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nateezfics · 3 years

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I’ve been watching the anime Vampire Knight again and my mind is going insane. Like...I am absolutely crazy for spending so much time on this. Below the cut is me brainstorming and running away with an idea.

Imagine going to a private university where the student body is split in two parts. The day class and the night class. These two classes never cross as it is forbidden. The day class knows nothing more than that there is a night class, but the rest is a mystery. Not a single student of the light has seen a night time student. The daytime students do not know the the school’s dark secret. They do not know that the night class is full of vampires, vampires who wish to turn away from their evil natures. Though they are learning to keep their inner monsters at bay, they are still a potential danger to the day students, hence the separation.

You are the president of the women’s dormitories, and also part of the night watch. One night, after reprimanding two wandering students and sending them back to their dorm, you are confronted by two dashingly beautiful men. They wear uniforms with the school’s emblem, but you’ve never seen them before. It dawns on you that these must be students from the enigmatic night class. Their otherworldly beauty, their sharp fangs, their glowing eyes....everything about them seems...inhuman. Before you can blink, they close in on you, and then everything turns black.

When you awake, you realize much to your horror and confusion that you are not in your dorm. You’re in an unknown place. Soon you’re surrounded by a group of men, all who share the quality of dazzling beauty. As they gaze upon you with illuminated eyes, you realize that the night class is more than a class of students...it is a coven of vampires. You wonder what in the world you’ve been dragged into.

The Night Class

Hongjoong; Night class student president; president of the men’s dormitory (night class); level A/pure blood vampire

Hongjoong was the first student in Cross Academy’s night class

Befriended the Headmaster many years ago and the two shared a common interest: to see humans and vampires living harmoniously

Hongjoong originally fed on humans, but after meeting the Headmaster, decided to change his ways and fight against his own nature

Hongjoong helped give way to Headmaster’s dream of using Cross Academy as a way for vampires to better themselves

Hongjoong is several centuries old

He is a pure blood within level A, the top tier of the vampire class system, making him one of the most powerful and feared vampires around

The Kim family is one of the few remaining pure blood families

Saved the reader many years ago when she was only a small child from being killed by a vampire

Cared for her through the night and brought her to the Headmaster’s doorstep

Hongjoong follows the university’s strict rule of keeping himself and the night class hidden, despite wanting to check up on the reader who does not remember him

He is a kind vampire, but has a stained past which he tries to overcome

Is respected amongst both the school’s night class students and the vampire realm

Though he does get flack from the Vampire Council for trying to resist his vampire nature and being so friendly with humans

Seonghwa; Night class student secretary; right hand to the night class president; level A/pure blood vampire

Seonghwa is an old friend to Hongjoong, the two of them knowing each other for centuries

He is older than Hongjoong

Did not agree with Hongjoong’s theology at first, but eventually decided to join him at the academy

Seonghwa often acts as Hongjoong’s voice of reason, mostly because he helps keep the rest of the night class in check

If Hongjoong is away, Seonghwa acts as temporary president

Is a bit less ruthless than Hongjoong in terms of discipline, and he often gets called the “mother of the night class” due to his nurturing nature

He is a pure blooded vampire from the Park family, another powerful vampire line

He is not too fond of humans per se, but tries to follow along with Hongjoong, and tries to understand that their lives are precious

Him and Hongjoong both rely the least on blood pills (pills that act as a placebo to quench a vampire’s desire for actual blood from humans) due to having been in the academy the longest

Yunho; Day watcher/enforcer for the night class; hunter; level B/aristocratic vampire

Unlike the former two vampires, Yunho is not a pure blood

Meaning somewhere in his ancestry there are humans who’d been turned

Comes from a wealthy family, earning him the status of level B vampire

Has always been kind to humans somewhat, never preying on the innocent but instead preying on the evil, wrong doing humans like criminals

Befriends the Headmaster and joins the academy by his request

It doesn’t take long for Yunho to fall in line with the hope of one day living along side humans

Yunho watches over the night class section of campus and its dorms during the day to make sure no day students wander too close.

Carries out punishments to night class students at Hongjoong’s judgement

Often aids the Vampire Council in hunting and eliminating rogue level D vampires

Will also follow Hongjoong along side his missions to recruit more vampires into the academy

Is slowly trying to become less reliant on blood pills

Yeosang; Night class’ top student; scholar; level B/aristocratic vampire

Yeosang was recruited by Hongjoong to join, but at first was unwilling to join

He only decided to go to Cross Academy because of his ages old friend, Wooyoung

He’s an extremely picky eater

Always preyed on humans with a certain blood type and humans that came from high society families

After coming to the academy, Yeosang struggled with denying his bloodlust

His dislike for the blood pills didn’t help

Learned to keep it under control when he decided to just hunt for animals around the university’s campus

Is indifferent about wanting to be harmonious with humans

Despite this, he is the top student of the night class, having shown the most growth and progress

He’s a man of knowledge, loves to spend time in the library

He’s very sharp tongued, and often makes condescending quips about the other night class vampires, especially San

Does not use blood pills, rather he just feeds straight from animals

San; Night class transporter/gatekeeper; level C/common vampire

He’s in charge of leading the night class from their dorms to the main building

He makes sure all the day students are out of the building and classrooms

Usually has to wait for an all clear from the Headmaster

San was the first commoner, level C vampire to enroll at Cross Academy

Commoner vampires are normal, every day people, usually they are the vampires that walk amongst humans the most

San is incredibly powerful for a level C, and this is why Hongjoong recruited him

Isn’t quite sure how he feels about denying his vampire nature, but his respect for Hongjoong and his close lineage to humans compels him to try

Wooyoung is his companion, whether romantically or platonically is something the night class is always trying to find out

The two are inseparable

San came before Wooyoung, and when the latter first started at the academy, the two vampires quickly bonded over both being level C’s

San requires many blood pills a day

Being a level C means there is a lot of humanity in his lineage which also makes him most likely to go berserk and turn into a level D vampire, a mindless feral being

Mingi; Night class bookkeeper; scribe; level A/pure blood vampire

Mingi is somewhat of a right hand to the right hand

He often aids Seonghwa in managing the more tedious side parts of the night class, like paperwork

Mingi keeps record of all complaints, new students, dorm inspections, punishments, and schedules for each day

He also tends to the library as well as the music/recreation hall

Yunho is responsible for his presence at the academy

Mingi quickly earns respect from Hongjoong, and becomes Hongjoong’s left hand man with Seonghwa as his right

Mingi is tender hearted, and always struggled with his vampire nature

Feeding on humans was something he never enjoyed, a strange trait for a being with not a single ounce of humanity in his bloodline

Mingi often acts the source of cheer amongst the night class

He likes to compose, and sometimes he will play for the other vampires to allow everyone to unwind

The Song family was always close with the Jeong family, and because of this Yunho and Mingi have known each for a very long time

Does not rely on blood pills all that much, but takes them as soon as he feels any amount thirst for blood because he does not like the feeling of bloodlust and the way it reminds him of how evil his kind is

Wooyoung; Class socialite; level C/common vampire

Wooyoung is a common vampire like San, but this does not keep him from befriending vampires of all classes

He is very extroverted, and Hongjoong believes his love for socializing will one day help bring humans and vampires together

Wooyoung has no official role within the night class, but helps where he can

He maintains an upbeat atmosphere within the class along with Mingi

He often gets on the other vampires’ nerves, especially Seonghwa

He loves to cause mischief and naturally Seonghwa is the victim more often than not

Yeosang is a common target as well, but he remains aloof to his friend’s shenanigans

Wooyoung learned very quickly on to never pull anything on Hongjoong, he was scolded by the elder vampire so bad that he refused to leave his dorm room for a week

He’s always with San, and secretly loves it when Yeosang makes jests about them being a “couple”

Wooyoung often attempts to sneak around the day class dorms, just to take a peek, but Jongho always catches him

He takes blood pills regularly

Jongho; Day watcher/enforcer for the night class; hunter; level B/aristocratic vampire

Jongho has a reputation amongst the vampire realm of being a champion hunter

His strength knows very few rivals despite him being a fairly young vampire

Was commissioned by the Council centuries ago to be a hunter

Jongho mainly hunts level D vampires now, especially after enrolling at the university

But he used to hunt vampire hunters - humans who specialize in eliminating vampires of all levels

Jongho’s strength is normally enough of a deterrent to keep night class students from pulling anything stupid

Though Wooyoung often pushes his luck

With Yunho, the night class section of the campus is secure

Isn’t exactly onboard with Hongjoong and Headmaster’s ideals

He sees humans as lesser than

But Hongjoong is working with him, and slowly Jongho is beginning to reform

He may be the youngest, but everyone (even Hongjoong) is somewhat intimidated by him

The Day Class

Reader; Night watcher/enforcer for the day class; president of the women’s dormitory; human

When you were young, you were out with your family one evening

You were attacked by a strange man

He killed your parents right before your eyes

Before he could harm you, someone rescued you

Your savior had the same glowing eyes as the man who killed your parents, but for some reason, you trusted him

He was so kind to you, and even brought you to someone who could take care of you

You don’t remember him in the years to come, save for his glowing eyes

But as the years pass, you dream of his eyes, wondering if you’ll ever find him one day

The academy’s Headmaster raises you as his own, and naturally when it came time for you to attend university, you chose to attend Cross Academy

You take your role as dorm president seriously

And you never miss a shift as night watcher

With all your responsibilities, you don’t have much free time

But late at night while you rest, you ponder about the night class

Your father never tells you anything when you ask

Something tells you there’s more to it all, more to the story

Fortunately, or maybe not so fortunately, you find out the mystery soon enough

#ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez vampire au #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

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Change of Heart ( TaehyungxOC) (Chapter 6)

Pairing : Taehyung x OC Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4/ Chapter 5

[ Summary :

Times are changing.

After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all…..

He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first. ]

Warnings : Get ready for the unsexiest sex in the history of sex. werewolf sex, knotting etc

You can completely skip this chapter if it makes you uncomfortable .

Literally nothing happens except that they mate.

Chapter 6

“Luna is staying with Jimin for a week. Jimin’s sister and her kids are home so he’s sure she’ll be fine.” Taehyung said, when I asked him about the young girl.

I nodded, slightly disappointed because I loved her and was looking forward to seeing her.

Although I suppose he probably didn’t want her to be around when he was doing....well whatever it was that he intended to do to me. I felt my pulse raise, the first tendrils of fear and panic beginning to weave through my veins.

“You look terrified.” Taehyung commented mildly, fingers curled gently around my elbow as he led me to where his car was parked. I swallowed.

“I am terrified.” I pointed out.” I have no idea what I just agreed to.”

Taehyung hummed, fumbling with his car key and a second later the lights in a swanky black car , a little bit ahead of us, flashed with a familiar beep. Taehyung’s car looked as expensive as it probably was, black and sleek .

“Is this the car you choose anytime you’re seducing unwilling humans?” I teased.

I stared at the glossy metallic finish, the swanky lights that lit up along the car’s sharp and beautiful lines and my eyes caught the small exquisitely detailed silver wolf, carefully mounted on the bonnet.

“Hmm....no one has been unwilling , so far.” Taehyung’s eyes danced with mischief.

I rolled my eyes at that, handing over my carry-all bag when he held his hand out for it.

“This isn’t what I would have chosen for myself.” He moved to open the boot space, lifting the small suitcase I’d packed and stowing it inside carefully.

I stared at him wondering what he was talking about.

“Someone like you...for a mate.” He pointed out and I wondered if he even heard the insult .

“Someone like me for the rest of your life?” I gave him a dry smile.

He closed the boot sharply, the sound making me jump a little.

His gaze was intense, lush lips twisted in a frown.

“A human ...for the rest of my life.” He corrected. I felt a pang of hurt at that. It was somehow worse, knowing that I was just interchangeable with every other human of his acquaintance . He moved closer to me, reaching past me to touch the sensor on his key to the door.

The door opened when he touched the handle, arms brushing my body as he leaned in close to me and I flinched back instinctively..

He gave me a look.

“Sorry...I’m just a little on edge.”

He sighed.

“I won’t hurt you.” His voice was steady and firm , his gaze calm and soothing as he stared at me and for the millionth time, I found myself utterly enthralled by his beauty. The perfect , sharp as a blade jawline, flawless skin and sharp, bewitching eyes.

“I think.... you know that’s a lie.” I smiled a little. He had the good grace to look a little contrite. He stepped back a bit to give me space to get in.

“It’s not a lie.”

I tilted my head and stared at him.

“Really? You’re telling me a human mating a wolf isn’t going to do a number on the human? ”

Taehyung frowned, thick eyebrows furrowing.

“It’s not going to leave any permanent damage.”

I let out a slightly strangled laugh.

“How comforting!”

Taehyung shrugged.

“ It is how it is. Mating is..... an ancient ritual. Something that we’ve been doing for centuries. At the heart of it, it is something animalistic and feral because it isn’t the human part of me that’s going to be involved. And my wolf isn’t familiar with being gentle. I can’t promise he won’t hurt you but I can promise that I will help fix what he breaks.”

What he breaks, I thought with a slightly hysterical flash of trepidation. His wolf was going to break ....what exactly?

He must’ve caught the look on my face.

“I think I could have worded that better.” He muttered.

My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth.

“I’m just wondering if perhaps , a week from now, I’m going to prefer being shot in the shoulder, to having sex with you.” I croaked out.

His lips quirked at that.

“Not unless being shot in the shoulder gave you multiple orgasms.....no.” His eyes flashed red, boring holes into mine and my lips parted in a soft gasp.

Arousal shot straight through my center, hot and heavy and I felt the blood rush to my face so abruptly that I was momentarily lightheaded. Feeling a bit like there was steam gushing out of my ears, I dropped my gaze away from him, down to his knees and then turned away, face flaming.

I moved to the open door, ready to climb in hide but Taehyung moved quickly, gripping my arm and pulling me around till I crashed into his chest.

“Tae-” I broke off when he reached out to gently cup my face, thumb brushing across my lower lip in a gentle caress.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered, smiling gently, “ I find you incredibly desirable and I intend to show you that when you’re in my bed. The fact that my wolf also approves of you will only make the whole thing more enjoyable for you. Trust me, I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Certain that I was probably the same shade as a ripe tomato, I yanked my hand away from him, turning around and stumbling to the door. I got into the car quickly, slamming the door shut. I could hear him chuckling lightly outside as he finished putting away the rest of my bags.

I tugged on the seatbelt with shaky fingers, trying not to overthink. I felt torn, confused. Like he was toying with me. He was so carefully vague about what he wanted and what he felt , it was impossible to understand him. I watched the seat belt click into place and the sat back to stare straight ahead.

The driver’s door opened and Taehyung climbed in, powering the vehicle and slipping his belt on in one smooth move before letting his fingers play across the backlit dashboard. Soft music began crooning through the speakers and he carefully adjust the mirrors manually before gripping the steering wheel and carefully easing the care out of the parking lot.

“We’ll pick up a few supplies on the way.” He commented mildly.

“Supplies?”

“Medical supplies.”

I felt my pulse jump again.

“I’m beginning to regret this immensely.” I whispered, fingers digging into my thigh as I willed myself to not scream.

Taehyung turned to give me a look.

“you do know, I’d have to bite you, right?”

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“I...you... what?!”

Taehyung groaned.

“please don’t freak out. “ H’s voice deepened, probably in an attempt to be soothing, “ It’s just a small bite. It won’t be that deep or anything but it will leave a mark. It’s supposed to. Kind of a sign that you’re mated.”

I stared at him , dread pooling in the pit of my stomach and making me feel mildly nauseous.

“Would it.. Would i... ?” I couldn’t even finish it.

Taehyung looked confused for a second and then his face went completely blank.

“No.” He said shortly.

“No, I -?”

“No, you won’t turn into a fucking werewolf, Jesus Christ” He snapped furiously,” Do you really think I’m gonna turn you into a were without your fucking consent? “

I felt myself sinking back into the plush leather seat in the face of his anger.

The air was heavy with a tense silence for a few minutes and then he sighed loudly, breath leaving him in an exhale.

“I’m.... I’m sorry. I know this is frightening for you and I’m grateful that you’re here. I want... Fuck. I want to make this... good for you. And if not good at least ...bearable. “

I stared down at my shoes.

“I’m just... I feel scared because I don’t know what I’m walking into.”

I looked up when the car slowed down and I noticed he was pulling into the parking lot of an all night mart of some kind. I watched as he carefully pulled in between two smaller cars .

“You wanna come in with me? Or would you rather wait here?” He asked casually.

“I’ll...I’ll stay here.”

He hummed and kept the air conditioner and the music running , moving out of the car . I watched him leave , his tall suave figure earning him dazzled looks from the people in the parking lot.

I watched as nearly every single woman in the place ogled him, taking in the perfectly tailored slacks, the silk shirt and his striking good looks. He looked a little rakish today, having run a hand through his hair earlier and even from a distance, there was no doubting that he was one of the most gorgeous men in the entire country.

And no one in their right mind would think he was anything but an alpha, I thought balefully, watching the way he stalked across the tarmac, his gait predatory and focused. People stepped out of his way instinctively. No one met his gaze head on and I knew exactly why.

Staring at Taehyung was like staring down an apex predator.

Even the dumbest of men wouldn’t be dumb enough to provoke someone who looked like that.

i caught my own reflection in the mirror and felt myself shrink in on myself.

I wasn’t ugly.

Far from it.

I could even be beautiful if I had a couple of hours and access to some good beauty products. But I wasn’t werewolf level beautiful. I couldn’t think of a single quality in me that would qualify me to be Kim Taehyung’s significant other. I remembered the model he had been dating, Ji hyun. She had been so beautiful. Tall and lissome with perfectly sculpted features.

in what world could I compete with that?

And What about.... the emotional connection?

I groaned at the very though of it.

Love was such an abstract thing to define but I wasn’t a cynic. I could imagine myself being in love with Taehyung, falling for him and in fact, I was pretty sure that I was already half way there already.

I had wanted him to be interested in me when he had asked me to look after Luna. Had wanted that hot and heavy gaze on me, had wanted him to touch me, with less than pure intentions. But it had still been just a crush, albeit a big one.

Back then, I had convinced myself to forget about it because of the sheer impossibility of it ever happening. But now, my traitorous heart was beginning to whisper little phrases of hope at me.

What if he likes you too....

What if he fell in love with you too....

I had to tamp down that voice before it grew any louder, I thought miserably. Did I not remember how he had looked, when he’d asked me to come with him? Like he was being held at gunpoint?

The door clicked open again and I blinked. Taehyung opened the rear door and tossed a few bags on the seat there before the slamming the door shut and climbing in next to me.

“I’ve asked the house keeper to stock the pantry and get the rooms cleaned. The staff won’t be around for a week so I would have to make sure it doesn’t get too filthy.”

“I can help... to cook and clean.” I said quickly.

He hesitated before smirking a little.

There was something feral in the smile, something lewd and suggestive and I felt myself blushing although I had no idea why.

“What? Why are you looking at me that way....”

He shrugged.

“I just think its cute that you think that.”

I frowned, not at all sure what he was implying.

“What does that even mean? What am I thinking that’s so ridiculous.?”

“It cute that you think that you can still move around after getting fucked by an alpha werewolf on his rut. “ His eyes fairly danced with amusement and I felt my jaw drop.

“You- That's- “ I was momentarily incoherent with how much his words had scrambled my brain, “ ... ...How dare you!” I finished in a hash whisper.

He laughed out loud at that.

“I’m supposed to be selling this whole mating thing to you . I think I’m doing a bad job of it.” He shook his head, before starting the engine again.

I didn’t reply, my cheeks hurting from the effort it took not to scream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I held the bags carefully, while a couple of young men carried over my suitcases into the elevator. Taehyung was leaning on the counter at the reception desk and the girl behind the desk was making moon-eyes at him.

"Mr. Kim, we’ve already spoken to the other residents. The penthouse suit if off limits for the rest of the week as you requested. Your daughter’s nanny was here earlier and she said she’ll bring Luna back when you ask her to.”

Taehyung nodded.

“Excellent. This is my fiance, Yoon Mi Rae.” He said casually and I flushed at the phrase.

“Oh, fiance?” The woman made no effort to hide the disappointment and disbelief on her face. I smiled weakly.

“Yes. Surprised?” He chuckled and I frowned when the girl laughed too.

“Never thought you would go for a human, Tae.” She tilted her head .

The nickname surprised me. So they were close, then?

“ Sometimes life surprises you that way.”

I sighed, turning away at the words. I tamped down the urge to yell at him that I didn’t particularly savor the thought of being mated to him either. That given a choice I would rather be with a man who actually wanted me.

But that wasn’t why I had agreed to this whole thing was it? Taehyung’s cause was bigger than both of us. My father was doing something illegal and damaging and he had to be stopped.

That was what this was about.

If I lost sight of that bigger picture and focused on the little things, then I would likely be miserable for a long long time.

Little things like the fact that Taehyung had absolute no interest in falling in love with a human.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The apartment was spacious and decorated s tastefully that I couldn’t help but stop and stare. It was very obvious that Taehyung had painstakingly picked the decor out himself. A few Van Gogh paintings hung on one of the walls and the entire living space was done in muted tones of beige and also colors of rich mahogany brown with lush red and maroon trinkets for relief.

Taehyung directed the med to leave the suitcases in the master bedroom and then once they left, he carefully closed the door behind them.

I heard the sound of the lock clicking in place and slowly, the dread from earlier returned.

“Do you drink?” Taehyung asked casually, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it on the couch., I watched him move to the massive fridge in the kitchen, and felt my lips trembling a bit.

“Just- Just water.” I said softly.

He grabbed a few bottles of water and carefully poured me a glass. He looked up then and his gaze caught mine.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, I merely stared back.

“Are you hungry?” He asked gently.

I shook my head.

He nodded, stepping out from behind the counter and walking over , holding out the glass of water. I took it from him cautiously and took a sip.

“We need to talk about this. I don’t... I don’t want you to be blindsided by anything that happens tomorrow. “

Tomorrow.

“Okay. I’m listening. “ I took a few more sips of the water and he carefully took the glass from me.

I moved to sit on the couch but he stopped me with a hand to my arm.

“Do you dance?” He said casually.

I blinked.

“Dance?”

He smiled and snapped his fingers a couple of times.

I gasped when the lights in the living space dimmed down not turning off entirely but bathing the entire room in hues of gold . The light made him look ten times more enthralling and the soft smile on his face made me want to weep. If I had been half in love earlier, I’d certainly fallen the entire way down in that damned smile.

“I think you should get used to my body first.” He smiled and stepped closer, gently wrapping one arm around my waist before grabbing my wrist and guiding it to his shoulder. I curled my fingers tentatively, feeling my pulse pound at the smoothness of the silk and the underlying strength of his muscles. I brushed my fingers gently against his shoulder blades, stroking down to his pecs and stopping when my palm rested right over his heart.

“You like that?” He smiled, “ Because I certainly do” and there was no hint of teasing there, just genuine pleasure and in the face of such honestly, I couldn’t help but blush.

“You’re.... big.” I finished , feeling my face flame.

He nodded.

“I am. Everywhere. its probably going to be a bit of a problem for you later.” He smiled and pulled a small square remote from his pocket.

Music began to spill into the air from the speakers and I laughed at the song.

“ I was made for loving you” Tori Kelly’s beautiful voice crooned and I shook my head.

“You are good at this, Alpha Kim.” I said softly. “Is this the part where your conquests begin taking off their clothes?”

He hummed and began to move, one hand curving around my waist and the other lightly resting on my back. I swayed with him, enjoying the gentle intimacy.

“I actually prefer doing that myself.” He smirked and I nodded, relaxing a bit. Taehyung was likeable, not an asshole by any stretch of the imagination and surprisingly humble considering the kind of wealth he had at his disposal.

I liked him deeply and while it was obvious he thought he had to handle me like fine china, the truth was I wasn’t even half as scared as I ought to have been.

“You’re pretty calm now. You were..... very would up earlier.” I pointed out.

He hummed, his fingers tracing up and down my back before resting at the base of my spine, thumb gentle as it stroked my skin through the fabric of my dress.

“I can control it easier because you’re right here. My wolf is calm because you’re in my arms. And my rut probably won’t start till I’m ... well , for a few hours at least. “

I nodded.

“How do you know its starting?” I asked, curious.

He gave me a grin.

“Oh trust me you’ll know.” He muttered, pulling me slightly closer till I was pressed right up against his body, hips pressing into me gently. I felt the hard press of his erection and even with the layers of fabric between us I could tell how well endowed he was and I stilled, backing away a little.

“I’m.... Sorry, I...” I whispered.

But he grabbed my wrists, tugging me back gently.

“Don’t apologize. Its alright. You need to get used to me. Like this, I can watch how you react and back off when I want but later...I may not be that coherent. I just want you be comfortable before we start anything. “ He said softly, fingers fluttering down to link with mine.

“Are you saying you won’t stop if i ask you to?”

Taehyung hesitated.

“No...if you’re actually hurting or in danger , I’ll know and I will stop. But my wolf probably won’t stop if its just you getting cold feet and you aren’t in any real danger from me. “

I looked away, not feeling very reassured. The bigger picture, I reminded myself. I wasn’t here for a good time. I was here because he needed me and not the other way around.

Taehyung took my silence for disapproval and gently touched my face, eyes wide with apology.

“I’m sorry.” He said calmly, “ Wolves have....different moral codes and that's probably why its incredibly rare for a wolf to mate with a human.”

“What do you think happened with us?” I asked him, “ You obviously need a were in your life. So why did your wolf pick me?”

He didn’t reply.

“Is this permanent?”

“For me, yes. For you, no.”

“What does that mean?”

“When you leave here , you can go back to your old life. You can probably meet another guy and get married if you want. I however would not be able to have another relationship...”

I felt my jaw drop.

“That’s....” i began but he shook his head.

“It’s alright. I’m not a huge fan of relationships. I have my work and Luna. My life is complete as is.”

There was nothing much to say to that.

“You wanna go to bed now?” He asked quietly .

I smiled at how nervous he looked.

“Lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung’s bedroom was almost surgical suite clean and also incredibly huge. The large four poster bed had huge ornate frames and I felt my eyes redden when I saw the handcuffs neatly cuffed to the lowest rung.

Taehyung followed my gaze and smiled.

“Ah. Thats just a precaution.”

“you want to put me in handcuffs?” i blurted out and he laughed.

“No...I’ll be the one in the handcuffs. When I’m knotting you, my claws are going to pop and I don’t want to hurt you accidentally. The handcuffs will make sure that my hands stay off you.”

“Okay.... “

He moved around the room, casually fixing the lights , turning most of them off and leaving only a couple of lamps near the bed on.

“Would you like to shower?” He prompted. “ I bought... well, there's a nightgown in the bathroom that you could wear. Only if you want to .... No pressure.”

Nightgown?

I nodded and moved to the attached bath .

“the towels are in the cupboard.” He called out behind me when I closed the door.

I stared around at the bathroom which was almost as large as the living space. A bathtub stood in the corner and it looked large enough to hold three people comfortably. A shower stall stood on the left and I quickly stripped out of my clothes and moved to the shower.

The buttons took a little time for me to figure them out but the hot water on my body was a welcome relief. The water helped loosen my muscles and the slight twinge in my shoulder was almost fully gone.

I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and noticed the white box , tied together with a satin ribbon. I opened it carefully half expecting something scandalous.

It wasn’t.

I pulled out the plain white cotton nightgown, and it looked especially fragile.

Confused but willing to indulge him, I slipped it on quickly, brushing my teeth and fluffing my hair before stepping out.

Taehyung was half naked on the bed and I froze near the bathroom. He was wearing just a pair of boxers which did nothing to hide his arousal.

“You alright , sweetheart?” He said gently and the nickname made my teeth hurt.

“Umm...yeah. So...we’re just doing this then?”

“I think its starting...” He said tiredly.

I startled.

“You said... I thought it was tomorrow..?”

“Guess the guy doesn’t wanna wait that long.” Taehyung muttered tiredly and his eyes flashed red.

But it didn’t fade back to chestnut brown, the way it usually did.

Instead the irises stayed red, like a ruby , glinting across the distance between us as he stared me down. .

I could feel the hysteric fear beginning to build and I fought to keep it down. It was okay... He was an Alpha and so his eyes flashed red... that’s all. Jungkook’s eyes had flashed red plenty of times when we were together.

“Come here.” He patted his lap.

“Okay. “ I squeaked.

Feet leaden, I walked over to the bed , climbing over carefully and then scooting across the clean white sheets to reach him. i stayed kneeling near him.

He was staring at me expectantly.

“Oh, you want me to sit there?” I pointed at his lap.

He looked amused.

“If it isn’t too much of a bother.” He said primly.

Stop acting like its your first time.

I yelled at myself internally before throwing one leg over his thighs, raising myself up to hover over him. Taehyung grabbed the back of my thighs. gripping me hard through the flimsy night gown and yanked me forward till I was seated right on his hardness.

I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself, staring down into his red eyes as he smiled, a slow calculating grin.

"You're beautiful. I had more than my fair share of dirty dreams about you when we first met." He confessed softly, and I felt pleasure bloom inside me at the shallow compliment. Whatever, no compliment was bad if it came from a guy like Taehyung.

“I’m sure anyone who meets you has the same compulsion,” I pointed out and he chuckled.

“I wanted to talk to you about tonight. It isn’t because I want to scare you but because I don’t want to blindside you when it happens. Humans aren’t built to take a knot. They just aren’t. I’m going to go out on a limb and say you haven’t tried anything ....along those lines before?” He asked carefully.

I shook my head.

“The only were I’ve slept with is Jungkook and he never-”

Taehyung snarled, so sudden and uncalled for that I nearly toppled over. A ripping sound near my waist made me balk, and I stared down at my side, where one incredibly sharp claw had popped , tearing cleanly through the fabric of the nightgown.

“fuck... I’m sorry... Are you okay?” He whispered urgently, the claw retracting and I could only cling to him, shaking a bit.

“Um....” I stared at him and there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead like he’d run a mile. I realized he was struggling to control his wolf, eyes flashing red intermittently. “ Are you alright, Tae?” I asked him, pressing a palm to his chest . He grabbed my wrist before pressing a kiss to the inside of it.

Taehyung gave me a strangled smile.

“Perhaps, you shouldn’t mention other wolves you’ve slept with when you’re with me,” He suggested and I felt my head swim.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ve always thought possessiveness is a pathetic thing to feel for someone but unfortunately as an alpha it pretty much defines my wolf.” He grimaced.

I reached out, carefully tracing my thumb across his forehead, dabbing up a bit of the sweat gathered there before wiping it on my gown.

“I’m sure you have other redeeming qualities.” I shrugged , grinning and he smiled in return, hands coming up to gently cup my face leading me down for a soft kiss.

The pillowy softness of his lips completely threw me off and I moaned into the kiss, one arm hooking around his neck so I could kiss him better. He tasted heady and minty and altogether delicious, tongue tracing the seam of my lips before slipping in.

There was something incredibly gentle about how he kissed, so at odds with how he behaved when he let his wolf take over and the dichotomy of it was so fascinating to me.

Kim Taehyung with his soft subtly seductive words, his gentle touches and patient kisses was also Alpha Kim, the wolf with ruby red eyes, blood lust and violence in his gaze when he was threatened.

When he pulled back I was panting and almost in a trance.

“I wanted to help you get through tonight without being too hurt. Is that okay?”

I gave him a bemused smile.

“No, I’d rather you put me through immense pain.” I said drily.

His eyes narrowed at the sarcasm, and he lightly spanked my thigh. I flinched at the sharp pain, gone before I could fully process it but the delicious heat from the impact stayed, thrumming under my skin.

“Vixen.” He growled.

I quieted down, watching him expectantly.

“Why don’t you lie down?” He gave my hips a small squeeze.

I quickly climbed off him, sinking into the mattress and carefully lying down .

“I’ll be back. Give me a second.”

I watched as he carefully climbed off the bed , my gaze drawn to his naked back, the strong width of his shoulders and the way it tapered to his waist. The silk of his boxers left nothing to the imagination and I had to look away, gripping the sheets and breathing evenly through my nose just to curb the urge to whimper.

Muscle memory is a hell of a thing, I thought desperately, feeling my thighs begin to tingle. Naked man, dim lighting and bed equaled sex in my mind and my body was responding easily to the atmosphere and Taehyung’s gorgeous body was just an added bonus.

He grabbed something from the cupboard and a bottle from the dresser and I stared, curious as he made his way over.

“Have you ever dabbled with ....bdsm?” He asked casually , tossing the bottle up and catching it easily. I stared at his long , long fingers, the way they looked, gripping the surface.

I felt myself flush from the top of my head all the way down to the soles of my feet.

“Uh... A couple of times. I was really young.” I said hastily. “ He was...uh..well he was older and...”

“Don’t worry about it. I just didn’t want you to get scared. You’ve been in subspace then?” He was making his way over and I could feel nervousness build. It took a me a second to process what he’d just asked.

I hesitated.

“It... I was too scared to fully let go..” I admitted. “ I fall easily and it terrified me because I didn’t fully trust him .”

Taehyung hummed, moving closer to me and carefully placing a strip of black cloth on the pillow next to my head. He dropped the bottle on the mattress and knelt on the edge, next to me, stroking the hair back from my face and smiling.

“I understand. Do you feel that way with me, too? If you do, we can think of some other way to do this. “

I felt my eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch of his fingers.

“I trust you.” I said softly.

He nodded.

“It’s nothing intense , I swear. I just want to blindfold you. And then maybe a little bit of impact play...i noticed you liked that....” His lips quirked.

I blushed , nodding. He picked up the dark strip of cloth, stretched it between his fingers, testing the give of the material.

“The blindfold is going to help keep you grounded. No distractions, yeah? I want you to follow my voice and feel my touch, don’t think about anything else ....is that clear?”

I nodded.

“Words, angel.” He said gently.

My toes curled at the endearment.

“Uh... Yes.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected gently.

I felt my body run hot and cold all at once, lips parting and throat going dry.

“S-Sorry?”

Taehyung chuckled gently and I jumped when he gently placed the blindfold over my eyes, the world dissolving in black before me as he carefully tied the strip behind .

Once it was secured, I felt the gentle touch of his finger across my cheeks.

“It’s not just about you tonight, is it, pet?” His voice had dipped lower, the drawl more pronounced. “ Don’t you think I deserve to feel good too?”

I almost sat up , nervous and jittery because I couldn’t see him and I startled when cool hands gripped my waist and shoulder, holding me down.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

I swallowed.

“Nothing.. I... I’m sorry. “

“Colour?”

I blanked out for a second.

“Red for stop, yellow if you want me to slow down and green if you’re okay to continue, angel.” He said gently.

I nodded again.

“Words, angel. I need you to use your words at all times.”

“Yes...” I whispered.

“Yes?” He prompted.

“Yes sir.” I answered quietly.

“Good girl.” He whispered and I felt the light touch of his lips against mine. I felt my breathing even out at the gentle caress. Fingers fluttered over my hand and I felt him gently loosen my grip on the sheets.

He gripped my wrist gently and moved it over my shoulder.

“I want your hand over your shoulder at all times. Can you do that for me? If you can’t , I can restrain them for you.”

I was already moving them down almost unconsciously. He hummed, pulling my wrist back up and I flushed. I wasn’t going to be able to do that.

“Please ..tie them up for me.” I whispered.

He didn’t reply and I felt him move away , my body suddenly cold from his absence , and I took deep steadying breaths. I felt myself relaxing against the covers, lips parting as I stopped trying to hold my hands up, just letting them rest on the pillows , limbs loose.

The touch of something silky to my wrists, made me jump, but fingers pressed my hips, stroking gently.

“Shush....its okay , baby. Let me just take care of you, yeah?” Taehyung’s voice came from right near my ear and I exhaled.

“Yes sir.” I whispered and he laughed softly, the sound mellifluous against my lobe.

“Now you’re learning. ” He pressed another kiss to the corner of my mouth, lips slightly wet and forceful as he breathed , “ Good girl.” and I felt the words all over me, like euphoria in my veins, spreading to every part of me.

It was blissful, the way warmth spread through me, my limbs going lax as I felt him carefully tie my wrists to the bed post, the thought if tugging on them didn’t even cross my mind.

All I wanted to do was to stay here forever, my head clear and thoughts practically nonexistent. It was like nothing existed, except for the endless dark I was in and the touch of his fingers on me. The music of his voice as he whispered praise against my skin.

I felt bereft when he moved away but he was back before I could fully miss him.

“I’m going to touch you baby.....Going to make you feel good. Is that okay?”

“Yes sir.”

“Perfect.”

I heard the pop of a bottle opening.

I felt the bed dip as he climbed on, kneeling near my legs.

A few seconds later, fingers lightly gripped my ankle, warm and smooth. lifting my foot up and placing it on his lap.

My lips parted in a filthy moan when he dug his fingertips into my ankle, smoothing out the skin and pain blossomed where he squeezed, the muscles protesting as he gently massaged the knots away.

“I’m going to get familiar with your body first.... wanna know what makes you feel good.”

“Okay Tae....” I breathed out.

A sharp spank on my thigh made me jolt in surprise and I gasped, heat licking its way up my leg and making me clench my thighs together . The pain was sharp and stinging and it made my eyes water just a bit.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, is it pet?” He sounded annoyed and I felt myself scrambling to apologize.

“No..I’m sorry ... sir.. I’m...”

“I’m being very patient with you , pet. Next time, I won’t stop with one.”

I nodded before quickly remembering.

“Yes sir.”

He hummed and went back to massaging my feet, first one then the other. I relaxed against the pillows, feeling my eyes grow heavy as he worked his magic on me and time became insignificant.

I didn’t know how long I’d laid there and it was only when his hands moved up, past my knee, across my thighs and then closer my inner thighs that I began to come to myself.

“Can I take your panties off baby....” He whispered, voice hoarse.

I was breathing through my mouth, slightly dizzy.

“Yes, sir.” I whispered. Fingers hooked on the edged of the fabric, tugging my underwear down and off me swiftly. Somehow everything inside me shifted when I felt him against my skin. The soothing pleasure disappeared, replaced by apprehension .

“Beautiful .” He whispered and I swallowed, nervous and scared.

I opened my mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come.

“What’s wrong angel? You alright?” He asked urgently.

I swallowed again.

“I’m...Sir... I... what are you... I want...” I couldn’t get my thoughts in order and the panic rose again.

“Its okay baby... tell me what’s wrong?” He whispered gently, and I bit my lips.

“Red.... I... I’m not... I can’t ....”

He moved away at once and a second later, the blindfold came off . i blinked at the dim light and Taehyung was kneeling right next to me, worry clouding his eyes .

“You okay?” He whispered.

“Can you ....on top of me? I’m just.. I feel so cold.” I whispered.

Taehyung smiled, wide before nodding.

“That’s fine. Anything for you...”

The next second, I felt him move on top of me, hot and warm, heavy and firm and solid as he pressed into me. I wanted to touch him, to reach out and grip him and anchor myself because I felt like I was about to float away.

“Should I take the restraints' off?, “ Taehyung read my mind so swiftly , it left me reeling. “ Do you wanna touch me?” He whispered and I nodded.

“Okay... as you wish baby...we’re doing it your way... okay?”

“Okay...sir.”

“You can call me Tae....” He said warmly and I felt myself relax a bit more. He pulled on the restraints quickly and my wrists dropped to the bed t once, my shoulder beginning to throb a little but even the pain was muted, barely there.

He massaged my wrists gently, pressed a kiss to them and I felt affection bloom inside me along with regret.

“I’m sorry...” I whispered.

Taehyung glanced at me in surprise and shook his head.

The first time isn’t going to be perfect. It happens.” He kissed me again, gently but firmly, fingers fluttering down my waist .

“First time?” I grinned. “ Wow I didn’t know I was your first, Alpha Kim.”

“First time with each other , brat.” He lightly spanked my hips and I yelped.

“I’m beginning to think, this whole spanking thing is more for you, than me...” I wrinkled my nose.

Taehyung grinned.

“I prefer paddles and whips actually. “ He said coolly and I felt my heart leap to my throat.

“I-”

“Don’t worry... only with absolutely willing partners.” He winked.

And then he groaned, eyes flashing red.

“Fuck....” He groaned.

“What’s wrong...?” I whispered, worried.

“Can I touch you... I think... It’s ... My wolf... “ He muttered and I smiled wrapping both arms around his next and drawing him down for a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Is this okay....? Fuck...” Taehyung grunted and I keened as his fingers slipped in deeper, stroking and searching and I blinked away tears, face pressed into the pillow as I lay face down on the bed. Taehyung was on me, finger fucking me so well that I’d already cum twice and now my limbs weren’t functioning at all.

“Okay...just please....” I groaned when another finger traced my entrance and a sob got wrenched out of me when he dipped it in lightly.

“Doing so well for me baby, taking my fingers so well... Can’t wait to see you wrapped around my knot....gonna claim you and fuck you so well, my pretty , pretty pet...” He pushed the fourth finger in and the stretch made me wail.

Taehyung had a filthy , filthy mouth and everything he said made me want to cry. The stretch of four fingers was too much and I had to grit my teeth, breathe through my mouth just to stay in my senses. I took deep shuddering breaths, willing myself not to start sobbing.

“I’m so sorry... “ He kept apologizing, alternating the push and pull of his fingers with wet, messy kisses along my shoulder. I groaned , eyes heavy as I tried to stay conscious.

“..’s too much...” I slurred, my eyes wet with tears and lashes damp.

“Just a bit more... I don’t wanna hurt you when I... when we ... please baby...just hold on a little yeah...” Taehyung sounded desperate.

I sobbed out in protest when his fingers went in deeper, cleaving my insides and trying to make room where there was none. It went on for a few minutes and then his thumb was brushing my clit, lightly , barely a brush and I was cumming again, clamping around his fingers so hard that I felt like I was crumbling on the inside.

“Okay.... “ Taehyung kept his fingers inside me, soothing me through the tremors., “ I think... It’s okay... I think this should work.” He pressed one last kiss to my shoulder and I made to turn over but he held my shoulders down.

“Let’s do it like this, angel.... It’ll hurt less.” He whispered and then he was pulling his fingers out , spreading my thighs apart so he could lie in between and I whimpered at the emptiness, feeling like I’d stepped right off a cliff , but before I could hit bottom and shatter, he was on me, grounding me, gripping me tight as he pressed his hardness against me.

“You ready?” He whispered.

I managed a weak nod and a second later he pushed in .

It felt a little like being stabbed straight through, only a million times more pleasurable.

And then he was gripping my waist, lifting me up and moving me till I was on all fours, staring at the rungs of his four poster bed. He moved his hips gently, pulling out just a bit before pushing back in and I felt my eyes roll back in my head.

He was so fucking big even the four fingers felt like too little of a stretch.

His hands came around to grasp the lower rung of the bed.

“Put the handcuffs on me .” He said from behind me and I exhaled harshly, trying not to collapse into the bed as I fumbled with the metal restraints. My head felt heavy, my body thrumming with adrenaline and exhaustion and I could feel the messy wetness between my thighs, dripping down the length of my legs and pooling on the soft white sheets.

When the handcuffs had locked both his wrists in place he shuddered behind me. He was so big inside me that I couldn’t even clench down on him, my inner walls stretched so wide around him that I felt like I was inch away from coming apart.

“We’re doing this... any last wishes?”

I smiled despite myself , shaking my head.

“Is it too late to say I don’t put out on the first date?” I choked out and his laughter, warm and inviting flooded my senses, a better aphrodisiac than the hour long foreplay he’d subjected me to.

“Is it too early to say that I want to do this to you, everyday for the rest of our lives.” He whispered and I felt my eyes widen in shock, the confession so unexpected that I actually nearly pulled away from him.

But before I could fully relish what I’d just heard, he was gripping the bed hard and pulling out before shoving right back in.

“Oh, God...” I choked out as he fucked into me, each thrust carefully sharp and strong. He had insane control over his hips, the steady staccato of his body hitting the back of my thigh, loud and incessant in the quiet darkness.

“Touch yourself for me baby..... come on make yourself cum so I can make you mine...” He said harshly and I felt the warm wetness of his lips against my shoulder, kissing and leaving wet trails as he mouthed at the skin there.....and I slipped a finger between my legs , rubbing lightly at my clit , my body screaming in protest because I had long fallen over the edge of overstimulation and this was just too much , too fast now. But I kept my eyes closed, listening to his voice as I gently rubbed circles on the swollen nub at my entrance and when I felt my orgasm hit, my eyes flew open.

“Tae, I’m....” I began , raising my head as I began to clamp down on him . My eyes widened as the hands in front of me transformed, claws popping out from each finger , razor sharp and deadly.

I closed my eyes in terror, a scream getting torn out of me just as Taehyung growled behind me, pushing hard inside me, going deeper than I thought was even possible. The lips at my shoulder moved, pulling back and my eyes flew open in shock when twin pricks of pain bloomed on the junction between my neck and shoulder.

Fear broke through the adrenaline fueled mess of pleasure in my head and I whimpered when he sank his fangs into me, teeth breaking skin without any effort and the hot, warm wetness of my blood as it gushed out of the tear. as right.

Humans did not belong with wolves because this...this was just so effing painful.

And then before I could fully recover from the pain of the bite, I felt him shifting inside me. And then somehow he seemed to be getting bigger, inside me.

“I’m so sorry , baby.” Taehyung whispered, “ Can you get the handcuffs.?”

I pulled on the safety in the handcuff and he pulled his hands away, gripping my waist and lightly turning me over till I was on my side, panting as he stayed inside me . We lay there, staring at the side wall, him spooning me as he struggled to stay still inside me, because everytime he moved, I whimpered.

“Just a few minutes.... I... I can’t pull out for a few minutes.” He whispered, now licking away at the blood on the bite mark and I couldn’t bring myself to respond because it felt a little like I was being split into two.

“How... how much bigger are you going to get?” I choked out , vaguely aware that he was still cumming inside me that there was so much of it that it was beginning to drip out of me.

Taehyung didn’t reply and I closed my eyes.

The pain was building , now, steady and sure, slowly replacing the pleasure and I wondered briefly if I should have gotten drunk for this. But Taehyung had been very adamant about me being sober.

I flinched when he shifted a little.

“So that’s it then ? We’re werewolf married now?” I choked out.

Taehyung chuckled.

“Yes, we’re werewolf married.” He said gently and moved to touch my face but the movement jostled him inside me and I let out a low keen of pain. Taehyung froze.

“Does it hurt too bad?” he asked worriedly.

I grimaced.

“Not the most pleasant wedding I’ve been to.....But definitely prefer it to getting shot though.” I choked out and he laughed, stilling quickly when I whined at the movement.

“I’m sorry. Don’t worry...Once I can move, i’ll get you the pain killers and I’ll clean the bite mark too. It’s not too bad. Don’t think you’ll need stitches even. “

I blinked back tears as the pain intensified steadily.

I felt my eyes grow heavy , exhaustion slowly seeping in along with the pain.

“I think... I’m gonna pass out.” I whispered.

Taehyung kissed me gently.

“That’s probably your body offering you some respite. You should probably take it up on that offer. “ He whispered and I couldn’t even muster a smile.

Instead I closed my eyes and let the darkness wash over me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Did I really just write 7k of bad porn ? Why yes...yes I did.

Also poor taehyung, my baby really tried to make it good for her :’(

As always comments are love <3 Please show me more love <3 I’m needy.....

#taehyung smut #bts werewolf au #bts werewolf #taehyung werewolf au #bts fics #bts au #bts smut #taehyung fics #taehyung reactions

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oingo233 · 3 years

Note

Hiii! Could I request a ship for the Marauders era and golden trio era?? I go by she/her and I am straight. I'm 16 and I´m a Slytherin. im 5´3, i have curly brown hair and brown eyes. I am a Taurus. I love to paint, read, discover new music and going on little adventures with my friends or family. I´m quite calm but the minute someone says party i go feral lmao. I hope that´s okay. Thank youuuu <3

Hello @ftwert ! I’m so sorry this has taken me so long! But you sound absolutely wonderful and I’m very excited to ship you with...

Marauders Era:

I ship you with Regulus Black...

- He first saw you in the Slytherin common room. You had paint smudged across your nose and cheek, he watched with pure amusement and something close to awe as you itched your nose and left an even larger smudge of deep purple across the area. He stifled his laughter and tried to sneakily walk around you to get a peek of the canvas you were painting on. His curiosity to what you could have been painting was palpable. He craned his neck as he walked and completely missed the stack of books on the floor.

- He toppled face first and next thing he knew two soft hands were wrapped around his bicep and helping him up. He blushed a deep red, which you found extremely endearing. While he stuttered for a response you, yourself began to blush. “I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to wipe some purple paint off of his shirt. He looked down to take a better look and smiled, he shrugged.

- “S’ arlight. Purple is nice,” it was his attempt of flirting as he pointed to your face, but you missed it completely and flushed as you wiped at your face. He laughed now at the ridicoulsness of the moment and without thinking he brought his hand up to you cheek and caressed it softly, wiping at the paint to no avail. It was dry but he was reluctant to move his hand, or to move away at all. But atlas, he did. He stepped back and a tense silence fell over you two, but the tension was sweet and exciting. You two struck up conversation, at first it was awkward but then you two sat all night on the couch and talked and slowly he began to laugh more around you.

- You were painting the forbidden forest at twilight, he went with you the next night to get a live reference. He snuck out with you (he already knew he’d break several school rules to be with you, the feeling scared him) and sat next to you in comfortable silence as you painted.

- The next time you two snuck out to paint he brought a book and read it to you under the moonlight.

- The next time you snuck out you brought him a canvas too and taught him to paint. Being with you, whether reading or painting he felt the weight of the world, the burden of war, lift from his shoulder completely. He felt light and happy with you. He felt normal. And this change in his mood, and the frequency of his smiles and laughter around you did not go unnoticed by Sirius or anyone that knew Regulus in anyway.

- When you finished your painting of the forest, you gifted it to him for Christmas. It was one of the nicest things he felt like he owned, and tried not to cry as he hugged you in thanks.

- You two became best friends and inseparable. You pushed him in and out of his comfort zone and made him feel like he wasn’t alone anymore, whether it be through books or painting or even dragging him to the occasional party. Where he watched with amusement as you let loose of your usual calm and went crazy on the dance floor. You were an animal and a complete vision.

- On a lazy weekend you two would put on random records and lounge in his dorm. On some songs, Regulus would wordlessly take your hand and pull you into his chest for a long, slow dance. You could feel his heart racing, yet calm, against your palm, and his hot breath on your temple. Occasionally, even the feel of his soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. It was moments like this you doubted whether your friendship was truly platonic.

- When you had more space and were listening to records in the common room late at night he’d playfully pull you along in a waltz. It was moments like this you remember that he was part of the Black family and on the list of things he learned, dancing like a gentleman was one of them.

- You two always go on little adventures through the grounds, or after quitdditch games. Most of the times you had to convince and prod him but he would always have so much fun and escalate every adventure because he truly did have the same rebellious blood that Sirius has, it just shows differently. Mostly, this side is revealed when he is with you and feels free.

- It was on one of these little adventures that he confessed his love for you. You were cuddled into his chest while hiding from the groundkeeper, both of you trying to control your giggles. You heard the groundkeepers footsteps fade away and in the silence that followed Regulus held you close and tight. “I’m in love with you,” he said, he froze stiffly after the words tumbled out. You looked up at him to see that he was already staring at you with wide eyes, you broke out into the most dazzling smile and his hear leapt straight from his chest and into your hand. You kissed him. Lets just say you two spent a long time in that little room making out.

Lightning Era

I ship you with George Weasley...

- It was a scandalous love. Or that is what he likes to call it anyways, he likes to refer to Romeo and Juilet often because of the difference in houses. But he loved it, if anything he thought you were perfect and he also found the sneaking around very hot.

- He first saw you on the train one year, at the end of summer. You were reading alone and bobbing your head to music with a little smile. He was dying to know more about you, so later that day he snuck away from his brothers and found his way to you quite suddenly.

- Your chests collided and your book fell to the floor, he went to pick it up at the same time you did and you two bumped heads. Hard. You yelped and he mumbled a curse under his breath, rubbing his head with one hand, he held and inspected the book with the other. It was his favorite. He handed it back to you and very slowly walked you back to your cart as you two talked about the book and your favorite parts.

- When it was time to part he sweetly kissed your cheek and joked that he’d find you again if it was the last thing he’d ever do. He left you blushing madly and standing frozen for a bit. That night at dinner you felt his eyes burning into you, whenever you caught his gaze he both winked and fought a blush of his own. He then snuck away again to walk you back to your dorm, you found yourself sneaking away from your friends too, just so that you two would be alone.

- You two started to pass notes in class and the one time you got caught he took all the blame and got a short detention for it. You waited for him and you two snuck up the astronomy tower where he talked to you all about his family and friends and things he loved most and his worse fears and favorite bands and books. In return, you spoke of your own family and friends, dream job and deepest secrets. By the end of the night he became one of the people who knew you best, a realization that took you by surprise.

- You two snuck back through the halls, scared of getting caught past curfew but George used every trick in the book to keep you two in the clear. In the process you two rummaged through empty classrooms and stared at deserted paintings, searching the halls for their inhabitants and whoever found them first gets to dare the other to do something.

- Whenever George won he asked for a kiss on the cheek. Finally, he won on the last painting before you two parted. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear, you shivered at the feeling his his breath on your neck as he spoke. “I dare you... to kiss me like it is the last thing you’d ever do.”

- You stared up at him in shock and soon he grew almost nervous, but then you kissed him so deeply and yet so soft, his entire heart nearly stopped beating. You truly took his breath away.

- After that night you two snuck around often, and one night you even decided to paint him. He was awful at staying still but soon you could just paint from memory. You kept the little painting with you over summer to look at. You two wrote constant letters to one another.

- When he saw you again he kissed you just like you kissed him that one night and left you in a complete daze. He also brought a stack of annotated books from home for you to read, and in exchange you gave him some of yours. You two designated one date night to them a month and it was always filled with debates, laughter and ship arguments and agreements.

- He really stepped up his party throwing game after discovering how much you absolutely love them. Seriously, Gryffindor threw some of the best parties during George and your remaining years at Hogwarts.

- He first told you he loved you when he also confessed he no longer wanted to hide away with you. He wanted everyone to know that he was yours, and you were his. You two were cuddled under the moonlight on the astronomy tower. You felt his chest heave as a nervous breath shook him and then the words came tumbling out “I love you so bleedin’ much I need the whole word to know it. I don’t want to hide anymore.” It took a while of you staring at him for him to find the courage to look at you again. When he did a smile broke out on his face because you looked so elated and so beautiful.

- You agreed and said you loved him so much. He nearly cried. Later that night, he told Fred (who always knew about you, but was the only one) and they did a victory dance in the dorm. All the other boys threw pillows at them and told them to shut up.

- Whenever he hears a song you might like he rushes to tell you all about it and finds a way to listen to it. You two come up with the more ridiculous dance moves that always leave the two of you doubled over in laughter.

- All his friends and family grew to adore you!

That’s all folks! I really hope you liked this!

#regulus black imagine #george weasley imagine

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anachronistic-falsehood · 4 years

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i finally listened to all of the playlists and i have some Thoughts that i just really really want to share. i love all the playlists in their own ways but i do have some favourites

1. Janus’ Playlist

this one is SO GOOD so of course i’m ranking it first

just going by my own personal music taste, i love the vibes this playlist gives off with every single song. there wasn’t a single song i was tempted to skip

every single song perfectly fits our slimy snake boi

i love all the chill jazzy songs and the upbeat retro-sounding songs it has

i started happy stimming when Razzle Dazzle started playing so yEAH that’s a PRETTY good indication as to how much i love this playlist. imagine him doing jazz hands with all six arms with this song in the background. that is all

Billie Eilish is on this playlist so-

i am literally listening to this playlist again right now. i love my slimy snake son

As Far As I Can See made me a little emotional??? nobody’s listening to him, someone show my slimy snake boy some love please

if i could add one song to this playlist, i would choose The Room Where It Happens from the Hamilton Broadway Soundtrack. i think it gives off the same vibes, and the content of the song (“i want to be involved in things but i can’t be and i’m frustrated with not being able to have my input listened to because i’m not as important as everyone else”) really fits him.

2. Remus’ Playlist

IT HAS NINJA SEX PARTY ON IT. OF COURSE I LOVE THIS PLAYLIST

i’m used to stupidly vulgar songs because i listen to a lot of old Hollywood Undead so none of the songs made me uncomfortable

i love that he shares a lot of the same artists with Roman. Remus is Creativity 2 Electric Boogaloo, and it’s like he’s trying to take what’s Roman’s and make it fit for himself. like “hey, i’m just you but worse, you could have been me, and i’m not going to let you forget it so i’m going to warp what’s yours to fit my own ideas”

listening to Death as a Fetish made me SAD, i just wanna hug this stinky trash gremlin rat bastard now

a lot of the songs are just straight up bops that i have never heard before?? hello?? how have i not heard these before??? seriously thank u Remus for introducing me to these songs

if i could add any song to this playlist, i would choose Thermodynamic Lawyer by Will Wood and the Tapeworms. the absolute angry chaos of the song fits him perfectly, especially the beginning where the singer yells “i hold myself in contempt!” and the music kicks in. the lyrics are all over the place, if you can even decipher what he’s saying at all, and some of the imagery that comes with it is a little extreme and Remus-ish. it’s also just a song about hating someone’s guts, and judging from other songs on his playlist, it’s pretty clear that Remus seems to hate Roman a lot. basically i’m saying i can imagine Remus doing a big villain musical number to this.

3. Logan’s Playlist

BO BURNHAM!! WHITE AND NERDY!! THE ELEMENTS SONG!!! every single song on here made me go “oh my god HECK YES!!!”

One More Time With Feeling and Not Perfect made me emotional, i wanna hug my smart nerdy boy

just from my own music taste, not all of the songs were ones that i vibed with, but i enjoyed them nonetheless, and they all gave some really good insight to his character

imagining Logan listening to Letter C and Time Adventure makes me smile. i am a Logan stan first and human being second

the song i would pick to add onto his playlist is La La La by Naughty Boy. LOOK at the lyrics and tell me that doesn’t scream Logan. i think it would play into Logan’s unwillingness to acknowledge the others’ feelings and even ignore his own at times and act like he doesn’t even have any. he wants to be right and solve things with objective facts and he finds emotions tiring since he can’t make objective decisions when feelings are involved, so he blocks them out altogether.

4. Roman’s Playlist

this boy has a LOVELY music taste. it doesn’t fit my own super well but i still enjoyed all the songs

MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS!!!!

again,,,,, the fact that he and Remus both have a lot of the same artists on their playlists,,,,, i see what y’all did there, Thomas & friends. i see you

having Wonderboy on there made me think that maybe Roman and Remus used to have a good brotherly relationship, and maybe. maybe Roman wants to repair their relationship but Remus is stubborn and hates Roman for unknown reasons

most of the songs were bops and i love them

there are a lot of songs i would choose to add to this playlist but i’m going with Born This Way by Lady Gaga, because come ON you’re telling me that the gayest prince on this side of hemisphere wouldn’t have Lady Gaga???? it’s a crime to not have this song on his playlist. he also needs a little ego boost right now after SvS Redux and i feel like listening to this song would make him feel a little bit better. i think this song would highlight the few things Roman is really proud of and represent how he used to act before his self-esteem issues came into play

5. Virgil’s Playlist

lots of emo. i love it

a lot of the songs were similar to me and just kind of blurred together, but that’s probably just because i kept zoning out and doing other things while listening to this playlist. so, a plus for me is that it’s a good set of songs for me to play in the background while i’m busy to provide some noise

i love that it ended with Vindicated. i also lost my shit when it started playing Under Pressure but that’s just because i’m a Game Grumps fan and their bit in the Sonic Boom playthrough with the misheard lyrics makes me crack up every time

all in all, lots of chill songs, some angsty songs, the lyrics of most of them give us more context to his character

i appreciate that Thanks For The Memories is on here. hell yeah purp man, give us that early 2000′s emo music

I Disagree by Poppy is the song i would add to his playlist. Virgil said “i fight the man” and this song really has that “fuck the man i will fight authority” vibe to it. also you cannot convince me that Virgil isn’t a fan of Poppy’s new music. i kind of wish his playlist had some heavier rock stuff on it to show his former, more rebellious and cocky pre-AA personality, but i like what we got and how this playlist shows how much he’s changed.

6. Patton’s Playlist

these songs are so SWEET and i love him

i went feral as soon as i saw that New Soul was on here

however, i was very zoned out when i listened to this playlist so most of the songs blended together in my head and i hardly remember anything i heard. most of them sounded very similar

i do remember that i loved Turnaround, Oranges, and Oh Heart though!!! Oh Heart was probably my favourite from his playlist

i love that both he and Logan have a song from Tank and the Bangas on their playlists, and the songs are so different but still connected by the artist. it shows how different Patton and Logan are in every aspect but that they still need each other to do their jobs and that they can work together when they need to

overall a very chill but emotional playlist and i wouldn’t expect anything else from our lovely precious boy

the song i would add onto his playlist is Gotta Let Go by Hollywood Undead. it’s a very emotional song about letting go of the past and looking forward to the future. the “Moving On” episodes are what made me think of this song. i think it shows Patton’s overwhelming optimism about everything and his hesitation to move forward and stray from his strict optimistic morals.

anyway if you read this whole thing i apologize for wasting your time but i just needed to rant about these boys’ music tastes

#sorry for the Rant #cursing #tw swearing #tw caps #fanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders

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bysombreseas · 5 years

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The Dusk Patrol - Chapter One Excerpt

Authour’s Note:

The first two thousand words or so of my WIP, a little scene where our protagonists are introduced and roles are established. Hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: @aurisadventure , @adayforducks , @danielleslayer , @wordsofpaintandsmoke , @smudged-glasses-writing

Episode 1 – Nightwalkers

It was only when the sun fell that Hope City lit up. Neon flames danced to the pounding chorus that spilled from club doorways and underground raves. The orderly suits of the business sector gave way to brightly dressed youths and drunken partygoers. Beer and blood and drugs beckoned from every doorway, while on the street a thousand honking taxis fought to push through endless gridlock.

There was a lot of crime in Hope City. Beyond the dazzling wealth of its tourist sector lay ramshackle neighborhoods and creeping decay. Hope was two cities, really; one was for the tourists, and the other, much poorer and far more violent, for its permanent residents.

It was in this second city that Dusk Patrol cadet Wren Nichang found herself, her police trainee badge flashing white every time she passed beneath a streetlight. The wind had started to pick up, ruffling her bob cut and sending a chill across her bare arms. It got cold quick at night, even in the summer.

Her mentor tonight was Brian Okave, six foot five and built like a steamroller. The Faith’s golden halo hung around his neck, though Wren couldn’t imagine him as the kind of man who prayed. Everything else about his uniform was standard Dusk Patrol; one Gaea L56 sidearm, one crackling walkie-talkie, a UV-capable flashlight and two clips of hollow-point bullets. Okave was one of the best mentors on the force and Wren was hoping she’d be assigned to shadow him for her training period. It was hard to tell if Okave reciprocated the feeling. There was a veneer of calm about him that rarely broke, even when he raised his voice.

“Nichang. Situational assessment.”

They were in a quieter part of town, the buildings ramshackle and the streetlights few and far between. It wasn’t a place that outsiders visited often, a hidden slum just blocks from one of the city’s biggest concert halls. “There are no cars in sight,” Wren said, squinting as she peered into the darkness. “Fence behind us isn’t short enough to jump. The houses across the street are too close together for there to be alleyways. There’s only one person in the immediate area, leaning against that streetlight. I assume that’s our contact.”

“Good eyes,” said Okave. “Professional assessment. Keep your guard up nonetheless. This is a bad part of town and some nightwalkers are very good at hiding.”

The wind picked up, a soft howling that competed with the distant city noises for attention. As they crossed the street, Wren folded her arms and wished she’d remembered to bring her jacket. “Sir?” she ventured. “Shouldn’t we be wearing plainclothes?”

“We should, yes.”

“Then why–”

“Department rules, Nichang. You’ll see when you meet her.”

“Oh.” Wren frowned. Suspense was never a good thing. “Have you known her for long?

“Several months. I met Anderson on a case. She was mugged on her way home, broke the poor bastard’s arm in three places. I brought up a murder I was working on and she gave me a name. Been my contact ever since.” There was a note of pride in Okave’s voice.

Wren nodded, unsure what to make of that. “With all due respect, sir, I didn’t realize the Dusk Patrol kept informants. None of my previous mentors had any.” Wren left out that her previous mentors hadn’t been too interested in casework. The mentors only got one night with each cadet before putting down names for permanent assignment, and most spent that time getting to know the trainees instead of doing actual policing. Wren–who couldn’t hold a conversation if it was glued to her hands–had spent the last two weeks red-faced and mumbling as each mentor’s initial enthusiasm faded into awkward silence.

“We don’t,” Okave replied to Wren’s query. “This is a special case.”

The figure waved at their approach. A girl, around a year younger than Wren, maybe eighteen. She wore an oversized sweater with the hood pulled up, torn jeans, and fingerless gloves. Her shoes were cheap knockoffs with a brand name like Noke or Jordens. Her face was drawn and pale, feral almost, her short brown hair so ragged and messy Wren was sure that she’d cut it herself with a dull knife and no mirror.

“Brian,” the girl said. Her voice was low. “Who’s the Asian chick?”

“Don’t call me that,” Wren scowled. She was an addict of some sort, that much was certain. Probably wearing the sweater to hide the marks in her arms–though from needles or teeth it was impossible to say. It wasn’t unheard of for people to give themselves up as blood banks, even if feeding was illegal outside of approved centres. Then again there’s the other possibility. She’s one of them.

“Sure thing cutie,” said the girl, with a smile. “I’m Anderson. Ann for short. Brian you didn’t answer my question.”

“Her name is Wren. She’s my shadow for the evening.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool. What am I here for? And I know you’re gonna say ‘the murder of course’ but which one? Cops gunned down three nightwalkers on Cinder Street–”

“Official statement is they drew first.”

“Cross that off. There’re some dead people in a hotel. I think it was a murder-suicide, but I don’t know much. Heard it was gruesome–blood and wax everywhere. Pretty spooky.”

“We want to know about this man.” Okave drew a rumpled photograph from his pants pocket and passed it to the girl. She looked it over, pursing her lips. “Try to remember, would you? I’m sure it can be worth your while.”

Wren watched the interaction from behind Okave. Dusk Patrol was weird in that way; for some things you had complete autonomy and others none. It was probably a rule somewhere you had to wear uniforms when talking to informants. Something about ‘maintaining a position of authority’. They were big on that stuff, pride before practicality.

The autonomy though. Only in the Dusk Patrol could you park your squad car two blocks away, walk to some crap-sack neighborhood and offer a lowlife a bribe without calling any of it in. Then again, when every case was an assault or murder, the criminals were monstrous nightwalkers and officer mortality rates were high enough that a sizeable part of the budget went to paying off life insurance, for most the perks weren’t worth the risk.

“I think I’ve seen him before.” The girl’s voice grew in confidence with each syllable. “Yeah, he was at Iris last Saturday. Bought a drink or two.”

“Iris?” Wren asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a nightwalker club.” Anderson smiled, a big smile, large enough to show incisors. “I am a vampire.”

Wren stared and Okave sighed and Anderson’s wide smile grew wider.

“Let’s get back on topic here,” said Okave. “We know the guy was at Iris. I wouldn’t be here talking to you if we didn’t know that–”

“I work drinks,” Anderson explained to Wren.

“–so clearly I’m looking for more. Who was he? What did he do? Where did he go?”

“Why does it matter?”

Okave sighed again, running a dark hand over his forehead. “Because he’s been dead two days. We found his body in a dumpster on Queens. Throat slashed, drained dry. He had no wallet, no ID, and we’re waiting on forensics to match his prints. Autopsy came back yesterday; shows he wasn’t a nightwalker.”

“And then you started caring.” Anderson’s voice took on an edge. And that’s why we don’t have informants, Wren thought. To say the relationship between nightwalkers and the Dusk Patrol was poor would have been the understatement of the century. They hate us.

“I just do my job,” Okave said flatly. “The case came on my desk yesterday. A witness placed the guy somewhere in Iris’s vicinity, so I figured I’d talk to you.”

“Well I don’t know his name,” said Anderson. “But I know what he was.”

“That’s a start.”

Anderson scratched the back of her neck. If she felt threatened by the two officers she did not show it. My first vampire, Wren thought. Not entirely true, as she had seen other nightwalkers during training. Behind cells, though, or in interrogation rooms. Anderson was out in the wild. She was different than what Wren had expected. Cocky and rude, but not entirely unfriendly. How does it come so easily to her, that confidence? I wish I had that.

“He was a familiar,” Anderson was saying. “Your shadow know what I’m talking about?”

Okave looked to Wren, who was still staring. “Well?”

“Oh. Uh, they’re humans that want to be nightwalkers, right? Vampires usually.”

“It’s like a fetish,” Anderson chuckled. “He came up to the counter and asked for a beer. I think it was an excuse to make small talk; you should have seen his face when I told him my age. He asked my name, but I already knew where this was going. I told him I wasn’t interested in that sort of arrangement.”

“Blood for money?” Wren asked.

“Providence no, it’s blood for love. It’s blood so maybe a vampire might take you into their home, or even illegally turn you if you’re lucky.”

“I see.” Wren fought to keep her face blank. The thought of willingly letting a vampire drink her blood was a repulsive one, but she didn’t want to offend Anderson. “Does it happen often?”

This time it was Okave who answered. “Rarely, and rarer still the authorities don’t find out. There’s always the danger of ending up with an abusive vampire, or a pathological liar that just wants you for blood. That said, not that all vampires are manipulative, nor are nightwalkers in general–”

“Aw shut up,” Anderson interrupted. “Always with that PC bullshit. Anyways, I told the guy I wasn’t interested, and he left. To be honest I’m not too surprised he’s dead; dude was naïve, nervous. Probably his first time out.”

“Did you see him with anyone?” Okave asked, but the vampire just shrugged.

“Come on, Brian, it’s a busy place. It’s hard to make out faces in a crowd.”

Okave stuck a hand in his pants pocket and came out with a few bills. He let the glow from the streetlight catch on them. “How about these faces?”

Anderson snatched the money. She was almost a head smaller than Okave, her thin form dwarfed in his shadow. “Yeah, I recognize them. I remember your dead man too. Saw him leave with a woman, some ‘crat.”

“You have a name?”

Anderson shook her head. “No, she’s new, but I know the guy she was drinking with. His name is Tim Gossel.”

Gossel, she explained, had been turned legally at a government center when he was eighteen, one of the last before they got shut down. He was a college student and, Anderson added, a ‘hippy’. Wants to ban silver bullets and reopen turning centres. Thinks the Dusk Patrol and the Faith are evil. To Wren he sounded much worse than a hippy; he was a radical with dangerous views. No doubt he thought nightwalker criminals were all good people as well, victims of culture and circumstance and societal pressures.

At least she doesn’t think much of him either, Wren mused. The contempt in Anderson’s voice was palpable. “I didn’t think he was violent,” the vampire was saying. “Though I bet he’d take a swing at me if he knew I talk to you guys.”

It occurred to Wren just how risky Anderson’s actions were. People like Gossel were rife in Hope; no doubt they would consider speaking to the police some form of betrayal. “Does that worry you?” she asked, feeling a note of concern for the slouching girl.

“Fuck no I’d kick his scrawny ass,” Anderson laughed. “Kid’s three, I’m a hundred– Wren, are you alright? Your eyes just got real fuckin’ large again.”

“She’s fine,” Okave said. “If you don’t have anything else, I think we’re done here.”

“Fine by me.” Anderson straightened, adjusting her hood. “Nice to meet you, Wren. See you around sometime.”

Wren managed a quiet ‘bye’ as the girl walked past them, out of the streetlight and into the shadows. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts. She’s a vampire. The Dusk Patrol is supposed to kill her kind, and werewolves, and demons, and ghouls, and any kind of nightwalker that makes trouble. But she doesn’t care, no, she’s our friend. And she’s a hundred, plus what, the seventeen, eighteen years she was human? Did she call me cute?

Providence, she did. That’s so cool.

#wip #The Dusk Patrol #writeblr #chapter #fiction #urban fantasy #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community

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eqcentriceqclectic-blog · 4 years

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Inherited Demons

2019/12/07 – Nothing Right

Nothing I do is ever right. In His eyes, I will always be a feral horse that needs to be put to the whip. If I don’t and I get free, he hopes that my freedom in the wild will end in cold realisation in my last moments as I am beset by wolves. Even, if objectively right, it is as if an offense on his very existence—as if he were a god or a ghost and disbelief in him would condemn him to abyssal oblivion. And so, being right or doing well is actively discouraged—either through deafening and oppressive silence, or through roaring rage and insufferable indignation. He may be seen as quiet, but that is not to be taken as docility or humility—no; it is a sinister and seething silence. Normally, improvement is supposed to be seen as positive.

I cannot count the number of times I’ve either wanted to run away from home or outright kill myself. It desperate times, they’ve been my mantra or my prayers to soothe my wretched soul. What stopped me from running away? Fear of failure. Fear of strangers. Fear of retribution. An incompetency instilled in me long ago. One I replicated and instilled in a brother placed into my charge, even as a shell of a person—shattered shards looking for a reflection. It wasn’t until that reflection attempted to kill himself that I realised what my shoddily-assembled puzzle-of-a-person had done. I had become that which I had despised all my life--that dictatorial and patriarchal demon for which is suffered beneath had impregnated in me a piece of its insidious soul. It had gripped me in its agonising grasp, and regurgitated the darkness imparted to it, into my screaming-tear-streaked face. And thus, the cycle would continue like a horror-franchise that just won’t die. That was the day I realised—despite my love for the pure curiosity and optimism of children and the undeniable yearning to cradle and raise small-beings of my ghostly-ovaries—that I could not perpetuate this curse. To adopt a family-less entity into this story would be tantamount to sacrificing them to the demon that inhabits our family-line with my own bloodied hands.

I remember when I was bird-sitting Rita (a cousin’s feather-child) and He attempted to interact with it while wildly inebriated—like he enjoys doing—and held out his hand. Rita, as finicky conures tend to be, bit him HARD as she did not know him and did not like him. I feared for that bird’s life as I recognised the drunken rage that overtaken his alcohol-laden-bubbly-demeanor, as he shouted some profanity at the bird. I called out, to let him know I was present, and explained to him why she bit him before telling him to leave her alone.A similar incident happened years ago when I had my bird, Vira. She was a feisty bird and I loved her bravery and assertiveness but the curse infused in me by Him did not make distinctions between humans, non-human animals, plants, or inanimate objects. She and my brother have both bore witness to the same rage and self-perceived-indignity-fuelled-wrath I bore witness to growing up. I loved her dearly, but could not reconcile my own behaviour—I could not split this demonic presence within myself with the love I had for all living things as they both were a part of who I was and it was maddening. But as with all things deeply-unsettling, we seek to take flight from it—as is natural—to get as far as we can from it and forget about it so we can go about our days. To face it, would be to face the demon—itself, a part of you—and to face your own guilt and culpability in its sins, for without you, it would not be able to do its work as a formless, parasitic, lifeless virus. To face your own guilt and responsibility in hurting others is a terrifying thing; it chills you to your core and tears it to shreds because you want to believe you are a good person who does good things, and when you are not the hero of your own story, then you can never be a hero in any story—if you are the villain in your own story, then you will be the villain in all stories.

Looking myself in my own shattered mirror, I could finally see the demon bleeding forth from behind my ill-assembled portrait… I could only play at perfection for so long before all the mismatched pieces fell apart and revealed the vast darkness that mocked me beneath. Like a self-indulgent actor without a true mirror to look into, I enchanted myself with delusions that I was not He and that I was above that which lurked at the bottom of every bottle. And all the while, I was a cheap imitation of him—like a copy-cat-killer imprinting on a serial-killer worshipped by the media. I didn’t need alcohol to justify my crimes, for I had a divine mandate bestowed upon me by my ancestors, which was bestowed upon them by successive emperors, and god-kings before them, and thus the gods themselves. Chinese patriarchy is as insidious a poison as it is insipid as it permeates into every aspect of life in the family. It may not have been such a poison, but it certainly is now. As they say, “Power, absolute, corrupts—absolutely.”

In Chinese culture, there is a powerful emphasis put upon passing on the family name—so much so that female-infanticide was a widespread practice in China. My grandmother used the phrase ‘tuang-tong jeng’ frequently when urging her living descendants to procreate and pray for sons. Also present in Chinese culture is the misguided belief that because all elders are to be afforded respect, it automatically blesses them with the power to always be right—no matter the circumstances. It can be seen in dazzling display with successive Chinese-emperors slaughtering countless people over the millennia, simply for disagreeing or embarrassing the father-of-the-nation with reality and truth. Is it not why the satirical fable of the Emperor and his “new clothes” exists? An emperor that is willfully-blind is one that is indulgent and willfully-negligent—and those that could not see beyond their own gilded mirrors, often led to the starvation of the masses they were given dominion over, and ultimately, their dynasty’s demise. Once they lost their divine mandate, another emperor would rise and a spoiled descendant of his would lead it to ruin, in cycles unending.

After help assembling my mirror to match those that see me for who I am, only now am I able to see the apparition hiding behind it. As puppet-master and puppet entwined as one, it is my responsibility to sever those strings that snake around my offending limbs. It is my responsibility to cast off the shadows that shroud me, as it has become me. It has infused into my essence and become its own—my own—demon, separate from His, but no less His satanic-spawn. Only after acknowledging its existence, screaming its name, can I even begin to excise it like the viral cancer it is. The process is never-ending, for if you ever believe you have destroyed it, your complacency will allow it respite to recover and thus spite your own efforts to defeat it in the first place. We must always strive to be better, despite our accomplishments and desires to revel and relish our achievements—for idle hands do the devil’s work. Resting on our laurels is like laying and brooding upon our nest-eggs atop a poisoned heath—our savings and our accolades will rot along with us. We’ll only fester along our heaped up hoard, as a magnificent dragon does upon all its glittering greed. If I’ve gleaned anything over the past two or so years, it’s that our own pride and arrogance will always be our downfall. It understand that it was my own hubris in believing I was less of a terrible person than he was, only to find myself, one day, staring back at Him in the mirror. I saw me, regurgitating exactly what putrid horrors was spat into my own face, at someone else—someone I was told was below me—simply because they were younger or less of a person than I was. And that is how He still sees me: lowly, basal, lost, stupid, barbaric, “sub-human”—and worst of all—a child. And one that is unbridled, feral, and wild—but worst of all, “uncontrollable”. And, also, wholly unimpressed with the infallibility of the patriarchal parental dictatorship to which begs rebellion and resistance.

I will no longer scrape my head at His feet simply because he decided he would do the “holy” duty of acceding to his mother’s wishes of him to marry a woman he didn’t know, and would never love, and bear for him a son he could present to his parents—just because he is my father and my elder. He is as flawed as we all are and I will not grovel at His feet simply because he thinks he is my superior simply because he is my father and my elder. Respect is earned—not demanded—and throughout the years, my respect for him corroded away until there was no flesh left to burn off. Similarly, I have but few happy memories of Him, as the visceral emotional abuse and on-going threats of physical abuse incinerated the vast majority of them as Vesuvius did the people of Pompeii, or the atomic bomb did to the people of Nagasaki. Neither annihilating disaster completely removed the people from existence, as there remained ashy shells or radioactive shadows in their wakes—such are my happy-memories left, as obtuse imprints in the eroding beach-sands: as vague stories of ‘Snow Black and the Seven Dwarves’, as ephemeral visions of rehabilitating young birds blown to the ground by torrential storms, and as echoes of lessons on why not to step on ants. Stronger and clearer are the memories of being slapped for protesting against a particular untested brand of pizza or being chased with a large wooden stick purchased from Home Depot for refusing a hair-cut from Him. Another, particularly, peculiar poison of His was his inherited creed of beating his own child if that child was bullied to tears (or into action)—a shadow he internalised from his own father when being bullied by neighbourhood Vietnamese kids for being Chinese, back in Vietnam.

Growing up as a child in a house-of-cards propped up by two maternal hopes for their fifth-born children was a bittersweet hell, as many are—sweet enough for hope to grow but not enough to survive under the withering harsh bitterness. Perhaps it’s more of a purgatory: not horrible enough to cause one to kill oneself, but just enough to wish so. Those two grandmothers were my oases of love and care in an arid dusty desert of moonless, endless, nights. They were my guiding stars, above all the rabid fighting and gnashing teeth of childish gore-cloaked-hyaenas that called themselves my parents. My grandmothers were the life-sustaining waters, and my parents were the malarial insects that abated my existence. When my brother attempted to kill himself, I came to find out—of course, through another one of their petty and accusative arguments—that neither of them ever dreamed of having children and raising them. Why? Because they were still children, themselves—they were mostly raised by their elder siblings as their immigrant parents worked to carve a life in an increasingly hostile environment. That environment they grew up in abruptly changed as conditions in Vietnam deteriorated and they it was decided that they all needed to flee through hell and high-water (and marauding pirates). The Peter-Pan-like situation became even more so during His teen and young-adult years; formed here, in Canada, under his elder brother and without parents or grandparents to guide these “Lost Boys” fell into a world of alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, and guns that their new peers immersed them in. His elder brother went from a sixteen-year old running a small textiles business that employed workers in Vietnam to an alcoholic who would gamble his way into a depression in Canada. He would go from an inquisitive child making toys out of trash and sticks and swimming in monsoon-flooded roads to a teen drinking himself into a stupor and smoking until his adult teeth would become grey and lined with tar. Children raising children does not yield the positive results, and least of all depressed children raising children—this is true of my parents, and of myself. I had no business being in-charge of my baby brother—absolutely zero—especially with the foul fecal froth spilling from their mouths, to mine, as it then spilled down to my younger brother as I abused him emotionally, verbally and physically as my parents did to me. As explained in the paragraphs above, it did not occur to me until later what I was doing was wrong—it was just what I’ve known and what I felt.

I started to notice how my cousins, aunts, and uncles would look at me as I terrorised my brother over his mistakes—or my perception of his mistakes and improprieties. My logical reasoning at the time was that, “I’m not allowed to do that; why is he?” They always looked startled—or, “unsettled,” maybe is a better word—at my outbursts and threats. I remember once, in a restaurant—where I sat next to him while we were seated amongst our cousins and the adults were sat across from us—where he refused to eat a certain food and I became unreasonably enraged at him and I threatened to cut the head off of the stuffed toy (acquired from Midway arcade in Niagara Falls) if he did not eat it. I had stunned everyone and their hearts broke for my brother, just a young child being terrorised by a teen sibling. Breaking this cycle of abuse was tough—especially while still being abused, yourself. After, breaking free from physical (less so, emotional and verbal) abuse, all the injustice and indignity and rage continued spilling on to the easiest and most vulnerable target, who—under patriarchal rules—would lack arbitrary familial immunity from my wrath and cruelty. Where I could verbally, emotionally, and physically abuse him for whatever I wished, I could only cry, whimper, cower, and hide. However, I did exact vengeance upon them by hiding or damaging the belongings of my parents in protest of their mistreatment of me. There was one instance when I was about six or seven and I fled out of the back of the house after having been shouted out of the tear-stained washroom I had locked myself into on the top floor of the house. On my way passed the car, after deciding that I would run away from home, my eyes burned with salted indignation and so I picked up a stone from the gravel bed and scraped profanities onto the car’s paint and transferred my raw emotions into words. I dropped the stone and continued past the garage and through the laneway until I reached the side-walk, still crying. I stood there, thinking, and came to a realisation that I could not go any further—for if I did, I would be kidnapped and killed by a stranger. So, I walked down to the corner and right back to the front of the house and down the alleyway back to the backyard and back into the house where my parents were still searching—His wooden stick still in-hand—without a clue that I had tried to run away (or that I had keyed words of profanity on to the car with a pebble).

In 2017, when Grandma first became weak after years of mismanaging her own hypertension-medication, I became involved in her healthcare in the balmy month of July. Before then, I didn’t even know she had hypertension and thought she took medication just because it was something a person did when they got as old as she did. After accompanying grandma and Him to both the hospital and her nephrologist, I began researching Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD). I learned about how the kidney can be damaged by high blood-pressure and looked into the medication she was taking, going so far as to see which medications could be contra-indicated. I advised Him that grandma’s medication (since she became inconsolable and beyond fearful for her life and no longer was able to manage them herself and became paranoid that we (including the doctors) were trying to poison her and began refusing to take them for a while) should be split into two as then the hypertensive-medications were be better able to manage her blood-pressure through the day instead of causing a sharp drop for the day while allowing it to rise again in the evening--one of her medications for hypertension-management was even specifically designed to be taken at night which is when blood-pressure is supposed to naturally drop. He likes to take credit for this. He also likes to take credit for what he didn’t even believe for a long time—her weakness that started in the first place. When her health was declining in April of 2017, after her nephrologist cut her off from the round of erythropoietin he had initially put her on in the winter prior, He did not believe that it was her health, but her age. I would become increasingly frantic in asserting that this was the reason as the months dragged on and by July, she could barely get out of bed because of how anemic she was. I, unlike He, had done research into what “erythropoietin” was and why she needed to take those shots. I was upset at her nephrologist for cutting her off from those shots because he thought her red-blood-cell count was too high (after a blood-test in March/April) and he’d see her back in three months (this was the cadence of her visits to him: every three months, so approximately four times a year). Again, by July, she was so weak that He took her to the hospital twice in the latter half of that month and once in August where I accompanied them after ending my seasonal job a few days prior. I urged him again that it was the lack of erythropoietin shots and resulting anemia that made her so weak—but he again asserted that it was because she was old. Thankfully, the nephrologist prescribed another round of erythropoietin shots (one shot, every other week, for three months—so six syringes in total). However, the ordeal and fear of death had warped her mind—the nurse at the nephrologist’s office told us that because her GFR was so low, she would likely need dialysis but that dialysis for people aged eighty and up were too at risk of developing a central-line infection—and surgery for a kidney transplant would provide an ever higher risk of mortality. She also told us that she most likely only had two-years left to live—guess what? It’s been over two-years now. I guess it’s the same for when Push got the morbid news that she only had three months left to live and lived another three years. Anyway, I digress. After horrifying and terribly painful months of trying to sleep with an insomniac grandmother in the next room having an end-life crisis, chanting all through the night of her tragic ending, and trying to manage her anxiety, panic, and paranoia in the day-time after both He and mom went to work, and brother went to school, she snapped and her dementia advanced by leagues. In the years prior, I started to notice she became much less brave and much more reserved and careful—in addition to misplacing her watch and other things that told a story of short-term memory loss. She became a lot less aware of her surroundings where, before—as a mischievous little child—I would stand behind the wall at the base of the stairs and try to surprise her but just get a sweet old smirk and an adorable elderly quip as she walked by her silly grandson. However, ever since reaching ninety, just walking to her room and asking what she was watching would startle her half to death (and our floors are obscenely creaky)—she became a lot less aware of her surroundings and where things (or people were). Around this time, she also started to hear ringing in her ears when there was only dead-silence. After she became increasingly unhinged and violent, there became a need to hospitalise her—not for her weakness or anemia, this time, but for her aggression. She probably had not slept for over a month, by this point, and this was most likely the source of said aggression, paranoia, and anxiety. On the car ride there, she was openly hostile to Him while he was driving and my attempts to stop her so as to avoid having a car-accident turned her aggression towards me. When finally passing triage and reaching the waiting area of the emergency department, Grandma continued her violence, painfully hitting Him and I with her gold-and-jade-laden rings. When a room finally opened up, she refused to go and wanted to go back home (even after days and days and days of wanting to be taken to the hospital) and when we tried to gently push her towards the room, she suddenly turned around, and as it with the power of all the elephant matriarchs of the world pushed me and Him out of the room and began assaulting us before the nurses quickly called for orderlies and security to bring her down and tie her arms and legs to the hospital-bed in the room. Because of what had just transpired, she was upgraded to the sub-accute emergency section with a room closer (and facing) the nurses-station. She was sedated with haloperidol through injection because she refused to take an oral dose but during the process Him, I, a nurse, and two security guards needed to hold her down and she still was almost able to bite the nurse (and myself). After that, we were put into contact with the Local Health Integration Network (LHIN) to discuss placing her in an assisted-living facility and both 4th Uncle and He were seriously considering it and passed on the responsibility of coordinating with LHIN to me due to my higher education and superior command of English. They also put in a referral for us to the hospital’s geriatrics department and scheduled us to see a Dr. Cheng at a later date after the attending physician provided a temporary round of anxiolytics (lorazepam). When taking the lorazepam, she was much more docile and also able to sleep and it felt like we got her back from the throes of insanity—that is, until we had to take increasing doses and it became unfeasible to continue. Her violent tirades returned, along with her insomnia and we went to see the geriatrician. He proved to be—not just incompetent, but—wildly careless and inadequate; his bed-side manner was shockingly crass and crude. He never really listened when we came in for the appointment and seemed in a hurry to get us out the door with a new round of pills for her to take: haloperidol, sertraline—you name it, she probably was prescribed it. Some of them were worse than others, like haloperidol which left her a stumbling and drooling mess—taken long enough, left her bid-ridden and Him changing diapers and bed-sheets. Eventually, I decided it was time to stop seeing the geriatrician as I was also so upset with his flippant demeanor when at appointments in his office. He took a little while to convince, as He was afraid of Grandma reverting back to her violent and difficult self even though I was the one home alone with her while everyone else was gone for a majority of the day at work or school. As that was the case, the representatives from LHIN mostly dealt with me when they came by the house whether it was the social-worker on the case or the professionals she would send to the house. The most helpful professional was an occupational therapist who educated me upon dementia and Alzheimer’s as well as providing emotional support and advice on the situation with the geriatrician and his exceedingly terrible medications. Before this, in my ignorance, I was yelling and screaming at Grandma, confused as to how she could go from a completely normal and loving grandmother who I would give up the my own mother for to someone I was afraid of being around. After the occupational therapist left, my relationship with Grandma started slowly shifting back to one of positive interactions and normalcy. He, however, refused to read the educational materials the occupational therapist left to enlighten us on Grandma’s dementia because he refused to believe she had dementia because of how quick and abrupt the change was. He wanted to believe that she was doing this on purpose and after retiring before the Christmas of 2017, would often get into drunken tirades and yell so loud you could hear him throughout the house and even in the backyard. This continued afterwards, as well, and followed the cycles of her decline into bed-riddance (either from the anti-psychotics prescribed by the incompetent geriatrician, or the lack in erythropoietin) and ascent back into insanity and unnatural strength. In another descent in early 2018, after her nephrologist AGAIN decided that her RBC-level was too high and cut her off from erythropoietin for another three months, I again became insistent that He call the nephrologist to prescribe another round of shots. He was stubborn, as always is the case, and believed that her being bed-ridden and defecating in a diaper meant that it was her time—as if you were just born with a pre-determined age at which someone would die at. I was enraged so I took matters into my own hands after getting home from work one day in May and called the nephrologists’ office and angrily berated the secretary, to which she told me that all we had to do was call in after running out and they would send the prescription and shots to the pharmacist and we could pick them up. I sat there after the call, part-relieved that it meant Grandma wouldn’t have to go through another round of panic and part-annoyed that He did not want to do it because of laziness and self-importance (the belief that He is smarter than I, even without doing any research or having any prior knowledge about anything, even though He was always the one who took her to the nephrologist’s and family physician’s appointments). He does the same with plants and ended up condemning our eight-year-old starfruit plant to die in the cold, despite my protest. He always thinks he’s the smartest person, regardless of what experience/knowledge he has or doesn’t have in a particular subject—and I’ve inherited a similar manner of speaking-as-a-matter-of-fact-ly, as if I was 100% sure about what I was saying (which often gets me into trouble).

Depression In every waking day, the demon lurks within your shadow—always just out of the corner of your eye. As that sun sets and the lights go out, that shadow becomes an all-consuming spectre that fills the room as much as it does your mind—it eats that light your try to light inside, unhinging its jaws and swallowing the sun whole like a constrictor after it had crushed all the air from your lungs. A breath-taking darkness sends your heart into a frantic panic, straining and screaming and searching for every last bubble of air in the blood starting to leak from your eyes. Crimson tears streak down, acrid and burning, like streams of fiery lava making their way to the salty sorrowful depths of the oceans. Your head is feverishly throbbing with starvation, suffocating and drowning in itself as it melts from the draconic hell-fires lit under you by the shadowy-figure. You are more palatable to it when scared out of your mind and injuriously maimed by your own hand, so it eats at you night by night, piece-by-piece—it could be days, months, years, or even decades—but it is patient and diabolical. You are to it, like finely aged-wines or cheeses are to a wealthy connoisseur with too much money to know what to do with.

An Unwelcome Stranger Is His child, in his home, being a burden upon him. It doesn’t matter if this person does anything good, because—ultimately—this person is a stranger. A worthless stranger borne of his flesh and blood, that only continues to feast like a fat leech, engorging itself on His blood.

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missnmikaelson-main · 5 years

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Consequences Part 1

Summary: What do you do when your old frenemy threatens to cut off your army at the source? Obviously you abscond with the doppelganger in the dead of night, but every action has consequences.

Pairing: Klaus x Elena

Word Count: 1643

Her arm stretched up and adjusted the pillow under her head when she rolled over. An alarm rang in the back of her mind.

Something wasn’t right.

She was lying on her right side in the bed. The bed… historically speaking it was a very stationary object. The steadiest piece of furniture one could lay down on. Unless it was being shared with a partner the mattress didn’t move. So why was she shifting? Why was her body vibrating?

She had the strangest sense of moving while lying completely still. It was extremely disconcerting.

She thought that maybe if she opened her eyes and saw herself in the space it would stop the strange sense of vertigo.

The alarm only intensified when her doe eyes peered blearily at the walls. Her bedroom didn’t have a sloping wall. Her bedding was not white and gold, and her mattress was definitely not this soft.

Her breath shook as she climbed out of the bed and ran her hands back through her hair. The floor vibrated beneath her bare feet. She quickly located her sneakers at the foot of the sleigh bed and shoved them on.

Her heart thudded in her chest when she stumbled to the door. The smooth maple wood swung open to reveal the interior of, what could only be a private plane.

How did she get on a private plane? The last thing she could remember was leaving the boarding house. Stefan and Damon had been insistent that she stay there with them where they could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe. She’d adamantly refused. They had grown insufferable over the course of the year. She had thought it would get better after breaking up with Stefan, but that had only seemed to make things worse. Just because they weren’t together didn’t mean that he would leave her alone. He and his brother, who was still trying to woo her, had grown increasingly overprotective; they had gone so far as to antagonize Klaus whenever he came for her blood.

That had been the arrangement. Klaus let her live her life in exchange for a monthly blood withdrawal. It was a fair deal; he had even promised to protect her and her children.

Elena had never wanted to be a vampire. She’d told Stefan and Damon that countless times, but they still insisted that she turn. She’d actually been considering going to Klaus for help; he wanted her human, and she was starting to fear Damon might sneak into her house and turn her in the dead of night. He always said he wouldn’t, but Damon was known to be impulsive.

Klaus might have been a psychotic killer, but at least he wanted her alive. At least he would have respected her desire to live as a human being.

Klaus also happened to be on the far end of the plane. He sat in a comfortable white leather seat, which could only be described as an armchair, with a newspaper in his lap and a steaming mug of coffee on the table.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he glanced up at her before returning to the paper, “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”

Elena slowly made her way closer. She paused when she reached the chair across from him and gripped the back of it.

“Klaus,” her heart thumped, “where are we?”

“About 45,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean,” he turned the page nonchalantly.

“Okay…” Elena felt her annoyance flare. “Next question: what are doing 45,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean?”

“I should have thought that was fairly obvious,” his full lips lifted into a smirk. “We are flying, love.”

Elena knew her grin was strained when she bobbed her head. She held up a finger and fought down the frustrated scream. He was far too cocky for his own good, but then again, when one was the most powerful vampire on the planet one could afford to be cocky.

“Does anyone know where I am?”

“Of course, love,” Klaus tilted his head and ran his eyes over her rumpled clothes and mussed hair, “you know where you are, and I know where you are.”

“Hilarious,” her knees turned to water under his intense gaze. She melted into the chair and felt a flush rise in her cheeks when he stared at her a moment longer than necessary. “Would I be correct in assuming you’ve kidnapped me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Elena,” he chuckled. “You’re 19 now. Technically I abducted you.”

“Klaus!”

“You’re body guards were getting on my nerves,” he shrugged. “After what happened the other night I would think you would be glad of a little space from them.”

“What are you talking about?” She leaned forward and braced her hands on her knees. She flushed again when his eyes dropped to her rumbling stomach. She blinked when he disappeared.

“You don’t remember?” He placed a steaming mug in front of her beside a blueberry muffin. “I’d have thought it would be hard to forget your ex-boyfriend force feeding you his blood and threatening to drive you off the bridge.”

Elena’s eyes widened. She choked on the bite of muffin and washed it down with a swig of coffee. Slowly the memory came back to her: Stefan, blood, and Wickery Bridge.

“He wanted you to get rid of your hybrids,” she whispered. “Your solution was to kidnap me?”

“Abduct,” Klaus corrected with a raised finger. “Although I much prefer the term liberate.”

“You stole me away from my home, Klaus,” she glared, “from my family, my friends. They’ll come after me.”

“They’ll never find you,” he shook his head. “And they are unlikely to look since they are under the impression you ran away.” He jerked his thumb towards the seats across from them.

Elena sighed when she saw her journal poking out of the top of one of the bags.

“It certainly helped that I made you disappear first before taking off in a fit of rage.” He paused and took her shoulder. “You should see this as an opportunity Elena. You’re young and free and off to see the world.”

“How do you know I won’t run the second we hit the ground?” She glared.

“Because,” his eyes sparkled with amusement, “you’re not stupid, and secretly you’re glad to be free of Mystic Falls.”

++++

Klaus caught her wrist and threaded his fingers through hers so it looked like they were strolling through the airport. Little jolts traveled up her arm where their skin touched.

“Are you going to tell me where we are?” Elena cleared her throat. Her breath caught when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“Why would I do that love? It would only make it easier for you to run,” Klaus stroked her skin subconsciously and led her outside to the waiting car. Opening the car door he waited for her to sit.

“How about I make you a deal?” Elena braced one hand on the door and her elbow on the roof of the car. She swallowed when he mirrored her stance and boxed her in.

“Do I look like my brother, sweetheart?”

Elena tilted her head and considered him. “No,” she smirked, “must be too much of your father in you. You do look like your sister though.”

“Very cute,” his grin turned slightly feral.

“You don’t have to look like someone to be like them,” Elena pointed out, “and vice versa. How about that deal? It would make both of our lives much easier.”

“I’m listening, love,” he straightened one of her fly away curls. His fingers brushed over her ear.

Elena shivered. “I won’t run on one condition,” she subconsciously leaned forward when he nodded for her to continue. “I can call my brother once a week to check in, it’s what I’d do if I really did run. I won’t tell him where I am… I’d have to know where I was for that.”

“You won’t run?” He blinked in surprise when her heart was steady. “Why not? I honestly thought I’d have to lock you away for the next decade.”

“Because,” she turned and slid into the car, “I’m kind of glad to be free of Mystic Falls.”

Klaus shut her door and walked around. He started the car and tapped the steering wheel for a moment before nodding.

“In the interest of harmony,” he turned to face her, “I’ll agree to those terms, but…”

“There’s always a ‘but’,” Elena sighed. She buckled her seatbelt and crossed her arms.

“The calls will be made from a burner phone, and I will be present for them,” he arched an eyebrow in challenge, “just to make sure you don’t say something you shouldn’t… and your brother is the only one you call.”

Elena’s rich chocolate eyes flickered over his face for a moment before she nodded once. “We’ve got a deal… now… um… where are we?”

“See if you can guess,” he chuckled and threw the car in drive.

“Somewhere in Europe,” Elena peered through the windshield at the signs directing them out of the airport. She recognized English and French but there were several other languages that were completely foreign to her.

“You’re definitely on the right track,” he glanced at her face as he turned on to the highway.

Roughly a half hour later Elena’s eyes grew round as she took in the sparkling water along the right side of the vehicle. She cast him an inquisitive look when he drove the car onto the ferry.

Elena leaned over the rail when they were above deck and watched the receding coastline. It was dazzling. The clear turquoise water and the white sands reflected the light. Glancing over her shoulder she saw several small islands on the horizon.

“Greece,” Elena nodded decisively.

“We are in Greece,” Klaus smirked.

Tag List: @rissyrapp20

#klaulena #klaus mikaelson #elena gilbert #tvd #to #fanfic #consequences

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iliadshq · 4 years

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WELCOME TO ILIADS HQ !

We are so, so thankful for all the attention this group has received; we know, we said this a hundred times by now, and we’ll keep saying it every chance we get. The staggering amount of talent, love & attention to detail that went into these apps ? We were absolutely mesmerized. It was a pleasure to read each and every one. Without further ado, here are the applicants we could find a place for at iliadshq right now. Everyone not on this list is encouraged to reapply, both for roles that haven’t been taken up & for the characters we will doubtlessly include very soon in a second batch ! For those who were accepted, please turn in your account within 24 hours.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: We will be contacting applicants shortly about faceclaims, as some of them have to match the ethnicity of the other accepted role(s).

i. mali as ACHILLES

— the way you captured Achilles’ flammable temper, the almost unhinged dynamic he has with Thetis, his readiness to dismiss heroism as fool’s gold if it interferes with Patroclus’ safety.... whoosh, I sure am hurting ! He is disaster in promise, a pile of yearning & power ready to be ignited.

ii. flint as AGAMEMNON

— beautiful, captivating insights into his thinking ! The symmetry, the devious practicality of his thought process, was superbly rendered in your app. I especially liked the blood & gold imagery, and the unequivocal sentence: “He will do anything for his brother, but he won’t share”.

iii. meg as ANDROMACHE

— every storyline you could possibly wring out of andromache’s bio, you have. and we have to say, you did it enticingly, fleshing her character out to such an extent that we were instantly gripped. we cannot wait to see what paths she will take in the future, and this excitement owes entirely to you !

iv. rachel as ARES

— your application perfectly encapsulated what the god of war is: you made him exist out of the battlefield and brought him to every moment of adrenaline and fear, made him come alive and leap out of the page. by the very last line, we were all left kind of shookt by what we just read.

v. gubse as ATHENA

— gubse. wow. can I just say your Athena is absolutely transcendent? in reading your application, we were in awe of your brilliant writing, but also in how spectacularly you crafted Athena's ambition and motivations, clear for all to see - she seeks queendom because Olympus is sick - and she is the cure. i daresay you've made an acolyte out of all of us.

vi. grantaire as BRISEIS

— her passion for the healing arts, the way she carved a place for herself in troy, and would now go as far as defiance for the protection of the citadel she calls home... this is every bit the briseis we hoped to see ! your sources of inspiration were a great completion to the plots we outlined in her skeleton.

vii. tilda as CASSANDRA

— the plot points in your app had us all teetering on our seats, like stunned onlookers before the scene of a carnage — not only perfectly constructed, but devastating. We adored your portrayal of Cassandra, and were very touched at how closely you followed the little hints we left in the app.

viii. JJ as HADES

— it’s hard to strike a balance when portraying the most liminal character, one seated at the very interference between life & death, passion & detachment. we think you did a dazzling job ! in particular, i loved his definition of ‘ loyalty ’, as well as the scorn he has for Olympians, carefully woven through every sentence in your app.

viii. jam as HECTOR

— oh, hector ! i must admit i have a soft spot for the trojan, and your application just underlined what exactly it is i loved about him: his duty to his family, his chivalry, his loyalty and sheer strength of love towards his family; yet you also made sure to draw out the conflicts in him, making for a very compelling—and very human—picture.

ix. taryn as HELEN

— you took the most beautiful woman in the world and made us look beyond what is only skin deep. your helen is fresh, exciting, and a force all by her own; you reminded us that helen, in the very beginning, is first and foremost a child of zeus, and that she is divine in her own right.

x. mal as HERA

— mal, you've done it again. how perfectly you've shown us how Hera has suffered through endless slights, how she has never wavered and bore it at all, never silent but always steadfast. but it is clear through your writing that she does not intend to bear another humiliation, and rightfully so. her throne is being challenged, "it is time the world remember how she earned it."

xi. grantaire as HERMES

— the trickster god arrives in all his glory ! your hermes was cunning and playful, yet so very insidious too. you wrote him like the pied piper of hamelin—and by god, may god have mercy on anybody he has singing to his tune, myself included because i find myself utterly charmed by your interpretation !

xii. tilda as MENELAUS

— i let out a squeal of delight when i read over your plots for menelaus ! there’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate man, and i do fear that your menelaus is clawing at any chance to be recognised—and i’m going to love watching every single second of his pursuit for glory.

xiii. mal as ODYSSEUS

— you've painted an incredibly whole picture of Odysseus, of his cleverness, his foresight, his unwavering pursuit of the truth, but also the spot of softness he possesses for Penelope. you've written the perfect Odysseus, and we can't wait to see what he does next.

xiv. amal as PAN

— we were so happy to be able to give you a skeleton you had muse for & you certainly made us even more glad we did. Pan is feral, sacred, a wild card we desperately want to see unfold. the way you approached their detachment, yet still underlining their reasons for involvement, were absolutely masterful.

xv. winter as PENELOPE

— it is perhaps easy to make penelope a passive character, but i was absolutely chuffed when you took the road less travelled and made her presence keenly felt. there’s a certain sentimentality in the way you wrote penelope, but a certain kind of strength too, and it’s this union that makes penelope so very interesting !

xvi. flint as PENTHESILEA

— we could wax poetic about how you've summarily captured the essence of this child of Ares, 'no pawn of the gods' but also 'having no great love' for mortals either. Her sights are fixed on a far bigger picture beyond petty squabbles and contests (despite participating in one of the latter), and you've truly established her as a neutral force to be reckoned with.

#ihq:admin #ihq:accepted

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idornaseminary · 6 years

Text

Chapter One-Hundred Twenty-Five: Beatrice/Calix

“I don’t understand, dad. Why are you angry with him? He’s done nothing wrong.”

Little Calix had wrung his small hands raw, nervously staring at the rug where his father paced. The heavy boots, caked in dry mud and dragon scales, sounded like thunder every time they hammered the floorboards beneath the worn mesh of woven fabric.

The singing of ice and crystal rang above Admon Galen’s cursing and muttering, dense cigar smoke swirling in threatening clouds above their heads as Calix’s father smoked and drank to drown his sorrow in whatever he could.

Calix resisted the persistent urge to cough and splutter - his father was angry and he did not want to draw that rage closer. But, he couldn’t understand what Ryker had done to upset his parents.

“There is something wrong, Calix. Alright?” Admon sneered, unable to keep the searing anger from his bile-coated voice. “There is something wrong with him. I know it. Your mother, bless her, knows it. Everyone knows it! And, you… you’re just too young to understand it.”

“But…”

“But, nothing!” Admon roared, turning on his heels to point the burning cigar at his eldest son, “Do you hear me, Calix! Do you! He’s a squib, a mistake, an utter mistake! We, Galens, have a squib as a son! A fucking squib!”

Admon let a guttural beast-roar from his chest, flinging his amber whiskey violently to the floor. The glass shattered, coppery shards of crystal erupting into the air and littering the sitting room with innocuous, skin-splitting spikes. Calix cowered backwards, abruptly catching himself as the jingling Christmas decorations rocked cradle-like on the tree behind him. His bare toes curled, a fear of being cut spreading through his body.

He slowly looked up, finding it hard to breathe. Admon was pinching the bridge of his nose, cussing louder.

“Dad?”

“No, Cal, no,” Admon said, roughly, “I need time to think.” He grabbed his coat from the armchair, and without looking back at his terrified son, left the Galen house for the last time.

As the early morning light filtered into Calix’s bedroom, Beatrice stifled a yawn, not wanting to wake him where he lay beside her, curled up under a well-loved quilt that had faded and worn in some places, though still provided plenty of warmth on cold Irish nights. She smiled softly in the dazzling light that radiated off the glittering snow outside, little rainbows cast all over his room from icicles hanging on the tree outside his window, and admired the peaceful, angelic look he had about him as he slept. Being home with him was something out of a dream. She loved his family, though the tension between his mother and his brother sometimes filled the whole house with an awkward atmosphere which made her feel helpless. But the land was stunning and she couldn’t help but stand enchanted under the fairy lights strung up over the roads running through the town, awestruck in the tranquil silence that settled in at night, making the holiday season more magical for the newcomer. Beatrice shivered as a chill grazed her uncovered tan skin, forcing her back under the warm blankets. She smiled and sidled up to Calix, glad for an excuse to snuggle up as she draped one of her short, bare legs around his, her cold hands sliding under his shirt for added heat.

A cold dagger pierced Calix’s blood-filled heart, like the Christmas he’d cut his feet on whiskey-glass. It was a sharp, freezing pain, a dulling sensation that woke Calix from his restless slumber.

His eyes slowly peeled open, cracking at the edges as the sand shifted and the nightmare faded to a tight feeling of breathlessness. He glanced down at his chest, wondering why he could feel gooseflesh rising when he was warmly wrapped up in his bed.

He chuckled softly, the sound groggy and masqueraded behind closed teeth, as he saw Beatrice’s small hand sneak beneath his pajama top.

“Christ, your hands are freezing.”

“Sorry, Cal,” she giggled, batting her long eyelashes at him. “You know it’s always freezing in here when we wake up?” She pressed closer to his warm body, waves of heat radiating off his lean form, drawing her closer like a moth to a flame until her chest was flush with his.

“That’s just you,” Calix mumbled sleepily, wrapping a strong arm around Beatrice’s slender shoulders. “You Samoans simply aren’t built for the Irish weather.”

“Why do you think my Welsh grandmother purchased all my winter clothes for me?” she asked, nestling her face into his freckled neck, his skin finally returning to its natural paleness after nearly three weeks back home. “How the heck am I supposed to warm up when it’s this cold in here?” she asked somewhat innocently.

“It’s not that cold, it’s barely chilly,” Calix whispered in sultry tones, bundling his girlfriend close to his chest. He pulled the worn blanket around them tight, enveloping their intertwined bodies in a cocoon of softness. “But, if you’re really that cold, my love, I have a few ideas to warm you up.”

“Oh really?” she purred, waggling her eyebrows back and forth playfully, drumming her fingers on his chest. “What did you have in mind?” she asked. Beatrice smiled up at her boyfriend and peppered a string of kisses up from his neck to his earlobe, nibbling softly at the tender skin, the tips of her fingers sliding into the waistband of his trousers.

A small gasp brushed Calix’s lips, turning to a low, growling rumble as the last fragments of sleep were driven from his mind by the tongue across his earlobe and the southern rummage: “Oh, I think you’re on the right track there, babe.”

Calix rolled over, pressing down against Beatrice as his fingertips glided along the sides of her neck and knotted in her dark curls. He took his time admiring his girlfriend’s beauty, visible even in the morning shadows: the arch of her cheekbones, the pout of her lips, her gorgeous eyes and the sweet smell of cinnamon that clung to her sallow skin. Calix lifted her chin and moved their lips together. Soft and sweet turned to fast and frenzied, the featherlight touch transforming into an ardent lover’s desire, communicating with their mouths what they physically craved.

“Warming up?” Calix teased, catching Beatrice’s ruby lip between his teeth and pulling it towards him.

She moaned softly, and ran her fingers through his long brown hair, chuckling as it fell into his face. His bright grey eyes shining like starlight down at her, she grinned and flipped them over, straddling his waist. “Maybe a little bit,” she whispered, pushing his shirt up his toned chest, tugging it off with a small flourish. “I don’t know though, I’m still kinda cold,” she breathed, flipping her bouncy curls over her shoulder.

“Then why are you so far away?” Calix asked, sliding his hands beneath the light top she wore and around the small of her back, her hips dancing against his. He pulled her down, slipping his tongue past her lips again with ravenous intent. She had mocked him about tiring out the first night she had arrived: so far, neither had been successful in breaking the other’s stamina.

“That’s better,” Calix groaned, remembering the loud and feral sound that vibrated through their lips as their breath was shared. “I can’t have my little starlight cold, now can I?”

Beatrice laughed and shook her head, cupping his cheeks in her hands, the short hair growing along his chiseled jaw rough beneath her soft fingertips. “Oh, no, we wouldn’t want that,” she purred, grinding her narrow hips against his in a slow, languid movement mimicking the tide rolling in.

A provocative mewl slipped from her bruised lips, spilling over Calix’s mouth as she kissed him again, her fingers hitching in the elastic waistband of his pajama pants, starting to tug them down when the door opened up, an amused Ryker standing in the doorway. Quickly tossing the blanket over her half-naked body, Beatrice squeaked and rolled off of Calix, burying her face in the pillows.

As the door opened, Calix flicked his wrist quickly. A shimmering screen formed in front of the bed, momentarily blocking the lovers from the rest of the world, as Calix pulled a blushing Beatrice under the covers and towards his firm chest.

“Knock next time, you git,” Calix hollered, sticking his tongue out and giving his younger brother the finger, the barrier of light twinkling out of existence.

Ryker, despite a huge grin, had the good grace to look away, mumbling an apology: “Sorry. I just thought you two might like some breakfast?” He raised the little, wooden tray in his hands, the smell of a traditional Irish fry wafting across the room.

Calix looked down at Beatrice, his stomach murmuring quietly, and wandlessly transfigured her clothing into something less revealing: “Thanks, buddy, that’s really sweet of you. Just next time…”

“Knock,” Ryker muttered, scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, sorry.”

Beatrice, a bright shade of red, previously only seen on Calix without sunscreen in Samoa, smiled politely at his brother and stood up to go get the tray. “I make one hell of an impression don’t I?” she joked weakly, unable to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, y-y-you do,” Ryker blushed, his skin turning cherry-red as Beatrice climbed over Calix, cheekily putting subtle pressure on her boyfriend’s stomach and waist. He stole a piece of toast from the tray as Beatrice took it, tactlessly plopping down on the end of Calix’s bed. “So, eh, do you guys have any plans for the day? Ones I haven’t fucked up.”

Calix scoffed, sitting up on the bed and throwing one of the pillows at him: “We do actually. We said we’d go into town today, didn’t we Bea?”

“Yeah. Get some last minute Christmas shopping out of the way,” she said, draping her legs elegantly across Calix’s lap, blowing the tendrils of steam off her coffee before taking a sip of it.

“Can I come with! Please!” Ryker begged, throwing puppy eyes at Calix and Beatrice. “I promise, I swear, I won’t bother you. Please?”

Beatrice looked over at her boyfriend with a small shrug, taking a bite of some oatmeal. “I don’t mind, if your brother doesn’t. But I was hoping to get you a gift, and I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” she said with a genuine smile.

“A gift?” Ryker asked shakily, his pleading glance recasting as a shocked look of confusion. “You’re getting me one? Why… No one other than Cal or Cass ever gets me gifts…”

“Of course you can join us,” Calix said quickly, attempting to lighten the mood, stabbing one of the rashers of bacon with a fork. “We’ll just have to charm you blind or something, so you can’t see what Bea’s buying, yeah?”

Ryker nodded timidly, throwing a grateful glance at Beatrice: “But, you’ll have to go blind when I go to get yours. Deal?”

She held her hand out and beamed at the younger wizard. “Absolutely,” she said, tugging the quilt up over her bare legs, tucking into a plate of poached eggs. “Would you terribly mind if we finish breakfast and meet you downstairs in like half an hour?” she asked, washing the delicious food down with her coffee. “I just need to eat and get changed.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll see you downstairs, okay?” Ryker said, smiling happily to himself. Calix could almost see the gears turning inside his head, thinking of a present for the witch. It hurt Calix to see his brother so moved by simple gestures.

When Ryker left the room, Calix turned towards Beatrice and softly kissed her on the cheek: “You’re amazing, you know that? Thanks for letting him tag along. You’re after making his day.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me for being a decent person,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder, wiping the crumbs off her upper lip. After watching his mother dismiss Ryker for the past few weeks, ignoring his existence in the household entirely. Though he was a pureblood squib, he didn’t deserve to be treated like a waste of space, and if all that she could do to help was to treat him like a human being, she would happily do so. “I just want him to be happy.”

“Decent people who want others to be happy are hard to come by, sometimes,” Calix mumbled, happily laying his head against Beatrice’s black curls. He wonder how he’d gotten so lucky, what strange astronomical event brought his starlight into his arms. He stretched out his hand for his wand, his fingers gripping the smooth wood. He raised his wand and silently cast colloportus on the bedroom door. If his girlfriend was getting changed, he wanted no more intrusion.

But, before that.

“By the by, just so you know, we’re finishing what we started.”

“Oh, are we?” she teased, wetting her lips down as she carefully set the tray of empty plates down on the floor beside the bed. It wasn’t like she was opposed to the idea, but Ryker walking in could have ruined the mood, though she was glad he didn’t.

“Oh, we most certainly are,” Calix smiled, shuffling lower in the bed. He softly placed his lips on Beatrice’s neck, nibbling gently on the skin above her collarbones, a trail of sweet, loving kisses tracing the curvature of the bones and the beating pulse. “Unless you want to do something else?”

She shook her head and smiled, knitting her fingers into his thick mane of hair, gently scraping her nails over his scalp. “I mean we do have half an hour to spare,” she breathed, arching her back off the bed. Closing her eyes, she chewed on her bottom lip and cast a quick silencing charm on the room before she got too involved. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do right now.:

“Let’s say three-quarters of an hour,” Calix growled, reversing his transfigurative magic and kissing downwards, “Ryker can wait a little.”

Calix pulled the soot-black coat over his shoulders, devilishly missing Beatrice’s warmth against his skin. Thoughts of an early night poked at his mind as he childishly came down the stairs, all smiles, and stepped into the sitting room. He looked around, the house eerily quiet the days Cassandra took his mother to St. Sorenson’s, spotting Ryker by the Christmas tree, staring blankly at the space beneath the bottom branches.

“Hey, buddy,” Calix said cheerfully, clapping his brother on the shoulder, “All set?”

Ryker flinched, a weak smile-twist to the corners of his mouth. He rubbed his hands together, unable to meet Calix’s eye and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m ready to go. Is Beatrice ready?”

“She’s just getting changed,” Calix chuckled, thinking their lateness was partly his fault and partly hers. “She shouldn’t be long, though.”

“Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“I am really, really sorry about this morning,” his brother sighed, “I really should’ve knocked.”

“Yeah, you really should have fucking knocked,” Calix laughed, his arm wrapping around Ryker’s thin neck and pulling him into a headlock, his knuckles tousling through the boy’s hair. “But, stop beating yourself up about it. It happened - move on, okay?”

Ryker struggling against his brother, a traitorous smile taking hold despite the embarrassed rigor: “It’s not you I’m worried about. It’s her.”

“Alright, alright, look, it happened, it’s not like it’s a big deal. It could’ve been a lot worse!”

“Cal, I flung the fucking door open and…”

Calix silenced his brother with a stern glare and a stern word: “And now, we’re all going to town. The three of us. Ry, you need to stop freaking out over it, okay? It was only a mistake.”

“I’ll try,” he mumbled, running his fingers through his mop of brown curls, “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry, I really am. But, can I ask you just one question?”

“Sure, Ry, anything. What’s on your mind?”

“What do I get her for Christmas?” Ryker queried pleadingly, his eyes falling back to the barren space awaiting the arrival of brightly coloured presents, “What do you get someone like Beatrice? Cal, I’m worried I’ll get it wrong! I can’t think of anything! She’s getting me something and I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“Woah, take a chill pill. What did we just say about freaking out?” Calix smiled, “We’ll think of something. I actually think I know exactly what you could get her.”

“Do you?” Ryker asked excitedly, before taking a deep breath, “It’s not expensive, is it? You know I don’t have a lot of money to spend.” “I’ll go halves with you, yeah? Just pick something small up as well, something that you thought of yourself. She likes you, buddy. And she’ll be thrilled no matter you get her.”

Ryker kicked his feet off the carpet, burying his hands in his pockets. “You think so? I’ve just been a thorn in your side since you came with her. She probably thinks I’m an annoying idiot like mom does.”

Knocking on the wooden white washed door frame leading into the living room, Beatrice smiled as she poked her head around the corner, having missed the discussion between the brothers while she got ready for the day. After things got off to a rather interesting start, she was excited to go out and finally get the last of the Christmas presents, having already sent her family’s out a week in advance so they would arrive in time.

“Everybody ready?” she asked, picking one of her long, black hairs off her creamy white knit turtleneck jumper, sequins sewn in the pattern of a reindeer with fairy lights bedecking its antlers glittering under the warm lights of the chandelier hanging overhead. She tugged at the collar of her jumper, pulling it up until it sat still under her chin, carefully covering up a few love bites she wasn’t able to charm away and that her makeup did a poor job of masking, a demure blush coating her cheeks.

“We’re good to go,” Calix smiled, looking down at his brother, who was blushing scarlet and nodding his head quickly up and down. He placed a strong hand reassuring on Ryker’s back, pushing him forward. “Go get your coat, Ry. You’ll need it in this cold.”

His brother didn’t move at first, his heels firmly rooted into the floorboards. The gentle insistence severed his connection though and Ryker stepped quickly past Beatrice, politely complimenting her jumper. Calix, protectively watching him slink away into the hall, beckoned Beatrice to his chest, her obvious attempts at subtle discretion not lost on him.

“I can make those go away if you’d like,” Calix chuckled, gently stroking her cheek and slipping his fingers inside the collar. “Then again, they are cute on you.”

She swatted his hand away playfully and smiled bashfully. “Then leave ‘em. At least for today. Tomorrow it’d probably be nice not to have to worry about Cass or your mom seeing anything,” she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the end of his nose before pulling away, lacing their fingers together as she stepped towards the front door. “Now, c’mon. We should get going before all the shops close today,” she teased, following after Ryker.

Calix held Beatrice’s small hand tight, his fingers eclipsing hers and his thumb rolling over the knuckles. He placed a warm kiss on her cheek, a cheeky nibble of agreement. “Might leave them till we get to school.”

Ryker was zipping up his jacket when they joined him, a woolen hat devouring the top of his head and gloves covering his slender fingers.

“So, do you want to walk there? Or apparate to McCarthy's?” Calix asked, looking between Beatrice and Ryker. “It’s completely up to you two.”

The Samoan witch smiled kindly at Ryker as she took her cloak down off the coat rack, wrapping the warm fur around her shoulders as she looked at the two Galen men. “I don’t mind either way. Up to you, Ry,” she said, hoisting her purse onto her shoulder beneath the black fabric.

“I suppose we can apparate,” he shrugged, “It’ll give us more time to shop around.”

“Alrighty,” Calix said, stretching out his hand for his brother to hold. Ryker took Calix’s free hand, his slender fingers clasped around his brother’s like a vice in fear of slipping loose during apparition and being splinched en route. Calix would never allow something like that to happen, but it’s hard to keep those thoughts at bay.

Holding hands, Calix closed his eyes and imagined McCarthy’s Magical Mysteries, a small shop tucked away in the back of a long alley, hidden from the Muggle world by charms and shields, a point of apparition for most wizards and witches. He imagined the vanilla-like smell of the old books, the leaves of paper yellow and spotted with age, imagined the ringing of the silver doorbell and the high, mahogany shelves filled with oddities and marvels from the four corners of the globe.

The air popped and fizzed as he concentrated, Calix’s ears ringing loudly as they landed softly in the shop. Calix slowly opened his eyes, checking Ryker first, then Beatrice, both looking comfortable by his sides.

“Let’s go!”

Grinning madly, Beatrice slipped away as soon as they were all clear. “I’ll meet you back here in 45 minutes,” she said, blowing a kiss at the handsome brothers before skipping away, her wild black curls bouncing with each jolly hop. She wandered close to the door and glanced back over her shoulder, checking to see if either of the mischievous and nosy men followed her as she chewed on her lip and debated whether or not to quickly duck out and try her luck shopping elsewhere. Though when looking outside at the arctic tundra the street had become, gales of freezing snow carrying a light snowdrift into the town, Beatrice swallowed tightly and looked up at the upper floors of the shop, thinking she might have some luck up there as she tip toed up the creaky wooden staircase.

“We’ve forty-five minutes, buddy,” Calix said, leading his brother out of the shop and into the blizzard of numbing wind. “That’ll be just enough time to get what we need for Beatrice and get back, then we go for lunch or something.”

“Sure,” Ryker nodded, pulling his hat down further as the biting wind snapped at his ears.

After a solid ten minutes browsing around the magical shop, Beatrice decided she might fare better elsewhere, having a good idea of what she’d like to buy Ryker, which she realized couldn’t be found there in town. I’ll only be a few minutes. Closing her eyes, she quietly blocked out the dusty shop she stood in and focused on the loud cacophony of noises, smells, and enchanted toys from her favorite store in Diagon Alley. With a loud pop, she disapparated across the pond to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in search of the perfect Christmas gift.

“Where is she?”

Calix looked around McCarthy’s worryingly, his grey eyes scanning the quiet rows between the shelves for the sight of his girlfriend’s black curls.

Nothing. No one.

“I’ve no idea, Ry,” Calix said, “She should be here. We did say forty-five minutes?”

“Yeah, we did,” Ryker nodded, clutching a small bag in his hands, his fingers agitatedly drumming on the brown paper and rattling the two gifts within. “What if she’s lost?”

“It’s Beatrice, Ry, she’s just apparate here or maybe home.”

I would hope.

Where are you, Bea?

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, the silver doorbell proclaiming two arrivals:

“Well, my, my, look who it is!”

Calix’s breath hitched in his throat, his blood running colder than the blustery wind laying frozen webs on the shop’s windows as the colour drained from his face. The voice, sickeningly sweet, called to him like siren-song. A song he wanted to ignore so badly.

He glanced over his shoulder towards the entrance. Ad, there she was. Standing in the doorway, her arm linking a young man Calix thought vaguely familiar, was Athena Millions, smiling like she always did.

“What are you doing here, handsome?” She asked, her blood-red heels clicking against the solid wooden floor with every pretentious stride, as she crossed the room, dragging her partner to her side. “It’s been so long. Last I heard, you’d gone away. Been away a lot recently, haven’t you, Calix? And Ryker! How’s the little squib?”

Ryker blanched, cowering behind Calix as his brother pulled him close, a fiery defense consuming his chest. Ryker feared her, for good reason and past experience; it was people like her, like his father, that branded him different.

“We’re all fine, Athena. We’re just waiting for someone,” Calix said through clenched teeth.

Beatrice reappeared with a loud pop, a wide grin on her winter kissed face, the chill bringing a lovely rosy color to her cheeks in the warm store. She smiled thoughtfully at Calix and slung an arm over his shoulders, pulling him close for a kiss, blissfully unaware of the bothersome couple stood in front of them. She grinned and shifted the weight of her numerous bags on her forearm, trying to redistribute the weight more evenly as she stood beside the Galen brothers, sneakily hiding the bag from Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes at the back of the bunch far away from Ryker’s prying, curious eyes.

“Hey, honey, I’m sorry I’m late! I kinda lost track of time. I ran into Lysander and Lorcan Scamander out with their parents and I had to stop and say hi,” she babbled, her thick, dark eyebrows knitting together in concern when she saw the harsh glare in his eyes and felt the tenseness of his muscles beneath his jumper.

“What’s wrong, pele?” she asked, turning to look at the handsome blonde duo in front of her, her blood running cold when she set eyes on Athena’s companion who smirked playfully as he took his time looking her over. “Thought that was my name, luv,” Cedwyn purred, winking playfully at the Samoan witch. “Or, at least it was until about a month ago.” The chiseled Welsh wizard narrowed his eyes at Calix, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he pulled his new girlfriend closer, his leather jacket strewn with white flurries melting in the warm shop glistening in the low lights.

Beatrice’s tight grip on Calix’s shoulders, and Ryker’s soft tug at the back of his coat, a small plea falling on deaf ears, stopped him from doing something he would regret. Cedwyn’s face incredibly looked punchable.

“Your name? A month ago?” Calix demanded, his sharp eyes fixating on the blonde wizard like an owl locking onto prey. The cruel smirk on his lips and the grating annoyance of Athena’s laughter, her red lips leaving a mark on the man’s cheek, brought the dark bile from the depths of his chest to the back of his throat, dragging with it an anger suppressed since Idorna.

“Are you saying this is what’s his face? You called him that a month ago?”

“‘What’s his face?’ Isn’t that a little harsh, Teuila?” Cedwyn asked, poking his tongue against the inner wall of his cheek in a highly suggestive manner that made Beatrice’s blood boil over, blue sparks of electricity crackling in her loosely wound coils of hair. She ground her teeth together and whipped out her wand, pointing it viciously at the man in front of her.

“You have no fucking right to ever call me that again, Cedwyn,” she hissed, a cloud of hexes swirling around inside her head, each one demanding attention as the opportunity presented itself to her. “And no, Calix, Mahana said that. My mother said that. Keise said that,” she listed off, her nose wrinkling with fury as she kept her eyes trained on the man who instinctively took a step back, having first-hand experience of her full wrath. “I do not dain to speak of somebody I’m more than happy to say is no longer a part of my life,” Beatrice said calmly, taking in a deep breath of air as she slid her wand back into the sleeve of her jumper when she heard the shopkeeper clear his throat.

“That’s a good girl, why don’t you put that little wand away before someone gets hurt,” Athena purred, snaking her arms around Cedwyn’s waist, “I mean, you did already hurt my little Ceddie so much. That letter of yours was nasty, wasn’t it, pet? You could’ve at least had the common decency to break up with him in person. But, no, you got your father to give him a letter - that’s sadistic isn’t it, Cal?”

“Cal, can we go, please? Please?” Ryker begged, pulling harder on the tail of his brother’s coat.

“I’m really not in the mood for your games, Athena,” Calix spat, taking Ryker’s hand reassuringly in his and mollifying Beatrice with a gentle glance, a cautionary look. He looked at Cedwyn, finally recognising the blond wizard from his year in Hogwarts. You’re the one I’m being compared to? Huh, if they could only see you now. “We were just leaving. And, I doubt Ceddie knows what you’re capable of yet. Almost feel sorry for him.”

“I just feel sorry for you, Cal,” Athena smiled, “If things go south here, you and I, Ceddie and Beatrice, we can take care of ourselves, but, poor little Ryker - would the squib be able to do anything? I mean, what if he got hurt in the crossfire. Not that we’d ever do something like that, would we?”

Beatrice swallowed a guttural growl and put on a sickly sweet smile, her common sense taking a back seat to watch though it tried to chime in with the voice of reason. Can’t we just leave? Do you really have to get the last word?

“And you’re calling me a sadist? I’m cruel for doing the right thing and breaking it off with a man I cared for so he could go be happy elsewhere and I could truly be with another whom I love with all my heart and soul? I’m a masochist for showing kindness to those who are weaker than I am?” Beatrice asked, taking a menacing step forward, the heel of her thick leather boots clicking against the wooden floor, watching with a sort of sickening glee as Cedwyn tried to pull Athena back. “Out of the two of us, you’d have me believe I’m the evil one?”

“Oh, honey,” Athena mewled, licking her red lips and winking at the Samoan witch who’d risen all too easily to her ministrations. “You did him a favour. He got away just in the nick of time.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Calix spat, catching Alistar McCarthy’s eye, the shopkeep raising his wand from behind the counter. “We’re leaving. Now. It’s an utter displeasure seeing you again, Athena. I hope you and this little jumped-up scarecrow will be happy. Watch your back, Ceddie, she likes to stab people.”

“Ceddie’s doing all the stabbing, if you catch my drift, Cal,” Athena laughed, a wicked sound that Calix remembered as once being blood-music in his ear. He wondered how he ever found her attractive, how he ever found a single redeeming quality in Athena Million’s corrupted soul. “Give my best to your parents. Oh, sorry, I meant just your mother.”

Beatrice cleared her throat and gently gestured for Ryker to leave the store after his brother, staying behind a second to gawk at the devilishly attractive couple. Running her tongue over her teeth, she nodded slowly and offered a small smile to her former lover. “It’s really wonderful to see you again, Cedwyn. And, Athena?” she took in a small sigh, the winter air fortifying her nerves as she drew back her hand and slapped the bottle blonde demon parading around in a pseudo-Greek goddess’s body. “It’s been truly terrible.” She smiled and stepped outside into the winter wonderland, listening to the high pitched screeches as Cedwyn attempted to restrain the harpy with the imprint of a bright red hand seared onto her cheek, watching with a small twinge of sadness as Beatrice waltzed away after the two brothers.

Calix, biting down hard on his tongue, snapped his fingers as they walked away, a glittering barricade forming in the doorway to McCarthy’s Magical Mysteries. He firmly guided Ryker away from the shop, stopping after a short distance to wait for Beatrice to catch up.

“Did you really just hit her?” Ryker asked, staring up at Beatrice.

The Samoan witch nodded and smiled simply as she caught up, walking at a leisurely albeit brisk pace. “After everything, I’ve heard about her, and my own experience back there, I can honestly say she had it coming,” she said, shaking out her stinging palm.

Ryker bounced on the balls of his feet, rushing across the snow-covered cobblestones and throwing his arms around Beatrice: “Thank you! She’s had that coming for years, didn’t she Cal? But, who was the other guy?”

Calix watched Athena pound at the shimmering shield, Cedwyn trying to restrain her fury. He had no idea what he was getting himself into, Calix thought. And, Beatrice, wonderful Beatrice, had just drawn the fury of his ex-girlfriend kicking and screaming back into the light of day, for not only her but Calix and their families. “She might have,” Calix mumbled, “But, let’s just get home, okay?”

Beatrice nodded and patted Ryker on the back, smiling up at the cheery, gangly boy beside her, joining up with Calix across the street, wrapping her arm around him as well as they strolled back towards Appletower Row. “Well, you see, Ry, once upon a time, I used to date that arsehole, but much like Athena, he wasn’t a great person who didn’t really deserve me or my time. So, when I met your brother, I knew he was a good man who was more than worthy of spending his life being cared for and loved by somebody who could actually do so,” she said, wistfully recounting the early days of their friendship and eventual romance like a Christmas tale befitting of the season. “And we will all live happily ever after.”

#script #Beatrice #Calix

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reviewsfeed-blog · 7 years

Text

Happy Friday folks! I hope you are all looking forward to a fabulous weekend!!

Today I am posting another Down the TBR Hole post, in an effort to clear out my Goodreads list of unwanted books. In case anyone needs a brush up on just what this tag entails:-

This meme was started by Lia @ Lost in a Story to clear out my reading list of unwanted books. Here is how it works:

Go to your Goodreads to-read shelf.

Order on ascending date added.

Take the first 5 (or 10 if you’re feeling adventurous) books

Read the synopses of the books

Decide: keep it or should it go?

Without further ado, here are the next ten books on the TBR:-

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch – Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Goodreads

According to The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch (the world’s only completely accurate book of prophecies, written in 1655, before she exploded), the world will end on a Saturday. Next Saturday, in fact. Just before dinner.

So the armies of Good and Evil are amassing, Atlantis is rising, frogs are falling, tempers are flaring. Everything appears to be going according to Divine Plan. Except a somewhat fussy angel and a fast-living demon—both of whom have lived amongst Earth’s mortals since The Beginning and have grown rather fond of the lifestyle—are not actually looking forward to the coming Rapture.

And someone seems to have misplaced the Antichrist…

To be honest, this book was a no-brainer before I even re-read the synopsis. I love Pratchett’s humour, and Neil Gaiman is also an esteemed author in his own right. Whilst I wasn’t so fond of American Gods as I’d have hoped, I did enjoy Stardust. This is an easy keeper for me!

Verdict: Keep!

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time – Mark Haddon

Goodreads

Christopher John Francis Boone knows all the countries of the world and their capitals and every prime number up to 7,057. He relates well to animals but has no understanding of human emotions. He cannot stand to be touched. Although gifted with a superbly logical brain, Christopher is autistic. Everyday interactions and admonishments have little meaning for him. Routine, order and predictability shelter him from the messy, wider world. Then, at fifteen, Christopher’s carefully constructed world falls apart when he finds his neighbor’s dog, Wellington, impaled on a garden fork, and he is initially blamed for the killing.

Christopher decides that he will track down the real killer and turns to his favorite fictional character, the impeccably logical Sherlock Holmes, for inspiration. But the investigation leads him down some unexpected paths and ultimately brings him face to face with the dissolution of his parents’ marriage. As he tries to deal with the crisis within his own family, we are drawn into the workings of Christopher’s mind.

And herein lies the key to the brilliance of Mark Haddon’s choice of narrator: The most wrenching of emotional moments are chronicled by a boy who cannot fathom emotion. The effect is dazzling, making for a novel that is deeply funny, poignant, and fascinating in its portrayal of a person whose curse and blessing is a mind that perceives the world literally.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time is one of the freshest debuts in years: a comedy, a heartbreaker, a mystery story, a novel of exceptional literary merit that is great fun to read.

This is a book I had heard of growing up, but it wasn’t until I understood what was special about it, i.e. that the main character is autistic that I added it to the list.

One of the ladies I used to work with has an autistic nephew, and I’m curious to take a moment and see things from an autistic child’s perspective. I think we could all benefit from gaining some understanding of autism and how people think differently on the whole! It is easy for people to be labelled nowadays, “fat”, “thin”, “simple” etc. I don’t want to use any further slurs, including race and religion because frankly, I don’t condone them. I acknowledge their existence here.

This book is also a keeper!

Verdict: Keep

Six of Crows – Leigh Bardugo

Goodreads

Criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker has been offered wealth beyond his wildest dreams. But to claim it, he’ll have to pull off a seemingly impossible heist:

Break into the notorious Ice Court (a military stronghold that has never been breached)

Retrieve a hostage (who could unleash magical havoc on the world)

Survive long enough to collect his reward (and spend it)

Kaz needs a crew desperate enough to take on this suicide mission and dangerous enough to get the job done – and he knows exactly who: six of the deadliest outcasts the city has to offer. Together, they just might be unstoppable – if they don’t kill each other first.

This is the first book I am resigning from the list. The synopsis sounds perfectly okay and readable, but doesn’t sound WOW! It lacks the pop, so it’s going to drop…

Verdict: Go

Sleeping Giants – Sylvain Neuvel

Goodreads

A girl named Rose is riding her new bike near her home in Deadwood, South Dakota, when she falls through the earth. She wakes up at the bottom of a square hole, its walls glowing with intricate carvings. But the firemen who come to save her peer down upon something even stranger: a little girl in the palm of a giant metal hand.

Seventeen years later, the mystery of the bizarre artifact remains unsolved—its origins, architects, and purpose unknown. Its carbon dating defies belief; military reports are redacted; theories are floated, then rejected.

But some can never stop searching for answers.

Rose Franklin is now a highly trained physicist leading a top secret team to crack the hand’s code. And along with her colleagues, she is being interviewed by a nameless interrogator whose power and purview are as enigmatic as the provenance of the relic. What’s clear is that Rose and her compatriots are on the edge of unraveling history’s most perplexing discovery—and figuring out what it portends for humanity. But once the pieces of the puzzle are in place, will the result prove to be an instrument of lasting peace or a weapon of mass destruction?

An inventive debut in the tradition of World War Z and The Martian, told in interviews, journal entries, transcripts, and news articles, Sleeping Giants is a thriller fueled by a quest for truth—and a fight for control of earthshaking power.

I remember adding this book to my TBR – what drew me to it was how different it was to anything else out there! I also like the idea of the story being chronicled in the manner of articles etc instead of prose.

Verdict: Keep

Join – Steve Toutonghi

Goodreads

What if you could live multiple lives simultaneously, have constant, perfect companionship, and never die? That’s the promise of Join, a revolutionary technology that allows small groups of minds to unite, forming a single consciousness that experiences the world through multiple bodies. But as two best friends discover, the light of that miracle may be blinding the world to its horrors.

Chance and Leap are jolted out of their professional routines by a terrifying stranger—a remorseless killer who freely manipulates the networks that regulate life in the post-Join world. Their quest for answers—and survival—brings them from the networks and spire communities they’ve known to the scarred heart of an environmentally ravaged North American continent and an underground community of the “ferals” left behind by the rush of technology.

In the storytelling tradition of classic speculative fiction from writers like David Mitchell and Michael Chabon, Join offers a pulse-pounding story that poses the largest possible questions: How long can human life be sustained on our planet in the face of environmental catastrophe? What does it mean to be human, and what happens when humanity takes the next step in its evolution? If the individual mind becomes obsolete, what have we lost and gained, and what is still worth fighting for?

I’m a little on the fence about this one. I’ve had to have a good long think about it.

I love the idea of the book exploring advancement in technology and individuality (or the lack of). I feel my reservations are the result of thinking the synopsis isn’t written all that well. I’m going to keep it tentatively based on potential.

Verdict: Keep

Three Parts Dead – Max Gladstone

Goodreads

A god has died, and it’s up to Tara, first-year associate in the international necromantic firm of Kelethres, Albrecht, and Ao, to bring Him back to life before His city falls apart.

Her client is Kos, recently deceased fire god of the city of Alt Coulumb. Without Him, the metropolis’s steam generators will shut down, its trains will cease running, and its four million citizens will riot.

Tara’s job: resurrect Kos before chaos sets in. Her only help: Abelard, a chain-smoking priest of the dead god, who’s having an understandable crisis of faith.

When Tara and Abelard discover that Kos was murdered, they have to make a case in Alt Coulumb’s courts—and their quest for the truth endangers their partnership, their lives, and Alt Coulumb’s slim hope of survival.

Set in a phenomenally built world in which justice is a collective force bestowed on a few, craftsmen fly on lightning bolts, and gargoyles can rule cities, Three Parts Dead introduces readers to an ethical landscape in which the line between right and wrong blurs.

Okay, so this was added to the list a year and a half ago. Looking at it now, I can say that my reading preferences have certainly changed. This doesn’t appeal to me anymore, so it’s off the list.

Verdict: Go

Doors of Stone – Patrick Rothfuss

Goodreads

The eagerly awaited third book of The Kingkiller Chronicle.

It is absolutely eagerly awaited – I love this series so far!

Verdict: Keep

Golden Age – James Maxwell

Goodreads

The discovery of a strange and superior warship sends Dion, youngest son of the king of Xanthos, and Chloe, a Phalesian princess, on a journey across the sea, where they are confronted by a kingdom far more powerful than they could ever have imagined.

But they also find a place in turmoil, for the ruthless sun king, Solon, is dying. In order to gain entrance to heaven, Solon is building a tomb—a pyramid clad in gold—and has scoured his own empire for gold until there’s no more to be found.

Now Solon’s gaze turns to Chloe’s homeland, Phalesia, and its famous sacred ark, made of solid gold. The legends say it must never be opened, but Solon has no fear of foreigners’ legends or even their armies. And he isn’t afraid of the eldren, an ancient race of shape-shifters, long ago driven into the Wilds.

For when he gets the gold, Solon knows he will live forever.

This book doesn’t appeal to me much at the moment. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure I could read it… I may even want to in the future, but I’m not feeling the love right now.

I’ll keep it because I bought a copy, but it’s not something I am likely to pick up in the near future.

Verdict: Keep

Children of Earth and Sky – Guy Gavriel Kay

Goodreads

From the small coastal town of Senjan, notorious for its pirates, a young woman sets out to find vengeance for her lost family. That same spring, from the wealthy city-state of Seressa, famous for its canals and lagoon, come two very different people: a young artist traveling to the dangerous east to paint the grand khalif at his request—and possibly to do more—and a fiercely intelligent, angry woman, posing as a doctor’s wife, but sent by Seressa as a spy.

The trading ship that carries them is commanded by the accomplished younger son of a merchant family, ambivalent about the life he’s been born to live. And farther east a boy trains to become a soldier in the elite infantry of the khalif—to win glory in the war everyone knows is coming.

As these lives entwine, their fates—and those of many others—will hang in the balance, when the khalif sends out his massive army to take the great fortress that is the gateway to the western world…

This synopsis really doesn’t say a whole lot about the book, in my opinion. Unless you are die-hard feminist and want to invest into special agent “doctors wife” – nothing stands out about these characters.

It’s a nope from me.

Verdict: Go

The Psychology Book – Nigel C Benson

Goodreads

Clearly explaining more than 100 groundbreaking ideas in the field, The Psychology Book uses accessible text and easy-to-follow graphics and illustrations to explain the complex theoretical and experimental foundations of psychology.

From its philosophical roots through behaviorism, psychotherapy, and developmental psychology, The Psychology Book looks at all the greats from Pavlov and Skinner to Freud and Jung, and is an essential reference for students and anyone with an interest in how the mind works.

I definitely have a kindle copy of this – and I am fairly sure I have read at least some of it. Psychology is a subject I am interested in and like to visit periodically, so I’ll keep.

Verdict: Keep

There you have it!

I only dropped three books of the list this time. I think now I am coming to books that I have added more recently (within the past year and a half or so) there will be less I drop off the list as my reading taste will be closer to it is now.

I’ll still benefit from reviewing, however, as you never know. Plus, doing so gets the books put on the ACTUAL reading list I work from.

Have you reviewed your TBR recently?

Down the TBR Hole is a tag designed to help clear Goodreads lists of unwanted books #bookblog Happy Friday folks! I hope you are all looking forward to a fabulous weekend!! Today I am posting another Down the TBR Hole post, in an effort to clear out my Goodreads list of unwanted books.

#bookblog #books #bookworm #downthetbrhole #fantasyst95 #reading list

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lswritings-blog1 · 7 years

Text

3 a.m.

Rain drizzled lightly onto the muted gray concrete. Gas station lights buzzed in the quiet of the way too early morning and the smell of grease and diesel fogged the air. Lilia leaned against her obnoxiously yellow car, one hand curled around the gas nozzle, the other shoved in her pocket. Three a.m. was much too late and much too early to be at a gas station. There was no other life to be seen, her only companions the moths bumping the white lights above her head. She rubbed her eyes with dirty knuckles. The blood speckling her fist seemed to burn. Her hand ached. There was fire in her mouth, ash in her throat. She choked on it. Coughed. Laughed bitterly. The pump clicked off. A moth landed on her black hair. Lilia waved it away with a scowl. Her hand throbbed. Night twinkled about her. The desert surrounded her. Nevada rain, so scarce, misted the air, kissed her skin. Highway, faded and pitted, rolled only a stretch of dead grass away. There was no flash of headlights, no glimmer of a vehicle in the dark. Only Lilia existed, a speck on a little patch of concrete dotted with splotches of dribbled gas and scraggly cactuses beneath a clouded night sky. Blue lights blinked lazily in the gas station windows. Lilia shoved the nozzle back into its holder, locked her car. Breeze, carrying drops of rain, dusted her bare knees. Her dress rustled about her thighs. It was yellow, once, a birthday present from her mother when she turned eighteen. Scuffing her sneakers on the wet tarmac, Lilia shot a look at the gas station. Light glowed butter-yellow within. The fluorescent blue sign flickered sluggishly. Advertisements peeled on the windows, faded with age. Moths spun about her face. She started walking. Bent her elbow and coughed. Embers in her mouth, burning her teeth. Ash clogging her throat. Bells jangled, cacophonous in the quiet drizzle and gentle buzz of lights, as Lilia pushed the glass door open. One bare glimpse of cracked linoleum and streaked glass coolers and she was on the ground, concrete pressing uncomfortably into her spine. Scalding coffee stained her dress. Sidewalk scraped her calves, summoned tiny pearls of blood. Fire, fire sparking on her tongue. Earnestly growing, consuming. Lilia glared up. There swayed a young woman, too tall, too bright. Empty coffee cup in her hand, apology in her smile. Lilia clenched at the concrete beneath her palms. Her fingertips cried out in protest. Sorry about that, said the woman. A grin, a flash of glimmering teeth. Her hair was viciously curly, vibrantly blue. Her hand stretched towards Lilia. She towered. Fire. Ash. Lilia tugged violently at her dress as she climbed to her feet, ignoring her hand. Coffee burned her nose. Anger rose like a wave. What the hell, demanded she, why did you do that? A cough. It was an accident. A spread of the hands. Soft smile, glint in the eye, easy slope of the shoulders. An accident. Like it was innocent, as if she was without fault. As though there was not coffee staining Lilia’s once-yellow dress. Lilia tightened her hands into fists. Ache spread through her knuckles. This dress was a present. Sharp, cutting. Fire. And the door’s glass, dumbass. You should’ve seen me. Rumble of the throat, splutter. Ash. I’m sorry. Honestly. Let me buy you something. Repressing the urge to punch her, an impulse constantly flitting through her fingers, Lilia followed the woman. Artificial air conditioning, stale and uncomfortable, swamped over her skin. Coolers droned. Bare white light burned her eyes. A cashier slouched behind a plastic counter. The woman’s knees wobbled, trembled a bit with every step. Strange clothes draped her shoulders. Her pale blue jacket shimmered oddly. A cheap coffee machine rattled. Styrofoam cups, a stack, tilted beside it. Do you want coffee? Lilia frowned, set her teeth. It was too cold, too artificial in the station. No. I don’t drink coffee, she spat. A blatant lie. She guzzled coffee regularly. There was an empty cup congealing in her obnoxiously-yellow car at that exact moment. A forced chuckle from the woman. It’s an acquired taste, she murmured in some kind of agreement, politely quirking her lips. Find something that suits you and I’ll buy it. Lilia tucked her hands beneath her crossed arms. Coughed up ash and flickers of flame. Tossed an angry look at the woman, stalked off to run her fingers over half-filled chip bags and off-brand candy. The coffee machine started to whine. Emotion twisted in her chest. Anger wrestled with blank impulsivity. She flexed her hand, watched the bruises tattooed across her knuckles writhe. God, she was so mad. Harvey, his idiotic friends, his pathetic lies. Hitting him had felt good. The vicious, blinding anger had felt good. He deserved what he had got. Harvey had always been so meek, so quiet and strange. Lilia couldn’t stand it. Ma’am? Breathy, damp with long-sufferance and too much politeness. Lilia growled. Lilia, she snapped. Blank face, glimmer of realization. A flick of blue nails through blue curls. Pretty name. I’m Cosmo. Lilia opened her mouth to retort, flame sparking on the tip of her tongue. The woman, Cosmo, snatched the bag of candy that hung forgotten in her hand. Strode away to the counter. Lilia dogged behind, dragged her toes over the cracked tile, rolled her shoulders. Dark eyes roved Cosmo’s back. What’s that ring on your finger? Lilia tapped her nail against the hem of her ruined dress, tried to peer around Cosmo to see the glittering ring that adorned her hand. Money, a great deal of it, glimmered back at her.

Harvey had given her a cheap copper band. Said it was all he could afford. Had kissed her on the cheek, smiled with wide blue eyes, and told her he loved her. Sparking stone disappeared into a deep pocket, returned with a wallet. Cosmo placed coffee and candy on the red plastic counter. Tired-eyed, the cashier scanned with a lazy twist of the wrist, mumbled out niceties and offered a bag. Barely a glance deigned their way. Ring-adorned hand closed about the coffee and painted blue fingers tossed candy a bit too forcefully into Lilia’s hands. Lilia frowned. Cleared her throat and felt the embers light, smoldering too hot. Bruised hands tightened around the bag of candy. Wedding ring, said Cosmo, pulling open the door, stepping out into a mist of rain. Looks expensive. It’s not. Embers seethed hotter, sparks popping and stinging her tongue. Cosmo infuriated her, her easy-spoken words, her blueness, her strange name that screamed my parents wanted to be unique. Outside, framed against a dark and wet night, she glowed. Coffee in one hand, light and dazzling diamond in the other. Lilia huffed. Rain spit from her lips. Fire started to blaze behind her grinding teeth. I suppose you live the perfectly normal married life. Lilia flicked her dark eyes, hunched her shoulders. Yanked her dress. Coffee-smell, now embedded deep in the once-yellow fibers, assaulted her nose. A chuckle, steeped in fondness. I wouldn’t say normal. But perfect, yes. Wind, stirring the wet air, buffeted her dress. Fire flicked between her lips. That must be so nice for you. Lilia hated this woman. She was almost as bad as lovesick Harvey, stumbling on her heels, pleading for her to stay. Sloped shoulders rolled. Cosmo’s eyes were strange. Kaleidoscope, glittering colors woven together, deep wells of star fire. They unnerved her. Lilia wondered why she hadn’t looked in them earlier. She thought they should be blue too. Have a good night, Lilia. A tilt of the lips. Coffee cup raised in a half gesture of goodbye. Disappointment, anger on her face. Drive safe. You have no right to judge me, snarled Lilia. You don’t know me. I didn’t say anything. Your face is easy to read. Lilia stood tall against suddenly fiery eyes. Mist dampened her cheeks. But inside her there was a bonfire, crackling in her throat, ready to be let out. Anger was a delicious feeling. It swamped her body, filled her veins. Adrenaline kicked, pounded. I come to earth for the first time since the kids were born and I meet you. Cosmo was right before her, mere inches between them. Blue light flashed across her skin. Ire flared dangerously in her eyes. People are the reason I hate this planet. What the hell do you mean? Earth, growled Cosmo. Hands flew exasperated through the rain. This planet is depraved. Thunder rumbled overhead. Desert sky cracked with lightning and rain began to slam the concrete. It streaked their faces. You’re insane! Lilia spit. Fire screamed from her throat and burst from her lips. You’re completely and totally insane! Her body sung with anger. It felt so good, so deliciously wonderful. It felt like punching Harvey again, like seeing his sad, bruising face watch her drive away. She floated on the fury in her veins. A strange smile rose on her lips and Lilia locked eyes with Cosmo. Blue, blue, blue. In a swirl of color, Lilia was pressed against the brick of the station. Cosmo’s fingers dug into her shoulder. Are you religious, Lilia? Yes. She’d gone to church every Sunday as long as she could remember. She glared at Cosmo, too close, wet breath stirring the few inches between them. You believe in gods, then. I believe in the God. Lilia spit blazing fire. Cosmo laughed, bitter and sharp. The sound made Lilia’s skin burn. Loose, feral smile still on her lips, she tightened her fists and swung. Her fist was caught before the blow could ever land. Cosmo twisted her arm easily, harshly, dropped her to the soaked concrete. Yellow fabric drank puddles eagerly. Lilia made no sound, fire quenched by wet. I am a goddess of the goddamn universe, snapped Cosmo. And you are an ass. Lilia turned to face the blue woman. Cosmo snatched her coffee cup from where it hung suspended by her head and promptly disappeared.

Story by Lucy Schermerhorn, 2017

~I know this is a little rough but I hope you enjoy! Tell me what you thought :)

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