her and a lifetime of rage and loathing coming out at the wrong moment but it wasn’t she who chose to rip open these old wounds now — so why should she have any mercy, any sympathy for the frail woman who did this to herself.

“We were both here that night. But it went after you — and if you weren’t so obsessed with gettin’ back your damn Touch you’d realize why that is. I won’t do it. I won’t take a life, even like this. I won’t be you — I won’t be a monster.”

And it’s final this time; when she turns away from her mother to face her decision right in the bloodstained face. “Derek Reimonenq was a monster too. I won’t use him and I won’t become him to get what I want. I know there’s another way.”

“You know nothing of the craft,” all of Daniels’ malice shoved into one last push; one last attempt. Her hands twitch at her side but the witch knows better than to act. Acting runs the risk of losing the totem holding the bloodwraith bound — or the wraith itself.

All her power and all the misery she’s orchestrated up to now and she’s reduced to nothing but words. Words that cause Vera to look up at her with pity. The ultimate insult.

Taylor sucks in a breath as she takes a step closer to the creature; can’t help himself even though he trusts her. Trusts she knows what she’s doing and believes in the path she’s taking.

So he has to believe in her, too. Their lives depend on it.

“I know the misery it’s brought. And I know I won’t have a hand in it anymore.” On silent command the bloodwraith opens its ghoulish talons held aloft. And with all of her fear and grief and anger put aside Vera lays the dead witch’s token upon them.

The skin fades sickly pale and bloodless veins spread black and ruinous. A horrific sight not unfamiliar — and Taylor knows in a part of him that’s still tied to the grief of Cassiopeia’s misplaced trust that the unknown magics preserving her body in the tomb lift and allow her to finally rest.

Even accepting the reality that there was a tortured soul powering the bloodwraith like Satan’s battery — he still couldn’t think of it as something with thoughts; something beyond a mindless killing entity. Which probably explains the weird feeling that comes with watching the creature as it looks down at the totem with a curiosity that could almost be called human.

Behind it the Elders close even tighter ranks. He’s not entirely certain they shouldn’t be doing the same.

Then, like all living things the wraith crosses, the hand begins to wither. Flesh pulled taut against skeletal fingers before eating away at itself the way maggots do; reveals the muscles underneath and the tissue between bones until those desiccate too. Until all that’s left are pale off-white bones that fall in little thunk-thunks to the dirt at its… levitating burial wrappings.

Uncertainty hangs over their heads crisp and icy, prickles like needles at Taylor’s skin and tries to choke him from the inside with every breath.

Now what?

The witches strike first. Try to get the jump on the bloodwraith while its back is still turned with three right hands extended and three burning spheres of fire brought together in Daniels’ power and sent hurtling forward.

Like that’ll make a difference.

The blaze collides against the creature’s spine and even manages to set a few tattered edges of it’s billowing wraps alight. But fire is like all things; needs oxygen to breathe and live. And nothing lives that close to the wraith’s existence. Cassiopeia’s hand proved that.

What would have happened if they’d done nothing; if they had fled, or held their breaths and stayed very still? Would they have been spared? Would Reimonenq’s soul take its newfound freedom and flee beyond the Veil?

It doesn’t matter one way or the other. Because they act — they lash out first. So technically there’s nothing against the retaliation coming.

Maybe if they’d kept Cassiopeia alive she could have banished it before the slaughter.

And it is.

The ghastly, gleeful grin Taylor swears he can see twisted back upon its lips will haunt him for some time; whether it’s really there or not.

The bloodwraith makes quick work of the ones who bound it to bone. It may have enjoyed the hunt every other time before but this — this it has been waiting for from the moment it was birthed in blackness and greed. Taking no time to savor their screams.

Not that the Elders go quietly — each new barrage of magic changes the air pressure and makes Taylor’s eyes swim dizzy and confused. They send spell after spell and chant after chant at the bloodwraith’s face, it’s torso, the space between it and the ground. They try to swallow it up with a tear in reality, send blood from their open veins to slake its thirst; things magic might not even be capable of but are made real in those desperate last moments.

As if the universe, the forces Beyond, the things that bind The Fate in rules against intervention give the witches all the power their mortal bodies can hold. In the same way a death row inmate is given a feast for his last meal.

The wraith’s tainted touch is too good for them. Keeps them whole, maybe even alive long enough to continue toying with. It can’t have that.

So it plunges through Millet’s abdomen bodily. Cleaves her in two uneven pieces and the rest of her splattered on the stone wall at her back. The viscera is dark, almost black against the bleach-white bones that emerge like a butterfly that could only come from the mind of H.G. Wells.

Vion’s cloudy eyes are plucked from his skull with veins and nerves snapping like taut strings. His mortal mouth isn’t wide enough to fit the wraith’s claw until it is — but only after flashing the onlookers with the bottom half of the smile he never learned how to give. Like scooping stew out of the pot with knives his organs come out mangled, misshapen.

The smell is awful and Taylor wants to look away but he doesn’t. Forces himself to watch each new torture and indignity those husks are subjected to. Because they are husks now. There’s no way anyone could be alive after that.

Even when he feels Nik’s tension closer than before and a hand inches its way up to the corner of his eye he brushes it aside. “You shouldn’ have to see this,” the Nighthunter whispers. And he’s right. He shouldn’t have to.

But the Coven Elders only have themselves to blame for that. They were the ones who pulled him into the dark and horrible. “I will anyway;” his equally voiceless reply.

And then there’s Elder Daniels. Made to watch the evisceration and mutilation of her kin. The last witches to fall to The Bloody Hand. That’s her fault, too.

It backs her into the Millet-strewn wall but she does not cower. It rakes talons through her throat her gut her four limbs but she does not scream. It hovers in the air over the pile of her it created but she does not look away — eyes brighter in death than they ever were in life.

The hardest part comes after. Waves of nausea and anguish and the taste of blood at the back of his throat that leave him shaking, crying even though he knows there was no other way — that someone had to die. It takes time but the feelings and all their overwhelming wrath do fade.

Belatedly he realizes — the last of the Coven Elders, those tiny wisps of purpose and ill, have left this world.

The fallout of them remains.

The bloodwraith hovers there among its finest work. Takes them in maw dripping blood and tissue stained red and reeking of death and righteous revenge — but still, silent as the grave.

Without tether or ruling hand there is nothing left inside its hollow ribs. Its great work is done.

Elric is the first to speak, voice cracked from exhaustion, and Taylor isn’t the only one who jumps slightly at the broken silence.

“We must destroy the creature before its nature overpowers the echoes of its former self.” Not that he has to tell anyone twice.

“Think it’ll sit still long enough fer us to put it through a woodchipper?” Kristof isn’t joking.

But Elric shakes his head; doesn’t humor even outlandish ideas. “I… do not know.”

Katherine favors her left side as she hobbles close enough for Ryder to prop her up. “We could pursue another necromancer — but the odds of one being close enough to get here in time…”

“An’ I definitely don’ have enough arrows to banish it to the Veil.”

“So we’re fucked?”

“Every passing moment deteriorates its complacency. It will go rabid.”

“If we had the totem —”

“— the Elders would still be alive, so stop lookin’ at me like that mother.”

Through the din of arguments and ideas tossed forward and debunked Taylor sees their guest again. Watches as The Fate holds his gaze then looks out, slow and with purpose. Over the grass and gravel stained black that now shines like glass under the revealing moonlight.

The stars shine much the same but the trails left by Elric and Garrus’ valiant effort in cornering the witches are a different beauty. Something ethereal and as bright as it is dark. Scorched trails of obsidian creating beauty in destruction.

With all the weird and cryptic help they keep giving, he’s gonna need to get The Fate a fruit basket delivered or something.

“Do you have enough strength to do it one more time?”

Elric looks at him with a furrowed confusion — takes a moment to understand before he withers further. “I worry not even Garrus’ aid will be enough to burn the beast. Not alone.”

Taylor’s heart sinks, but Nik catches it before it gets too low.

“So help ‘em out, Rook.”

“Me?”

“You did it before.”

“Yeah but not on purpose.”

“So get Elric to channel it to you again.”

Then his father is at his side with pale palm turned up in offering. “You are not the same person you were then. You may not need my help.”

Everyone’s stopped arguing now; listening intently. Talk about stage fright.

“Yeah I — I don’t think so. The other fae, the ones inside…”

“Not all of us have the touch to do such wonders.”

And isn’t that just great. “Obviously. Why would it ever be easy?”

He throws a look to Garrus, still half-caught in Krom’s arms though looking far less on the verge of unconsciousness. Not that Krom worries over him any less. They catch him looking and their smiles are matched; happy, relieved, sheepish. Makes Taylor have the just-barely resistible urge to shake his head and say “those crazy kids.”

What’s the use arguing at this point?

“Okay. I mean — however I can help.”

Of course the stone troll is reluctant to let Garrus go, takes more than a fair bit of coaxing from Ivy but he does. “I haven’t stretched these muscles in a century,” comes the anticipated complaint, “and now you have me conjuring twice in one evening?” But Garrus doesn’t hesitate as he takes his position back up.

Elric directs Taylor nearest Isadora; doesn’t argue when Nik follows like an extension of him.

“I’ll be okay.” Not that he doesn’t appreciate the support.

“I know —” then, after a beat, “— still. Don’t have to leave you, so I won’t.”

A hush falls with the fae men in their positions. The outcast, the Lord, and the halfling in a triangle around the dormant wraith.

He knows he shouldn’t but that’s never stopped Taylor before. Cautiously reaches out with that feeling inside and tries, more out of curiosity than anything, to search for anything that remains of Reimonenq within its cursed bones.

But he’s just met with a void. Blacker than black — no revenge, no vendetta to carry out; nothing at all.

So he pulls it back… and feels the faint whisper of death like velvet on his cheek.

It’s as ready as they are for all this to be done with.

Not that he was expecting a lesson on a chalkboard or anything — Conjuring Grimfire 101 — but there’s a distinct lack of any kind of instruction that leaves Taylor more than a little lacking. Has him looking back and forth to mirror the men in everything he can see.

One minute the uncertainty is there; building inside of him a threatening mass of the unknown — and then it isn’t.

It’s just gone.

Whatever takes its place—not confidence, not quite—is enough, somehow. He knows it’s enough.

Looking down Taylor isn’t surprised to see wisps of black flame licking at his palms. Both enveloped and not, but not a burn in sight and so so beautiful.

It doesn’t take much. Barely even a gesture but moreso the power to let the grimflames take to the world beyond him.

Taylor, Garrus, Elric — they aren’t three people and three flames anymore. They’re one in the same; send their combined will forward. Rushing, racing on still winds lapping and hissing at one another until they seek home in the only thing they can.

A column of midnight fire erupts towards the sky as the bloodwraith is consumed. The last of its flesh, the tendrils of cloth, the thrice-burned bones engulfed in a fire that bathes the entire garden in light.

Taylor prepares himself — muscle memory — for a stinging wave of heat that never comes. And the sight is as captivating as it is terrible, as magical as it is destructive. Colors without names taking the wraith’s shape within the black — aberrant and awe-some.

Higher and higher the grimfire clamors for the abyss; seeks home in a darkness just as endless. The colors within grow to a blinding brightness as, within, the creature is devoured.

The Council of New Orleans watches as one. Blooded and bruised and alive. Shadows of light in lashes across every face like a ritual of cleansing.

Cadence shoulders the combined weights of Kathy and Cal; holds them up with tears in his eyes.

As Kristof watches, jaw slack, Octavia lumbers up to him with blood-matted fur and noses at his palm, turns a golden gaze up to the place where the fire and the heavens meet. Even Isadora finds herself held captive by the sight.

Vera’s hands cup her elbows, the glowing shadows catching on her curls and every teardrop that collects at her chin. Behind her Tonya stands shrouded in the dark of her daughter’s figure. The only one focused on something else.

But it makes sense. Don’t ask him how but it does. It isn’t just the bloodwraith that is forced to make peace in the fae fire’s glow. It shines on all of them and chases away every shadow left in the chambers of their hearts. Leaves within Taylor a feeling of profound peace; of understanding.

From tip to temple the remnants of the bloodwraith scatter upwards, rainbow embers scattering to every corner of the city — further even.

Upturned palms slowly close with curled-in fingers; Garrus, then Elric. Elric who looks at his son with pride to which nothing can compare. Taylor almost doesn’t want to let it go. Wants to let it build and stay in this beautiful monument to everything… everything.

Instead he closes his hands and snuffs out the light.

The curtains close.

Cade pulls away gasping; covers his mouth with the back of his hand with something akin to shame burned into his red eyes. Katherine gives him time; lets the vampire come back to himself with her bare arm still offered; just in case.

It isn’t lost on Taylor — or anyone, really — that the huntress was content to push half a wine glass of her blood towards Isadora de la Rosa. That the vein was a luxury only Cadence was allowed.

Cadence who holds her arm gingerly as he smears blood from his nicked thumb along the skin and lets it heal.

All around them the Mardi Gras decorations still shimmer with delight. Enticing them to forget their worries and relax; to enjoy themselves in a way they might finally be allowed, now. But the night isn’t done yet. Neither are they, no matter how much they might wish otherwise.

Two ashtrays pass between hands. Inside; a thin layer of blood shared among them like a church sacrament. The unspoken rule — take just enough to heal your wounds, because the likelihood that either vampire was willing to part with more than they could afford was slim.

And he cares about the rest of his friends — he does. He’s glad to see the bruises fading from Kathy’s ribs where her shirt is hitched up; to see Cal testing the motion of his arm where Octavia had helped relocate his shoulder. He’s glad — yet it doesn’t stop him from devoting the majority of his attention to Nik.

“No physical signs of a concussion,” mumbles Cade through his careful examination of the man’s pupils; flashes the mini-light from Taylor’s keys between them just in case, “and as any possible wounds would be internal there isn’t much my blood can do that it wouldn’t have done already.”

But Ryder will only humor them for so long. The frustration is already starting to tick in his brow. “Cool, then will you lay off?”

“Nik —”

“I’m fine Rook, see?” He gestures with arms spread wide and what is that supposed to prove? Can anyone blame him for worrying? Would anyone dare to try?

No, not like this. Not when the events of the night still hang over those gathered like an anvil on a very thin rope. Only when it drops it won’t be for comedic effect.

All they need is someone to cut the cord.

Good thing Nik Ryder has never been one to sugarcoat anything. Or hold his tongue for that matter.

“They weren’t wrong, you know, the Coven Elders.”

Which is so the wrong thing to say and gets a couple hundred pounds of angry sweaty werewolf in his face, growling; “The fuck’d you just say, Ryder?”

Even Isadora’s disapproval isn’t so easily contained. “Poor taste, Nighthunter.”

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver. Looks Kristof square in the eyes with a matching frown and a set jaw.

“You could ignore it before, but you sure can’t now. Things around here have gotten way outta hand. Each one’a you only cared about what was right under your noses. I ain’t sayin’ they went about it the right way but to walk outta here with nothing changed would be almost just as bad.”

That he doesn’t end up with a broken jaw is surprising on its own. When Kristof actually steps back as if to listen? Well Hell went straight from frozen over to a winter wonderland.

“Continue,” prompts Elric then, since no one else is willing to offer the floor to him. Why would they? Who wants to be told everything they’ve done wrong? Especially when it leads to… well.

“I didn’ think about the state of things until I saw what was goin’ on inside Persephone. Told myself it wasn’t any of my business —”

“— which it is not,” Tonya interrupts, and meets the glare Vera snaps at her with a hard set to her jaw. “Nighthunters have always been a complicated party. No allegiances, no code of conduct but their own. And now this one wishes to dictate to us all of the things we are at fault for as though he stands on some sort of higher ground?”

Vera just shakes her head, dislike rotting into distaste on her tongue.

“Unbelievable. You still don’t think you have any blame to take in any of this.”

“Do you have any idea what I’ve done to keep this city safe?”

“Oh I’m well aware, mother,” the words lash out on the tip of her tongue; make Tonya recoil however slight. “In fact — that, that right there — that’s half the problem here! That’s exactly what Ryder’s talking about. You stand there actin’ like a martyr when all you’ve done—all you’ve really done—is bully, bribe, and threaten your way into power. How long do you think it’ll keep now?”

She’s no longer the woman who went running at the smallest sign of danger. It’s a thing to behold, really.

And Vera isn’t the only one. Even with all of his huffing and puffing Cal steps up and looks Kristof square in the eyes. There’s a set to his jaw and his eye is still a little purple but hell if he’s backing down now.

“Now don’t you go makin’ trouble for yerself, pup,” his kin warns, but what else could he possibly lose that he hasn’t already?

“Anyone who disagrees with you makes trouble.”

“Yeah, and?”

The younger wolf’s joints pop and crack as he cranes his neck from side to side. Both of them rearing to go even after everything.

“That’s no way to lead a pack.”

Kristof snorts through a cherry-red face. “An’ I take it you’ve got a lotta thoughts you been holdin’ in.”

“You could say that.”

“Until you’re an Alpha I don’t think you’ve got much of a say.”

“He may not, but I’ve a few thoughts, cher.”

There’s a very Et tu, Brute? vibe in how Octavia places herself in the familiar space between the argument. Back then and here in the now Octavia remains a voice of reason to compensate for the one her Alpha just doesn’t seem to have been born with.

His nostrils flare. “Tavvy…”

“I ain’t sayin’ the pup’s right, but you an’ I both know he’s got a point. Things have been good for us, Kristof. Good for the pack.”

“Yeah, why the hell d’you think that is?!”

“I’m not sayin’ you ain’t sacrificed to keep us goin’. An’ I’ve backed you up on every single thing to date. But Kristof Jensen so help me if you raise your voice at me again I will whoop your furry behind to kingdom come and that’s a promise.”

The Alpha and his Beta square off, eye to eye. She commands the space around her despite behind several heads shorter than him. Being part of a pack means something deeper than most can understand and it radiates out from them in viscous tension.

He’s an Alpha; he can’t back down. But she’s his partner — so she won’t.

And Cal, who can’t tell if he has the other wolf on his side or just not on Kristof’s, refuses to let himself be pushed out of the conversation.

“Uncle,” one word that snaps all attention back to him, “you picked up the pack when we needed it most. You know they’re grateful — you know I’m grateful —” and there’s something hidden unspoken in Cal’s words, something from before all this but can’t be held back any longer, “— you were the Alpha they needed when I couldn’t be.

“But the pack can’t be more important than the community it’s part of. You can’t pull away from the rest of New Orleans and call it keeping everyone safe. Not when it leads to shit like this.”

There’s so many emotions and reactions twisting on the Alpha’s scarred face; Taylor doesn’t even attempt to reach out to feel them for fear of empathy whiplash.

So he’s just as surprised as everyone — Cal and Octavia included — when the wolf deflates; sags his shoulders and reaches out for the Beta to find a home crooked under the weight of his arm.

“Now ain’t the time to get into the nitty-gritty.”

Before Cal can object, Octavia squares him away with a single glance. Maybe not now, but soon. And that’s more than before, so he’ll take it.

To everyone’s surprise Isadora steps forward with a steely eye.

“My father was no saint. Since inheriting his seat and estate I have come upon a number of… gruesome things; things he was content to keep from me, and no doubt from the rest of the Council.”

If anyone notices the way her eyes flick to Cadence, they don’t mention it. “But I think that is the point Ryder makes; we, this Council, are supposed to be the ones making decisions for the betterment of this proud city. Instead we have burrowed our heads in the sand, contented ourselves with turning a blind eye to one another’s wrongdoings lest our own come to light.

“We cannot continue like this. The Council will not survive it. New Orleans will not survive it.”

Murmurs of agreement echo throughout the foyer; Elric stands.

“We are tired; we are battle-worn. Yet we have ignored our obligations to the city for long enough I think. If we are to be the ones to bring about a positive change then the time to act is now.”

“Now?” asks Tonya in protest, “don’t you think we should postpone this — at least until Mardi Gras has settled?”

Nik drags two stools forward. Taylor takes the hint and he isn’t the only one — Krom and Ivy join him in grabbing chairs and other seats until everyone has a place to get comfortable.

“No time like the present.”

[sosu-morgue]

Romanced companions reactions to having a child with Soul.

Aww, that’s so sweet

I was going to do this whole convoluted process of who is and is not having a child with Sole since non-humans can’t reproduce, like Hancock - ghouls are sterile.Unfortunately, there are many complications with that which make it too complicated to really enjoy. Curie is a synth, Danse is too, Deacon isn’t so Sole would carry the child but that means a gender neutral Sole isn’t possible.Default reacts will have a neutral Sole. I don’t want anyone to feel left out.

So Sole will be gender neutral and all children will be adopted children taken in by romanced Sole x Companion. It allows everyone to love, adopt, and raise a child while allowing you guys to imagine your own Sole; male, female, or really any gender you want whenever. : )

Context:It was a depressing reality in the commonwealth. This post-war world was changed when Sole emerged from Vault 111, but the harsh world still exhibited no mercy on the defenseless.During their travels Sole found something in need of their help. Or rather, someone.

Cait:Sole, the singular person she cared for dearly, had found a child. An infant to be exact. The kid was wrapped up in this mix of torn clothing and a section of what looked to be tarp.

Cradling the infant in their arms, Sole had this look in their eye. Something connected to them instantly. Cait didn’t know that look, but she had a guess. “Don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’.”

Sole seemed awestruck by this child. A young boy with a tuft of brown hair and hazel eyes. “He has the same eyes as Shaun…” They said quietly, like a shocked response under their breath. “It’s… kind of funny. He looks a lot like Shaun, actually.”

Cait stared at Sole who never looked up for even a second. It didn’t take long for Cait to figure out what Sole wanted to do. Though they still fought to save Shaun from the Institute, they couldn’t shake this feeling.

“The hell we doin’, Sole?” Cait’s usual harsh tone caused Sole to glance up, a worried look in their eye. “We can’t just leave the little noise maker here. I know you still got Shaun’s crib.”

Sole smiled and reached to give Cait a hug with one arm. The red haired woman just shook her head. “He’s… kinda cute lookin’. For somethin’ that cries nonstop.”

Curie:Now she didn’t need a lot of convincing. She was more than thrilled to see the infant Sole brought back to Sanctuary.

She held the child, rocked them, and read them stories. She learned all these practices from various surviving books as well as Sole’s instructions. Curie felt so deeply connected to the infant the second she held them.

This affection came as a surprise to Sole and a very welcome one at that. She spent as much time as she could with the new child in their life, sharing parenthood was never something she thought about. She didn’t think it was a possibility considering herself as a synth and Sole searching desperately for their own son.

“Sweet little thing…” Curie held the child close, hugging them to her chest and kissing their nose. “I love you.”

Danse:His life was a… complicated and confusing mess since he was kicked out of the Brotherhood. As a synth he believed his life was an affront to humanity, a threat to future of this world. The Institute created him in a lab, he was not born, he had no family.

Well, expect for Sole. They became his only family and he was thankful, even though he didn’t understand why Sole chose to be with a synth.

Now the complicating life he lead with Sole got even stranger. He figured, before he discovered he was a synth, eventually he would have a family and possibly a child. He would age, he would have to retire from active duty. Something he never wanted to happen, but now that he wasn’t with the Brotherhood…

He held the infant in his arms up, careful to support their neck and head. He had no idea what to do, this was far more confusing than anything else.

But Sole knew what to do, Sole knew everything from the very beginning. Which made sense of course, they had a child before so of course they knew more than Danse.

Yet he held the child, felt how soft their skin was, how they smiled until their face turned red.

And he fell for the child immediately. It was difficult, he didn’t know what to do about this, he didn’t know if he should say this or if this wasn’t normal.

Sole placed a hand on the baby’s head, catching Danse’s attention. They smiled at him and he grinned back.He never thought much about a family outside the Brotherhood and now he wished he had before. He loved the promise of this new civilian life.

Deacon:He missed his wife dearly, he always thought about raising a child with her. Of course he knew that wasn’t possible now, but back then… it was a different world.

Holding this child in his arms he patted their back to calm them. Sole had this sweet, loving expression as they watched Deacon with the child. Deacon was surprised he had imagined it so accurately, specifically how it would feel to hold a child of their own.

This infant was all he wanted as a family. The kid wasn’t a big crier, they seemed more into staring and touching than anything else. When the infant grabbed the rim of his glasses he chuckled. They were reflective and that was perfect for the kid.

“I think they’re digging the shades, Deacon.” Sole took a step back, watching Deacon’s smile widening.

“Of course, they have good taste.” He lifted the infant up, watching them holding the sunglasses to their mouth and sucking on them. “I didn’t mean literally.”

Hancock:The kid was cared for certainly - it was unfortunate that the parents were part of a violent gang ambushing caravans. Sole had to stop the attacks, they were crippling Minutemen supply lines to settlements. Sole and Hancock had no idea there was an infant down here until they heard the cries.

Sole took a shine to the kid the second they found them. Carrying the infant out of the dilapidated super duper mart, Sole found themselves unable to let go of the kid.Then Sole proposed the… option of taking the infant back to Sanctuary and raising them. It was sudden and unexpected, Hancock had no idea what to say.

So Sole suggested that they take the kid in, but Hancock didn’t have to be there. They simply did not want to force anything on Hancock especially since this was such a sudden turn of events and a huge commitment.

Hancock hesitated, he didn’t know what to do. All he really knew was he was in deep with Sole, he didn’t want to leave their side. It took some time, he took a few days to consider it.

In the end he saw how much Sole loved the child, how much they doted on them. He figured Sole was the person he wanted to be with, if there was anyone he wanted to raise a kid with… Sole was definitely the person.

At the end of it all he took up the responsibility. After all, someone had to be mayor when he retired.

MacCready:Having a kid was nothing alien to MacCready. He loved Duncan like his life depended on it. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his son and he didn’t think he would have another child anytime soon.

Yet here he stood, Sole at his side cradling an infant and cooing to them. Sole loved the child, adored them with everything they had. The kid would want for nothing under the protection of the pre-war survivor from Vault 111. Between Sole, the Minutemen, and Sole’s network of loyal friends and factions - this was the most well protected child in all the commonwealth.

When Sole raised the child to MacCready and he held the infant in his arms, he was smitten with them. The infant held his finger, all bubbly and just happy to be there. Such a sweet happy little child so curious and excited.

He held the infant close, rocking the baby until they grew tired. When the infant fell asleep in his arms, such a content look on their face, MacCready realized Duncan had just got a sibling.

Sole was glad because they already knew the kid would be staying with them in Sanctuary. There was no other option. With MacCready and Sole’s experience raising children, they both were ready for this one and more than happy to take the child in.

Nick:In this dark, grisly, and struggling world raising a child seemed impossible to Nick. For more than one reason for Nick, obviously him being a synth made having a child with any relationship he started would not happen.

Still people raised children and they grew up either in the commonwealth by wanderers, by settlers, or people living in the few towns in the area. He found it rather hopeful, he was glad to see people still trying to live their lives. Seeing the kids run around Diamond City was always a welcome sight.

He never thought about caring for a child himself. There just wasn’t that option, not until he arrived in Sanctuary seeing Sole in their home holding an infant in their arms.

The kid was not Shaun, he knew that. Shaun was older than an infant, they learned that from Kellogg’s memory. This was another child, he didn’t know where from but seeing Sole carry them close…

Nick sat down across from Sole, sure to be quiet as the child slept. Sole gave him an almost nervous smile which Nick returned. He figured this was how it would happen. Unexpected, surprising for sure, yet he welcomed the chance to raise a child with Sole quickly.

Piper:She was always trying to raise Nat, always trying to keep things together. Between work, raising her sister, and crossing the commonwealth with Sole she barely had any time to herself.

So when Sole and Piper found a child in the home of some farmers that had been murdered by raiders, she didn’t know what to think.

Sole took the child back to Sanctuary, resting the exhausted and upset infant in Shaun’s old crib, they took a serious look at their options. Watching the child sleep, Sole knew exactly what they wanted. They wanted to move on… Sole still had Shaun, the synth child made by the real Shaun, who was gone now.

But giving Shaun a sibling, having the chance to raise a child… Sole felt a compulsion to have this chance.

Piper wasn’t against the idea really, she just didn’t know what to do. How to raise a child in the commonwealth wasn’t an easy task. Seeing Sole coddle the child brought a smile to her face.When she cared for the infant, she grew attached quicker than she anticipated.

It didn’t take long before she and Sole agreed to raise the child together, Shaun now had a sibling, and Nat became an aunt.

Preston:He was proud, thrilled to get this chance as a father. He wanted a family, he wanted to make the world safe enough to have a kid and a significant other like Sole.

Now, with the General of the Minutemen, and the Minutemen themselves connecting all across the commonwealth. This was the most secure they might ever be.

When Sole found the child and shared their plan with Preston, he was happy to take on the challenge of raising a child with them. He adored the child, dedicated his days to caring for them and making the world a safer place while they grew up.

He was the happiest he had ever been, it had been far too long since he felt this hopeful for the future. Rebuilding the Minutemen made him hope for the best, but it wasn’t the same.

Now he had someone he loved, a child he would give his life for, and a people he could trust to do right by the commonwealth.

His life, even though he still fought against raiders, mutants, and so many other threats, was perfect. He had everything he ever wanted and never imagined he’d have.

With Sole and his own child in his arms, he knew everything would turn out just fine.

[blankdblank]

My Pearl Pt 12

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars,  @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor, @thestorybookmistress, @abiwim, @here2have-fun, @onewithleaf

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - 

…

Your shift was over and back through the main house you were led by the hand straight to Thorin’s bedroom. His grin spread and straight through his closet doors you followed him to the wall of shoes in cubbies his hand landed on as you eyed the ten by ten room with suits and clothes organized by occasion and color with an island in the middle. With a firm nudge it eased back revealing the fifteen by ten bare portion of the massive closet. In a low purr his arms circled you, “See, plenty of room. We can set it all up,” a distant doorbell sounded and by the boot steps entering the front door you heard the boys entering to help with the move.

Easily they moved your clothes as Thorin handled the transfer of your lingerie and hamper as you moved your toiletries and the toys Thorin had stashed inside your nightstand while the boys were distracted handling your trunks and shoes. Lastly as Thorin ensured your closet was properly organized you transferred the food left in your fridge and pantry to his, soon joined by the others to finish the job before they hugged you both tightly and raced off home for their own late date nights.

Nipping at his lip Thorin showed you back to the closet beaming as he noted the setup was much more pleasing, while it mirrored his, with your fancy dresses for special occasions right up against his best suits. The sight only widening his smile even more, imagining readying for the awards show in four days right beside you, topped just slightly by your stop in the bathroom after.

Across the usually empty spare section of counter you had set up your things around the spare sink. A simple few items, toothbrush, toothpaste, floss and mouthwash with a box for your makeup all but made the giant of a man squeal with joy knowing you were settled fully into your home together.

Barely shy of married already in his mind and while you stripped into your pajamas he rushed off to prep a snack for you both he brought to the shared bed. Another romantic night in one another’s arms for a spur of the moment date idea leading into a morning trip off to Dis for your weekly womanly tea gathering while Thorin gathered with his male relatives for a brunch of their own. Another night was spent with you lovingly wrapped in Thorin’s arms and listened to his plans for the night after the awards show was over eventually falling asleep in his arms.

The waking up after came abruptly at the frantic continued ringing of your phones at the news of the early morning release of the Feanorean magazine’s release. Irritated beyond belief at being torn from sleep you squinted at the screen of your phone at the string of messages. Each text message were from your brothers sending you messages to check your email account. A couple taps of your fingers and you felt Thorin wrap around your back resting his chin on your shoulder eyeing the screen as you flipped through the copy of the magazine you were emailed.

The front of the magazine a picture of you taken from one of the days you spent together, just a simple picture with you in a sweater with curls pooling over your shoulders as you smiled softly.

The first page you translated for Thorin as it was written in Old Quenya, starting with your history and education next, not skimping on your ties to your Grandmother and the others in the Bakers Dozen.

The third to last working your accomplishments and your future, not so subtly hinting that those from Valinor displaced by the wars won’t be down for long. You would find your own places and rebuild your cultural mark in the culinary world again. All together a hopeful message only adding to your place as a symbol of a new future for yourself and your people.  

The final two pages delving into the meal you had served him complete with pictures and thorough descriptions. His final summary praising you on how you had improved your family recipes and a hope to see your own creations in the future ending with a bolded 3.5, a solid middle ground between what your brothers and the public wanted.

Setting the phone down you couldn’t help but let out a squeak and giggle at Thorin’s arms tugging you back to your former spot trailing his lips across your cheeks. “I am so proud of you.”

Giggling again you rolled onto your back easing your arms around his back at his lips finding yours. Easing back his forehead pressed to yours and you lowly replied, “Not that I don’t love celebrating with you, but we only have a couple hours until we have to get to your show.”

Chuckling lowly he eased onto his side wrapping you in his arms kissing the top of your head, “We can sleep, my Dearest. Though no doubt we most likely will be getting company for breakfast.”

Nestling closer to his chest you yawned back, “As long as there’s waffles and a hash scramble with a spicy omelet they can all show up.” Grinning widely he tucked his arms around you closer and he shut his eyes.

.

Breakfast was crowded and filled with excited chatter and as talk of what they could do to help out the other female chefs and bakers while you focused on your meal and Bombur’s little girl snuggling against the blanket draped over your shoulder to protect your blouse from her drooling while she slept. It didn’t take long for the house to clear as time neared for the show and carefully the infant in your arms was traded back to her father’s arms with a promise to bring her by later for the dinner they had planned.

.

The crowded studio was filling and as you climbed out of the car you eyed Feanor in the distance. A grin spread across your face and when you reached him you were folded tightly in his arms, at his side you remained under his arm on the walk inside. Through the main entrance you passed through then halted seeing the dark haired tanned and scarred Elf with a his son and a group of fellow scarred and serious Elves all clad in suits.

At your pause Thorin froze with Dwalin behind him watching as Feanor’s arm moved in front of your chest and he tried to guide you behind him back towards the doors silently urging you to run.

That action didn’t go unnoticed as the group and those behind you that you had missed all drew shining poison dart guns they aimed at all of you. Harshly Thorin and Dwalin were torn away from you while one of the men behind you split you and Feanor up and pushed you towards their leader.

Stoically he stood, straightening up with his gun aimed at Feanor’s head while five more circled him holding him back. In a low tone he plainly stated, “I am here to speak my piece and then I will leave. I have no intentions of harming your granddaughter any more than I already have.”

His eyes turned to you and to silence the Dwarves you named him to show them who was behind this, “Eol.”

His head nodded and he looked over your straight expressionless face that had haunted him for centuries while he holstered his gun in his jacket, “Miss Pear. I have committed great atrocities, killed Kings, Princes, brought about the fall of great nations, and yet you are the only one of my targets to survive my plans.”

Your lips parted slightly and your eyes narrowed for a moment as Feanor asked, “Why are you telling her this?”

Eol looked from him then back to you noting you were still holding your unfazed stance towards him then you said plainly, “Let me guess you’ve come to gloat on aiding Melkor and Sauron attack my family? If that’s the case your ego will gain nothing from sharing your past victories or plans with me.”

An impressed tick of his chin to the side stirred him to reply, “I want nothing from you past a few moments of your time. I am aware of what you must think of me. Though I must admit some, of my previous plots weigh heavier on me than others, yours above them all.”

“What plot of yours concerns me?”

His hand moved to his collar loosening his tie and the top button on his shirt revealing Namo’s mark stretched around his neck in his move to take off the chain holding a velvet pouch he removed and held out in his step closer to you. Far gentler than you would have imagined he folded his fingers around your wrist raising your hand to settle the pouch in your palm. “I murdered the Baker’s Dozen.” Before your eyes fell to the pouch he added, “Though I had planned for fourteen deaths. Yours included.”

At that your heart rate spiked and you watched his fingers untie the top of the pouch he reached inside with tears filling his eyes, “I have done terrible things, and yet attacking you was the worst thing I have ever done. I tracked you down to Orcarni and crossed your path, laced your morning tea.”

His fingers drew out a small ankle tag used by Dwarves on a chain with an Evanstar pendant on it that you had assumed had been lost in your time in the hospital, one that is traditionally given to Elleths at a certain age by their matriarch to welcome them into the female line fully. Lowering to his knees as he folded the tag and necklace in your fingers over the pouch he cupped your hand with his, “I had no idea you were with child.”

Breathing shakily you asked him, “You killed my baby?”

His eyes met yours, “I killed your baby. Somehow you survived the poison, a fact that does little to ease what I have done. And I do not expect your forgiveness, I know I will never be worthy of it. Even admitting that, through all I have done this act has rightfully haunted me each moment since committing it.” Outside sirens sounded and he held his gaze on you, “I am here to admit it to you first before I turn myself in. I have tried running from it, ignoring it. I cannot count how many times a blade was too dull, the nooses broke, the trigger jammed against my forehead. Even trying to leap off a cliff, I must face this. What I have done. My death will do little to ease your pain, but in the time I have left I wanted to, grant some closure possibly. Put a face to the crimes committed.”

Standing up he released your hand and his men lowered their guns and followed him out through the doors into the sea of officers. In a breath Feanor was at your side easing his arm across your back as his free hand cupped your cheek and he kissed your forehead as Dwalin and Thorin rushed to you asking, “What did he want?”

Your eyes met theirs while you struggled not to cry, “I didn’t just get sick, he poisoned me and killed Naule.” Their mouths fell open and they hugged you tightly each kissing you on the top of your head.

Feanor, “He came to admit it to her before he turned himself in. She was supposed to be the fourteenth female killed, but she survived somehow.” Sniffling softly you inhaled and exhaled shakily then lowered your eyes to the ankle tag you smoothed your fingers over before tracing your thumb against the Evanstar necklace that glowed double at its return to you. Opening the pouch you looked at the other Evanstar charms and found your Grandmother’s you held by yours then went to search again and brought out Miriel’s you passed to Feanor he held in his palm and stroked stirring a glow in it.

“We have to give them back.”

Feanor nodded sniffling as well, “I’ll make a few calls. Ask them how they want to claim their pendants.” You nodded passing him the pouch he slid in his pocket while Thorin eased his arms around your middle eyeing the pendants and tag between pecks on your forehead. Glancing up you spotted the Durins filing out after getting the all clear from security the Elves had been taken away bringing them all to you to hear what had happened before you convinced them you should keep the show up.

A nudge from your hand guided Thorin back towards the door, “Come on. I’m ok. Let’s do the show.” At his next growling exhale you cupped his cheek and kissed him sweetly, “Come on. He’s going to face up to what he did. We have to keep going.” His eyes tried to leave yours and you shifted to remain in his view, “Thorin, trust me, he will keep his word, just wanted to admit what he did. If he wanted to hurt us he wouldn’t have come here. Prefers stealth. Please, we have to keep going.”

Again he nodded finally feeling his heart calming seeing another act proving your strength of yours, to face such a corrupt man so steadily with guns drawn knowing exactly who he was and what he’s done first hand even more than the Durins ever could. Leaning in he stole another kiss understanding just like Feanor remaining still was the best they could have done to help you.

He turned easing his hand across your back guiding you into the filled stage where your calm demeanor easing the chains and your ring into your pocket calmed the other even more. A few words were traded for comfort to rally the mood back up for Dain to start the intro, making sure to comment on your new rank stirring cheers from the unknowing crowd in the stands above.

.

The show went smoothly and Feanor stood beaming from the sidelines the whole time seeing your jaw dropping dessert he got to steal a taste of after the judging was through widening his smile at you. Back at your house he joined you on the couch admiring the young children climbing onto your lap sensing you had a hard day and needed extra attention at how the adults were acting around you.

Under Feanor’s arm you snuggled as he shared what he had heard from all the relatives to meet up with them when he got back to Greenwood after the news had picked up the story about Eol’s confession with that of his son’s own confessions and those of his men. All choosing to face up to what they had done, though it mattered little to the Elves what time they would be convicted to when full view of the marks around their necks had been explained meaning they were facing something far more excruciating from the Valar witnessing their crimes.

Thankfully the press chose not to over publicize your son’s death sticking to the fact you had been poisoned and had managed to get help in time to save you. Shipped off to an Elven prison you could feel the shift in the air. Already the climate seemed to change as with a name to link the crimes to females in the culinary world pushed themselves out more, timidly of course but it only takes a tiny bit to start an avalanche. Sure enough more would join in stepping up again out of the shadows of these painful wars.

.

The next day Feanor had to head home again but after a tight hug and a promise to come back as soon as he could once the necklaces were returned back to the relatives they were stolen from. When he was gone Thorin and his family made sure to crowd around you for a family day leading up to your flight out to Rivendell that night.

Pt 13

[theharveyofitall]

@baxterwitch

an old meme that was in my ask box: finally answered!

Harvey had rushed right over as soon as Ros announced someone was in the Spellman house. Assuaging Rosalind’s fears of Harvey going alone, he promised that magic and two against one put the odds in the teens’ favor. He abandoned the truck, barely waiting for it to stop fully before he leaped out the door, leaving it open with the keys still in the ignition.

“ SABRINA  ‒ ?! ”

Her house was enormous, but if she answered the phone she must have been in the kitchen. Best to check there first. His shotgun was at home in the hunting locker, of little use to him now. Harvey could still throw a punch ‒ after taking so many he was an expert.

Mud flecked boots stopped short in the door way. Crimson blood emerging from behind the counter, spreading across the tiles, caught his eye. An inhuman moment of omnipotence seized him and he knew without even seeing her who was on that floor.

“ ‘brina . . .? ” An inflection barely raised at the end of her name to form a question, two syllables pronounced with a crack down the middle. It felt like he was wading in water to make the few steps around the counter to find her motionless and soaked in blood from a wound in her chest. A flat dial tone rang from the phone inches from her hand.

“No  ‒ oh, no no,” Harvey dropped to his knees next to her, hands trembling as they held her face. “Sabrina, Sabrina look at me ‒ ” Her eyes remained unfocused and glazed unlike Harvey’s which brimmed with tears. “It’s Harvey, please . . . ”

“Don’t despair,” an unfamiliar voice from across the room caused Harvey to jump to his feet and round in time to gauge a well dressed man around Tommy’s age standing in the door to the hall of mirrors. “She did not suffer.”

There sounded a twang of something releasing ( didn’t he know that sound from hunting ? ) and the searing pain of unknown impact under his lowest rib. An arrow lodged itself in his torso, eyes focusing on the crossbow Harvey had not expected this man ‒ Jerathmiel according to a name tag ‒ to be holding. He stumbled backward against the kitchen island Sabrina lay next to, hand scrambling to grab the counter’s edge. As the older man walked closer Harvey caught sight of his shadow across the floor: a large pair of wings stretched out from his shoulders.

Bracing himself with an agonizing deep breath, Harvey lunged at the angel. “Suffer ? You murdered her !! ” The effort to attack wasted away as a second arrow sunk into his chest. Harvey’s legs buckled before gravity harshly dragged him down on the tiling too. He felt the warmth of blood against his hands, but not his own.

“Vonkinkle.” The man pronounced the surname in its original accent. “Youngest son of the name.”

Harvey’s breaths staggered, choking on his inability to inhale. With one lung punctured the other other strove to provide oxygen, but the arrow in his heart offset every preset for failure his body had. He was . . . dying. Fingers grasped at the arrow in his torso, but he lacked stamina to extract it. For a moment the only sound was his rasping gasps. Jerathmiel located his bag and wiped off a silver dagger Harvey spotted the flash of in his peripheral before it was tucked away.

“Your brother’s death was the catalyst for our heavenly investigation, Harvey. For a Vonkinkle to die so young is, well, it’s quite rare. Your family’s aptitude for witch hunting is why you were deigned to protect this . . . particular land.”

“It’s ‘Kinkle’ .” Harvey spat the copper taste of blood from his mouth. Everything was swimming in shadows now, silver dots appearing every time he tried to focus. Deeply seeded strength fueled his body’s struggle to survive and watch Jeramathiel stand over him.

“We were very cross, Harvey Kinkle, to arrive in Greendale and find our Father’s sworn soldiers had abandoned their duty. Further back than your grandfather’s generation it seems. Heresy!” The blonde man shook his head in the way a teacher might if Harvey forgot his homework. “Thou suffered a witch to live. Furthermore you sinned against divine law by loving this vessel of the Morningstar.”

Harvey’s hand drifted for Sabrina’s whose fingers curled daintily against her palm. The barest of movements set his teeth on edge. His chest throbbed against the arrow, heart stuttering to function as beats slowed. To distract from the rippling pain Harvey closed his eyes focused on the feel of her hand in his. Still a perfect match.   

“Mortal poets wrote a tale of this, didn’t they ?  ROMEO & JULIET. ” Jerathmiel knelt down and gripped Harvey’s jaw, forcing his face away from Sabrina to look at him.  “This was not love, Harvey. Patient and kind, yes, protecting surely, but did you always trust as Corinthians dictates ? No. You both envied. Angered.” Jerathmiel surveyed Sabrina as though she were a discarded sweater instead of a person. “Failed.” The pitying look melted into nothing short of disgust when he looked back at Harvey, who was now shivering against a creeping numbness in his limbs. “Love does not delight in EVIL.”  

Harvey said nothing, only interlaced his fingers with Sabrina’s. In lunacy he thought he felt the softest pressure of a returned squeeze, as if her soul was reaching out to his from beyond.

“Repent of this witch’s love and your soul will be cleansed!” The angel preached, “You will no longer be damned to wander as your brother Thomas was in purgatory. Renounce your promises to Lucifer’s worshiper and rest in peace.”

Harvey glared into the handsome face of heaven’s messenger before saying through gritted teeth. “Go to hell.”

Jerathmiel appeared unphased. His mouth even quirked with a smile. “I assure you, Harvey Kinkle, that is the very last place you will find me.”

A deafening ringing that drown out all sound accompanied a golden flash and the murderer was gone.

Harvey blinked against the light and let his gaze fall back on Sabrina. Her eyes grew opaque and for a moment he thought it was a reaction to the angel’s departure, but next they illuminated. Her chest rose and fell with breath and for a fraction of a second Harvey thought he was dead or at the very least the final sparks of his mind imagined her back to life in some final hope for his heartbroken soul.

But then she was crying. Beautiful, sparkling tears that splashed warm against his face after she sat up and took in her surroundings. He never thought he’d be joyful to see her cry, but this now it was proof she was living. If he hadn’t just been left for dead by an angel he would have called it a miracle.

“Sabrina…” he breathed love into the name as faint as it was said. He faintly heard her sobbed pleas for him to stay, stay conscious, stay with her, but everything was truly fading now. He wasn’t in any pain. It didn’t hurt to raise his arm to press a hand to her cheek and wipe his thumb against her tears.

“Parting doesn’t have to be such sweet sorrow,” he promised and thought he heard her laugh. Hold his hand against her cheek as it fell limp. Tears trickled from his eyes when they fluttered shut. Harvey felt a warmth against his lips and in realizing what it was kissed her back, inhaling her breath as his last.

“I love you.”   

[truthbeetoldmedia]

Killjoys 4x10 "Sporemageddon" Review

“Hello, boys,” says the woman on the floor, but not in Dutch’s voice. D’avin and Johnny exchange glances and realize as she continues to speak that it’s Aneela who’s picking herself up off the floor. Pree approaches, asking if Dutch is alright, and Aneela brushes a hand along his cheek, excited to finally meet the bartender. D’avin and Johnny claim that she’s just drunk, and hustle her out of the Royale before anyone else realizes something strange is going on. They bring her to Lucy, where she reveals that she and Dutch have switched bodies, much as D’avin and Khlyen did, and Aneela needs the green pool they stole from the Lady to go back into the green with them and get Dutch out. D’avin and Johnny aren’t so sure, though, and ask her what the green really is, if it’s a real place. Aneela grabs a beaker off a table, asks them if it’s real, and then smashes it against the wall. She tells them that it’s gone now, but points out that they can still picture it whole, as it was, and broken, as it is now. “That is where we’re going. The green is a living repository of universal memory; a trans-dimensional space that records everything, where nothing is forgotten.” She also reveals that the green itself isn’t what Hullenizes people — it’s the Lady who does that. Aneela and Dutch needed to switch places because Dutch couldn’t get into the green by herself, and Aneela needs D’avin because of his powers over the green.

“We’re all made of memories. But memories aren’t just where you’ve been. They’re who you are. And if I own that, I own you. And when I’m out of here, little flea, I will own everyone.” In the green, Dutch (still wearing Aneela’s signature outfit and braid) is running from the Lady, who is morphing between appearances — first Khlyen, then Johnny, then D’avin, and Delle Seyah. As she crests a hill, she spots a red box, like Khlyen used to leave for her. It’s empty, but she tucks it under her arm nonetheless and keeps moving.

On the Armada, Turin isn’t so sure about “Dutch’s” plan to go into the green. He wants some more details about the plan, reminding the trio that it is still his ship. Aneela barely manages to keep her anger in check at hearing him claiming her ship as his own, but when D’avin and Johnny “remind” her about how they blew up the RAC to save everyone and stop the Lady, she restrains herself and thanks “Turzin” for his sacrifice with a creepy smile and a less-than-convincing accent. Aneela strides off toward the lab with the Jaqobis brothers at her heels, as Turin furrows his brow. Zeph is in the lab running tests on the green, and orders the three out when they walk through the door. Aneela asks Johnny and D’avin why they let their “underling” talk to them like that (she’s seriously bad at this whole acting thing). When Zeph asks why Dutch is talking like that, Turin walks through the door with several Killjoys and says that she’s not Dutch, she’s Aneela Kin Ritt. After all she’s done — murdering Alvis, destroying 3 RAC stations, and attempting to wipe out the people of Westerly — he’s about ready to execute her himself.

D’avin and Johnny pull their guns on Turin, knowing that Dutch’s survival depends on Aneela’s, but Aneela and Zeph ignore the standoff that’s happening and talk logistics. If the woman is Aneela in Dutch’s body, how can she bring anyone into the green? Aneela explains that the plasma operates on a sub-atomic frequency, similar to radio waves, and she can manipulate it mentally despite Dutch not being Hullen. And not only has she accounted for D’avin’s anti-plasma properties, she’s banking her plan on it. Turin is still not about to let Aneela escape into the green after what she’s done, so D’avin gives him the anti-plasma spore to use in case Aneela is playing them after all. He doesn’t trust Aneela, but he does trust Turin. Turin reluctantly agrees, and Aneela gets to work. She creates a temporary antidote to D’avin’s plasma-repulsion properties, surprising him with a needle in the brain stem, and tells him that once they’re in the green and the Lady attacks, he’ll need to be ready to utilize his powers to counter her. He just has to keep her occupied long enough for them to get to Dutch and get out. Johnny’s still not happy about the idea of being left behind, but Aneela tells him he’s not needed — in the green, the Lady can use everything you care about against you, so it’s not a good idea to have both of the brothers in there together. D’avin assures her that they know that the Lady can use family against you, which is why they all had removed Jaq’s location from their memories. Aneela blinks and asks, “who’s Jaq?” and the Jaqobis brothers realize that she doesn’t know about her son. Johnny starts to fill her in, but she cuts him off — if she doesn’t know anything about him, the Lady can’t use him against her. D’avin leans over the pool of plasma, asking how they’re going to do this, and Aneela shoves him in.

As D’avin comes to consciousness in the green, the world shakes around him, and his eyes darken. He’s on Lucy, and Dutch walks through the door in just a shirt, holding a bottle of hokk. Just as he did the first time this happened, D’avin attacks Dutch. As we watch the fight that has already happened, we hear Aneela saying, “The Lady will use everything against us; our greatest fears, our worst moments.” We then switch perspective to Johnny, who didn’t take Aneela’s no for an answer, and is back in the Royale, watching Delle Seyah and Pawter sign the agreement, just before Delle Seyah stabs Pawter. Johnny runs to her side, pressing against the wound, then fights off the fake Scarbacks so that he isn’t forced from her side like he was when this really happened. D’avin snaps back to himself as “Dutch” snickers evilly, and he runs away down Lucy’s hall. We then see Aneela lying on the floor of the forest, Dutch gently waking her. It seems they’ve swapped bodies back, and as Dutch helps Aneela up, Aneela tells her that they have to find the boys. She then spots the red box, and when Dutch tells her it was empty when she found it, she opens it anyway — it seems the box was intended for her, as it now contains an apple. Aneela tells Dutch she can hold the Lady off until Dutch finds the boys, stroking her cheek and saying “be brave.” Dutch echoes the rest of the line from the Season 3 finale, saying to Aneela, “be brutal.” As Dutch runs off, the Lady appears behind Aneela, in Delle Seyah’s skin.

The Lady takes Aneela into the ruins, asking her if she isn’t tired of all the running and fighting. She has a proposition for them, and is using Delle Seyah’s face to get Aneela to listen to her. She has a way for everyone to get what they want — no winners, no losers. She takes Aneela down under the ruins, to a spring that gurgles with plasma. She explains that her race was driven to all corners of the universe, to dominate and rule, but now she is the last. But then she found the green, a place where nothing is lost. She herself is just a memory, and only exists in the green. She gave Aneela immortality, and now she wants something in return.

D’avin runs through the forest in the green, shouting for Dutch, who is also running in search of him. When they meet, they embrace, but then D’avin pushes her away, not certain it’s really Dutch. She kisses him, which puts to rest his worries, and they set off to find Johnny. D’avin has realized that space doesn’t behave like you’d think it would, and that he’s been travelling from memory to memory. They realize that Johnny must be reliving his worst experience, and focus on Oldtown. In Oldtown, Johnny is trying to keep a still-living Pawter out of sight, because he doesn’t trust that she’s really there and alive. Pawter protests that he saved her, and that they can be happy together forever now. Suddenly realization dawns on Johnny: that’s not really Pawter. “Does it really matter?” the Lady asks through Pawter. “Aren’t you tired of being lonely? Wouldn’t this be easier?” “Yes,” Johnny whispers. “But it’s not real.” He then asks the Lady what she wants from them, and she tells him that she’s after memory — something her race never had.

“I’m not talking about the animal instincts that drove us, but something deeper. Something that allows you to remember connections to your past; to imagine your future. It’s what makes you so unique, but also so vulnerable. Even now, you’re looking at me, and you know — you know what I really am, but all you can see is a memory of what you lost. And if you stay here, Johnny, I’ll never die, and you can love me forever.”

Johnny almost falls for it, leaning in to kiss Pawter/the Lady, when a hand lands on his shoulder. D’avin and Dutch are there, and he allows himself to be pulled away from the woman he loved. As the three walk down the street, “Pawter’s” cries ringing in their ears, Johnny asks D’avin to keep him from turning and looking back.

In the Royale, Gared notices that Pree seems feverish. Later, as Gared walks down a street in Oldtown, one of the children who was kidnapped runs up to him, dragging him to where her mother, Ginny, has collapsed against a wall. Ginny seems disoriented, not even realizing that she’s on the ground. She coughs and wheezes a bit, and Gared brings her to the Royale, where Zeph is checking on Pree. Zeph runs Pree’s customers out by talking about his mucus-covered tonsils, and while Ginny shivers in the corner, Gared leads Zeph to a small crowd of people outside the Royale’s doors, all exhibiting the same symptoms. She realizes that everyone who has come into contact with the kids has developed the symptoms, and Turin tells her from the Armada that he’s getting similar reports from all over Westerly. Suddenly, Ginny starts seizing, and falls into a coma. At this rate, the whole moon will be infected in a matter of days, and this seems like a biological weapon, not a natural virus. Turin places the whole of Westerly under quarantine, and while Gared fusses over Pree, Zeph gets to work on a cure, despite starting to succumb to the symptoms herself.

The Nine families of Qresh send a representative to help Turin, having noticed things going poorly. But when Turin asks for more medical supplies to send to Zeph, the man says that that will be unnecessary — they already have a solution. Qresh has enough nuclear missiles to wipe any disease off the face of Westerly and keep the rest of the Quad safe. Once the sickness is gone, Westerly will eventually be useable again. Zeph finishes formulating her cure, but Pree stops her from injecting herself with the experimental concoction. Westerly needs a doctor, he tells her, not a bartender. He can take the risk that it’ll make him worse or not work. Zeph insists that since she’s the one who took the risk, she should pay the price, but Pree tells her that that’s stupid, shortsighted, and cowardly, not honorable. Making the hard call is the honorable thing to do, and it’s what Pip did. “How do I get over this, Pree?” Zeph asks tearfully. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t. Life isn’t about getting over or letting go, just moving ahead. Because there’s nothing behind you but shadows.” Zeph nods, and injects Pree with the cure.

Back in the woods in the green space, Team Awesome Force runs in search of Aneela, but are stopped by a troop of Ferrin soldiers shooting at them. Regretting taking Aneela’s advice not to bring guns, they turn to a memory aboard the RAC, when they were attempting to take it back from the undercover Hullen. They load up on all the heavy artillery, and head back out. Back under the ruins, the Lady tries to persuade Aneela to join her, saying that the Hullen were just a means to an end. What she has planned for when she gets out goes far beyond. But the two hear explosions drawing near — Johnny’s trying out his new rocket launcher. But the Lady keeps sending men at them, until D’avin drops his gun, walks out from behind the trees, shoves his arms forward, and shouts, “Enough!” and all the men vanish. The Lady looks shaken, and the trio continue to advance on the ruins. The Lady pulls out one last offer to tempt Aneela — she can give her her family back. Aneela rebuffs her — her father is already dead. But that’s not what the Lady is talking about.

Dutch, Johnny, and D’avin enter the ruins, but can’t find Aneela. While Johnny and Dutch discuss what to do next, D’avin starts hearing Jaq’s voice calling to him, and he finds the stairs and heads down in search of his son. Dutch and Johnny notice his disappearance, and charge down the stairs after him. They find the Lady, now in appearance like Aneela’s mother, holding him by the throat, interrogating him about his son’s whereabouts. When Dutch and Johnny burst into the room, the Lady drops D’avin. Dutch tells her off for wearing Yalena’s face, but the Lady says that it’s for Aneela. Aneela confesses that she’s taken the Lady’s offer to be with her family — not her parents; Delle Seyah and Jaq. If they let the Lady out, she’ll let them go. Dutch tries to convince Aneela not to believe the Lady, but Aneela walks away after the Lady, stopping to whisper to Dutch, “Remember what you said to me once: you were here; you mattered.” The door seals behind Aneela and the Lady, leaving Dutch and Johnny in shock. (D’avin would be in shock too, but he’s a little unconscious at the moment.) Outside, Aneela tells the Lady she needs to concentrate to be able to bring them out of the green. “Take your time,” the Lady responds, “they should be ready for me when we get out.”

Just as the Qreshi representative is ready to order the missiles be fired at Westerly, Zeph radios in: the antidote worked, and Pree’s viral load is dropping rapidly. She tells Pree he’ll be up and dancing with Gared in no time, to which Pree looks bemused, and asks, “Who’s Gared?” Ginny’s daughter runs up to Ginny, excited that her mom is better, but Ginny is also confused, asking for someone to find the girl’s mother. Zeph tries to work out how the virus could have caused this memory loss, but her train of thought slips away and she looks around the bar, confused.

In the underground grotto, Johnny tries to wake D’avin, while Dutch tries to understand why Aneela would have betrayed them — after everything the Lady has put Aneela through, it doesn’t make any sense. Johnny comments that the Lady is probably going to kill the green with the spore and kill them out of spite, and something clicks in Dutch’s mind. She realizes that the cave-like room they’re in is actually the room on the hidden planet where Yalena is — the room where she hid the spore. Aneela was giving her a message: she’d been there before, and it mattered. Dutch jumps into the memory of Yalena giving her the spore, and when she opens her eyes, the vial is in her hands. She thinks — she hopes — that Aneela is stalling for time while she waits for Dutch to poison the green from the inside. Dutch takes a deep breath and tosses the vial into the spring of green, and the ruins almost immediately start to crumble. Outside, storm clouds gather, and the Lady realizes she’s been betrayed. She and Aneela fight, and when the trio make it outside, they see Aneela bent over on the ground. She tells them that they can’t wait, that the Lady is coming back, and all three run from the toppling stone walls. But as they run, we see another Aneela — the real Aneela — unconscious, slumped against a wall. She wakes in time to see the stones of the ruins flying away in the storm, Khlyen standing behind her. On the Armada, Dutch and D’avin haul Johnny out of the green, then wait for Aneela to surface. The green turns clear like water, and all the vials and beakers in the lab that contain plasma shatter. Just when it seems Aneela and the Lady are lost forever, a hand breaks the surface of the liquid, and the screen smashes to black.

Warm, soft light begins to come into focus, and we see Dutch in bed, with her head on a man’s bare chest. The frame widens and we see that the man is… Johnny?! He tells her they have to get up, with a kiss on the top of the head, calling her Yala. As Johnny gets dressed, we see that they’re in one of the rooms at the Royale, and Dutch is getting the bar ready to open. Johnny comes out wearing a jumpsuit, telling her that he’s got a heavy shift at the plant, and she reminds him to get hops on his way home. Johnny kisses her on the cheek, and says “happy wife, happy life,” on his way out the door. As he walks down the Oldtown streets, he tosses a coin into a beggar’s can, and we see that despite the long, matted hair, the beggar is none other than Turin. Gared jogs to catch up to Johnny and they make a plan to drink together after “the fight.” Johnny bumps into D’avin, who turns around and tells him off for bumping into him, neither seeming to know the other. Dutch comes out and calls to Johnny, who it seems had forgotten his lunch. D’avin eyes Dutch up and down, with no recognition in his eyes. The three part ways, and D’avin, wearing RAC gear, looks at his tablet, displaying a warrant for “Jaq Kin Rit.”

Through this scene we hear Dutch’s voice, telling a story: “My father told me a story once, about a family that got lost in the woods. They left breadcrumbs to mark their path so they’d never forget their way home. But a monster lived in those woods, and one by one, it ate everything they left behind.”

As the camera pans up, revealing large factory-like chimneys filling the Westerly skyline, the voice switches to that of a little girl, saying, “Memories aren’t just where you’ve been. They’re who you are. And if I own that, I own you. And now that I’m out, I will own everyone.” We see two young girls playing Cat’s Cradle, and at the last sentence, one of them (who looks eerily like a tiny Kelly/Zeph) looks sinisterly down the barrel of the camera.

Whaaaaat.

There’s so much to unpack here, so join us for a separate article breaking down the finale, favorite moments about the season, talking about questions we have, and theories and speculation for Season 5!

[imsarabum]

{PART 21} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Just when you thought your night couldn’t possibly become any more heartbreaking; the man you thought you knew turns out to be something you had only ever considered to exist within the realms of nightmares and folklore.

“Perhaps, he didn’t want to be understood, so much as he wanted to be loved. His truth would set her free, but the question remained; would she stay?”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 20} {Part 21} {Part 22}

Silence took its seat in the room as the 11th guest in Jungkook’s Manor as you all sat around the dining table – listening to nothing else than the gentle hum of the refrigerator as Serrena turned to you in her seat. She softened her eyes at you, giving you a warm and reassuring look of kindness as you held your coffee mug close to your chest – wondering how on earth you were going to explain what caused you to pass out upon seeing Yoongi.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I acted so strangely tonight” you piped up as you cast your eyes to the floor – feeling everyone’s stare on you that made you feel like you were back at school, about to give a presentation that you never practised for. Jungkook’s chair was right beside yours, and you could feel his arm as it snaked its way across your shoulders in an encouraging manner. You looked up to Serrena before panning your vision across the many faces staring back at you, but you could hardly open your mouth to begin explaining anything.

“Would you prefer if I gave them...a brief explanation?” Jungkook spoke – his words like a soothing lotion to cool the scorching blisters that were your memories. “There’s no way in hell that I can relay everything to them without bursting out into tears” you concluded, before nodding your head at Jungkook’s request. You’d already felt like you had embarrassed yourself enough for one night; and the last thing you wanted to do was open up the floodgates to your emotions and let them pour down your cheeks.

“It’s an excruciating topic for (Y/N) to speak of, so I hope you’ll all be able to appreciate how brave she was to even tell me” Jungkook raised his head to his mother, looking her straight in the eyes and she nodded her head sympathetically. “Thirteen years ago, (Y/N)’s parents were murdered, leaving her and her younger brother orphaned...” he widened his eyes knowingly.

“Please don’t say...” Serrena swallowed, fearing what Jungkook was referring to, and Jeonju furrowed his eyebrows in pure curiosity and confusion.

“The police reports document that her parents were killed by several knife wounds to their chest and neck area; however, her little brother who saw the whole thing believed that...that they were subject to a Vampire attack – or rather, as he put it...they were murdered by ‘Dracula’”

You cringed at the words ‘Vampire attack’ and ‘Dracula’ – causing you to speak up without hesitation. “Yes, he did say that...but what I believe is that the person who did it was just an insane psychopath who thought he was some kind of Vampire. I don’t think anyone in their right mind actually believes that Vampires exist. That’s the reason why my brother was sent to live in a mental institution, so please don’t get me wrong when it’s put like that” your voice never wavered as you couldn’t believe how much strength you found in the power of hatred. However, as you still found yourself with your eyes fixed between looking at the floor and your fidgeting hands – you didn’t see the looks of undeniable shock and terror that Jungkook’s family passed between each other; especially Serrena and Jeonju.

“(Y/N)’s younger brother, Cassidy...he survived the attack; thanks to two unknown men who came in and took the attacker into their own hands” Jungkook looked to his father – letting every single one of them in the room know that he was absolutely talking about Yoongi.

“Ever since then, my brother has been drawing pictures of what this ‘Dracula’ looks like. And...” you trailed off as you raised your eyes to look Serrena straight in hers.

“Tonight...when I saw his face...Yoongi’s face...” your eyes filled themselves with bitter tears as you tried to keep them in with all your might. “Whoever this Yoongi person is...he is the one who murdered my parents. He looks exactly how my brother draws him – exactly how he described him. This person who Jungkook told me about tonight...the person whose family that the Jeon’s have been business partners with for years; he killed my parents.”

You looked down at the floor once more, completely ignorant to the reactions on the faces around you. Taehyung flinched at your words - feeling the pain in your voice that filled every corner of his soul and exploded like a ballistic missile inside him. He could barely control his breathing - hardly able to look you in the face for fear of your realisation that the one who caused you so much anguish, was his own brother.

Jeonju tightened his jaw – internally cursing the Montgomery’s into hell and back for not knowing that there was another child involved; you. “Gabriel and I were the ones to remove Yoongi from the scene...I had no idea that (Y/N) even existed...how could I have been so careless?” he filled himself with undeniable regret. Serrena blinked several times, completely shocked and taken aback by not only what had happened to you, but the fact that your brother’s deductions were pretty much spot on. The room fell eerily soundless, for what seemed to all of you, like the longest time – before Serrena took it upon herself to remove your coffee cup from your hands to the table, before taking your hands and placing them in hers; like a delicate lily flower.

“My sweet child...I am so, so sorry that you had to relive such a horrendous atrocity tonight” her eyes burned into yours with such candour and compassion that it caused one of your held back tears to roll down your cheek. You nodded your head quickly at her as a means to accept her words of benevolence while you unknowingly gripped her hands in turn. Across the table, Taehyung and Jimin could hardly control the emotions that had since bubbled beyond their tipping points at the sight of you looking so fragile and pained; compared to the blinding ray of opulent sunshine you always presented yourself as.

Serrena raised her head deftly, looking her only son straight in his eyes. “Jungkook; have you explained anything?”  she questioned in regards to the possibility of him having told you even a slither about the world you had never asked to be thrown into; to which he replied with a simple, downhearted – “No.”

You knitted your eyebrows together a fraction, elevating your eyes from your hands to Serrena’s face to see her donning a pensive look – before turning your head around to observe the features of the man you loved. “Huh? What do they mean?” you questioned yourself as you watched Jungkook become more uncomfortable and nervous as the seconds ticked by. Serrena let her head fall back slightly – her throat producing somewhat of a disgruntled sigh as she looked to the lights on the ceiling, before trailing them back down to Jungkook.

“Well darling, would you like to offer (Y/N) an explanation, or shall I?”

You immediately shot your line of vision between the both of them – removing your hands from Serrena’s grasp as you sat back in your seat. At this stage, you could have cared less about the live viewing audience watching you as you took a severely defensive tone towards Serrena and Jungkook.

“Excuse me? What are you talking about? Explain what, Jungkook?” your eyes set themselves on him like fuel to an open flame. Jungkook felt like his skin had just been exposed to the seventh level of hell with the furiousness in your voice as he desperately searched his mind for the words to tell you everything; whilst begging you to stay.

“I said – what the hell is going on here?! What aren’t you telling me?” you raised your voice – causing everyone in the room to stare with a mixture of fear and dread as they knew what was about to unfold before their eyes.

“Jungkook...it’s now or never my darling” Serrena spoke in a barely audible tone as every Vampire could sense your rage and confusion almost become you. Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat that felt much like swallowing shards of glass, before bravely raising his head to look you in the eyes. He turned his body fully towards you – extending his open hand to take yours; to which your natural reaction was to allow it. You watched him collect his words as he softly moved his thumb over the backs of your knuckles in slow, soothing, circular motions. And, unbeknownst to you both, Hyeja and Chaewon had since began holding hands underneath the table as if to pray for a miracle – as did Taehyung and Jimin.

“...Cassidy wasn’t over-imagining things when he told you that...Dracula had killed your parents” his voice was softly-toned yet resonant enough for everyone to hear. You widened your eyes – almost letting out a disbelieving, dry chuckle at his remark.

“What?” was all you could say, as he continued to look at you so soberly and serious. “If this is a joke - it’s not a very funny one...are you all in on this? Is this supposed to make me laugh? Is this supposed to make me feel better? If so – it’s not fucking working” you scanned the table and looked at everyone’s face individually; each person wearing the same, sorrowful look of pity that just caused more confusion to settle within your being. You shot your eyes back to Jungkook as your breathing became more and more laboured.

Jungkook took a final deep breath, as he knew he had to lay his cards on the table.

“(Y/N)...Vampires do exist. Yoongi...Yoongi is a Vampire.”

You blinked several times, searching his face for any lick of a comical jest. “Jungkook...do I look like I’m five years old?” you let out somewhat of a small, manic giggle as you sharply pulled your hand away from his. “Is this your idea of a prank? Do you have a hidden camera?” you stood up as you pushed your chair away with the backs of your knees – scanning the room in the hopes of finding a small camera crew ready to jump out and tell you that everything was all just a big joke. Yet – all you were met with was everyone looking to the floor with sombre expressions; everyone that was, except Jungkook, Serrena and Jimin.

“Are you in on this joke as well?!” you slammed your hands down on the table as you almost roared at the top of your lungs into Jimin’s face – your voice reverberating throughout the entire room that made Mugsy dart out into the hallway in panic. Jimin – almost on the verge of tears across the table, looked you dead in your eyes, and shook his head slowly before casting them back down to his lap; not able to bear the distraught look on your face for a second longer.

“It’s not a joke” he whispered.

“Alright – I’ll play along with this little ‘family’ game that these warped bastards are playing with me. These people are fucking insane” you grew an extra chip on your shoulder as you turned around to face Jungkook who had since silently stood up to converse with you on your level.

“Okay! Okay!” You raised your arms to the ceiling in satirical anger. “Where’s your proof, huh? Show me. Prove to me, Mr. CEO of Jeon Corporation, that Vampires exist. Hmm? Give me the evidence of your farcical claim!” your voice was laced with nothing less than patronising sarcasm as you truly couldn’t believe that he was really trying to trivialize not only your intelligence – but your feelings as well.

Jungkook began looking at every Vampire in the room before his eyes found their way to his mother, who was staring right back at him with the deepest, most tender form of encouragement – as if to say, “You must do this, my son.”

“I said prove it!” you took a step towards him as you screamed right into his face. “You can’t – can you?” you paused, your expression wicked and wild as you felt your own body heat spread across your shoulder blades to dance on the back of your neck. Jungkook never flinched as you fully squared up to him, before he met your stare with unwavering earnestness.

“(Y/N)” his voice near trembled at the harrowed sight of you, knowing full well that you may possibly loathe him for as long as you may live once his next few words left his mouth.

“Everyone in this room...with the exception of you; is a Vampire”

You looked at him with such petty vexation – completely tired and finished with his attempts to get you to actually believe that Vampires were real. “Bullshit” your voice was low and venomous as you looked him up and down in disbelief. “You know, I didn’t think that you’d be the type to belittle my intelligence and take advantage of what I’ve been through to try and pull a joke at my expense” you sneered at him; when out of nowhere, Jungkook grabbed you by your upper-arms, almost causing every ounce of breath to vacate your entire system.

“I’m not lying to you!” his voice raised itself to match your previous ferocity towards him. “You look me in the eyes right now, (Y/N) – and tell me, what reason would I have to lie to you and hurt you even further...when you’re the only person I’ve ever loved?” he paused, clearly able to see the terror his words were causing you; knowing that the realisation of what he told you had just sank itself like an anchor inside of you.

“I’m telling you the truth, (Y/N)” Jungkook loosened his grip on you slightly – his voice softer and more feeble than before. “I...I’m a Vampire. We’re...all Vampires” he whispered.

A million different thoughts raced through your mind as you stared back at him. You didn’t want to believe him – but you felt compelled to as you knew that he was telling you the truth. You looked to your right, seeing the faces of his family staring back at you with mixed looks of pain and tenderness painted on their features that further instilled the reality of Jungkook’s words.

“No...I – I don’t –“ you began to stutter as you started backing away from Jungkook – feeling like a thousand tonne weight was crushing your chest as the small of your back bumped against the marble counter behind you. Serrena quietly rose from her chair – keeping her distance from you to avoid startling you; but it was already too late.

“Get back! Don’t come near me – none of you! Stay back...” your breathing became more erratic as all you wanted to do was run for the door; but you knew you were cornered. “How can this be happening?” you manically questioned yourself.

“So...if you’re all Vampires...and Yoongi is a Vampire...then that means...” you let your sentence die as you became filled with the damning thought of the only person you ever loved – the person whom you gave all of yourself to in every way imaginable having a direct role in the murder of your parents. “He lied to me, he’s been lying to me this entire time - he’s not only a fucking monster but he murdered my parents too!” you let such thoughts fill your mind to the brim, completely and utterly terrifying you to the point of rendering you almost speechless.

“My darling, I can assure you that none of us in this room had any involvement with Yoongi when he chose to take your parents from you. We’re not like him in that respect” Serrena raised her hands slightly in front of her body to let you view her palms as a gesture of honesty. Before you could even open your mouth to reply to her – out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jimin slowly rise to his feet. In a moment of madness, you looked behind you to view a large block of knives sitting on the worktop; to which you grabbed the biggest one and unsheathed it from its stand.

“If any of you come near me – so help me God I’ll –“

“(Y/N), please put the knife down, before you hurt yourself” Serrena’s unwavering, calm voice sounded throughout the air around you as she took a graceful step towards you. Jungkook, along with everyone else, heard your heart rate almost double in that moment as you held the knife out towards Serrena.

“You take one more step towards me bitch and I’ll sink this straight into your heart!” you bellowed at her, your legs shaking like jelly as Jungkook knew that things were quickly spiralling out of control. Everyone looked to one and other in the wake of your words to the Queen; knowing that if it were anyone else, Serrena would have decimated them right there and then.

“I’ve just about had enough of this – if any of us wanted to kill you, don’t you think it would have happened long before now?” Serrena stepped forward to barge straight up to you as you flung your arm up and back to give you enough leverage to strike her; but in doing so, your hand smashed straight into the glass display cabinet directly behind you – causing you to drop the knife and cry out in pain. Immediately, Jungkook went to move forward towards you as your cries brought out a protective instinct in him that he didn’t know he possessed until hearing your pitiful whimpers; however, Serrena was much quicker. In less than a millisecond, Serrena had already taken your hand that held a few small shards of glass in your skin – clearly able to see the blood that escaped your veins below the surface. Not only that; but every single Vampire around you was exposed immediately to the smell of your fresh blood. In general, humans would describe blood as tasting somewhat similar to iron with its metallic tones when mixed with oxygen; but to a Vampire, fresh human blood smelled like hot pancakes dipped in maple syrup on an early Sunday morning. Your aroma was both intoxicating and erotic at the same time – but, due to all of them having previously been conditioned to consuming synthetically manufactured blood, the smell; while it was severely appeasing...it brought them no desire or want to indulge in you. But, as you were the only soul in the room completely ignorant to this fact; you instantly thought of the worst possible scenario that could unfold.

“Oh god...no” you almost trembled, watching Serrena as her eyes locked with your hand, your blood trickling down your skin while she kept a firm grip around your wrist. Jungkook – who was still a few steps away from you could clearly observe you as being a doe caught in the headlights; all while your heartbeat continued to drum in everyone’s ears. Without further hesitation, Serrena proceeded to surprise you by placing her hand to the small of your back – before carefully guiding you in the direction of the chair you had previously sat on.

“Now now, let’s get you on to this chair and we’ll have you cleaned up in no time” Serrena spoke softly into your ear as her cheek almost brushed with yours. “There was no need for that entire spectacle my darling...none of us here wishes to cause you any harm. Especially not Jungkook, for that matter” her voice was wrapped in a certain type of mothering sternness, yet it comforted you in ways you couldn’t quite comprehend. You did as you were told, watching Jungkook quickly pull up a seat close to you for his mother to sit on, before he cautiously backed away from you.

“She’s terrified of me now...I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that” he lamented in woe, watching your fearful eyes try their best to not make contact with his.

“W-what, what are you going to do to me?” you asked, absolutely terrified of what might become of you in the same room with nine Vampires – your blood completely exposed to them all. Serrena glanced up at you, giving her usual radiant smile of warmth as she placed your hand palm-side on hers.

“Let me show you one of the many great things that a Vampire can do” she looked down at your hand – counting three small shards of broken glass. “Jungkook; be a dear and brush up the other broken pieces on the floor; we wouldn’t want (Y/N) to cut her feet, would we?”

You watched Jungkook as he moved without hesitation – going to retrieve his broom and dustpan from a side-cabinet at the far end of the kitchen, before swiftly brushing up the broken glass on the floor and disposing of the shards in the trash. You watched him from the corner of your eye – suddenly feeling awful for causing yet again, another catastrophe that night.

“Now my love, I’ll begin by picking out these shards. Thankfully, they’re only superficial lacerations” she informed you as she began removing the shards with her fingers and placing them on the table. Jungkook – along with the rest of his family, watched as she picked out the last one which so happened to be the larger of the three; causing the release to produce more blood to pump out from your skin.

“Do you think I’ll need stitches for this?” you asked ever-so-innocently, causing every Vampire to chuckle at your child-like question. Serrena then placed her hand on your right cheek, meeting your gaze directly as she spoke.

“Oh no, darling. You won’t need stitches. In fact, if you still don’t believe that Vampires do truly exist...you can decide for yourself after this” she gifted you with a small, light-hearted giggle as she returned her eyes to your hand, leaving you both confused and bewildered at her statement.

“You might feel a tiny bit of discomfort – but I assure you, it will only last but a moment” her kind voice sounded as she placed her hand directly on top of your small wounds. Immediately, you felt a sharp, searing heat that radiated from her hand into yours; but just like she said, it was over no sooner had it started. You kept your eyes on her hand atop of yours the entire time – and to your wonder, you saw your blood almost reverse trickling under her hand; much similar to that of a sponge soaking up water.

“What the...” you couldn’t help but gasp as Serrena removed her hand to let you see that your wounds and blood were completely and utterly gone. Hardly believing your own eyes, you raised your hand to your face – searching both sides back and front and feeling it with your fingers to make sure that she didn’t just perform some kind of great magic trick.

“They’re...they’re gone!” you looked around the room to everyone’s face in amazement, seeing them all smile at you in turn. “How...how is that even possible...” you babbled in shock, completely dumbfounded at how Jungkook’s mother had just done the seemingly impossible.

“Now do you believe us, (Y/N)?” Taehyung’s familiar voice caught your attention as you looked upon his smiling face – seeing Jimin who was donning a similar grin right next to him.

“Holy shit....” you found yourself absolutely mind-blown – looking at Serrena as if she was the second coming of Christ who just turned water into wine; or rather, turned blood and wounds into thin air. A few moments ago, you had been so overcome with fear – thinking that perhaps this whole ordeal was orchestrated by Jungkook to finally get you alone to finish off what Yoongi had started thirteen years previously. But now; you found yourself riddled and burning with questions – almost like an adrenaline rush due to being in awe.

“...can I ask a question?” you still couldn’t find yourself able to tear your eyes away from your hand as Serrena chuckled at you in turn.

“Of course you can (Y/N) – it would be most peculiar if you didn’t have questions that needed answers” she smiled back at you.

“Well...there are a few questions I have”

“Ask as many as you want my love – to your heart’s content”

You swallowed deftly, blinking several times in an attempt to gather your thoughts. “So...Vampires exist, and you’re all Vampires, and Jungkook’s a Vampire, and Yoongi is a Vampire...but you don’t want to hurt me? I mean – like, don’t Vampires kill humans to suck their blood? Isn’t that how they live? I’ve walked with Jungkook many times in the sun and I’ve seen his reflection many times – and we even ate garlic bread together before, and –“

Serrena cut you off with a hearty giggle – followed by much the same from around the room as Jungkook stood his distance, listening to your heartbeat return to normal while he shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“My darling – and this is meant as no offence towards humankind...but, the images portrayed by humans of Vampires are mostly false these days. We can freely bask in the sun, we can see our reflections just like you; and garlic, silver, holy water and the likes do not offend us in anyway” she paused, “However, you are right in the notion that, yes – Vampires...we do require blood to sustain us and keep us alive; but not in the way you might have originally assumed so.”

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

“Why don’t you explain this to your love, my son?” Serrena turned her head towards Jungkook – beckoning him over to the chair beside you with her hand. You looked to him, seeing him almost hesitate for a moment, before he slowly walked over beside you and sat next to you. Jungkook wanted nothing more than to take your hand in his and hold you close to him...but he was ultimately left unsure of how you felt about him in that moment. Alas, you welcomed his presence just like any other instance; but you would have been lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t feel a little ambivalent about him in the wake of finding out the truth at last. To say that you didn’t feel slightly betrayed would have been untruthful; but when you thought about it logically, you understood why he had kept it hidden from you. “I guess, we’re even now” you thought, knowing that you had revealed your deepest, darkest secret to him; and he had just returned the favour to you.

“Well...the first thing you have to know, is that there are two kinds of Vampires when it comes to how we keep ourselves alive. The first is probably the one that’s most like how humans perceive Vampires in lore and horror tales; the ones who kill humans or animals to sustain themselves. We refer to such filth as ‘rogue Vampires’” Jungkook’s voice dropped at the mention of rogues as he saw your curiosity pique.

“The second type would be us – Vampires who do not live off of sentient beings. But...we drink synthetically manufactured blood. There are companies all over the world to accommodate such beings like us...as being a rogue isn’t something we value or have any pride in.”

“Companies around the world? So, it’s a pretty big industry?” you asked – your inner businesswoman coming to light that made Jungkook produce a gentle smile upon his lips.

“(Y/N)...you’ve been working for this company for the past eight months...you are the personal assistant of the one who orchestrates the entire business” Jungkook’s father spoke up from the other side of the table as you found yourself almost speechless.

“...you mean? The Jeon Corporation is all...for Vampires?” you asked with wide eyes as you stared back into Jeonju’s; seeing him nod with a knowing glint on his face.

“The company also works on medical research and helps with charities and cures for rare blood diseases; alongside importing and exporting medical equipment. But – the main priority is to feed the majority of Vampires in this world who wish to not harm humans; those who wish to live alongside humans peacefully, as their fellow inhabitants of this earth” Jungkook’s warming tenderness returned to his eyes as he caught your gaze – watching you nod and take in his words.

“Okay...that certainly wasn’t included in the job description...” you raised your eyebrows as you tried to process everything correctly. You knew about the medical equipment and the research that went on as you directly dealt with that in your line of work as Jungkook’s personal assistant – setting up his meetings and greeting his different clientele.

“Of course, we don’t just deal with Vampires. We have a large demographic of human clients and investors that we work alongside with as well; most of which you would be familiar with” Jungkook added to reassure you; but your mind wandered elsewhere.

“I’m sorry if this is like, a weird thing to ask but...since you’re all Vampires...do you guys have fangs?” you asked in the most serious tone with a ridiculously momentous look on your face. Jungkook and the rest of his family all chuckled at your pure innocence, making you almost smile in turn.

“Yes my dear – we do! But, I’m afraid that real Vampire fangs aren’t as beautiful and edgy as they are in the many cult films that humans create and produce.” Serrena informed you post-giggling in her seat as everyone continued to smile at you endearingly.

“...could I see them?” you asked very hesitantly, looking between Jungkook and Serrena – hoping that they would say yes. Jungkook slowly blinked at you, feeling himself being filled with ease as he knew that your questions and desire to see the parts of him that he had hid away for so many years meant one thing and one thing only; acceptance.

“Jungkook – why don’t you show (Y/N)? But perhaps...let’s not go the full nine yards. It always proves to be a little daunting on the first viewing.” Serrena tapped Jungkook on the shoulder as she was referring to the fact that when a Vampire fully let their fangs show on display; that it wasn’t a pretty sight. She knew that you probably assumed that his upper canines would just elongate – when in fact, if a Vampire were to fully protrude their fangs with intent to poison or kill; the top canines and the lower lateral incisors would grow exponentially large, causing the entire jaw to dislocate to allow for a bigger mouth.

Jungkook turned slowly to you – throwing caution to the wind by putting his hands out in the hopes of you placing yours in his. “I’ll show you – but please, don’t be afraid of me” his soft voice travelled to your ears as his deep mahogany eyes caught you in a trance; like they always did. You nodded your head as you gently took his grasp and watched with eager eyes to witness what you had always thought of as nothing more than special effects in a movie.

“I’m not afraid of you” you whispered, both of you smiling rather gingerly at each other.

“Alright then” he kept his stare fixed on you as he opened his mouth slightly to begin letting his canines grow a fraction – enough for you to see a considerable change in the structure of his mouth and teeth. You sat in wonder, absolutely fascinated and amazed at the sight before you – leaning back to get a better view of him as a whole; before thinking to yourself how ethereal and magnificent he looked.

“Can I touch them?” you raised an eyebrow  - seeing him grin one of the biggest smiles you had ever saw him form; his fangs peeking out from behind his lips that made your heartbeat increase ever so slightly. “Why does he look so damn sexy with his fangs?” you scolded yourself in that moment for letting your train of thought jump off the tracks – feeling yourself blushing at the thought; to which, Jungkook immediately picked up on.

“Go ahead; I won’t stop you” he smirked, protruding them just a little bit more as he embedded the same thoughts as you in secret. Sheepishly, you raised your hand to his mouth – extending the pad of your index finger to gently touch his left canine, feeling that it was very obviously real as you felt his saliva coat your finger. Becoming braver, you pressed a little harder – tapping it and moving your finger underneath to feel its sharpness.

“It’s pretty sharp...” you let out a sigh of amazement as you retracted your hand – seeing him smile as he in turn, retracted his fangs and let his mouth return to its normal physical build-up. “To be honest, I’m actually really impressed” you admitted, not caring if you were to sound like his number one fan-girl with your statement in light of knowing that he wasn’t even showing you them in full.

“Mine are nothing compared to mother’s” Jungkook gave you an airy chuckle of sweetness as he gently laced his fingers with yours. “With her being the oldest Vampire, hers are much larger and more impressive than mine”

“Ahem, oldest?!” Serrena cackled in playful offence. “Come now, my dear son. You know that word offends me. Eldest is much more accurate” she retorted, making everyone laugh – including you.

“My beautiful aunt – you don’t look a day over thirty~” Taehyung gave a coy, impish smile as the laughter continued throughout the room.

You bit your lip nervously through your smile, your need to know her actual age consuming you. “Serrena...would it be rude of me to ask how old you are? I mean – like Taehyung said...you really don’t look a day over thirty...I’m kind of bitter actually” you said truthfully, seeing her grin widely at your words. “It’s just that...you have three children who are all over the age of thirty, yet you look so youthful? Is that another trait of...Vampire-ism?”  you used your newly coined term to describe her that had everyone feeling more at ease now that you were more than accepting of them.

“Not at all darling – it’s not rude in the slightest. We view immortality as both a blessing and a curse - but our ability to control our metabolisms and polymorph to a degree is entirely the former~” her beautiful smile graced you as she leaned forwards. “How about, we all reveal our ages starting from Jimin and going around the table?” Something that you had noticed ever since you met Serrena, was that she and the rest of her family all seemed to have a wonderful rapport with each other, making you feel a certain kind of warmness inside you that you had never previously felt from seeing such a close-knit, family unit.

“Alright then, so the youngest, newest Vampire is our little Jimin over here – Jimin?” Serrena nodded her head at him to speak.

“I’m twenty-eight” he smiled bashfully at her words as he looked at you.

“And I – my little butterfly, am seven-hundred and seven years young!” Taehyung exclaimed; to which your jaw hit the floor. Chaewon spoke up, informing you that she and her husband were both six-hundred and forty-two years old – with Hyeja telling you she was nine-hundred and eighty-nine, with her husband being just ten years her senior. And, as if you weren’t already in a state of shock from absolutely everything, Jeonju had seemingly put the final nail in the coffin with telling you he was a majestic seven-thousand, eight-hundred and ninety-seven years old.

“And I just so happen to be the eldest here” Serrena gave Jungkook a coy look from the corner of her eye in reference to his previous misuse of the word old to which he bashfully smiled and looked at his shoes. “My dear, I am eight-thousand, five-hundred and twenty-three years old and still feeling just as young as the day and hour I was born” she smiled directly at you as you felt your mouth near dangle around your ankles.

“Your expression is totally priceless (Y/N)! Never before have I had the pleasure of telling a human my true age! It’s certainly more humorous than I would have expected!” Hyeja cackled at your shocked face as everyone else joined her in admiring your pure, blissful dumbfoundedness. In that moment, you collected your mouth from the ground as you turned to Jungkook – seeing him with a wry smile on his lips as he knew what your next question would be.

“So...I take it I’m not dating a man who’s thirty years old?” you asked with a smirk, watching him keep his eyes fixated on you, giving you an insolent shake of his head.

“Well, it appears you might have a thing for older men – seeing as this year, I’ll be turning four-hundred and one...” his voice was as impudent as ever while he watched you widen your eyes to their full capacity.

“Jesus fucking Christ...” you whispered – making everyone roar in laughter. “I guess you’re wrong though, Jungkook. It appears I don’t have just a thing for older men...but perhaps, instead...older Vampires.” You shamelessly rolled your eyes and returned his smile as everyone in the room came down off their hysterical highs.

After a few more moments of exchanged looks of contentment, you sat back – your mind still racing with theories and questions and everything else that you could possibly think of. One on hand, you were still attempting to get over the shock of finding out that your boyfriend – who you previously believed to be a human; was actually a Vampire. Not only that, his entire family were Vampires and they owned one of the biggest corporations in the world to mass produce blood to keep their inhumane tendencies at bay. When you thought about it logically, it was pure genius. On the other hand, however, you couldn’t ignore the fact that; due to all this information that had come to light – it just made you even more nervous about the real reason why your parents were taken from you...and why Yoongi even did it in the first place.

“There’s just...something that’s not sitting with me correctly” you spoke suddenly, catching everyone’s attention as they looked to you. “I believe you when you tell me that...you guys are essentially the good guys – for want of better words” you paused, seeing everyone smile and nod in turn. “But then...why is Yoongi different when his family are close with you all? You said you didn’t have any time for rogue Vampires, yes? I’m assuming he’s rogue because he killed my parents...but I’m just really confused as to why he has suddenly appeared again in my life. Forgive me; but I can’t help but think that this is all too closely related to be a mere coincidence”

“Clever girl” Jeonju thought quietly to himself. Jungkook knew you were beyond no doubt an intelligent woman – as it was something that he always admired about you. He adored the fact that you weren’t like the typical ditzy office girls he had employed in the past. Rather, you possessed incredible amounts of attractive intellectuality; and you had a certain type of intuitive knowledge that couldn’t be learned, meaning you had always been an intelligent, well-informed human.

“Well, my child...to begin explaining that to you; it is necessary for me to start right at the beginning. When Vampires were first created, so that you can know more about who we are rather than what we are. And more importantly...who you are” Serrena addressed you directly.

“...who I am? What have I got to do with this?” you asked, confused beyond belief.

“Perhaps, meeting Jungkook as his personal assistant was mere coincidence, my darling. But...I’m afraid in the case of Yoongi, you are correct in your deduction of it not being just chance or coincidence. Your...ancestral line plays a rather large part in Vampiric history” Serrena caught the attention of everyone in the room – especially Jungkook and Taehyung as they burned with fierce curiosity; knowing that Serrena was referring to your touch.

“...and now I’m even more confused” you gave her a blank look of bewilderment as she smiled at you understandingly. Serrena looked to Taehyung and Jimin as she raised her coffee cup in the air.

“Now boys, I think refreshments are needed all round. Would you both be so kind?” she raised her left eyebrow as Taehyung and Jimin took to their feet and began collecting everyone’s cups to hastily brew up some more coffee.

“Tell me, (Y/N); do you enjoy stories?” Serrena turned back to face you – looking down at your hand that was still laced with her sons; watching him softly caress the side of your thumb with his.

“Um...I guess? Why?” you smiled with uncertainty – the sound of the coffee machine humming in the background as Jimin and Taehyung got to work on playing baristas.

Serrena sat forward in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she raised her elbow to rest it on the oak table. She gave you her usual gleaming smile – her eyes full of warmth and endearment as she prepared not only let you in on Vampiric history that no human had ever heard before; but she was about to drop the biggest bombshell that you would ever experience in your life – what you really were, and how you were not just a mere human like the approximate 7.5 billion that shared the earth with you.

“So, are you sitting comfortably?” she asked, to which you nodded quickly in turn; finding yourself almost excited to hear what she had to say, but also feeling extremely nervous as to what she meant by who you were.

“...then let us begin”

{to be continued...}

[endlessdreamerdragon]

Night of Shadows - Part 1

Author’s note: Story was originally written in 2011 only a few years after I started to really put my stuff out there on the internet and try new things. So the writing probably isn’t going to be all that polished.

Words written in << these >> indicate the use of telepathy

Story contains swearing and some references to adult themes. Read at your own discretion. Story takes place during a generations-long civil war.

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Sirens flashed silently as rapid pawsteps pounded the metal floor, followed by the sound of claws scraping as the creature they belonged to skidded to a halt in front of a door. A cold mechanical voice asked for  identification and a unknown string of words answered it. The access  panel lit up and the door beside it slid open with a quiet swish as the  creature stepped inside the room, letting out a relieved sigh as its  eyes fell on a makeshift pedestal on top of which was a pile of ragged,  and some of it was even blood-stained, clothing. It wasn't the clothing  though that the creature sought.. for nestled amongst those rags were a  group of 6 eggs; one gold, one white with silver lines on it, one blue, a  green and another white. Oddly enough there was even a black one as  well. Tenderly the creature that had entered the room lightly ran its  paw over each of the eggs, murmuring something in its native language.  <Oh my little ones.. if only you had come earlier. Then perhaps you  would not be caught up in a war not your own. Such foolish fighting  helps no one and all the wrong ones suffer because of it..> "Speaking to the unborn again are we, A'rial?" A'rials' head shot up in alarm but her expression relaxed and a warm smile crossed her face at  the sight of her long-time friend "L'ameira, good to see you again sister."   "Likewise. I thought I would find you here with them.. and before you  start, yes I understand it's not fair on them but the point is we are  in a war. It's crazy keeping them here in a command room of all  places!" "I know. I just know they're going to attack the nursery next  and I can't just let all hope disappear because each side can’t just...” A’rial sighed, unable to go on. She knew the risks and knew there would be no peaceful end to the constant fighting not only among the Draimians and their brother Hamurians but there were reports of in-fighting even amongst each side. All ships had been commandeered as either fighters or supply/infirmary ships if they had no weapons on board. It was a general rule that hospital ships were not to be fired upon but as in most cases they were just as fair game as the fighters for aspiring young soldiers looking to climb the ranks and earn their  leader's respect. She let out a low snarl and her paws bunched into fists "Why can they not SEE what this is doing to BOTH sides?! They're killing us off and we kill them... for what?!? Just because of rumours of thefts, murders, assault, and other such things?!  We -" "Enough, A’rial. You're working yourself up again which is bad enough. Not to mention you're close to precious eggs. You nearly ripped someone’s throat out last time remember?" A’rial seemed to deflate and let out a heavy sigh as her gaze once again fell on the vulnerableones before her "....."   Lami’era sighed and allowed a faint smile to her muzzle as she walked over to her friend "I know you care not only for our kind but theirs as well. What I don't understand is why you don't simply get them out of here while you still can." "....." "Ah right... 'You can’t because there aren't any left....’ So why don't' you take one if you're that desperate to preserve some part of our respective kinds? That and you'd have to get some of theirs as well, if they do not have the same plan as you do" A’rial sighed again and growled. She knew Lami’era didn't mean to sound harsh but she couldn't help it. She knew she was right but she couldn’t just leave these ones to die. That was the sad thing about wars. People became cold and uncaring, seeing the death around them but not feeling it. Not caring if the ships they blew up carried soldiers or civilians with pregnant mothers aboard. At least what this war had done to them. "Lami...” she stopped as she turned to look at the other dragon only just now noticing the woven silk carrier around her neck.  Lami’era smiled and with a soft click the latch on the carrier unclipped itself and the bag dropped onto the ground, a small blue and black creature squeaking in protest as it was awoken. A’rial gasped and shook her head as Lami’era nuzzled her son "Solaris... You brought him here? Why?" Lami’era chuckled "Always straight to the point...  well I want you to take Sol with you when you go." "What about-"   Lami’era sighed and shook her head, laughing bitterly” The ancestors couldn't possibly simply let me live my life with what little I have left, they took my little Al'saron as well" "Oh scales,  Lam.." Lami’era looked up and shook her head again "The time for grief will come later provided we survive this little spat our races are having. I just want to make sure my son lives if all else fails." A’rial nodded and licked her friend's fin comfortingly before nosing the sleepy hatchling closer to her. "I must go again before they notice me... good luck A’rial" "You as well, Lami" Lami’era smiled and dipped her head, turning to leave before stopping dead, both of them freezing as they  looked towards the door as it opened. "Why hello ladies..." "No...” A low chuckle filled the air as smoke-like creatures in the form of dragonish canines stepped into the room, cold smirks on their faces as they approached. Lami’era growled threateningly as she watched the creatures get closer to her. Referred to by all as 'drugs' and a bizarre mix of dragon and canine, they were the Hamurian 'foot soldiers' if you could call them that. They were what was sent in if you wanted someone dead and didn't care how much of a mess it made. Pack creatures by nature they were also dangerously cunning, having the ability to think logically and sometimes come up with unusual ways of getting the job done if difficulties arose. They weren't really large creatures in terms of size (only coming up to a little above an adult’s foreleg) but they were fast and if one jumped you it was enough to knock the wind out of you in most cases. One other thing they were good at was keeping people under control. Lami’era found herself slowly being driven into a corner while a tall male Draimian entered the room, followed by a group of about four Hamurian warriors.   "Ma'lik?!  What are you doing in here? And they can haul their sorry hides out of here as well!" "Well that's no way to speak to a Squadron leader now is it? Especially not a high-ranking one such as myself." Lami’era spat viciously and A’rial hissed, both dragoness' barely keeping their fury in check were it not the fact they both knew he could kill them himself with no trouble at all. Although they could both fight quite well, they had no illusions that they stood a chance against him. "You're not welcome in here, Ma’lik." He just chuckled and motioned with a claw the four Hamurians swiftly moving to restrain A’rial forcing her on onto her hind legs and then kicking her tail so that it lay between her legs and  making sure she couldn't get her back paws underneath her, placing her firmly under their control as Ma’lik ran his paw over the eggs. One thing about him is that to anyone who could read aura's you could practically feel the sickening twisted mind behind that charming smile that made one's scales crawl. Even if you couldn't read auras folks still tended to be uncomfortable around him despite his high status. "You mean I can't simply come in here to see how the future generation is doing? Imagine my surprise though when I not only find you, A’rial, but also the enemy" he said with a cold triumphant smirk aimed at Lami’era, the emphasis clear in his voice on exactly who the 'enemy' was. "Here in the very bowels of the Draimian camp. Makes one wonder where your loyalties lie... Don’t' you agree, boys?" The Hamurians chuckled at this and gave a painful squeeze to her arms. For once though she was glad she had no wings otherwise she knew they would have torn them off just to spite her. A’rial snarled and her glare had anyone else seen her then would have had them ducking for cover, her voice equally as venomous and icy as her glare.” You touch those eggs again and I will coat these walls in your blood even if it kills me" "Have no fear my dear I won't kill you just yet. Oh no, I want you to see this." Chuckling again he with drew a vial from his armour seeming to admire it in the light although there was no need.  A’rial froze, as did Lami’era once they saw what the vial was. They knew exactly what the devil-spawn contained within it was and what it did to those affected. "You vile disgusting skraka!!!!!!" A’rial continued to struggle a horrified look on her face and ignoring the blood that was trickling from the marks where her captor's claws were digging in. "Perhaps... perhaps I am that foul." He said with a sadistic smirk as his paw came down on the plain white egg, blood and yolk spilling onto the floor while A’rial gave a choked sob. Ma’lik chuckled and wiped off the fluids from his paw, grinning when he saw the look on the muzzles of the females "oops? Must be careful around these ones yes?" He chuckled again as he saw A’rial double her efforts to free herself, especially when he picked up the other white egg with the silver markings on it, holding it up with his stained claws. Her egg. "Mmm now this is a very pretty egg indeed. Wouldn't want to...” he let go of the egg, catching it again before it fell too far "...Lose it now, would we my dear?” He paused, seeing the female almost livid with rage as she stared at the egg in his claws and then a slow smirk crossed his face “Oh I see this one is special to you. This is your daughter no? One of the few pure bloodlines left yes?" He chuckled and carefully put it back with the others as he pulled off the top of the vial. "No doubt if she's anything like you she'll be a formidable fighter as can be expected of a member of the Fireheart clan." smirking he began  to tip the contents of the vial onto the egg, some of it splashing on a few of the neighbouring ones. "Too bad she'll be so dangerous that both sides will want her head on a silver platter... After all no one likes a demon-dragon... Least of all a black Chaos dragon"   He nodded at the Hamurians holding her and they released A’rial. Too late she arrived, watching as the foul liquid seeped into the shell and then into the fragile embryo inside. "By the gods... YOU BASTARD!!!" !!!" Snarling she raked her claws across his muzzle as tears gathered and spilled down the side of her face, broken at what had just happened to one of her few remaining children, least of all a rare white dragon. He let out a low chuckle even as he wiped the blood from his muzzle, tracing a claw along the ridges on her curved horns. The instant he did that she snapped, taking his whole hand in her jaws and biting down until she heard the bones snapping like twigs from the pressure. He roared in agony, his smirk disappearing as his free paw left bloody marks across the bone white area on her face which had given her the name 'the Masked Nurse' or 'Bone Mother'. "Bastard I may be, but at least my children aren't hated monsters. She'll be lucky if she lives to reach childhood." Flicking his unmangled paw, Ma’lik snarled and the Hamurians moved back grabbing Lami’era and dragging her along with them to the door as the drogs snapped at her feet and tail. She sighed, giving a pleading look to A’rial as she passed not for her own rescue but a silent plea to look after her son... The dragoness sighed, wordlessly promising in that frozen moment in time that she would protect him with her life. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she berated herself mentally as a squeak was heard right near where Malik's foot was. Smirking, the male Draimian warrior looked down to see the blue hatchling cowering in fright and lifted up his foot ready to bring it down on the infant before once again claws raked his face just missing his eye as he was forcefully shoved aside. Too focused on the pain he failed to notice as A’rial scooped up the hatchling that started squealing in protest as it noticed its mother being dragged away. A’rial held it close, protecting it as she stood between the recovering Ma’lik and the nest of eggs. "Leave now and I pray the ancestors repay you for what you have done. Rest in peace Squadron Leader Ma’lik” she spat vehemently as she glared at him, blinking as some of her blood trickled into her eye. He chuckled and sneered as he left "Oh I haven't' done anything yet. After all your friend is now my prisoner... such fun I'll have with her too." She roared as the doors closed torn by the desire to run after him and save her best friend or stayed stay with the young ones. She sighed quietly; looking down at the hatchling in her arms that had gone quiet after his mother was taken away before his eyes the young boy looking up with a woeful look in his eyes at his new protector. Unfortunately for him, he was at an age where he could understand most things but had not yet learned how to speak properly either vocally or telepathically. All he knew is that the bad dragon had tried to kill him and had taken his mother away somewhere he might never see her again. "We'll get her back don't you worry." Secretly though, the Nurse Mother she prayed she was right.