#menace and rage and defiance
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Abandon All Hope
Tortured by the Devil himself!
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POV: You are Sukuna's Vessel 5
Warnings- smut
wc- 2.3k
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6 | Part 7
You awaken, free from pain and aches, but find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. Everything is bathed in a deep red hue, and a sense of unease washes over you. As you sit up, confusion clouds your thoughts. In the distance, you notice something immense—a Tower of Skulls—with Sukuna perched atop it.
Your heart quickens, and adrenaline surges through your veins. With determination, you rise and begin to advance towards the tower, driven by urgency.
"You fucker," you call out, your voice trembling with anger upon seeing him.
As you draw closer to the tower, you see Sukuna seated on a throne, his head propped on his hand. His gaze meets yours, a chilling smile playing on his lips.
"Don't look at me without my permission, brat. I hate it," he growls, his voice filled with menace. "Bow down before me," he orders.
Disobeying him, you inquire, "Where am I?"
"In my domain," Sukuna says, his voice sending chills through your body. "Malevolent Shrine. So you better be obedient and do what I say."
"How did I end up here?" you demand, glaring at him.
"Because you attempted to end your own life, brat," he retorts, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I couldn't allow you to perish, not yet," he continues, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Not until you learn the consequences of your actions."
You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you gaze at him. Summoning your courage, you take a deep breath, your voice quivering with anger. "Come down here, asshole," you command firmly. "I refuse to serve you, now or ever," you declare, your eyes flashing with defiance.
Sukuna chuckles, a cruel sound resonating through the shrine."You think you are brave enough to insult me?" he says, his voice laced with amusement. "Moreover, you broke the deal that we made."
In a surge of fury, you snatch up a skull, your rage propelling your actions. With all your might, you hurl it towards Sukuna. Swiftly, he leaps from his perch, landing atop you with a mocking laugh.
"Ouch!" you cry out, the impact stealing your breath.
"You don't get to disobey me, vessel," Sukuna snarls, pinning you to the ground and pressing your face into the bloody puddle.
Within a few seconds, he lets go of your head, letting you breathe again. "Get off me!" you yell, struggling beneath him.
"You will listen to me, vessel," he says, his voice cold. "Or I will make sure you regret it," he adds, his eyes gleaming with malice.
You struggle, but he is too strong; your efforts are futile.
"As I was saying, this is my innate domain. In other words, you are not dead yet. You missed your vital spot, so I was able to take over your unconscious body and heal it," he says, looking down at you.
"You're heavy," you remark, trying to deflect.
Sukuna releases you, grasping your neck to force eye contact. "You broke our deal by not allowing me to take over your body whenever I want," he says, staring daggers at you.
You study him intently, noting his imposing presence: the pink spikes of his hair standing tall, tattoos and markings adorning his forehead, nose, cheeks, and torso. He's wearing a white robe, the cloth flowing around him.
"Do you like what you see?" Sukuna asks, his voice mocking, "I look like a god, don't I?" he adds, a silly smirk playing on his lips.
"You're still an asshole," you retort, your voice shaking with anger.
"And I'm still the owner of your body, and do you know what happens to those who break the rules?"
You roll your eyes, your anger growing again.
Suddenly, Sukuna's hold on your neck tightens, cutting off your air supply. You fight against him, your chest burning for oxygen. Gasping desperately, your vision blurs.
Summoning your last reserves of strength, you manage to land a kick on his jaw, momentarily loosening his grip.
His eyes blaze with rage as he growls, "You insolent wretch," his voice seething with fury.
In a whirlwind of movement, you find yourself seated upon the throne, Sukuna's hands firmly gripping your waist, his eyes narrowed with unbridled anger.
"Remember, this is my domain," he growls.
Your heart races; panic is surging through you. "Release me," you demand, your voice trembling with fear.
Sukuna's smirk widens, malice glinting in his eyes. "Not so easily," he retorts, his tone chillingly indifferent.
You are now stuck with Sukuna, as he keeps you pinned against him, his hand tightly wrapping around your waist.
With a low growl, Sukuna's hands reach down to your pants. His fingers are brushing against your skin, your breath hitches, and your body is tense with anticipation. You try to push him away, your heart racing.
Sukuna smirks, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I've been waiting for this moment, Sama." His voice is low and seductive, sending chills down your spine. He chuckles darkly, his hands tightening their grip on your waist, before he pulls you closer, devouring your lips in a passionate yet rough kiss. His tongue dances with yours, dominating you completely as he takes control of your body, moving it according to his will.
"I know all your sweet spots," he whispers against your lips, letting you catch your breath for a moment before he yanks your pants off you.
You gasp as he slides his finger over your clit. "I am also aware of your virginity and how quickly you get wet," he chuckles, striding his tongue against your neck. Your mind keeps on wondering how he knows all this.
He leans down, yanking off your top and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.
Sukuna grins, pushing a finger inside of you gently, watching as you twitch and moan softly. "Oh, look how you are so wet for me." He coos against your ear, thrusting his finger deeper into you. You squirm in his grip, but he holds you firmly.
"Ah, I am hitting the right spot, am I not?" he asks, intentionally wanting to get a reply from you.
"N-no, not at all. Your nails.. They-," you lie.
"Quit lying, you like the sensation of my sharp nails gazing at your walls; I can read your mind; don't forget that you are in my domain," he thrusts another finger, making you whimper. He chuckles darkly, increasing the pace of his fingers.
"Trust me, I can see through your mind right now." He murmurs, his eyes gleaming with lust. His hands then move to your nipple, twisting and pulling, causing you to whimper into his shoulder. "Hmm. Gotta ruin your tough personality," he whispers as he thrusts his fingers faster, making you writhe in his grip.
You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him, desperate for release. "Nah, uh, you need to beg for it," Sukuna smirks, his finger sliding out of you, his eyes never leaving yours.
You try to think of something else, but your mind keeps on reminding your body about the pleasure it was feeling from his fingers.
He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Say it aloud; I want to hear it, though I already know what you want by reading this filthy mind of yours." He says, sliding his fingers back into you, twisting and pulling them, making you moan loudly.
"Please let me, Cum," you gasp, your eyes wide with a mix of pain and pleasure.
"Hmm? Already started begging? You are not as tough as I thought you would be. Guess, I am hitting your right spots," he mocks, bruising your sweet spot again and again.
Suddenly, his fingers leave you abruptly, making you whine in protest. You were so close, but he stopped. He laughs, still holding you firmly against him. "This is a punishment; I can't give you pleasure. Can I?"
He turns you so that he can see your face clearly, and your hands unconsciously wrap around his neck. "If you really want to cum so badly, then do it on cock," he said, his voice low and seductive, causing shivers to run down your spine.
"I don't need it from you," you lie, trying to sound tough but failing miserably as you can feel his laughter resonating in your ears.
"Oh, come on, I know you want it; your body is begging for it," he laughs, his lips trailing down your neck. "Your body is so slutty, you know that?" he asks, his hands roaming your back and your hips.
You shake his hold on you, trying to break free, but he grips you tighter. "Quit lying, I told you I can read your mind," Sukuna chuckles, his lips against your ear. "You really look good with that short hair," he whispers, his fingers tangling around your hair. "I apologise; if you truly care about your hair, it will grow back."
"Shut up, I hate you so much," you try to say.
"Kiss me then; let me fix us," he smirked.
You glare at him, but he doesn't seem to care. Instead, he pulls you closer, your lips brushing against his. His lips are soft against yours, and his tongue darts out to trace the line of your lips. You groan softly, your defenses crumbling. His lips press harder against yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, claiming it as his own. This time he kisses you thoroughly, his hands roaming your body and touching your every sensitive spot.
"Don't you want to feel the king of curses's cock inside you?" he whispers against your lips, his hands cupping your breasts. You moan softly, feeling his hands on your breasts, causing you to shiver in pleasure.
"I-I don't need that," you stutter, your body betraying you as it moves against him.
"Don't lie; you know you do," Sukuna murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "You are already imagining me fucking your little pussy, mhm." He chuckles darkly, his hands roaming your back, causing you to feel embarrassed.
"Stop reading my mind." Your hands travel to close his eyes. "I don't want your dirty cock inside me," you resist.
"Then why are you grinding against it? Why do you envision me fucking you?" he gently moves your hands from his face to his cock. "Can you feel it throbbing?"
You jolt at its thickness and say, "I-impossible."
He chuckles, a low rumble in his chest that vibrates against you. "Is it?" His hands slide down your body, pulling your pants off. "Don't worry, you are loose enough," he murmurs, guiding your hands against his hard shaft. "Are you telling me you don't want this?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
You bite your lip, your body betraying you as your hips rub against him. He chuckles evilly and says, "I want to hear you. Tell me you want this inside you."
You hesitate for a second, your eyes wide with confusion and desire. "I think, I do," you stutter, your hands gripping his robe tightly. Sukuna chuckles, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"Is that so, little slut? Fine, let's see how you react," he says, his hands pulling your legs apart. His cock slides against your clit, causing you to gasp and moan.
"Please…" you whisper, your eyes pleading. "Please, what?" he asks, and he continues teasing your clit. "P-put it inside," your eyes pleading with him.
Sukuna's smirk never leaves, his eyes gleaming with victory as he positions himself at your entrance. He thrusts inside you, making you gasp and arch your back.
"Yes, that's it; take it," he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. You moan loudly, your hands tugging on his robe. "Good vessel, take it all," he praises you, thrusting in and out of you.
You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him. "Hmm, nice and tight," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Tight as I thought you would be." You whimper, your eyes wide with pleasure and pain.
Sukuna chuckles darkly, his thrusts becoming faster and harder. "Where is the fierce girl you used to be?" he mocks, his nails digging into your hips. You moan softly, your body writhing under his touch.
He kisses your neck and, with his fingers, your hair. "I'll make sure you never forget this," he growls, his hips thrusting faster. You moan loudly, your hips buckling against him. His thrusts become faster and harder, and your body shudders under his touch. He bites your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "Do you know, get it, who's the owner of this body?" he growls, his eyes gleaming with lust.
"Yeah," your voice quivering with every demonic thrust.
"You look so good, taking my cock, so submissive," he murmurs, thrusting harder. His words send shivers down your spine, his cock sliding in and out of you, making you whimper. "I can feel your walls trembling around me," he growls, his hands wrapping around your neck.
You whimper, your body shaking terribly, your toes curling.
"Cumming already?" he asks mockingly, his hips thrusting harder.
"A-ah, I-I," you gasp, your body betraying you. You arch your back, your body quivering as you reach your climax. Sukuna groans loudly, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
"This body, these breasts, this pussycat—every inch of your body belongs to me," his low growl echoing through your ears, his cock pulsing inside you. He thrusts deeper, his orgasm coming hard, filling you up. He gives you a peck, and your body is still quivering from the experience.
"Now you know who owns this body," he mocks, his hands running down your body. "Next time, don't dare to deny me." You nod weakly, your body still under the effect of the intense climax. He smirks, slowly pulling himself out of you, his cock sliding out of your body.
You pass out, slumping against him. Sukuna chuckles ominously, his eyes bright with triumph.
TAGLIST: @moonlightazriel @unholiiness @nyxlai @cocoaxbunny @persephone-lilly @iraa567 @rabbidbunwy @sweetchildcloud @lotus-n-l0ve @smashhed @imhellakawai @loveoreos @selfloverrrrrr @matchainthemorning @freckledmuffin @palegardenrebel @hellomeow12 @rowrowrowyourboat13
Dividers from @cafekitsune
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#jujutsu kaisen ryomen#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk ryomen#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#jjk sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna ryomen#itadori yuji#itadori yuji x reader#yuji itadori x reader
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Obsessed with elderly cat Nightberry so crushed by grief and rage she kills a fox that is bigger, stronger and has more battle experience than her! Also Pinepaw ripping Hacksaw's wing~ Pine & Night rage!!!
Ranger finding the way to have his little revenge is so fun, too!
And in contrast, Cormorant choosing to chase off his murderous semi-friend rabbit because he's tired of killing...
Our no-good uncle reveal is amazing, and I love how menacing he looks in the last frame, despite (or perhaps because!) he hid himself from his family and was dissociating in the back of Defiance's army.
Also R.I.P. his raccoon friend?
Slugpelt being attacked by Cupid and killing him was also so good - but I wonder if Rainhaze will even notice or care, with how far gone he seems.
I can see why Nightberry is Like That in one of your human AUs drabbles!
In the goblin fridge, I've been putting up little descriptions for each issue, and Issue 36's was:
So I'm glad that theme was picked up on!
Nightberry is a vicious old lady and no one should ever underestimate her.
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can you write bully heeseung (or any other member if you want) with reader? like he is always nice to everyone and no one believes that someone as sweet as him would bully someone. but he bullies reader a lot and actually likes her. can you also make him like REALLY mean if you can
Thanks for requesting!!!!
In the bustling halls of Gwangyang High, Heeseung was adored by all. His smile was as radiant as the sun itself, his charm captivating. To everyone else, he was the epitome of kindness, but to you, he was a venomous presence, a yandere masked in sweetness.
Despite the facade, his affection for you was twisted, expressed through cruel taunts and relentless bullying. You were the only one who saw through his façade, the only one to witness his true nature.
Every day was a new torment orchestrated by Heeseung, his words cutting deeper than any blade. Yet, amidst the pain, you refused to see his actions as anything but cruel and unjustifiable. You saw no affection in his twisted behaviors, only malice.
"Why do you do this to me?" you demanded one day, your voice trembling with anger and frustration as you confronted him after another round of humiliation.
Heeseung's smile remained unnervingly calm as he looked at you, his eyes gleaming with a possessive fervor. "Because, darling, you belong to me. And I won't let anyone else have you."
His words sent a chill down your spine, the implications of his possessiveness filling you with disgust. You refused to be anyone's property, least of all his.
As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, the torment only seemed to intensify. Heeseung's jealousy grew into a consuming obsession, his actions becoming increasingly erratic and dangerous.
One day, after catching you talking to another boy, Heeseung's jealousy erupted into violence. He cornered you in a deserted hallway, his fists clenched with rage as he advanced towards you.
"You think you can talk to other guys behind my back?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom as he grabbed you roughly by the collar. "I'll make sure they never look at you again."
With a sickening sense of dread, you realized the depth of Heeseung's obsession. His love was not sweet, but poisonous, a dangerous obsession that threatened to consume everything in its path.
"Please, Heeseung, stop," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled against his grip.
But Heeseung's rage knew no bounds. With a vicious snarl, he delivered blow after blow, each one landing with the force of a sledgehammer.
As you lay bruised and broken on the cold tile floor, Heeseung leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Remember this," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "If you ever so much as look at another guy again, I'll kill them. And then I'll kill you."
Tears stung your eyes as you watched him walk away, his footsteps echoing ominously in the empty hallway. You were trapped, caught in the tangled web of his twisted love, with no hope of escape.
But deep down, beneath the fear and despair, a spark of defiance flickered to life. You refused to be a victim, refused to let Heeseung's cruelty define you.
And so, with each passing day, you vowed to fight back against the darkness that threatened to consume you, to break free from the shackles of Heeseung's toxic love, and reclaim your life from the sweet venom that had poisoned it.
#enhypen#enhypen scenarios#enhypen story#enhypen fic#enhypen yandere#soireegurl#yandere#heeseung yandere#enhypen heeseung#heeseung#heesung enhypen#lee heesung x reader
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Can I ask for an imagine since there's almost none here pls?🙏🏻
So, in this one, gn!reader has beefs with their dad because he is very rude to them and a very mentally unstable man. Usually they spend a lot of time with joel because they like his company a lot and he's so good to them, they kind of wishes he was their dad. One time, they go to joel's house very sad, saying something happened home. Joel is not surprised, he knows the dick of a father this kid has. But now is different, reader says their father threatened them, and now joel knows the shit is getting real here. He asks, just by confirmation, what reader wanted to change the situation. Reader says all they wanted was their dad out of their life so they could have peace in jackson. Joel remembers he has patrol next morning with this man, and now he knows he has to do...something about it. Kiddo isn't asking much, after all.
Home, sweet home | Joel Miller x gn!kid!reader
Warnings: Cussing, neglectation, abuse, mentions of cigarettes, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood
Summary: You’re seeking support from Joel, whom you view as a father figure, after your mentally unstable father threatens you. Joel decides to take action during his patrol with your father to ensure your safety and peace in Jackson
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The tension in the air was palpable as you entered your father's house, the familiar scent of stale cigarettes and cheap whiskey assaulting your senses. You knew what awaited you – another confrontation, another argument with the man who was supposed to be your dad.
Your relationship with your father had always been strained, marred by years of bitter arguments and hurtful words. You longed for a father who would offer guidance and support, someone like Joel.
But as you stepped into the dimly lit living room, the atmosphere shifted from tense to volatile. Your father's eyes bore into you with a mixture of anger and resentment, his lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. "Where the hell have you been?" Your father growled, his voice dripping with contempt.
Your heart sank as you braced yourself for yet another confrontation. You had spent the night at Joel’s house, seeking refuge from the toxic environment of your father’s home.
“I was out” you replied tersely, your voice tinged with defiance
Your father's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "You think you can just come and go as you please? You think you can disrespect me like that? Why can’t you be more like Tommy or Maria? They’re a responsible and useful people who unlike you don’t waste the oxygen on this Earth. You’re nothing, but a waste of time and energy!" You felt a surge of frustration and fear coursing through you as you locked eyes with your father. "Then why the fuck did you even have me, you asshole?!" you shot back, your voice rising in anger. Without warning, your father lunged forward, his hand snaking out to grab a nearby glass. Your heart pounded in your chest as you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation.
"You ungrateful little brat" your father spat, his voice laced with venom. "You think you can talk back to me? You think you can defy me in my own fucking house?" Your pulse quickened as your father's anger escalated, the air thick with tension and fear. You knew you had pushed him too far, that your words had ignited a firestorm of rage. With a sudden, violent motion, your father hurled the glass against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. You flinched instinctively, your heart racing as you stared at the shattered remnants of your father's anger.
"Get the fuck out, you worthless piece of shit!" their father growled, his voice low and menacing. "Get out before I’ll beat the shit out of you, you stupid ass fuck!" Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at your father, your mind reeling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. You knew you had to leave, to escape the toxic environment of your father's house before it consumed you whole.
Without a word, you quickly got up and fled from the house, your heart heavy with sorrow and regret. You knew you could never change your father, could never mend the broken relationship that lay shattered at your feet.
As you made your way to Joel’s house, a heavy weight settled in your chest, dragging you down with each step. The events of the evening replayed in your mind like a broken record, the echoes of your father’s anger still ringing in your ears.
When you finally reached Joel’s doorstep, your heart felt heavy with sorrow and despair. You knew you could always count on Joel for comfort and support, but tonight, your burden felt too heavy to bear alone. Joel opened the door, his expression softening as he took in the sight of your tear-stained face. Without a word, he stepped aside, silently inviting you inside.
You stepped into the warmth of Joel’s house, the familiar scent of woodsmoke and leather enveloping you like a comforting embrace. You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as tears threatened to spill over.
Joel sat down beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions raging inside your heart. He didn’t need to ask what had happened – he could see the pain etched in every line of your face.
“Hey kid,” Joel said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “You wanna talk about it?” You shook your head, unable to find the words to articulate the turmoil churning inside you. All you could think about was the look of hatred in your father’s eyes, the sharp sting of his words cutting you to the core.
Joel didn’t press for answers, sensing that you needed time to process your emotions. Instead, he reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity and support before wrapping you in a blanket and getting you a hot cocoa.
For hours, you both sat in silence, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire burning in the hearth. You found solace in Joel’s presence, his steady presence a comforting reminder that you were not alone in your pain so you decided to bring him into what happened, telling him about the glass accident, hurtful words and the threatening from your father. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as Joel listened, his jaw clenched with simmering anger. He had known that your father was trouble, the whole town did, but the gravity of the situation hit him like a punch to the gut
“So, what do you want to do about it?” Joel asked, his voice low and measured. He had to tread carefully – he didn’t want to scare you off with talk of your father, but he couldn’t just sit back and do nothing either, you hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands folded in your lap. “I just… I want him out of my life,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to feel safe, Joel.” The raw vulnerability in your voice tugged at Joel’s heartstrings, igniting a fierce protectiveness deep within him. He wanted nothing more than to make things right for you, to rid your life of the toxic influence of your father once and for all.
As the night wore on, your exhaustion finally caught up with you, your eyes growing heavy with sleep. With a gentle nudge, Joel led you to the guest room, tucking you in with a warm blanket and a soft pillow. “Get some rest, kid,” Joel murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby, but his mind was already running wild as he remembered that tommorow morning he has a patrol with this shit called your ‘father’ and Joel knows damn well that he’ll do anything to protect his family, even if you’re not blood related, he doesn’t give a fuck he’ll protect you and make sure you won’t have to go through this hell again. You are his family since the first day of when Ellie brought you here when you were younger and he saw how your father behaves towards you, he already felt protective of you back then and now with that old man threatening you? Hell nah, the least he’ll do is have a conversation with him.
You drifted off to sleep, your dreams haunted by memories of your father’s anger and your own sense of helplessness. But in the warmth and safety of Joel’s house, you found sanctuary from the storm raging outside. “I’ll make sure he never hurts you again.” Joel whispered knowing you’re asleep as he gave you a small fatherly kiss on the cheek.
The next morning, Joel’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets of Jackson as he made his way to the rendezvous point for his patrol with your father. His mind raced with thoughts of what he was about to do, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.
As he approached the designated meeting spot, your father came into view, his presence casting a dark shadow over the sunny morning. Joel’s fists clenched at his sides, a surge of anger coursing through his veins as he remembered the fear in your eyes. “Morning” your father greeted him with a sneer, his tone dripping with contempt. “Ready to patrol, old man?” Joel forced a tight smile, his stomach churning with revulsion at the sight of the man standing before him. “Yeah, let’s get this over with,” he replied through gritted teeth.
For hours, they walked the perimeter of Jackson in silence, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife. Your father made small talk, but Joel barely registered his words, his mind consumed with other thoughts.
Finally, as they reached the outskirts of town, Joel’s patience reached its breaking point. He turned to face your father, his expression steely with determination. “We need to talk,” Joel said, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. Your father raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from amusement to suspicion. “What’s this about, old man?” he asked, his tone tinged with arrogance. Joel took a step forward, his gaze boring into your father with unwavering intensity. “You need to leave,” he said firmly. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”
Your father scoffed, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “And who’s gonna make me, huh? Are you trying to scare me away ‘cause that bitch of mine told you to? They’re mine property, old man. I get to do whatever I want with them” he taunted, taking a step closer to Joel. “Whatever I want” he repeated.
Without hesitation, Joel lunged forward, his fist connecting with your father’s jaw with a satisfying thud. The force of the blow sent your father stumbling backwards, his eyes widening in shock. Joel despite being older is advanced at fighting, his movements fluid and controlled as he unleashed a flurry of punches, each one landing with deadly accuracy. Your father fought back, but Joel was relentless, his rage fueling his every move.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your father lay crumpled on the ground, blood oozing from a split lip and more blood covering his face. Joel stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion as he glared down at the man who had terrorized you for far too long. “You’re done here,” Joel growled, his voice low and menacing. “You hear me? If I ever see you near Y/N again, I won’t hold back. Not again” With that, Joel kicked him in the stomach and walked away, leaving your father lying battered and broken on the ground. As he made his way back to Jackson, Joel felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him – he had done what needed to be done to protect the ones he cared about.
As dawn broke on a new day, you awoke to the sound of birdsong filtering through the window. You rose from bed, your heart heavy with the weight of the previous night’s events unaware that Joel made sure this won’t ever happen again.
But as you made your way to the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of Joel’s quiet humming greeted you like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of Joel’s presence filling you with a sense of hope and renewal.
“Morning, kid,” Joel greeted you with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners with affection. “You sleep okay?” You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, thanks to you,” you replied softly, your voice filled with gratitude as you saw a letter that Tommy and Maria signed that gives Joel the right to legally take you under his wing if you’d want to.
Joel poured you a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air with warmth and comfort. As you sat down at the kitchen table, you felt a sense of peace settling over you like a blanket. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth and love of your makeshift family, you knew that you would find the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And with Joel by your side, you knew you would never have to face them alone.
#request#imagine#tlou#tlou2#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#tlou game#the last of us 1#the last of us#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#the last of us x y/n#joel miller#joel miller tlou
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eternal enmity — edward cullen x reader
☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genres: potential somnophilia in a non-sexual way — angst, fluff
˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
synopsis: in the clandestine world of vampires, two rival families have held a bitter feud for centuries. the cullens, known for their discipline and compassion, stand in stark contrast to your enigmatic and powerful (l/n) clan, whose members embrace their primal instincts. as tensions escalate between the families, you and edwars find yourselves drawn to one another against all odds.
✧.*
in the moonlit heart of a world veiled in shadows, where ancient rivalries thrived like whispered secrets, two beings from disparate bloodlines met under the cover of night. edward cullen, his porcelain skin glistening like ethereal marble in the pale glow, stood at the edge of the forest clearing, his amber eyes reflecting a lifetime of restraint. on the opposing side of destiny's divide, you stood there, your mesmerizing figure with eyes the color of midnight and an aura of undeniable power, emerged from the dark expanse, the air around you charged with a tension that transcended your individual lives. in that fleeting moment, as your eyes locked across the divide that had severed your families for ages, the world itself seemed to hold its breath, as if aware that the threads of your fate were destined to intertwine in a way that could either mend or shatter the fragile fabric of your world.
“i thought you knew better than to come onto my property.” you scoffed at his words, your voice a mixture of defiance and curiosity. the moonlight danced upon your skin, casting ethereal patterns that seemed to mirror the intricate complexities of the choices that had brought you here. “these forests will never have anything of yours cullen,” your eyes glimmered with an unexplicable spark. “except maybe your spillt blood, in due time.” edward's lips curled into a half-smile, a gesture that held a hint of both amusement and frustration.
“i was hoping you'd say that—so hostile,” he replied, his voice a melodious blend of velvet and vulnerability. he took a cautious step closer, the tension between you palpable, as if the magnetic pull between your opposing worlds was too strong to resist. “we've danced around this rivalry for centuries, but isn't it time we questioned the reasons behind it?”
your heart raced, torn between the teachings of generations and the enigmatic pull of the present moment. you had been raised to view the cullens as adversaries, as a symbol of all that your family fought against. yet, the way edward's eyes bore into yours seemed to speak of a shared longing for something more than the enmity that had defined your existence.
“if by reasons, you mean your great-grandfather sacrificing mine, then sure,” you retorted, your voice dripping with scorn. the weight of your family's history bore down on you, fueling a fire of anger and determination. you took a menacing step closer, your gaze never wavering from edward's.
he sighed, his expression a mix of regret and understanding. “i won't deny the past, the mistakes that were made. but dwelling on the actions of our ancestors only perpetuates the cycle of hatred. we have the power to forge our own path, to choose a different fate.”
your patience had worn thin, and his words ignited a storm of rage within you. with a sudden burst of energy, you lunged at him, your fists connecting with his chest. the element of surprise worked to your advantage as you watched him slam into the various trees that surrounded you. the moonlight illuminated the battle, casting erratic shadows across the clearing.
edward managed to deflect some of your blows, his reflexes giving him an edge. however, fueled by a lifetime of resentment, you fought with every ounce of your strength, your determination unwavering. adrenaline coursed through your veins as you exchanged blows, the pent-up fury of generations propelling you forward.
in a swift move, you managed to catch him off guard, delivering a powerful blow that sent him stumbling back. he crashed into another tree, his surprised expression a stark contrast to the controlled demeanor he usually exhibited. as he regained his footing, he assessed you with a newfound respect, his amber eyes shimmering in the moonlight.
the tension between you remained palpable, a testament to the clash of wills that had taken place. breathing heavily, you held your ground, your body aching but your spirit unbroken. the realization that you could stand up to edward, to the embodiment of the rival family that had haunted your history, ignited a spark of defiance within you.
“we're not as weak as you've believed us to be,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline that still coursed through your veins. you leaned towards edward, his back against the trunk of the tree as his eyes bored into yours. you raised your foot, black, sharp heel pressing into his chest, your eyes never leaving his.
“give carlisle my best regards.”
edward's gaze held a mixture of astonishment and respect. slowly, he nodded, acknowledging the strength you had just demonstrated. in that moment, you knew that you had shattered the mold that had confined your family's destiny for generations. whether the future would be one of continued conflict or potential reconciliation remained uncertain, but you had proven that you would not be defined solely by the rivalries of the past.
that night, you slept peacefully, exhaustion from the earlier altercation and the care you had provided your ailing mother finally catching up with you. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. nestled under the covers, you lay in blissful slumber, completely unaware of the world outside your dreams. you had tended to your sick mother with unwavering devotion, ensuring she was comfortable before you retired to your own room. fluffing her pillows and administering her medication, you had embraced your role as her caregiver, a role you fulfilled with love and tenderness.
sleep claimed you with a gentle touch, your worries and resentments momentarily forgotten. your breathing was steady, your features relaxed as you drifted through dreams, a tranquil smile gracing your lips. the rhythm of your heart matched the quiet cadence of the night, a soothing lullaby to your tired soul.
unbeknownst to you, the shadows outside your window held a secret observer. edward cullen stood in the periphery, his golden eyes fixed on you with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. the very being who had confronted him in a burst of anger and strength now lay before him in vulnerable repose.
he watched the rise and fall of your chest, a silent witness to the peace that had settled over you. in the stillness of the night, the walls that separated your worlds seemed to fade away, leaving only the fragile vulnerability of a shared humanity.
“so beautiful,” he was careful not to wake you as he sat on the bed, next to your head. his hands stroked your cheek, cupped your jaw. he admired the way you found peace in the silence as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “never seen anything like you.”
as the hours ticked by, edward's vigil remained unbroken. his thoughts swirled with a mixture of emotions—wonder at the depth of your resilience, a newfound appreciation for your strength, and a lingering sense of uncertainty about the path ahead. the rivalry between your families remained a chasm to be crossed, a history to be reconciled.
with the first light of dawn, edward turned away from your window, his silent presence retreating into the shadows. the secret he held—of watching over you as you slept—was one he would carry with him, a reminder of the complexity of the emotions he had witnessed in the stillness of the night.
and so, the world outside continued to turn, the rivalries and tensions ever present. but in the quiet moments, beneath the veil of sleep, a connection had been established—an unspoken understanding that transcended the divisions that had separated you for so long.
“you look well rested, dear. you should head to school soon,” your mother's voice sounded weak as she spoke, her words tinged with concern. you gazed at her, a mixture of hesitation and determination in your eyes. the thought of leaving her in her fragile state gave you pause, but you knew you couldn't let your studies falter.
“i'll be back as soon as school ends, mom,” you assured her, offering a reassuring smile. you adjusted the covers around her, making sure she was comfortable before you stood up from the edge of her bed.
she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you're a good daughter, (y/n). always taking care of me.”
you brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, your heart full of love and worry. “it's my duty, mom.”
after a final glance, you reluctantly left the room, closing the door softly behind you. the hallway was quiet, and as you moved through your home, images of your family's history and the rivalry with the cullens flashed through your mind.
as you prepared to leave for school, your mother's voice drew you back. she beckoned you to sit by her side once more, and you obliged, concern etched across your features.
“before you go, there's something i need to tell you,” she began, her voice carrying a weight of history and emotion. “the rivalry between our families, it's not just about past grievances. there's a tale of loss and misunderstanding that runs deep.”
you listened intently as she shared stories of long-held grudges, misunderstood intentions, and the clashes that had become a legacy. how you had lost your father long ago due to a sacrificial suicide in order to keep your legacy going. how your great-grandfather fought until his very last breath. but then, her tone shifted.
“though our families have been at odds for so long, I have to admit, i've always had a fondness for edward and esme cullen,” she confessed, her voice softening. “they've shown kindness that goes beyond the feud. esme, especially, has a heart of gold.”
the revelation surprised you, a hint of intrigue mingling with your curiosity. “why? how can you feel that way about them when they're part of the rival family?”
she sighed, her gaze distant as if lost in memories. “sometimes, dear, we become trapped by the enmity of the past, and we forget that not everyone is defined solely by their family name. edward and esme have their own struggles, their own desires for a better world. don't close your heart to the possibility of understanding, even amidst the rivalry.”
her words left you thoughtful, a new perspective taking root within you. as you left for school, your mind buzzed with a mix of emotions—resentment for the history that had shaped your world, curiosity about the complexities of the cullens, and the burgeoning realization that perhaps there was more to discover beneath the surface of your family's rivalries.
as you walked into the school corridors, the weight of your family's history clung to you like a heavy cloak. the air was filled with the mundane chatter of students, but your focus remained on the rivalry that had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember. and then, you spotted him—edward cullen, the embodiment of your rival family's legacy. he approached you, a small smile on his lips as he attempted to initiate a conversation.
“good morning,” he greeted, his tone polite but casual. you rolled your eyes, adopting the urge to ram his head into the wall. “it was, until now.” he chuckled softly, seemingly unperturbed by your sarcasm. “you know, (y/n), we don't have to be at each other's throats every time we cross paths.”
you raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a sardonic smile. “where's the fun in that? besides, didn't we establish that you're not exactly up to the task of handling me?”
his amusement was evident, though he maintained his composure. “touché. but must we do this in such a public place?”
you leaned in slightly, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “heaven forbid we tarnish the school's pristine reputation with our little spat. wouldn't want the walls to crumble from the sheer shock of it.”
edward's gaze held a hint of amusement, but there was a sincerity in his eyes as he continued, “how's your mother doing?”
your heart clenched at the mention of your mother. the façade of snarkiness faltered, and your eyes darkened, a flash of anger and grief surfacing in an instant. your fingers twitched, and your lips quivered with a dangerous promise.
“keep her name out of this.” you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. The control you had over your emotions teetered on the edge, and your eyes almost flickered with an intensity that hinted at something far more than human.
edward's expression shifted from playful to concerned, his gaze softening as he recognized the depth of your turmoil. he raised his hands in a placating gesture, his voice soothing. “i'm sorry. i didn't mean to upset you.” taking a deep breath, you managed to regain control over your emotions, your eyes returning to their normal state. “don't,” you warned, your voice tinged with a mix of pain and vulnerability. edward nodded, his understanding evident. “alright. i won't bring it up again. just know that if you ever want to talk, i'm here.”
the sincerity in his words was palpable, and despite the layers of enmity that had defined your relationship, you couldn't help but acknowledge the genuine concern in his gaze. as you watched him walk away, you found yourself torn between the bitterness of the past and the tentative bridge that he was trying to build between you.
as the day progressed, you found yourself wrestling with the complexity of your emotions. the rivalry that had defined your life seemed to blur as you considered the possibility that there might be more to edward cullen than met the eye. the conversation at school had shaken something within you—a seed of doubt about the absolutes you had believed in for so long.
when the final bell rang, you gathered your belongings and made your way home. the familiar warmth of your mother's smile greeted you, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to shield her from the animosity that had consumed your family for generations.
as you sat down by her side, her weak voice whispered, “did something happen at school?” you hesitated, then sighed. “yeah, mom. something happened.”
her eyes searched yours, and you found yourself recounting the day's events—the tense encounter with edward, the snarky remarks, and the unexpected moments of vulnerability.
your mother listened intently, her expression a mixture of understanding and concern. when you finished, she reached out, her hand finding yours in a gesture of comfort.
“you are my biggest pride. you are not defined by your fangs and crimson eyes, but by your strength. i raised a strong girl,” she said softly. “but never forget, there's always a choice. you don't have to follow the path that's been laid out for you.”
her words resonated deeply, and you realized that the struggle between your family and the cullens was only a fraction of the greater struggle within your own heart. as the sun set, casting a warm glow over the room, you clung to the hope that perhaps there was a way to transcend the past and forge a different path—one that held the promise of understanding, reconciliation, and maybe even a hint of unexpected love.
the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the cullen residence. inside, edward stood in the study, surrounded by his family members. he took a deep breath, his amber eyes reflecting the turmoil that had consumed his thoughts since the encounter at school.
“i need to talk to you all about something,” he began, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability. his family members turned their attention to him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.
alice, perceptive as always, spoke first, her voice filled with sympathy. “we can tell something's been bothering you, edward. What's on your mind?”
edward's gaze shifted to carlisle, seeking his father's wisdom. “it's about (y/n) (l/n). i can't explain it, but there's something about her. despite everything, i find myself drawn to her in a way i can't ignore.”
carlisle's expression was understanding, his features softening. “feelings can be complex, edward. it's natural to question the boundaries that have been set for us. but remember, any connection between our families carries immense weight.”
jasper's conflicted aura was palpable, his emotions a whirlwind of uncertainty. “it's not that simple, edward. our history with the (l/n) clan— it's not something we can just sweep aside.”
esme, the matriarch of the family, sighed softly, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “i've always had a fondness for her mother, despite everything. she's a strong woman who's endured so much. if there's a way to find common ground, perhaps it's worth exploring.”
edward's gaze shifted to rosalie and emmett, their expressions far less accommodating. rosalie's eyes held a fierce intensity, her voice dripping with venom. “you can't seriously be considering this, edward. (y/n)'s a part of a family that's caused us nothing but pain.” emmett's agreement was evident in his stern expression, his arms crossed over his chest. “rosalie's right. this is a dangerous path to tread.”
edward's patience was tested, and he met rosalie's intensity with an unwavering gaze. “you don't get to make that decision for me. and threats won't change my mind.” a tense silence hung in the air as the family confronted the magnitude of esward's emotions. then, with a flicker of movement, his eyes locked onto rosalie's, his voice firm.
“you need to back off, rosalie. threatening (y/n) won't end well for anyone, especially not you.”
her lips curled into a snarl, her own threat on the tip of her tongue. but as she met edward's unyielding stare, a shadow of doubt seemed to cross her features. the tension was thick, the air charged with unspoken challenge.
in that moment, it was clear that the fragile balance between their families was hanging by a thread—one that could either break and plunge them into further darkness, or be a catalyst for a new understanding that transcended generations of enmity. as edward held his ground, his heart conflicted yet resolute, the future remained uncertain, fraught with both danger and the potential for an unexpected kind of redemption.
past midnight, the air was cool and still as edward stood at a distance from your home. assuming you were asleep, he had come to resume his nightly observation, a habit he had developed. the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the surroundings, and for a while, he remained a quiet observer of the tranquility that enveloped your residence.
but then, a faint sound reached his ears—a rhythmic thud that didn't belong to the night's calm. curiosity piqued, he approached your garage, his footsteps almost soundless on the pavement. there, through a partially open door, he caught sight of you, boxing with a punching bag.
the sight took him by surprise. the raw power in your movements, the intensity of your focus—it was a side of you he hadn't expected. he watched as you unleashed your frustrations on the bag, each punch an expression of strength and determination.
for a while, he remained hidden in the shadows, his gaze fixed on you. but then, you paused, as if sensing his presence. your eyes locked onto his, and edward found himself drawn into your fierce gaze.
you smirked, a hint of your attitude resurfacing. “well, well, well. look who's here. decided to join the party, did you?”
he stepped forward, his tone light but genuine. “just enjoying the show. didn't want to interrupt.”
your lips curled into a sardonic smile, your guard still up. “oh, trust me, edward. i won't be holding back.”
you launched yourself at him, your moves swift and precise. but edward's reflexes were unmatched, and he effortlessly deflected your attempts to land a hit. the dance between you two was a mix of strength and agility, each move calculated yet unpredictable.
after a series of deflections, edward seized an opportunity, and in a swift motion, he disarmed you, leaving you sprawled on the floor with him pinning you down.
your breath was uneven, your eyes blazing with a mixture of annoyance and something deeper. “you really are impossible to catch off guard, aren't you?”
he chuckled softly, his chest rising and falling with every breath. “it's a gift, i suppose.”
you glared at him, but your facade was slowly cracking, revealing a vulnerability that you rarely showed. “what do you want, cullen? came to show off your invincibility?”
his gaze softened, his weight shifting off of you as he settled onto the floor beside you. “no, (y/n). i wanted to see the woman who can hold her own in a fight. you're stronger than i anticipated.” your guard was still up, but there was a hint of surprise in your eyes. “you're not just saying that, are you?”
he shook his head, his sincerity evident. “no, i mean it. you've got a fire in you that's hard to ignore. it's impressive.”
you felt a rush of emotions, a mixture of pride and vulnerability. the walls you had built around yourself seemed to waver in the face of his genuine admiration.
“you know, you could always ask if you want a rematch,” you mused, a glint of challenge in your eyes.
he chuckled, his voice warm. “i'll keep that in mind. but for now, how about we sit and talk?”
you shifted so you were sitting upright, the tension between you slowly dissipating. as the two of you conversed, your attitude seemed to ebb away, replaced by a genuine exchange of thoughts and laughter. edward's presence felt different, less like a shadowy observer and more like a person you were discovering beyond the confines of rivalry.
in the quiet of your garage, beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, you found yourselves engaging in a conversation that felt unexpectedly sweet and comforting. the history of animosity that had separated your families seemed to fade into the background as you shared stories, traded banter, and glimpsed a different side of each other.
as the night wore on, a bond began to form—one that went beyond the enmity that had defined your world. and with every passing moment, the boundaries that had kept you apart seemed to blur, leaving only the flicker of an unexpected connection that held the promise of something more profound.
the nights turned into a routine—a secret rendezvous under the moonlight, away from prying eyes and the weight of their families' history. you and edward found yourselves drawn to each other, seeking solace and understanding amidst the chaos that surrounded them.
with time, the attitude that had once defined your interactions began to soften. sarcasm still danced on your lips, but beneath it, there was a genuine camaraderie that neither of you had expected. the training sessions continued, but they transformed into a form of unspoken communication—a dance of strength, trust, and shared secrets.
as edward watched you spar with the punching bag, he couldn't help but admire the grace and power in your movements. your dedication to perfecting your skills mirrored his own commitment to control and restraint. he saw in you a reflection of his own struggles, and that understanding fostered a connection that grew deeper with every passing night.
one evening, as the moon hung low in the sky, you found yourselves seated on the garage floor, the echoes of your laughter filling the air.
“you know, for someone from a rival family, you're not entirely terrible,” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.
edward chuckled, his gaze warm as he looked at you. “i could say the same about you.”
the familiarity between you was evident, a testament to the unexpected bond that had formed. you leaned back against the wall, a sense of comfort settling over you.
“you realize that if our families found out about this, they'd probably have a collective heart attack,” you mused, a wry smile on your lips.
edward's expression shifted, his voice tinged with seriousness. “that's the challenge we face, isn't it? trying to find common ground amidst a history of conflict.”
your gaze met his, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in your eyes. “i've been thinking about that. maybe—maybe we don't have to be defined by our families' mistakes. maybe we can choose our own path.”
he nodded, his agreement evident. “it won't be easy, but i believe it's possible.”
as the night deepened, your conversation flowed, touching on subjects both lighthearted and profound. edward shared stories of his past, of the struggles he faced as a vampire, and the internal battles he had waged to remain true to his values. in turn, you opened up about the challenges you had encountered, the sacrifices you had made for your family, and the dreams you harbored beyond the confines of the rivalry as a vampire of your own.
the more you spoke, the more you realized how similar your experiences were, despite the differences that had once seemed insurmountable. the enmity that had divided your families felt like a distant memory as you bared your souls to each other, the walls between you crumbling with every shared truth.
as the first rays of dawn began to paint the sky, you looked at edward, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty in your eyes. “i don't know where this will lead, edward. but for now, i'm glad we have this.”
he smiled, his expression soft and genuine. “me too. and who knows, maybe one day we can bridge the gap that's kept our families apart.”
with a sense of camaraderie that felt both newfound and ancient, you rose to your feet, the warmth of the bond between you guiding your steps. as you walked back toward the house, the moon's glow still illuminated your path, a gentle reminder of the unexpected connection that had blossomed under its watchful gaze.
deep within the heart of the woods, the moon's pale light filtered through the dense canopy, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. you stood amidst the stillness, a solitary figure amidst the towering trees. you were alone for a reason—a reason that carried a weight heavy enough to bend your thoughts, your heart, your very existence.
the sound of footsteps disrupted the silence, the rustling of leaves echoing through the night. you tensed, your instincts honed by years of survival, years of defending yourself against the world that seemed determined to tear you apart.
emerging from the shadows was not the person you had anticipated. it wasn't edward, the one you assumed had tracked your down—instead, it was rosalie, her golden hair shimmering in the moonlight, her eyes cold and determined.
a surge of anger mixed with surprise coursed through your veins. it was as if fate had conspired to bring you face-to-face, to escalate the tension that had smoldered between your families for generations.
rosalie's lips curled into a scornful smile, her eyes flashing with challenge. “(y/n), i've heard you've been crossing lines you shouldn't. i'm here to make sure you understand your place.”
a dangerous fire ignited in your eyes, your stance shifting to one of defense. “so, you're playing watchdog now, rosalie? what a shocker.”
with a fierce battle cry, rosalie lunged forward, her movements calculated and precise. you barely had time to react, your instincts kicking in as you blocked the incoming strike. the collision of your bodies sent a shockwave of energy through the air, the sound of their impact resonating like a battle drum.
the fight that followed was a furious dance, a choreography of aggression and skill. you exchanged blows with ferocity, each strike a manifestation of the anger that had festered between your families. you were no stranger to combat—you had honed her skills through years of survival. but rosalie's strength was a force to be reckoned with, a testament to her years of existence.
“you really thought you could outwit us?” rosalie taunted, her fists landing blows that reverberated through your body.
gritting your teeth against the pain, you retaliated with a swift roundhouse kick, landing a blow to her midsection. “my last fight ended with my foot in edward's neck, don't push your luck.”
the battle raged on, each movement accompanied by the echo of taunts and grunts of exertion. they were a blur of motion, your attacks and defenses intertwined in a symphony of violence and frustration. the ground beneath you was churned by their movements, the very earth bearing witness to the clash of titans.
rosalie's eyes blazed with fury as she lunged forward, her strength and speed intensified. your met her head-on, blocking blows and launching counterattacks. the impact of your strikes was like thunder, each hit a testament to the unspoken animosity that fueled their rage.
as the fight escalated, you felt the heat of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the pain of the battle igniting a fire within you. the clash of fists and the thud of impacts became a rhythm, a beat that resonated through the night. you drew upon her own power, channeling every ounce of strength you possessed.
“you can't win this, (y/n),” rosalie growled, her fist connecting with your ribs.
blood pounded in your ears, your vision blurring for a moment as the pain radiated through your body. but the pain only served to fuel her determination, to remind you of the reason she had chosen solitude and strength over submission.
you unleashed a series of attacks, each movement fueled by the raw energy of your anger. your fists landed with precision, striking vulnerable points on rosalie's body. the sound of your collision echoed through the woods, a symphony of violence that seemed to carry the weight of generations.
but rosalie was relentless, her eyes burning with the intensity of her anger. she dodged some of your blows with fluid grace, retaliating with an onslaught of her own. the air was thick with tension, the energy of their battle crackling like electricity.
the minutes stretched into an eternity as the fight continued, both of you combatants pushing yourselves to the brink of their endurance. your body was a symphony of pain, every muscle protesting with each movement. but the fire within her burned brighter, a defiant flame that refused to be extinguished, allowing your knee to collide with rosalie's stomach as she choked on her own snarls.
“you're nothing,” rosalie sneered, her fist connecting with your jaw.
you staggered, your vision swimming for a moment as the blow disoriented you. but you refused to back down, channeling your anger and exhaustion into one final, desperate surge of energy.
summoning every last reserve of strength, you launched herself at rosalie, your movements fueled by sheer determination as you smacked your head into hers, blackening her vision while your fist collided with the bottom of her chin. both of your fists collided in a final, brutal clash, the force of the impact sending shockwaves through the air. the force of your collision reverberated through the forest, a testament to the intensity of their battle.
blood trickled from a gash on your forehead, your vision a blur of pain and exhaustion. but even in your battered state, you refused to yield. your breath came in ragged gasps, body aching with every movement.
rosalie's lips curled into a snarl, her eyes blazing with fury. “is this all you've got?”
you met her gaze with a mixture of defiance and exhaustion. “haven't even started yet.”
with a surge of energy that bordered on reckless abandon, you launched yourself at rosalie once more, your movements fueled by a desperate determination. the forest around you seemed to blur as you exchanged blow after blow, the air filled with the clash of your bodies and the fierce rhythm of the battle. but just as the tension reached a fever pitch, a voice cut through the chaos—a voice that carried an authority that demanded attention.
“enough.”
edward's voice held a command that could not be ignored. you and rosalie both turned, your eyes locking onto the figure that had emerged from the shadows.
rosalie's anger was palpable, her chest heaving as she glared at you. “don't interfere, edward. this is between us.”
but before rosalie could launch another attack, edward moved with a speed that was both breathtaking and inevitable. in a swift motion, he knocked her out, unconscious form crumpling to the forest floor.
you were left stunned, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at edward. you couldn't deny the shock that coursed through your veins at the sight of him defending you, even against his own family.
edward turned to you, his gaze softening as he approached. “(y/n), are you alright?” he asked, his concern evident.
you stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and gratitude in your eyes. “you had absolutely no reason to butt in.”
edward's expression was resolute, his voice steady. “i can't stand by and watch this violence. i don't want you getting hurt.”
you sighed, a mix of emotions swirling within her. “i don't need a prince charming to rescue me, edward.”
he met your gaze, his eyes sincere. “i know. but i can't help wanting to protect you.”
your heart wavered, the walls you had built over the years starting to crack. his admission touched something within you, a vulnerability that you hadn't allowed yourself to acknowledge.
as the moonlight filtered through the trees, you found yourself facing a choice—the choice to let go of the hatred that had consumed your world and embrace the possibility of a different kind of connection. the anger and resentment that had fueled your rivalry seemed to fade into insignificance as you looked at edward, the very person who had once been the embodiment of everything you despised.
in the silence of the woods, under the watchful gaze of the moon, you realized that the rivalries of the past could be rewritten into a story of redemption, understanding, and perhaps even love. as your defenses began to crumble, the bonds that tied your families apart loosened, leaving space for a fragile connection to take root—one that held the promise of a future beyond the confines of hatred and enmity.
the forest seemed to hold its breath as the silence enveloped you both. your heart was still racing from the intensity of the fight, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. but amidst the tension, there was a newfound vulnerability, a connection that neither of you had anticipated.
as you caught your breath, you looked at edward, your voice hesitant. “edward, how did you find me here? were you following me?”
edward's gaze remained steady, his amber eyes fixed on yours. he seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. then, he finally spoke, his voice a mixture of honesty and vulnerability.
“i've been watching you,” he admitted, his tone soft but unwavering. “not just here in the woods, but when you sleep as well.”
your heart skipped a beat, your mind struggling to process his words. “you've been— watching me sleep?”
edward nodded, his expression sincere. “yes. i know it might sound strange, but i've felt a connection to you. it wasn't my intention to invade your privacy, but i couldn't help but be drawn to you.”
your initial reaction was a mixture of shock and unease. the idea of someone watching you sleep was unsettling, to say the least. but as you looked into edward's eyes, you saw something genuine and vulnerable—a glimpse of the person behind the enigmatic facade.
“i know it sounds strange,” he continued, his voice gentle. “but i wanted to make sure you were safe, especially after everything that has happened between our families. i never meant for you to find out like this.”
for a moment, the weight of his words settled upon you. the idea of someone watching over you, even in secret, offered a strange sense of comfort. and in edward's eyes, you saw the sincerity that he struggled to convey.
you let out a shaky breath, your defenses slowly crumbling. “i don't know how to feel about this, edward. it's a lot to take in.”
he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “i understand. i just want you to know that my intentions were never to cause you discomfort. i've been drawn to you in ways that i can't explain.”
as you looked at him, the walls you had built around your heart seemed to weaken. his honesty, however unconventional, carried a weight that transcended the rivalry that had defined your lives.
“i can't deny that hearing you say that brings some comfort,” you admitted, your voice softening.
edward's eyes held a mixture of relief and hope. “i'm glad. and i promise, from now on, i'll respect your boundaries.”
the air between you seemed to shift, the tension giving way to a tentative understanding. as you looked at him, you realized that the connection between you was far more complex than you had initially thought.
“thank you,” you whispered, your voice carrying a blend of gratitude and vulnerability.
edward smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “you're welcome.”
in that moment, beneath the moonlit canopy of the forest, the rivalry that had once defined your worlds seemed to fade into insignificance. the fragile connection between you and him held the promise of something unexpected—a bond that defied the odds, rewriting the narrative of hatred and animosity into one of redemption and, perhaps, an unexpected kind of love.
the cullen mansion stood in the moonlight, a silent witness to the tangled emotions that had brought you here. edward's presence at your side was a reminder of the connection that had begun to form between you—a connection that defied the boundaries of your families' rivalry.
as you stepped through the mansion's grand entrance, your guard remained firmly in place. you couldn't let yourself forget the animosity that had driven you for so long, the walls you had built to protect yourself from those who would seek to tear you down.
edward's voice was gentle as he spoke, breaking the silence that hung in the air. “my father, carlisle, can treat your wounds. he's a skilled doctor.”
you nodded, your gaze flickering to edward briefly before settling on the path ahead. the idea of being in the cullen home was both unfamiliar and uncomfortable, but you couldn't deny the allure of carlisle's reputation as a healer.
the hallway seemed to stretch on forever as you followed edward to a well-appointed room. inside, a tall, distinguished man with blond hair and a calming presence awaited you. this was carlisle cullen—the skilled physician and patriarch of the cullen family.
“hello, (y/n),” carlisle greeted, his voice warm and inviting. "edward told me about what happened. let's have a look at those injuries, shall we?"
your guard remained intact, but you nodded and allowed him to examine your wounds. as carlisle worked, his touch was gentle and his expertise evident. despite your reservations, you couldn't help but appreciate his care.
“you know,” carlisle began as he treated a particularly deep cut, “the history between our families stretches back many years. it was born from misunderstandings, grievances, and the mistakes of those who came before us.”
your gaze remained fixed on a distant point, the weight of his words sinking in. “mistakes that continue to affect us even now.”
carlisle's expression softened, his voice tinged with regret. “yes, i understand the pain this feud has caused. rosalie's behavior tonight was inexcusable. i apologize on her behalf.”
you met his gaze, a mixture of surprise and skepticism in your eyes. “apologies don't change the past.”
he nodded, acknowledging your sentiment. “you're right. but it's my hope that we can work towards a future where this cycle of animosity ends.”
as carlisle continued to treat your wounds, his words lingered in the air like a promise—a promise of change, of a possible bridge between the chasm that had separated your families for so long.
once the wounds were tended to, you stood, your guard still present but slightly less fortified. As you prepared to leave, his voice drew you back.
“before you go, (y/n), there's something i want you to know,” he said, his gaze steady and sincere. “since you've entered our lives, i've come to realize that there is much more to you than the history of our families. i'm very fond of you, and i believe in the potential for healing and understanding. please give my best wishes to your mother.”
your heart wavered, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. carlisle's words were unexpected, a beacon of hope in the midst of the turmoil that had shaped your world.
with a nod of gratitude, you turned to leave, edward at your side once again. the connection you had formed with him was growing stronger, and now, a new connection with carlisle seemed to be blossoming as well.
as you walked out of the mansion and into the night, you couldn't help but ponder the words of a man who had lived for centuries. the possibility of change, of rewriting the history of your families, lingered in the air—a possibility that both scared and intrigued you.
in the days that followed your visit to the cullen mansion, a new sense of curiosity began to replace the deep-rooted animosity that had driven you for years. you found yourself drawn to the idea of understanding your rival's world—the world of the cullens. with each passing day, your interactions with edward revealed layers of his personality that you hadn't anticipated.
one evening, edward suggested a walk in the nearby meadow. the moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft glow over the landscape as you strolled side by side.
“is this a common practice for your family?” you asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in your tone. edward chuckled, the sound carrying a note of amusement. “not exactly. we have our share of normal family activities, but a meadow stroll is often– a personal preference.”
you nodded, a small smile playing at your lips. “and what is it about this place that you find so appealing?”
he glanced at you, his golden eyes reflecting the moonlight. “it's a place of solitude, of quiet reflection. amidst the chaos of our lives, it's a sanctuary where we can momentarily escape.”
as you walked, the conversation flowed more freely than it had before. the animosity that had once defined your interactions seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a genuine exchange of thoughts and ideas.
in the soft glow of the moonlit meadow, the air was laced with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. as you walked alongside edward, the conversation flowed more openly than it ever had before, the barriers between you gradually breaking down.
“i've been thinking,” you began, your voice carrying a touch of hesitation, “about the things that matter most in life.”
edward's gaze was focused on you, his expression attentive. “and what have you concluded?”
your steps faltered for a moment as you considered how to put your thoughts into words. “my mother— she's been sick for a while now. no matter what we do, no matter the medication or treatment, nothing seems to make her better.”
edward's features softened with empathy as he listened. “i'm sorry to hear that, (y/n). it must be difficult for you.”
you swallowed the lump in your throat, a mixture of sadness and frustration welling up within you. “it's more than difficult. it's agonizing to watch her suffer and not be able to do anything about it.”
edward's eyes held a depth of understanding as he spoke, his words measured. “there's something you should know. my great-grandmother—she fell ill in a similar way when she refused to marry a member of your family due to the rivalry. it's said that the illness persisted until the rivalry was resolved.”
your heart skipped a beat at his revelation, your thoughts racing as you tried to piece together the implications of his words. “are you saying that my mother's illness— is connected to the rivalry between our families?”
edward nodded, his expression somber. “it's a theory, but it's one that has been passed down through generations. the animosity between our families seems to manifest in various ways, affecting even those who have no direct involvement.”
tears welled up in your eyes as the weight of his words settled over you. you had never considered that your mother's suffering might be tied to the very feud that had shaped your life.
“and the solution?” you whispered, your voice trembling.
edward's gaze was unwavering as he met your tear-filled eyes. “the solution is to end the rivalry once and for all. to find a way to heal the past, to rewrite the narrative that has kept our families apart.”
as the full realization of the situation dawned upon you, you felt a surge of emotion rising within you—a mixture of shock, grief, and a newfound determination.
“end the rivalry?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “but how?”
edward's eyes held a depth of sincerity as he spoke, his words carrying a weight that resonated within you. “there's a way to mend the wounds of the past. (y/n), i believe that by uniting our families, by marrying and sealing the bond between us, we can break the cycle of animosity and heal the rift that has caused so much pain.”
a gasp escaped your lips as his proposal sank in—a proposal that held the promise of not only a future for the two of you but also the chance to save your mother from her suffering.
tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked at edward, your emotions raw and unfiltered. and for the first time, you cried in front of him—a release of years' worth of pent-up emotions, of the pain and uncertainty that had defined your life.
edward stepped closer, his hand gently wiping away your tears. “i'm so sorry, (y/n). i didn't mean to upset you.”
you shook your head, your voice choked with emotion. “it's not your fault. it's just—a lot to take in.”
as you stood in that moonlit meadow, your heart felt both heavy and hopeful. the path that lay ahead was uncharted, a journey that held the potential for redemption, healing, and a love that defied the odds.
in that moment, you knew that the choices you made could reshape not only your destiny but also the destiny of your family and your mother. with edward by your side, the possibility of ending the rivalry and breaking the curse of suffering seemed within reach—a possibility that came with sacrifices, challenges, and the promise of a brighter future.
the afternoon sun bathed the cozy living room in warm light as you stood by your mother's side, your heart racing with a mixture of hope and trepidation. the time had come for edward to meet your mother—a pivotal moment that could determine the course of both your lives.
alice, esme, and carlisle stood beside edward, their presence a reassuring anchor amidst the uncertainty. your mother, though frail and weak from her illness, exuded a strength that had carried her through the years of suffering.
“mom,” you began, your voice soft but steady, “you know edward cullen, but you don't know how important he's become to me.”
your mother's gaze shifted to edward, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. her frail hand clutched yours, seeking reassurance as she faced the unknown.
edward stepped forward, his presence a calming force in the room. “miss (l/n), it's an honor to officially meet you.”
your mother's lips quivered, her voice barely above a whisper. “i remember you,” edward's golden eyes met hers with sincerity, his expression genuine. “you used to sing to us when we were kids. i care deeply for your daughter, and i wanted to officially meet you to show you my intentions are genuine.”
tears welled up in your mother's eyes, a mixture of emotions passing over her features. fear, uncertainty, but also a glimmer of hope.
you gently squeezed her hand, offering her your support. “you said so yourself, edward's different, mom. he's not like the others.”
edward's voice was gentle as he continued, his words laced with vulnerability. “i know our families have a history, one that's caused pain and suffering. but i want to change that. i care for your daughter in a way that defies the past. i want to build a future together, one that's marked by love and understanding. this future may very well cure the disease you're harboring.”
esme's eyes glistened with tears, her heart touched by edward's words. carlisle's gaze held a mixture of respect and warmth, a silent acknowledgment of the significance of this moment.
your mother's breath hitched, her gaze locked onto edward's as if searching for truth in his eyes. “the legend is true, isn't it?"
edward nodded, his expression unwavering. "we believe it may be.”
as your mother's fear began to fade, replaced by a glimmer of acceptance, edward's presence seemed to exude a sense of reassurance and safety.
esme stepped forward to embrace your mother, her voice soft and emotional. “oh, my dear, you're even more frail than i remember. i'm so sorry.”
tears welled up in your mother's eyes as she looked at esme, a mixture of gratitude and emotion in her gaze. “esme, i've missed you so.”
carlisle's voice carried a weight of understanding as he spoke. “we're here to find a way to heal the wounds of the past, to mend the suffering that's been inflicted on both our families. it's a difficult path, but it's one we're willing to take.”
edward's eyes met yours, a shared determination passing between you. “we believe that by uniting our families, we can rewrite the narrative that's caused so much pain. with your blessing, we want to marry.”
your mother's gaze shifted from edward to you, her hand tightening around yours. she took a deep breath, her voice a whisper. “for the sake of healing, for the sake of both our families, i give you my blessing.”
tears streamed down your cheeks as you embraced your mother, your heart overflowing with gratitude and relief. the weight of generations seemed to lift in that moment—a weight that had shaped your lives and now, against all odds, held the promise of redemption.
the secluded clearing in the forest had been transformed into a place of quiet beauty, a sanctuary where the past was left behind and the promise of a new future beckoned. a delicate canopy of leaves and flowers framed the makeshift altar, creating an intimate space for the moment that would forever change the course of your lives.
you stood at the altar, your heart racing with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. edward stood across from you, his gaze steady and unwavering—a reflection of the commitment and determination that had brought you to this point.
alice, esme, jasper and carlisle stood as witnesses, their presence a reminder of the bonds that had formed between your families. the air was filled with a sense of solemnity and hope, a testament to the journey that had led you to this day.
as the ceremony proceeded, the weight of your past seemed to dissipate with each word spoken, replaced by a sense of freedom and possibility. the vows you exchanged carried the weight of your shared intentions—a promise to rewrite the history that had kept your families apart and to build a future marked by unity and love.
finally, the moment arrived. the words of blessing were spoken, and you and edward stood face to face, hands clasped in a union that defied the odds. the world around you seemed to fade into the background as you leaned in, your lips meeting in a kiss that held the power to change everything.
the kiss was gentle, a testament to the tenderness and sincerity that had brought you together. as your lips touched, the air seemed to shift—a subtle change that resonated through the forest and the hearts of those who watched.
but it was your mother's reaction that told the most significant tale. as you and edward shared that kiss, a single tear escaped from your mother's eye, tracing a path down her cheek.
in that moment, as the tear fell, a wave of energy rippled through the air—an energy that carried with it the weight of generations. the poison that had afflicted your mother, the curse that had been tied to the rivalry between your families, seemed to lose its grip.
your mother's expression shifted from surprise to wonder, her breath hitching as she placed a hand over her heart. the pain that had once marked her features seemed to dissipate, replaced by a newfound vitality.
alice's eyes widened, her gasp echoing through the clearing. “look!”
and then, it happened. the transformation was swift yet profound. your mother's posture straightened, her features regaining a vibrancy that had long been absent. the lines of pain that had etched her face faded, leaving behind a countenance of health and happiness.
tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you looked at your mother—a mother reborn, freed from the grip of suffering that had plagued her for so long.
“i—i feel—” your mother began, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.
edward's eyes met yours, a shared understanding passing between you. as the kiss had marked the union of your hearts, it had also marked the end of the curse that had held your families captive.
the air seemed to hum with a sense of wonder, of the impossible made possible. the clearing was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves, the whisper of nature acknowledging the momentous shift that had taken place.
in the midst of it all, you and edward shared a smile—a smile that held the promise of a future that was unburdened by the shadows of the past. with your mother's healing came the realization that the power of love, unity, and forgiveness had the capacity to rewrite even the darkest of narratives.
and so, in the heart of the forest, under the canopy of leaves and the embrace of nature, you stood hand in hand with edward, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the healing power of a love that had defied all odds.
#twilight#new moon#eclipse#breaking dawn#edward cullen#edward x reader#edward cullen x reader#the cullens#alice cullen#jasper cullen#carlisle cullen
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Day 23-Greater than Yourself
Traintober 2023
Other Stories
Day 23-Big World
Greater than Yourself
Samantha sprinted down the street, running desperately for Nicole's place. Behind her, she heard the jaguar-like growl of the thing behind her.
She risked looking and saw it leap out from behind the corner, its frames bending and arching like a jungle cat. It was a sports car...or had once been in the 30s. Now it was a twisted creature of hate and metal.
She swore and pushed herself faster, cursing that Nicole's apartment was so far from any rail lines.
She heard the animalistic growl of the car's engine grow louder as it approached, the streetlights flickering out as it raced down the street after her.
She saw Nicole glance out her window, drawn by the noise before racing to the door.
Samantha finally reached the stairs to the apartment, scrambling up them as she heard Nicole unlocking the door.
She slammed into the door, Nicole pulling from the other side...but it didn't move.
The car slowed, stalking forward, its engine revving in a harsh mockery of a laugh.
Nicole beat on the door, attempting to batter it down, but her attacks bounced off. The car reached the bottom of the stairs, waiting. Samantha could see Nicole's neighbors had been drawn by the noises, and all were struggling to open their doors, but like Nicole's their doors refused to move.
The car laughed again. Samantha closed her eyes, they were too far from any rail lines, she would never make it to the Ffarquhar sheds, but she had to try
"Nicole, I'm sorry"
Her firewoman stopped beating at her door to glare at her, "Samantha don't you dar..."
Samantha dove over the car, hitting the ground with a roll and coming up running.
She heard the car growl almost approvingly as it spun its tires, whirling around to pursue her. As she heard it approach she dove to the side, its bumper barely missing her as it swerved trying to hit her, frost spreading across her skin from the proximity. She rolled as the car turned towards her. She made the mistake of glancing towards Nicole, who was screaming as she beat at her door. The car took advantage of her distraction and lunged. Samantha rolled desperately...
SLAM! Crunch.
The street was suddenly bathed in golden light and the car yowled in pain.
Samantha looked up to see the impossible sight of her engine shaking the car like a dog with a rat, its rear fender caught in his jaws. She scrambled for the safety of Thomas's cab as the fender ripped free of the car with a screech, turning to golden dust between his teeth.
"Don't you dare touch my driver."
Caomhnóir's voice shook with rage. Gold light shone from his lamps with burning intensity.
The car flinched back from the light, its metal melting in its heat, before roaring in defiance, shaking the stones of the street loose.
Caomhnóir let out a screaming whistle in return. But it wasn't his whistle. This whistle was much higher and shriller. The car's roar had shaken the street, the whistle shook the sky.
The car was sent flying back from the force, tumbling fender over hood.
Across the island and beyond engines awoke, shaken from their sleep by Caomhnóir's battlecry.
Samantha couldn't prevent the shudder that ripped through her when she realized Thomas had called upon the Lady's whistle, and she had answered.
The creature was struggling back to its wheels when the tank engine spoke.
"I would run if I were you." He said, menace dripping from every word. "If I catch you, there won't be enough left of you to die."
The car locked its gaze with the golden eyes of the tank engine before giving a sharp nod, preparing to pounce.
Samantha felt Thomas tense beneath her, ready to meet the foe head-on. Golden light spilled from his cab, melting the frost from her shoulders.
The creature leaped...only to be caught.
The creature shrieked in surprise, twisting to see what had caught it.
From the ground, shadows stretched in long sinuous tendrils, cutting through Caomhnóir's golden light to wrap crushingly around the sports car's frame.
Slowly, but surely, the tendrils dragged the car towards where they reached, a puddle of shadow darker than the darkest night. The car twisted, shrieked, and bit at the tendrils, but to no avail.
Finally, as its rear wheels began to dip into the shadow as if it was liquid, it looked towards its foe.
Thomas glared, "Be grateful." He said, "They will be more merciful than I would have been."
The car was dragged under with one last screech of defiance.
***
Far away on the Uman and Din Railway
The car broke through the ground, spitting out shadows as the tendrils withdrew. It rose to its wheels growling, only to freeze at the sight before it.
A Great Western 47xx towered above it, shadow tendrils drifting in the air around it like a mane of shadowfire. While they would have been enough to make such a beast pause, the car could see the truth.
For once something could see the truth of the beast towering before them, towering with the mountains behind it, a thousand thousand tendrils whipping around it, some thin and sharp enough to cut paint from metal without scratching it, others larger around than the engines alongside it. More teeth than those of every creature to ever live grinned at the car in predatory hunger. Eyes, countless eyes watched their prey from every angle.
"Well little beast," the being uttered, "did you truly think Caomhnóir so powerless?"
Its voice rang from a thousand angles, threatening to rip the car from the ground on which it stood from the meer force of its voice alone.
"Did you think there were none greater than yourself that would answer his call?"
The car trembled under the presence of the being before it.
The titan leaned forward, grinning eagerly, "Know this little beast. I was not the only one to answer his call, merely the swiftest. Be grateful I was the one to reach you instead of the Lady."
The car whimpered under the onslaught of her attention.
The former 47xx's grin sharped, and she lunged.
***
Samantha was slow to leave the safety of Thomas's cab. Even when she heard Nicole nearly rip her door from its hinges in opening it when the creature's grip disappeared, she could only sit and try to control her panicked breathing. Nicole scrambled up into the cab, wrapping her arms around Samantha even before she stopped moving.
"Don't you dare do that again."
Samantha clung to her firewoman, "I told you that your apartment was too far from the tracks," she tried to joke weakly, but Nicole just nodded, "First thing this weekend I'm finding a place by the line. I can't go through that again."
"Agreed," Thomas chimed in.
Samatha's eyes widened as she realized no one had checked on him, she scrambled down from the cab and began examining him.
Thomas huffed fondly, "I'm fine driver, physically. It'll be a while before I can sleep though."
"You're telling me," Nicole grumbled, but her hand was rubbing Thomas's side as she said it.
As other people began coming out of their houses, Samantha remembered the elephant in the room, or rather, the tank engine on the street.
Thomas stood in the middle of the street, when she looked down she saw the stone pavers had been pushed aside, revealing worn rails underneath.
"How are you here?" Nicole asked from beside her.
"The tramway used to run through here to reach the quarries," Thomas said, glancing down at the street. "The line was closed in favor of the new route in the fifties."
Nicole gave him an unimpressed look, "I know that. I also know those rails were pulled up, and multiple buildings stand where the line used to go. How did you get here."
"The land remembers the line," Thomas said defensively, "I asked the Lady for her aid in reaching you."
Samatha was the first to realize what her engine wasn't saying.
"You have no idea how to get back do you?"
The tank engine sagged embarrassedly, "No...I didn't think about it till after I had reached you."
Taking pity on her engine, she kissed his cheek, "Thank you. I have no idea how we’ll get you out, but thanks for saving me."
"I'd happily do it again." He said softly.
***
The next morning on the Uman and Din...
Freda and Gwyn were having a pleasant morning until they came within earshot of the sheds. A horrendous screeching and crunching could be heard. Freda sighed and increased her pace, wondering what her engine had gotten into this time.
She walked around the corner to find Screech happily chewing on a mangled Mercedes. Causing it to squeal horribly. The car was pinned with her tendrils, leaving the eldritch engine free to peel off pieces of metal at her leisure.
Freda glanced over to Abbey, the star class watching with vindictive enjoyment.
"Just what did the car do?"
"It tried to attack Caomhnóir's driver." The express engine said grimly.
Freda turned to glare at the car. Screech politely pausing so the car could focus on the glare.
"You've missed the trunk," Freda said flatly.
Riiiipppppp
#Traintober#Traintober23#Traintober 2023#ttte fanfic#rws fanfic#Prompt-Big World#ttte thomas#caomhnóir#TTTE OC Samantha#TTTE OC Nicole#TTTE OC Screech#TTTE OC Freda#TTTE OC Abbey#Uman and Din#Uman and Din Railway#U&D#U&DR#eldritch engine#eldritch train#eldritch#Ghost car#Engines that go bump in the night
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In the shadowed depths of Ionia's forests, where the dense foliage obscured the dimming light, (M/n) stumbled upon Kayn, injured and leaning against a rock. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and the distant murmurs of the forest's inhabitants. Despite the tranquil yet ominous atmosphere, (M/n) approached with a cautious yet determined stride, disrupting the quietude that enveloped the wounded warrior.
Kayn's gaze, fierce yet weary, met (M/n)'s as he offered help. "Leave... or face your doom," he growled, his voice weak but laced with menace.
(M/n) paused for only a moment, the weight of Kayn's warning hanging in the air. "I'm not here to hurt you. Let me help," he said calmly, kneeling beside Kayn and examining his wounds. The injuries were severe, a mix of deep cuts and burns, likely from a recent battle.
Kayn attempted to push him away, but his strength failed him. "I don't need your help," he spat, but the defiance in his voice was losing to the sheer exhaustion.
As the moments passed, the tension between them eased like the shifting of the forest's leaves in the wind. The crackling of the fire and the rustling of leaves provided a comforting backdrop to their silent exchange.
Despite Kayn's initial resistance, (M/n) persisted, his hands moving with practiced precision as he applied healing salves and bandages."You think this makes you noble? I could kill you in an instant," Kayn would say, his eyes flashing with the dark energy of Rhaast."And yet, you haven't," (M/n) would reply, his tone gentle but firm. "Rest now. You'll need your strength."
As days turned into weeks, the forest became a haven for their burgeoning bond. The quiet moments shared by the campfire became a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. Despite his harsh words and cold exterior, Kayn began to appreciate (M/n)'s presence, a subtle shift in his demeanor signaling an acceptance born from necessity and perhaps something more.Kayn's feelings started to shift, a strange warmth growing in his chest whenever (M/n) was near. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit it, not even to himself. Instead, he became more irritable, more curt, hoping to mask the confusion within him.
One evening, as a storm raged outside their small shelter, (M/n) tended to the fire, ensuring it stayed lit. Kayn watched him in silence, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Suddenly, a dark chuckle echoed in his mind, the voice unmistakably belonging to Rhaast.
"Well, well, well," Rhaast's voice taunted. "Looks like someone's developed a soft spot."Kayn clenched his fists, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath.
Despite the storm raging outside, there was a sense of calm within their makeshift shelter. As (M/n) tended to the fire, ensuring it stayed lit, Kayn found himself watching him in silence, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
The flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the small space, illuminating the lines of exhaustion etched on Kayn's face.His heart, a tangled mess of emotions he couldn't quite decipher, yearned for something he couldn't name.
It was a foreign sensation, this warmth that spread through him whenever (M/n) was near, a feeling that both comforted and unsettled him in equal measure.Finally, unable to bear the weight of his thoughts any longer, Kayn spoke, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.
"Thank you," he said, the words heavy with unspoken emotion.(M/n) looked up, surprised.
"For what?"Kayn hesitated for a moment, his usual mask slipping slightly before he regained control.
"For... not being as insufferable as I initially thought," he replied, his tone gruff but tinged with genuine appreciation.
(M/n) smiled, a warmth spreading through him. "You're welcome."
As the storm outside began to subside, a sense of peace settled over their makeshift shelter. The crackling of the fire filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional rustle of leaves outside.
It was in this quiet moment that (M/n) realized they had never formally introduced themselves.
"By the way,"(M/n) began, breaking the comfortable silence that had enveloped them.
"I realize we never properly introduced ourselves. I'm (M/n)."
Kayn turned to him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his best efforts to maintain his usual stoic demeanor. "Kayn," he replied simply,
his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of warmth.(M/n) nodded, a sense of satisfaction washing over him at finally knowing the name of the enigmatic warrior he had tended to for so long.
"Nice to officially meet you, Kayn."
ᴡᴏʀᴅs; ɪ ғᴏʀɢᴏʀ
#male reader#xmalereader#fluff#league of legends#x reader#league of legends x reader#x male reader#shieda kayn
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Ex Luna Scientia
Summary:
Lucien Vanserra, seventh son of the Minister for Magic, is as loved by his peers as he is hated by his family. But behind the charm and irreverence hides a secret, as dark and menacing as the scar on his face.
Elain Archeron, middle sister in a trio of muggle-born witches, has only one wish: for someone to truly see her. Because when she sleeps at night, she can see it all.
Or- an Elucien at Hogwarts AU.
Chapter 18: The Hall of Prophecy
Ao3 Masterlist
The weeks following the werewolf attacks were some of the worst Lucien had ever experienced at Hogwarts. It was all people could talk about- the breakouts, the attacks, the ministry’s promise to crack down on dangerous individuals.
“We will not rest until our streets are safe once more,” his father had declared on the front page of the Daily Prophet.
It made Lucien sick. The fact that ministry members were allegedly resigning as an act of solidarity and defiance did not raise his spirits, and neither did Professor Spell-Cleaver’s impassioned speeches.
It didn't matter, none of it. The harm had already been done. His father understood the power of mistrust and prejudice, and he was wielding them masterfully. Besides, Aurors abandoning their posts wouldn't achieve anything. The only thing that would ever begin to put an end to it would be for someone to put a stop to his father.
Not just to his career and political machinations, but to him. Lucien had never particularly felt any affection for his father, but the rage he now felt whenever he so much as thought of the man who had sired him surprised even himself. Sometimes he pictured himself lunging at the man and digging his teeth into his flesh until his mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and his screaming filled his ears. Not during the full moon, but in broad daylight, like those convicts had done - like they had been forced to do, Lucien was sure of it. The thought of doing such a thing (of accidentally hurting someone because of what he was) made him sick- but if anyone deserved it was Beron. What would happen, if he somehow managed to bite him? The humans had been so badly beaten in the attack that they hadn’t survived their injuries.
But Lucien would make sure that Beron survived. Just one bite- just enough to draw blood, just long enough to make sure he was never the same. It would be a sick, twisted form of poetic justice.
These twisted thoughts being at the front of his mind was why, when the next full moon rolled around, he made his friends swear to not come to the Shrieking Shack. His thoughts were too dark, his mental state too unstable to risk their safety.
Convincing them had not been easy, but in the end they had relented. He had regretted it the second he had laid down on that musty four-poster on the second floor of the Shrieking Shack and felt his muscles tense with the incoming agony of his transformation, but it was too late.
He spent hours raging- howling at the moon, biting and scratching himself. He was transported back to those miserable years before his friends had given him the greatest gift he could ever have asked for. The scent of his own blood only enraged him even more.
And then, a few hours before dawn, another scent caught his attention. Something animal and vaguely familiar, even in his current state.
A large, smoke-grey hound stared at him coolly. A snarl ripped from Lucien’s throat, even as something registered at the back of his mind. But the hound only snarled back, holding its ground. Lucien bounded at him and the hound turned and bolted down the underground tunnel that led back to the whomping willow.
He chased the hound for hours through the Forbidden Forest, but he could never catch up. The hound was too swift, quick and graceful, leaping through the dense forest like a shadow.
When the sky started lightening with the promise of dawn his prey finally slowed. But instead of pouncing on him, Lucien only pawed at him playfully. The dog swiped back at him before running again, letting Lucien chase him. And on the chase went, but differently- no more than two animals, play-fighting in the woods.
When Lucien finally opened his eyes, splayed on his back in the Shrieking Shack, the hound was hovering over him, panting heavily. Lucien’s entire body was screaming with exhaustion and pain, his self-inflicted wounds stinging smartly. But his mind was mercifully clear, groggy with sleep but free of the spiraling anger that had taken a hold of him since Skeeter’s article.
The hound’s glowing amber eyes glittered as Lucien sat up gingerly. There was a flash of light, a faint crack, and then his brother appeared next to him. Before Lucien could say anything Eris’ fist collided with his face and pain exploded from his nose.
“Ow!” He clutched his nose and felt blood dripping between his fingers. “Fuck. What was that for?”
Eris leveled a long look at him. “For being a prick to your friends.”
Ah. So that was how Eris had known to be here. “I deserved that,” he mumbled ruefully, wiping the blood from his face.
His brother lifted his hand again and scuffed him at the back of the head. “Ow! I get it, stop hitting me!”
“That’s for chasing me all night,” his brother said simply.
“Yeah, fair enough…” Lucien agreed sheepishly.
He winced as his brother helped him to his feet but didn’t protest as Eris helped him clean his wounds.
“You really did a number on yourself, little brother.”
Lucien’s gut clenched with guilt. “I’m sorry.”
“There it is,” Eris said with a tight smile. “The magic words. I wasn’t sure you knew what they were.”
Lucien loosed a laugh and winced at the pain in his ribs. He’d need to stop by Madam Majda’s for an extra strong dose of pain tonic. “Ass.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eris drawled, throwing him a set of robes. “Get dressed, we don’t have much time. I need to talk to you about something.”
The words sent his gut spinning, sending him dangerously close to vomiting as he remembered why he had been in such a rage in the first place.
“What’s he doing, Eris?” Lucien asked, gingerly slipping the robes over his head. “Those werewolves-“
“Helion thinks he’s building an army,” Eris said flatly. “He thinks Koschei’s somehow been coerced into commanding them with the Imperious charm. He was famous for it, you know, during the war with Grindelwald.”
“Helion? What…how…” Lucien’s groggy brain was struggling to keep up.
“Helion’s had members of the ministry secretly loyal to him for decades. I always suspected he must, and, well.” He grinned wickedly. “Not sure what I did, but it would appear I’ve finally made the cut.
Lucien had to laugh at that. “What a terrible mistake.”
Another scuff to the back of his head. Lucien groaned in pain and closed his eyes against a dizzy spell. “Ow! Fuck, Eris, stop hitting me.”
Immediately his brother’s arm was around his waist, holding him upright. “Sorry, shit, let me help you back up to the school-“
Lucien pushed him off with a half-hearted eye roll. “Quit your fussing. Helion- he thinks those people are being trained to fight? But for what?”
“I don’t know,” Eris said darkly. “But I’m going to find out. And I think we can perhaps kill two birds with one stone.”
Eris’ amber eyes were shining in a way that meant he was in the mood to get into some trouble.
“I’m listening,” Lucien said, sitting up straighter.
“Does Elain still want to get inside the Hall of Prophecy?”
Lucien immediately forgot about his aching body. “Yes!” He’d almost given up hope that Eris would find a way in. “But isn’t it chaos at the Ministry these days? How are we supposed to sneak in through that?”
Eris grinned wickedly. “We’re not. If my plan works we’re not going to need to sneak in at all.”
“That’s…Merlin, why do I have a bad feeling I’m not going to like this idea of yours?”
“You probably won’t,” Eris agreed with a wince. “Elain even less, actually. Here’s what I’m thinking…”
Lucien’s dread grew as his brother explained his plan. When he was done he simply gaped at him, his jaw hanging open in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
---
“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Lucien asked gently.
Elain kept looking over her shoulder as they crept down the silent, deserted hallways, her eyes wide. She looked so tightly wound that she jumped at every little sound- every creak of a suit of armor adjusting their stance, every murmuring of the occupants of paintings they passed.
They had just slipped behind the tapestry that led to the secret tunnel that would take them all the way to the basement of Honeyduke’s in Hogsmeade. From there, they were to sneak out and make their way to the edge of town, where Eris would be waiting for them. It was reckless to sneak out of the castle like this, but it was hardly the most dangerous part of the plan.
And besides, it wasn’t that reckless for him. But for Elain…
Her fingers tightened around his so hard he almost winced. “Yes,” she said, taking a deep, shaky inhale. “Eris said it has to be tonight. Besides, he’ll be waiting for us.”
“If we get caught…”
“We won’t,” she said, her lips twitching despite the nerves and trepidation he could feel radiating off her. “And if we do, I’ll be embarrassed for your reputation as a trouble maker.”
Lucien huffed a laugh. “You know what, that’s fair. Still, if we get caught…”
“No word about the ministry and Hall of Prophecy,” she intoned, suddenly serious again. “We simply snuck out to Hogsmeade for a nighttime stroll. And if we get caught in London…”
“We won’t,” Lucien declared, as much to convince herself as to convince her. “Eris’ plan is fool-proof.” Foolish, dangerous, definitely idiotic, but, Lucien had to admit, also quite ingenious.
“Then let’s go,” she said with a grin. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning to the dark passageway. “Lumos.”
A silvery beam of light illuminated the damp stone, and they set off down the passageway. It became narrower and narrower the further they walked, until Elain had to let go of his hand to walk in front of him and Lucien had to crouch to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling.
Eventually the path turned into little more than a crawl space. Elain looked at him over her shoulder with a stern look.
“Sorry,” he whispered with a cringe. “We’re almost there, I promise. It’s the safest way out of the castle…”
Elain shook her head. “It’s not that.” He couldn't see her eyes in the gloom but he could hear the humor in her voice, and he could picture the exact way her eyes would be glittering. “Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”
With that she stuck her wand between her teeth and dropped to her hands and knees to crawl towards the end of the tunnel. Lucien chuckled as he followed suit, indeed appreciating the view. When they reached the end of the passageway Lucien shouldered open a trapdoor camouflaged in the ceiling, trying not to make a racket as he dislodged the heavy, dusty boxes that had been sitting on top of the trapdoor. He helped Elain climb out of the tunnel and felt her breathe a sigh of relief.
“I did not like that,” she declared, taking in great gulps of air. “I didn’t like that one bit.”
“Thankfully, actually getting to London won’t include any more tunnels,” Lucien reassured her.
“And is there a reason you haven’t told me how we’re actually getting there?”
Lucien grinned. “Oh, I think you’ll like this. Come on, there’s a door somewhere around here…”
They felt their way through the dark basement, the air thick and sweet from the boxes of candies and toffees piled all around them.
The back alley was deserted when they excited the shop, but they still kept to the shadows, dark cloaks lifted over their heads. If anyone spotted them they would simply look like two lovers out for a stroll.
The shops and little houses of Main Street were thinning out, and soon they were walking down the dusty road that led to the mountains in the distance. Lucien kept his gaze firmly away from the Shrieking Shack, sitting on a lonely patch of grass on the outskirts of town.
“Lucien,” Elain whispered. “Do you think this is a very stupid idea?”
“Well,” he mused. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s not fun.”
Elain shook her head at him affectionately. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
The village fell away behind them, and they quickened their step as they spotted a familiar figure, leaning against a dark object. As they got closer Elain gasped.
“Told you,” Lucien said with a smirk. “I wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d be flying on a broom the whole way…”
“Baby brother,” Eris drawled as they approached. “Ms Archeron.” He tipped his head in a mock bow. “I believe you requested a ride?”
Lucien’s flying motorbike gleamed in the moonlight, two helmets and leather jackets resting on the seat. Eris’ broom was leaning against the side, and his brother wasted no time in grabbing it and zipping up his own jacket.
“Ready? We’ll go over the plan when we get to London. I want to get going now while we still have some cloud cover.”
Lucien glanced at Elain, who hesitated for only a moment before donning the helmet and jacket and climbing onto the bike. “Ready.”
Eris chuckled appreciatively. “You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the rule breaking type.”
“And I would have pegged you as a stuck-up daddy’s boy, but we all make mistakes,” she quipped back.
Lucien howled with laughter as Eris sputtered indignantly. With a tap of his wand the engine roared to life, and then they were rising, up, up, up into the night sky. Elain’s arms wrapped tightly around his middle as the country lane fell away until it was no more than a scratch cutting through the landscape. Hogwarts glittered in the distance, its hundreds of windows glittering like a beacon in the night.
Eris led the way, cutting a straight line south towards London. After a few minutes Lucien relaxed into the familiar rhythm of being high up in the sky, the wind howling in his ears and the scenery below blurring into a dark patchwork. Any lingering anxiety lifted off his shoulders, disappearing into the night around them.
They slipped higher still, until they were level with the wispy, dark clouds moving in from the West. The temperature went from cool to freezing, the air so damp Lucien could feel it in his bones.
“Remember the last time you took me for a ride on your bike?” Elain screamed over the howling wind.
Lucien laughed. “How could I forget?” He’d been an entirely different person then. Or- perhaps not different, but simply going about things the wrong way entirely. “I’m still surprised you said yes.”
He felt Elain shrug against his back. “I wasn’t blind, you know. Even if you were an ass.”
He flipped up the visor on his helmet and shot her a self-satisfacted grin over his shoulder, laughing again as she only shook her head at him.
On they flew, until his limbs started to feel numb with cold. They passed over muggle towns, the golden lights mockingly warm and inviting as they flew through the cold night. Just when Lucien was starting to dread the prospect of having to fly back, Eris pressed his nose to his broom and shifted into a dive.
London beckoned in the distance, tiny golden pinpricks eventually turning into houses, buildings, parcs. They kept to the cloud cover as long as possible, and then Eris flicked his wand on them to disguise them with a concealment charm. It wouldn’t last, but it was better than having muggle witnesses claiming to have seen a man on a broom and two teenagers on a flying motorcycle.
They landed in a dark alley that would have been nondescript were it not for the telephone booth at one end.
“Right,” Eris said, rubbing his hands together to bring some warmth back to his frozen fingers. “So. Like I said, Father travels to Azkaban every two weeks on routine inspections- or whatever the hell it is he’s doing there.” His amber eyes turned cold and scornful. “He’s there tonight, which means if he’s somehow alerted to a disturbance, we’ll have plenty of time to get out before he’s back in London. With that said, let’s try to avoid getting caught, yeah? It’s one thing to break in, but breaking out is another thing altogether.”
Lucien and Elain both nodded mutely. Lucien had conveyed the plan to Elain in a whispered conversation inside the Room of Requirements, at his brother’s suggestion. Eris hadn’t wanted any part of it written down anywhere, under any circumstances. He hadn’t even been honest with Tamlin, Jurian and Vassa about where he was going tonight. They’d be livid when they eventually find out, but more at having missed out on an adventure than at his dishonesty.
“The effects of the Polyjuice Potion will last exactly one hour. We go in, we do what we have to do, and we get the hell out before the effects wear off. If someone sees us, act like you belong there. And if we get separated or someone starts asking too many questions…” He trailed off, looking at them expectantly.
“We run for the fireplaces in the Atrium and take the Floo Network back to Hogsmeade,” Lucien said, repeating the instructions Eris had given him in the Shrieking Shack.
“Correct. Take the Floo Network back to the Three Broomstick, and if anyone sees you, just say you broke into the teacher’s lounge and took the Network from there. You’ll get detention but nobody will check the Network- not for two kids having a laugh.”
He reached into his cloak and took out a bottle of thick, murky liquid, and three smaller vials. “This won’t be pleasant, I’m afraid.” From the smirk on his face Lucien knew his brother didn’t feel bad for them at all. “Elain, you’ll be impersonating my friend from the Department of Mysteries. If we’re caught going in or out of the department, nobody should ask any questions. But if they do- remember that you have the right to be there, and whatever business you have down there doesn't concern anyone else.”
“Right…” Elain said, looking at the vile liquid in Eris’ hand uncertainly.
Eris uncorked the bottle and poured a third of it into one of the smaller vials before dropping in what looked like a single, long blonde hair. The potion bubbled slightly and started to froth, before settling into a murkish green shade.
“Here you go. Bottoms up!”
Elain grabbed the vial gingerly and sniffed the contents with a cringe.
“Cheers!” With that she tipped the liquid into her throat, gagging slightly at the taste.
For a moment nothing happened. And then Elain’s eyes went wide, and the empty vial shattered on the cobblestones as she clutched her stomach and doubled over, groaning in pain.
“Elain! Are you-”
Lucien reached for her in alarm but Eris held him back. “Just let it happen. It doesn’t feel pleasant but it only takes a minute.”
Lucien was strongly reminded of another transformation that only took a minute, but was even less pleasant. He watched with growing dread as Elain’s body shook with tremors, and then started to morph before his eyes. Her hair straightened and receded into her head until the tips brushed her shoulders, her body swelled in some places and shrank in others. It stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and then she looked up.
The effect was so bizarre that Lucien stumbled a step back. Looking back at him was a woman he’d never seen before, with a sleek blond bob and piercing sky-blue eyes. Eris nodded appreciatively and chuckled as Elain looked down at herself, touching her hair, her new, foreign body.
“It worked!” she exclaimed. “This is so bizarre.”
“You have no idea,” Lucien agreed.
“Right! No time to waste. One for me, and one for you.” Eris split the rest of the potion into the remaining two vials, dropping in a single hair to both. One seemed to boil for a moment before turning a vibrant, unnatural shade of red, while the other thickened into what looked like molasses.
“I still don’t understand why I have to be you,” Lucien grumbled as Eris handed him the vial with the red liquid. “Why can’t I be the Auror?”
“Because people have seen me and Lara together.” He inclined his head towards Elain-Lara-who was now holding her hands in front of her face in awe. “So if you two have to make a run for it, it won’t look that suspicious that you’re together. As for this guy…” he held up the vial with the thick black-brown liquid. “Let’s hope nobody is stupid enough to question an Auror’s motives.”
Lucien sighed. “Fine.”
Eris clinked his vials and lifted it in mock cheers, and then downed the liquid. Lucien followed suit, immediately choking on the smoky, spicy liquid. He felt it burn all the way down his throat, worse than straight Firewhiskey. The next moment he was doubled over in pain, resisting the urge to vomit as the burning sensation spread to his limbs. It felt foreign and yet horribly familiar, and for a wild second it was the full moon, and the wolf was taking over. His bones were melting, his blood sizzling, his skin stretching until it split.
After what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes the pain faded, like a tap being turned off. Lucien looked down at himself and breathed a sigh of relief, shaking his head at his irrational thoughts. He hadn’t turned into the wolf-of course not. He was still himself, and yet not. His skin was fair and freckled, and when he went to run his hands through his long all his fingers found was empty air. Strangest of all, though, was his metallic eye, clicking and whirring away on the cobblestones at his feet where it had fallen straight out of his head. His hand immediately lifted to his face, feeling smooth skin where his scar should have been, and a squishy, decidedly natural eye where he should have felt metal.
“Huh!”
“Hmm. I’m pretty good looking,” Eris said with a grin.
His brother had morphed into an intimidating looking man with a shaved head and scruffy beard. Tattoos were inked into his shaved head, running down into his neck and chest, which was the approximate shape and size of a barrel. Lucien had to admit that if the goal was to look like someone who people would stay away from, it had been a good choice. He pocketed his golden eye, still clicking away in his pocket, as if it had been offended to be discarded in such a manner.
“Let’s go,” his brother said, in a voice that was deep and menacing and definitely not Eris’. “Stand up straighter, I don’t slouch like that.”
“Yes, brother,” Lucien replied, adopting Eris’ lazy drawl.
“This is so bizarre…” Elain repeated, looking at him warily.
They followed Eris into the telephone box at the end of the alley and watched curiously as he punched in a number. “Visitor’s entrance,” he explained. “We would have to prove our identity if we went by the employee’s entrance.”
A cool female voice filled the box. “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”
“John Dawlish, Lara Goldstein, and Eris Vanserra, on a…research mission,” Eris sad in Dawlish’s unfamiliar, rumbling voice.
“Thank you,” the voice said. “Visitors, please take your badges and pin them to the front of your robes.”
Three metal badges fell from a metal chute attached to the telephone. Lucien picked up the top one and snickered. Eris Vanserra- Research Mission.
“Visitors to the ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.”
“Too bad we’re visiting after hours,” Eris muttered under his breath.
The floor of the telephone box started vibrating, and then the ground was rising up to meet them as they descended underground. Darkness enveloped them, and then a moment later a soft, golden light filtered into their telephone box. The lift smoothly hit the ground and the door slammed open.
“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,” the disembodied voice said.
The Atrium was deserted, the lights dimmed lower than Lucien had ever seen them during the day. The midnight-blue ceiling was painted with golden symbols that twisted and swirled, bathing the lobby in an ethereal, warm light. The only sound was the gurgling of the water from the fountain in the center- jets of water fell from the upraised wands of a witch and wizard, the point of a goblin’s hat, and the pointy tips of a house elf’s ears.
Eris silently indicated the row of lifts on the other side of the lobby, and Lucien cringed as their footsteps echoed against the marble floor. It had all seemed easy enough when Eris was describing the plan, but here, now- it was starting to seem like an incredibly stupid thing to do.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea to split up?” Elain asked, looking around the deserted lobby uncertainly.
“We don’t have much time,” Eris said. “Besides, this way if I get caught I can just say the Minister asked me to fetch a report for him.”
“How will you even know where to look?” Lucien asked doubtfully. If Eris got caught snooping into their father’s office…it was madness.
“I’ll be quick, and then I’ll come join you. Look for the door with the gold marking. Don’t go into any other doors, under any circumstances. Do you hear me?”
Lucien and Elain both nodded mutely, neither of them particularly inclined to disagree. Eris pressed the down button set into the wall, and instantly a lift clattered into place. Lucien winced as the golden gate slid open, causing such a racket that he was surprised nobody had come running yet. The gate shut between them and Eris, and Lucien looked at Elain expectantly.
“Oh, right.” She cleared her throat. “Department of Mysteries,” she said, looking up at the ceiling. “Please.”
The lift shot down, so quickly that Lucien’s stomach lurched. And then sideways, and up, then down again, until he couldn’t be sure if they were above or below the Atrium. It reminded him of the maze of railways at Gringotts, designed to discourage potential thieves.
The lift hit the ground with a clang. “Department of Mysteries,” it announced, in the same cool female voice from the telephone box.
They were in a long, dark hallway, lit with torches flickering on the stone walls. It reminded Lucien strongly of the dungeon classrooms at Hogwarts, and something about that was not comforting. There was a single door at the end of the hall, and it swung open on silent hinges as they neared it. The room beyond was circular, its walls lined with smooth black doors with no handles. In between each door was a torch of flickering blue flames, which gave the space an eerie atmosphere, almost like being underwater.
The door clicked shut behind them, and all at once the walls started spinning. Faster and faster, until the flame from the torches was nothing but a streak of blue light. Lucien heard Elain inhale sharply as she reached for his hand.
The walls slowed, and then stopped. The doors were identical and unmarked, but Eris’ friend had done them a favor- the door to the Hall of Prophecy would be marked by a small gold marking near the bottom.
Lucien lit his wand with a whispered Lumos and crouched, inching around the circular wall until they stood in front of a door with a tiny golden mark near the bottom, no bigger than a thumbprint.
“This one.” He glanced over his shoulder to the door that led back to the hall, wondering how Eris was getting on with his ransacking of their father’s office, and froze. The doors all looked identical- including the door that led back to the hallway.
---
Elain gaped at the doors, suddenly feeling ill. A dozen of them, all identical. And, judging from Eris’ warning, some containing things they definitely did not want to find out about.
“Shit,” Lucien swore under his breath.
“It’s ok,” she said, her voice strangely high-pitched. “Eris will come join us, he’ll know the way out.”
She didn’t know whether she was saying it to reassure Lucien, or herself, and from the look on his face he didn’t seem at all convinced.
“We made it this far,” she continued. “We might as well go in. I just want to look. I just…want to see them.”
Lucien’s face (Eris’ face) softened, and it looked so wrong and so absurd that she almost laughed. “Of course. Lead the way, Lara.”
Elain laughed, her voice deeper and huskier than usual. “After tonight I never want to take polyjuice potion ever again.”
“What, you mean you don’t like seeing me as Eris?”
“I mean,” she shrugged. “He is pretty handsome.”
She laughed again at the pure horror on his face, and turned to face the door. “How do we…” She pressed a palm to the cool stone, and the door swung open easily.
As soon as they stepped into the hall beyond, the door swung shut behind them. Elain heard Lucien curse under his breath as they stood there, taking in the space with mute awe. The hall was cavernous, with rows upon rows of shelves, all lined with glass orbs filled with swirling, foggy mist. Exactly as it had been when she had seen it in the Pensieve.
“Holy shit,” Lucien said, sounding slightly stunned. “Holy shit.”
“Yup,” was all she could reply.
“These are all…”
“Prophecies,” she finished for him. “Visions, whatever.”
“Merlin. No wonder this place is kept a secret.”
They started down the main corridor, Lucien still gazing up at the stacks with open-mouthed awe. Elain could hear faint whispers coming from the prophecies, and even though she was prepared for it this time it still raised the hair on the back of her neck. She knew better than to ask if Lucien could hear them, too.
The whispering grew louder the further they walked, until their echoing footsteps were dulled, and the only sound she could truly hear were those voices. They seemed to beckon her, deeper into the stacks. She followed the call- it was like something was pulling her, a thread of something warm and bright tugging her forward.
“Elain?”
She heard his voice as if he was very far away and not directly behind her, but didn’t stop. A turn to the left, further into the stacks, and then she lurched to a stop. She heard a gasp behind her, felt Lucien’s fingers squeeze hers almost painfully.
There, in front of her, were dozens of glass orbs, all marked with her name and various dates. All filled with shimmering, swirling mist. All whispering to her, taunting her.
Do you see? they asked. Look, and you will see.
Her fingers were lifting of their own accord, until they hovered near the closest prophecy. Something tingled in her fingers, and then her hand, up her arm, like a current of electricity.
And then- footsteps, loud and hurried and insistent. Too loud. Whatever daze she had been in was broken, and she jerked her hand back, stumbling away from those prophecies. From that gap on the shelf, where one had indeed been taken. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but seeing it in a memory was one thing, and seeing it in person was another.
“Elain! Are you-Merlin, you went into some kind of trance…You were just standing there.”
Eris (no, not Eris-Lucien) was staring at her, amber eyes wide. The genuine concern in his gaze was so unlike Eris that the effect was comical.
Or, it would have been, were it not for the footsteps currently thundering towards them. Lucien grabbed her hand and turned, running back towards the door.
“What happened?” she whispered as they ran.
“I don’t know, someone must have spotted us.”
“Lara!” A voice boomed across the space. “Eris!”
“Shit!”
They cut to the left, and Elain slipped, bumping into the nearest shelf. Glass orbs fell to the floor with a crash, the mist within them releasing into the air. Whispers filled the space around them, words and phrases Elain couldn’t quite understand. The prophecies, she realized. She jerked to a stop and spun. There were images floating in the mist, a jumble of shapes and colors. And then, too quickly, the mist was gone, taking with it the prophecies it had contained.
And a figure was standing at the end of the row, wand out, face so menacing that Elain didn’t recognize him at first.
“Why were you running?” he demanded, panting heavily.
“Eris! Oh thank god!”
“Why didn’t you call our real names?” Lucien demanded. “You gave me a heart attack…”
“Don’t you know the meaning of being in disguise?”
Lucien opened his mouth to retort but Elain held up a hand before full-on squabbling took over.
“What happened? Why were you running?” she asked.
“We have to go,” he said simply. “Now.”
“What do you mean? Did you find the information you were looking for?”
Eris shook his head. “No. And honestly I’d be surprised if he even keeps that kind of information written down. But I did find this.”
He reached into a pocket of his cloak, and brought out a bundle wrapped in a piece of cloth. Wordlessly he peeled back the cloth to reveal a crystal ball, filled with swirling mist. A prophecy.
“Why did he have a….” Lucien trailed off as he surely realized what Elain already had.
“The stolen prophecy?”
Eris shrugged. “I don’t know for sure, but the fact that it was locked in a hidden compartment at the back of a cabinet in his office makes me think it might very well be.”
He wrapped the cloth around it again and handed it to her. Elain cradled it to her chest, feeling the slight electric buzzing of it even through the fabric.
“We have to leave,” Eris said again. “I must have triggered some sort of security system in father’s office.”
Elain’s stomach lurched in horror. If they were caught- by the Minister himself, no less…
“You’ll have to take the Floo Network back,” Eris called over his shoulder as they ran back towards the door. “Take a lift up to the Atrium, hurry to the nearest fireplace, and get the hell out.”
“And you?” Lucien asked. They reached the door and hurtled through it and into the chamber beyond.
Eris grimaced. “I’m going to lock myself in a toilet stall until the potion wears off, and then claim that I was burning the midnight oil and started feeling unwell.”
The door to the hall clicked shut, and before they could take another step the walls started spinning.
“Shit!” Eris swore.
The wall slowed to a stop, a dozen identical doors staring back at them.
“Yeah,” Lucien agreed. “Shit indeed.”
“Only one way to find out,” Eris said grimly.
He strode to the nearest door and pressed his palm against it. It swung open, revealing not a hallway lined with torches, but another room. It was dark inside, the only light coming from what looked like tanks filled with green water. There were things bobbing in the water, glowing strangely white.
Eris took a step back and slammed the door shut. “No! Definitely not that one.” He took out his wand and slashed through the air, and a glittering red X appeared on the door.
“What were those things?” Elain asked as the wall spun again. “Jellyfish?”
“Brains,” Eris said simply.
The wall stopped again, but this time one of the doors was marked off by a fiery mark, indicating the one they had already tried. Elain picked the next door, choosing the one closest to her.
When she opened it she almost stumbled backwards. She was standing at the top of what looked like stadium seats, facing a sunken platform. In the middle of the platform was an arch resting atop a dais, with a ragged black veil hanging from it.
“Do you hear that?” Elain asked, walking down a step. Whispers seem to come from the other side of the veil, which fluttered on a phantom wind. Like the whispers in the Hall of Prophecy, but darker- more menacing. Still, they reached out to her, and she took another step towards it.
Firm hands clasped on her upper arms and yanked her back into the antechamber, the archway and veil disappearing behind a firmly shut door. Once again it was like waking up from a vague sleep, or emerging from underwater. She shuddered violently as another red X appeared on the door, and the wall spun once more.
“Sorry,” she gasped, shaking her head as if to clear water from her ears. “Sorry.”
“Note to self,” Eris said in the Auror’s deep voice, “do not let a Seer into the Department of Mysteries by themselves.”
After trying three more doors in rapid succession they finally found the hall lined with torches. They hurried to the lifts, Eris tapping his foot impatiently with every second it took for the lift to appear.
“Remember,” he said as the lift twisted its way back up to the Atrium, “straight to the nearest fireplace. Don’t pause for anything or anyone. Just get the hell out and don’t worry about me. I’ll send word when I can.”
“Atrium,” the cool female voice said.
The lift doors opened onto a flurry of activity. Wizards (Aurors, if Elain had to guess) were stalking down the length of the lobby, waving their wands towards the fireplaces that lined the walls. Sealing off the exits, she realized.
“Go!” Eris mumbled through gritted teeth. “Go, now!”
Elain went to grab Lucien’s hand, but he wasn’t moving. He was standing stock-still, staring at Eris in horror.
“Eris…the potion…”
Elain saw it at the same time he did. Auburn hair was sprouting from Eris’ scalp, the tattoos disappearing from skin that was turning fair and freckled. She had taken the potion first, which meant…
The look on Lucien’s face (now a golden tan, his short hair lengthening) said it all.
“GO!” Eris roared.
They didn’t need to be told twice. Lucien grabbed her hand and hurtled towards the closest fireplace, lifting his leather jacket to hide his face. Elain held tightly onto the prophecy, cradling it to her chest like a small child.
“Hey! You there! What are you-“
The Aurors were halfway down the Atrium, but they halted at the sound of their footsteps.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!”
Elain almost lost her footing, struggling to keep up with Lucien’s long strides, but he hauled her upright before she could sprawl to the floor. A wind was blowing at their backs, propelling them faster, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who had cast the spell.
A heartbeat later they had reached the fireplace, and Lucien scooped up a handful of Floo powder from the jar hanging on a sconce next to the hearth. A gate slammed down over the fireplace next to them, but merry green flames had already burst to life in front of them.
“Hogwarts!” Lucien gasped breathlessly, and then they stepped into the flames.
For one desperate moment Elain thought it hadn’t worked, that Aurors had managed to seal their fireplace. But then the Atrium became a blur as they spun through the fire. Before the Ministry disappeared Elain had a last glimpse of the lifts, and of a figure disappeared behind a golden grill.
Just when she was beginning to feel nauseous from spinning the world slowed around them, and then stopped. They stumbled out of the gate, brushing soot from their clothes.
“Are you alright?” Lucien asked. The voice that spoke was the deep, rich one she knew so well, and when she looked up at him it was his face that looked back at her. Elain breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m fine. Are you- what’s wrong?”
Lucien’s hand was clasped over his left eye as he winced uncomfortably. “Remind me never to take polyjuice potion again.” His eye was clicking loudly, whirring as Lucien blinked rapidly, clearly trying to get the metal eye back into focus.
Elain looked around the room, and then froze. “Lucien,” she whispered. “Did you say Hogwarts?”
Lucien froze, his metal eye quieting as it finally focused. “Oh, fuck.”
They had taken the Floo Network directly into the teachers’ lounge. The room was blissfully empty, given the late hour- save for a lone, pearly figure hovering near the ceiling.
“Well well well,” the Poltergeist jeered, swooping down to peer at them. “What do we have here? Ickle students out of bed, in the middle of the night? Snooping through the teacher’s lounge?”
Elain and Lucien shared a glance. Had the poltergeist not seen them coming out of the flames?
“Peeves,” Lucien said, his tone carefully neutral. “We weren’t doing anything…”
But the Poltergeist was already swooping towards the door, cackling madly. “Students out of bed! Students out of bed!”
Elain winced as Peeves’ voice echoed around the empty room.
“Peeves, I swear to Merlin, you-” Lucien trailed off as the Poltergeist disappeared through the wall.
Elain glanced at Lucien again, and then they simultaneously bolted for the door. Halfway down the corridor Elain stopped short.
“Wait!”
Lucien whirled, alarmed. “What is it? We have to go, Peeves is going to wake up half the castle…”
She glanced at the prophecy in her hands, and then back at Lucien. Understanding flashed in his eyes.
“I need a place to hide this.” If the teachers found her with a prophecy belonging to the Ministry of Magic, they would have a lot more explaining to do beyond simply being out of bed after hours.
“Come with me,” Lucien said simply, and then turned and ran.
They ran down the hall and then up two flights of stairs, and down another, until Elain was beginning to wonder if Lucien had a plan at all. And then she saw the familiar tapestry of Sir Cadogan, who blinked at them sleepily as they hurtled past.
“Oy!” he cried. “Who goes there?” The trolls in tutus snored around him, some of them grumbling at the sudden noise.
Lucien ignored the painted knight, shut his eyes, and walked back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall that faced the tapestry. After the third pass a door appeared, and Elain didn’t waste any time before reaching for the knob and hurrying inside. Lucien followed her, shutting the door behind them.
“Why-“ Her question evaporated as she looked around them.
They were standing in some kind of cavernous hall, not unlike the Hall of Prophecy. But instead of shelves filled with glass orbs, the stacks stretching out in front of them were made of a wild variety of objects. Broken bits of furniture, books, paintings, boxes stacked ceiling-high. In a stack nearby Elain spotted a marble bust sporting a diadem, what looked suspiciously like an ordinary muggle lawnmower, and a wizard radio. A veritable graveyard of objects, lost or hidden or forgotten about. Generations of contraband, or treasures, or broken bits of detritus with no home. The perfect place to hide her own stolen treasure.
“How did you find this place?” She asked, looking around in wonder. If they hadn’t been in such a hurry she could have spent hours walking around, poking through the random collection of objects.
“We, ahh…discovered it when looking for a place to hide something,” he answered cagily. Elain rolled her eyes at him. “Turned out we clearly weren’t the first to require such a place. We can come back,” he added, as if reading her thoughts. “There’s some wild things in here. Rumor is there’s a Boggart somewhere…”
Elain froze with her hand halfway outstretched to an ancient-looking chest. “Really?”
Lucien’s eyes were glittering when she turned to look at him, and she shook her head at him. “Ass.”
Still, she no longer felt so confident poking around. She took a step back as Lucien pushed the lid open, peering inside. “Just some old moldy robes.”
Elain flipped back the fabric from the prophecy, taking one last glance at the murky, swirling mist inside. What knowledge did it contain?
Look, it urged her. See.
Another time. She covered it with the cloth and gently lowered it into the chest, covering it with a few robes for good measure.
“Let’s go. I’ve had enough adventures for one night.”
“Tapped out so soon?” Lucien asked in dismay. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
Elain opened her mouth to retort as they stepped back into the hallway, but then fell quiet. Professor Amren was standing with her arms crossed, wearing a thick wool robe and slippers and looking more than a little annoyed.
“Mr Vanserra,” she ground out ominously, “why is it that when something happens, it is always you?”
Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @labellefleur-sauvage @headcanonheadcase @separatist-apologist @velidewrites @c-e-d-dreamer @queercontrarian @hallway5 @areyoudreaminof @tuzna-pesma-snova @corcracrow @vulpes-fennec @octobers-veryown @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @asnowfern
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Request from my sister
alrighty! sorry this took a while.. still got a long line of asks ahead. wasn't sure which shredder to use so i used 2014/2016 since you requested for him before!
☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰
— bound by darkness
yandere! shredder x brother reader (platonic)
in the dimly lit lair of the foot clan, you found yourself in the presence of your older brother, oroku saki. shredder was known for his ruthless demeanor and lethal combat skills, but he also held a fierce and possessive love for you.
from a young age, shredder had taken on the role of your protector, watching over you with an intensity that bordered on obsession. he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you or taking away your attention. it was a complex brotherhood, one filled with both devotion and possessiveness.
as you trained side by side one day, the weight of shredder's gaze settled on you, a mix of pride and possessiveness glinting in his eyes. "you have grown stronger, brother," he remarked, his voice low and filled with a mixture of pride and possessiveness. "but you still have much to learn."
you nodded, a sense of unease tingling at the back of your mind. "i appreciate your guidance, brother. your teachings have shaped me into who i am today."
shredder's gaze intensified, his possessive nature ever-present. "you belong to me, y/n. together, we will surpass all others. prepare yourself."
your heart skipped a beat, torn between the love you felt for your brother and the suffocating grip of his possessiveness. while you valued his protection, a part of you yearned for independence and the chance to define your own path.
days turned into weeks, and shredder's obsession with you only intensified. he kept a watchful eye on your every move, intervening whenever he perceived a threat to your safety or loyalty. his control over your life grew stronger, his possessive nature tightening its hold.
one evening, after enduring a grueling training session, you found yourself alone with shredder in a dimly lit chamber within the lair. the air was thick with tension as you cautiously assessed your surroundings. shredder's predatory eyes never wavered, locked onto you with a hunger that sent chills down your spine.
"you are everything to me, y/n," he murmured, his voice a venomous whisper. "no one else can have you. i will never let you go, not as long as i draw breath."
a sense of dread washed over you, the realization sinking in that there was no escape from shredder's clutches. you were trapped in a nightmare, your freedom and autonomy slipping further away with each passing day.
"oroku," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling. "i can't deny the bond we share, but this possessiveness has become unbearable. i need my own identity, my own path."
shredder's expression contorted with a mix of rage and possessiveness, his grip on your arm turning painful. "you dare question my authority?" he seethed, his voice a menacing growl. "you are mine, y/n. you will submit to me or face the consequences."
a surge of terror coursed through your veins, yet a flicker of defiance ignited within you. you refused to succumb to the darkness that had consumed shredder's soul. it was time to reclaim your life, no matter the cost.
with every fiber of your being, you knew that breaking free from shredder's clutches would be an arduous battle. but the flame of defiance burned bright within you, guiding your every step towards liberation.
as days turned into weeks, you carefully planned your escape, seeking out allies within the foot clan who shared your discontent with shredder's tyrannical rule. together, you formed a clandestine alliance, united in your determination to overthrow the terrifying grip that shredder had over your life.
the path to freedom was treacherous, filled with hidden dangers and constant vigilance. shredder's eyes were everywhere, his network of loyal followers always ready to report any sign of rebellion. each step you took, each decision you made, was infused with the knowledge that one misstep could lead to catastrophic consequences.
yet, you persevered.
under the cloak of darkness, you and your newfound allies implemented a series of covert actions, slowly undermining shredder's hold on the foot clan. the seeds of doubt were sown, as whispers of dissent echoed through the lair's corridors, weakening the foundation of blind loyalty that shredder had built.
but shredder was no fool.
he sensed the uprising, the rebellion simmering beneath the surface. his rage grew, his possessiveness transforming into a relentless obsession to bring you back under his control. he would not let you slip through his fingers.
the tension reached its peak as you found yourself face-to-face with shredder, the battle lines drawn. his eyes blazed with a dangerous mix of fury and possessiveness, his hand tightly clutching his signature blades.
"you thought you could defy me, y/n?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "you underestimate my power, my determination. i will crush this rebellion and make you regret ever thinking of escaping."
summoning every ounce of courage, you made a valiant attempt to fight back, your determination flaring amidst the overwhelming odds. but shredder's cunning and agility were unmatched. in a swift, calculated move, he closed the distance between you, his prowess evident as he seized control of the situation.
with a bone-chilling crack, a wave of excruciating pain surged through your arm, as shredder's vice-like grip shattered your defenses. the sickening sound reverberated in the air, accompanied by a searing agony that caused you to collapse to the ground in a state of shock and vulnerability. wracked with pain, your broken arm lay twisted and limp, a testament to shredder's merciless power.
lying there, your arm throbbing with anguish, gasping for breath, you struggled to gather your wits amidst the searing pain.
with a vice-like grip, shredder forcefully hoisted you off the ground, his strength overwhelming. the air seemed to grow heavy as his fingers dug into your flesh, leaving behind painful imprints. a mixture of fear and defiance surged through your veins, but the reality of your situation settled upon you like a suffocating blanket.
"y/n, my dear brother," shredder sneered, his voice laced with a chilling mix of derision and entitlement. "you deluded yourself into thinking you could escape our bond, but you were sorely mistaken. you are mine, forever bound to me. you will never leave my side."
as shredder held you aloft, a sense of helplessness washed over you. the world seemed to spin, your movements restricted within his unyielding grasp. his words echoed in your ears, each syllable emphasizing the depths of his control, the unbreakable bond he believed he held over you.
the days turned into an endless cycle of control and manipulation. shredder kept you confined within the lair, stripping away any remnants of your individuality. your every move, your every thought, was dictated by his whims and desires. your spirit withered under his suffocating presence, as hope became a distant memory.
shredder sought to break your will and bend you to his every command.
the world beyond the lair became a mere illusion, a fading dream that you could never grasp. the walls that confined you grew tighter, suffocating any glimpse of freedom. shredder relished in your suffering, his obsession only intensifying with each passing day.
each night, as you lay in your cold, dimly lit cell, your mind would drift to thoughts of escape. but hope was a dangerous thing, a flame that flickered weakly amidst the darkness. the more you yearned for freedom, the more shredder tightened his grip, ensuring that you would never slip from his grasp.
#shredder#yandere shredder#y/n#reader insert#x reader#angst#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#bayverse#tmnt bayverse#tmnt 2014#tmnt 2016#bayverse shredder#ask
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𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 [Kyumin & Jeremy]
. 𓇬 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘 .
sender and receive watch as something burns. ( a building ).
as the flames devoured the once-sturdy walls of the government building, jeremy and kyumin stood at a safe distance, watching the inferno with a mix of exhilaration and satisfaction. embers pirouetted through the air, casting an eerie glow on their faces as they bore witness to the culmination of their carefully laid plans.
jeremy's eyes shimmered with life as he surveyed the scene. ❛⠀it's like witnessing poetry in motion,⠀❜ he whispered, his voice tinged with a subtle undercurrent of menace. ❛⠀the symbol of their authority reduced to ashes.⠀❜
for a fleeting moment, jeremy cool facade cracked, revealing the simmering intensity beneath. ❛⠀a necessary blow,⠀❜ he added, ❛⠀ to remind them , of just who we are.⠀❜
in reverent silence, they watched as the flames swallowed the building, a tangible embodiment of their defiance against the established order. for jer and kyu, this act of destruction was not just a means to an end—it was a declaration of war.
as the blaze raged on, casting shadows that danced across the landscape, the two exchanged a knowing glance. in the flickering light of the fire, they saw their future—a world where they reigned supreme, unbound by the constraints of society. and as they stood there, united in their villainy, they knew that no one could stand in their way.
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Raging Waves and Infernal Fury: Ulysses and Devlin Bitter Confrontation
@pyrokineticwarrior
As Devlin tracked Ulysses down into the cave, tension filled the air. The trained warrior Devlin, approached cautiously, his senses on high alert. Ulysses, a sea warlock and son of Poseidon and Medusa, knew that his actions had caught the attention of those who sought to stop him.
Ulysses, aware of Devlin's presence, emerged from the shadows of the cave, his eyes glowing with a mix of power and defiance. The atmosphere crackled with the clash of their opposing backgrounds and missions.
Devlin, determined to fulfill his task of hunting down Ulysses, raised his weapon, prepared for battle. His eyes narrowed as he spoke, his voice steady but filled with resolve. "Ulysses, your reign of chaos in the seas must come to an end," Devlin declared, his tone firm. "The Kraken's wrath and the sinking of countless ships will not be tolerated. I am here to bring you to justice."
Ulysses, his demeanor calm yet tinged with an undercurrent of defiance, met Devlin's gaze head-on. He understood the weight of his actions but also believed in the power and freedom of the sea. "Devlin, I understand your mission, but you must understand the depths of my connection to the ocean," Ulysses responded, his voice resonating with a mix of regret and determination. "The sea is in my blood, and I have a duty to protect its wonders and maintain its balance. The Kraken is a force that safeguards the natural order, even if it appears destructive."
As the conversation between Ulysses and Devlin escalated, their inability to reach a compromise fueled their frustration. The tension in the cave grew palpable, and their words took on a sharper tone.
Devlin, his anger rising, clenched his fists, his face contorted with determination. "Ulysses, your actions are reckless and endanger countless lives! Your allegiance to the sea blinds you to the suffering you cause. You are a menace that must be stopped!"
Ulysses, his eyes flashing with defiance, didn't back down. "And you, Devlin, with your rigid adherence to rules and order, fail to see the bigger picture. The sea is a force of nature, and sometimes it demands chaos to maintain its balance. Your narrow-mindedness blinds you to its true power."
Eventually, their words grew harsher, each hurling insults and accusations at the other. The frustration and animosity between them reached its peak, clouding their judgment and preventing them from finding common ground. "You're nothing more than a pawn of Hades, Devlin," Ulysses spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your allegiance to the underworld has made you blind to the beauty and freedom of the sea. You're just a soulless warrior devoid of true understanding."
Devlin's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted, "And you, Ulysses, are nothing but a reckless sea monster, a creature that revels in destruction. You're a danger to humanity, and your arrogance knows no bounds."
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Flight of Redemption || A Drabble of Maverick & Evangeline
@icarian-carrion
tw: poison tw: violence
Maverick's heart raced as he approached the door to the private chambers. He had sensed an unsettling tension between his wife, Evangeline, and Jocasta's daughter, Salome, for some time now. The jealousy and resentment had been growing, casting a dark cloud over their otherwise peaceful home.
As he quietly pushed open the door, his suspicions were confirmed. There stood Evangeline, hunched over a small table, meticulously mixing ingredients in a vial. The concoction emitted a pungent aroma that made Maverick's senses tingle with alarm.
His eyes narrowed, Maverick's voice cut through the silence. "Evangeline, what are you doing?"
Startled, Evangeline turned to face him, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. "Maverick, it's not what you think," she stammered, attempting to hide the vial behind her back.
But Maverick's instincts kicked in, his fae senses heightened by the danger he sensed. In a swift motion, he lunged forward, grabbing Evangeline's wrist before she could conceal the evidence. The vial slipped from her grasp and shattered on the floor, its contents scattering across the room.
Maverick's eyes blazed with a fiery intensity, his anger intensifying as the weight of Evangeline's betrayal settled in his heart. The feral energy within him surged, causing his body to tremble with a mix of rage and sorrow.
With a primal roar, Maverick's dragon wings unfurled, their magnificent span casting a shadow over the room. The air crackled with the raw power emanating from him as he bore his teeth, his features contorted with unbridled fury.
"What have you done?" With a deep, menacing tone he growled. "You thought you could harm an innocent girl, someone I hold dear to my heart, out of your own selfish jealousy?"
Evangeline heaved, her expressions warping to something conniving and evil. "And I will! I can't stand her, I can't stand you and that child- and that- that- Jocasta! How DARE you- how could you make her your mate?!"
"It wasn't a choice! My dragon chose her-"
"I wish your fucking dragon would just DIE. I hate that bitch, Jocasta! I will kill her too-! That bloody murderess, she deserves to be hanged at the gallows... Eep!"
Maverick clutched Evangeline by the throat, the skin of his hand turning scaly as his transformation initiated. With his free hand, he tore through her exposed fae wings, his eyes wild with a ferocity where there was no going back.
"Oh- you'll pay... you'll pay dearly for that."
Amidst the raging storm, screams pierced through the air as they soared out of the open window. The dragon's powerful talons gripped the princess by the arms tightly as they ascended, rain cascading down upon them. Hovering above the menacing forest of thorns, a sense of danger and a solid promise permeated the atmosphere.
And then- he released.
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“And all the souls on earth shall sing
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day!
And all the souls on earth shall sing
On Christmas Day in the morning!
Then let us all rejoice again
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day!
Then let us all rejoice again
On Christmas Day in the morning...”
~“I Saw Three Ships (cover)” by Blackmore’s Night
x~x~x~x
Happy Christmaween! xoxo 🎃🎄
x~x~x~x
When the spirit of Orion Amari, otherwise known as the Wanderer, was finally allowed to stay at the Cromwell Manor, all of the ghosts there were finally able to rest easier as well. The combination of the Phantom’s anger and the Bride’s melancholy had been an unpleasant shadow over them for a while, and it was a relief when it finally passed. In fact, since the Wanderer had appeared at the Manor, the Bride’s aura had been oddly lighter. On those few occasions she left the attic, often to clean or close the curtains before dawn, the glow of her eyes and heart brought a strange warmth to the space around her. It helped mitigate the dark ire of the Phantom that continuously emanated off of the attic.
Over the next three decades, the Wanderer and the Beating Heart Bride would exchange covert messages through the songs they sang in each other’s earshot. It was the only way that was safe for them to communicate, since the Phantom had forbidden the Beating Heart Bride to speak to Orion, or for him to come anywhere near the attic again. Fortunately, as strange as this new language of theirs was, it ended up working rather well for both of them.
Highland Mary was exchanged for Blowing in the Wind -- If You Could Read My Mind was exchanged for The Fair Maid -- Imagine, for Over the Hills and Far Away. I’m a Believer ended up getting Orion banished for a second time, after the Phantom heard the Bride humming the unfamiliar tune while cleaning the upstairs banisters and later caught Orion playing it on his guitar. Orion’s return was marked with still more remorse and shame with Sweet William’s Ghost, as well as forgiveness and resolve through Our Day Will Come.
As the years passed, both of the ghosts’ fondness for each other grew. It made Orion’s resolve to break the Bride’s chains all the stronger, and it made the Bride try all the more to keep Orion at a distance, for fear of the Phantom’s anger. She would frequently try to ward Orion back with parting songs like Ae Fond Kiss, only for Orion to return a My Heart Has a Mind of Its Own or I’m Telling You Now, or even to come upstairs in open defiance of the Phantom’s orders to speak to the Bride directly.
“I cannot sing this as well as you, so I will say it plainly: I am not giving up. I will set you free, no matter what it takes. No matter how much the Phantom may rage, I will weather his storms. I will weather them, as you do, until you’re finally free of him and you never have to weather them again.”
This pronouncement, when overheard by the Phantom, got Orion banished a third time. The Bride only managed to convince the Phantom to rescind that banishment in time for the winter holidays, at which time the Bride sang songs she’d picked up from other ghosts like the Performer @ag907 and the Child Spirit’s wards @dat-silvers-girl in celebration.
“I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas day, on Christmas day!
I saw three ships come sailing in
On Christmas day in the morning!”
The Phantom may have complained about the Bride interacting with “such lowlifes,” but his menacing aura did seem oddly settled, hearing his captive singing so brightly. The Bride’s happiness had lightened up the rest of the Manor too -- Orion soon heard the Ghost Host and many other similarly red-haired ghosts singing Christmas carols around the house too (though much more off-key), as if hoping she’d hear and sing along with them.
Orion himself, though, showed his joy by playing a song on his guitar on the stairs, as always.
“Someday soon, we all will be together, if the Fates allow...
Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow...
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now...”
For once, while playing, Orion felt a cold gloved hand close over the shoulder of his jacket. When he looked up, the Bride instantly withdrew, her gloved hands flying up to her glowing red heart as she closed her eyes and turned away.
“Bride...”
When Orion made as if to comfort her, she quickly brought a hand up to his lips to quiet him. He flushed, startled, as she looked up at him, her lips spread in a slightly strained smile and her yellow eyes blazing with both sorrow and fondness. Then, slowly and gently, she backed away, fading away into the wall and up toward the ceiling.
“Have yourself...a merry little Christmas...”
The song was on the Bride’s lips quite a bit, over the next few weeks. Perhaps because the Phantom didn’t know Orion was its source, it seemed to soothe the attic’s menacing aura somewhat, making it far gloomier and more longing than hostile.
In the three years following that Christmas, Orion experimented, trying to figure out how to play some songs the Bride would sing on his guitar. He’d gotten quite practiced at Spanish Ladies, after playing it off and on in a corner of the main bar in Liberty Square over the course of a year. He’d sort of been hoping to surprise the Bride by playing one of her favorite songs, so she could sing along as he played.
It was while practicing the chords for Barbara Allen that the Wanderer was first approached by a tall young man he’d never seen before.
“Hey. You.”
Orion finished playing out the chord before sparing one eye to look up at the young man. He was dressed in a green and white track suit with a white T-shirt underneath that said “I Hear Dead People” printed across it.
“You’re the one the locals call the ‘Wanderer,’ right?” he asked. His voice was a low, cynical Southern drawl.
Orion’s eye lingered on the strange words on the young man’s shirt before darting up to his face.
“I am called many things,” he said airily. “‘Wanderer’ is one of them. ‘That weird man’ is another. And ‘Orion Amari’ is another still.”
The man wrinkled his nose when he frowned, clearly bewildered.
“...All right, then,” he said uneasily. “Mr. Amari...I’m Duncan Ashe -- I’m a paranormal investigator, here to look into the hauntings of Cromwell Manor. I’d like to know what you know about the so-called ‘Headless Man...’”
Orion’s interest was piqued at once. Little did he know, though, just how consequential this meeting would end up being...and how much it would change his afterlife forever.
#hphm#hogwarts mystery#my art#carewyn cromwell#orion amari#blaise cromwell#sarahi silvers#gwen dunmoore#other people's mcs#my writing#haunted mansion#haunted mansion au#lol recycled art#wow to think I did that art a year ago now...#but hey at least I finally get to draw ghost bride carewyn looking *happy* for once!#she really had a rough time of it trapped for almost two hundred years#but she found comfort in a few things#and knowing orion was once again somewhere peaceful and she'd be able to hear his voice again during the holidays was a small joy#the wittle ghosties didn't really turn out the way I wanted ugh#I kind of wanted a 'paper cut out' kind of look like with the ghosts from the night on bald mountain segment in fantasia#since they're not fully materialized and just passing through#but ehhhh#but anyway this line of this particular cover?? like?? christmaween vibes or what??#honestly the whole vibe is very folksy and I love it#but yeah technically where I am and in a lot of the U.S. it's still halloween but in other parts of the world halloween is over already#so this works :D
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CLAWS EMERGE FROM VELVET COLORED FOG, CLASPING AROUND CRIMSON’S THROAT BEFORE CRANING HIS HEAD UPWARDS TO MEET HER WIDE GRINNED EXPRESSION.
“ THE THICK TAR IS BLACK, THE DYING BRAMBLE SOAKED IN MUD —
YOU ARE LOOKING QUITE RAVISHING, I WOULD LOVE TO TASTE SUCH RICH BLOOD ~ . “
It’s a CRYPTIC version of ‘roses are red, violets are blue’ . Digits stroke along the spade of his tail, her tone dropping to a lower octave,
“ Darling, darling crimson blood ~ . “
[for the record, this made me cackle. Betty, Betty, you weird effing menace. Crimson is just over here like ????]
Crimson looked up slowly, yielding to her demanding claws, as she began speaking. Although he was outwardly calm, he was pure rage on the inside, blinding white rage at being handled like this. It showed somewhat in the way his eyes seemed both to darken and to heat at once, and he lifted his chin more than her grip demanded--calm defiance.
Still, he heard her out--at least until she touched his tail.
He would kill her. He had a few items of angelic steel. He would fucking kill her--
But no. No. Suppressing a growl, remaining deeply silent, deeply calm, he pushed his anger down. He hadn't gotten to where he was in life by being rash. Even if he had gotten colder and colder in recent years, that cold only helped, didn't it? It was an asset, changing one's blood out for ice-water, removing one's heart and putting an untouchable void in its place.
His eyes seemed brighter than usual, glued to hers, as he reached up and wrapped a hand around her wrist, having already flicked his tail out of reach.
"Romantic. But we ain't romantic yet, doll. What's going on?" Because this was surely a ruse. Betty wasn't stupid. She had eyes. She had to know better than to ever try to romance someone who had abandoned his conscience long ago... even if she didn't know how he'd done it.
"You need blood tonight? I can call someone in."
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At the tender age of six, Leah found herself drawn to the training yard of the Lannister castle, her eyes wide with wonder as she watched her brothers, Jason and Tyland, spar with swords in hand. The clang of metal against metal echoed through the air as the brothers danced in a graceful and deadly dance, their movements fluid and precise. But as Leah watched, her amusement turned to surprise when Tyland managed to best Jason, causing him to tumble to the ground in defeat.
A small giggle escaped Leah’s lips, her laughter innocent and pure, until Jason’s furious glare bore into her like daggers. Storming towards her with a look of rage etched upon his face, he demanded to know what she found so amusing. Unwavering, Leah stood her ground, refusing to cower in the face of her brother's anger. "I laughed because you fell," she admitted boldly, her words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Enraged by her defiance, Jason's temper flared, his grip on Leah's wrist tightening painfully as he berated her for her insolence. With a sneer of contempt, Jason loomed over Leah, his voice dripping with malice as he uttered his cruel words. "You're nothing but a burden, Leah," he spat, his eyes flashing with disdain. "No one cares for you in this family. Not me, not Tyland, not even our father." His words struck Leah like a blow to the heart, each syllable a painful reminder of her loneliness and isolation.
"You think you're special because you carry the name Lannister," Jason continued, his tone laced with venom. "But you're just a nuisance, a stain on our family's reputation. No matter what father preaches about you being my sister, I will never accept such. Even so if you don't want Father to disown you like the worthless mongrel you are, then you better learn to be useful when you're older."
As she stared up at her brother, tears streaming down her cheeks, Leah's voice trembled with emotion as she screamed out to Jason, her words filled with pain and desperation. "You've always treated me like dirt, Jason!" she cried, her voice echoing through the empty courtyard. "But I'm your sister! We're family, and family should treat each other equally and dearly. Like lions do in a pack!" Her words hung in the air, a plea for understanding and acceptance, but Jason's cold expression remained unchanged, his heart unmoved by her heartfelt plea.
"Listen here, you little brat," Jason's voice dripped with venom as he towered over Leah, his eyes ablaze with anger. "You think you can talk back to me? At your age, you should show me more respect, not sass. Otherwise, I'll have no qualms about burning another one of your precious belongings, just like I did last time." His threat hung heavy in the air, sending a shiver down Leah's spine as she recalled the pain of losing something dear to her.
"And this time," Jason continued, his voice low and menacing, "I'll make sure you watch every agonizing second of it. Maybe then you'll learn your place in this family." With those chilling words, Leah felt a cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach, knowing that Jason's cruelty knew no bounds and that she was powerless to stop him. And yet in that moment of despair, she made a silent vow to herself that she would prove Jason wrong, to forge her own path and fly away from these shackles of oppression.
#dream dove (leah)#background#Yeah Leah and Jason do not share eye to eye#though her favorite sibling is Tyland#sure he didn’t stand up for her but she later on came to see that he too was afraid of Jason anger
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