#weatherby writes

[ginnyweatherby]

I was thinking about how after Casita fell, we got to see Julieta's fear when Mirabel disappeared, and her relief when she comes back, including their sweet hug... That being said, she's Agustín's kid too, and I wanted to see his reaction to his baby's reappearance. This is that scene.

Dedicated to @magicalmadrigals who keeps us so well fed with fluff, and I thought deserved some in return.

Word Count: 1400 and some change.

*****

Agustín couldn't remember the last time he had one of his daughters in his bed.  The older they became, the less they sought the comfort of their parents' room.

Isabela was always too fussy about her pillows, and Luisa needed her special double-length bed to even begin to be comfortable, so he supposed it was just a matter of growing up.

But now that the family was crammed into his small family home, Mirabel being in bed beside him was less about a little kid wanting their parents, and more out of necessity, since there wasn't another room.

Still… after the day they'd had, Agustín was more than thrilled to have her close by and in sight.

He glanced to his right, peering over the rims of his glasses to see Mirabel snuggled into the pillows, nose buried deeply in a book she'd found on his old shelf.

It was surreal, being in his childhood bedroom again.  It had been nearly twenty five years since he'd left it, and he never thought he'd return - much less with his entire family in tow.

Unfortunately, now that Casita was more a pile of rubble, rather than a house, they would have to make do.  For awhile, at least.

"I read that book a lot when I was your age,"  Agustín said offhandedly, picking at a small hole in the quilt.

"Yeah?"  Mirabel licked her finger and turned the page, clearly more interested in the words in front of her than holding a conversation.

Still, Agustín wanted to hear her voice.

"Mhm.  I'm almost surprised it's still in one piece, I read it so many times."

Mirabel didn't respond, her eyes flitting across the page in rapid fashion, she was devouring the novel in record time.

Agustín stared ahead, looking around the room.  Not much had changed since he was her age… the same books on the shelves, the same drawings tacked to the walls.  Had the wallpaper always been that ugly?

He didn't know where Julieta had wandered off to, but he was getting tired and hoped she'd be back soon so they could blow the candles out and go to sleep.

The day had been unbelievably long, spending every waking moment (and there were many of them - they'd barely slept a wink the night before) hunting high and low for Mirabel.

Now that she was found, safe and sound beside him, he knew he'd sleep like the dead and wouldn't wake even if a train crashed through the window.

He twiddled his thumbs, trying to find something to keep his mind occupied until his wife returned, and Mirabel finally tore her eyes away from the novel, lowering it into her lap.

"Are you alright, Papi?"

"Wonderful,"  he said.  "Why do you ask?"

"You're acting funny,"  Mirabel said.  "Very… fidgety."

"I'm always acting funny,"  he said, with a wink.  "Just ask your mother."

Mirabel chewed on the inside of her cheek, a horrible habit she'd had since she was a toddler.  She didn't look convinced.

"Why, are you okay?"

Mirabel closed the book and laid it on the nightstand opposite of where he sat.  "I'm sorry, Pa."

Well that wasn't what he'd expected to hear.

"Sorry?"

Before he knew what was happening, Mirabel threw herself into his arms, wrapping her own tightly around his neck.  "I'm so, so sorry."

"Mirabel, you didn't do anything wrong.  Nothing that happened was your fau-"

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Agustín let out a breathy laugh. "Well, that you did do."  He squeezed her, while she clamored into his lap.  "Scared me a lot, actually."

"I know,"  Mirabel nuzzled her face further into his shoulder.  "I didn't mean to, I promise… I was just so upset."

"Shh, I know,"  Agustín ran a gentle hand up and down her back.  He could hear a tightness in her voice, and he hated when his children cried.  There had been far too many tears shed in the last few days.

The last few weeks, really.  Even before Antonio's birthday, tensions had been high.

"It's alright, amor.  Everything is okay now."

Mirabel moved her head, although he wasn't sure if she was nodding, or using his shirt as a tissue.  He supposed it didn't matter.

They sat there for awhile, just clinging to each other, processing the emotions the last couple of days had brought forward.

He hadn't mentioned it to anyone - not even Julieta - but for a brief time, when they couldn't find Mirabel, he wondered if he'd ever get to hug her like this again.

It was a horrible thought, but one that made him press a hand to the back of her head as he snuggled her closer against his chest.

"You know,"  Agustín began slowly, continuing to rub her back as he spoke.  "Even though you scared the absolute hell out of me-"

He smiled when he heard Mirabel giggle at that.  He didn't curse often in front of the kids, but he knew it always amused them when he did.  "Even though you scared me, I'm still very, very proud of you."

Mirabel pulled back and looked at him through watery eyes, her glasses slightly foggy.  "Really?"

"Extremely."  He removed the glasses from her face and wiped them with his shirt, before placing them gently back on her nose.  "You stood up for yourself.  It was overdue, honestly."

Mirabel wiped her eye with a knuckle, leaning back on her knees.  "I don't like fighting with Abuela but…"

Agustín sighed.  "It was a long time coming.  I lost my temper with her too."

Mirabel stared at him.  "You're the most patient person I know!"

"Even the most patient people have their limits,"  Agustín pressed a kiss to her forehead, a sad smile on his face.  "I think we've all reached our limits this week."

Mirabel nodded.

"That being said, while I am extremely, extremely proud of you,"  Agustín leaned back against the pillows, Mirabel curling into his side like she had when she was much smaller.  "Please never scare me like that again.  My hair is gray enough, thank you very much."  He accentuated his point by running a hand through it, making it stick out on one side.

Mirabel snorted.  "Got it."

They quieted again, and for a time all that was heard was the sound of Mirabel's sisters snoring through the wall.

"It will all work out, I promise,"  Agustín said, a firm hand on her shoulder.  "It'll take time, but everything will settle down eventually.  We'll rebuild the house, finally get you your own room-"

"Ooh, can I pick the color?"  Mirabel perked up at the thought, a brightness to her eyes that had been lacking lately.

Agustín chuckled.  "Any color of the rainbow, amor."  He placed a kiss on the top of her head.  "But I'm serious.  Soon enough, no one will even remember any of this."

Mirabel laughed.  "I have a hard time believing that… but I will say, it'll be nice not to have to listen to Isa and Lu snore all night."

"I'll have you know, you snore too."  Agustín brushed his nose against his daughter's, eliciting a small giggle.

Just then, the door pushed open to reveal Julieta, with a tray and three steaming mugs on it.

"What's so funny?"  She asked, sidling up to the bed and sitting on the edge.

"Papi says I snore,"  Mirabel said.

"He's right,"  Julieta agreed.  "But you get it from him."

Agustín threw his hand over his heart, aghast.  "I would never."

"Why do you think I drink so much coffee in the morning?"  Julieta teased, handing each of them a mug of warm tea.  "It's impossible to sleep with you in the room.  Now with both of you in my bed, it's going to be doubly impossible."

Mirabel laughed again, blowing on the cup.  She settled comfortably between them, nestled deeply in the pillows against the headboard.

They stayed up just long enough to finish their tea, chatting about what color Mirabel was going to paint her new bedroom.

(It seemed she was taking up his offer to paint it any color of the rainbow… and was choosing all of them.)

But it wasn't long before Agustín was blowing out the candle on his nightstand, looking over at his wife and daughter, both sound asleep beside him.

Yes, he thought as he pulled the blankets higher over their shoulders.  He might not have remembered the last time one of his children shared his bed, but he certainly wouldn't forget this one any time soon.

[boltlightning]

[johnbly]

[FIC] souls at sea

Summary: 

After his death, James Norrington finds himself on a boat on a strange and silent sea. He's not alone, and one fellow soul is a familiar one.

Word Count: 2,381

read on ao3

Excerpt:

First agony. 

Then nothing.

And then…at first, James thinks there’s still nothing. But that alone – the fact he can think – is something. He begins to notice. He’s sitting. Yet something beneath him is moving. A look down shows a small boat, illuminated by the single lantern at the bow. Instinctively, he reaches over the edge of the boat, fingertips seeking water. 

The moment he finds it, a chill grips his chest. He jerks back his arm, unnerved more than anything else. He knows the feel of the warm Caribbean and cool rain alike, but this water he floats on simply feels…wrong. Empty, somehow, as if what makes water water is absent, even though his fingers are slick.

Inspecting his hand draws his attention to something else: his jacket sleeve ends in a white cuff with golden embellishments. James glances at his chest and feels the top of his hat, both further confirming that he’s wearing his ceremonial commodore uniform.

He hasn’t worn it since that fateful day at Fort Charles. Turner, rash as ever, seeing fit to help Sparrow escape. Elizabeth, following her heart. And he, the commodore, following his – granting the pirate that damned head start so that Elizabeth might not look at him with disgust.

The very same disgust he can still remember from aboard the Empress.

The uniform he'd worn back in Port Royal, is wearing now, is much different than the one he’d died in. This hat is fancier, but he's without the epaulets. Those had been distinctions he'd always imagined earning through merit, not by betraying others and condemning God only knew how many lives in the process. Is that why he's in this uniform again? To remind him of the man he had been?

Nettled, James turns his attention outward. He’s not alone on this sea. Not a sound carries across the water, but there are other boats just like his. Each one has a lantern, though that’s where the similarities end. The passengers are old and young, man and woman – one even has three passengers, and he can’t help but wonder what fate they’d met.

His gaze freezes on the figure in one of the boats in front of him. He’s known several people with long wigs, but along with the hat and style of dress, one person comes to mind. One, in fact, that he’s been told is dead.

“Governor!”

The man in the boat turns. It is indeed Weatherby Swann. The confirmation of his death strikes James like another length of wood through the abdomen. Not that he’d suspected Elizabeth of lying – why would she about such a subject? And there’d been no mistaking her emotions – but there had been a small part of him that went further than simply not wanting to believe it: it couldn’t believe it. 

Yet there’s no denying the evidence in front of him.

[misscrazyfangirl321]

Hbd + sbd: this is about the kids.

"Jack, it's the weekend," she says as soon as she picks up the phone, bracing herself. He always does this, always tries to drag her onto a case on her days off, and sometimes she half has the idea that he misses her, but maybe that's just wishful thinking. In any case, today, she needs rest; she will not be swayed into-

"This is about the kids."

She sits upright, suddenly on alert. It's not one thing, but many: The controlled tension in his voice, the way it suddenly dawns on her that Penny hasn't answered her earlier text, and above all, the way Jack is willing to call them the kids, after so many protests over the past few months. ("They're not kids, El; they're our employees.")

"What is it?"

"Something's wrong. I went by Weatherby's house to drop off some case files-" She makes a mental note to scold him for that later. "And the door was wide open. Went in, and the place was trashed. Tucker's not home, either. Someone took 'em."

Fear coils in her chest, and she closes her eyes. They'll be alright, she tells herself, because she has to. She has to believe that. "We'll find them," she says firmly. "I'll be at the office in fifteen minutes."

She makes it there in ten.

[cathaedra]

( private )  tag drops.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ writing.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ images.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ about.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   will  turner.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   henry  turner.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   jack  sparrow.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   james  norrington.

ㅤ * ㅤ elizabeth  swann ㅤ … ㅤ rel.   weatherby  swann.

[tyxoxo]

Ylang Ylang

| summary: while being close to you and your family’s extinction, a promise needs to be broken to save the lives of your people

| pairing: fairyhunter!jeno x fairy!reader au w/fairy!xiaojun x fairy!reader (if you squint)

| genre: suspense, angst, smut, fantasy, multiple nct/wayv + aespa character inserts, jeno and hendery are brothers

| words: 11.6k

| warnings: murder, blood, torture, knife play, noncon smut + suggestive scenes, blackmail, exhibitionism, caging/imprisonment, degrading, unprotected sex

(this is purely fiction, warnings in bold mean potentially triggering content, everything is tagged accordingly)

a/n: @jenomov and i came up with this concept out of nowhere also, so massive thanks to them for the inspiration, ideas, summary, and endless brainstorming! they practically helped write this <3 also jeno’s look in the header is essentially how i envisioned him to look for this story but imagine him however you want 

playlist: 

livv? - ylang ylang

weatherby - fleeting frozen heart 

datfootdive - stars

alicks - 7 laps later

tame impala - one more hour

“C’mon Xiaojun, spit it out already!!” 

You teased at your loving best friend, shoving him playfully with a single finger as you watched him struggle to speak lucid sentences.

The two of you were in your favorite and most “private” hang out spot—in the trees on the outskirts of your shared village. Far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the community, but close enough for comfort. Though you tried your best not to drift into the terminology of “safety”, “danger”, or “warnings.” 

It was a sure way to initiate ill omens.

Both of your parents were aware of your shared infinity for exploring; venturing past the municipality limits. But as long as the two of you shrunk to “the size of a quail” outside of the village, they allowed you to bask in the wonders of blaring curiosity, to your heart’s content. Your species could never truly bring your guard down…

“Sorry…I just can’t form my words today.” He scratched the back of his head as he peered down at his lap, rustling the Crane's-bill flower crown perched atop his mauve hair in the process. 

“Since when do you ever really form your words?” 

This time you gave a subtle laugh to pair with your smile, hoping to ease his obvious discombobulation. 

“You’re right. I don’t.” 

His eyes met yours, his wings even twitching, which always signified when your kind was flustered.

He continued again, pulling at his own thumb as he drifted his eyes up to the newly blossomed tree leaves; an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact.

You could try to deny it for as long as you lived, but there was something within you that adored him more than he probably ever knew.

It was his tenderness, his soothing voice, his patience, whether it was those nights you stormed out of your house in search of him, as a form of solace from the constant nightmares of your genocide, or the days that you wanted to rant about your parent’s overprotectiveness (though they’ve eased up in recent years).

Anything you needed, he was there. And you always tried your best to do the same, despite having the feeling that he bottled up some of his troubles to keep from feeling like a burden himself.

“Well…I w-wanted to tell you, that I really appreciate you.” 

He gave up on his own finger trap, to tug at the bottom of his white flounce shirt, finally meeting your eyes again with another twitch of his translucent wings.  

“I appreciate you too Xiaojun, always.” 

You leaned forward, so light that you barely caused the branch underneath you to stir. He froze upon witnessing your close contact, only his brown irises lowering to watch as you took both of his hands into your own.

“Is everything okay?” 

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out in a whisper, but his stuttering had become more frequent, and this only made your thoughts whirl just as loudly as his.

If only you knew that he was on his way to confess his true feelings to you, if only he could get his mouth to work as fast as his brain, maybe then he could finally pull the weight off his shoulders.

But you made all of this difficult without even trying. His love for everything that was you, was infinite. 

Even your constant teasing.

And the glimmer in your eyes was no match for his composure, let alone the way you held his hands. 

You scanned his face in search of an answer, that definitely took too long for him to spill.

“Yeah don’t worry, everything's fine.” 

You tilted your head in confusion, wondering where this could possibly be going, knowing he was aware of your ever-so-apparent “what’s the deal” persona. 

He cleared his throat, and geared himself up for the revelation of a lifetime,

“I’ve been m-meaning to tell you that I really like you…that I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you.”

You felt your wings twitch, more noticeable than his own. And the warmth that flooded your entire body could’ve lit the entire forest in a swarming blaze. 

“W-would it be crazy if I asked you to be mine—”

His lips seemed to come at a rest in slow motion, eyelashes fluttering in stark contrast as he heard your breath hitch in your throat.

Not even the sun’s rays that flashed through the white pine tree could’ve taken you out of your shock. 

You used what seconds you had left, to replay his confession in your head,

“…I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you”

Xiaojun, your best friend since childhood, had always dreamed of this?

But the thoughts of responding were ripped away, as blood-curdling screams roared from the direction of your home. They weren’t light hearted nor playful by any means, and with the ability to hear great distances, the agony that bestowed upon your ears caused you both to wince in fear. 

Xiaojun turned his head to look through the leaves, skin turning pale upon hearing further destruction. 

Most of the branches obscured your vision, but it didn’t take much longer for the despair to continue. 

“They found us!” 

That voice, sounded like Karina.

And her frenzied words gave the answer—after two years of hiding, the hunters were back. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, the ability to breathe becoming a distant memory.  

You squeezed Xiaojun’s hand as you crawled through the thick pine, your best friend eventually grabbing your waist to stop you from venturing out too far.

“Stay back!” His hushed tone was never this turbulent, bringing all the more truth to the chaos brewing just a mile away. 

“We have to go help!”

“It’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you getting hurt!” 

Your adrenaline was too much for Xiaojun, as you managed to fight through his tight embrace or rather his hold on your longing to see your family and friends for what could be the last time. 

“Let me go! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

You attempted to gear your wings for flight as you broke through his hold, hands raking through the leaves to get a clear view through the sea of green.

As you hovered past the pine tree, a familiar being appeared to be flying this way, the telltale sign being the blush colored wings that matched the embroidered dress swaying through the win at high speeds.

It was Giselle. And upon getting a closer distance, you saw the blood spatter that painted her arms in fresh crimson. 

She was her natural size, like what your kind all chose to be while in the comfort of your home, and the only guess as to why she didn’t choose to shrink was the amount of energy it took to do so. She seemed to grip at her side as the blood continued to stain her silk dress, not once looking up at which direction to fly. Her Dahlia flower crown was nowhere to be found, something that she cherished more than anything in the world.

You had to help her, get her to safety within the trees, whatever you could to secure a better fate. But the constant screams kept you too terrified to react, and being out in the open like this was indeed risky. 

Before you could muster the strength to call her name, Xiaojun was behind you, the vibration of his wings filling your senses. He leaped at you once again, this time pulling you back towards the trees with labored breaths.

He couldn’t just do this to you…prevent you from saving a life, from saving not only your friend, but his friend too.

You managed a measly call of her name, knowing her advanced hearing would be enough. And successfully, she glanced up for the first time since her escape, to watch as you motioned for her to join together in the same tree.

Her face, lit up with hope, was the last sanguine expression to ever grace her face, as the all too familiar sound of a crossbow arrow being loosed from its quarrel sped towards her injured frame.

Your scream, one just as gut-wrenching as those that continued from your home, was muffled against Xiaojun’s palm as he pulled you back within the tree. You were forced away from any further intervention, forced away from burying your guilt.  

Giselle flung forward from the sheer impact of the arrow as it shot through her heart, her umber strands flying through the air in the same intensity; entire body falling face forward onto the red speckled bermuda grass.

You couldn’t look away, not while you witnessed her final moments—eyes drifting up to meet yours within her last breath, wings falling lifeless against her spine, and a faint smile from knowing you would be the last person she would ever see, instead of the hunters that were walking towards her. 

Your entire body shook against Xiaojun, trembling in fear that her killers would surely discover the two of you here.

“Fuck! Hendery I had her!” 

An unfamiliar voice, but one you would never forget, roared through the clearing that led to your dead friend. 

You never felt so much anger from a person before, someone that you could only imagine was seething at the teeth.

Xiaojun finally took his hands away from your mouth, allowing you to inhale as much as you could before they got too close. But he still kept his arms wrapped around you, fighting through his own sobs that hit against the back of your neck.

“No Jeno! I’m not letting you fuck this up anymore! Remember what Johnny said?”

Yet another unfamiliar voice, but you were able to put the faces with the names right as the two humans approached just meters away, barely appearing disheveled despite the chaos they just unleashed. Thankfully their lack of enhanced senses worked in your favor, as you and Xiaojun remained undetected during their inspection of the area.

The one holding the crossbow was Hendery. And the one to speak first with the serrated knife was Jeno. 

These had to have been the hunters your family warned about. For the two years since relocating to this new area, all of the last surviving elders made it their mission to describe these two, for if the day came that they scoured the land again, you would instantly know it was them. 

They were just as menacing as your parents described, especially the blonde, Jeno. 

Whether or not it was on purpose to instill fear within all of your kind, you were always taught to never underestimate him or his brother. 

The two of them could’ve passed as supernatural beings themselves—flawless skin, chiseled features, intimidating height, and the perfect build…you could’ve spent your time describing their otherworldly looks, but their tyranny overshadowed everything else in your mind.

Your breathing finally began to steady as you stared them down like hawks within the evergreen tree, watching with glossy eyes as they stood over Giselle.

Maybe it was the tactical black clothes they wore, or the shared onyx in their eyes. Either observation caused a shiver to run down your spine; they screamed carnage.

You and Xiaojun both jumped as Jeno sheathed the knife in his left hand into his thigh holster, the ear-grating sound bringing you back down to the harsh reality of your near-death experience.

“The others should be on their way any minute. Let’s go.” 

Hendery spoke again and pointed downward with his crossbow at Giselle’s lifeless body, signaling for Jeno to carry her now.

The blonde obeyed, but not without a  furrowed brow as he bent down to gather the fresh corpse.

You were sure his disgruntled expression was due to his brunette counterpart taking away his kill, and a part of you knew that his method of disposal would have been way more barbaric than Hendery’s. 

You felt sick to your stomach to admit that maybe Giselle didn’t suffer too much of an agonizing death, as an arrow to the heart was the quickest way to an end.

Jeno loves the thrill of a chase. Once he has his sights on you, his frenzy doesn’t stop… 

The warning that your own mother gave you stuck ever since she first told you. And it all made sense now: Giselle was part of the hunt.

The last you would ever see of her, was a delicate, lifeless body slumped over Jeno’s shoulders as the two brothers walked back the way they came. 

The two of you could’ve stayed hidden in the trees forever, passing the time by staring at the way the grass moved in the wind. Especially now that you had to face the aftermath of being found after such little time.

Xiaojun’s arms slowly unwrapped around your body, falling onto the branch in defeat.

You couldn’t help but fight back more tears as you looked back at him, eventually failing as you saw how red his own eyes were.

“What did they mean by “be here any minute?” 

You asked in a trembling tone, voice slightly breaking from the sobs that overtook your chords.

“I fear they’ll stay close by for a while, but maybe it’s a chance we’ll have to take to see what’s going on.”

His cool breath touched your lips as he spoke, and you could only give a nod. No amount of talking could take away the pain you felt. 

The two of you cautiously exited the trees, remaining in your shrunken size to stay undetected. 

You gave one last look at the grass below you, soaking in Giselle’s blood that splattered onto the now-soiled greenery. 

Xiaojun led the way, choosing to duck behind the trees along the clearing, as you did the same.

The area seemed too quiet now…

The wisp of arrows no longer filled the air, and the crashing of what sounded like housing structures were no longer drowned out by the screams of your family and friends.

Considering the two of you purposefully ventured out past the village limits, it seemed like hours before you reached the entrance to your once-forever home.

The destruction seemed picture-perfect to what your elders had experienced in the past.

Xiaojun reached behind to interlock your fingers with his as you both approached the gates. You could only let your wings carry you now, barely reacting to his physicality…the numbness had become too overbearing. 

No sign of life could be caught within your sights, only smoke and dwindling flames littered the landscape.  

Houses were barely standing, with sunken ceilings and crumbling timber.

Could everyone truly be dead? Even your parents?

You tried your best to peek over Xiaojun’s shoulder, trying as best as you both could to find your respective homes. And considering how small the two of you were now, the billows proved to be difficult terrain. You both covered your faces in defense of the embers, fending off the irritation to your eyes.

Xiaojun was the first to look towards what was left of your home, eventually dragging you along despite your best efforts to protect your eyes.

Upon stopping and hovering in front of your disheveled porch, it was obvious your parents were gone; though you didn’t want to think about the manner in which they were gone. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to rummage through the chunks of burnt siding, as every piece was scorching hot to the touch.

“Why even fucking bother?” 

Your anger began to overshadow your grief, and despite the fumes emanating off the burnt mahogany, you kicked at what remained of the entryway.  

Images of your parents flashed through your brain; undoubtedly giving it their all to fight back, not even caring that they would ultimately fail against them. 

They never thought about the aftermath of their bravery…going out in glory seemed like the best way to go.

Xiaojun could only choke back tears as he hovered beside you, knowing that no amount of condolences would render you healed. He wasn’t a ghost to this kind of pain either.

You were there for him when his parents found their end at the hands of the hunters years prior.

And he knew he had to do the same for you. 

“I’m sorry…” Xiaojun sniffled with a squeeze of your hand. You met his bloodshot eyes, blinking away yet another tear. 

Your focus soon shifted past your best friend, as your eyes drifted over to a familiar piece of pink flower nestled under a heap of singed plywood. 

Xiaojun noticed, and followed closely behind as you flew over to your discovery. 

Somehow saved from the flames, was Giselle’s flower crown. 

You steadied the speed at which your wings fluttered to keep the smoke at bay, and in one fell swoop of your hand, you held onto the only remnant of your dear friend. 

Maybe this is why your kind wore these, not only as a form of self expression, but for moments like this. So anyone gone, would never be forgotten.   

“We should go…” 

You were sure it pained him as much as it did you to not give a valid response to his shared grief, but staying here out in the open was suicide. You clutched onto the Dahlia flower crown as the two of you flew south, with no real destination in mind.  

Maybe a change of scenery or something less-desolate would clear your head. 

—

Jeno tried his hardest not to tear a muscle in his jaw as he clenched down with every exhale. 

He was left fuming ever since the end of their hunt. 

He knew why Hendery intervened, and the thought of someone trying to control his methods disgusted him.

It didn’t even matter if that certain someone was his own brother.

No one got in the way of his kill.

Although he wanted to body slam Hendery into the ground, all thoughts of getting his vengeance were cut short as Yuta and Sungchan were arriving to help load the bodies. The brothers were waiting just outside the village in a clearing, with high hopes that more fairies would cross paths with them in the process. 

Jeno passed the time by tossing his knife up and down in the air, purposefully avoiding conversation with his brother to bring more tension into the air. It worked somehow, with Hendery only kicking a few pebbles along the dirt instead of discussing how uneventful their slaughter was. 

Yuta and Sungchan eventually drove up in the shared sport utility vehicle courtesy of Johnny, that had definitely seen better days: waves of mud caked along the fender from transporting bodies to buyers all over the county, along with a few specks of dried blood on the front tire rims from a raccoon Hendery hit the other day.

The fellow hunters skidded along the rough terrain with the help of four wheel drive, successfully parking in front of the pile where only four fairies lay stacked on top of each other.

The sun was beginning to set along the distant horizon, seeming faster as the entire land lay nestled on a hill. That still didn’t stop the golden hour from illuminating the-now blackened blood painted along their lifeless bodies, even decorating a few of their ruined flower crowns like black ink.

Yuta was the first to exit the driver's seat, putting out his cigarette in the portable ashtray just beneath the car stereo. Sungchan followed suit, but not without towering over his comrade as they came to a stop to view the brother’s labor. 

“I feel like there should be way more than this…” 

Yuta’s crimson locks swayed in the breeze as he broke the silence, eyes darting from the bodies, then to the blonde, then to the brunette. 

He was sure such a statement would tick Jeno off, who’s excess pride always managed to bring home the most kills. 

“There’s definitely more out there. I saw a handful scatter south.” Hendery tilted his head in the direction as he kicked the final pebble over towards the pile of bodies.  

“Yeah well if you didn’t get in the way half the time, I would’ve gotten them.” 

Jeno spat as he sheathed the bowie knife back into his thigh holster. His dissatisfied expression only grew as Hendery scoffed in response. 

“What, you have nothing to say?” Jeno finally looked over to him, who’s tongue-in-cheek appearance was almost the final straw to his mania. 

“Can we just load these up already?” 

Sungchan, the timid pacifist, was the only one to stick to the task at hand, bending down to gather one of the bloodied corpses.

Yuta walked over to open the trunk as he texted Johnny with an update.

They each gathered one with ease, and despite being in their full size at death, all four managed to fit with a few pronounced shoves.

“Seems you went easy on them this time Jen…” Yuta took one final glance at the trunk, making sure Jeno heard his side comment before closing it. Based on the way Jeno slammed the rear passenger door, he succeeded. 

Yuta couldn’t help but light yet another cigarette as he put the car in reverse, even offering one to Jeno and Hendery who both declined with a shake of their head. 

It would take at least forty minutes before they reached headquarters, and anything to diffuse the obvious tension was worth a try.

— 

You subconsciously thanked whatever God that your kind didn’t need food and water as often as the humans who co-inhabited this earth.

If you did, the hunger and dehydration would’ve befallen you a long time ago. 

Neither you nor Xiaojun had eaten anything since the attack. 

It was now dark, and based on the abundance of nocturnal animals scouring about, it had to be late.

And unfortunately, the smell of petrichor began to fill your noses. 

Rain was definitely not your best friend while in this size or without proper shelter.

“Let’s stop here before it starts pouring.” Xiaojun guided you over to yet another tree, choosing to fly high up along the weeping willow for extra protection. 

He had become so steadfast in a small amount of time, and you were sure it was because of his familiarity with this type of tragedy. 

At least he was holding himself together better than you were. 

Each time you glanced down at Giselle’s crown, you couldn’t help but tear up. And the thought of potentially finding more along your journey scared you.  

Just as you nestled yourselves within the leaves, the rain began to pour and soon came the thunder.

Regardless of mother nature’s wrath, the comforting sound of raindrops hitting every leaf soothed away your stressors, as it did for Xiaojun. And not soon after, you found yourself laying back into his body for added warmth. 

He welcomed your embrace, and let his head rest on top of yours as the two of you tried to drift off to sleep.

Giselle’s crown never let you, perched just above as some sort of guardian that you hoped would watch over you for a lifetime.

“I love you.” 

Xiaojun’s whisper stirred you from your near distant slumber, and as you rose your head up, you found your lips just millimeters away from his own. 

“I love you too…”

—

2 years ago

—

“Sorry to cut the training short but I need everyone in my office now.” 

Johnny’s stone cold appearance into the gymnasium-sized training room caused everyone to freeze in place. Even YangYang, the newest recruit, had a hint of worry in his eye from what his boss could possibly want at this time of day.

The new offensive tactic he was learning from Hendery felt too liberating to be interrupted.

Nonetheless, all five hunters dropped their practice weapons, and began following through the halls of their headquarters. Jeno walked close behind, exuding annoyance with every step, followed by Hendery, Yuta, Sungchan, and YangYang, who all seemed less vexed. 

“Fresh meat” as Yuta liked to call the newest recruit, found the Brutalist architecture of the entire headquarters difficult to get used to. Nothing felt welcoming, but what could he expect from a group of ruthless hunters who’s only form of entertainment were killing or training? 

YangYang hoped that maybe he was jumping to conclusions, and that maybe they actually engaged in more leisure activities.

Eventually they made it to Johnny’s office. YangYang mentally recalled the first time he ever saw it, back when he was interviewed.  

Not much self-expression, or color for that matter; only strange and usual murals of taxidermied animals, and a few plaques of outstanding achievements in “Guerilla Warfare.”

The newest hunter felt awkward in the sea of black, not knowing if he seemed “lazy” for wanting to sit in one of the two chairs positioned in front of the carbon grey desk. Though, his pondering was short lived as Hendery and Yuta swiftly shoved between him to claim the only two seats.

Everyone except Jeno stayed in direct view of their boss, instead opting to lean against the wall with a few kicks to the fine carpet below. YangYang could already tell from his fifth day here that his blonde-haired comrade was the hothead of the group, intimidatingly so. 

“I called this meeting to discuss our sales…they’re unacceptable.” 

If only YangYang had known that this wasn’t the usual topic of a meeting, nor was it a common issue, though he did notice that everyone had their undivided attention, especially considering Johnny’s succinct tone. 

Yet there was a hint of relief in the hunter’s exhale, as there was no way he attributed to whatever poor sales his boss was referring to, when he’s only been here for less than a week.  

“I wanted to wait and see if maybe there was a mistake in my counts before pulling you all out of training, but it’s quite obvious that we’re down 20%.” 

Based on the way Sungchan and Hendery dropped their heads, the news was transparently bad. And despite the amount of bodies in the room, the atmosphere grew cold in the span of a heartbeat. 

“I don’t understand, we’ve killed thousands. How is that bringing us down?” 

Yuta was the first to speak after what seemed like minutes; eventually sparing the room of awkward silence. He leaned forward in his seat with intrigue, ultimately showing concern that was shared across everyone’s faces. 

“Precisely. It’s not the numbers, it’s the method.”

Johnny leaned far back in his chair with a cross of his hands over his abdomen—typical posture for someone trying to keep their composure.  

Was there confusion? Definitely. So much so that Hendery finally raised his head with a dumbfounded expression which might’ve garnered a slap from his displeased boss, though the thickness of his chestnut bangs spared him of the reprimand. 

“With each receipt that I get, there’s been a pattern...some sort of complaint.” 

Johnny paused to grab the binder in the corner of his desk that housed all of the “receipts”, eventually flipping it open to show the large stack that could barely stay organized due to the lightweight paper.

“Specimen AG — parts not salvageable due to maiming of thoracic cage and surrounding viscera…

Specimen BH — parts not salvageable due to debasement of intestines, including prolapse…”

The list seemed to go on and on—fifty pages worth to be exact, and it wasn’t until Johnny read the sixth one that the group of hunters finally caught on to the stress brewing within his chords.

“There’s a reason we don’t use bombs or any explosives, but based on the condition of these bodies, doesn’t fucking matter if we do!”

Johnny slammed the binder shut; seeming to resort back to his previous posture with equanimity. 

His voice barely above a shout, surely to get louder if no one spoke up soon.  

“But there’s one thing I won’t do, and that’s babysit. I have way too many important things to take care of while you guys are out there. So you all need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I might have a clue…” 

YangYang’s peripherals shifted to Hendery, who was the second to speak with a brief raise of his fore and middle finger. 

“I don’t think it helps that there’s someone in this room that likes to go overboard with their methods.”

YangYang was the only one to scan the room for the person in question, and eventually his suspicion bloomed upon setting his sights on Jeno.

He would never forget his first day hunting, nor would he forget the lingering smirk that painted Jeno’s face with every kill. 

Each fairy met their end in the most gruesome way possible, and somehow even his own brother had less sadistic methods to his madness. 

Limbs torn, torso’s gutted, throats ripped…

That was one way for Jeno to distinguish himself from the more quick and painless deaths of his counterparts. 

Easily…

“You piece of shit…” 

Jeno’s bark was just as hefty at his bite, and snapped YangYang out of his recollection. 

Thankfully his laconic response was towards Hendery. 

“I should’ve known.” 

Johnny produced a heavy sigh as he leaned forward to put his head in his hands. 

“Jeno you’re one of the best hunters i’ve ever known, you and your brother both. But you can’t do this. I’ve had countless buyers not only documenting but telling me that the parts are too mutilated…”

Johnny’s tone surprisingly stayed neutral, but the disappointment in his face didn’t falter.  

“Why criticize me for doing what we are trained to do?” 

Though Jeno remained still against the wall, it was evident his fists were clenched inside the pockets of his combat pants to resist the urge to punish his brother for “snitching.”

“They can’t possibly buy that junk Jeno!”

“Okay, next time I’ll just sit out and let everyone do the work then.”

Jeno’s solution to the problem was only a smart-ass response, one that tensed the room more than it already was. 

“Everyone seems to understand but you…”

—

Present

—

[0900]

Two hours of laying in bed with his eyes open when he could’ve been doing something more productive ate away at Jeno’s soul. 

Perhaps the best way to take his mind off the disappointment from yesterday’s hunt would be to train, even better if he could do it alone.

Considering it was still early, he was sure that could be arranged.

He couldn’t stand to hear the soft “tick” of the analog clock any longer, eventually rising up and navigating across the dimly lit bedroom; being especially mindful of YangYang’s crutches that lay in between their separate beds.  

Just a few weeks ago he sprained his ankle while training with Yuta, and never heard the end of it from the red-haired bully. The teasing was warranted, as his clumsiness made him miss out on the second hunt of his career. 

Before YangYang was recruited, Jeno was lucky enough to have a room by himself, but for the past two years he’s had to share. And despite his constant gripes with Johnny over that decision, there had been no changes in his room and board. 

Thankfully, YangYang wasn’t as much of a headache as he thought he would be. 

Just as Jeno reached for the doorknob, he was interrupted from YangYang’s awakening. 

“How was yesterday?” 

His groggy morning voice was a far-cry from his more upbeat tone that tended to blossom throughout the day. 

“You didn’t miss much.”

Jeno refrained from turning his head to address YangYang’s curiosity, and as a result, missed the frown that littered his face.

“Guess that makes me feel a bit better about being a klutz then.”

YangYang had grown accustomed to Jeno’s uninterested personality and expected nothing in return: no reassurance nor words of encouragement, but it still left him feeling cold as Jeno exited the bedroom with a harsh slam of the door. 

—

After freshening up in the bathroom, Jeno eventually walked through the maze of minimally designed hallways, with the constant reminder of how the entire building matched his current mood—arid, dull, and grey.

The gymnasium was just off in the distance and past Johnny’s office, which he suspected to be empty.

But to Jeno’s surprise, it was occupied by not only his boss, but an unfamiliar person. 

Their voices still seemed hushed to a low volume as Jeno decided to pause just past the partially open door. The brief glance Jeno gave in between wielded a weak observation of the boy, but just enough to know that there was no way he could survive here—he looked barely old enough to even drive. 

“Even though you still have yet to gain experience in the realm of hunting, I think you’ll be a great new addition to the team Jisung. We have plenty of approachable people here who would be more than happy to assist you on your learning curve.”

“Such a relief to hear that.”

The voice matched the ingenuous appearance of the boy, and somehow Jeno already had an irked nerve creep under his skin from the thought of gaining a new inexperienced “co-worker.”

“Due to tight restrictions on sales and making sure everyone gets equal pay, you’ll probably be the last hire, but I'll make sure we get you trained to expectations in no time.”

Last hire? 

Jeno immediately fell into the depths of suspicion. 

There was only one possible meaning in Jeno’s eyes: and the answer was replacement. 

The mere thought of deception plagued the mind of the seasoned hunter, and to such a degree that he could’ve easily torn down the door and stormed in to give both of them hell. 

If anyone saw Jeno now, they would see a raged monster—veins pulsed along his arms and down to his fists where he aimed to punch the wall nearest to him. The impact from his knuckle to the grey wall proved to be successful, and no amount of sting could’ve prevented him from giving another punch. 

Of course they heard it. And he didn’t want to stick around to see their faces when they came out to check. The self- control Jeno possessed, would ultimately spare the two of his wrath. 

The thought of training no longer sounded appealing; only real damage…real blood, could diffuse his anger. 

And no one could stop him from killing the way he wanted to. 

Not even his own brother, that just so happened to unveil himself from his shared room with Yuta. 

Hendery was just beginning to start his day, having already decided to sharpen his crossbow arrows, as training with them weakened the aluminum overtime.

He heard the loud “thud” just as he opened his bedroom door, and to his surprise, Jeno was storming off in the direction of the courtyard.

Something had to have bothered him, especially to the point that a large dent was made into the plastered wall on the other side of Johnny’s office.

Did he have an impromptu meeting? 

As Hendery began to jog towards his impetuous brother, he heard the creak of the office door, but couldn’t bother to look back at who appeared from inside.  

“Jeno! What’s going on?” 

His call yielded no response, and it seemed like miles before he got in arms reach of him.   

Just like Hendery predicted, Jeno made it to the frosted glass doors of the courtyard, violently pushing them open to the point of almost cracking the inorganic material. 

Hendery managed to lunge forward, ignoring the voices of Sungchan and Yuta in the distance as he cupped the back of Jeno’s shoulder.

“What the fuck’s going on?! Stop!” 

Without conscious thought, Hendery’s reflexes erupted from the center of his body, branching out towards his limbs to forge protection from the sudden backhand Jeno tried to give with his left hand. Hendery adjusted his footing to keep from falling backwards, but it seemed that he had to be one step ahead to handle Jeno’s blind rage. 

Sungchan and Yuta halted side-by-side, just in time to see Jeno practically attacking his own brother, with the first strike barely missing, though another seemed to be winding up from his right hand.  

“What could you possibly do, huh? I’m getting fucking replaced!” 

Sungchan was the first to look at Yuta with confusion as they heard Jeno’s explosive response. Even from their position at the doors, they could see every contour of Jeno’s muscles contract along his arms, with veins bulging against both sides of his temple as he seemed to hold back a snarl. 

Regardless, the two hunters felt relieved to know they weren’t the ones trying to console an absolute maniac. 

They knew better. 

“What the hell?” 

Within minutes of the brawl, a flurry of bodies appeared at the door. Johnny rushed down the steps after uttering his shock, followed by Jisung—and in the process of his first appearance, earned a scoff from Yuta as he brushed past. YangYang was the last to reach the ensemble, teeming with frustration at his inability to get accustomed to his crutches. 

If any outsider saw the scene before them, they would question if there was any proper authority amongst a group of murderous men. 

“Jeno! You have to stop!” 

No amount of pleas from Johnny could tear the two brothers apart. And whether or not it was to make a good first impression, Jisung lunged into action to separate them both as best as he could.

With the assistance of Johnny, who was undoubtedly stronger than the three combined, the heavy strikes to each other's bodies eventually ceased…followed by bruised cheeks, puffed lips, and labored breaths that flooded the hostile climate. 

Clearly, Jisung made the mistake of keeping his hands glued to Jeno’s shoulders as he rose from the dark granite rocks, shoving away the unwarranted contact. 

“After all these years of me outperforming everyone you’ve ever known, you’re going to throw me away?” 

He spat in Johnny’s face, even bucking towards him without shame before turning his attention back to Jisung. It was clear that Jeno wasn’t done, and Hendery’s intuition seemed to outshine everyone as he noticed his brother gearing up for another strike. Maybe it was the fact they were both bound by blood, as the two were always one step ahead of each other’s intentions. 

Despite the pain burning at his body, Hendery put himself in between Jeno and Jisung, yet again taking another punch, this time for someone he hadn’t even propely met. 

He took the brute force of Jeno’s knuckles, with plenty of newtons to make him stumble back. 

Jisung barely had time to flinch, but the aftershock left him feeling indebted towards Hendery. 

“I don’t want to lose any of you! If you came to me in private, I would’ve explained, but instead you go absolutely insane thinking he was your replacement?!”

For the first time, Jeno let his fists unclench with a harsh grimace. If it was to hide his disgrace or combat the raging headache, no one would ever know. 

Johnny stepped closer to Jeno, seeking out a valid response, but he was met with an ungracious exit. 

Hendery held onto his aching cheek as he watched Jeno walk away, presumably to never come back. 

His final act of longing to reach for his brother was interrupted as Johnny spoke,

“Just let him go…”

The entire courtyard turned to silence as Jeno pushed past his two comrades at the door, eventually disappearing in the adjacent hallway. 

Jisung was surprised to find that even after all of the chaos, Johnny remained calm. How? 

—

“Xiaojun…Xiaojun wake up! Do you hear that?” 

Off into the distance and below the same tree you both had been sleeping in for the past night, you heard the sound of flapping wings. 

Through the breeze, you couldn’t discern if they were from your kind or an animal, but you desperately needed a second set of ears to assist with your discovery.

After rubbing your companion’s arm, he finally awoke, albeit at a snail’s pace. The flapping stopped just as he stretched his upper body, and it didn’t take a genius to realize your disappointment.

But there again, you heard the high frequency sound of those same wings down below. 

This time Xiaojun heard it, and even his eyes grew an astonishing amount,

“I hear multiple sets of wings…do you?” 

Maybe his advanced hearing fared better than yours considering your lack of proper rest, but after concentrating enough with closed eyes, you heard it too.

“We should go check.”

You wondered if Xiaojun felt like risking his life yet again, but if this was anything like you hoped, then there was a better chance of survival with more than just two to a team.

He agreed with a subtle nod, and stayed close behind as you both crept towards the edge of the weeping willow. 

You paused before going any further, deciding to reach back and grab Giselle’s crown as it was practically your security blanket. 

Once you reached a safe distance, you scanned the twilight sky for any signs of aerial life. But that observation was soon forgotten as four pairs of living bodies were flying across the fescue grass. 

Myrtle, Canna, Red Flax, and Black Pansy rested atop each of their heads and you immediately recognized them.

Karina, Jaemin, Renjun, and Winter. 

You clutched Giselle’s crown close to your chest as you dove towards them, almost forgetting that Xiaojun was right behind you. 

Their hearing proved to be just as fruitful, as they each turned in the direction of your swift flight. 

Their faces, lighting up just as bright as the peeking sun over the horizon, gave you all of the strength in the world. They seemed to be alive and most importantly well considering the disaster that befell the community just two days ago. 

No words were spoken, just tears of relief as an assembly line of embraces filled the atmosphere.

Due to your excitement, you didn’t notice that they too had flower crowns, with Karina being the one to carry all three. 

Chenle, Ten, and NingNing. 

You felt a tight squeeze on your heart as you eyed the only evidence of their unforgettable beauty, but to see remnants of their existence was more than enough closure. 

Winter was the first to speak as you hugged her last, 

“I can’t believe you both are here! I’ve been crying ever since we made it out.”

She kept one hand on your shoulder as she used the other to rid the tear trailing past her chin. 

The abundance of emotions even managed to make Jaemin tear up, as he was someone who never cried. 

Karina seemed to keep her eyes trained on Giselle’s crown nestled in your hand, and as her lip began to quiver, you immediately rushed over to hug her again.

The two were inseparable—sisters who never missed the opportunity to experience life’s wonders together. 

You knew no amount of words would take away the pain, but you hoped that your affection would forge an era of healing. 

Based on her steady heartbeat and the collective encircle everyone decided to share, you knew it would happen eventually. 

“Have any of you seen my parents?” 

You waited until the group hug dispersed before asking, as you needed a solid look at each of their faces for any signs of an answer.  

The silence was deafening, but unfortunately more than enough to answer your question.

“I can barely recall what happened. Everything seemed like a blur…” 

Renjun’s statement garnered a collective nod. Nonetheless, you simply appreciated their existence as it didn’t seem like there was much left. 

—

Jeno had finally found a reason to keep going.

There, in a clearing upon chance, was the source of his thirst.  

Had the fight with his brother not happened, he would’ve missed the six fairies huddled in a circle amongst the teff grass. 

They seemed delighted in their reunion, albeit shaken up from recent events. 

Despite Jeno’s lack of supernatural abilities, he could still sense the wariness looming over their pitiful bodies…he could still feel the magnetic pull that drove him to be their absolute nightmare.  

If he was a dog, he would be salivating, shamelessly so. 

Ever since storming away from the courtyard, Jeno rushed back inside towards the training room to grab all of his signature weapons, along with any other utilities that would be of good use for his inevitable soul-searching. 

Considering Sungchan was quite intimidated by him, he doubted the tall lanky hunter would mind if he took some of his homemade smoke bombs.

Might as well make use of what’s here…

Jeno had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to go back home, especially now that he saw you. 

An absolute spectacle, perfect to use as an example of why your race was so  weak…so obsolete. 

Maybe it was the way you cautiously scanned the clearing ever so often, or the way you tugged at your opposite forearm to calm your nerves. 

Nothing stood out more than your doe eyes—even more gratifying if he was the reason they widened in fear. 

He clearly missed the opportunity to see that fiery emotion the first time he scoured your home. 

Now he couldn’t let the chance slip away. 

As he readied the smoke bomb in his left hand, his own eyes shifted into something sinister, like daggers ready to gouge at your delicate figure.  

A toss was all it took to unleash chaos, and though the plume of white smoke covered your initial shock, Jeno knew he would see more of you, eventually.

It was like muscle memory how effortlessly his throwing knives flew through the air, hitting three in quick succession, spurts of scarlet shooting from their collarbones, tainting the ground yet again at the hands of a homicidal aficionado. 

Their cries of pain were melodic, practically a sextet of symphony that grew louder the closer Jeno got.

Just like he had planned, you were unscathed, attempting to assist one that collapsed from his attack. 

There was something different in the way you gathered your arms to lift him, something special in the way you practically ignored the obvious face of danger to make sure he felt your presence. 

Jeno wasn’t the only one that noticed—the two that lucked out from the assault called your name, practically begging you to save yourself.

But based on the caresses you gave this frail boy, you would rather die than leave him.

How was it possible that a surge of jealousy brewed within his chest just as quickly as your selflessness?

—

Jaemin and Karina continued to shout your name as they made their way towards the weeping willow trees. 

Besides them, you were the last one standing.  

Every hit replayed in your mind upon impact.

Renjun, Winter, Xiaojun—with every blink, their bodies flailed from the sheer power of the flying daggers. The wisp of each knife was just too fast for your hearing.

You couldn’t let your world stop, not with Xiaojun gasping for air as the knife protruded from his neck. He needed you, and even if he didn’t survive, you begged him to be the last person you saw.

“I’m r-right here!” 

You attempted to wrap your arms around his upper body to drag him away, but each attempt only garnered more of a struggle. 

Specks of blood continued to paint his eyelids, with blotches of purple spreading where the knife lay buried. 

The only sounds that managed to escape Xiaojun’s quivering lips were labored sobs, and the determination to reassure him began to crumble beneath your feet. 

All thoughts of an escape melted away as you heard the sheath of a knife coming out of a holster.

—

Your eyes fluttered open just as fast as your wings, though there seemed to be something restricting the full momentum at which you could generate flight.

The feeling of cold metal gave you chills all throughout your body, and the realization of where you were made you feel even colder.

You were full size, surely because the stress you endured however long ago was too much for your body to endure. And somehow, there was a cage large enough to fit you as you hung from the ceiling like a lantern. 

You gave up on trying to keep your wings stimulated as it constantly hit the black steel bars holding you hostage. None of that mattered anymore as you took in the setting before you. 

A wooden shack, rusted tools leaning against the walls, and the same dome-shaped cages hanging from the ceiling, with your friends inside. 

They each had their own confines, but the only thing separating them from you was the lack of movement and familiar pulses within their chest. 

You slammed your eyes shut to focus on any signs of a heartbeat in case your eyes were deceiving you. 

Your hearing was substantial enough to catch two—Renjun and Xiaojun.  

It only took a second for your eyes to flood with tears as you realized Winter was silent…no sign of life in her once-rosy cheeks, no luster to her auburn strands, no apparent warmth to her skin.  

Everything was cold.

And the only lasting memory you would have was her body slumped in the cage—eyes staring blank towards the exit that was so close, yet so far. 

Jaemin and Karina were nowhere to be found in the garage-sized space, but you hoped to whatever god that they managed to escape. 

If they had, they were the last ones left.

There was no ounce of hope in your survival.

“Renjun! Xiaojun! Wake up…please!” 

Your hushed cries were just enough to wake Renjun as he lay cramped in the cage. He was slightly larger than you in stature, so you could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt as his wings failed to even twitch inside the metal bars.

He grimaced before raising his hand to touch the wound on his collarbone. Blood has pooled underneath his Victorian blouse, ruining the once pearl-colored fabric.

The dagger was out, and thankfully his body generated enough clotting to seal off the gash. The same could be said for Xiaojun too.

He shifted once more before scanning the room, eventually settling upon your crying eyes.

“Where are we?”

He choked up the same curiosity your own mind had garnered, though your wishes for a proper answer were slim to none. 

“I don’t know…just please try and wake Xiaojun!” 

Renjun was closest to him, merely centimeters away.

Just as he slivered his arm through the bars to shake at Xiaojun’s shoulder, he froze upon seeing Winter.

Your eyes whirled over in the same direction, but you regretted every blink spent on viewing her lifeless body; you were sure Renjun felt the same. The pain emanating from his expression told you so.

As he fought through his blurry vision, you focused your attention back on Xiaojun, who miraculously began to shift within the cage. 

Despite his brutal awakening, you couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful he remained through all the chaos.  

He winced from the stinging in his collarbone, blaring his ivory teeth that were just as bright as the moon, and just like Renjun, he too was stained all over.

The way his eyes immediately fell upon you would’ve made any flame last for an eternity. 

You would give your life for him.

The chance to do it would be soon, crashing down like a comet that would scorch your entire body in a blaze.  

A few clicks of what you assumed to be locks chimed throughout the room, and  there standing in the oak doorway was the end to your existence. 

Jeno.

To no surprise, he stilled in the door frame with heartless eyes, gleaming with the satisfaction of his catch.

He captured four of you on his own and could’ve easily taken two more. 

He stood in silence for what felt like fifty pendulum ticks, probably deciding how to execute each of you. 

Regardless of the fact that you were his prey, and prey were never meant to stare into the eyes of their predator, you couldn’t look away.

You had gotten a good look at him when his brother killed Giselle, but seeing him in this state made all the more difference to the stories your family told of him. 

He stood in similar black attire, with plenty of tactical accessories to compliment his status as a hunter—a knife holster on his left thigh, a belt assembled with the same smoke bombs he used earlier, and a few throwing knives tucked into an ankle holster on his right side.

There was a reason he was the most brutal one of them all. 

It didn’t take a lot to kill your kind, but it made his job more enjoyable if every method imaginable could be used.

Your trailing eyes proved to be a mistake, and your upcoming death all the more damning because of how flawless he appeared in front of you. 

His looks were even more deadly up close. Your eyes could’ve melted in their sockets at the sight of his sharp jawline, or even his cheekbones that heightened the electricity of his blue eyes. 

Maybe dying at the hands of someone so unbearably perfect would make the sequence into the afterlife a little less daunting.   

It was just a shame he wouldn’t make it quick. 

Finally you closed your eyes, only using your hearing to verify that his footsteps were coming towards your own personal cage. 

Your entire body flinched as you heard him unlock it and swing the door back, the gust of air rustling your eyelashes, forcing you to open your eyes wide.

He barely had to maneuver his body to wrap one hand around your entire waist, pulling you out of the cage like you were a feather from an owl.

You were nowhere comparable in size to him—the entire length of your body was easily a difference of a foot or more but your attention to those details were the least of your worries. 

The aroma of bergamot and cedarwood filled your nose, stemming from his neck and chest. Each beat of his pulse seemed to push the scent further into your senses, intoxicating enough to distract you from the fact he slammed you into the adjacent wall.

Your entire head recoiled against the weathered hardwood, causing your vision to multiply. It wasn’t until you felt his calloused hand wrap around your throat and lift you meters above the floor, that your sights finally settled. 

The cyan in his eyes had shifted to cobalt, though the diameter of color seemed to disperse as his pupils dilated. It was enough to make you wince, but showing fear would only fuel more desire.

“Please don’t…” 

You barely heard Xiaojun’s sniffled cries in the background, as the trance Jeno put you in was too much to decipher anything else. 

He continued to speak for you, but it didn’t seem to garner any second thoughts in Jeno’s mind.

You wished to be some sort of sacrifice; a guaranteed exit for what was left of your friends. There had to be something you could do to warrant that. 

The only other possibility was actually right in front of you, though you shuddered at the thought of breaking such a promise.

You were never one to plead for your life, but that seemed to be the only viable option to please the sadist in front of you.

With one final gulp that seemed to get caught in between his palm and continue down into your stomach, you brought up your hands to wrap around his own. 

His snarl only grew more intense as he watched, and there you saw a beast unleashing.

You opened your quivering lips, making a pitiful attempt at appearing even more pathetic than you already were.

“Take me…not them.” 

Just as you expected, he forced you forward by your neck, only to slam you back against the wall. It was definitely rougher than before, enough to make your brain feel like it would pop out of your skull. 

This time he stepped forward, using his chiseled thigh to separate your twisted legs.

His face was merely millimeters away from your own, and the coolness of his breath hit your lips like a blizzard.

You wondered why he didn’t verbally challenge your need for survival, but the reason was evident once you felt his groin make contact with your torso. 

He let his length speak for him. 

And with every squirm that you gave, it  continued to twitch under the confines of his combat pants. 

What you assumed to be the tip poked right underneath your breasts, and with that came the realization of how minuscule your kind truly was in comparison to his. 

Your eyes attempted to follow his other hand as he reached for his prized bowie knife attached to his left thigh. The brief yet ominous sound of it being unsheathed caused Xiaojun and Renjun to rustle in their cages.  

From where you were positioned, you could see Xiaojun just past Jeno’s shoulders. 

During this entire ordeal, you kept your eyes away from him, as the indignity of the situation was too much for your soul to bear. But now that it seemed your death was near, it was only right that you gave Xiaojun one final look of goodbye.  

You shifted your eyes over to the one person that remained with you through it all. 

Through your peripherals you could see the glimmering metal rush towards you, but instead of feeling a sharp twinge of pain, you felt a rush of cold. 

You could hear Xiaojun and Renjun’s breath hitch from afar as they both realized too that you were completely bare in front of them. Your clothes had flown off to the side, shredded from the sharpness of his trusted blade. 

Despite the coolness in the air, the warmth emanating from your core served as an invitation for the monster prodding at your stomach. 

Your entire body began to tremble uncontrollably, maybe as some sort of coping mechanism for the humiliation brewing deep within.

“Look at me!”

Your teary eyed shifted immediately back over to Jeno as he bellowed out his command, the cluster of veins in his neck shifting as he clenched his teeth. 

Your shaking didn’t seem to help as he positioned the tip of his blade at your collarbone, pressing inward to break the skin. 

“Keep looking…just like that.”

He spoke again, barely above a whisper; his speech matching the slow tempo of the knife being dragged down the centerline of your body.

The pain was nowhere near the worst to be endured, surely it was sharpness of the blade that kept the stinging bearable. 

A trail of blood followed, a fine line that only stopped once the tip of the blade reached your clit. 

You jumped considerably at the contact, which was enough to slice the bundle of nerves if you weren’t careful. 

As you tried to keep your composure, Jeno stared deep at your struggling frame, marveling in the way gravity caused all of the maroon fluid to pool around your warm mound. 

“Did you think I would kill you so soon?”

Any means of a response were thwarted as he tossed his knife to the floor. 

You were shocked, as that seemed to be his most prized possession, but in mere seconds you realized why.

In two swift motions he finally let go of your throat, leaving you to stumble onto your feet and gain a few recovering breaths. You weren’t even sure how to stand on your own two feet anymore, as you’d grown so accustomed to being one with the atmosphere, flying so freely before any of this mess started.  

Your chances at running towards your friends to set them free were all in vain as you heard the harsh sound of a zipper and belt clasp being undone. 

The sight of his cock snapping out of his briefs was enough to make you press your back as far back into the wall as you could. 

His length stood upright, with a glistening tip that managed to refract in the dimly lit room.

Time seemed to go slow as you watched his veins continue to pulse blood throughout his cock, keeping it just as red as your flushed cheeks. 

Precum dripped like a broken faucet with a distinct patter as it continued to hit the ground just as fast as your racing heartbeat. 

Your knees buckled as he used one hand to spread the clear liquid throughout his shaft in a slick up and down motion. 

He seemed to be sensitive already as he bucked into his own hand, trying his hardest to keep his self-pleasure to a minimum. 

You looked down to your feet to see that there were two puddles on the floor, one of your blood and one of his essence. 

The way they attempted to mix together kept your senses distracted, completely missing that Jeno stepped up to you with his pants at the ground and his tight shirt pushed up to his muscular chest. 

Your legs gave out just as he used one hand to grab at your hip, and the other hand to position his cock at your entrance. 

“First time I get to fuck anything like this…”

Your brief pleas of no were cut short at his pistoned inside you without warning, attempting to tear you apart without sympathy. The guttural groan he produced from his evil chords echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the walls louder than your friends screams.  

There was no way to respond to that, or to any of his actions for that matter. Not when you were being stuffed full, way past your limit. 

All you could do was cry out at the pressure as he came to a standstill. 

His mouth hung open in complete awe…somehow through his infliction of pain, you were wet. 

And the addition of your blood made the entry all the more gratifying.

He was barely a few inches inside, but he was already touching your cervix, and the bulge present in your stomach confirmed it.

Burning began to surge throughout your core even as he stood still to try and accommodate more for himself. 

“You can’t—nngh it’s too much!”

If he continued any further, you weren’t sure you would be able to voice your horror any longer. 

He was too enveloped in how tight you were to care; the pleasure way above anything he’s ever killed.

Your attempts to lift off his cock only made the burning grow and eventually, earned you more inches to try and take.

Now, both hands were on either side of your hips with a death grip strong enough to leave bruised handprints on either side.

You had no choice but to wrap both legs around his waist to alleviate some of the pressure. 

It wasn’t long before his groin finally made contact with yours, and shockingly you were able to breathe through all of the discomfort as he seated himself one final time.

The only thing keeping you grounded to reality was the continuous blood that seeped from your sternum and the grunts coming from Jeno’s drooling mouth as he began rocking into you at a steady pace.

You had long forgotten the others in the room—you couldn’t focus on that now or else you would go into shock. 

But it seemed the more rhythm and sounds that grew between your connecting bodies, the more inclined Jeno was to remind you of your broken state. 

You hoped the pleasure building within your core was strong enough to overshadow your guilt…the way he continued to hit every spot within your dripping pussy made you confident enough in that fact. 

Through it all, you couldn’t bring yourself to voice how full you felt. 

Your lips remained pursed together, sometimes even gnawing at the puffed skin to silence the sounds trying to escape your throat. 

It wasn’t until you and Jeno’s eyes met in sync, that a whimper managed to slip. 

Your eyes grew in horror, completely ignoring the skin slapping prodding at both of your ears. 

You failed, but it seemed to fuel every fiber of his being. 

He leaned forward to bury his face into your neck, allowing his tongue to paint a shiny picture along the side of your jawline. 

You whimpered again.

Like the puppet you were, you found your hands having a mind of their own, lifting to rake your fingers through the back of his platinum locks. 

“I could kill everyone you love, but you’ll still beg to take my cock…”

He groaned into your ear, tugging at your lobe for added effect. 

That was enough to feel a wave of disdained euphoria wash over your entire body. 

There was a band that seemed to snap at every nerve ending, causing you to squeeze your walls as tight as you could around his length until you came apart. 

Your back arched involuntarily, finally giving your wings a break from the wooden wall that continued to tear the skin open with every snap of his hips. 

“Fuck!”

He turned his head to roar against your cheek, hips slowly losing their rhythm the more your orgasm continued.

You voiced your displeasure with a whine as you felt him slide out of your weeping hole, only then did you realize that he wasn’t done with you.

He managed to face you to the wall despite how limp your legs were, and within seconds he was inside you again. 

This new position was even more intense than the last. 

Your hands grabbed at any crevice you could find on the wall for support as he drilled into you from behind.

Your eyes shifted down to see your juices splattering past his cum-laden pelvis, eventually mixing where the blood had turned black against the rustic oak floor.

“I’ll just keep you for myself, nothing more than a cock hungry slut…forever alone, taking everything I give you.”

His words stabbed at you worse than any knife. 

It was too late to self-loathe any longer. The deed was long overdue, as his own release was nearing.

You felt those familiar twitches deep inside your torso, coming all the way from his scarlet-covered cock. With one final snap of his hips, heat shot deep into your womb, coating your insides in milky white. The rest pooled against his groin, spilling onto the floor to join the rest of the filth the two of you created.

His animalistic sounds had morphed into more subdued moans that played over and over like a broken vinyl as he came down from his raptured high. 

Every word of caution from your family about Jeno seemed to be nonexistent now, because of you. 

You were nothing more than a toy for him to use. 

His exited you in a single breath, allowing your bruised body to slump onto the floor.

Convulsions soon followed as you felt his juices ooze out of your swollen hole. 

You were catatonic, barely even reacting to how shameless he was in fixing his attire. 

Only your hearing guided you to what he would do next. 

Maybe it was in your favor that your eyes were stuck facing the door, away from the eventual slaughter of your friends. 

You heard Jeno pick up his knife from the floor and walk over to what you presumed to be Renjun’s cage first. 

The rustling of the metal grew just as loud as his hysterical cries.

But there was something else in the distance that you could hear, outside of the cabin. 

Footsteps.  

They grew in speed until a brief stop. 

Luckily you were facing the door, hoping for some sort of savior.

It couldn’t have been Jaemin or Karina, as you would’ve heard the flutter of their wings instead. 

Through your frozen state, only your eyes could widen as you heard the door crash open. 

There standing with frenzied breaths was…Hendery. 

“Jeno I’ve been looking every—”

You watched as he dropped his hands, eyes scanning the sickening scene in front of him. There was a deafening pause, where you hoped the last bit of humanity rested within Hendery. 

You could only listen as he lunged at Jeno with a scream.

“You can’t fucking do this!!!” 

There was an obvious power struggle, enough to knock over various items in the cabin that crashed to the ground, but not enough to make you flinch. 

“Stop!! Jeno—”

Another pause, and this time you heard a knife enter someone’s skin. A rupture of what sounded like muscle tendon rang through your ears, followed by gurgling.

Time seemed to slow down as Xiaojun and Renjun entered your vision. 

Without a second thought, they lifted your broken body into their arms, a collaborative effort considering your current state. 

It was then that you saw the aftermath. 

Jeno was sprawled on the floor in a pool of his own blood, with his knife peeking out of his neck. 

The entire struggle was the claim of a life. But through it all, Hendery had set you all free. 

Your tears seemed to match that of the dark-haired human as he fell to his knees, mourning the loss of his brother by his own hands. 

A lasting memory that was etched into your mind instantly. 

Soon, the smell of petrichor entered your nose and then came the moonlight that illuminated your skin.

As the two of them flew up into the sky, you felt Renjun place Winter and Giselle’s flower crown into your arms as you were carried to freedom. 

—

to read about the lore, click here!

//tagging:

@tddyhyck @tsumuu @devinitysann

@oleoleniall @wingsss45 @onlyoursol-ace @xusbabe @cheyehc @derywinkle

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝THE SECOND DRINK.❞

(not my gif)

summary: the second part to the firewhiskey series, this time liquid courage brings you to the aftermath of the world cup. the drunken celebration and the we are the champions euphoria and the singing and dancing inside of your enormous tent - possibly the last time you and george would feel invincible, just hours before the world was flipped upside down.

warnings: domestic fluff, alcohol again, obviously, mentions of near-death experiences/being trampled, the phrase “drinking like a maniac” is used but in no way is alcohol being abused

word count: 1.4k

a/n: okay, okay, i know like 95% of what i write is smut, but i seriously love writing domestic fluff. :) hope you enjoy!

//////

“Let’s fucking go!” Fred shouted the moment he’d stomped back into the tent, flinging his arms into the air, “Break out the Firewhiskey, lads, it’s time to get our Irish party on…”

“Stop shouting, Fred,” Percy said irritably from the couch, shutting his outdated copy of Witch Weekly with a sharp SLAP. “You wouldn’t want Mother to hear about this, I assure you, I know you’ve been drinking like a maniac.”

“You’re so right, Weatherby,” George chortled from alongside Fred, and as Percy’s ears glowed red, you had to slap a hand to your mouth to suppress your laugh.

“Where did the boys go?” Arthur asked blankly from behind the twins, pivoting on his heel. Whether genuine or otherwise, he appeared not to have heard Fred’s desire to get drunk. “I - Harry?”

“Sorry, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as he ducked back into the tent, out of breath and red in the face. “That was - um, we ran into a couple of people.”

“That was the stupidest stunt I think you’ve ever pulled in your life, Ron!” a young, shrill voice you quickly realized was Hermione Granger’s shrieked from just outside the tent. “Five Galleons? For what?”

“Please don’t ask,” Harry tried weakly.

It had been an awkward stretch of time between the initial finale of the World Cup in the late afternoon and however long it had taken for the rest of them to get back to the tent after they’d decided to fetch some water from the opposite side of the campground. First getting back to your tent in the influx of wizards leaving the arena had been a terrifying endeavour, when everyone was shouting, cheering, dancing, singing, setting off green and gold bursts of sparks from their wands, and leprechauns were scampering about.

In fact, the horde had almost trampled you in their excitement, and you knew you’d never be able to repay Charlie for snatching you out just in time.

So it was understandable why you’d been reluctant to return to the festivities since then: you’d been lounging in the flat-sized tent with the older Weasley siblings, sipping tea and watching your leprechaun gold disappear on the counter while you waited for everyone to come back.

“I am ready to sleep for three days,” Ginny announced as she flounced back into the tent, her hands on her hips. “God, what a match!”

“Moran - Mullet - back to Moran - they score!” George cried out, laughing heartily at himself. “Where’s Bagman, eh? We’re bloody rich.”

“Where’s your girl?” Fred asked, looking around blankly, but he spotted you instantly. “Oh, there she is.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the title.

“You survived the campground,” you mumbled with a small smile on your face.

“We did,” George replied, stepping forward to wrap you in a hasty, one-armed hug. For seemingly no reason, he leaned in to kiss the side of your head, but you recognized the gesture for what it was.

“You still got the Firewhiskey?” he whispered in your ear.

You did: until Fred had openly announced his intention to get drunk, it had been kept a bit on the down low that you had the rest of the five Galleon bottle hidden away in your bag in the girls’ tent, because you knew there wasn’t a chance Molly would allow you to bring liquid courage to the World Cup.

(Honestly, it had been a bit saddening, knowing you were about to drink the rest of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get to Diagon Alley before you went off to Hogwarts to replenish your stash, and you’d be damned trying to getting a glass from Madam Rosmerta at Hogsmeade, so this was your summer’s last hurrah.)

Looking to the positive, you nodded slightly and released him.

“May as well put dinner on,” said Arthur, wandering around the kitchen kind of aimlessly, “The festivities will be starting soon...”

Ginny laughed, tossing her fiery red mane over her shoulder. “You say that like they haven’t already started, Dad.”

“We won, lads!” Fred took the opportunity to shout again, and everyone laughed, except Percy, but you saw his slight smile.

//////

As the evening progressed, the party atmosphere around the campground intensified. The sound of drums and bagpipes echoed through the night, people sang songs in the beautiful Irish tongue you couldn’t understand, and at some point, people began setting off colorful Muggle fireworks, casting dazzling spells into the night sky. Wizarding and magical entertainment combined together, it made for a wonderful and chaotic night.

The Weasley family and their friends gathered around a small campfire outside the tent, toasting marshmallows and giving each other a play-by-play of the afternoon’s match for the millionth time. It didn’t matter how many times they went over the match, how many lively debates erupted, or how many times somebody claimed to see the Snitch flying around before Krum, nobody could get enough.

“Moran was doing things with a Quaffle I’ve never seen before,” Ginny was saying, her eyes shining. “I cannot believe she was able to get that second goal past Zograf, it was honestly astounding-“

Above your heads, fireworks were detonating in fascinating spirals and twists bursting with colour, drowning out Ginny’s voice.

Tipsy, you stared up at them in wonder. There were leprechauns giggling and frolicking among the twinkling stars, taunting those sitting below, and the fireworks were consistently a mix of orange, green, and white for Ireland’s flag - you hadn’t seen any retaliation from the Bulgarian corner of the campsite just yet, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Ireland was demanding all the attention.

George had pulled you into him on the log, the Muggle fire was crackling in front of you, orange and warm. Your throat was still on fire from the first sips of Firewhiskey, but you were already feeling the warmth of the drink in your belly, and for a moment, all was well. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of George’s neck. He smelled like a spice you couldn’t quite place, and Chocolate Frogs.

“No time for losers…’cause we are the champions…” you heard a crowd singing in the distance, and you smiled gently, delighted that a Muggle song was so catchy, it had found its way into the wizarding world.

Amid the laughter and cheer, you couldn't help but express your curiosity about the mysterious stunt that Ron and Harry had pulled earlier, so you discreetly tapped Ron on the shoulder.

“Come on, you two, spill the beans. What did you do for those five Galleons?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

On his other side, Harry exchanged a glance with Ron before sharing a mischievous grin.

(Merlin, did he ever look like his father.)

"Let's just say we had a little bet with some fellow fans, and things got a bit competitive," Harry said, trying to be vague while his green eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ginny, who had been chatting with Bill, Charlie, and Percy, overheard their conversation and couldn't resist chiming in. "Oh, I know exactly what they did. You see, they challenged a group of Bulgarian fans to a broomstick race. They had to fly around the campsite three times, and the first one back won.”

Ron laughed, confirming Ginny's story, "Yeah, and I flew like a bat out of hell. Harry and I beat those Bulgarians fair and square. I've never seen Harry fly so fast, bloody hell.”

The group erupted into laughter as Ron continued his story in a melodramatic tone, describing his daring flight and the impressed expressions on the Bulgarian fans' faces. Even Percy, over on the other log, couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridicule of it.

“You know you weren’t supposed to do that, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, but her sourness seemed a bit forced: she had clearly enjoyed the spectacle just as much as everyone else.

With everyone laughing and merry, it seemed like a good time to slip away.

“Want a tea, George?” you asked rather pointedly, without looking at him.

Catching on, George was already getting up from the log. “Isn’t the kettle in the tent?’

“Be right back, everyone,” you announced, before you hurried back into the tent that positively stunk of cats.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you couldn't help but reflect on the incredible bond you had formed with the Weasley family. Your last summer hurrah had turned into an unforgettable adventure, and you looked forward to more magical moments at Hogwarts in the coming year.

[luciadiosa]

For my inspiration @umgatochamadopercyval

Maybe i will write some more short chapters/memories. I will upload it under the titel

"The Wish of kissing you"

James Noerington x fem!reader

If you like it: Like, reblogg, comment it and now -> Enjoy :)

-----------

He was talking and talking and the young soldier was listening. He could answer in a proper way and he listened him. The potential father-in-law.

His eyes was pinned in the distance while he listened to Weatherby Swann till the moment you rushed in. It wasn't even a second gone and he looked to you.

He watches you storming around, chatting to your friend, who talks more then you and then it happens. You stand there in the corner, both of you with tea cups in your hands. With your nice dresses. Your friend talks to you about the newest gossio. Which girl have been caught with which boy, what the young ladies wear and what bachlor is in.

He stares at you. He. And you notice it. Slowly you raise your. With your eyes you look above the edge of the cup to him.

His blue eyes hooks into yours. For a minute both of you forget to listening. Like a horse with blinders follwing the path, like a human in trance of a hypnotist, he smiles at you.

A warm smile which let you admire him even more. You grin shy behind your cup but he could see you smile because of the bigher cheek. With the procelan vessel you toast forward to him, which reveals your shy smile.

Caught, he quickly looks at your father and clears his throat. He wasn't here to make eyes at you and silently flirt. He's here to marry your sister. Expressing interest after both dads had discussed it and have been for years. Elizabeth and James Norrington sounds good. Both from noble and influential families. With good genes and reputation. Perfect for each other. James, too, persuaded himself of this and made friends with the idea.

But soon, like a cat in the dark, you crept through his head. You who are not good enough and out of the question. Because you were adopted. A poor girl with no pedigree. If he followed his heart, throwing everything rational overboard, it would probably break his mother's heart and his father would be disappointed.

-------

To read more: Masterlist or follow the tag:

The wish of kissing you fanfiction

[tortoisesshells]

for the five sentences game: elizabeth & weatherby swann and [looks around me] light

you got it, chief! here's a [checks notes] unnecessarily melancholy missing scene between Isla de Muerta and Jack's near-hanging.

There was comfort, if only in the physical attributes of the King’s House in Port Royal: her feather-soft mattress, food not gone rotted in the cask, windows wide to every wandering breeze – things which Elizabeth had always understood, vaguely and without much in comparison, to be luxuries. And yet – she was not comfortable. She missed the Pearl, down to its fetid lockers and the salt junk Mister Gibbs thought might have been mutton in Queen Anne’s time – here, irrevocably altered, she rattled like a badly-made cog, or an ill-set gem, and all the old ways of being combined with the looming reading of the banns (and Captain Sparrow’s hanging) were only bars, somehow – a prison. She paced the halls when she could not sleep, and in the library found her father. In the clear light of his prized spermaceti candles, he looked sleepless, small, and old; he came to his feet, and with such evident care as might shame her for wanting to escape all this, said: “Oh, Elizabeth, the night terrors for you, too?”

Send me character(s)/a ship and a one word prompt, and I will write a five sentence fic about it.

[ginnyweatherby]

Thanks to THIS beautiful beautiful fanart by @transdemon , I was actually inspired to write a story for the first time in well over a year. 💕

Just a little Doofenshmirtz family fluff to rot your teeth today.

Word Count: about 1000

-

A flash of lightning illuminated the curtain on the window just enough to catch Heinz's eye.

He always enjoyed thunderstorms, they were broody and foreboding, just like he pretended to be.

He snuggled deeper into his pillows as Charlene rolled over beside him, pulling the heavy quilt with her.  He hadn't shared a sleeping space with many people in his life, but she was certainly the biggest bed hog of them all.

He listened to his wife's even breathing as thunder continued to roll outside.  It sounded like it was coming closer.  It had been awhile since they'd had a good storm.

Just as he felt himself begin to drift off, a loud crack of thunder jolted him awake.  He felt Charlene jump as well.

Okay, that one got him.

It was only a second later before a new sound joined the cacophony of thunder, Charlene's snores, and his own pounding heart.

A high-pitched whining sound from the next room.  Vanessa.

Oh, his sweet baby.  She'd never taken well to storms.

Charlene shifted, her face still half buried in the pillow.  "I thought that might happen."

"I'll get her,"  Heinz said, already pulling himself from bed, swinging his legs over the edge.  "Go back to sleep."

"Just bring her in here,"  Charlene said, rubbing her eyes.  "She won't go back to sleep if it keeps up like-"

Another loud crack of thunder, and another shrill screech from Vanessa.

"-like that."

Heinz nodded, and made his way to Vanessa's nursery.

What greeted him was the sorriest, most pitiful little face he'd ever seen.  Big, wet, blue eyes stared at him over the bars of the crib, footie-pajama clad feet stamping in time with her screams.

"Shh, Vanessa, it's okay, it's okay!"  Heinz cooed, as he lifted the girl into his arms.  "It's just the rain."

Vanessa didn't look convinced, her little face screwed up in a deep frown as she kept up her screaming, causing Heinz's ears to ring.  For someone so tiny, she certainly had a decent set of lungs on her.

He stood in the middle of her room, holding her tight against his chest while he rocked in place, murmuring soft and comforting things he wasn't sure she even understood.

Nevertheless, it seemed to help, and Vanessa eventually quieted down.  She smushed her face into his shoulder, tears and snot moistening his shirt.

With a wince, Heinz grabbed a tissue and wiped her nose.  "That's my girl."

"Mumma."

Vanessa had only just begun using actual words, and to Charlene's amusement, "Mumma" had been the first (and so far favorite) one.

"Yes, yes, let's go find Mommy,"  Heinz hiked the baby higher on his hip, and together they found their way back to his bedroom.

"Mumma!"  Vanessa's face brightened as she caught sight of Charlene, who was now sitting up in bed, back against the headboard.

"Hi you,"  Charlene reached out, and Heinz placed Vanessa on the bed, who clamored over to her mother.  "You're supposed to be sleeping."

As if to prove her point, Vanessa let out a wide yawn.

Charlene chuckled, as she pulled the girl against herself, Vanessa nuzzling her face into her mother's cozy pajama top.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, giving Heinz just enough time to register what would come next: a crash of thunder loud enough to cause the cat to yelp and scurry under the bed, nearly knocking him over in the process.

Vanessa screamed, tears welling up in her eyes.  "Mumma!?"

"Shh,"  Charlene rubbed her back with one hand, as she reached into her bedside drawer and retrieved a pacifier with the other.

Heinz chuckled under his breath.  He swore she kept those within reach no matter where in the house you happened to be standing.

Vanessa accepted it gratefully, as she tugged on her mother's necklace, rubbing the pearls between her fingers.  It was a habit she tended to do when in need of additional comfort.

(Considering she rarely slept in her jewelry, Heinz had a feeling Charlene had put it on just now, anticipating Vanessa's need for it.)

After awhile, Charlene began to wriggle uncomfortably where she sat, letting out a grunt as she shifted against the wooden headboard.

Heinz took that as his cue to crawl into bed beside her, opening his arms.

Charlene accepted the offer, snuggling into his lap, while Vanessa laid comfortably across her chest.

"You know we joke how it never rains in Danville,"  Heinz said.  "But now I'm sort of glad it doesn't, poor thing would never get any rest."

Charlene hummed, and pressed a kiss into Vanessa's hair.  "She'll be alright, she'll grow out of it."

Vanessa sniffled.

"... Eventually."

Vanessa was quieter now, her sobs settling into soft whines, but her eyes were still wide and bright.

Heinz reached around and patted her back, tracing the sheep patterns on her sleeper.

"We got you, honey,"  Heinz murmured.  He pulled a blanket around the three of them, shielding Vanessa's view from the lightning flashes just outside the window.

They stayed like that for what felt like ages.  Heinz was starting to get a cramp in his leg from the awkward position, but he didn't dare move.  As long as his girls were comfortable, that was what he cared about.

Finally, the storm started to move away from them, each roll of thunder softer than the last.

Vanessa's eyelids were looking very heavy, and each blink seemed to require significant  effort.  She was so cute.

"Go to sleep, sweetie,"  Heinz muttered, pulling the blanket a little tighter around them.

"Mumma,"  Vanessa muttered.

"Yes, Mommy too."

As if on cue, he felt Charlene go completely lax against him, as she succumbed to sleep.  Heinz snorted as he bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Dadda?"

"Mmhm,"  Heinz hummed, a small smile on his lips from hearing her use his name.

That seemed to be all the answer Vanessa needed, as her own eyes finally drifted shut as well.

[boltlightning]

beyond this morning

After the confrontation on the precipice, before Commodore Norrington sets off to hunt pirates, Governor Swann drops in for a visit. 1.3k words, immediately post-cotbp. one-shot

“You know I have always appreciated your candor, Commodore,” Weatherby returns. “Tell me how you are feeling. You do not need to save face with me.”

“I cannot discuss such things with her father, of all people,” Norrington says stiffly.

“Nor with a friend?”

“Are the two so separate?”

“Come now,” Weatherby chides, with a click of his tongue, “give me some credit, man! I’ll not go running to Elizabeth with the deepest contents of your heart; I think she’s had quite the hand in making a mess of them already. You know well I would do anything for her, but that does not mean I do not owe you a certain amount of loyalty, too.

“And perhaps,” he adds, after a beat, “I am a bit concerned at how quickly this all happened. And what all is at stake.”

(read on ao3!)

[johnbly]

[FIC] a swann missing

Summary: 

The pirates have withdrawn from Port Royal, taking Elizabeth Swann with them. Commodore Norrington takes it upon himself to inform the governor of the situation.

Word Count: 2,206

read on ao3 (written for @20yrsofpirateszine)

Excerpt:

The newly promoted Commodore Norrington looks out at the destruction from the entrance to the fort. It’s terrible from above, seeing the extent of it all in the moonlight, but there’s something equally as terrible about being on the ground. Hearing the crackling of the flames, the occasional groan from someone injured. It is a far cry from the sounds earlier this same day: the drums and fifes that announced his arrival, the quiet as Governor Swann gave him his sword, the pleasant music while the guests milled about.

As to be expected, the parts of town closest to the harbor took the most damage—from cannonfire, at any rate. He’s sure the pirates on foot did much the same with cutlasses and pistols, but he hasn’t walked the streets yet. At least by some small miracle the ships don’t appear to have come to much harm.

James had expected his first battle as commodore to come at sea, or some isolated island where he’d cornered pirates. But not Port Royal. Not for his first, and perhaps not ever.

Whether because of the message hanging in the entrance to the harbor or by word of mouth, pirates have not so much as been sighted from Port Royal in months. And now, in one day, he's arrested one and seen a ship full of others fire upon the town. It cannot be a coincidence.

Checking on Sparrow will have to be one item on the lengthy to-do list. It’s impossible that the pirates came specifically for him, seeing how he’s only just been captured, but that doesn’t mean they hadn’t come across him during their raid and freed him.

That can wait, though. Either the man is gone, or he’s still secure in his cell. There are more pressing matters to take care of first, like—

“Commodore!”

James turns. Gillette is there, looking serious. It’s the face of a man who has difficult news to deliver, though there are too many fires around them—literal and metaphorical—for James to even bother to guess what the lieutenant is about to say.

“I’ve just spoken with the marine you sent to the governor’s mansion.”

[clarkes-and-god]

If Esther did have a career in an alternate universe, what would she do?

Can't think of anything more ATM but you were one of the blogs who inspired me to start the Weatherbys 💛 love ur writing!

hmmm, i think she would probably be the manager of like, a mid-level department or beauty store and she would absolutely run that place like the fucking navy. like i’m thinking boots or john lewis but they’re very british examples, so whatever the american equivalent is. you would not want to mess with her christmas displays or try but nail glue as an under 18 with esther clarke working.

also tysm for the compliment! i didn’t realise u were the weatherbys, i love your blog so much, your screenshots are beautiful!

[moregraceful]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

this is such a nice exercise, thank you, i was just getting so ripped up over my wip while also trying to acknowledge that self-loathing wasn't going to make the editing process better in any meaningful way.

in no particular order:

5 Uses For A Parachute You Won’t Find In An Army Field Manual [band of brothers, gen, general]

(but which Major Dick Winters lets slide because it’s good for morale.)

this fic is one of my favorite fics i've ever written, it's so joyful!! but also such a big heart and so much love for the people in it. ah....friendship in a war zone...

And grace will lead us home [baseball rpf, bo bichette/vladimir guerrero jr, general]

Vlad knows only a couple things to be true. God is real, obviously. The sound of a ball hitting a wooden bat is the sound that the universe was made for. He’s in love with Bo.

i was down SO BAD for the bb jays in 2021. and so fascinated by vladdy and bo while knowing negative things about them...they were just always huggin on the bb jays instagram!! so i wrote a fic abt them that very gently plays with religious imagery and the concept of magic. it came together in a way i love so much.

Trust Me [jonas brothers/bandom, gen, teen]

Nick says, "I'm sorry. I was homeschooled."

"Then this will be a very interesting experience for you," says the tall blonde guy. "My name's Bob."

you know when you write something and you're like, this legitimately might be the greatest work i ever write? and you're literally 21? and it's not that it's the greatest thing you've ever written, but you're going through a really gross reality shock in your first two years away from home and so so many things are new and exciting and scary but you're starting to feel so interested in having a future, which you didn't really plan on during high school? the jonas brothers coming of age on warped tour 🤝 me at my shit ass small liberal arts school reading books by living non-white non-american authors

Don’t carry nothing but the righteous and the holy [hockey rpf, jasper weatherby/william eklund, teen]

Jasper Weatherby On William Eklund’s Return to San Jose April 8, 2022 | Sheng Peng, San Jose Hockey Now Jasper Weatherby was all smiles after today’s practice at the SAP Center. The reason? “I’m just excited to have Gecko back.” Jasper Weatherby and William Eklund were fast friends at the start of the 2021-2022 season. Weatherby and Eklund, who had been roommates throughout rookie camp and remained road roommates and hotelmates, had bonded over the unique experience of living in the Bay Area...

this fic literally exists outside the space-time continuum. like you have to read it as an artifact of its time (no cuda fandom, very small sharks fandom, william eklund a just-hatched baby bird with no feathers) for it to even be salvageable as a fanfic, but there like. WAS no time, there was only me, my growing jasper weatherby feelings, and an unexpected 10 day vacation at the end of the year. i love it so much and would write it completely differently if i wrote it now. so i'm very glad i wrote it when i did, because it just has so much love and is so hopeful and so chaotic.

Every year with you is better than the last [hockey rpf, devon toews/cale makar, explicit]

“Ah, it’s fine,” says Cale. “You don’t have to buy me anything.” “I want to,” says Devon, and once he says it, he realizes he really does. He doesn’t get a chance to give Cale presents often, because Cale makes more money than him and rarely asks for anything. Birthdays are hell with this guy. Something little goes a long way.

i actually don't even reread this regularly bc i get so mad about the process i went through while posting it, but it IS one of my favorite things that i've ever written. i really wanted to try to write a friends with benefits fic where they aren't In Love-in love and they stay friends only but are deeply committed to caring for each other. and i think i did that pretty well tbh. it came together how i wanted it to. though i sometimes think about the hypothetical future of cale and devon in the fic and get kind of sad. like, is there a future for them where they remain the same or does cale eventually fall for devon and the peace between them gets wrecked or does devon get traded and cale's little heart cracks without him, or. you know like what happens to cale, basically, i don't know. i'm not writing a sequel but i think about their future from cale's pov quite often

thank you for sending this, i really appreciate it!!!

[saintsenara]

subluxation - a snippet

rodolphus lestrange/percy weasley mature | major character death

and a little snippet from chapter three of subluxation...

featuring a character i've become obsessed with thinking about over the course of planning and writing this story - barty crouch sr. - and a question which has preoccupied me since i first read goblet of fire - did ludo bagman get away with being a death eater?

He lays another piece of parchment in Mr Crouch’s in-tray - a pro-forma reply to Mr Karkaroff about how many delegates they can bring to Hogwarts; a nice change from the fake compensation claims and Howlers about the security at the World Cup, no matter how vociferously Karkaroff will complain that the number is too low - and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

He’s exhausted. It’s been all hands on deck.

Or, at least, that’s what he’ll tell mum when he staggers through the Floo at some ungodly hour tonight. The truth is that he probably could have gone home ages ago, that there’s no real reason for him to still be in the office as midnight approaches, save for the fact that he’s worried about Mr Crouch.

There’s been a grey tinge to his skin ever since he laid eyes on the Dark Mark - a hollowness to him - and Percy feels an increasing responsibility to bring him cups of tea, to hide the morning’s Prophet so that Mr Crouch doesn’t see Rita Skeeter’s latest and fall into brooding.

He looks up and sees - through the open door to his office - that Mr Crouch is sitting at his desk with a newspaper spread before him. Percy swears internally at having let one slip through his defences, but he realises, as he steps - clearing his throat nervously - over the threshold that Mr Crouch has called it up from the archive. The paper is yellowing, the newspring fading. It must be at least a decade old.

Mr Bagman - or, Mr Bagman as he was in his prime, muscles rippling beneath his Quidditch jersey, white-toothed grin beaming at the camera - poses in a photograph. The article is a puff piece about an audacious whack he’d given Tunisia’s star chaser. Percy has no idea why it would be of interest to Mr Crouch at a time like this…

‘He was a Death Eater.’

‘I’m sorry, sir?’

‘He was a Death Eater,’ says Mr Crouch, as though he’d read Percy’s mind.

If Percy wasn’t completely sure that Mr Crouch had never told a joke in his life, he would’ve laughed.

‘Mr Bagman? A Death Eater?’

His voice is light. Mr Crouch is clearly just feeling the strain of so much overwork; he’ll get some decent sleep and be appalled that he ever suggested something so absurd. The Death Eaters were monsters - everyone knows that - but they were at least efficient ones. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s tendency to lose his rag if paperwork wasn’t perfect is so widely known that the junior clerks in the office vent their frustration at being asked to edit and re-edit their reports by referring to Mr Crouch as “my lord” behind his back.

Mr Bagman - all cheerful laziness and hearty incompetence; who’d given them prime seats at the World Cup because dad had fixed it so his brother would get off a charge of trading illegally-altered Muggle lawnmowers - would have given the Dark Lord an aneurysm.

But Mr Crouch still doesn’t seem to realise that he’s being ridiculous.

‘Not an important one. Not one that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took any real interest in. Not like my -’ His hands convulsively rearrange the quills on his desk. The bones of his knuckles protrude sharply; he’s lost a lot of weight since the world cup. ‘But still… a Death Eater is a Death Eater, Weatherby.’

‘Sir -?’

‘Nobody else saw it like that,’ he mutters. ‘Bagnold… Dumbledore… Cut off the head - that’s what they said. Cut off the head. Deprive him of his top men… his generals… Cut off the head and the body cannot function. They didn’t care about the little fish… They didn’t care about the footsoldiers… about the counterfeiters keeping him in forged gold… about the men sitting in pubs up and down the country trading illegal poisons and keeping their eyes peeled for new recruits… “Why not show them some mercy, Barty?” That’s what Dumbledore said… Dumbledore thought he didn’t care a jot for the ordinary man… Dumbledore was a fool…’

There’s a tension building in the square lines of his shoulders, hardening so rapidly that Percy’s sure it must soon snap.

‘I knew better, Weatherby… It could never be enough to just cut off the head. The body needed to be dismembered, the rot cut out piece-by-piece. We had to find the poison where it started… And it started among ordinary people, people who were just wondering if the Death Eaters could really be as bad as they were being painted… I told them… I told them that if we didn’t stamp it out at the source then we’d never eradicate it… I told them… I told Dumbledore that every single person who even thought about offering assistance to the Death Eaters should have been in Azkaban. It doesn’t matter if their only crime was to make the Dark Lord his morning coffee… They are abominations. They can have no place in the Ministry.’

Percy’s familiar - of course - with Mr Crouch’s wartime reputation. It’s one of the reasons he admires him so much, one of the reasons why he feels a twist of resentment in his stomach whenever his father - with his Dumbledore-ish fondness for redemption - calls his conduct harsh or cruel. It’s one of the reasons he feels compelled to protect Mr Crouch from the whispers which still follow him… I know it was his duty, but still… to send his own son to Azkaban…

Mr Crouch is still glaring at the photograph of Mr Bagman. ‘I caught him red-handed rummaging through the filing cabinets in his father’s offices. He’d been at it for years, swiping folders from the Wizengamot records and then toddling along to apprise Augustus Rookwood of their contents. Augustus Rookwood… he was one of the top men, one of the Dark Lord’s greatest favourites… And no wonder, when he could offer his master state secrets like they were the day’s weather report…

‘We tried for years to find the leak… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named seemed to be a step ahead of us at every turn, it didn’t seem as though we’d ever catch the man who was helping him… And then I did. I caught Rookwood… and Dumbledore persuaded the court to refuse permission for the Kiss… I caught Bagman… and all he had to do was gurn like a simpleton at the Wizengamot and they let him off without so much as a caution…’

His voice is hot with tightly-controlled fury. Percy has never seen him like this.

It’s terrifying.

‘Mr Bagman?’ he says again. Except the suggestion no longer seems quite so amusing. ‘A Death Eater?’

‘The Ministry is crawling with them. They are everywhere, like termites in the woodwork, and I was the only person who ever tried to do anything to stop them bringing this place to its knees… And what did I get for my trouble? The Prophet digging through the dustbins and terrifying my poor wife into an early grave…’

He stares at the wall, eyes dark. Percy wonders whether he knows that he’s not alone.

‘I have to get into lifts with them every day and fight the urge to raise my wand. I have to listen to them as they sit opposite me at conference tables and pretend not to notice that they think it’s funny that I have been reduced to this… That I couldn’t stop them, when I know full well what they did… Every single one of them was right in the inner circle, hand-picked by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… And yet all they had to do was jingle their moneybags at the Wizengamot and claim they were under the Imperius Curse and they walked free, no further questions…

‘Corban Yaxley. Gaius Kneebone. Benedict Selwyn. All of them were Death Eaters… They were never under the Imperius Curse… Eadmer Avery, who practically runs Gringotts… Iago Carrow, who got a cushy little ambassadorship because Bagnold believed his lies that I’d falsely accused him… Abraxas Malfoy, who spends his days making the board of St Mungo’s beg him for his largesse… He’s a murderer a hundred times over… His son’s even worse…’

His hand is shaking.

‘Remember this, Weatherby, if you remember nothing else I tell you… If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a Death Eater who walked free.’

[tyxoxo]

Ylang Ylang - teaser.

teaser, find full fic here.

| pairing: fairyhunter!jeno x fairy!reader (afab) au w/ fairy!xiaojun x fairy!reader (if you squint)

| genre: suspense, angst, fantasy, multiple nct/wayv + aespa character inserts, jeno and hendery are brothers

| summary: while being close to you and your family’s extinction, a promise needs to be broken to save the lives of your people

| words: loading…

| (future) warnings: murder, blood, torture, cnc smut + suggestive scenes, blackmail, kidnapping, exhibitionism, caging/imprisonment, degrading, spitting, unprotected sex

(this is purely fiction, warnings in bold mean potentially triggering content)

a/n: @jenomov and i came up with this concept out of nowhere and we decided to start writing our own versions. BUT i did make a header for us to share while she typed up the summary (which is awesome cuz i suck at them). just thought i’d clarify so no one would think we’re stealing/plagiarizing each other's work. just think of this as a collab! :’)) also, jeno’s look in the header is essentially how i envisioned him to look for this story but imagine him however you want (can’t help that haechan takes great pictures ㅠㅠ) 

playlist: 

livv? - ylang ylang

weatherby - fleeting frozen heart 

alex sloane - mine

datfootdive - stars

“C’mon Xiaojun, spit it out already!!” 

You teased at your loving best friend, shoving him playfully with a single finger as you watched him struggle to speak lucid sentences.

The two of you were in your favorite and most “private” hang out spot—in the trees on the outskirts of your shared village. Far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the community, but close enough for comfort. Though you tried your best not to drift into the terminology of “safety”, “danger”, or “warnings.” 

It was a sure way to initiate ill omens.

Both of your parents were aware of your shared infinity for exploring; venturing past the municipality limits. But as long as the two of you shrunk to “the size of a quail” outside of the village, they allowed you to bask in the wonders of blaring curiosity, to your heart’s content. Your species could never truly bring your guard down…

“Sorry…I just can’t form my words today.” He scratched the back of his head as peered down at his lap, rustling the Crane's-bill flower crown perched atop his mauve hair in the process. 

“Since when do you ever really form your words?” 

This time you gave a subtle laugh to pair with your smile, hoping to ease his obvious discombobulation. 

“You’re right. I don’t.” 

His eyes met yours, his wings even twitching, which always signified when your kind was flustered.

He continued again, pulling at his own thumb as he drifted his eyes up to the newly blossomed tree leaves; an obvious attempt to avoid eye contact.

You could try to deny it for as long as you lived, but there was something within you that adored him more than he probably ever knew.

It was his tenderness, his soothing voice, his patience, whether it was those nights you stormed out of your house in search of him, as a form of solace from the constant nightmares of your genocide, or the days that you wanted to rant about your parent’s overprotectiveness (though they’ve eased up in recent years).

Anything you needed, he was there. And you always tried your best to do the same, despite having the feeling that he bottled up some of his troubles to keep from feeling like a burden himself.

“Well…I w-wanted to tell you, that I really appreciate you.” 

He gave up on his own finger trap, to tug at the bottom of his white flounce shirt, finally meeting your eyes again with another twitch of his translucent wings.  

“I appreciate you too Xiaojun, always.” 

You leaned forward, so light that you barely caused the branch underneath you to stir. He froze upon witnessing your close contact, only his brown irises lowering to watch as you took both of his hands into your own.

“Is everything okay?” 

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out in a whisper, but his stuttering had become more frequent, and this only made your thoughts whirl just as loudly as his.

If only you knew that he was on his way to confess his true feelings to you, if only he could get his mouth to work as fast as his brain, maybe then he could finally pull the weight off his shoulders.

But you made all of this difficult without even trying. His love for everything that was you, was infinite. 

Even your constant teasing.

And the glimmer in your eyes was no match for his composure, let alone the way you held his hands. 

You scanned his face in search of an answer, that definitely took too long for him to spill.

“Yeah don’t worry, everything's fine.” 

You tilted your head in confusion, wondering where this could possibly be going, knowing he was aware of your ever-so-obvious “what’s the deal” persona. 

He cleared his throat, and geared himself up for the revelation of a lifetime,

“I’ve been m-meaning to tell you that I really like you…that I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you.”

You felt your wings twitch, more noticeable than his own. And the warmth that flooded your entire body could’ve lit the entire forest in a swarming blaze. 

“W-would it be crazy if I asked you to be mine—”

His lips seemed to come at a rest in slow motion, eyelashes fluttering in stark contrast as he heard your breath hitch in your throat.

Not even the sun’s rays that flashed through the white pine tree could’ve taken you out of your shock. 

You used what seconds you had left, to replay his confession in your head,

“…I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have this moment with you”

Xiaojun, your best friend since childhood, had always dreamed of this.

But the thoughts of responding were ripped away, as blood-curdling screams roared from the direction of your home. They weren’t light hearted nor playful by any means, and with the ability to hear great distances, the agony that bestowed upon your ears caused you both to wince in fear. 

Xiaojun turned his head to look through the leaves, skin turning pale upon hearing further destruction. 

Most of the branches obscured your vision, but it didn’t take much longer for the despair to continue. 

“They found us!” 

That voice, sounded like Karina.

And her frenzied words gave the answer—after 10 years of hiding, the hunters were back. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, the ability to breathe becoming a distant memory.  

You squeezed Xiaojun’s hand as you crawled through the thick pine, your best friend eventually grabbing your waist to stop you from venturing out too far.

“Stay back!” His hushed tone was never this turbulent, bringing all the more truth to the chaos brewing just a mile away. 

“This can’t be! We have to go help!”

“It’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you getting hurt!” 

Your adrenaline was too much for Xiaojun, as you managed to fight through his tight embrace or rather his hold on your longing to see your family and friends for what could be the last time. 

“Let me go! We can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

You attempted to gear your wings for flight as you broke through his hold, hands raking through the leaves to get a clear view through the sea of green.

As you hovered past the pine tree, a familiar being appeared to be flying this way, the telltale sign being the blush colored wings that matched the embroidered dress swaying through the win at high speeds.

It was Giselle. And upon her getting a closer distance, you saw the blood spatter that painted her arms in fresh crimson. 

She was her natural size, like what your kind all chose to be while in the comfort of your home, and the only guess as to why she didn’t choose to shrink was the amount of energy it took to do so. She seemed to grip at her side as the blood continued to stain her silk dress, not once looking up at which direction to fly. Her Dahlia flower crown was nowhere to be found, something that she cherished more than anything in the world.

You had to help her, get her to safety within the trees, whatever you could to secure a better fate. But the constant screams kept you too terrified to react, and being out in the open like this was indeed risky. 

Before you could muster the strength to call her name, Xiaojun was behind you, the vibration of his wings filling your senses. He leaped at you once again, this time pulling you back towards the trees with labored breaths.

He couldn’t just do this to you…prevent you from saving a life, from saving not only your friend, but his friend too.

You managed a measly call of her name, knowing her advanced hearing would be enough. And successfully, she glanced up for the first time since her escape, to watch as you motioned for her to join together in the same tree.

Her face, lit up with hope, was the last sanguine expression to ever grace her face, as the all too familiar sound of a crossbow arrow being loosed from its quarrel sped towards her injured frame.

Your scream, one just as gut-wrenching as those that continued from your home, was muffled against Xiaojun’s palm as he pulled you back within the tree. You were forced away from any further intervention, forced away from burying your guilt.  

Giselle flung forward from the sheer impact of the arrow as it shot through her heart, her umber strands flying through the air in the same intensity; entire body falling face forward onto the red speckled Bermuda grass.

You couldn’t look away, not while you witnessed her final moments—eyes drifting up to meet yours within her last breath, wings falling lifeless against her spine, and a faint smile from knowing you would be the last person she would ever see, instead of the hunters that were walking towards her. 

Your entire body shook against Xiaojun, trembling in fear that her killers would surely discover the two of you here.

“Fuck! Hendery I had her!” 

An unfamiliar voice, but one you would never forget, roared through the clearing that led to your dead friend. 

You never felt so much anger from a person before, someone that you could only imagine was seething at the teeth.

Xiaojun finally took his hands away from your mouth, allowing you to inhale as much as you could before they got too close. But he still kept his arms wrapped around you, fighting through his own sobs that hit against the back of your neck.

“No Jeno! I’m not letting you fuck this up anymore! Remember what Johnny said?”

Yet another unfamiliar voice, but you were able to put the faces with the names right as the two humans approached just meters away, barely appearing disheveled despite the chaos they just unleashed. Thankfully their lack of enhanced senses worked in your favor, as you and Xiaojun remained undetected during their inspection of the area.

The one holding the crossbow was Hendery: he had to have been the one to take the kill. And the one to speak first was Jeno. 

These had to have been the hunters your family warned about. For years since relocating to this new area, all of the last surviving elders made it their mission to describe these two, for if the day came that they scoured the land again, you would instantly know it was them. 

—

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!!