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missskzbiased · 3 years

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I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You (21)

Genre: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, Fluff, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 9,2K

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Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness

Tag List: here

Notes: SO! I hope you guys like it. I’m sorry for the delay. Next one will probably take some time as well. I’m an anarchist now, and updates will come out as I finish the chapters or once a week, no schedules.

PLEASE! Tell me if there is anything you would like to read regarding cute/suggestive scenes so I can include them <3

////

You closed the door behind you with a heavy sigh.

It had been just a few hours ─ if you could call about eight hours just a few ─ but it felt like time enough to last for a week; the exhaustion from a day too long crushing you mercilessly. You hesitated for a second, staring at the woody surface as you held the doorknob, before letting out another sigh while dropping your shoulders. The soft thud that filled your ears as you rested your forehead on the door was somewhat comforting, emphasizing the silence that met you in the living room.

Fucking finally.

Perhaps you were just too overwhelmed by all the things that happened along the day but as you wandered your eyes to the floor ─ meeting the familiar surface under your feet ─ there was an impossibly tight feeling in your chest that urged to be released. The realization that you were indeed at home crawled you little by little, getting to your mind and making you tear up. You never thought that day would come to an end but then you were right there in your living room, enjoying the comforting silence of your home.

You inhaled deeply, feeling every single corner of your lungs being filled by the air and holding it in as you closed your eyes to focus on everything that you shut away inside your head. The flickering thought that crossed your mind ─ two dark orbs that dived into your soul; a hurt twinkle dancing in them ─ made your breath falter for a second. The urge to cry hit you like a truck, and as soon as you choked on your own emotions and memories, the moment died in your throat.

You couldn’t let Paris see you crying for him.

You opened your eyes slowly, frowning as you focused on the complete lack of any sounds in the dorm. Why was it so silent in here? You detached your forehead from the door, turning around with narrowed eyes that roamed around the place just to find it empty. What was going on? You finally placed your eyes on the TV ─ turned off, therefore explaining the lack of the background noises ─, confused as to why Paris wasn’t watching it as usual.

“Paris?” You called unsurely, stepping away from the door to get a better look inside the house, “Paris?” You tried again, knocking on her door before opening it and peeking inside her room. No one to be seen. You frowned as you closed the door, divided between feeling relieved or worried about her absence.

Did she mention anything to you?

You roamed your eyes around the room again, looking for any piece of paper that could vaguely resemble a note but finding nothing in sight. There was something definitely wrong here. It wasn’t like Paris to go out so late at night… Especially without a previous warning. Did something happen to her? You pursed your lips, fumbling through your pockets to find your phone ─ hopeful of any kind of message or missed calls ─ and setting your sadness and tiredness aside for a moment.

No message or missed calls.

As much as you wanted to be alone ─ finally allowed to mourn over your poorly made decisions ─, you didn’t want to be crying while Paris could be out there in need of a friend. At the same time, the realization that it was yet another thing to deal with at the end of this excruciating day didn’t help much. The way your eyes turned watery again brought another heavy sigh out of your lips as you rubbed your face in distress, trying to organize your thoughts.

You pinched your nose bridge ─ index and thumb holding it firmly ─ before you let your fingers slide to make some pressure on your eyes. The motion ─ the closest thing that you would have from a calming massage ─ was barely able to ease your nerves, relieving the pent-up stress in an unsatisfying way that would have to be enough for now. You felt your eyebrows knitting as you tried to hold back your tears; lips quivering and chin trembling.

You had to organize your thoughts… You should be thinking… You should be doing something… You should make a decision… Why weren’t you calling her? Why were your feet stuck on the floor? Why weren’t you running or yelling or crying or –

The creaking sound snapped you out of your thoughts and your eyes glued to the entrance as the opening door revealed a smiling Paris carrying some plastic bags. You let go of your phone to stare at her blankly; arms dropping to your sides as she closed the door behind her. The way she walked to the counter ─ placing the bags there without much thought ─ was an incredible indicator that she was fine as hell and you were worrying over nothing.

Honestly? You didn’t even have the energy to be mad at her.

“You’re here” There was something under her tone that raised your suspicion immediately. The sentence hung in somewhere between excitement and acknowledgment, and you couldn’t help but frown at her input “I bought us some stuff” She shifted to a somewhat knowing tone, looking at you with glinting eyes as she gestured to the bags.

Usually, you would ask what was going on with her. Or at least you would study each motion and pattern she had ever presented to you so you could figure it out. But not today. No… Not today. Today you just wanted to go to your bed, tuck yourself inside your blankets and bawl your eyes out for rejecting Hyunjin.

You wanted to suffer for something you put yourself into and were now regretting. You wanted to be alone, and safe, and able to ignore anything that could add to your already stressful day. You wanted to ignore Paris and any strange antics she was displaying right now for whatever reason she had.

You wanted to feel at home.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m here” You agreed mindlessly, averting your eyes to your door and nodding your head at it “And now I’m going there,” You said, forcing a small smile as you took the first step to your safety nest. You didn’t miss the way her expression dropped ─ a mix of shock, confusion, and upsetness going through her face ─ but you choose to ignore it as you took another step towards your goal.

“Wait” She blurted; eyes darkening as she looked at you “Don’t you want to tell me about your day?” She sounded conflicted ─ maybe even offended ─ as she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the side “I thought… I thought that since I missed classes yesterday and we didn’t have much time to talk…” She mumbled unsurely, frowning before averting her eyes “And today…” She trailed off, darting her eyes back to you.

Today?

There was just so much one could ignore and pretend not to notice at all… As much as you wanted to believe it was all a coincidence, you didn’t really think that Paris would show up with your favorite ice cream and wanting to talk about your day ─ especially today ─ if she didn’t know anything. You stopped in your tracks, sighing before turning around to look at her with narrowed eyes.

“What about it?” You asked just to throw her off, watching as she licked her lips before biting them ─ a quirk that showed up every time she was anxious ─ and swallowing dry “Do you have anything to say to me?” It was clear by your tone that you had picked up on something, and the way she darted her eyes around the room to avoid yours was a good indication that she knew it too.

Paris and Chan were working together.

You should have seen it earlier ─ actually, it had been happening quite a lot to you lately, hm? ─ but you had no doubts now. Of course, it could be just another gossip going around… Maybe someone had seen both of you? No… Paris wouldn’t just believe in a rumor like this… Not to the point of showing up with your favorite ice cream and asking about your day… Not to the point to get that disappointed.

On the other side, there was someone who Paris would believe on the spot… Someone that knew far too well why you were waiting for Hyunjin. Someone who knew your feelings and his. Someone who was encouraging you to go after him. Someone who tried to trick him and make him jealous just so he would do something about it. Someone who made sure to clear his real intentions up before walking away… Someone who had been suspiciously close to Paris lately.

There was no way they weren’t working together.

“No… It’s not that I have something to say but…” You watched as she uncrossed her arms, letting them drop to her sides, “I mean… It’s just that I thought… I guessed you would…” She floundered before clearing her throat; the nervous antics confirming your assumptions “… Want some ice cream after a long day?” She risked, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace than anything else.

“Unbelievable” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Fine!” She whined, pouting as she stomped the floor “Chan told me you and Hyunjin had a talk today, okay?” She confessed bitterly as you threw her a disappointed look “I’m sorry but I am waiting for that ship to sail for too long to not be curious!” She said as if it was a good way to defend herself “Can you blame me for wanting to hear that you finally got someone who loves you?” She tried to appeal, getting another scoff.

“Yes, I can” You said matter-of-factly, huffing before looking away from her for a second “It’s my personal life, Paris! You shouldn’t be meddling with it!” You scolded, returning your gaze to meet hers “Now what? You and Chan will be like two old ladies gossiping about my life behind my back?” You sneered, huffing “My love life is none of your business” You reminded her, tone wavering slightly with the anger boiling inside you.

You weren’t quite sure what made you react the way you did.

It was like your mind had split up into two different trains of thoughts that were totally opposing each other. On one side, you felt the need to be focused and rational, so you pursed your lips and tried to stay composed, pretending to be calm on the outside. On the other side, the sadness was giving way to anger and it boiled and burned you in the unhealthiest way possible.

You wanted to scream and cry and fight and be mad and… Anything.

You wanted anything that could put all your fears away.

Maybe that was why you were being such an asshole.

“Hey” Paris blurted in surprise; brows arching as she stared at you without a clue of what was happening “What the hell?” She didn’t sound offended as she said it but lost, frowning at you while tilting her head “You don’t seem too happy… Didn’t he… I mean… I thought you would be really happy right now” She admitted, trying to play dumb and not give away his feelings.

“Yes, he did” You answered blandly; a faux calm settling in your face as you stared at her blankly “He confessed; if that’s what you’re wondering” Of course, you knew far too well that this was exactly what she wanted to know. You knew that your next line would get you into an argument but somehow you didn’t care; you even urged for it “I rejected him” You stated simply, watching for her reaction.

The expectation raised on you as Paris seemed shocked by your input; eyes lost in yours as she didn’t have a clue of what to do now. You studied the lack of expression on her face, catching the slight change when a hundred thoughts seemed to cross her head at a time. You pursed your lips as her brows slowly knitted together ─ as if each second that went by made her realize what you had just said ─ until she finally frowned at you, mad eyes connecting to yours.

“You did what?!” Her tone was heavy and stern, a reprehension that fueled you as she scrunched her nose to show you how she despised your decision “Y/N!” That was it! That was the anger you were looking for “Why would you do that?! You like him!” She inquired in dismay; eyes diving into yours to find any signs that could explain your behavior.

“What does it have to do with anything?” You knew you were being obnoxious and Paris swallowed it hook, line and sinker. The way her eyes glinted in disappointment and outrage fueled you to keep pushing her boundaries “I don’t get why you’re so interested… It’s not like you want him anyway” She scoffed, averting her eyes to try and not take her anger out on you.

“You know what?” She sighed, still refusing to look at you “I don’t get you” She shook her head in wonder; the grimace present in her face insinuating how pissed off she was “I don’t get what is going on inside your head… I really don’t” She admitted, returning her gaze to you “You’re being ridiculous and I know you know it” She added “I just don’t understand why” She stared at you, disgusted at your antics.

“Maybe you should ask Chan” You taunted, getting a scoff as she rolled her eyes, tilting her head to look at the ceiling in a fed-up manner. You watched her curiously, waiting for her to blow up but she didn’t. Paris returned her gaze to you once more and threw you a look that almost made you ashamed of yourself.

Almost.

Because that was exactly what you wanted.

You longed for her outburst.

“I’m not going to play this game” She smirked knowingly; surprising you as she seemed to pick up on your plans “If you want to fight, you need to do way better than that” She grimaced, shaking her head to show that she wouldn't give what you wanted “If you have all this energy to keep bullshiting me then go to Hyunjin and sort things out, Y/N” She sighed, scowling “What do you expect me to do? Yell at you?” She scoffed, arching her brows skeptically.

“Yes…” You didn’t intend to answer her so honestly but before you knew it, the word hung in the air heavily, making you shrink. You lowered your head, peeking at her reaction just to see her expression morphing into a surprised one, clearly not expecting you to actually answer her “I mean… No, of course not” You lied, voice so low that you couldn’t even convince yourself.

“I don’t understand” She admitted simply, tilting her head in wonder. You noticed how she started moving away from the counter ─ careful as a hunter afraid that their prey might run away ─ and came in your direction with hesitant steps “Why would you want me to yell at you?” She asked with caution, glancing at you unsurely.

“Because I deserve it…” You muttered under your breath, prompting her to hum in confusion, questioning you again without any words “Because I deserve it!” You finally snapped; head going up to allow you to meet her eyes. She yelped ─ startled at your break out ─, looking at you with wide confused eyes that couldn’t grasp what was going on “Because I’m a coward, Paris!” You added; voice shaking as you let the tears roll down your face and eyes overflowing with hurt and regret.

“Y/N…” She mumbled; pity oozing from her eyes.

“Don’t Y/N me!” You cut her off “Yell at me, Paris! For Lord’s sake! Yell at me! Tell me I’m wrong! Tell me I’m awful! Anything!” You wailed, hand going to rub your face and wipe away some of the tears “Anything! Just tell me that I’m a coward! Tell me that I do nothing but run away! Tell me…” You hicked up, choking on your own tears as you let yourself slowly go to the ground.

You curled up as you sat, rocking your body back and forward.

“Tell me I don’t deserve him… Tell me I blew everything up…” You begged, raising your eyes to meet hers. You could feel your face twisting in a pained grimace that threw her off for a second “Tell me I’m a coward, Paris… Please, tell me I’m a coward…” You couldn’t help but curl up again, hands pressing hard against your eyes as you let all your feelings out of your chest; the crying loud and ungraceful.

She stared at you silently; gaze burning your skin.

“Why don’t you yell at me?” You mewled; swollen eyes going back to meet hers in a suffering question that you knew she wouldn’t answer “Why can’t you do this, Paris? I’ve been bad… I did everything wrong again… I messed everything up and I can’t stop doing it!” She kept her silent stare at you, and the lack of response prompted you to keep rambling “I run and run and run and run… And I keep coming back to the same mistakes again, Paris” You vented; hand going to rub your running nose and wet cheeks.

Again, she just stared at you.

“Say something!” You yelled, eyebrows knitting together in renewed anger “Anything, Paris! Hit me if you want! I don’t know… Just…” You tried to fight back the quivering in your lips, tangling yourself with your own arms before lowering your head again “Just hurt me…” You pleaded, shutting your eyes as much as you could “Gimme a reason to cry, Paris…” You choked on your own words, hiding your face from her as you burst out in tears once more “I don’t wanna cry for him” You mumbled, voice muffled.

The steps echoed in the room along with your crying but you didn’t raise your head to follow her path, shrinking when you felt two arms wrapping you. The warmth provided was very welcomed, and you leaned on her touch; the unexpected tenderness being enough for you to pour everything out of your chest. You felt Paris kissing the top of your head, no words being said as she silently supported you through your breakdown.

“I’m so sorry” You howled but what you really meant was thank you.

////

You stared at the dancing branches above you.

The light beams that managed to get through the heavy layer of leaves decorating said branches painted the air with thin yellowish strings that caught your attention. You let your mind wander as your eyes followed every single notch that came together into a messy crease pattern, getting distracted by the falling leaves that blocked the beams every once in a while. The moment meant to be calming and reassuring to your soul but you couldn’t help but feel melancholic as the grass underneath you tickled your skin, reminding you of brighter days.

It was kind of funny how the blue sky peeking at you behind the treetop, the insufferably shiny sun casting beams all around, and the perfectly shaped clouds couldn’t brighten up your mood. As much as you could tell that this was a beautiful day ─ maybe the most beautiful day of the whole season ─, you couldn’t feel healed by any of this. You could see it was all dazzling and colorful and perfect… Yet, you felt exactly the same as if it was a cloudy rainy day with nothing but grey to take in.

The wind fanned all over the place; a soft puff that intensified the branches’ dance and disturbed the sunbeams’ path, allowing it to hit right at your face. The forced warmth wasn’t enjoyable and the sudden brightness that hit your eyes was even less welcomed, prompting you to close them shut. The motion was harmless and it wouldn’t bring you any suffering on any other day but something about it brought you everything you were trying to push aside right now.

Perhaps it was the fact that you cried so much on the day before that your swollen eyes felt too heavy ─ even if you had plenty of time to get used to it by noon ─ and closing them just reminded you of your own feelings. Perhaps it was the fact that closing your eyes brought you the urge to cry again ─ even if you had already cried enough for an entire lifespan ─, reminding you of the sadness you pretended not to feel right now. Perhaps it was the fact that the blackness and emptiness behind your eyelids served as a screen to project all of the details ─ his eyes, his mole, his nose, his smile, his dimples, his tears… Just all of him ─ that you didn’t want to remember.

You exhaled heavily.

Perhaps it was because you were a fucking masochist that decided to lie down under the very same tree that witnessed everything… From your laughter ─ such as when you caught him pretending to read a book ─ to your bonding ─ such as when he cried while venting about his insecurities ─ to your confession ─ such as when he kissed you as if you were the only thing that mattered in his world ─ to your departure… Such as when you walked away from him, leaving all your true feelings unspoken.

Yeah, perhaps it was because you were a masochist.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You snapped your eyes open, startled at the sudden intrusion as Chan’s voice made its way to your head “Do you mind explaining to me why the fuck are you lying down under this damn tree instead of making out with the bloody guy I had to trick to confess his own feelings to you?!” You sighed; eyes softening into a vulnerable gaze as you shifted to sit down and look at him “Because I sure as hell don’t have a fucking clue!” He groaned, clasping his hands together as he met your gaze in a demanding and inquiring glare.

“I don’t know what you want me to say” You confessed, exhaling heavily as you crossed your legs, resting your arms on your lap as you lifted your chin to fully return his gaze. He scoffed ─ closing his hands on a fist as he bit his lips to hold back a comment that would have probably hurt you ─ before throwing his head back to huff at the sky. Chan returned his eyes to you with nothing but outrage, grimacing before pinching his nose bridge tiredly, trying to stay composed.

The façade didn’t last even for a second.

“Say that you fucking love him!” He snapped, floundering his hands in the air to try and calm down “Wasn’t that what you wanted to say to him?” He asked in distress, eyes urging for your answer “Isn’t this how you feel?” He insisted, offering you a lost and yet frustrated look that prompted you to sigh “Just go and kiss him! I don’t know!” He pressed his temples, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily to try and organize his thoughts.

You stared at him blankly, studying his upset features for a few seconds before you lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your lap. Contrary to what you would have expected, the sudden outburst didn’t startle you. If nothing else, his scolding felt like a warm comforting hug and a pat on the back. It was just what you needed. The way he yelled those words at you ─ demanding to know why you had chickened out like that ─ was just like hearing everything going on inside your head out loud.

There was something about hearing it from him and not from yourself ─ from actually hearing it and not just torturing yourself with those thoughts ─ that fulfilled your needs. It felt real. It was like all those words and feelings weren’t just inside your head anymore. You weren’t the one mourning and reliving everything. You weren’t the only one who despised your actions; plus, you could see it plastered over his face in a way that was impossible to ignore.

And you didn’t want to.

As you looked at him, you felt the urge to take care of Chan… To calm him down… To soothe him. This feeling ─ the kindness that finally ran through your veins instead of the hatred and contempt ─ was strong enough to distract you from your mind. Maybe that was what you really needed. Although you could reach out for Chan─ place your hand on his ankle and squeeze it reassuringly ─, you couldn’t do the same for yourself.

You didn’t deserve it.

The disappointment you held for your actions was too much to allow you to be this kind to someone so unworthy of it as you. The way you saw it, there were just two possible ways to deal with it. You either cried everything out ─ and you didn’t think you had the right to do it ─ or you relived it over and over again ─ punishing yourself for being like this.

There was no time to be kind to someone like you.

But you could be kind to Chan.

Maybe it could make you worthy of something other than hatred.

You didn’t need any words as you lifted your eyes to meet his; thumb rubbing circles on his skin and lips twisting in a small smile that was meant to tranquilize him. You sensed it wasn’t the right time to talk ─ as you could see in his embarrassed and regretful eyes ─, so you waited patiently for him to say something, giving him enough time to think about whatever was going on inside his head. He let out a heavy sigh, sitting down across you and taking your hand into his, holding it gently as he stared straight into your eyes with a tiredness you never saw before.

“I’m sorry” He huffed, hold tightening just a little bit as if to say that he meant it “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like this” You couldn’t help but fight back a smile, finding it amusing how he was so apologetic about something that made you feel so at ease. You shook your head ─ a slow motion that was meant to conceive how untroubled you were about his behavior ─ before smiling at him, dismissing the idea that you were somewhat offended by anything he said “I’m just really tired…” He sighed, rubbing his face in distress.

“Why? What happened?” You asked softly, and he scoffed before looking away in disbelief. As you stared at his profile, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes but you choose not to comment on it “Do you need my keys?” You offered, tilting your head as you tried to read his expression but getting nothing out of it.

“Are you really going to ignore why I’m here?” He asked grudgingly, returning his eyes to you “Y/N… I thought you loved him” He admitted “I really did… I…” He chuckled bitterly, pinching his nose bridge before sighing one more time “I spent all night long watching ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ and seeing Hyunjin crying and eating everything he could find in his way” He confessed, and the picture was somewhat funny and yet depressing.

You didn’t answer him; there was nothing to say.

“If I’m gonna be honest with you… I thought you guys were meant for each other” He scoffed “I thought you loved him as he loves you… I thought you guys shared so many struggles that you could heal one another… I thought…” He hesitated, letting his shoulders drop as he lowered his gaze to his lap “I thought you would say yes, Y/N…” He confessed, clearly disappointed at you.

He let the silence hang in the air, expecting you to say something.

You didn’t.

“Nothing?” He sighed “Really?” He raised his gaze to meet yours.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Chan” You tried your best to let your tone unwavering but you failed, and you knew it. You noticed how his eyes twinkled, picking up on your oddness “What do you want me to do?” You asked obnoxiously, scoffing as you looked away “Lie to him?” You felt your lips twitching slightly; the lie tasting too bitter for you to keep a straight face.

“Haven’t you done that already?” He asked knowingly; voice softening as he seemed to figure out everything “Y/N…” He smiled kindly; the corner of his lips sinking just enough to show his dimples as he played with your fingers “Why are you lying to yourself?” He didn’t sound judgingly but gentle, trying to look into your eyes but failing as you avoided his gaze for dear life “You love him” He stated matter-of-factly, chuckling in relief.

“No, I don’t,” You scoffed, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“So what is this for?” He asked, hand going to your face.

You allowed him to lift your chin and guide you to look at him, shivering as his finger slid from there to the corner of your eyes. You knew far too well what he was going to find there. You pursed your lips as firm as you could, trying to hold back everything that you wanted to pour out of your chest. He caressed your skin gently, and you could feel the faint watery sensation there as he let go of your face to show you his finger; a single drop balanced in there.

You closed your eyes, refusing to acknowledge it.

He chose to stay silent, waiting for you to be comfortable enough to say something. Anything. The way your entire face twitched and spasmed ─ especially your jaw that seemed settled in quivering nonstop ─ brought the realization that it was too late. You couldn’t fight back your tears anymore. You threw your face back, opening your eyes in a vain attempt to allow the soft wind to dry your tears away but it didn’t. The way you clenched your jaw and tensioned your throat did nothing but bring you pain before you finally let everything out, bursting into tears.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You howled, choking on your own feelings as you threw Chan a look that was meant to be a glare but turned out to be more of a cry for help “I don’t want to talk about it… I don’t want to feel it, Chan!” Both of your hands shot to your eyes, pressing them firmly to try and hold back the tears “I don’t want to love him!” You cried, shaking your head repeatedly “I don’t want to!” You insisted, voice stressing in a pained mewl.

“But he loves you, Y/N” He pointed out carefully, placing his hand on your head to stroke your hair gently “He really does” He reassured you, body sliding on the grass ─ the soft sound giving him away ─ to get a place beside you. He let his hand trail down to your back before sneaking to your shoulder and trying to pull you closer to him but you didn’t give in to his touch “There is no need for you to run away… He’s already yours” He hunched his back to try and take a look at your face but you still had your hands over your eyes “Why not take this chance?” He tried again, and this time it was too much for you.

“Because I’m a coward, Chan!” You snapped, removing your hands from your eyes and glaring at him “Because I’m a fucking coward that can’t face my own feelings!” You cried, connecting your eyes to his even though you couldn’t clearly see him “Is that what you want me to say?!” You let the corner of your lips quiver, knitting your eyebrows together “Do you want to hear that I won’t ever have someone to love because I’ll keep running away from it?!” You choked, overwhelmed by everything that crashed over your feelings.

You threw your head back, feeling the tears streaming down your face.

“Do you want to hear that no matter how much I run, I always end up in the same place?!” You scoffed ─ almost a whimper as your throat tightened by the second ─ before returning your eyes to him “No matter how much I run, Chan… I run and run and run and run… And I always…” You took a deep breath, air wavering to get into your lungs “Always” You emphasized, averting your eyes from him “End up alone, Chan” You muttered, hugging yourself as you lower your gaze.

“Y/N…” He whispered, shocked by everything you spilled on him.

“I don’t want to be alone, Chan” You howled, throwing your arms around him as you shoved your face on the crook of his neck, letting your tears soak his shirt. He wrapped you up in his arms, rubbing gentle circles on your back as he let his lips graze over your strands “Just don’t leave me alone…” You pleaded in a choked way that prompted him to shush you.

“Never…” He promised quietly “I would never”

////

How exactly did you end up in this situation?

You cut the beef on your plate awkwardly as you avoided looking him in the eyes, the scratching cringe noise making you shrink and grimace as you fixed your gaze on the fork and the knife in your hands. Now that you thought about it, maybe you should have weighted your options a little bit more… Wisely. It was too late for that, though, as Han sighed before dropping his cutlery in his plate, raising his eyes to stare at you uncomfortably.

“Lemme see if I got this right…” He said, covering his mouth and muffling his voice as he tried to manage swallowing down his food and talking at the same time “You’re asking me advice about your relationship with Hyunjin?” He stressed out the word love, throwing you a skeptical look “Because I hate him” He added in confusion, frowning at you.

“Yeah…” You cleared your throat, refusing to look in his eyes “Pretty much yeah” You risked a glance at him, bringing the food to your mouth as you tried to buy some time. He stared at you fixedly; head slightly tilted down, which made him look judging and attentive as you munched your food. It went down your throat as gently as a rock, prompting you to cough “I mean… Is tha such a weird thing?” You shrugged but the answer was quite obvious.

Yes.

“Kinda” He chuckled, arching his eyebrow funnily “I mean… You stumble over me on the way to have lunch” He raised his index finger in a counting motion “You comment on how Hyunjin missed today’s classes and how Paris saw him wandering around and went after him, leaving you alone” He pulled the second finger “You have puffed eyes and dark circles and look like literal shit” He pulled the third finger, and you couldn’t help but to chortle.

“Oh, Thank you!” You chirped mockingly, lifting your head so you could fully stare at him, “Such a nice thing to say” You pointed out playfully, getting him to pale and deadpan at you for a second. You could almost hear his system rebooting but it didn’t prevent you from laughing at his face “I’m just kidding” You decided to take pity on him.

“That was totally not what I meant!” He reassured you eagerly; system finally back and eyes settling for desperation “You’re beautiful as fuck, I swear!” He rushed to say, frowning at his own words “No! I mean… Not like beautiful in a flirting way, you know? Just like beautiful as… As in beauty and... Hm…” He rambled, seeming embarrassed as he trailed off and stared at your grin “You know what? You can do the talking” He sighed, holding his cutlery again and shoving food in his mouth.

“I think the saddest part is that you’re still being awkward as fuck around me” You mentioned, leaning back on your chair as you tilted your head and looked at him teasingly “The bright side is that you always were kinda weird anyway” You joked, prompting him to lightly kick you under the table and making you laugh.

“Ha-Ha! You’re hilarious” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief “Pardon me for not wanting to make it more awkward than it already is” He grumbled; mouth making soundless complaints as he took another bite at his food “I mean─ I literally confessed to your all sweaty and smelly and mouth full of sauce… God, that was terrible” He cringed, hand going to hide his face “And then I go all–” He scoffed, taking his hands away from his face “You’re so beautiful” He spoke in a silly low tone, mocking himself.

“If it makes you feel any better this is the first time that I genuinely laugh in three days” You offered him, face twisted in a playful frown “Also… You weren’t that smelly and sweaty… You didn’t practice hard enough that day, I think” You taunted, and he snorted before looking to the ceiling and huff.

“Okay… So first: No, it doesn’t make me happy” He knitted his eyebrows together, throwing you an inquiring look “You literally just said you’ve been sad for three days” He pointed out, eyes widening slightly to emphasize his sentence “And two: Coach practically shoved that ball up in my ass! How can you say that?!” He whined, grimacing grudgingly at you.

You laughed at that ─ like wholeheartedly laughed at that ─, and for a second you actually believed that your attempt to brush aside your feelings was working out. Silly you. It struck you again ─ just like a truck ─ and your laughter died in your throat little by little until the twinkle in your eyes vanished like the flame of a blown candle. Something about it must have caught his attention because Han mimicked your expression, staring fixedly at your face as he waited for you to voice out your thoughts.

You didn’t.

“Everything fine?” He asked concerned as you didn’t offer anything back. Hell no… No, it’s not fine. You could never voice it out loud, though, even if it was the truth, “What’s with that face?” He risked, arching his brows to invite you to answer his question.

“Got it when I was born” You tried to joke it off.

“I see your jokes didn’t get any better” He taunted; a playful tone trying to mask the worry you could see in his eyes. He cleared his throat before reaching out for you; hand slowly slinking its way to lay on top of yours in a reassuring motion. The situation itself made you fight back a smile, and you found it somewhat cute the way he tried to push aside his shyness to make sure you were okay.

“Tough crowd” You smirked at him, and as much as he rolled his eyes playfully, you knew he wasn’t buying your cunningness. Wasn’t the fact that you could deceive neither of you kinda funny? You sighed heavily as you lowered your eyes, knowing that pretending there was nothing going on inside your head wouldn’t get you anywhere “Hyunjin confessed to me” You admitted dejectedly, peeking at him to see his reaction.

Contrary to what you expected, Han didn’t seem surprised or enraged at all, deadpanning at your statement for a few seconds before clearing his throat again and lowering his gaze. He didn’t say anything for a while, diving deep into his thoughts and pursing his lips as his eyes changed from time to time. Maybe you shouldn’t discuss your love life with a friend that confessed to you not that long ago… But now was a little bit too late for that.

Were you capable of doing something right at this point? You didn’t think so. You sighed heavily as you studied his features, wondering how could you have put so much unnecessary stuff on everybody’s shoulders in so little time. To be fair, you had a lot on your plate right now… It didn’t mean you had the right to fill someone else’s cup, though. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, ready to push the subject aside and move on to any other thing but Han beat you to it.

“So you love him?” Han’s tone wasn’t really loud but it startled you just like he had shouted right to your ears and then hit you in the face. You didn’t even answer him, mouth closing shut and eyes staring at him blankly for a few seconds as your system seemed to reboot “You wouldn’t tell me he confessed to you if you weren’t interested…” He mused, narrowing his eyes at your reaction “But you rejected him” He assumed wisely, stating it in a matter-of-factly way that made you wonder when did he start to actually be able to figure out what was going through your head.

There was no way of taking it back now.

“Love is a strong word” You mumbled, averting your eyes from him and fixing it on your plate again; fork poking the food and scrambling things all over. Well… As people say: You are what you eat. You grimaced bitterly at the sight, grossed out at the mixture you did yourself and dropping your fork with a clink before swallowing down the lump on your throat.

“Yeah… It is quite strong” He agreed softly, almost sounding mindlessly before he squeezed your hand once to invite you to look at him “But is it the right word?” He questioned solemnly, and you could only be thankful for not giving in to his squeeze and refusing to meet his eyes, or else he would have seen things you didn’t want to show to anyone.

Things you were trying to hide from yourself.

The truth was that the rollercoaster of emotions you had experienced through Wednesday and Thursday brought you a realization: There was no way to fight those feelings away. Well… If you were really being honest with yourself there might be a way but you just didn’t have enough willpower to succeed in it. If you had feelings for him but you didn’t want to and you couldn’t fight them away, there was just one other option available for you… Ignore them.

Initially, you felt guilty for trying to fight away your feelings. Especially with how harsh you were about it while rejecting Hyunjin. Although you weren’t rude, you weren’t gentle as well… You were raw, to say the very least. You knew how much it meant for him to face his fears and voice his feelings out loud. You knew hard it must have been for him to say that he loved you and wanted to be with you even though he was terrified of bonding. Now, you couldn’t feel guilty at all.

Now, you couldn’t help but think that you should feel proud of what you were doing. So what If you were running away from your feelings? So what if you were scared to handle this maturely? So what if you didn’t want to risk your mental health for him? You weren’t meant to do this. It wasn’t your job to take. You shouldn’t feel sorry for protecting yourself from the instability that was bound to come from this relationship.

You shouldn’t feel sorry for running away again.

It didn’t matter how many times you chanted it to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel guilty anyway. In retrospect, you couldn’t remember a time when you managed to overcome your feelings… You couldn’t point out one time that you didn’t give up and decided to run away… You couldn’t point out one time that you fought for dear life for something you wanted. And it destroyed you. You couldn’t help but run away from your problems and every single time you did it, nothing was resolved.

Your father? You watched as he walked away from your life and you did nothing about it. You let him abandon you and your mother and when he came back ─ as if nothing had happened ─, you let him walk into your mother’s life just so you could follow your own path. Your mother? You left her behind just like your father; ran away from all the problems she got you and herself into and didn’t even look behind. You let her with the one man you could never trust for the rest of your life and pretended you weren’t as bad as him in the most hypocritical way you could ever have done. Hyunjin? You rejected him as if you didn’t love him as much as he loves you… You settled on finding a reason why you shouldn’t love him back and held on to it for dear life.

Maybe, if you could convince yourself he wasn’t good enough for you, then you could finally let him go. Maybe, if you ignore your feelings like you had been doing throughout all your life, you would eventually grow used to it. Just like, eventually, the pain of being left behind was manageable enough. Just like, eventually, the disgust of acting like your father was manageable enough. Just like, eventually, the façade that you weren’t just like him was manageable to maintain. Just like, eventually, you would be capable to manage to not feel affected by your feelings for him.

You didn’t need to fight it because, eventually, it wouldn’t even affect you anymore. You didn’t need to be a fighter ─ to be fair, you weren’t really a good one ─, you just needed to be a good runner. And that you could do for dear life. You were a hella of a runner and if you needed you would be the best of them all. You would run away from your feelings for dear life. You would proudly and actively pretend that not seeing him in the morning didn’t affect you. You would convince yourself that knowing he couldn’t even bear to go to the same classes as you didn’t affect you.

You would convince yourself that this was your best choice.

You would convince yourself that the tight feeling in your chest meant nothing but an overattachment that you would be able to manage eventually. You would convince yourself that the fact that you kept turning your back to people didn’t affect you… That you weren’t afraid of being abandoned again… That you weren’t afraid of not being enough… That you weren’t afraid of being crazy just like your mother… That you weren’t afraid of being untrustworthy just like your father… That you weren’t afraid of running over and over and over–

“Hm… Y/N?” Han called you unsurely, trying to catch your attention by waving his hand right in front of your face “You’re still with me?” He asked jokingly; a vain attempt to lighten up your mood. You blinked a few times, trying to regain consciousness. What were you talking about before? You didn’t even remember anymore “So… Do you love him?’ He cleared his throat, searching for your eyes.

“What I feel doesn’t really matter” You dismissed his question, though your answer made it quite obvious “What matters is that I don’t think he’s the right person for me” You lied but the scoff you got as an answer was a good indication that Han wasn’t buying it at all “And Paris and Chan don’t seem to share my vision… And I was wondering if…” You glanced at him unsurely “You know?” You grimaced sheepishly.

“You were wondering if I wasn’t up to badmouth him since I hate the dude” He completed for you, arching his brow amusedly “You want me to say that he’s a fuckboy and there is no way that he loves you for real and you shouldn’t fall for his charms, right?” He licked his lips, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair “You want me to say that he’ll cheat on you and hurt you because he’s a huge piece of shit” He added, and you felt your throat itching to refute him, and yet you urged to believe in it.

“Yeah… Kinda” You nodded, getting a chuckle as an answer.

“This can never get out of here…” He muttered, moving forward to lean on the table as he cupped his mouth to mockingly pretend to tell you a secret “And I mean never” He emphasized; eyes glinting in amusement. You nodded, confused as to why he was acting so lighthearted to the fact that you just implied you loved Hyunjin and needed reassurance that not acting on it was the right choice.

“Just spill it” You rushed him, frowning in confusion.

“I don’t think I can give you what you need” He admitted, and to say that you were flabbergasted would be an understatement. You gawked at him, surprised to see him shrugging his shoulders as he returned to his seat “I know I tried to meddle a lot in your love life… And I know I said he just wanted to get into yours and Paris’ pants that day” He coughed to hide his embarrassment, eyes darting around before fixing on you again “But the truth is that… He did a lot for you guys” He said grudgingly.

There was no fucking way.

“You’re kidding me, right?” You scoffed “What happened to your attitude?! You hated him!” You scowled; the rage suddenly building up. What were you going to do now?! You were counting on it! You needed to hear someone supporting your decisions! “Now what?! The fact that he fucked the whole campus doesn’t matter anymore?! The fact that he’s always pissing you off?! The fact that he’s annoying to the point of being obnoxious?!” You slammed the table, though it wasn’t strong enough to catch anyone’s attention.

“I don’t believe I’ll have to say it…” He sighed; the grimace that narrowed his eyes ─ as well as the whining and ridiculous whimpering ─ showing that he wasn’t happy to say what he was about to say “So what about the fact that he went way out of his way to help Paris?” He scowled as he defended him “Or the fact that you’re constantly defending him when I roast him?” He added, eyebrows moving to emphasize his point “Or the fact that both of you always seem comfortable around him even though he’s a dick? Or the fact that you literally let him kiss you on the stairs?” He pursed his lips judgingly, and you couldn’t help but feel your face burning at that.

“It was a fake kiss!” You retorted eagerly “And what about the fact that you were always dismissing all those arguments?! What about the fact that I don’t want to hear his good points but his bad ones?! What about the fact that I’m freaking the hell out here?!” You yelled, getting up from your chair and placing your hands on the table to look more threatening “You were supposed to tell me that he sucks, Han” You whined “I need you to help me hate the idea of being with him” You sighed tiredly, returning to your seat.

“No, Y/N…” He offered you a small smile, reaching for your hands once again “You need to face your emotions” He said softly, rubbing circles on your skin “You were the one to encourage me to tell my father my real thoughts… My dreams…” He sounded grateful, and you couldn’t help but stare deeply into his eyes “I was afraid too, you know? I was afraid I would disappoint him… I was afraid… Well, it doesn’t matter” He chuckled, shrugging “The point is that you’re afraid of your feelings… You’re afraid of being hurt” He moved his hand to your cheek, cupping it gently.

You lowered your gaze, unable to look him in the eyes right now.

“And it’s normal” He reassured you “But to be honest with you… I don’t think you would be like this if you didn’t believe he loved you back” He admitted, prompting you to nod softly “You would just know that you couldn’t give in to your feelings and be firm about it… I was on the other side once, I should know it” He laughed, making you cringe for a second “If you love him and you really think he loves you back… I mean… Someone who comes to his enemy to ask for help for a friend couldn’t be that bad, hm?” He offered you, and this time you looked at him again, catching the disgust in his features.

“Who would think that you would come to like him one day” You joked, chuckling as he scrunched his nose and retreated his hands from you, shaking his head eagerly to dismiss the thought.

“Not a word about it to him!” He said threateningly, narrowing his eyes at you “If he comes even close to knowing that I don’t hate him that much now, I’ll make your life a living hell!” He grumbled, making you laugh wholeheartedly.

“You know what?” You rested your cheek on your hand, leaning on the table “I think you deserve a hot dog tonight” You offered him, a grateful smile on your face “Really… Thank you for saying that” You sighed “I think… I mean… I knew it was the right choice but…” You cleared your throat “You inspire me to be bolder, Han” You cringed, hiding your face behind your hand “God! I’m so cheesy and emotional nowadays” You grimaced, making a gagging sound as you let your index go into your mouth jokingly.

So maybe you were freaking out about your emotions… Maybe you were too afraid of being hurt and hurting him… Maybe you were terrified of not being enough for someone you loved so much. Again. Maybe you were terrified of not being able to support him… Maybe you were just too afraid to allow yourself to fully express your feelings for him… But that was why you were in therapy.

You would learn how to deal with your struggles…

Eventually, you wouldn’t be so afraid anymore…

Eventually, you would learn to manage it.

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 2 years

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Hello! Happy new year! So, I'm new to fandoms and I guess I'm curious about your take on shipping, especially in the danmei space. When it comes to any media, if we only ever ship based on what is canon, 99% of fandom wouldn't exist. Relying on canon can stifle your creativity and desire to create content because you're trapped by what canon has set and you fear diverging bc then you're invalidating your ship (1/2)

(2/2) i think canon is there for inspiration, but yoi shouldn't lean on it so heavily to justify shipping or head canoning something. What's the point of participating in fandom if you aren't allowed to diverge? The MXTX fandom has been unsettling I guess because so much of fanon is taken for canon instead. Even the MCs aren't spared from being shipped with characters who they barely expressed interest in. I guess I have yet to learn how to curate my experience but any tips are appreciated

Good evening/morning/day where ever you are anon! Thank you for the well wish in the new year!

My take upon shipping itself, is go right for it. That's what fandom space is for, it has the freedom of interpretation. However, there is a line people need to be aware of that, your headcanons are not going to be universally accepted, it's the transience of fandom next to a finished work especially. Canon and headcanon are highly separated pieces of works.

I find it fun working within the space canon allows, as well as the mix of keeping the characters themselves as close as possible to themselves in AU's, what if's, etc. Which is awesome, but again, is only just headcanon and not a piece of the work itself. fandom curation is just a matter of personal comfort. I tend to just profusely block tags and anything that annoys me in the slightest so I can move on. Everyone has a comfort level for how much their fandom stuff needs to resemble canon, I am the type who prefers it to be as close as possible to the characters than OC's with character names branded on them. I don't explore fic in fandoms for them to not resemble themselves.

I am here to engage with it as close to canon while still able to work with the confines of it to make them still resemble the original point of the characters, even in a different setting. They would still retain their core even with circumstantial changes, that's what makes a good long lasting character to remember and recognize. Certain points, reactions are a must to have to make a fanfiction worth while to read. It needs to make me believe it has some merit to it, much the same way as literary analysis. Indulgence it may be, but I want to believe it is in character at least, otherwise, just write your own OC's if you can't find the respect to engage with how these characters actually are.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #fandom vs canon

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pengychan · 3 years

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[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt 22

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: Well, both the events in this chapter and the update were a long time coming. I promise you won't have to wait nearly as much for the next update. I am not sure that is a good thing.

Art is by @lunaescribe and @swanpit

***

Later on, if he’d been in a joking mood - and he most definitely wouldn’t be - Ernesto may have joked that while many were saved by the bell, he was quite literally saved by the bull. Namely, by an especially unimpressive bull who seemed to be unsure as to what to do around a cow, no matter how absolutely eager said cow was to answer nature’s call.

“González wants us to go all the way to his farm and bless a bull, am I understanding this correctly?”

Juan spoke with about as much contempt as he was able to fit into each word, which was a fair lot of contempt. As Ernesto coughed into his hand to hide a laugh, Sofía shrugged.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Padre. I am simply relaying the message González sent.”

The gringo scoffed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Does he believe the church to be a joke, that he can call upon us to give a blessing to a bull who believes itself an ox?”

Ernesto chuckled. “Well, to be fair - don’t look at me like that, hear me out! A bull that cannot mount cows is a problem to anyone who makes a living out of their cattle. And the poor hombre spent a lot of his savings on that bull, so if it cannot do its job, that’s a loss he may not recover from anytime soon.”

His words seemed to make Juan marginally less offended, but the frown on his face did not entirely fade. “It still seems rather brazen, asking the church to get involved in such-- matters, Ern-- Father Ernest.”

“Desperate men will ask for any help they can get. Things have not been going all that well for anyone lately. And he does provide milk for the children in our care on Sundays,” Ernesto added, and mentally patted himself on the back when Juan’s scowl softened another fraction.

“... Fair enough. He has shown charity, at least. I cannot entirely fault him for being ignorant of what is and is not beneath the notice of God,” he declared. Behind him, Sofía pointed at her mouth and pretended to gag. Ernesto bit the inside of his cheek to remain serious, but any inclination to smile faded when Juan spoke again. “Well then, I suppose you may go and give this bull your blessing.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what? Me?” he protested. That was not a turn of events he had expected: the gringo knew any blessing he may give was entirely worthless, and-- ah, the pendejo. That was probably the point, giving González some peace of mind without anyone really giving God’s blessing to an impotent bull.

Juan met his gaze with a raised brow, and for a moment Ernesto could have sworn he’d seen the barest hint of an amused glint in his eye. It almost distracted him from the broad grin on Sofía’s face as she watched the scene. Some friend she was.

The gringo nodded, folding his hands. “You spoke of this man’s plight with such fervor, it seems fair I let you go help him - if anything for his peace of mind.”

Ernesto groaned. To say the González farm was out of the way was an understatement: it was quite a way beyond the first hill south of Santa Cecilia. Truth be told, they tended to consider it part of Santa Cecilia only because it was no closer to any other village, and the family attended Mass and the market each week without fail.

“But it’s almost an hour each way!”

“Two hours, most likely,” the gringo replied with a serene smile. Now the amused glint was… a lot more obvious. Oh, that bastard--! “Doctor Sanchéz borrowed the horse to send his assistant to buy some medical supplies in San Luz. You may have the donkey, though. Don’t push the poor beast, you know it’s elderly. If you get going now, you should make it back by sundown,” he added, making Ernesto rather wish he could grab the closest chair and slap him with it.

“But I-- I mean, surely it is not that urgent--” he tried to backpedal. He really was not looking forward to several hours riding a donkey under the merciless summer sun. Maybe on another day he could get a horse, or ride with the González family’s cart next time they--

“You should definitely be the one to go, Padre Ernesto. You have such a glowing track record with fertility blessings,” Sofía quipped, causing Ernesto to nearly choke on his spit and any words he’d been about to utter to die in his throat.

Entirely unaware of the meaning behind Sofía’s words - if rather taken aback to see one of the sisters taking his side over Ernesto’s in a discussion - Juan nodded. “See, Sister Sophie agrees,” he said, with a decisive nod that made it clear the matter was sealed.

Sofía grinned. Ernesto forced a smile. Oh, he thought, I am going to kill her.

“... Of course. I will be happy to,” he spoke through gritted teeth. Sofía took that as her cue to disappear out of the door with one last grin in his general direction. As the door closed, he allowed himself to groan, no longer having to keep up the pretense of keeping up the pretense in front of Sofía. “Bastardo,” he muttered.

Juan clicked his tongue, wagging a finger at him. “Language,” he chided. “If it is of any comfort, this also means you will be spared Latin for the day.”

“Does this mean you’ll make me study through the night once I’m back?” Ernesto grumbled, and the gringo gave a startlingly sincere laugh. Those had always been rare to come by, even more so after he learned the truth about him. Ernesto’s annoyance faded a little, and just a little.

“Hah! I thought about it, to be entirely sincere, but no.” He stood, giving his arm a light pat. “I will not put you through it tonight, either. We’ll both get to sleep.”

Somehow, he was both absolutely right and disastrously wrong at the same time.

***

Just as a very disgruntled Ernesto de la Cruz disappeared down the first hill south of the village on the back of an elderly donkey, Commander Santiago Hernández rode up the first hill north of the village at the head of a column of sweaty, angry men.

Fewer men than he’d have liked, truth be told. They had succeeded in pushing through the territories under the control of Zapatistas, but resistance had been fierce and their advance hadn’t been without sacrifices. The oppressive heat and the talk going around - they were losing the war, Huerta was going to fall any day now - did nothing to improve morale.

But they had made through the worst, the scum who’d planned to ambush them had been tricked into waiting for them somewhere else entirely, and they had almost reached Santa Cecilia - where they would take supplies and some fresh recruits to replace their fallen comrades. Those things were occasionally offered, far more likely taken, but it did not matter. The end result was the same, and he let his men deal with it.

What he usually kept himself occupied with was taking a very good look at every man he could find and asking everyone if a-- deserter traitor murderer -- man called Ernesto de la Cruz had sought refuge among them. He’d been lucky until then, evading detection, but his luck wouldn’t last forever, Santiago was certain of it. He didn’t allow himself to think he may be forever beyond his reach.

If only I had a photograph of that traitor, Santiago thought, not for the first time, but he chased away the thought. He did not have one; his name and a description was all that he had to work with, and it would have to do.

Santiago frowned, and spurred his horse the last few yards of the way to the top of the hill. He stopped his horse, allowing himself to breathe in the faint breeze caressing his face.

Below him, in the merciless heat of a summer afternoon, lay Santa Cecilia.

***

If only he hadn’t been asleep, Miguel would think later, they would have never caught him.

Granted, a tree branch is not a great place to take a nap. He wasn’t supposed to be asleep, they were playing hide and seek and he was really determined to win that round, so he’d climbed up a large tree at the base of a hill.

It was a really good hiding place, because the branches were wide enough for him to sit comfortably, back against the trunk, while the leaves beneath him hid him from sight. They hid him so well that he got bored of waiting to be found or for Felipe to give up, and he eventually dozed off.

At least until he was startled awake by shouts and rancorous laughter, and the steady clap of more horse hooves than he’d ever heard at once. Somehow, he had enough presence of mind to understand who it had to be - Federales! - but not nearly enough to remember he just so happened to be on top of a tree branch when he tried to stand up to run back and warn everyone.

“Aaaagh!” Miguel fell with a cry, hit a branch on his way down, and somehow managed to grab onto another before he had a very unpleasant meeting with the ground below. There were yells somewhere below him, and he knew he had been spotted.

“Oye!”

“What the-- what are you doing up there, muchacho?”

“Odd bird, that!”

“Oh, bet I can get him down with one shot…”

“What?”

“Hey now, it’s just a kid--”

“A lookout, more like, and there may be more.”

“Put that pistol down, Mendoza, or God be my witness you’ll hang from that branch!”

A voice rose over all the others, and the entire world seemed to go quiet. Miguel looked down, still reeling. A dozen men on horses were a short distance away from the tree, including a squat man quickly lowering a pistol, and more were coming down the hill. The men’s eyes were not on Miguel, however: they were looking at a tall, slender man with a closely trimmed mustache as he spurred his horse to walk beneath the branch Miguel was hanging from. Not a huge drop, but more than he’d like to risk.

“That doesn’t seem comfortable, niño,” he said, and it was only then that Miguel realized the thundering order not to shoot had come from him.

I was almost shot. They almost shot me, Miguel thought. His blood ran cold, and he suddenly understood why Ernesto had been so scared. He’d always known, of course, but seeing them up close - finding how quickly a soldier could joke about shooting a child off a branch like ripe fruit - suddenly made it so real.

It could get me killed, Miguel, Ernesto had said. You must never say it aloud again.

“I… I was…”

“Keeping an eye out for us to come, all the way out here?” the man, clearly someone in command, asked. His voice was cold and Miguel swallowed, still holding onto the branch for dear life. If he so much reached up from atop his horse, he could pull him down by the legs.

“N-no, señor,” he managed, his voice so small. “I... we were playing hide and seek. I hid.”

The man’s cold gaze remained fixed on him for a moment more, then it seemed to soften. “Well, if you hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have known you were even there,” he said, and smiled.

It was not an insincere smile, Miguel would think later, but there was something so fundamentally broken about it that he felt all the sweat on his skin had suddenly turned into frost. But at least, he thought, he’d stopped one of his men from shooting him dead. Was it because he balked at the idea of murdering a boy in cold blood? Was it because he thought there may be an ambush and a shot may alert anyone laying in wait of their presence? Miguel would never know, and at the moment he had no time to think about it. The man moved his horse closer, and held out his arm.

“Come then, your arms look ready to give out,” he said. “We’ll take you back to your village.”

No, no, no. Keep away from there. Keep away from Santa Cecilia.

Miguel swallowed again, his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. “I…” he began, but he could think of nothing to say, and his arms finally did give out. The man caught him, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so slender, and pulled him to sit astride his horse as well. Miguel held onto the mane with shaky hands, looking down. He found himself thinking of the day he and Ernesto had met, when he’d saved him from the stream and let him ride on his horse - except that then he’d been elated, and now he was just terrified.

Please God, make them go away. Make them go away without hurting anyone.

“... Gracias,” he murmured, mostly to try and not anger him, and the man let out a noise that seemed almost a chuckle as he spurred the horse into moving again. He shouted an order for his men to get moving again, entirely ignored Miguel’s wince, and spoke again.

“And what is your name, niño?”

“Miguel,” he mumbled. His throat felt like sandpaper, but the soldier kept talking like he hadn't noticed, or did not care, that the hands clenching the horse’s mane were shaking.

“Just Miguel?”

“Sí.”

“Very well, Just Miguel. I’m Commander Santiago Hernández.” His tone was light, but the grip on the reins was tight, the arms at either side of Miguel unyielding. “So, hide and seek? With friends?”

“S-Sí.”

“A good hiding place. I was never much good at hiding when I was your age. Alberto always found me. Now I am the one doing the searching for him.”

Miguel blinked, confusion overriding the fear for a moment. He craned his neck to look back. “Searching?” he repeated. The man’s gaze was like steel, but as he looked down it softened… only a moment. Then the coldness was back, and something in the pit of Miguel’s stomach twisted. He looked away again.

“For traitors. For one in particular, but any traitor will do.” A brief pause. “You seem like a smart boy,” he added, but Miguel didn’t feel smart at the moment. He only felt so stupid for just falling in the Federales’ hands as he had and so very, very scared.

“I-- try to be.”

“You know many people in the village?”

Nearly everyone, but he knew better than to say it. Maybe he had some smarts left, after all. “A few. Not all that many, the Sisters keep us in the church,” he added, hoping it would make a good excuse. To his relief, Commander Hernández hummed in understanding.

“Ah, nuns. I know what you mean. Does the name Ernesto de la Cruz ring any bells to you?”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh God, no.

It could get me killed, Miguel. You must never say it aloud again.

Miguel’s eyes stung with tears, but he was able to keep his voice from shaking too much as he spoke. “No, señor. I don’t think it does.”

“Are you certain? He is a deserter, and a dangerous man. A murderer. It is best for everyone that he is found and taken care of, don’t you agree? If he is here, your village is in danger.”

We are in danger now. If he finds him, he’ll kill him. If he knows we hid him, he’ll kill us all.

“Then I hope you find him,” Miguel managed, fighting back more tears while he watched the first houses of Santa Cecilia drawing closer as the column of men entered the main road in.

***

“... I still can’t believe we each thought the other was the one leaving behind the instructions.”

“Heh. And to think I knew your handwriting is better than… that.”

“Likewise. But I imagined you may have tried to disguise yours.” Imelda frowned a little, emptying the donation box into the basket - not a lot, few had much to give those days, but it would do and keep the poor fed - before returning it to its place. “It still irks me that we don’t know who it was.”

Héctor chuckled. “Maybe it was Cheech all along,” he said, knowing full well that despite being somehow able to read music sheets, the old gravedigger was damn near illiterate. Which was exactly the point Imelda made next.

“Chicharrón doesn’t know how to write anything but his name, Juanita’s, and a few choice words he had the bad taste of teaching my brothers,” she muttered, then she paused, and raised an eyebrow. “... What is it?”

“Uuuuh,” Héctor managed, mind entirely blank of anything he had been thinking. Their church was small and not much to write home about, but it did have one stained glass window thanks to a glassworker who had died almost twenty years prior and who had made it to thank God for saving the life of his son after a bad accident with an angry pig.

A claim doctor Sanchéz had hotly debated, that, considering that it had been him and not Jesus Christ to painstakingly sew torn flesh back together and throw iodine into any open wound, but his protests had been mostly ignored and their humble church now had a beautiful stained glass window, letting in soft light that made Imelda look like an angel straight out of-- well, no. Angels in the Bible were the things nightmares are made of, so not that.

But God, she really was the most lovely being in all creation.

A moment of silence, and then the most lovely being in all creation tilted her head on one side. “... Are you well? You look--”

“Beautiful,” Héctor blurted out, and Imelda let out a chuckle, a smile curling her lips.

“Well, I’ll admit you are a sight for sore eyes…”

Wait, what? Héctor shook his head, taken aback. “Wha-- no, not me. I mean, you. You-- beautiful,” he stammered.

The songwriter, señores y señoras.

As his face made a valiant attempt at reaching the same temperature as the sun, Imelda laughed. “I know what you meant,” she said, and the smile on her face widened just a little. She reached to take his hand, and Héctor let her pull him closer as though in a dream. “I think I can get used to hearing you say that. Once this is all over.”

Ah-- ah, of course. Yes. Once this was all over, and Hurta and his Federales were gone, he would ask her to marry him, and she would say yes, and they would leave the Church - only to return for their wedding to be officiated, and… and…

The thought of seeing Imelda in her best Sunday dress standing beneath that same window, as his bride, made Héctor’s heart skip a beat. Imelda let go of his hand, and he immediately reached to cup her face.

You may now kiss the bride.

“I’ll tell you every day,” he promised. Oh they were so close, and alone in the empty chapel. Or rather under the eyes of God, but Héctor felt no shame over it. God would understand, and if He didn’t-- well, it didn’t matter. “Starting now.”

The coy expression on Imelda’s face had faded a little, her lips parting. She placed her hand on his arm, but didn’t try to push him away. Héctor dared lean in, she tilted her face up, and her eyes fluttered close, and--

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME!”

“Gah!”

Héctor and Imelda came apart with a yelp, and turned towards the source of the voice. Said source was marching up towards them as though filled with the wrath of God, face somehow even paler than usual and eyes ablaze. “Brother Héctor! What is the meaning of this?”

Oh God. Face quickly turning a deep shade of purple, Héctor cleared his throat. By his side Imelda looked down in a way that may have looked demure, if not for the way the corners of her mouth curled upwards despite everything. It made Héctor struggle to keep himself from laughing.

“Padre Ju-- I mean, Father John!” he exclaimed with a wide smile, hands clasped together. “I can explain.”

“Oh?” The gringo came to a stop in front of him with a huff, arms crossed full of judgment for someone who had been doing… the kind of thing Ernesto claimed they had been doing. “Then please, do explain yourselves!”

“Well…”

“Oh, I’m curious to hear this one,” another voice rang out, insufferably smug and awfully familiar. Héctor looked past the gringo to see Gustavo leaning on one of the front pews, a grin on his face. Had it been him to tell Padre Juan that he and Imelda were alone in the chapel? Of course it had been him, he only needed a look at his face to know it. That cabrón--!

Héctor opened his mouth to tell Gustavo exactly what he thought of him, but before he could spew out a series of expletives that would have probably resulted in his excommunication from the Roman Catholic Church, the chapel’s door was thrown open and someone ran in screaming. Felipe.

“Federales!” he cried out, skidding to a halt on the polished floor. He was panting, hair sticking out in all directions and glasses askew, the sling holding up his broken arm having left an angry red mark on the side of his neck. “The Federales are here!”

Héctor’s blood ran cold and, for a moment, no one moved or spoke. All four adults stared at the panting boy, stunned incredulity on each of their faces.

Just when it was beginning to look like Huerta is done for. Just when we thought we may have escaped them entirely.

“Impossible!” Gustavo almost cried out, reaching to grab the boy by the shoulder. “They can’t be here! They were going to go through San Luz!”

How would you know?, Héctor thought, but he didn’t get to voice the question. The next moment Imelda was no longer by his side: she pushed past a still silent Father John to tear her brother from Gustavo’s grasp, and look at him in the eye.

“Where is Óscar?” she asked, fear plain in her voice. Her horror seemed to grow when Felipe swallowed and shook his head.

“I-- I don’t know. They’re at the plaza, rounding up people--”

“What do you mean, you don’t know! You’re always together!” Imelda crouched before him, even though he was already taller than her. She looked like she was begging him for a different answer. “Do you know where he may be? He needs to go home. He needs to hide.”

“No, I-- we were playing hide and seek, and Miguel--” Felipe let out a shaky breath and looked over at Héctor, eyes huge behind his glasses. “Héctor, their leader has Miguel.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Not Miguel. Please.

The world around Héctor seemed to fade for a moment, and he seriously thought he may be about to faint; his ears were buzzing and his tongue felt too large. Children were not spared in that war, the Federles would take anyone who could hold a gun and make them fight.

I’ll fight. I’ll go. Just please, not Miguel.

“Very well then.” Father John’s voice rang out, impossibly calm, the full weight of his authority behind it. They all turned to look back at him as though puppets pulled by the same string. His hands were clasped tightly together, his mouth pulled in a thin line; a grim resolve was etched on his every feature. “It seems I need to speak to their leader, then. Philip, you go home. I will handle this.”

Gustavo groaned, rubbing his face. “With all due respect, Padre,” he said, everything in his tone making it clear he didn’t think the respect he was due was all that much, “it may be best you don’t try to confront them.”

“How come?”

“They have a bone to pick with Americans after Veracruz. More than everyone else, I mean.”

The resolve on the gringo’s face did not waver. “Surely, the cloth I wear will mean something to them.”

“Well… I suppose, at least for some, but they don’t love the Church all that much…”

“Then it will have to do.” Father John turned to Héctor and Imelda, who was still kneeling before her brother. “... Do ensure the children here are safe. Your brother may already be safe, if he saw them coming. Philip, you go home. I will do all I can to… smooth things over.”

You were never able to smooth things over with any Mexican ever, Héctor thought, but didn’t get to say as much aloud. The gringo turned and marched out of the church, immediately followed by Gustavo, who was probably thinking someone should make sure he didn’t mess it up too badly. Too bad he was probably the second worst pick for the job. Or the third, if they counted in Cheech. As they walked off, Imelda looked back at her brother.

“... Keep to the back roads, and go straight home. Maybe Óscar is already there. Go out back, through the sacristy - quick!”

Felipe disappeared at the back, and Imelda turned to look at Héctor. She was pale as ash, but her jaw was set; all the terror that had filled her moments earlier had been pushed back. “... I’ll tell Sofía to try and hide the supplies in the basement as well as she can. I’ll go gather all the boys and bring them back to the orphanage. You… you get Miguel away from them.”

“I…” A shaky breath, and Héctor nodded. “Do you think… what if they’re looking for Ernesto?”

“Then thank God he’s all the way out there to bless a bull. We’ll all tell the truth - none of us knows anyone called Ernesto de la Cruz.”

“If someone mentions a Padre Ernesto…”

“It’s a common enough name, and no one would think a deserter and our parish priest are the same person. His plan may have really been stupid enough to work.” She squeezed his arm. “Now think of nothing but Miguel. I’ll see you both later.” A pause. “I love you.”

Héctor swallowed, and leaned for a quick brush of the lips before he tore himself away from her and ran down the church and outside, down the steps, heart hammering in his throat and only one thought in mind: find Miguel, and keep him safe.

Whatever it takes.

***

“No one move, and no one will be harmed.”

Santiago’s voice rose over the plaza, met with almost complete silence from the people of Santa Cecilia - or at least those among them they had caught outside, at what looked like their weekly market - and seemingly went unheard by his men, who were busy taking as much as they could from the stands full of food and produce. Santiago did not try to stop them; they were fighting for Mexico, after all, and taking supplies was well within their rights.

If anyone was unhappy with that, they were smart enough not to voice it.

“I am looking for a deserter,” Santiago spoke again, circling the small crowd, still atop his horse. The boy, Miguel, sat frozen before him. Part of him, the man he had been before the war, felt sorry for the situation he was in, but the much colder man he had become, the one who had survived this far, knew it was a matter of practicality.

Having one of their kids on the horse with him made it… less likely for anyone to think of doing anything rash, such as pointing a gun in his general direction; it was a lesson he had learned after a bullet shot from a window had grazed at his right temple, leaving behind a rather unsightly scar.

Sorry, muchacho. I cannot afford to die. Not until Alberto is avenged.

“His name is Ernesto de la Cruz,” Santiago spoke the name loud and clear, so that all in the plaza could hear. “A large man, doesn’t go unnoticed. Black hair, brown eyes,” he added, painfully aware of how vague that was. “He had a beard, but he may have shaved it off. He is a murderer who did not hesitate to shoot a man in the back, and he’s dangerous. He needs to be put down as the rabid dog he is. If any of you is harboring him, you are not only committing treason - you are putting yourselves and your village at risk. So I ask you all--”

A sudden cry cut him off, followed by a laugh and a man’s furious voice. “Hey! Get your hands off-- agh!”

“Javier! No!”

Santiago turned to the source of the disturbance, as did the rest of the nervous crowd. A glance was enough to tell what had happened: one of his soldiers was still brandishing his rifle like a club, standing above a young man bleeding from the mouth while a girl with a torn blouse knelt over him, crying. He sighed. “... Mendoza. What did I tell you all about what you are and are not allowed to take from the towns we pass through?”

A grin. “Not my fault, Commander. This one was giving me the eyes. You know what I mean, no?”

Santiago gave him a frosty smile. “I understand. It has been a long march, hasn’t it? I believe you have dropped some cartridges.”

“Huh?” Mendoza looked down, searching for cartridges on the dusty ground. Santiago pulled out his pistol. “Cover your ears, muchacho. And close your eyes,” he told Miguel, and did not wait to see if he’d obeyed: he just lifted his pistol, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

There were a few cries, mostly covered by the loud bang, but Mendoza made no noise: he was thrown to the ground and jerked just once before he lay still. As those closer to the body tried to shift away without making themselves targets, Santiago put the pistol back and turned his gaze around, to his other men, who had stilled and were staring back in silence.

“I trust you will need no more reminders to keep your hands to yourselves,” he said. Miguel was shaking on the saddle, hands on his ears. Santiago gave his head a reassuring pat before turning his horse to the side, so that the boy didn’t have the body in his line of sight. “Now - do any of you have any knowledge of the whereabouts of Ernesto de la Cruz?”

As the soldiers around them resumed taking all the supplies they could take, he stared at the face of every villager. They all avoided his gaze, and they all shook their heads. Santiago scowled, anger beginning to stir in his chest. So he wasn’t there, either? Had he once again failed to find him? Where had that bastardo gone?

“We need men, and any men we need we will take!” he screamed, circling them once again, and gesturing for some of his men to leave the plaza and search the houses around them for anyone trying to hide. Young children held onto their mothers’ gown, elderly people huddled together, women held onto the arm of grown men, and somehow that just infuriated him more. They looked at him like he was a monster, but it was all wrong. He was hunting for a monster.

He was doing his duty, fighting for Mexico, risking his life - seen his friends die - and he’d even just protected one of theirs from his own man. Why did they look at him like that? What right did they have? How dare they? “If he is here, hand him over and none of yours will be taken! If you’re hiding him, you will all regret it!”

“Oh, quit yelling, will you!” a voice suddenly snapped. “There is no one by that name here. Now let the kid go.”

Santiago turned his horse, and found himself glaring down at a short, squat old man with a peg leg and a scowl on his face. “Cheech--” Miguel began, his voice shaking, but the man silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Grownups are talking,” he muttered, and looked back at Santiago. “Listen, we got no deserter here. No one moved in recently, and there are three Ernestos in all of Santa Cecilia. One is old enough to have been at Montezuma’s court, the other is a cobbler wider than he’s tall, and the third is a priest. There is no one called de la Cruz. If the man you’re looking for was here, we’d hand him over in a heartbeat to save our own. I know I would.”

That was true, and Santiago knew it; it was the reason behind his offer, after all. He had grown up in a village much like that one, and he knew how close-knit the community was. The choice between the safety of a newcomer and that of their own people was no choice at all. Still-- ah, it was infuriating. He kept slipping through the net, people looked at him like he was the monster, and it was all wrong. He had left home with Alberto trying to do the right thing. They had wanted to be heroes. Now Beto was dead, Nando was dead, and he… he...

If you think I’m the monster, then I intend to deserve it.

“... Very well,” Santiago sneered, and dropped a heavy hand on Miguel’s shoulder, causing him to wince. “We need thirty able men. Twenty-nine, as it seems I already have a volunteer. Who else will join us and do their duty as Mexicans?”

The old man’s wrinkly face twisted in fury. “Miguel didn’t volunteer for shit!”

“Oh, but he did. Here he is, no? Boys younger than him have fought for the glory of Mexico. I’ll teach him all he needs to know.”

If looks could kill, Santiago would have probably dropped dead off his horse. He found he did not care - even if in the back of his mind he knew the boy was too young to make a decent soldier, even though part of him balked at the thought of forcing him into the front line. Maybe he would make himself useful as a messenger, something not as dangerous as fighting. Santiago would mull on that later; right now, he had to make a point - what the army needed, the army would take.

Not that the old bastard seemed to care for the point he was trying to make. “He won’t even be able to lift a gun. I know how to shoot. I’ll take his place.”

There were murmurs in the crowd, but Santiago laughed. “You? You’re missing a leg and look like you’re one step away from the grave. I said I need able men--”

“Get off that horse, and I’ll show you just how able--!”

“Commander! A word, if you please!”

A voice called out before Santiago could seriously consider pulling out his pistol and blowing off the idiot’s bald head. It wasn’t just any voice: this one had a strong, distinctive accent. Slowly, he turned back to face the man who had spoken and, for a moment, he thought he must be dreaming.

Before him, clad in black priestly robes, stood a gringo.

***

“Well well, what have we got here?”

Sofía froze, the box full of cartridges still in her arms. She slowly turned to see a soldier of the Federal army at the door, rifle in hand, looking around the cellar.

How in the world had he found his way there? Were there more? Had Imelda managed to get the children to safety on time? Feeling as though her stomach had turned into a block of ice and mentally cursing - she had almost managed to move everything! - Sofía managed to smile. “Good afternoon. I am afraid you may be in the wrong place. This is the parish’s--”

“I am here to requisition supplies,” the man cut her off. “What is in there? Food?”

Well, that was it. She needed to come up with something quickly, because if the man so much caught a glance of what was really in those boxes, she and probably the entirety of the parish would end up before the firing squad before the sun had time to set.

I can’t believe I saved Ernesto’s life by having him sent off to heal a bull’s masculinity.

"These donations are for the house of God to help the poor, I am afraid. I cannot let you take them,” she said in her best apologetic tone. “I am certain you understand, our mission--”

"Move aside."

Ah, so that was how it had to be. "... No."

"It is for the glory of Mexico."

"What of the glory of Heaven?"

"You want to go meet that glory, sister?" The soldier snapped, and raised his rifle so that Sofía could stare right into its barrel. It looked impossibly large, impossibly black. If those men held no respect for the Church, there truly was no defense left. "What about now?"

"... It seems I misspoke."

"Of course you did."

"What I meant to say is, absolutely not. Have you no shame?"

The man glared daggers at her, and Sofía could only hold her breath, praying that he did have at least some reservations over shooting a nun after all. He hesitated, so maybe her gamble had paid off. Maybe she could still find a way--

“Ah, here you are! I thought I had seen one of the heroes of Mexico coming in here!”

Gustavo’s voice caused Sofía to blink and the soldier to turn, rifle up. On the doorway, Gustavo held up his hands with a smile. “No need to shoot, I am here to offer help,” he said, as though having a rifle pointed at his face was not bothering him at all. “As the sister correctly said, these are the supplies for the church - but we do have some food and medical supplies aside I am sure you could use.”

“Hhm. Do you now?”

“Of course. I am the sexton here, and I have been keeping some supplies aside just in case you happened to come through our humble village,” he added. The soldier slowly lowered his rifle, and Sofía blinked. She knew Gustavo was a cabrón, but a supporter of the Federal Army of all things? God, had he been working for them all along? How much did he know--

“Now, sister Sofía, we’ll leave you to finish your good work,” Gustavo added, taking a step towards her and taking her hands. “You were always such a tireless servant of the Church, may God bless you.”

Sofía opened her mouth to ask if he’d hit his head, but promptly shut it when she felt something being pushed against her palm - a folded piece of paper. She looked up and shared a long, serious look with Gustavo before he let go of her hands and led the soldier outside, all smiles and questions about his bravery in battle.

Only once she was alone again, heart hammering in her throat, did Sofía unfold the piece of paper to read the message hastily scribbled on it, in the same handwriting she had seen several times. It looked identical to the one in the instructions Imelda had been receiving for months, coordinating their help to the revolutionaries and their cause.

Once they have left, ring the bell to a death toll and don’t stop. Help will come. Tell them to follow the trail. They’ll know.

***

Truth be told, Father John Johnson knew he had very few chances of succeeding.

Gustavo was right: Americans were particularly hated since their attack on Veracruz, and there was little love between Huerta loyalists and the Catholic Church. However, most if not all those men had been raised to go to Mass, and respect God’s servants; the presence of a priest still inspired at least some measure of deference, if the way the soldiers moved aside to let him pass was anything to go by.

And within moments it was obvious, just from the furious glare he received, that the cloth he wore was the only reason why their commander hadn’t shot him on sight.

“What is a gringo doing here?” the man scoffed, and moved the horse to tower over John. Gripping the horse’s mane, Miguel looked down at him with wide, terrified eyes; John gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and looked back up at the commander.

“I serve at this village’s parish,” he said, his voice quiet. “Most call me Padre Juan. I am here to see if there is anything I may do to assist you, and protect my flock at the same time. Certainly an arrangement can be made.” Anything, he thought, anything to save my flock.

The commander scowled. “Protecting them is what we have been doing all along,” he snapped. Around them soldiers were dragging in more men and boys they must have torn out of their homes, forcing them in the plaza, separating all men from the women, the elderly, and children too young to hold a rifle. A few people cried out, but most were silent and still under the threat of firearms. “It is time they do their part for their country. This war may have been over already if not for your kind, sticking your nose in places where it doesn’t belong!”

John drew a long breath. “I do understand. The attack against Veracruz was unfortunate--”

“THE ATTACK AGAINST VERACRUZ WAS SLAUGHTER!” the man screamed suddenly, causing John to wince - but he did not turn, did not flee. He couldn’t, no more than the shepherd can run from the flock and leave it at the mercy of wolves. There was something in his voice that went beyond anger, raw and full of pain.

“... It was. I pray for all the lives lost that day, that God may take them in his glory,” he said, bowing his head. “Anything I may do would be a drop in the ocean, but if there is anything you require of me-- please, do tell me.”

The man paused, seemingly taken aback by the humble response. The scowl remained etched on his face, but the fury in his eyes burned a little less brightly. After a brief silence, during which one could hear a pin drop across the plaza, he spoke again.

“... You said you serve this parish. You must have heard confessions. Know everything about everyone.”

“I do, sir.”

“Do you have any knowledge of a man called Ernesto de la Cruz hiding nearby?”

Ernesto.

A cold, cold hand grasped John’s hand, and squeezed. He wanted to scream, to cry, to curse at the choice put before him - one he had hoped he would never have to make. He was relieved he had sent him away at a distant farm; he was horrified he may now have to be the one to give him away. Would that man be sated, if he got his hands on him? Would he leave the rest of Santa Cecilia alone? Could he trade the life of one for the lives of many?

There is no place in Mexico that is safe, Ernesto had said. I’m done for the moment you speak.

If the Federal army finds me, I’ll hang.

For all the turmoil in his soul, John managed to let nothing show. He looked up again, hands clasping together. “This man’s crimes must have been grievous--”

“He is a deserter, and he murdered a man far better than himself to escape.” The pain was in the commander’s voice again, a bleeding, open wound. “He must hang for it.”

They won’t give me the kindness of making it a clean fall with a broken neck, he’d said.

“... I see,” John said, and drew in a deep breath. He let his gaze wander around, across the faces of the men gathered by the soldiers - oh Lord, young Óscar was among them, eyes wide and scared behind his glasses - as he silently begged forgiveness from each of them. Anything to save his flock, he’d sworn to himself and to God, but this - this he could not do. Ernesto was of his flock too, the lost sheep. Whatever the consequences, they would be his own to live with.

Finally, he looked up again to meet Miguel’s gaze - and to his utter astonishment, Miguel met his gaze… and shook his head, so slightly.

Don’t tell him.

He knows.

Shock was almost great enough to make John lose his composure, but just almost. He sighed, and shook his head. "I am sorry, commander," he heard himself saying, his own voice distant. "I know no man by such name."

All at once, any humanity that has seemed to have returned to the man’s eyes was gone. “I see. Well, thank you for your useless intervention. Twenty-nine more men!” he screamed, turning to the soldiers. He turned his horse and John acted out on instinct, reaching up to grab the reins.

“Miguel is only a child!” John exclaimed, holding onto the reins despite the commander’s effort to tear it from his grasp. Only a child who reminded him of another he’d been forced to leave behind so long ago.

Michael was so young, I don’t know if he even remembers me. I don’t even know if they’re all still alive. It’s been so long.

But Miguel was there, alive, in need of help. “He’s only nine - and the boy over there with the glasses - they are still too young for this war. In God’s name--”

“God cares not for what happens here! Go preach to someone else, gringo! Let go!”

“For your own soul, if not for their lives! They’re children!”

“Let go, or I’ll shoot the boy in the head right now!”

“You monster! What sort of beast--”

“ENOUGH!”

There was the gleam of metal in the sun, a deafening bang, and screams. A terrible force knocked John back in the dust, tearing all breath out of his lungs. The sun filled his eyes for just a moment, impossibly bright, before cobwebs of darkness clouded his vision. He felt a terrible heat, something filling his mouth and soaking through his clothes. Thoughts ran through his mind like galloping horses, disjointed and increasingly muddled.

Is this it? Is it the end?

I will never see them again.

I am going to Hell, aren’t I?

Oh thank God, thank God he didn’t shoot him.

More cries, and a voice above all others, crying out Miguel’s name, full of the anguish only a father can feel. Hector's voice.

I am sorry, John tried to say, but all that left him was a gurgling sound. I couldn’t do it.

Yet even now, as he slipped out of consciousness, as he begged for God’s forgiveness and for those boys’ safety, he knew he could not regret his choice to give Ernesto a chance to save himself. If it cost him Hell, so be it. He would take the punishment.

Keep them safe, John begged without words, and dropped his head on the cobblestones, letting himself fall into nothingness as the screams around him faded into silence.

***

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***

A/N: Have some additional art by @whattimeisitintokyo to, uh, lighten up the mood, I guess?

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #hector rivera #imelda rivera #miguel rivera #coco #fake priest au

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ivarthebadbitch · 3 years

Text

Strange things can happen

Chapter 17 summary: The real work begins.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1831

Notes: This is it! Thanks to all for the likes, reblogs, comments...every single one is appreciated <3

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare @danisnotsosecret @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou

CHAPTER 17: Strange things happened

“Well, this is unexpected news,” Ecbert remarked over breakfast to his granddaughter and her husband. “You’re absolutely certain you consummated the marriage?”

Aldreda and Ivar glanced at each other and then looked away, both turning red. Ivar cleared his throat. “You did instruct me, King Ecbert.”

“So I did,” he said. It still seemed rather unlikely. He glanced at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who was rubbing his eyes blearily as Ubbe leaned over to whisper something in his ear. For once, the Northman seemed significantly more hungover than Ecbert after a late night of drinking, discussion, and sundry other activities. Ragnar briefly met his eyes and then slumped down in his seat, tilting his head back.

“Aldreda,” Ecbert addressed his granddaughter. “Is this true? Lying is a sin.”

“Father…” Aethelwulf complained, gesturing around the table at Aethelred and Alfred, who both were staring very intently at their porridge. “This is hardly an appropriate place to discuss such matters. The children are present.”

Ecbert brushed him aside. “We’re all family here, and besides, the boys will be married eventually and so they should learn now what will be expected of them.” He turned once again to his granddaughter. “Well, Aldreda?”

She blushed and looked away. “It’s true.”

Ecbert considered the pair for a moment, toying idly with his spoon. “Until very recently, neither of you were forthcoming about the status of your marriage. Are we to believe you now? Shall Ragnar Lothbrok and I stake our alliance on your word alone?”

Ivar and Aldreda were quiet, neither daring to even look at each other. Ragnar, though obviously still nursing a severe headache, let out a humorless chuckle and whispered something in Ubbe’s ear. Ubbe snorted in response.

As the silence stretched on, Judith finally cleared her throat. All eyes turned in her direction. “If the marriage has been consummated as they say, it does save the archbishop some paperwork, and the trouble of having to organize a second wedding,” she observed. “No expense was spared for the first wedding, and it would look rather poor to our allies for Aldreda to have to wear the same wedding dress twice in two months.”

“A good point,” Ecbert concurred. “But the validity of Ivar and Aldreda’s marriage should not be subject to doubt. Not in the eyes of our allies nor anyone else.”

“There will only be doubts about the marriage if those of us inside this room allow it,” Aethelwulf argued. He set his spoon down firmly on the table and shook his head. “Judith is correct. Father, your own judgment will be in question if the marriage is disrupted under such circumstances, especially since Aldreda and Ivar both claim it was consummated and they no longer wish to seek an annulment.”

Ecbert looked from Aethelwulf to Judith and back at Aethelwulf again, mildly surprised. It was rare for the two of them to be in agreement. He stirred his porridge thoughtfully, smashing the lumps against the side of the bowl. “I will take your point into consideration,” he said. “However, this matter equally concerns Ragnar, as it affects both of his sons.”

Ragnar, who had quietly been conveying the details of the conversation to Ubbe, finally straightened up with a skeptical expression on his face. Ubbe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at his younger brother with raised eyebrows. “Come on, Ivar,” Ubbe said in Norse as Ecbert turned his head and pretended to not understand. “You didn’t really do it. Somehow you convinced her to go along with this.”

Ivar rolled his eyes. “I didn’t convince her of anything.”

Ragnar scoffed. “Oh, something was agreed to,” he said to his sons in his own language. “But I don’t think Ivar was the one doing the convincing.” Having turned his head too quickly, he winced and rubbed his temples, and then lowered his forehead to rest on the table.

“There’s something else,” Aldreda spoke up in the silence that followed. “Ivar misses his home, and I would like to see Kattegat. With your permission, we would like to arrange for both of us to return there with his father and brother, for at least a year or two.”

Aethelwulf looked up sharply. “Aldreda…”

“I want to see the world outside of Wessex, Father,” she explained. She glanced at Ivar with a small smile. “And I will not be alone. This is what both of us want.”

Ecbert studied the conflicted expression on his son’s face—pride and doubt and fear. Just over a month ago, Aethelwulf had objected to his daughter even traveling to Mercia. Kattegat was considerably farther away, and not even a Christian kingdom. But finally, Aethelwulf nodded reluctantly. “One year,” he insisted, looking from his daughter to Ivar. “You have my blessing. I trust you will take care of each other.”

Aldreda beamed at him and turned to look at Ecbert. “Grandfather?” she asked in a small voice.

“Hm.” He looked from Ivar and Aldreda, both with anxious yet hopeful expressions on their faces. It was more than saving the archbishop paperwork or the expense of another wedding on Ecbert’s mind, of course: it had not escaped him that it could be very useful indeed to have one of his own in Kattegat to ensure that the terms of the trade deal were being followed and who could reliably report back on other matters concerning the Northmen. And although Aldreda was young, her word would still hold authority as his granddaughter and representative. Perhaps it was time to put her to the test.

“The marriage will not be annulled,” he said at last. “Indeed, any such suggestion that an annulment had ever been considered will be dismissed as baseless rumor. I will also allow one year to be spent in Kattegat. If my friend and ally Ragnar Lothbrok is satisfied with this resolution, then so am I.”

Ragnar shrugged and fixed his gaze on his son. Some silent communication passed between the two of them. Ragnar looked away first and sighed. “I am satisfied.”

A huge grin spread across Ivar’s face, and Aldreda clapped a hand over her mouth as though she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Around the table, the boys were giggling, Judith and Aethelwulf were looking at each other with surprising warmth, and even the skepticism on Ubbe and Ragnar’s faces was beginning to ease. Ecbert tapped the side of his bowl with his spoon and raised his voice.

“Well, that’s all settled, then,” he concluded. “Everyone, finish your porridge; we have much to make ready.”

Despite his order, nobody else was paying much attention to breakfast at that point, least of all Ivar and Aldreda, who still looked rather dazed by the turn of events. Ecbert shook his head, smiled to himself, and dug back into his porridge: the two didn’t realize it yet, but now the real work was about to begin.

It took several weeks of preparation, but at last, everything that needed arranging had been arranged, Ivar and Aldredea had said their farewells, the carriage was packed to the brim with Aldreda’s trunks, and they were on their way to the coast. With Ubbe and Ragnar going ahead of them on horseback, that left Ivar and Aldreda crammed in together in the carriage and practically sitting on top of each other.

“Why do you need to bring so many clothes?” Ivar complained as he wiggled around in the seat to try to get more comfortable, pushing her to the side with his body. “We could find you something to wear in Kattegat, you know.”

She pushed him back not very gently and stared at him as though he had just suggested that she travel to Kattegat naked. “They’re my clothes,” she said, sounding absolutely scandalized. “I need them.”

He rolled his eyes. “When I came to England, all I had with me were the clothes I was wearing.”

“Oh, I remember. You and your father were absolutely filthy the first time I saw you. Some of us have higher standards. Besides, I have to look my best when I meet your mother.”

He grinned and took her hand. “She’ll like you,” he said, and then backtracked. From the impression he had gotten from his father and Ubbe, his mother had not taken well to the idea of his marriage. “Well, maybe not right away. But eventually.”

“That’s why I have to make a good first impression,” she replied tartly.

He smiled and looked down at their intertwined hands. None of this still felt entirely real to him—that they were still married, that both of their families had agreed to it, that they were in a carriage headed to the coast and from there, to Kattegat. “What if they figure it out?” he asked quietly. “That we didn’t really...you know. Consummate the marriage.”

She squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter that much if they know or don’t know,” she reassured him. “They were willing to go along with it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“I guess not,” he said, still not entirely convinced.

“The most important thing is that we’ll be together,” she said firmly. “Besides, we will be in Kattegat for an entire year. Who knows what will happen in that much time?”

“It’s enough time to make a pagan out of you,” he joked. “I can teach you how to sacrifice a goat. That would please my mother for sure.”

She smacked his shoulder with her free hand. “I’m sure there must be other ways I can please your mother.”

“Your father tried to make me learn about your bread god,” Ivar complained. “I think this is a fair trade.”

“You had to sit down one time with a priest to learn a prayer, and you didn’t even do that. That’s not the same thing as me sacrificing a goat,” she said dryly.

“Fine, no goats,” he agreed. He looked down, running his thumb along her palm, thinking back to the last time they had been together in a carriage like this.

Aldreda rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just remembering the journey from Mercia back to Wessex,” he said. Aldreda had asked him to tell her about Kattegat. He had thought back then about what it would be like for him to take her to see his home and meet his family, and how impossible that had seemed. And something else had happened as well…

“Oh.” Aldreda blushed and sat up. She was obviously thinking about the same thing.

“You kissed me.”

She turned even redder, but she didn’t let go of his hand. After regarding him for a moment, she asked him shyly, “What if...we did it again?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So she kissed him and laughed, and to Ivar, her laugh sounded like joy, like hope, like the beginning of something wonderful.

#vikings #ivar the boneless #fanfiction #fic: strange things can happen

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 00: Prologue

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,128

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi

AN: I’ve teased you all enough with this. I’ve been doing it since Yoongi dropped that damn MV (you all know it by now, don’t act like you don’t). And now here we are. Me. Again. Teasing you with a prologue. But it will be worth the wait, my loves. It will be worth the torture that I am about to put you all through. Because it’s a story I think needs to be told. I know I’ve seen some one-shots out there, and while that’s great, I want to put my Korean History knowledge through the ringer and really put you guys on a roller coaster. If you love this story, show it love. I’m writing this because it’s a story featuring a subject I’m passionate about and one that I will put all of my heart and soul into. Just like with Make It Right. So I present to you the start of this journey, this trilogy series (yes, I said it) full of heartbreak, magic and love.

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“The more a thing is perfect, the more it feels pleasure and pain.” - Dante Alighieri - The Divine Comedy

Thunder rumbled across the skies as a pained scream tore through the night.

Hurried footsteps echoed through the palace halls as maid servants and eunuchs piddled about. Some carried brass basins full of water, others had armfuls of fresh linens. Royal physicians moved in and out of the White Lily Pavilion, urgency in their steps, and everyone was talking at once.

“The water isn’t hot enough!”

“Are those fresh linens?”

“The tonic is almost ready!”

“She’s sweating far too much!”

“We need another pillow!”

“Her legs are swollen. We need cold compresses!”

“Elevate them for now!”

“Her Majesty needs some water!”

Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from one of the maidservants as an approaching eunuch appeared, followed by a small entourage of soldiers, eunuchs and handmaidens. She stumbled forward when another servant ran into her back, nearly knocking the fresh basin of water from her hands.

“His Majesty, The King, has arrived!”

Those who were able to, prostrated themselves before the king immediately. He wore deep crimson robes with golden dragons embroidered on the sleeves and chest. The topknot was held together with a golden ornament that resembled flames - a dragon pin pushed through to hold the item in place. His eyes were wide, full of concern, and burned a rich umber that was reflected from the crack of lightning that lit up the sky.

“How is she?” he asked as the royal physician approached, wringing his hands clean of blood. “It’s been hours!”

The Royal Physician sighed, sweat beading out over his forehead and nose. “It is a difficult labor, Your Majesty. Truthfully, I’m worried about Her Majesty’s safety.”

The King glared at him, causing the doctor to flinch slightly. “If she dies, I will have your head. Do you understand?”

The physician bowed deeply, as did his assistants. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I will do everything in my power to ensure that the Queen has a healthy delivery.”

Suddenly, one of the maid servants appeared, a smile on her face. “The baby is breaching, Sir!”

The Royal Physician made haste, following after the servant and back into the pavilion. The King watched, his hands locked together as he began to silently pray for the safety of both his Queen and his child. His eunuch and bodyguard sidled up on either side of him, whispering encouraging words to help ease his anxieties.

After what felt like hours of listening to the doctors and servants yelling encouraging words to the Queen, a shrill yell of agony broke through the night. On the tail end of the scream, a baby’s cry could be heard. The King felt his legs give way and he was held up by his attendants as he laughed in relief. But just before he was allowed to enter his Queen’s chamber, he heard something concerning.

“My Lord! Another one! Another child is pushing through!”

“What?!” the physician yelled, confused. This concerned the King, but since the Queen was still in labor, he was not granted entrance into her chambers. “Bring more linens and fetch Her Majesty’s tonic! Hurry!”

More urging words were given to the Queen as she continued her labor. The tension was so thick in the air that it could be sliced completely in half with a sword. Every so often, an attendant would tap at the sweat collecting on the King’s brow and temple. The storm that threatened to rain down on them continued to make itself known until another young voice pierced through the sky.

The King didn’t bother halting his steps as he all but ran toward the entrance of the Lily Pavilion. He kicked off his boots and his sock-clad feet thundered against the polished wood flooring. Two servants quickly slid the doors open to allow the King to enter the Queen’s chambers. His haggard breathing escalated when he saw his Queen’s complexion was even paler than when he’d last seen her. The servants and physicians quickly moved aside to allow the King to situate himself at her bedside.

“Choon-jung,” he whispered, his hands immediately moving to grasp her own as she reached out to him, “you did very well.”

Tears leaked from her eyes as she smiled weakly up at him. “Cheon-ha,” she managed to croak out, her dark bangs clinging to the sweat on her forehead and cheeks, “forgive your servant for her lack of grace.”

“Nonsense.” He stroked her cheek with as much affection as he could without allowing his emotions to overcome him. “You must rest now, my Queen. It has been a long night.”

“Your grace is immeasurable.” Again, she smiled. For a moment, all they did was look at each other. Finally, she huffed out a breath and craned her neck in different directions. “The Royal Physician?”

“I believe he went to go fetch your tonic, my Queen.” The King watched her nod again. Just as he was about to speak, two maidservants appeared. Each of them were holding thick silk blankets; one gold and the other emerald green. The King’s happy mood slowly grew dour. “Are they princes or princesses?”

The two servants seemed to sense the tone shift in The King’s expression and voice. They both looked at one another before lowering their heads solemnly. When he slammed his hand on the floor, they immediately fell to their knees while cradling the children and prostrating themselves at the Queen’s bedside.

“Forgive us, Your Majesty!”

“My King,” called his Queen, attempting to soothe his ire, “please, you must remain calm.”

“Are they princes or princesses?” He asked the question again through clenched teeth. He would not ask a third time.

One servant lifted her head to meet the King’s harsh gaze, gasping and then dipping it back down again. “F-Forgive your servant’s insolence, Your Majesty,” she stammered, clinging to the emerald blanket for what he could only assume was out of comfort, “they are both healthy princes.”

“Dojin-ah,” the King called, his hand already extended out in waiting. His bodyguard approached and placed a small dagger in the King’s palm. The two servants huddled even closer together as the King stood. “Which of the princes was born first?”

The Queen sat up fully, arms flying outward to cling to the lower half of the King’s robes. “Cheon-ha! I beg you to show mercy!” She tightened her grip on the silk fabric and he could only flash a pained expression as he stared into her fearful eyes. “They are your sons, My King!”

“You know that I cannot do that, Choon-jung,” he replied softly, his brows furrowing, “twin sons will only create turmoil in the Royal court. I do not want my sons fighting over the throne in the future. Nor will I have them be used as tools by any of the noble factions to obtain more power for themselves.”

Tears spilled from the Queen’s eyes and her hands slowly slid from his robes. He knew that she couldn’t argue with him. It wasn’t her place, and even if it were, she had no counterargument to dissuade him with. Reaching down to stroke her cheek, he gave her a silent apology with a mere look. He slowly unsheathed the dagger, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the two maidservants.

“Which of the princes was born first?” he asked again, pointing the tip of the dagger in their direction. “Do not lie to me or I will take your lives from you. Do you understand?”

The girl holding the golden blanket shuffled forward on her knees, holding the child swaddled inside out to the King. “This is the first-born prince, Your Majesty.”

He hummed, turning to face the servant holding the emerald blanket. “Give me the child.” Her head shot up and she turned a frightful gaze to the Queen. For a while, all the Queen could do was avert her gaze. “NOW!” The King’s booming voice shook the young servant girl from her frozen state and she slowly stood to approach the King.

When the child was placed into his arms, the King looked down at the young prince. His hair was jet black and his complexion was a bit red from having been brought into the world finally. The child fought sleep for a few seconds before he blinked up a set of dark, curious eyes at him. The King’s heart skipped a beat when the child sputtered a tiny giggle and smiled at him.

For a moment, the King of Joseon believed he would not be able to do this.

Before he could stop her, the Queen was up on her feet and wrenched the child from his grasp. She stumbled backwards, landing hard on her bedding. Her hair and robes were completely disheveled and her servants were immediately at her side as they began to straighten her appearance as best they could. Clinging to the child, she glared harshly up at the King.

He sighed. “Choon-jung,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing, “do not do this.”

“I cannot let you kill him!” She pulled the baby up to her cheek and buried her face into the blanket, sobbing openly into it. “I will not let you do it!”

The King hated seeing his beloved Queen in this state. For as long as they’d been married, before he’d even been crowned King of Joseon, he simply wanted to live a fulfilling life with his wife. They’d tried many times over the years to bear children, but to no avail. And now, when they were finally granted a miracle from the Heavens, they were instead cursed with two sons.

He’d never wished for the twins to have been princesses more than in that very moment.

Again, the Queen reached out to cling at his robes. He knew that she was desperate and he wanted nothing more than to grant her every wish she desired. But bloodshed often ran rampant in the palace. It took place when he was a child many years ago. He didn’t want that life for his sons.

“Please, My King! If you must deny this child’s existence, then send him away!” Seeing her tear-stained cheeks upset him and he slowly lowered himself down to her. “Please don’t kill our son. I’m begging you!”

For a long moment, no one said anything. The only sounds that could be heard were the tiny coughs and sleepy sneezes of his sons. Finally, he sighed and lowered the dagger at his side. He could not win against her.

“Very well,” he said, causing her to release another sob; this time from relief.

His bodyguard, Dojin, was about to retrieve the dagger. But before he could get his hands on it, the King shot his arm out to snatch his son out of the Queen’s arms. Before she could stop him, the King brought the dagger’s blade down on the child’s face. Blood wept from the right cheek and the infant screamed in pain. The Queen’s own screams intermingled with the noise and while it hurt his heart to do this, he knew that it had to be done.

He rose to his feet, handing both the dagger and the child to Dojin. “Take him, Dojin-ah. Take him and leave the Capital at once.” His bodyguard blinked, holding the child close to his chest. “You are not allowed to return unless summoned. Do you understand?”

Dojin’s lips parted slightly. “B-But Your Majesty…”

“He is your son now, Dojin-ah.” Reaching into the sleeve of his robe, he pulled out hiding inside of his palm and shoved it into the silk belt wrapped around Dojin’s waist. “When the time comes, give this to him. You will know when.”

He watched his bodyguard and dearest friend frown. “Your Majesty…”

“This is my decree.” The King placed his hands on Dojin’s shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Go. Go now!”

He watched Dojin lower his head sharply and then hastily made his retreat just as the Royal Physician returned. He looked over his shoulder curiously and the King quickly swept his arm out across his body. “The Queen only gave birth to one son. That is what the entire Kingdom will know from this day forward.” His eyes narrowed as the servants and physicians all looked between each other. “If I so much as hear a whisper of anything else within these palace halls, I will bathe the royal gardens with your blood.”

Sharp gasps and hushed whispers were thrown between everyone. The King stomped his foot, commanding for silence. “Am I making myself clear?!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” All the servants lowered themselves, their heads bowed deeply to hide their faces. “Your grace is immeasurable!”

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chick-from-nz · 4 years

Text

Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 6)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually)

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk, spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC

AUTHORS NOTE: not too much happening this chapter, again a big thank you to @1zashreena1 for helping me with my ideas for this chapter. finally a first name for the OC, and Sinclair being a dick. hope yall enjoy

WORD COUNT: 3.1K

CHAPTER: 6 OF ?

TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

Greyson woke with a gasp, her head was pounding like she’d been on a week long bender, and her jaw ached beyond measure. She went to sit up only to fall back clutching her side in pain, Ugh what the fuck. Shaking away the blurry vision that came with waking up, she allowed her eyes to adjust to her surroundings. She took in the clinically white walls and curtains, the bed that looked too medical to be her own and finally her eyes landed on the tubes in her arms. Why the fuck am I in the hospital!. A fresh wave of panic shot through the cadet as she went to climb out of the bed and find someone to explain to her what the hell she was doing here. But as she went to sit up again a pair of large, strong hands softly pinned her back in place. She swung to her right ready to give the person a piece of her mind, only to make eye contact with a pair of tired looking deep brown eyes. What’s Colonel Carrillo doing here?

“Don’t move Second Lt Greyson, you’re not in good shape” He offered softly. “I’ll go grab the medic in charge. Stay put” the last bit was said as more of a light order. He knew from her grimace when she woke that she was in more pain than she let on. He’d seen a similar look on his own face one to many times. He patted her gently on the shoulder, as to not aggravate her injuries any further, and turned to walk out the door and alert the medics, only to be stopped by a smaller, softer hand grabbing his own.

“Sir, what do you mean Second Lieutenant? I haven’t graduated yet!” Anger, always her go to emotion, bled through the initial confusion in her tone. There was no way she had graduated, she would remember that surely. She dared a glance at his face but first noted the way she was gripping his hand with such force she was probably hurting him. She dropped his hand like he was made of fire. Eyes dragged over his torso slowly, his shoulders were slumped, his posture nothing like the Colonel she was used to seeing, if only briefly. What the fuck has gotten into him?. “Sir, is something wrong?” her tone was soft enough to shock herself, was she subconsciously trying to comfort him, she shook that thought off, now is not the time for that you idiot.

Carrillo sighed, running a hand over his face like he was trying to wash away the hours a day he had spent reading over files while keeping a watch over her. He knew that when she came to, she would waffle off questions a mile a minute, without much of a care from her injuries. He had read over any report that contained highly detailed information about her. He had sat down with each cadet and discussed what she was like in training before he arrived. Most of the cadets enjoyed her company, looked up to her and envied her unparalleled skills. Yes some of the females were jealous of how she seemed to fit in with some of the boys and how many of the male instructors paid attention to her, but none displayed the attitude or mental instability to want to physically hurt the cadet who laid awake in the hospital bed before him.

One way or another he knew the truth would come out, he could only hope that she would not try and seek vengeance when they finally found the culprit, or maybe it would help her , he mused. “You’ve been laid up in bed for just over a week Greyson, whoever did this to you knew what they were doing and hit you hard. I’ll let the medics cover most of it but, you're a permanent member of my team now, your position in the army is safe. Congratulations for graduating” The last bit was added as a kind of after statement and accompanied with a shrug. He didn't really know what to say to the young officer before him. The attack on her had put the base, and his team who were currently scattered on deployments, into high alert. He didn’t know how to explain it but the sinking feeling at losing a team member, one as talented as she was, so soon had cut him deeper than he’d ever admit. Strange for only having known Greyson for no longer than a few weeks.

Greyson lay there stunned while watching him leave the room. Out for over a week, everyone has graduated, and she’s a permanent member of his team?. Who knew so much could happen while being unconscious for a week. Her side was itchy, too itchy. Lifting the blankets that covered her body and taking in a relatively large white bandage on her side has her eyes growing wide. The fuck happened to me. Obviously her injuries were worse than the Colonel let on. He had said she’d been targeted, so whoever had done this had motive. The only motive against her she could think of was her tarnished last name because of her father. Of course that prick's mistakes would come round to bite me in the ass. Greyson laughed and regretted it instantly. The pain that radiated from her left side was some of the worst she’d felt since breaking three of her ribs in a kickboxing tournament, actually, now that she thought about it, the pain was the same. It wouldn’t surprise her if she had broken those same ribs again.

Turns out, she was, in fact, correct. The medics had entered the room a short while after the Colonel had left and detailed her injuries. Four broken ribs, a split eyebrow, forehead split from the opposite eyebrow to the scalp, a concussion that she would be nursing for another week or so, a broken nose that would soon be healed and last but not least, an inch deep stab wound to her left side that went from just above her hip to just below her ribs. Whoever had done this really did a number on her, that was for sure. The list of injuries sure came as a shock to the soldier, it was clear that the person who committed this crime was out for blood, and it was almost as though they had sought to kill her but had been spooked by someone entering the gym. She definitely had to see Calliope and thank him for saving her life, and thank Carrillo for saving her damn career.

It was around an hour or so later that her door opened again, presuming it was just the Colonel coming to check to make sure she hadn’t carked it since he last left the room, she didn’t bother to open her eyes or lift her head from the position of comfortable rest she was in. A mistake on her behalf, she tensed when a hand grabbed her own and began rubbing small circles on her palm. There was no way this was the Colonel. The hands were arguably smaller and not as calloused as the aforementioned mans were. Not that I paid attention to that, she told herself. Or more accurately, lied to herself. It was practically the only thing she had focused on when she had reached out to grab a hold of him. She could not shake the feeling of those strong, calloused and oh so large and warm hands travelling across other parts of her body. Ok seriously, not the way to think of him, even if he is a god of a man.

Daring to open an eye just enough to get a glimpse of the person in her room, she nearly clambered from the bed in shock, although it really should not have come as a surprise to her that the Lt. Colonel had found his way into her room. She observed the fact that he looked shattered. Big dark circles under his eyes, slumped posture, and eyes that made him look less like the jovial forever joking around man and more like the man who carried the rank of Lt. Colonel. She heard what sounded like a sniffle come from the man, is he really crying right now?

Sinclair was indeed crying. He felt partially responsible for what had happened to the young officer in the bed before him. Maybe if he hadn’t have pushed her then she would have graduated with her pairs and be running round learning the ways of her new team. But no, here she was lying in a bed she had no place being, with an amount of stitches he didn’t even want to think about and probably hating his guts. Which he felt was probably the most accurate response she could have to this situation. Still, he had to try his luck. She had, after all, graduated and was now a serving officer.

“I’m fucking sorry, Ash. I should’ve gone after you and talked it out. I didn't want you to think badly about me because of it” He sniffed, voice cracked, but he continued on, “It's all my fault, i should never have put you in the position, I’m sorry” his voice tapered off at the end, broken slightly by his now croaky voice as the tears began to come full force, emotion over taking him more than he thought possible. He genuinely liked this girl, despite going about it the wrong way, he felt deeply for her and would continue to even if she rejected him, although this time he would cut his losses and attempt to move on. He jumped briefly when he felt her hand close in around his, he didn’t know she was awake. Now he felt stupid for crying.

“Sir, it’s not your fault, I don’t blame you for what happened. If anything, it’s my own fault for continuing to feel something for you even when I knew nothing could ever come of it. And for that I’m sorry” she stopped to gather herself, taking a deep breath before continuing, “But I do think it’s best that we stop whatever this could have been before it even begins. It will not look good for either of us, no matter how much we both might want it, I’m sorry Sir” Ash cleared her throat before looking up at the man who was still rubbing soothing circles on her hand, his grip had tightened slightly when she said they shouldn’t continue, but he looked somewhat, relieved? And then he was laughing, a full bellied laugh that confused Ash to no end. She tilted her head at him, one eyebrow raised, and an expression that said Care to share what's so funny

“I knew it! I bloody knew it. Of course it wasn’t one sided, I knew you felt something for me” His tone was joyous, his smile was one akin to that of a cat that caught the canary. “Why didn’t you tell me, all this confusion could have been fixed, we could be together, right now, happy. You could’ve been mine already”

A shudder of disgust ran through the young officer, one strong enough for her to yank her hand out of his and bring it closer to her chest, safely away from his grasp. If Ash wasn’t already denying the man before her an attempt at a relationship, then his final sentence would have thrown her over the line. She wasn’t anyone's to keep. Let alone this deranged Lt. Colonels. If anything there was only one person, or team rather, she belonged to. And that was not Sinclair, no matter how bad he wanted that. His expression turned from one of joy to anger in a very short minute, one that scared Ash, not that she let that emotion cross her face, lest he think he’s won.

Ash gulped, gathered some courage and was about to give the LT. Colonel a piece of her mind when the door to her room opened suddenly to reveal Colonel Carrillo. It took Ash a moment to register the look of controlled anger on the Colonels face before she realized it wasn’t directed at her, but the man to her right. He took a calculated step into the room, before closing the door with a deliberate force. There was no denying who was in charge right now, the raw power the colonel was displaying sent a pang of heat straight to Greyson’s gut. Fuck why is he so undeniably hot right now, common Sir, hit him . Ash snorted at her internal thoughts. God, she was a mess sometimes.

The glare Colonel Carrillo leveled Sinclair with would make any sane man start begging for forgiveness on the spot. Sinclair had proven one two many times his intentions with Greyson, and now, having heard from standing outside the room, that he was trying to claim her as his own and convince her that they should be together, it made him irate. Obviously his previous warning was not taken on board by the lieutenant. Worse still, he had felt an unusual pang in his chest when he had heard the second lieutenant confess that she felt something for the dishonorable man standing before him now. “If you don’t get the fuck out of this room within the next ten seconds I’ll put a bullet in your thick skull. Obviously threatening your rank wasn’t enough, so don’t fucking try me this time Sinclair, that's an order!”

Ash gulped at the tension forming between both men. Sinclair had stood from the chair he had resided in and was nearly toe to toe with the superior officer. There was anger rolling off him in waves, his shoulders were pulled back and he was puffing out his chest. Fucking typical males, Ash scoffed. But from her vantage point she could see that Carrillo was entirely too calm about squaring off with the man before him. He stood just an inch shorter than Sinclair but was broader by far, and carried a strength that surpassed any the lieutenant could ever dream to possess. He was staring down his nose at him, smirking to egg the man on to make the first move. And in the moment Greyson had never seen a more attractive sight. It was thrilling to be this close to such a raw display of power and such a far less man thinking he had a chance to beat the formidable Colonel Carrillo.

If Ash was to recall the day further on in her career she would say it was Sinclair who threw the first punch and started the fight, despite clearly seeing Carrillo mutter something low enough for only the men to hear. Whatever it was had its desired effect. The right hook that was thrown clipped the edge of the Colonel’s jaw but barely phased him, one minute he was registering a small inkling of pain, the next he had the slightly younger officer pinned to the wall, forearm across his throat, and hand grasping his pistol, ready to pull it from its holster and follow through with his current threat. He began to pull said gun from its holster, only to be stopped by a smaller hand covering his own and a quiet but firm voice whispering against the shell of his ear, “Don’t Carrillo, he’s not worth the paperwork”.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, what was he even doing?. Greyson was right, the useless excuse of an officer before him really wasn’t worth the paper work. He secured his pistol before ripping his arm off the man's throat, smirking at the way he was gasping for breath and beyond pale. Good he thought, maybe this time the message has really been cemented in this idiots’ brain . He didn’t need to tell the man to leave, once he had gathered enough breath to move he was all but sprinting from the room, not even daring to glance back at the youngest officer in the room. Carrillo was startled from his thoughts when Ash punched him in the arm, before wincing and pulling her hand back. He glanced at her, a shocked expression on his face, awaiting her next move.

“What the fuck was that!?” she hissed out at him before taking in a deep breath to center herself, her vision was a little blurry but she attributed that to the fact she had practically leapt from the bed to stop the Colonel committing blue force murder. Even if she despised Sinclair and his actions, she honestly couldn’t believe she actually had feelings for a man like that, the idea sent a cold shiver down her back. Ash swayed on her feet, she was getting increasingly unsteady. Warm hands grabbed her by the elbows and guided her back to the bed, she was thankful for that, even if she was partially angry at the Colonel before her.

“Stop being difficult and stay in the damn bed soldier” His gruff voice made her shiver but she obeyed him nonetheless, likely due to the underlying order in his tone. He seemed to think for a moment, contemplating the right words to say, before he shrugged and announced “The medics decided it would be best for you to be monitored for the next few weeks until you’re given a clean bill of health. So I offered my place, or rather the team's new headquarters. The rest of the team will arrive in a month or so off deployment, it's gonna be just us in the meantime” He ceased speaking for a moment as he made his way to the door, “I’ll go sign your discharge papers, we depart in twenty, chop chop Lieutenant” and without so much as another word, he disappeared out the door. Ash was stunned, a seemingly normal occurrence while in his presence. A month in a house, alone with Colonel Carrillo, this could be both the best and worst thing to happen to her lately, but she couldn’t wait, this could be a wild ride, or a terrible nightmare. Greyson hoped it was the former rather than the later.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #horacio carrillo x reader #paper scissors rank #chapter 6 #modern au #narcos fanfic #narcos

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter Eight

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 3,900

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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Collapsing into one of the comfier library chairs set between some stacks, George took a sip of the small glass of whiskey she figured she'd earned. She'd just scolded a fucking demon from hell. What was she thinking?! It had been pretty cool, but pissing off an evil, powerful being was maybe not the smartest. She could have gotten herself killed!

It had been unavoidable though; upon realizing that Demon Tim must have been the reason they suspected her of being involved in Jack's disappearance, she had been furious. Not only was it not true, it was insulting, humiliating, and just plain rude. It was also simply a bad plan. So, she took it upon herself to enlighten him and to correct his offensive insinuations. Hopefully, it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.

Her focus shifted then to Jack. Reflecting over her time there, there were things she remembered having happened on the show. The refugees in the bunker, AU Michael attacking, Jack losing his powers, Lucifer dude being just a regular human dude now; all of it was familiar, even when it terrified her (see: AU Michael attack). But, when they told her Jack was missing, she was thrown off at first. It wasn't something she remembered seeing on the show. Then again, she'd only just finished binging from season 10 to the end of 13 a couple weeks ago and hadn't started 14 yet. So, maybe she was past the point of being able to tell when things were part of their prescribed timeline or not? Therefore, even if Jack had been kidnapped on the show, she wouldn't have any info for them, right?

The problem was, the more she thought about it the more she began to believe she had seen something about this storyline. Jack being missing, the three of them going to save him-

Was it Ryan telling you about some episode where they rescued Jack in the redwoods? They had filmed it on location at some tourist spot you went to as a kid all the time and she thought you'd think it was cool… where was that?

She couldn't remember, and it frustrated her. She was also worried that she was making this all up just to be helpful.

Taking another sip, she allowed her thoughts to wander between episode scenes like an internal microfiche as she tried to nail down her recollection, No, I can definitely picture all four of them in the woods and fighting. Someone had kidnapped Jack, wanting his powers for something… was it the angels?

"Well, that was interesting," Dean stated, startling her out of her thoughts. The three of them were walking into the library a surprisingly short while after she left them with Tim.

Looking up at them, she set the glass down on a nearby shelf and stood up. Dean didn't elaborate further while he poured his own glass. The expressions each one wore were indiscernible and she grew nervous.

"Oh?" George raised a brow and looked between them, "Did he talk? Because you know, I've actually been sitting here thinking about this whole situation and something about Jack going missing is very familiar. Now, unfortunately, I am a few seasons behind, and-""

Dean took a sip, looking at her with curious amusement, and interrupted, "I was talking about you."

George looked surprised and then grimaced, "No, no. I'm not interesting, not at all. I'm the exact opposite of interesting. I'm-I'm… I'm…"

"Uninteresting?" Castiel offered helpfully as she struggled to find the words. Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in unison.

"Right! Thank you, Castiel. I'm highly uninteresting." She gulped a bit and wrung her hands as the three of them kept watching her. In the silence, she nervously looked in Castiels direction and blurted quickly, "I'm also George! Hi! Really nice to meet you! Big fan!"

"Nice to meet you," Castiel smiled awkwardly and nodded a greeting, looking at the other two with a confused expression, "...fan of what?"

"Right, positively boring," Sam interjected sarcastically before he could stop himself. He definitely thought she was interesting. First she's just a beautiful woman, then she's a beautiful woman he may or may not have had a life altering dream about ten years ago, and now she was a beautiful woman from an alternate reality where his life was a prime time television show… who he may or may not have had a life altering dream about ten years ago. 'Uninteresting' was definitely not an adjective he'd use for her.

Dean snorted, "Yea, boring is the last word I would use to describe that scene earlier. You caused Tim to sing like a canary, by the way."

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, "Say what?"

"I almost say we hire her to be our monster torture hypeman," He joked, looking at Sam with a raised eyebrow.

Sam ignored him and addressed Geroge's question, "After you left, Tim-"

"Cleetus," Dean interjected sarcastically.

"Cleetus… well, he sort of... started crying? He said he'd tell us everything we wanted to know if we promised to keep you away from him." Sam looked strangely apologetic and she let a few nervous chuckles escape, unsure whether to believe what they were saying.

"We think you hurt his feelings," Castiel explained further. "Which fortunately seemed to motivate him to talk, so thank you."

"I guess his demon mommy didn't teach him about sticks and stones," Dean cracked, taking another swig.

"Huh. OK. Neat!" George didn't know what to say; she was confused and strangely proud of herself. But she didn't want them to think she wasn't chill, so she shrugged nonchalantly, "You're welcome, I guess. Anyway, as I was saying, I'm not caught up to the current season of my timeline but I think I remember this whole Jack-gone-missing thing a little bit. I want to say you all track him down somewhere in… Oregon? Washington? I'm getting a Northwest-ish feeling." She began unconsciously pacing around the room, gesturing energetically with her hands. "I can picture a battle taking place in the woods...Jack being in danger, you all being in danger, too...some fighting...maybe someone losing the fight? Or getting really hurt," She glanced worriedly at Castiel. He'd be the only actor they'd axe of the three of them, so it stood to reason he'd be the most likely to die if she was right.

Dean and Sam shared a look before Dean asked, "Fine, I'll bite. Do you know a city? A time-frame? Who we're fighting? Anything specific?"

George paused and then slumped a bit in defeat, "No. I've only really watched up through, like, literally now. Other than random things I've heard or seen in passing, I don't know anything that's happened since ya'll got back from the apocalypse world. Been purposefully trying to avoid spoilers, too, which is a decision I now regret, obviously."

"OK, well look, sweetheart, it's OK," Dean began, in an embarrassingly condescending, douchey tone, "We don't expect you to help us. I mean, we're grateful about the assist with Cleetus, obviously but this-" Dean vaguely motioned in her direction and she raised an offended eyebrow, "-was obviously just a weird magical mess that Rowena left for us to clean up yet again. So, you just sit back and relax, and once we find Jack we'll figure out how to get you back home in a jiff, OK?" He winked and finger gunned at her, adding, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." In his way, Dean was trying to convey to her a sense of ease and comfort that they would take care of things. But, unsurprisingly, he came off incredibly dismissive and patronizing. Her cheeks flushed an angry red; she'd had it up to here with him by now.

Sam and Castiel exchanged nervous glances at the look on her face and Sam tried to stop it before the inevitable happened, "Uh, Dean, mayb-"

Cutting him off, George slowly walked toward Dean, eyes blazing, "Listen sweet cheeks." She had a polite smile on her face as she tried her hardest to muster up the same condescending, silky, sweet Dean-tone, "I'm sympathetic to the fact that you can't help but be an insufferably arrogant ass most of the time-that's just how you were written," for a split second she saw Dean's cool-guy-smug-face falter and she relished it. She could tell she landed a blow, even if it was a small one, "but maybe you could do us all a favor and try to ignore your cro-magnon dated natural urges and attempt to be open minded for once in your life? Just try to consider the fact that, like it or not, I might not be a total useless red-shirt? That maybe I-once again the lone female in the entire world according to Supernatural-might actually be useful? Hmm? Might actually have useful-albeit vague-information for you? Or would taking your lead from a woman be too threatening to you overbearing, uber-macho, 'we-get-it-you're-totally-straight' masculinity?"

Dean's head jerked back in offense, "Now, wait a minute! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," She mocked him in a deep, goofy tone, high-fiving herself internally. Nailed it! She'd always hated how damn smug his character was. Yes, fine, he was hot and charming and smart as fuck and right at least like 75% of the time, but he didn't have to be so fucking arrogant about it all the time. She preferred a man with some humility.

Sam was smirking at the look on Dean's face and muttered teasingly, "How does it feel, Cleetus?"

"Except, you actually don't." Cas interjected begrudgingly, as he thoroughly enjoyed watching Dean get verbally bitch-slapped. In fact, he could watch it all day, but they needed to focus on Jack.

"Scuse me?" She said, maintaining her sweet tone while staring daggers at Dean. "Don't what?"

"Have useful information for us," the angel said begrudgingly matter-of-fact.

"Er," Sam interjected seeing the look on her face, "Uh, well, it's just according to Tim-Cleetus-whatever, Jack is being held captive inside an old church in a small ghost town outside Butte."

Dean slapped his hands over his mouth in mock surprise and then, taking a few steps toward George, he mimed a balloon being popped by an impractically large needle. He had an impossibly large grin spread across his face.

"She still has a point, Dean," Sam sighed in an annoyed, if not slightly embarrassed, tone at his brother's display.

Cas nodded in agreement, "Yes, you were incredibly condescending and unfriendly in your attempt at being friendly earlier. Even though she's wrong about Jack, she's right about your inability to relinquish control-to anyone, though, not specifically women."

"You all suck." Dean said flatly.

George ignored him and shook her head. She was more and more sure about her information by the second; despite her doubts she could feel she was right. "Listen, I'm telling you, Jack is not in some bullshit church in Montana. He's…" She struggled to remember. "Erg, somewhere rainy and wooded!"

"Rainy and wooded, you say?" She cringed angrily at the sound of Dean's voice. "That's really great, very helpful. Say, maybe we should look up your little murder buddy-OwnsHisOwnAxe69, was it?-and ask if he's got Jack stashed in the Marin Headlands?" Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm.

George shook her head at him and closed her eyes tight in an effort to block out his negativity. Walking slowly away from him and into the map room, she started talking to herself, in a pointedly loud voice. Her focus bounced between episodes from the show and conversations with her friend, Ryan, a Supernatural Encyclopedia. She was hoping she could piece together something useful.

"OK, hang on, Jack is born, gets sucked into Apocalypse World, comes back, has his grace stolen but he's safely with you guys, he's happy, he's great-albeit, moody and not the best at video games. Then he disappears and you can't find him, yadda yadda."

While she rambled, her mind's eye began conjuring images of what she assumed were scenes from the episode she was trying to think of. While helpful, it was also disconcerting since she'd never actually seen it. She thought perhaps she'd seen clips on youtube while watching bloopers? She never could stay away from them, even if she hadn't seen the episode yet; they were just too funny. Maybe her overactive imagination was just creating scenes around what little knowledge she did have, "...and there's an epic-potentially deadly-fight scene at the end of one of the last episodes of the season. An episode that was, oh so noteworthily filmed on location iiiiinnn…" She tried to demand that her memories behave for her but it was challenging, considering she shouldn't have any memories of having watched the damn thing at all. "...where? Fuck me!" She snarled, chasing desperately after her murky visions as they swirled too abstractly for her to discern.

In a sudden moment of unusual clarity she could see the words displayed behind her eyelids. '...False Klamath? Where the fuck… why does that sound familiar? She flashed to the location in her memories and saw big wooden statues towering outside the scenic little tourist trap

Her eyes popped open with a gasp, "Johnny Appleseed!"

"Johnny Appleseed?" Dean teased, mock exasperatedly, "We're trying to find JACK."

"The Johnny Appleseed statue at The Trees of Enigma! Just outside False Klamath, Oregon!" She slammed both her hands down on the table in front of her in uncontrollably jubilant victory. "HA! Take THAT!" She jumped up excitedly and punched her fist in the air. "I did it! I remembered!"

"Sam, can you translate any of this?" Dean asked, annoyed.

"On the show," She started smugly, before Sam could say anything, "the battle that you two get into when you find Jack, takes place at a tourist spot called The Trees of Enigma. The episode was filmed on location at said tourist spot, in-say it with me now-False Klamath, Oregon. Oregon, Dean. A place that is known for being both rainy and wooded." Her finger was placed on the map table in the general area of Oregon, "that's where you'll find Jack. I'm sure of it." Her adrenaline was pumping and she was so stoked. It felt really good to be useful; like she was part of the show!

"Yea, that's great, sounds fun," Dean started dismissively, though toned down a bit, "but we're not risking Jack's life to follow your hunch."

"Excuse me. Why is my so-called hunch less believable than a demon's word? Especially a demon named Cleetus. Rude," George looked particularly offended now.

"Tim gave us real, solid intel and we've never had a problem when we've relied on our trusted resources in the past," He answered confidently. George's head jerked toward him like she hadn't heard correctly and she gave Sam and Castiel some crazy eyebrows.

"Sorry, you understand that I do watch the show, right?" She asked rhetorically, with a doubtful expression. When he rolled his eyes, she let out a frustrated huff. "Dean, think about this! He's a demon! He lies! Look, I know you have no reason in the world to trust me but you've got to; just think about it. Even IF it is demons that have Jack, don't you think it's possible that the prisoner demon you're threatening to torture might give you a false lead? Especially if he's naive enough to think he'll be able to escape and doesn't want to get in trouble with his bosses? C'mon, this is not-the-sharpest-tack-Tim we're talking about!"

Sam and Castiel had agreeably expressions but Dean's was stubbornly disagreeable, though she could tell he knew she was right. The thought of them going to Montana gave her a dreadful, suffocating feeling, like death.

So, she tried one more tactic and held her hands up in prayer, "Dean please, I don't know what and I don't know how I know, but I know in my gut that if you go to Montana, something terrible will happen. And Jack's not there, I promise you." She dropped all the bullshit and gave him her best seriously-just-listen-to-me face but Dean still wasn't budging.

"Christ, I knew you were stubborn but this is ridiculous, ugh. OK, fine!" She threw her hands up and turned on her heel, heading toward the dungeon.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asked quickly.

"Obviously I didn't hurt his feelings badly enough the first time, so I'm going to go have another chat with Cleetus and get him to admit that he's a liar, liar, pant-"

"Er-you... can't do that," Sam cut her off apologetically.

"Sam, he's handcuffed to a chair. I appreciate the concern but-"

"He means you really can't," Dean added. George looked toward him annoyed and Dean continued, "After he gave us everything we needed we pretty much, chk," he finished, slicing a finger across his throat in demonstration. When she looked like she wanted to strangle him, he shrugged and offered, "RIP Cleetus."

George rolled her eyes in exasperation, "But he was lying! Don't you confirm the information before you cut off the source?! Oh my god, why am I even asking? You're the Winchesters, of course you don't." The three of men looked between each other guiltily and she placed her hand on her hip, "What if that was just an act and Tim saw an opportunity. Feeding you some bullshit so that you couldn't actually find Jack? Or, maybe Tim has nothing to do with Jack at all, and sending you to Montana is just a good old fashioned ambush?!" She paused for a moment and gave a surprised, appreciative nod, "Hmm, maybe I underestimated ole' Cleetus a bit. Could have been smarter than I thought."

"She does have a point, Dean. The chances that he was lying are incredibly high," Cas conceded slightly, giving Dean a questioning look. "We have no proof that his lead is any better than hers. Demon's lie."

"Damnit, alright, fine," Dean said, sighing angrily. "Sam and I will go to Oregon to look for Jack; Cas, check out Butte-carefully, strictly recon, do not engage-and call us if you find any trace of him." He shot a quick warning look at George. "We'll turn around and come right to you. Sound like a plan? Great, let's go."

"Wait, no! Don't send him to Butte! Didn't you hear me? If it's an ambush, he'll get his ass kicked!"

"Hey." Cas looked hurt and George softened her face at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry Castiel. You're a total badass when the plot calls for it, otherwise, getting beat up is just kind of your MO." Ignoring the confused look on the angel's face, She turned back to Dean, "and besides you need Castiel in Oregon, Dean. I've seen it!"

"Oh? I thought you hadn't 'seen this episode yet'?" Dean said sarcastically.

"I-I… Well, OK, I haven't, but I've seen the three of you and Jack all together for this fight. Just trust me, you need him there. What if Jack is hurt when you find him? Cas can heal him, right?" She made a questioning face to Castiel; at the moment she couldn't remember the extent of his powers on the show and he was always losing one or another for whatever reason, anyway. But if she was right, she figured that even if Dean wouldn't trust her gut, he might trust that having a healing angel on their journey would be a benefit. "Is that a power you have? I feel like I've seen you do that."

"She's right, Dean. I can heal him if we find him injured," Cas offered her helpfully and she shot him a grateful expression, actually looking him in the eyes for the first time, albeit fleetingly.

"Have you seen Jack get hurt?" Sam asked her, trying to help, too. He remained a neutral party at this point, but if he was honest with himself, he believed her. Maybe a little too much, which is why he was trying to stay impartial. If he was being blinded by his confusing memories and the undeniable-yet-currently-being-denied feelings he was developing for her and ended up wrong, Jack could be killed.

"Uh… I mean, no… not definitively, but it's pretty standard for the show. You're all constantly getting hurt during fights and when it's close to a season finale the danger factor is skyhigh for anyone who isn't you two…" After motioning to the brothers, she trailed off, afraid that this reasoning was going to hurt her more than help her.

Sam gave her a long, contemplative look before finally offering, "I can have a small team go check out Butte. Maybe Garth can join? Last time I talked to him he was near there."

Dean's teeth and fists were clenched as he took a deep, exaggerated breath, "Fine. We'll send a group to Butte and call Garth from the road-No arguments!" He held up his hand to her as she opened her mouth to speak. "The three of us are going to Oregon, just as you demand, but I'm not leaving anything to chance on some alien's hunch. Garth can handle himself."

She made an indignant face at him-she wasn't an alien, she was from an alternate reality! Get it right. But, while she was afraid of someone getting hurt in the obvious trap that had been set for them in Montana, the thought of Garth going instead didn't give her the same full-body fear shudder. So, she figured she'd take what she could get and not push the issue further. Besides, she knew Dean wasn't going to be happy about her next move and she had to pick her battles.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #swearing #humor #eventual smut #eventual relationship #slow burn #eventual dean winchester x oc #eventual dean winchester x castiel #bi dean

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whump-it · 4 years

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Augine And Callum; Chapter 2

Here it is! The second installment of the AU I’m working on in collaboration with @broken-horn, featuring their OC Augine. Augine rescues Callum from Hayden. Callum is scared and confused.

Tagging @pepperonyscience . Please let me know if you want to be added!

CW talk of past abuse, dehumanising, conditioning, past broken bones mentioned.

Callum clutched on to his teddy tightly, sitting rigid in the front passenger seat of the car. Augine had put the radio on to an innocuous talk show and turned the volume down low while she drove him further and further away from his Master. He shook his head just a tiny amount, trying to clear the thought of Master Hayden. He had been sold by him. Sold and bought and taken away. It was too much to think about.

Too big. Too open. Too confusing.

His mind sought out something to focus on and settled, butterfly delicate, upon the twitch of his muscles which he couldn't stop, driven by nervous energy. He sat and shook and waited, looking down at his teddy until the car slowed and finally stopped.

Callum got out of the car after Augine did so, too afraid to make anything close to the first move. As he shuffled in to the house that she had brought him to, Callum glanced nervously around himself, seeing doors and corners. He tried to take notice. He tried to concentrate and listen. But he was so tired and hungry and aching. So lost.

"...be back in just a moment."

Callum looked up, suddenly aware that he was being spoken to. Horrified, he twisted at his teddy, pulling at it.

"I'm sorry... I'm umm I'm I'm I'm...so... I'm sorry..." his words trailed off with a flinch and a jump as Augine reached out to place her hand on his arm gently, silencing him. He stopped and waited for the hurting to begin.

"I was just telling you that you should sit there," she pointed at a big, puffy beanbag. "And I'm going to go and bring us something to eat and drink. I think you can do that, yes?"

With his head bowed, he looked at her slightly. Shy and unsure. Afraid. But he nodded just enough that she smiled.

"Thank you Callum," Augine said. "Now, sit down and keep hold of your teddy. I think that makes you feel better? Am I right?"

Callum chanced another smile and took a little step towards the beanbag, backwards and still looking at Augine. Still waiting to have make the mistake that would hurt him. Hesitantly he reached a hand behind to feel for the beanbag, automatically feeling better when his hand was behind his back. He reached back with his other hand too, teddy still held tight, and joined his hands together while he sat. Augine watched him with a small smile, keeping her face calm and neutral and just on the edge of happy, something to keep him calm.

"Thank you miss," he said, as soon as his bottom touched the beanbag. Augine smiled a little wider and let his formal address of her slide for the moment.

"Right," she said a little more briskly now that she could see that he was a little more comfortable. "I will be back with you very soon. And Callum," she looked at him directly. "You're doing brilliantly."

With that, she left the room and Callum watched her go. He let his gaze wander around the room, looking for anything that might hurt. He brought his hands back to his lap and flinched when the house made a noise. Just a noise. Just a settling sort of noise. The mind that might happen with a little gust of wind. He strained his hearing to try to find where Augine was in the house. He didn't know what was allowed and what wasn't. He wanted to have asked to follow her. He wasn't sure if he missed Master Hayden or not. He was still caught up in a tangle of confused thoughts when Augine came back, carrying a tray which she put on the coffee table in front of him.

"Here, have this," she said. Callum could feel his mouth watering at the sandwiches. "You look like you need it." The tea on the tray smelled the same as the brew he'd been instructed to make at Master Hayden's house. He couldn't even begin to think how that made him feel when he was so hungry.

Augine sat down near him and poured herself some tea, quietly sipping from her own cup.

Callum looked at the food. The drink. He looked at Augine and gripped on to his teddy harder, trying not to shake. Trying not to cry. He didn't know why he'd been taken away from his Master and he didn't think that he could ask. But orders were something he could work with. Willing himself to let go of the comfort of his teddy's fur, he tucked it between his knees and reached out for a sandwich. He picked the smallest one and made certain to use his manners.

"Thank thank ... umm... thank you for giving me food and drink. It's...umm... it's very kind of you to think of me and feeding me." Just quickly he risked a glance up at her. A smile to test the waters and then braced himself, remembering how he had smiled when his Master had brought him back. Remembering how badly that had ended.

"You're welcome, Callum. I know all this is confusing." She spoke kindly, gently smiling back, her thoughts playing out a different story. She looked quickly at Callum's left arm, a slight kink in it thanks to a break. And she didn't have to second guess who was the cause of both the break and the poor setting of it. She took a moment to allow a series of cuss words to resonate in her thoughts, all directed at Hayden. She knew that the arm needed fixing, but one thing at a time was going to be the only way that she could approach Callum. He was clearly terrified enough as it was already.

Augine carried on drinking and picked up a sandwich to join Callum with eating, not wanting him to have to feel like he was doing so on command. She wanted him to feel like they were eating together. Once they had both finished, Augine stood and brushed a few crumbs off her thighs.

"I'm going now to fetch you something to wear," she said evenly and gently. "You can stay right there." Without waiting for a reply, she stepped out for a moment. When she returned, she held a blue t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants out to Callum. He looked up at her, his sandwich gone but the knawing emptiness in his stomach still present.

"It's...umm...I. Thank you." Callum stuttered out, not making a move, scared of a trick. He watched Augine and wished that she would speak but she didn't. He craved rules or boundaries or anything that might tell him what he should do, and the void made his eyes tear up and water. "Should I...umm... thank you."

Reaching out, he took the clothes and turned away, cringing at how exposed his back was as he pulled the tshirt on, shifting his teddy from hand to hand while he worked, then holding it between his teeth to pull in the sweatpants.

"I like blue," he whispered, braving another small smile. Waiting for the punishment. The atonement. The shame. "Umm...I haven't been thinking. But I have something. Umm... maybe a question?"

Augine watched him keep a constant hold on the teddy without surprise. In her experience, most of the people she had rescued in the past had something they relied on. Something to cling to when they were denied comfort elsewhere.

"Go ahead and ask, Callum," she said with a slight nod, pleased that he had managed to bring up the possibility of a question on his own. It was, she hoped, a small sign that he would manage to find himself successfully.

Callum blinked a few times and tried to steady his breathing. It was hard. It was so hard. This part was what he'd been dreading. This was the part that would surely earn him shame and punishment. He pushed through, almost relieved that once he finally got this out he could settle into some kind of familiarity. Some kind of atonement.

"Umm...I'm so sorry. I don't...I promise I'm not thinking. I'm not. It's just I want to do my best and be good and I don't know how best to... how to..." He shivered and flinched at the sound of his own voice. When he spoke again it was almost too quiet to hear. "What are the rules please?"

Augine wasn't surprised by his words, or his question.

"The only rules here are you have access to the whole house, mistakes are understood, and no lying," she smiled gently, murmuring softly, kindly to him. "You don't have to be perfect for me. You just have to be you."

"I never lie," Callum said in a hurry. "I promise I never do that. I won't lie." He sat back down carefully and looked at the food that was left. A couple of sandwiches and some drink. His stomach rumbled and he pressed his teddy over it to dull the sound. He knew that being hungry was normal for him, but showing it was another matter. That was a mistake. That was ingratitude. That was shameful.

He fought his muscles. He didn't want to shake but it was happening anyway.

Don't lie. Don't lie. Never lie. Even when it was going to hurt. Even when it was going to mean a punishment. He'd promised her. He knew it from Master Hayden. He'd promised everyone.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, bending at the waist and curling in on himself. "I'm so... I'm I'm... I'm hungry and I'm so sorry. I don't... the rules are so open. They feel so big. I'm sorry." He stayed hunched over and waited, breathing heavy. Waited to be hurt.

"It's okay to be hungry, Callum." She stepped over and sat on the floor next to him, not yet reaching to touch him. "It's okay to be scared, too. I know this is different," she said gently, kindly, almost motherly. She stayed still, expression as soft as her voice. "Thank you for telling me. You can have the other sandwiches if you want."

He shook and sniffed, trying not to cry. Crying had never done him any favours in the past. He shook his head.

"I don't know how to be...I don't know me." He looked up suddenly, wide eyed. There had to be an answer to this and if he could phrase it correctly then maybe he could be better. "You could improve me," he said. "I can be better I know I can. But... the rules... they're. I'm scared of them."

He looked down at the floor again. When he spoke, it was almost so quiet as to not be heard.

"I'm scared."

"I can help you learn yourself," Augine said softly. "And it's okay to be scared of the rules." She paused and thought for a moment. Thought of what Hayden had done and tried to work a way around it that would make Callum comfortable but not make him think that this situation would be a replica of what he'd already been through. "If you want, I can add one or two more to help close that space a bit so they're more comfortable, until you are okay with it being more open."

Augine found herself wanting to give something immediately back to Callum to show him how impressed she was by his willingness to tell her how he felt about the situation, given what she knew of Hayden's rules and expectations. She knew how much courage that must have needed.

He could hear her tone of voice almost more than the words. They weren't what was really reaching him. He uncurled himself just a little. Just enough to look at her where she was sat in front of him

On the floor.

He gasped quietly. Everything was wrong. That was wrong. That was his place.

Sliding from the seat, he knelt before her.

"Please give me rules. Please. I can be good with rules and I'm I'm...umm... I'm. Well I'm slow and I'm stupid but I can learn and I'll get better at being hurt."

He couldn't hold the tears back anymore. They tripped their way down his cheeks silently. He'd learnt to cry silently the hard way.

She sighed at him, but even that was gentle as she gently pulled him close and into an embrace.

"Callum.. I'm not going to hurt you," she thought for a moment, then nodded. "Lights out at eleven. I'll show you in a bit where your room is, and you sleep in there. That and a warm shower each day is required. Does that help?"

He stiffened at the touch and stayed very still. Staying still usually resulted in less pain and despite what she was telling him, he couldn't find a way to believe it. Hurt was what happened. Hurt was all he was good for. All he was needed for. All he existed for. A room was something that he could cope with. He'd had his basement and now he would have a room. That would work. He nodded a little and tried to work his mind around the rest. Don't lie. He had known that from his Master and she had told him the same. Gratitude must always be given and he let the two ideas rub along each other like a fault line. Friction. The earthquake it caused made him shudder. Lights out was bad. Awful. But it couldn't be a lie if he agreed to lights out when he had his own room could it?

He wished that his fault lines could build mountains instead of destroying themselves for once.

Gratitude first.

"Th... thank you. Umm... thank you."

He stayed still until she was ready to let him go, stayed where his new owner clearly wanted him to be. She slowly, lightly, carefully rubbed her hands over his shoulders, not pushing enough to dislodge any knots and potentially hurt him, and move any progress so far back she couldn't see it anymore, but just enough to slowly, slowly ease his shoulders into relaxing just a little. He waited. And waited. He waited for the touch to change. For it to hurt. To break and damage.

But it didn't.

It stayed even and firm enough to settle his breathing into something close enough to relaxed to pass for it. Eventually his shoulders drooped, and his neck stopped feeling strained. And at that point, he felt Augine slowly pull away from him. He immediately missed the touch. He had forgotten what a kind touch felt like. When he eventually looked up, almost dozey and drugged on the kindness that she had showed to him so far, he saw that she was standing again. He hurried to get to his feet, fighting through the woozy haze, needing to be on his feet next to his new owner.

"Come with me," she said. Augine led him to where his room would be. It was already set up, with fleece blankets on the bed and a wardrobe stocked with comfortable clothing. "This is your room, alright?" She stepped aside so he could enter on his own terms. He looked through the doorway, then back at Augine. It looked comfortable and warm and the complete opposite of everything he'd been allowed to have. He didn't have the thoughts that he needed to know what this meant.

"This is for me?" Callum asked quietly and hesitantly, craning his neck and wringing his teddy in his hands. "Thank you very much for...umm... it's very nice." He stepped over the threshold and turned back to look at her, trying a small smile again and receiving one in return.

When she wished him a good night and reached in to turn his light off he started to tremble again.

When she shut the door he stayed rooted to the spot, shivering and breathing unevenly again.

#au Collection box #au Collection Programme #oc callum #oc callum morrow #oc augine #tw dehumanisation #tw dehumanization #tw conditioning #whump #whump community #caretaking #caretaker #callum needs comfort #comfort #comforting caretaker #tw broken bones #callums teddy #whumpee

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

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EPISODE 4: MILLY

Writing Blog URL(s): @bumblebeenct

Name: Milly

Age: 18

Nationality: Welsh

Languages: English

Star Sign: Capricorn

MBTI: ISFP-T

What fandom(s) do you write for?

I write for NCT, but I have written for Harry Potter in the past

When did you post your first piece?

Around the empathy era I’m pretty sure, 2018? I used to do moodboards only but I was inspired by other writers to give it a go

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?

I find that I stick to the fluff/angst tropes because they’re easier to formulate because I can relate myself to the scenario more. I also find that its also more interesting to write angst because there's complications to a story that take longer to form and you have to really think about the different emotions the characters are feeling.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?

I write x reader mostly, but at some point in the future I’m thinking of writing an OC purely because the concept I want to focus on has a particular emphasis on name and I don’t think it would work with y/n

Why did you start writing on Tumblr?

I used to use Wattpad but it was very difficult to promote myself and I struggled to meet anyone through it. On tumblr it was much easier to orientate and the community was so much nicer.

What inspires you to write?

My mutuals! And other writers on tumblr, everyone is so supportive and kind it’s amazing. Also the feedback I sometimes get from readers, it makes me really happy whenever I get a comment or someone interacts with a piece I enjoyed writing, or alternatively when someone supports a fic I wasn’t confident in as it really boosts my confidence :)

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?

School/ College aus because they’re very familiar and I am confident in getting the tropes and ideas right. But I also like works inspired by movies or songs because there’s so much to work from and it’s nice to see where you can take the plot and lyrics in your own story.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?

That writing is for everyone, honestly at the end of the day I’m just a kid in my room writing stories about artists I’m a really big fan of. If you want to write you can, and you don’t have to necessarily be a “big” blog or writer to do it.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?

Take a break, that’s my first port of call - usually in the method of food or I look at the inspiration material again, I listen to the song, read the lyrics, consult my friends and mutuals for help. It’s always good to be able to put something down to start again later when you’re struck with inspiration

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?

My favourite personally at the moment (since one I really like is currently, as of answering this question, unpublished) is ‘Remember Me’ purely because it was the work I was the most passionate about writing and it really let me explore a new field of writing, since a lot of my stuff had been fluff before. My most successful in terms of notes is my Mark one shot ‘Sugar and Spice’ and I’m very proud of it.

Who is your favorite person to write about?

Park Jisung, my ult bias, I have to convince myself to write for other members sometimes as I often resist the urge to be a Jisung blog. However I have been enjoying writing for Mark and Hendery recently, as my other NCT biases

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?

To a certain extent yes, it really depends on the writer. For many fanfiction stories, including ones we may label “cliche” the only difference is who it’s about, there are countless amazing fics I’ve read which I would assume could be made into a novel, the only thing making it fanfiction being the characters themselves.

What do you think makes a good story?

Feeling! There’s nothing that really constitutes a “good story” as it’s all subjective, but if you can read a story and feel what the characters feel, or even just see the emotions the writer is trying to portray then it’s definitely a good story. I’ve cried while reading most of, if not all my favourite stories.

What is your writing process like?

I plan first in a little notebook so I don’t forget any of my ideas or plans and then I try to churn it out whenever I have access to my computer, my speaker and a comfortable blanket. I like to “get in the zone” and then write as much as I possibly can. I usually think of ideas as I write so the notebook helps me put them in order and make sure I don’t get too ahead of myself.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?

I have thought about it and honestly, I’m not sure. My fics are not series’ and they’re all very short - most of them under 4k so I’d have to turn the idea into a full length thing you know? But I have thought about doing the opposite with a very old original story of mine I’ve otherwise given up on but still holds a special place in my heart.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?

I am a sucker for the enemies to lovers trope mainly because the character development in these stories can be so much more interesting and complex. On the other hand I’m not fond of “yandere” type fics, however I have read several well written ones which I cannot speak against because they were actually really good.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?

I’d say a lot, in terms of how much I write feedback means a lot to me - it’s also nice to hear what people think of things you’ve written because it’s a different view from your own and sometimes can boost confidence. I am also open to constructive criticism if any writers have any tips or suggestions for future works I’m always open to listen.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?

When I see anyone interacting with my work it’s really rewarding and I love when people reblog with custom tags because it lets me know that people actually like what I do and to me, that’s a success.

Favorite color: Purple

Favorite food: Pasta

Favorite movie: Heathers (1988)

Favorite ice cream flavor: Cookie Dough

Favorite animal: I would say bees, but I don’t think that counts so I’ll say dogs

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?

Coffee, either black or a really fancy one with frothy milk

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)

I’d love to be a singer honestly, but at the moment I’m working towards education I hope one day to be a lecturer

Go-to karaoke song

Best Part by Daniel Caesar or Escape (the pina colada song) by Robert Holmes because it’s funny

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?

Stopping time because there’s so much you can do - except the question is, would I continue to age even if time has stopped?

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?

My mind goes to two extremes, I think either ancient Greece because why not and the 1950’s purely for fashion and music.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?

No, but I think if I could restart specific moments I would. There are so many good moments but some things you don’t want to relive even if you can change the outcome.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?

100 chicken sized horses, I’d be terrified of a horse sized chicken it would probably be able to eat me and I’m not about that life, tiny horses I can deal with. Kill them with Kindness or whatever haha.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?

A mix of quiet teachers pet and loud side character friend. The duality kills me, I can be shouting with my friends one minute but whispering the minute the teacher asks me a question.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?

I’d like to, I think some are really cool and it would be amazing to live among them, but also some are dangerous, but I would love to see or meet some creatures. Imagine living with dragons man that would be epic.

What are some of your favorite hobbies and how did you get into them?

I really like reading, courtesy of Harry Potter, but I also enjoy singing and playing the piano which I started doing more often in secondary school when my piano teacher suggested I started to sing as well :)

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?

I did Karate for about 10/11 years, and I’m a black belt *insert awkward smile here*

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?

A lot of the time yes, there is a stigma around fanfiction and often paints us in a negative light but we just happen to be a community of creative fans who want to share and support the people we write about. But I can see where the stigma comes from, sometimes it can be taken a bit far and I am aware that some things make the artists themselves uncomfortable. I think if people who judge fanfiction are referring to it as a single idea it becomes unfair because it is all different, but I also think that writers of fanfiction themselves have to make sure they don’t cross any boundaries when writing that could make readers or the artist (if they ever happened to stumble across your work) uncomfortable.

Do you think art can be a medium for change?

Yes in some ways of course. Art is not only a way to express what the creator themselves is feeling but it is also a way to teach others about issues, prejudices and ideals. For literature specifically it allows you into the shoes of another person you may not have understood before, in art pieces there’s a clear message and encourages people to educate themselves on certain issues which in turn makes room for change.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?

Sometimes if i’ve been suggested or requested to write something because it isn’t an idea that comes for me but mainly if I am aware that someone is waiting for a fic or someone has said they’re anticipating it I feel like I’m writing for others, but I don’t particularly mind it because it almost encourages me to write to a better standard.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?

Not particularly, I'm often as clear as I can be when portraying meaning, or I will straight up say it in a different thread or to different people because I can’t keep secrets and I’m a sucker for a spoiler. Although I am constantly worried about the way I come off in messages and things like that - I am a terrible overthinker.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?

A few of my closest friends and other kpop stans I am friends with irl are aware of my blog and support me as much as they can with what little information I give them. I think only one of my irls has my url because she reads and I send her my binge reviews when I do them.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?

Thank you so much, honestly it’s cheesy but without them I don’t know where my blog would be. The amount of them surprises me everyday and I don’t think I believe it half the time. Also if anyone ever needs help or support or just wants a chat I’m open, its 100% likely that if you interact with me or my posts on the regular then I will recognise you when you come say hi, I’m not that scary I promise.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?

Just do it! It’s better to get your stuff out there and circulating to get a better idea of what people like and where your strong suit is, the more you put out the more you grow. But if you’re scared, talk to other creators, we’re always open to help and we can let you know what to do, it was something that helped me out :)

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?

When I first started there was a lot of struggle with me trying to figure out my style and what I wanted to do, and it was a learning curve of what can I do, what should I avoid and who am I doing this for. Sometimes when I’m really down I will question why I do it, but I never regret it because it has allowed me to make some wonderful friends and be exposed to some amazing creations and get more into something I’ve always liked doing, writing.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?

I don’t want this to be too long, but I feel like it could be. I’ve met so many wonderful people and I love all of them so much, but in terms of being formative and supportive these are some of the people I talk to the most. @renjunwrites - I am a huge fan of Denise and to even be able to be in conversation with her about the stuff she writes is mindblowing to me, @nanasarea - nana was one of the first people I spoke to (before I joined discord) and was really accepting of my antics from day one. @glossyjaems - me and Louna have become very close recently and I can’t wait for our project to launch, keep an eye out for that. @mjlkau Anie is really one of the biggest supporters I have, always willing to read what I send her and give me support and love. There’s so many more people I’d love to mention but this would go on forever, to anyone ever involved in my writing process I’m thinking of you as I write this and I love you all (I feel really bad not talking about every single one omg).

Ending thoughts:

“We’ll be alright, I want to try again” - Try Again d.ear (ft. Jaehyun) because this is something I hold close, ‘try again, we’ll all be alright in the end’

BONUS: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

Interested in your very own episode of The Sunny Show? Find out how to apply here.

#@bumblebeenct #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 4 #nct #harry potter

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shirokodomo · 4 years

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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

THE MUSE - Hakudoshi (Inuyasha)

THE MUN - Eleanor / Ellie / El

Fill out & repost! This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is: Canon / OC / AU / Canon-divergent / Fandomless.

It's a mix of these three, the character itself is canon but I have a bunch of AUs and Canon Divergents verses although I also write him within his Canon Verse

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO.

I am not sure how the fandom views him in this regard, while he is one of the strongest incarnations, he isn't even on the level of either Inuyasha or Sesshomaru. So, kinda I guess?

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.

To the story as a whole no, but he was relevant during a few arcs because of his connection to Naraku and the works he was sent to do.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?

Depends on the characters he is interacting with. With the main group (Inu & Co.) and with the other incarnations with whom he has interacted in canon material (Kanna, Kagura, The Infant) I pretty much stick it to canon as much as I can, though I have my own interpretation of his character in certain stuff.

But there are characters he never met or barely interacted with in canon (Koga, Kikyo, Sesshomaru, etc) so in these I go overboard and mostly "ignore" canon, and let my own imagination interpret how their interactions would go, while trying to keep him as the villain he is but without making the interactions short or boring.

Then I have a bunch of AUs and Canon Divergent verses which I love to dive in and allows me to stray away from canon for the most part (i.e: he doesn't die, he doesn't betray Naraku, etc). Two of my favorite Canon Divergent threads are those where he ends up traveling with Sesshomaru after escaping from Naraku or the one where a mother-son bond slowly forms between him and Kikyo.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.

He is a child and a child can still change his personality a lot even if they started out as a villain.

He is very intelligent, knows how to take precautions if/when things go wrong. In my opinion that makes him a good ally as much as it makes him a dangerous antagonist.

Canon didn't explore many sides of him and I'm more than willing to do that so plotting with me can become fun, even if some ideas might sound weird.

Although he was initially one of Naraku's most loyal incarnations and followed his orders, he can be self-serving (and in my eyes that's a good and bad thing) and can choose to take a different path from the initial plan even if that goes against his creator's goal and ends up benefiting the "good guys"

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

He is a villain and villains can be a little hard to handle and to create long threads with, without making it sound repetitive.

He can be quite creepy and perhaps a little annoying.

He has no qualms in his actions, doesn't possess empathy, doesn't care how many people were hurt or killed by his actions.

He is manipulative, although not as much as his creator, and more than capable of betrayal. Trusting him can be quite difficult especially after everything he did.

What inspired you to RP your muse?

Hakudoshi was always my favorite in the entire series, don't ask why, he just was, for some reason I was always drawn to him everytime he was on screen. His personality though sometimes difficult to portray can be interesting to explore, especially when aside from the fact that he is evil, there weren't any other sides of him shown which leaves a bunch of open doors for interpretation.

What keeps your inspiration going?

Dreams, random ideas and of course the other roleplayers I have interacted with so far.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

While I am aware that I have choose to portray a villain, I enjoy to try and step a bit out of the typical "I hate you and you hate me" troop when it comes to interactions with the "good guys", not saying that we shouldn't portray that, we definitely SHOULD because he has hurt many people and I don't expect other Muses to suddenly get along with mine but all I want is to try and step a bit more out of it so that we can create an interesting and enjoyable thread together.

An example I like to use for this, within the canon verse, is two threads I currently have with two different Inuyasha muses, in which we created an interesting set up for Inuyasha and Hakudoshi to interact, one that keeps the threads on-going smoothly, while keeping the obvious fact neither can stand the other because that's how their relationship is.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.

Depends on my mood and depends on the thread. There are many times I wonder if I'm making him "evil enough" or if I'm making him OOC.

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO.

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. But I am thinking of doing a prompt thing once a month for that! To help me with my writing skills.

Do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.

There are times I doubt it, other times I'm good with it.

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO.

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?

I'm open to constructive criticism all the time.

Being plain rude however it's a no for me.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

I LOVE getting asks, they help me not just build my portrayal of the Muse but also provides me with many headcanon ideas.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

As I wrote above there are times I doubt my portrayal and also I am open to constructive criticism, so if someone disagrees with my portrayal I am more than open to receive tips on how I could get better.

Disagreeing with my portrayal just to be plain rude though, I'll pass. I don't want drama and I've created this RP blog to have fun and to escape a little from the problems in real life.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

Eh I'm fine with it? Hakudoshi is a villain and a secondary character, I won't expect everyone to like him and I respect that. I just ask others to equally respect my liking for this character.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

Yes I am, again I'm full open to constructive criticism. While I feel quite comfortable with my English, it's not my first language so errors are bound to happen.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?

I am very shy and not exactly a big social butterfly, however I do like to talk to others that love the series/characters/etc as much as I do so DMs and Discord are open for that stuff too, not just plotting!

Tagged by: No one, found this on a random blog in the search

Tagging: @silverhanyou @windcarnation @konosesshomaru and anyone else who feels like doing this.

#dash meme #about the muse #about hakudoshi #about mun #long post

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is-that-another-soulmate-au · 4 years

Text

Wuko/Korrasami/OC insert soulmate eye color change AU

@mypureessence I'm gonna tag you because I know you like my Lee 😌

"Hey Lee! You did great out there tonight!" Lee let out a huff when she heard Tenko call to her. Spinning on her heel she turned to face him. "Not to mention this new over the shoulder dress! You were absolutely stunning, here's your pay for the night"

She took the cash handed to her and gave him a small sigh "thanks Tenko, say, did I get any tips?"

"Why? You building some new explosion on the outskirts?" Tenko gave a big grin

"Perhaps" she folded her arms

"You know Lee, you being a nonbender and all, I dont think you should keep messing with those explosions"

"A nonbender? Really you think I'm incapable of protecting myself against my own machines?" She huffed "whatever, did I get any tips or not?"

"You sure did, but its not alot" he handed her a small amount of cash compared to her pay.

"Hey, its better than nothing, alright, I'm getting changed, I'll see you next week alright?"

"You better be here, people love hearing a white fox sing"

Groaning she stormed off to her small dressing room where she changed out of the God awful tight dress and slip into more comfortable clothes. Fixing her hair up she paused, looking in the mirror at her own eyes, both a pale green. Wonder which parent that came from. She huffed and pushed the last Bobby pin in and left.

It was already getting dark so she had to hury. She clung to the flyer she had already deciphered a while ago, she was going to infiltrate the equalists tonight. She hopped on her bike and sped off. Not too long after she managed to find the spot and parked her bike before heading down the alleyway.

"Invitation?"

"Here" she held out the flyer.

"Come on in, the revelation is upon us my sister"

She nodded and stepped inside, immediately setting to work scouting the building for any way to halt the performance that Amon was about to do. She'd seen it before, only a week ago when she caught a scene outside her warehouse on the outskirts. She needed to stop this.

"To take a person's bending away... permanently" she heard the man say, glancing up she watched as four people were dragged onto stage. The first was a leader of a gang.

"See those machines" she heard a man whisper by chance as she passed him and a girl "their run by steam, get some escaping and you could whip up some cover while I free Bolin"

"Works for me"

"Me too." Lee whispered and grabbed hold of the girls wrist "Follow me, I can help" the girl gave a bit of hesitation but nodded and wished her friend good luck.

Leading the girl to the steam pipes she took hold of a valve "we need to turn these to the right as far as possible to let the steam escape"

Once they did that the steam started to escape but only a little "its not enough" the girl said in frustration

"Hey you!" A man shouted as he walked in

"Great, now we have company" Lee said with an eye twitch but stood up "is there a problem my brother?"

"What are you doing back here?"

"Uh... looking for the bathroom?" The girl said with a cheeky grin. What is she five?

"You wouldn't happen to know where one is my brother?" Lee backed up the excuse with a question in hopes to get him to believe it. But no use. The man attacked. Lee used the help of the girl to get the upperhand and smash the pipes, releasing the steam, which the girl bent with ease out of the room. Causing a panic and gaining them some cover.

The group managed to escape and the duo Lee used as help managed to get this Bolin guy. Fleeing, the girl and Lee ran into Bolin and this other guy taken out by a man with electric sticks.

Of course this girl she thought was just a warebender just used earthbending to get the upperhand and escape. Oh gods, this is the avatar, this is avatar Korra and the fireferrets Mako and Bolin.

"So.. whats your name? Mystery girl?" Bolin said from the jaws of Naga.

"Lee. And youre the fireferrets and avatar, thanks for the help getting rid of that rally."

"Well, uh, Lee, thank you for helping us save Bolin" Mako said with an awkward clearing of his throat.

"No problem, but uhm, I kind of left my bike near the area so I dont exactly have a way to get home.."

"Where is your home?" Bolin piped up

"On the outskirts of the city" Lee shrugged "Im normally not here this late but I had a thing to do y'know"

"Yeah..." Mako said in what seemed to be a cold tone as they managed to get to the pro bending arena "you can crash here for the night and head back home tomorrow"

Lee sighed "yeah, okay, sorry"

Once Korra left with Naga to Air Temple Island Bolin wrapped his arm around Lee's shoulder "sooo, Lee right? Is that short for something?"

"No. It's just Lee." She looked up at Bolin with a concerned expression before pushing him back and checking him over "are you alright? No scratches or bruises? Did you hit your head?"

Mako slowed her by gripping her shoulders and moving them inside "he's fine, quit mother henning him"

"I am not-! Okay, look I just watched him almost lose his bending okay? We barely managed to get out of that in one piece! I mean, you two were almost caught again because of mister zappy sticks!" She ranted while they made their way to the apartment "okay, look, we might not know eachother well, or even at all, but tonight we were a team in taking down that rally okay? So I'm allowed to be worried that a teammate might have gotten hurt!"

"Yeah, sure, teammate" Mako huffed when they made it to their living space.

"Whats your problem?" Lee stood infront of Mako with a irritated expression

"I dont have a problem" Mako said with a small crack in his voice

"Yes. You do. You've been huffy since we managed to escape. Why would you even offer to have me crash for the night if you have a problem with me?" Lee took a step closer and Mako took a step back

"Look, I dont have a problem with you, I just hardly know you okay? I'm letting you stay here to thank you for helping me save my brother, and thats all. I dont even know if I can trust you"

"Well, since you hardly know me, how about you ask some questions okay? That should get the ball rolling" Bolin raised his hand and Lee gave him a fond grin "Bolin sweetie you don't need to raise your hand but go ahead"

"Who are your parents?"

"Dont know, I was put up for adoption before I ever had the capability to remember anything"

"Where do you work?"

"Cold spikes bar as a singer"

"Ooo! You sing?" Bolin grinned

"Yeah, I do. But Im not about to sing for you right now." She folded her arms.

"Aww" Bolin pouted

"Why is your hair white?" Mako finally chipped in a question.

"Oh wow, that's personal"

"And the parents one wasnt?" Mako snipped

"I'm teasing Mako, my hair has always been white, I dont know why it is just like I dont know why my eyes are green or why the sky is blue." Lee gave a shrug

"Why were you at the rally in the first place and what did you plan to do if you didn't bump into us?"

"Well, I planned to blow the place up with some explosives but when I bumped into you guys it was definitely a much better option"

"You... were going to blow up the building?"

"Well yeah, but not with deadly bombs, smoke bombs and stink bombs mostly." She shrugged "Im an explosives expert so I know a thing or two about how to avoid hurting people with my babies, thats why I live on the outskirts, I have a warehouse where I test my new explosives so"

Bolin looked at Mako, then to Lee, then back to Mako "I like her, can we keep her?"

"She's not an animal Bolin you can't just pick her up and say 'can we keep her' like your adopting a pet" Mako scolded "but if she wants to stick around us for a while she can."

"I'd like that, but more than that, I'd like to sleep, so I'm gonna just crash down here, got a spare pillow?"

And so she slept in the corner of the room curled around a pillow and when morning rolled around Pabu woke her up just in time before Mako left for his job and before Bolin left to go train. Sitting up her back cracked a couple times and her stomach gave into a growl "hey Bolin, I dont suppose you could skip a bit of training and come with me to go grab something to eat?"

"Uh, we're kind of... broke" Bolin said with a shy

Lee gave a laugh while standing up "i didnt ask for you to pay, I just asked you to come with. I've got money enough for the both of us to eat my dear Bolin. Now do you think you could skip your training and come with me to grab something to eat?" With a growl escaping his stomach he gave a pair of sad puppy dog eyes and Lee cracked a laugh "alright, lets be off then"

And with that Lee was taking Bolin out to a small noodle shop to eat. While sitting in the booth laughing Bolin leaned on the table "so, is this a... y'know?"

"A what?" Lee said after swallowing a bite. The look on Bolin's face said it all and she gave a sigh "no Bolin, this is not a date. I dont exactly do dating okay? I'm too invested in my work to do dates and partners and the like"

"Well, what if you meet your soulmate?" Bolin pointed out

"Well, if I meet them, then we'll just see what happens. But Bolin, youre not my soulmate, you and I both know that, neither of our eyes changed"

"Yeah, and? Both out eyes are green!"

"Mine are a pale almost seafoam green and yours are a evergreen, it would be pretty obvious" she rested her chin on her hand and huffed "besides, why would you even go for me?"

"You saved me..."

"No, Korra and Mako saved you, I managed to assist in the matter. And while yes I would save you a hundred times over if I had to, I played only a minor role in the rescue mission"

"But you still played a part" Bolin pointed his fork at her "and even though you cant bend, you managed to help both my brother and my best friend save my tail back there.

Lee gave him a grin and a sigh she really is a nonbender to everyone huh? Guess she could stand to use her bending more "I guess your right"

By the time noon rolled around Bolin and Lee were back at the arena in one of the training rooms with Bolin practicing some punches with Lee behind the padding. "So.. Where's Mako work?"

"Uh... I dunno? I just found out he had a job this morning, but he said he should be home around 2 or so, you can ask him then-"

"Nah, I'm home early... why are you practicing with white fox over here?" Mako said with a grin "and I have a date tomorrow night"

"Get outta town!" Lee said excitedly "what's their name?"

"Her name is Asami" Mako said with a blushing face and a goofy grin

"Aw, just from the way you said her name Im sure she's lovely... by any chance did your eyes change?" Lee said with a lean towards him

"No? I mean most people settle without that here, yknow, most people are so busy you won't find your soulmate anytime soon"

"I guess you're right, hm, well, I hope you two enjoy your date"

And enjoy it he did, two days later when Lee visited in the morning to train with Bolin Mako revealed that Asami was Hiroshi Sato's daughter and he was sponsoring the team in the upcoming tournament. Which that news was paired nicely by noon with Korra letting them know there was a Gala being thrown in her name. That night Korra asked Lee to stay the night at Air temple Island just so she knew there was someone by her side.

And Lee was happy to oblige, though she hadn't realized that meant that she was going as Korra's plus one.

#the legend of korra #tlok oc #tlok korra #tlok #tlok asami #tlok mako #tlok bolin #i will die on my endless soulmate au hill #soulmate alternate universe #soulmates

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

Comfort: Werewolf! Shawn x Black OC Witch! AU

a/n: idk why I titled this comfort other than the fact that this just felt so warm to me. In fact I think I use just the word warm like a 100 times in this fic. It just felt right. This is my first OC and I love her with all of my heart so please be kind to her. She’s a little angsty, but she means well I promise. This was so fucking fun to write. I hope you like it. Thank you. k bye.

WARNINGS: Slur usage (n word), sloooooow burn, she’s girth at 19k words,

If you want to buy me a ko-fi you can do so here: I also apparently have a permanent tag list now so let me know if you want that.

There are some perks to being the alpha in town. The general respect from everyone he came in contact with. The support of his pack, and the whole getting to live with his best friends thing. Even the responsibility of protecting the town filled him with pride, even if it was a lot of work. Besides the perks though there were the caveats. There was the whole, random things popping out of the woods every other week to try and kill him. And then the being responsible for a pack of ten other werewolves in their early twenties who were for the most part, especially the guys of the pack, dumb as all hell. Lastly there were the witches.

Pickering’s history was rooted in something straight out of folklore. Centuries ago, the land used to belong to Shawn’s ancestors, but the witches had arrived and put a hex on the land. They would only remove the hex if they were allowed to stay. There had been whole wars between his kind and the witches until his great-great-great-grandfather had come into power. It was he who struck a treaty with the witches in order to prevent any more death. It didn’t mean that prejudice didn’t continue, and most of the town was extremely segregated. You were either a witch or a wolf, or a human and that determined just about everything for you.

Shawn had grown up with that history, so needless to say witches weren’t exactly his best friends in town. However, he also grew up knowing that his destiny was to one day lead the town. His dad raised him on compassion and leadership with the understanding that their town was a town for all, not just one. Even if it was difficult. Especially if it was difficult. His duty as the leader of the town, as the leader of the pack, was to keep the peace. This was certainly easier said than done, but he didn’t exactly have a choice.

That’s how he found himself on their side of town on a friday night, when he could have been at the bar with his friends, or at the gym, or literally doing anything else in the world. It was his responsibility to check in with their elder, a beautiful old black woman who hadn’t aged a day since Shawn had met her as a child except for her hair that turned a stark shade of silver white. She was the most powerful witch that he’d ever come across, and one of the only ones who he had gotten the chance to truly and genuinely know and respect.

He knocked politely on the door, shoes already in hand, because she had a thing about her floors. The door opened and instead of the very tiny woman with a cane he’d been expecting, a much younger woman stood in her place. She had brilliantly dark skin with even darker eyes to match. Her hair was nearly waist length locs with a part down the side that kept a few of them covering the side of her face. He had an innate yearning to move them out of the way so that he could see her better. Her cheekbones were high and prominent on her face and she wore makeup that made her skin almost shimmer in the setting sun. She was maybe the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“You are...not Edna.” He mumbled looking her up and down.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes so quickly it nearly gave him whiplash. His heart squeezed softly in his chest. Wow.

“That the kind of impeccable wit that the town leader is carting around?”

“And who might I ask are you?”

“Girl, stop playing and let that boy in the house!” Edna called from somewhere inside.

He grinned slightly at her stepping into the house and passing slowly around her as she refused to move from the doorway.

Edna was sat in her same chair she always sat in when he came over. It was in her room with all of the glass windows that allowed you to see her garden in the backyard. She sat there a lot, as she was now a little too old to go out every day and tend to it the way that she used to. When he was a kid simply attending his father’s meetings, she used to do something special where she would have him pick a flower that was nowhere near bloom. With a touch of her finger she could make the flower come to life in his tiny hand. He had thought it was the coolest thing ever at the time. She still had him pick flowers every now and again.

“Ms. Edna.” He smiled quickly joining her in the chair across from hers.

“Shawn.” She nodded handing lifting gently to point to the beautiful woman who opened the door for him. “Don’t mind her none. That’s my granddaughter, Athena.”

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He murmured.

“You haven’t. Her mother moved far away from here when she was younger than you are now. Couldn’t handle the way this town treated her. Stopped using magic, ignored her natural born talent.” Edna sighed much to the discomfort of Athena. “Athena here is my successor. That is why I’ve had you come over tonight.”

“Successor?”

“Why yes. Boy, I am old and tired. I can’t keep helping you every time something goes bump in the night. It’s time for me to let go. Athena will have all of my powers and more. She is meant to be the strongest witch this world has ever seen.”

He peered over at her in curiosity. She was leaning her shoulder against the wall, arms still crossed. She wore tattered up jeans and an old band tee. There was this incredibly adorable rose gold hoop ring in her nose. She was gorgeous for sure. But the most powerful witch? He just wasn’t seeing it.

“What can she even do though?”

Athena poked one of her fingers out from underneath her arm and flicked it toward the bookshelf just in time to send one flying towards his head. He rubbed soothingly at his own head where there was sure to be a bump and plopped the book down on the table.

“Wonderful, the next time the town is under attack I’ll be sure to call you so you can book them to death.” He snorted.

Edna and Athena shared a look, Edna shaking her head slowly at her. It wasn’t long before Athena was rolling her eyes and leaving the room with a huff. Shawn mentally added mind reading to her list of capabilities. Oh god, I hope she didn’t hear me call her beautiful.

“I’m sure you two will get along just wonderful.” Edna snorted.

He ran his fingers through his curls and tugged in frustration.

“I don’t think she’s gonna like me much. Are you sure she’s the one?”

“Oh boy, you have no idea.”

He left the meeting with a headache, a little annoyance, and an unfortunate visual of the way the sunset had hit her skin in his mind. Ugh.

***

A few weeks go by before he sees Athena again. It’s a Saturday night and most of the pack is littered around the bar, everyone nursing drinks and having a good time. He was in a really intense game of pool with Brian when the door to the bar opened and everyone sort of froze. It’s hard to describe what a witch smells like. There’s an earthiness to it with a hint of something metallic and something that was just off. Perhaps that's why he didn’t have nearly the reaction of everyone else in the bar, because Athena didn’t smell like that to him. She didn’t smell wrong.

The bar they were at was sort of known as the wolf bar. Some of the humans from town frequented as well, but certainly there had never been a witch in the bar before. Shawn had shared that Edna was training her successor to take over, but no one had met her yet. She was so new to town, and didn’t seem to get out much. She picked a hell of a night to start.

Athena was wearing a jumpsuit that night. It was multi-colored stripes of navy blue, white, and pink, a sharp departure from her ripped jeans. She’d traded her locs for beautiful, tight curls that fell all the way down to her chin. She seemed to get a little prettier every time he saw her. Especially when she was walking up to a bar full of werewolves completely unphased. The bartender that night was Eddy, who happened to have run the bar since his dad’s days. He was more traditional than Shawn liked, and might just be the type to give her trouble.

“Shawn where are you--”

“Hold on a second.” He huffed towards Brian as he headed for the bar.

“Excuse me, I’d like a whiskey on the rocks please?” Athena asked for what must have been at least the second time.

Eddy sneered. “We don’t serve your kind here ma’am.”

“What the entire fuck do you mean, ‘my kind’?!”

“Eddy!” Shawn called alpha mode completely taking over. “Make her a fucking drink, man. Now.”

Athena turned to look at him, her eyes practically sparkling and he almost forgot his own name. She looked absolutely dazzling when she was pissed, and boy was she fucking pissed. Eddy went to make the drink leaving them to just sort of stare at each other. He wasn’t really sure what the right thing was to say here. Yea, we usually don’t serve witches here, but stick with me and I’ll get you in! That sounded fucking terrible even to him.

He placed the drink in front of her and she turned a glare on him so fierce it looked like it should’ve turned him to dust where he stood.

“So, Eddy, is it just witches that aren’t allowed here, or do you frown upon us niggers to?”

Eddy’s face turned bright red at her words. As if to make matters worse she spit into the drink while making eye contact with him and then proceeded to knock it over onto the counter before standing up to leave.

“I’d be careful if I was you Eddy. Wouldn’t want me to get my gang o’ witches to make a soup out of you now would you?”

And then she was gone. And before the door had even closed he was stumbling after her. It wasn’t even conscious. He just needed to.

“Hey! Hey, I’m sorry okay? It’s not even like that. A witch has never even tried to enter that bar since its inception.”

“It’s not like that aye? Whether it’s because I’m black, or because I’m a witch, all you white boys are the same.”

He reaches for her arm and pulls her to a stop. There’s something about her anger towards him that hurts a little bit, makes him uncomfortable. He needs it to stop.

“I do not hate you because you’re a witch. And I don’t hate you because you’re black. I don’t hate you at all, okay? You’re just a little hard to get through to. You have to know that. I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose.”

She tugs out of his grip and puts more distance between the two of them.

He sighed and tried again. “Can I give you a bit of advice? Maybe don’t go terrifying the locals, if you’re gonna take Edna’s place. They need to trust you.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the locals of this place. I hate it here, and if I had any say at all I wouldn’t even be here.” She snorted. “Any other dazzling advice?”

“Why are you so incredibly angry, huh?”

She just snorted and turned her back on him, quickly heading the way that she came. It didn’t matter how beautiful she looked, or how fucking great her cheek bones were. Shawn had come to a new startling conclusion. Athen was absolutely gorgeous. And he couldn’t fucking stand her.

***

It’s Sunday dinner. Every week his mum made him come back to the house for her famous roast, and to catch up with the family. It had been her caveat to him moving in with the pack at eighteen. They’d kept the tradition up ever since. His dad had never been prouder than when Shawn became an alpha, and had loved nothing more than handing over the next generation of pack lineage to him. He had helped him through his own transition phase, had been there for him every step of the way. A part of him had been scared that his dad might resent him for presenting as alpha so early. When the next alpha presents themself, the current one loses some of their speciality. They begin to age again, lose the abudantant strength while still maintaining the average alpha strength. Eventually his father would stop shifting, and he would just get to live out his life his mum. Shawn would continue on as alpha, at the peak of his youth until he has kids, or until a new alpha arose.

“Smells great mum.” He greeted kissing the side of her cheek as he entered the kitchen. “Got anything for me to test?”

She snorted. “No. It’s hard enough feeding you two as it is. Go help dad set the table.”

She makes enough roast for a family double their size and it just might be enough to feed them. There are potatoes and green beans and rolls. The entire house smells just like it used to when he was a kid. Sometimes he misses it. Especially times like this when he’s frustrated with the pack.

“Edna brought over her granddaughter for tea last week.” His mum notes. “What a lovely young woman.”

He snorted into his potatoes. “That’s certainly one way to describe her.”

“Oh, you don’t like the town’s latest addition?” His dad asked.

“Maybe I would if she wasn’t the biggest asshole I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Language Shawn Peter.”

He rolled his eyes. “She hates the town with a burning passion. I tried to be nice to her even, but it’s pointless. She hates werewolves. She hates me. And I’m supposed to work with her just because Edna says so? That’s ridiculous.”

“Well it’s nice to know you don’t feel strongly at all.” His dad joked.

“Seriously dad. She’s the worst. And she’s only going to cause problems. I’ve worked my ass off to keep the peace in this town, and she walked straight into Eddy’s pub, spit into a drink, and threw it all over the bar. She’s only going to mess things up.”

His dad did a hum that he used to do when Shawn was a child. That hum always meant he was in for some sort of lesson. And never one that he was particularly interested in learning.

“I’m surprised Eddy served her a drink at all. Guy’s a real traditionalist prick.”

“Language at the table guys!” His mum reminded them forcefully.

“Sorry.” They said in unison.

Shawn sighed softly and picked at his potatoes.

“He didn’t. He refused to serve her, and I had to make him do it.” He admitted. “She didn’t know if he was being racist or...witchist?”

“Ahhh, so you can imagine how someone in her position might not be too trusting of us wolves then?”

And here comes the lesson.

“I understand that. But, I stuck up for her didn’t I? I even followed her out to make sure she was alright and she practically spit in my face. If she doesn’t like my town she can get the hell out of it.”

His dad only smiled. “I get how protective you are over this town and its people. It’s was makes you such a great alpha. But I raised you to not see this town as just a place for werewolves. We haven’t been that way in a very long time. The harder you try to fight the witches, the harder time you’re going to have. We share the land now, and if she’s not feeling included here as far as I’m concerned, it's your duty to figure out why and fix it.”

“You want me to fix the rift between the werewolves and the witches? A war that has gone on for centuries?”

“What I’m saying is, you might try to be a little more empathetic. I knew her mother well, and I have a feeling her understanding of this town might be rooted in a lot of pain and a lot of hurt. We owe it to her to try and mend some of that.”

Shawn has absolutely no idea what he means by that. And he knows his dad, so he knows he’s not going to get anything else out of him. He’s on his own on this one.

***

Shawn’s in the middle of doing pull ups in the middle of the doorway to his bedroom when Jasmine and Lily come inside. They were twins, two olive toned gymnasts with bigger leg muscles than him and jet black hair they both always kept braided up. They had been on patrol last, so he figured they were just there to catch him up.

“All good?” He asked.

Jasmine poked playfully at his stomach trying to make him falter in his pull ups.

“Well, we caught wind of a witch actually. But it was about twenty miles out into the woods, and it didn’t seem threatening. Do you want us to go back out?”

He shook his head. “I could use a run anyway. I’ll check it out. Let Brian and Zeubin know just in case though.”

He hops down from his bar and tugs off his shoes, wanting as little clothes to have to worry about as possible. He heads for the garage to fully disrobe, ties his sweats to an ankle with the cord he always carried around with him, and shifts before darting out into the woods. The scent isn’t hard to pick up. He catches it about five minutes into his run. Running is definitely his favorite part of the whole wolf thing. He’s faster than his human form could ever imagine. The wind pulls through his fur, and his sight can catch just about anything that might come his way. It’s the most free he ever feels is when he’s just running through the woods. Just as soon as he picks up the scent is just as soon as he realizes that this isn’t just any witch at all.

He’d yet to figure out why Athena didn’t smell off to him. Why she smelt exactly the opposite. Her scent wasn’t sickening, in fact it reeked of warmth and sun, and something a little sweet. He slows down his running as he comes to clearing in the trees. She’s sitting on the ground, her eyes closed. At first he thought she was just meditating or something. And then the wind began to swirl around her. He felt his fur stand up straight on his back and all of a sudden the trees began to shake around the clearing. Her face grew tight with tension and concentration. The ground shook and her body lifted clear off the ground still in the crossed leg position. He watched as the dirt and leaves began to swirl along the ground as if she was creating a tornado with her mind. It reminded him aimlessly of Edna with the flowers but far, far more intense. Who the hell was this girl?

Suddenly her eyes opened and they were piercingly white, almost like lightning. It made sense because just a moment later the sky opened up to a piercing beam of lightning and a loud crack of thunder that hurt his ears. She let out a blood curdling scream before falling to the ground. The earth all around her became still as her body lie limp on the ground. He was shifting and pulling on his pants before he could even think to do anything else.

She doesn’t come to when he picks her up, and there’s a trickle of blood running down her nose. She must have over done it a bit if the scorched earth from her thunderbolt was anything to go off of.

He carries her back to the pack house in a smooth jog, making sure not to startle her too much. She still doesn’t wake up. When he begins to exit the woods, most of the pack is waiting by the sliding glass doors, easily having picked up her scent. No one else seems to think she smells good. It must just be him. Brian and Zeubin being his Betas quickly step to him as he carries her toward the house.

“What the hell is this?” Brian asked in confusion. “ What’s going on?”

“She passed out in the woods. Go find me a blanket or something. Have Lily make some of that freaky herbal tea of hers.”

“But--But she’s a witch?”

His eyes blaze red and he pauses to let Brian cower beneath the intensity of his gaze.

“And we protect all people on our fucking land, so go get the blanket Brian. That’s an order.”

He carries her into the house and skips the couch entirely to head for his bedroom. He gets her into bed and goes to wet a wash cloth while Brian gets another blanket, and Lily makes the tea. The blood under her nose had begun to dry, so he wiped softly at it to make sure she was done bleeding. Her heart rate sounded fine. Her breathing was normal. But she was completely unconscious.

When it was clear she was going to be out for a while he closed the door to his bedroom and immediately pulled all of the pack into the living room for a meeting.

“What’s going on boss, she okay?” Conner, one of the youngest of the pack asked.

Shawn nodded. “I think she’ll be fine. She was practicing some of her magic in the woods when I found her. She just over did it. We’ll let her sleep it off here and then I’ll get her back to Edna’s. In the meantime it seems we need to have a conversation about what our jobs are in this town.”

He peers over at Brian who thumbs guilty at his nose, eyes downcast.

“If I ever hear a word about one of you denying help to anyone because they’re a witch, you’ll answer to me. Got it?” He snapped.

Everyone nods and agrees quickly not wanting to anger him more than he already has been. Shawn hated being the angry alpha; it felt incredibly cliche to him. But sometimes it was the only way to get them to know he meant business.

“I know that we’ve always kept the peace by letting them do their thing over there while we do ours over here, but we’re the protectors of the town dammit. And that means everyone who occupies it. Tell me you all know that? Tell me I can trust each of you to do that.”

They all stare back at him with open and honest eyes nodding. He trusts them with his life just as they trust him with theirs. It’s the only way the pack will work. It’s the only way they can all stay safe.

He dismisses them all after going over patrol orders for the night, and grabs Lily’s tea before heading back to his room.

Athena was lying on the bed still out cold. He set the tea on the bedside table and took the cloth again to press gently to her forehead. This time when he touched her, she came to although not exactly the way that he would have liked. Her eyes burst open and she lurched forward, her hands coming out to defend herself. One second he was pressing the washcloth to her forehead and the next he was flying back into the wall and landing flat on his ass.

“Shit! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

He grunted lowly, ego taking much more of a hit than his actual body did, and got back up. It’s a good thing he healed super quickly. He had a feeling this one was going to get him into nothing but trouble.

“I’m fine. Although if this is how you thank those that help you, I might have left you in the woods.” He snorted.

Her eyes turned to slits, and just like that her resting bitch face was back.

“What do you mean? How the hell did I end up here?”

“My pack found your scent, and I came to check it out. You were doing some weird shit in the sky and then you collapsed out of nowhere. I brought you back here to let you rest.”

“Oh how kind of you.” She sneered already pulling the blanket off of her body.

“I thought it was extremely kind of me actually! Especially considering how big of an asshole you are to me on a daily basis.”

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be on a daily basis if you stopped showing up everywhere I am all the time!”

“And just what do you suppose would have happened to you if I left you there?!” He yelled back at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I would have been fine! I can protect myself and I don’t need your fucking pity, alright?!”

The alpha in him didn’t do particularly well with being challenged. Even the human part of him was pissed. She seemed to have a particular talent for making his fucking blood boil. So he could feel that part of him lurch towards the surface and his eyes turn red as she managed to make him madder than any other person he’d ever met. In that moment he hated her. Let his father’s lesson be damned.

“You are the most stuck up, evil, self-centered witch I have ever met in my life! I should have left you there to electrocute yourself . You think you’re so fucking strong, but you’re just dense! No one can do it alone. Not even you! Has Edna taught you nothing?!”

“You shouldn’t even let her name come out of your filthy mouth! What I learn and what I do has nothing to do with you!”

She makes him angrier than he can even stand. He was a seasoned alpha at that point, had far learned to master his emotions and to reign it in when necessary. But she just kept pushing, kept digging, kept hitting at him. He had never experienced anything like it before. It’s not until he’s growling at her and he feels the familiar stretch in his bones that he realizes he’s on the cusp of shifting. He hadn’t shifted out of sheer anger since he first turned. She drove him absolutely mad.

“Get out! Get the fuck out!”

The lights flicker and her jaw is set on edge. They absolutely despise each other and nothing is ever going to change that. When he yells at her her hands come up in front of her as if she wants to choke him. Instead she wreaks havoc on his room instead. His lamp flies and smashes into the wall in a similar fashion to the way his body had earlier. All of the books on his book shelf fly off and the glass to his sliding door that leads to balcony shatters as she let’s the room have all of her frustrations. She opens the door with her mind and practically glides out of the room.

Zeubin and Brian are there waiting, peering into the room where all of his shit is destroyed. After the speech he’d given about protecting witches, reasonably they’re a bit confused as to how to proceed.

“What do we do?!” Zeubin asked peering anxiously from the hallways and back to Shawn.

“Nothing. Just--Just leave it. I’m going for a run.”

He brushes past his friends not even hesitating to shift the moment he’s outside, sweatpants bedamned. He needed to get her out of his system, to get her smell off of him. She made his blood boil. He was filled with anger and disgust and hurt. And he just had to get away.

***

*Athena’s pov*

She stormed into the house with a fury. Her heart hasn't stopped racing since she left his room. She was absolutely livid. The door slammed so hard it rattled on its hinges. And her grandmother was not having it.

“Girl! Whose door is you slamming?!” Edna called. “Come in here!”

She sighed, feet dragging as she slumped into her room. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to go back to before she had even decided to come to this stupid ass town.

Her grandmother takes one look at her and all of the anger melted from her face. She was an empath, among all her other great powers, and it meant she had an innate ability to feel and understand what she was feeling.

“Child come sit. What is going on with you?”

She crawled into her bed in defeat, head immediately falling into her lap.

“I just can’t do it mama.” She sighed. “I can’t be what you are. I can’t find any love for this place. Not after everything they did to my mom.”

There are tears of pure frustration in her eyes, and Edna reaches to tug up at her chin.

“Now wait just a second. What happened? Start at the beginning.”

“I was in the woods practicing just like you said! And I guess I...I might have over done it. I passed out. And that damn man found me.”

At this, Edna chuckles.

“Mama, it’s not funny!”

“Shawn? Shawn found you?” She asked. “Child, this whole you against the world attitude causes you nothing but strife. Please do explain to me how that man helping you caused you to slam my damn door?”

Athena rolled her eyes. “He called me evil. Self-centered. Dense. I’ve never hated someone so much in my life.”

“Girl… you are fighting the inevitable here. This is your destiny. I know it is scary, and I know it is overwhelming, but that is not going to stop it from happening. Now I want you to cry when you need to, want you to scream with all your might when you need to, but it will not change what you are to become. You are the strongest witch this land has ever seen. You will rise to power, and with that power will only come the responsibility of protecting this town and the people in it. And I am sorry to burst your bubble, but you will have to work with him to do that. It is his destiny just as it is yours. You are meant to be.”

Athena tucked her head softly into her grandmother’s arms as few tears ran down her cheeks.

“They were so awful to her, mama. She used to tell me all these stories of the way they treated her and daddy.How ugly they all were. Why should I take care of any of them. They think the same of me. It’s all the same kind of hate.”

Edna settled her fingers into her hair and detangle the strands mindlessly to soothe her.

“So much can change in a lifetime baby. I know even better than your momma how hateful these folk can be. Nothing they said to her they didn’t say to me. She just got it worse because of your daddy. But, something changed with the Mendes lineage a few centuries ago. They stopped caring about power and cared more about peace. And the result has been that with every generation they preach less and less of that hate you’re talking about. Shawn, bless him, is the kindest one I’ve ever known. Takes after his daddy. When he was a little boy, he used to keep his fangs hidden because he was afraid of scaring people. He was more interested in sitting out in my garden than rough housing. He ain’t got a hateful bone in his body. He just loves this town and he wants to take care of it.”

Athena hates when her grandmother is right. And her grandmother is always right.

“I can’t read him.” She mumbled glumly. “I can feel his emotions, but I can’t tell what they’re stemming from. I can’t tell anything. It’s so frustrating.”

“Hmmm, you could always ask him.”

She snorted. “Sure, mama. After I just went all Carrie on his room, i’m sure he’d love to sit around and braid each other’s hair and talk about boys.”

“Well, I’m sure an apology would go a long way. You’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t so sure she would.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s at the shop when he gets the call. Couple hiking in the woods mauled by a bear. Brian and Zeubin meet him out there. The police have the crime scene taped off, but he’s let under immediately. It takes one whiff to know it’s not a bear. It’s a wolf but he doesn’t recognize the scent, which means everyone is immediately on high alert. The fact that one of them survived is good because it means they can question him. But, it only takes one look at his face when he realizes his wife is gone to know that there’s nothing good about any of this.

His name was Cole Patterson. He and his wife ran one of the general stores in town. They were good people. He grabs tightly at the man’s hand as they wheel his gurney towards the ambulance.

“We’ll find who did it Mr. Patterson. I swear to you. I’ll make it right.”

But his face is so swollen that in conjunction with the tears, he doesn’t get much of an answer. It hurts his heart. And with the sadness comes the innateness to protect, to defend. He just hated seeing others in pain. And it was his job to fix it.

“What do you want us to do?” Zeubin asked.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. “Run along to the house. Fill the others in. I want round the clock patrols starting now and want the perimeter expanded fifty miles. We’ll meet first thing in the morning and figure out our plan of attack. You see anything in the woods and you don’t attack. Go the hell home. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

His betas nod before running off to follow his orders. He sticks around to gather more information from the police in the hopes that it might help the pack. He knows it’s his duty to alert the elders to the situation, so his first stop is to Edna’s, and he’s hoping and praying that the stuck up wicked witch of the west had hopped on her broomstick for the night.

It’s raining, so by the time he gets there and shifts back he’s soaked to the bone. He only has enough time to share what he knows with Edna. He needs to get back to the pack, needs to protect his people. She’s sitting on her porch in her rocking chair waiting for him, so he assumes it will be an easy meeting. How fucking stupid of him.

“So, we’ll be running patrols twenty-four seven. Do you think you could make a protection charm for the part of the woods where the attack happened. If it’s a wolf it’s probably going to return to the same place.”

For a moment she just rocks softly in her chair and peers up at him with those eyes of hers he used to be completely mesmerized by as a kid.

“I won’t be helping you this time, Shawn.” She finally murmured.

“What? What do you mean?”

“This is Athena’s time. That’s why this is happening now. It is her test to see if she can handle her powers.”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“You have got to be kidding me! Edna, I do not have time for your granddaughter to ‘test her powers’ when my people are dying.”

She smiled at him. “They are her people too. She will help you.”

Edna wasn’t one to get angry at. Mostly because she could kick your ass with a wave of her hand. But also just the respect that she had garnered over years and years left him slightly whiny and beggy.

“Listen. She hates me. And that’s fine because now I sort of hate her too. There is no way in hell I can work with her. She hates my kind, and she hates this town. I can’t trust her to protect it. I need you, Edna.”

He’s a little desperate. The town wasn’t just full of wolves. In fact the vast majority of the town was made up of humans with a strong united pack to make sure that everyone was safe when shit went bump in the night. Especially the supernatural bumps in the night. The thing that made a good alpha was recognizing that one needed the help of his fellow pack members, and even other supernatural folks, to be at his best. He’d learned that lesson the hard way when he was younger and more cocky and stupid. But the truth of the matter was magic had kept the entire town safe for centuries now. And he wasn’t about to switch things up when lives were at stake.

He’s about to fall to his knees and just beg Edna to do the fucking charm when the door opens and out she walks. This time her hair is tied up with a scarf, dozens and dozens of tight little curls spilling out from a ponytail high up on her head. She’s in jeans again and a leather jacket and boy does he fucking wish it didn’t do anything for him. He can’t help but notice the skip of a beat in his heart that surely isn’t rage or hatred. And that’s the worst part about all of this.

“I’ll do it.” She said. “I can do it. Just show me where it’s at.”

He raised a pointed eyebrow and settled his hands on his hips.

“And I’m supposed to believe that because? Last time I saw you you told you hated this town and everything in it.”

She rolled her eyes as if he was the over dramatic one and twirled an umbrella in her fingers.

“Look I don’t have time to argue with you. Either I can make the charm and help your ass or not. It’s up to you.”

He stared at her in disbelief. And then at Edna who only smirked at him. This family was going to drive him fucking insane. No doubt about it. But he needed the damn charm.

“ Fine. But that umbrella is going to do you no good. I’m going to have to carry you.”

“Excuse me? I’ll drive.”

He felt his muscles tense and perhaps the first headache he’d had in months descend upon him too.

“It’s in the middle of the woods on a hiking trail. A car is not going to get you there. And a car can’t move as fast as me. You’re just going to have to get a little wet.”

It’s Athena’s turn to stare at her grandmother in disbelief. Her smile never shifts.

“Well you’ll just have to wait while I go cover my hair then.” she snorted.

“Excuse me?! Did you miss the part where someone died!”

“Calm down white boy. Damn. So dramatic.”

Fucking. Insane.

***

The rain makes a real mess of things. It’s muddy and dark and if he didn’t have incredible vision they’d probably be fucked. She’s surprisingly quiet throughout the entire walk and doesn’t even complain when he has to pick her up. It’d different than the last time he saw her. The energy surrounding her isn’t nearly as hostile and aggressive. In fact it kind of seems more like she’s thinking than anything else. The usual look of disgust isn’t even present on her face. Not that he’s looking at her face or anything. Because he isn’t.

So they walk and he holds her and it’s just the world of trees and greenery and rain around them. It’s ten times better than her fucking up his room and yelling at him.

“What are you thinking about?” He chanced readjusting his grip on her as he steps over a fallen tree.

She’s got a bright ass raincoat on and he’d go to the grave willingly before telling anyone that she looked cute in it. Because she doesn’t. She absolutely doesn’t.

“I can’t read you.” She mumbled from beneath her hood. “And I find it very annoying.”

“So you can read minds?”

She shook her head. “Nah boy, what am I Edward Cullen? I’m an empath. I can feel the emotions of those around me. I can usually get a really good sense of what those emotions are stemming from though. Like when mama is angry I can sense what her anger is in reference to. I slammed the door a couple of weeks back and I knew that that was what her anger stemmed from before she said anything. It gives me a really good understanding of people which is really all empaths are. When my power expand I’ll be able to infiltrate people’s feelings, make them feel what I want them too. With you though….I can sense the emotions but I never have any idea what they mean.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I have a sense that mama knows why but she’s not telling me for some reason.”

Edna had a history of knowing all and purposely letting you figure it out all on your own no matter how frustrating it might be. Shawn could imagine.

“Well, what am I feeling right now?”

“You feel...calm. But when you showed up at the house you were scared. You were in pain. You felt sad. Why are you calm now?”

He peered down at her as he walked. Her eyebrows were furrowed. She looked at him with genuine concern. It compelled a certain level of honesty that he never thought he would share with her.

“I feel most myself in the woods. Well besides from when I’m in wolf form anyway. I can’t really explain it. The earth and the trees and everything? It’s just always felt like home. I used to spend all my time out here even as a kid.” He explained. “It kind of helps that you’re not throwing books at my head this time around.”

Her fingers tighten slightly in his damp t-shirt.

“Yea… I uh I am sorry about how I reacted. You were just trying to help me and I was just really scared when I woke up. I--I had no idea where I was. And I was very frustrated that I wasn’t able to defend myself. Doesn’t matter. Still sorry.”

He feels incredibly tongue tied. Never in a million years would he have guessed that she would apologize let alone seem so sincere when she did it. It was like talking to a completely different person. A person he might actually be able to stand.

“I can understand that,” He spoke slowly. “I can’t imagine waking up with no idea where I am, and then my big dumb face is staring back at you. Might scare anyone.”

She laughs. And it...it nearly stops his heart. He can’t even explain the way that it makes him feel, so he hopes she can’t tell either. Whatever it is, it’s like a light. Like they’re moving through the big dark forest, but the second that she laughs the sun might as well appear. It’s like warmth and light and something pure. He’s left completely dumbfounded.

“Big, yes. Dumb, no.” She snorted. “I’ll be sure to get you a new lamp though. My bad.”

He keeps his mouth shut just in case he says anything stupid. Before he knows it, they're at the clearing to the trail where the attack took place. He lets her down off his arms and she moves to take in the scene before her. She pulls a jar out of her raincoat and walks slowly and methodically around the space sprinkling something along the ground as she whispers s beneath her breath. When she comes back to the space that she started a bright light emits from the ground and forms a circle around the space. It disappears soon after and then she puts the jar away and skips back over to him like nothing even happened.

“That’s it? It’s just safe now?”

She nods. “No evil energy will be able to penetrate it. Scouts honor.”

The thing about magic, and about witchcraft, was it wasn’t his area of expertise. All he could really do most of the time was trust that Edna was telling him the truth. And when it came to Athena, when it came to all of the things she’s said to him and yelled at him? Still all he was left with was a choice. Either he could trust her, or he could not.

“Okay.”

That was the night he decided to trust her.

He led her back down out of the woods. Instead of carrying her, they walked. In spite of how much slower it was, in spite of him having places to be, and commands to give. He walked alongside her in the woods. And he couldn’t explain what was compelling him to be alright with these circumstances. All he knew was that when she said she’d rather walk, he simply followed alongside her. And that was it.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmured arms in her big puffy raincoat and eyes completely on the ground trying to make sure she didn’t fall.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“The pain that you felt earlier? That fear? Where did it stem from?”

He lets his fingers graze her elbow to lead her over a rock so that she doesn’t trip.

“A woman died tonight.”

“Did you know her?”

“No. Not really. I mean knew of her the way that I know everyone in this town. But she was mine to protect nonetheless. I failed her tonight. And I failed her husband. And I failed all of her loved ones. The least I can do is mourn her death, don’t you think?”

She peers up at him from beneath her hood. Even in the dark he can read her eyes. Confused. Curious. It was like she was looking for something within him she couldn’t find. And he wasn’t sure what it was, or why she couldn’t find it.

“My mama...she says you don’t have a hateful bone in your body. She thinks you love this town more than anyone. Is that true?”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know about that. I can get very angry sometimes. It’s the alpha in me. I try my best not to be hateful though. This town it...it’s all that I have. It’s all that I am. My genes, my lineage, it was all created so that I could protect all who occupy this land. I love it here. I know it’s got its problems, and I know it hasn’t always been the greatest to your family or to other witches. But I’m trying to change that. I’m trying to take care of everyone here, Athena. Not just werewolves.”

She nods softly and goes back to staring at the ground. They don’t talk for the rest of the walk, but it’s okay. They’re sort of okay.

***

“We found the scent about thirty miles west and followed it. It cuts off through the Ottawa river, and we lose it there. We tried moving to the other side, but we got nothing.” Conner explained.

“Okay. We’ll make a visit to the next pack over city limits. I’ll take Jasmine and Zeubin with me. If we find out it’s not one of theirs then we regroup and we prepare as if we’re under attack. In the meantime, we continue with round the clock patrol. I’ll meet with Edna and Athena to make them aware and ask if they can help us at all.”

Everyone nods and breaks off to their respective tasks. The town hadn’t see any trouble in quite a long time. A lot of people thought that was a testament to Shawn's leadership. He wasn’t that naive. He thought he’d just managed to get a little lucky. After All the best way to manage the way an alpha led his back was in times of difficulty not peace.

It’s a two day trip to get there and back. He doesn’t want the neighboring pack to get scared by their presence so he only takes two of them with him. He also needs Brian back at home to watch over everyone and everything. And nothing against the kid, but he wouldn’t want to leave anyone in charge of his pack for more than two days. This was his main reason for stopping by Edna’s again. It’s definitely his only reason too.

Athena opens the door. She’s got her hair in that pineapple shaped ponytail again. The real difference this time is that she’s in a sweatshirt and leggings with no makeup on. She looks soft and warm. He completely forgets everything that he came there for. And it’s even worse because Jazmine and Zeubin were right behind him, and she’s staring at him a little bit like he’s crazy. Maybe he is.

“You were feeling fine a second ago. Determined. Now you feel overwhelmed. What’s wrong?” She asked.

“I….Uh--Sorry! I just um. I forgot what I was gonna say for a second.” He chuckled. “Can I talk to you and Edna?”

“Sure. Yea, come in.”

He catches them up on everything that he knows. Even he doesn’t notice but he spends the majority of his time talking to Athena. And she spends all of her time making eye contact with him. It’s clear to everyone in the room that something has shifted. There’s no longer a hatred in the room. It’s something different entirely. By the time they’re caught up, and it’s time to leave, he pulls her to side for a second just to check in separately.

“What’s up?” She asked softly.

“I need you to do something for me, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“What is it?”

“I just...I need you to keep an eye out while I’m gone, please? Just make sure nothing happens?”

Her eyes widened. “Me? Why not mama?”

“Because you’re supposed to be my point of contact now right?” He asked reaching for her arms. “ Don’t worry. I trust you.”

“You do?”

“I do...I haven’t quite figured out why yet. But, I do. You can feel that though can’t you?”

She scrunched her face up slightly as she peered at him in bafflement. He wondered if he could read her emotions if that would be all she ever felt towards him.

“I can. Okay I--I’ll keep an eye out.” She agreed.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

*Athena’s point of view*

“You’re pacing.”

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m not pacing I’m just thinking.”

“Well then you’re pacing and you’re thinking. Girl, what is the matter with you?”

Athena paused in her nonstop path of circles that she’d walked around her bedroom to peer at her friend. Taylor was the only friend she’d made thus far in the tiny town. And it was a hundred percent because she was black and a witch too. They had to stick together in this crazy ass town. Taylor was also born and raised in Pickering and was kind enough to give Athena background when she needed it. Although she had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to help this time around.

Taylor lied in the middle of her bed, locs long and neatly spread out across her bed, as she stared at her like she was crazy.

Athena rolled her eyes. “I’m just...I’m trying to figure out what the hell to do.”

“About?”

“Shawn asked me to look over things while he was gone. I promised. And now I have no idea how to actually do that seeing as how I have zero contact with the pack.”

“Wait wait wait...Since when did you make promises to Shawn Mendes of all people? I thought you hated his guts?”

Athena paused. “I did. I--I do! I...I don’t know!”

“I can’t believe you’ve let me sit here for over an hour watching you walk around like a crazy woman when you had tea to spill. Sit down.” Taylor exclaimed.

She doesn’t really know how to explain, or what to explain. She didn’t quite get it herself. After her talk with Edna, she had decided to head her advice if only to save herself a little frustration. She had zero intentions of trusting Shawn, or anything beyond being cordial enough to get her job done. And then she had talked to him. And he just wasn’t that fucking bad. She kept looking for signs of the rhetoric her mom used to tell her about, a sign of anger or hate or rage in his eyes. It wasn’t there. His eyes were unbelievably kind. And everytime she read his emotions she couldn’t find any ill intent once so ever. Add on top of that his willingness to share and be open with her, when she’d been nothing but awful to him, she had found herself in a bit of a conundrum.

“I don’t know what it is Tay, I just...something in my gut is telling me he’s not bad. And mama trusts him with her whole heart. I can feel that. And he trusts me. Like really fucking trusts me. Something is telling me to trust him back.”

Her best friend squinted at her and let her legs flop aimlessly around the bed as she thought.

“And this has nothing to do with him being the hottest man this town has ever seen right?”

“W--What?!”

Taylor chortled. “I’m just saying. If that man carried my ass through the woods and made small talk, I’d trust his fine ass too!”

“I hate you. I am never talking to you about anything again.” Athena grumbled.

“Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch. I was just kidding. So, we going over there or what?”

“Tay what in the hell are you talking about?”

Athena watched as Taylor slid off the bed and walked to stand in front of her friend.

“He told you to keep an eye out on things right? You have no contact with his pack. So wouldn’t it make sense for you to go to their house and get some more information?”

“You want me to walk directly into the lion’s den after I smashed their alpha’s shit to pieces and ask them for what? The hot gossip? Girl is you out your damn mind?” Athena snorted.

“It’s the only what you’re going to get any info! And if Shawn trusts you, they don’t have a choice anyway. That shit’s like sacred. What the alpha says, goes. Kinda hot, tbh.”

Athena let her face fall into her hands. “Oh lord.”

Taylor simply laughed. “C’mon. You don’t wanna let your mans down now do you?”

“He is not my mans!”

“No of course not! I absolutely believe you.”

Athena made a mental note to get some new friends.

***

“You are going to get us killed!” Athena hissed as Taylor knocked loudly on the door.

Taylor snorted. “Girl you are the strongest witch in all the land. Let these wolves know.”

Jesus.

The person who answers the door is actually a woman with olive toned skinned and long black hair that hung loosely in a braid. She was like seven feet tall and absolutely gorgeous. Both women found themselves a little baffled at her very presence. Truly a magical specimen she was.

“Can I help you?” She asked at their dumbfounded expressions.

Athena tried to smile. “Hi. I’m Athena.”

“Yea, I know who you are. You threw my tea with your mind and broke my favorite cup.”

Great start.

“Ahh...Well I am so very sorry about that. I would happily get you a new one.” She assured her. “I’m here actually because Shawn sort of asked me to keep an eye on things while he was gone. But I don’t really know how to do that without talking to you all. And I know I’m probably not super well liked here, so I thought I might come and try and set things off on a better foot.”

The beautiful woman tilted her head and stared down at her with hazel eyes that were just the right side of threatening. They were so different from Shawn’s eyes it was almost unrecognizable to her.

“You want to help us?” She asked. “Why?”

Athen huffed a little. “Because it’s kind of my destiny. Or so I’m learning.”

Somehow, someway, she lets them in. And it’s not like a dungeon or anything. It’s just a house. The woman, Lily, was sitting on the couch watching Stranger Things and eating cereal. One of the younger ones, Connor was his name, was swiping through tinder matches and pretending to watch the show with her. There’s no attack, no name calling, no anything. And it’s so incredibly disorienting. It feels completely different than everything she ever knew. Athena wasn’t sure whether to feel elated or disappointed. She didn’t really know how to feel about it at all.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Jasmine and Zeubin crash into the house like zombies, completely ready to fall into their beds and sleep after the long journey. Shawn on the other hand knows he has to stay on his feet just a little longer. He heads for Brian’s room first once he’s sure that the house itself is still intact. His beta and subsequent best friend was still asleep, but jolted awake as Shawn plopped down on his mattress.

“Shit, dude, I hate when you do that.” He groaned.

Shawn snorted. “Nice to see you too, bud. We’re back if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Mazel tov. Can I go back to sleep?”

“No, jackass; get up. We visited the pack. They had no clue what we were talking about. None of their wolves have gone rogue, and they have no signs of any attacks on their land. We need to be on our best defense. Now what the hell happened while I was gone?”

“Absolutely nothing. We did the round the clock patrols just like you said. Never found the scent again, or any other scent for that matter. Plus your witch friends were here, so even if they were out there they probably got scared off.” Brian snorted.

“Witch friends? What witch friends?”

He rolled his eyes and settled back into his bed. “That Athena chick brought one of her friends over here. Said you told her to keep an eye out on the place. Like you didn’t trust me or something.”

“She came here? To the house, in front of you all?”

“I thought it was pretty ballsy of her too. Lily seemed to get a kick out of her though. You could ask her.”

“Hmm...I’m going to take a nap and then I want everyone’s ass in the living room to plan at noon got it?”

“Yes dude. Please. Sleep.”

Fucking Brian.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

She’s in the woods again trying to channel her powers the way that Edna had taught her. Some days it’s easy and some days it isn’t. Today in particular had been incredibly frustrating. Athena had never worked much with her active powers. Her mother had been purposeful that way. When they moved out of Pickering, she wanted to pretend to be normal. So except for the summers when her mama came to visit, she never really got to use them. It was easy to be an empath, that happened no matter what. But, Edna had assured her that she would have powers that she couldn’t believe. She just had to practice.

And that’s where he finds her. Sitting in the middle of the forest like an idiot. She hears the break in the leaves and immediately turns with her hands up in case she needed to defend herself.

“Hey, I come in peace!” Shawn called.

She sighed and let her hands drop.

“What are you doing here? You scared me.”

His long legs take him to her in far greater strides then he had any right to be able to do. Before she knew it he was standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I went to your house but Edna said I could find you here.” He smiled at her. “Long time no see.”

“It’s been two days.” She snorted. “How did things go with the other pack?”

He frowned. “Not great. It wasn’t them. The pack is making plans of defense as we speak. I just want us to be prepared. It might be nothing, but it might be something.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

He eyed her for a second, a smile still plane on his face.

“You’ve been doing a lot lately. I heard you braved the big, bad wolves while I was away.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You all are not that tough. It was fine. No biggie.”

“You went to a place that I know you don’t like just to check in on my pack. I take that very seriously. That means a lot to me.” He told her reaching for her hands. “Thank you, Athena. I mean it.”

She peers down at his hands and then up into his eyes. She can feel the excitement in his veins, and she can feel a little confusion, and something softer...softer like endearment. It’s cloudy because he doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling, which means she can’t see it either.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured. “If i’m being honest it was a lot for me. I didn’t think they’d even open the door after the last time.”

“You’re fine. They know it’s not that simple, they understand the history. You’re allowed in that house whenever you want. Anyone ever gives you trouble they can answer to me.”

It’s a little aggressive, a little… braggadocious. Suddenly Athena gets a random flashback to Taylor’s obnoxious laughter about Shawn’s attractiveness. She bites her lip a little bit.

“Okay. I’ll make note of that.”

“So, what are you doing out here in the middle of the woods again?”

Her shoulders slumped. “Being the worst witch of all time, really.”

“I highly doubt that. You’ve kicked my ass enough times. What’s the matter?”

She groaned in frustration. “My active powers aren’t fucking activating. Mama says I just need to practice more but I’ve been practicing for hours and nothing is happening.”

“You’re probably just overthinking it. Obviously it’s different but when I was trying to shift for the first few months it was hell. I got so worked up about it and didn’t allow my instincts to just take over. You should get away from it for a while.”

“But this is all I have to do.” She whined. “It’s not like I have a job here, or any commitments. I’m just supposed to be training.”

He smiles at her again. It frustrates her. She can never understand when he gets these random bursts of happiness for no reason. It doesn’t make sense. And she can’t read him enough to determine what it is.

“C’mon.” He said reaching for her hand to tug her along.

She raised an eyebrow. “Boy, where are you taking me?”

“To fucking relax. You’re gonna give yourself a stroke before you turn thirty at this rate.”

“And what makes you think I want to relax with you?”

He turned back around to her, hands still pulling her with him as he walked backwards with the cockiest grin on his face. There’s no reason it should’ve made her heart react the way it did. No reason at all.

“You haven’t sent me flying yet, that’s why.”

He took her to a diner that she’d never been to before. Apparently he was a regular though because the entire place greets him when they walk in. He’s even got his own booth. It’s ridiculous. She went to take her jacket off and he was suddenly right behind her tugging at the shoulders of the jacket to help her out of it. From anyone else it would’ve caused indifference at best, and annoyance at worst. So, why in the world does she smile? And why in the hell is he being so nice to her in the first place? Why does she have zero interest in hating him anymore?

“This place has the best mac and cheese in the whole damn country. I’m sure of it. You must try it.” He said pointing the dish out on the menu.

She rolled her eyes. “What do you know about some mac and cheese, white boy?”

“I’m a white boy with the stomach of a wolf. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

And that’s the most ridiculous part of all of this. She does trust him. Almost endlessly so. Maybe not in his ability to determine what some good ass mac tasted like, but with just about everything else. She doesn’t realize until he’s telling her a story of him confronting his childhood bully after he presented as an alpha, that she’s completely forgotten about her powers. Hell she’d forgotten about being a witch entirely. And if the wolf part hadn’t been central to his story, she wasn’t so sure she would’ve thought about that either. For the first time since she’d entered that town it wasn’t about magic, it wasn’t about the greater good, or her “destiny”. He was just treating her like a person. Like a friend even.

“So you just straight up attacked his ass, aye?” She snorted.

He laughed. “I wouldn’t say attack. I would say...spook. I spooked him a little bit. Hey, I went from this lanky unpopular kid who hung out in gardens and shit to complete lean muscle in a summer. Jackass had it coming for how often he used to make fun of me.”

“Poor baby.”

“Yea, well I’m doing just fine nowadays, if you hadn’t noticed.” He pointed out waving a hand over his general physique.

Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh come on! Yes you have.”

She reached for her glass to take a slow, deliberate sip of her drink.

“Was there something to notice?” She asked.

“Ouch, Athena. That hurt.” He pouted.

She giggled quietly to herself and he smiled another smile at her.

The food arrives and Shawn has three plates to her one. Something about needing to stay strong and full just so she could not notice. The mac and cheese is shockingly good. Athena peers towards the back to see if there’s a black person back there cooking. The diner is cosy and warm as it starts to rain outside and he keeps making her laugh with a startlingly ease. It feels nice. So nice.

“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” He said as you both worked on finishing your meals.

Athena shrugged. “Shoot.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want. I was just curious...what exactly happened that made you hate it here so much? I’ll believe you no matter what it is, I just thought I’d ask.”

It stuns her for a moment. She hadn’t even told Taylor about her past with the town. She just assumed Athena hated wolves just because she was a witch. No one but her and her mama really knew what happened. What this town had been like. And even then she had only heard the stories, had never actually been there for it. It’s a story she never quite felt like sharing. But, she can feel his earnestness, can feel the sincerity and the willingness to listen in him. He’s feeling confident, and more than that he’s feeling vulnerable. It’s hard to not let his emotions bleed into her own.

“My momma grew up here.” She whispered peering down at her plate. “She lived here her whole life. And i guess the feud between the witches and the wolves was supposedly a lot better at that point. It would’ve been when your dad was alpha. My dad… he was a beta.”

“Wait...You’re part wolf?”

She nodded. “I guess technically. It never presented in me that way though. But my dad, he fell in love with my mom. They were mates.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yea. It was just about as unheard of as it is now. But they couldn’t help it. They were in love with each other. And when the town found out that a wolf was with a witch? All of that peace treaty shit went straight out the window. She--She couldn’t even leave the house. They would scream the most awful things at her. She wasn’t allowed on his side of town or the locals would throw things at her. I guess my dad would come visit her, but the witches weren’t fond of his kind either. It was awful. She can’t even talk about it to this day without crying. When she got pregnant with me, that was the final straw. She left town and she’s never come back. She’s never forgiven this town for what it took from her.”

Her knee bounces sporadically beneath the table. She doesn’t notice until Shawn covers it with his palm to get her to stop.

“Your dad. What happened to your dad?” He asked.

“He...He stayed here at first. You can’t just leave the pack without there being grave consequences.But the pain of being away from your mate is insufferable. They were literally designed for each other. Apparently he ended up leaving the pack anyway, but the damage had already been done. No one’s heard from him since.”

“Shit. Shit. Athena that--that’s so horrible. Honey, I can’t even...I’m so sorry.”

Sometimes she liked to focus on the emotions of others because it meant she didn’t have to think about herself. It’s made easier when he places his hand on her knee. It’s like his emotions are screaming at her. There’s a sadness. An empathy that feels like it’s wrapping itself around her in a thick smoke. And then there’s a guilt, which throws her completely for a loop.

“You feel guilty. Why?”

He frowned. “Are you kidding me,I was such a dick to you. It never even occurred to me to get your side, to ask you what you've been through. Even when my dad told me to. I should have listened. I should have asked you sooner. I--I’m so sorry. No one deserves to experience that. No wonder you hate it here.”

The sincerity to it all baffles her further. She never could have expected that Shawn would show her this kindness. She didn’t even know wolves were capable of showing someone like her that kindness. His hand is still on her thigh and it’s so warm. This town had felt cold to her for so long, had represented nothing but it. And yet he was here, right in front of her, continuously destroying her expectations.

“Well it...it hasn’t been so bad lately.” She mumbled. “But I uh I’m still trying to learn how to feel like I belong here. And maybe now you can see why that’s been a little more difficult to me. It doesn’t excuse my anger towards you, and I’m still truly sorry about it. I just hope you’ll see that I’m trying.”

“Of course. Hey, of course I do. I’m just glad we’ve gotten to start off on a better foot. You do belong here, Athena. We’re just lucky to have you. I hope you can see that.” he murmured.

His eyes are as warm as his hand, so when he removes his grip from her knee, it doesn’t feel as devastating. She bites her lip to ground herself in the moment, to not be so in her own head, to just say how she really feels.

“I never thought I could feel safe here.” She admitted. “You gave me that. So, thank you.”

“You are always safe here with me, Athena. Always.”

She trusts him then too.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He still meets with his dad to discuss pack issues. He liked knowing that there was a wealth of knowledge that he didn’t necessarily have, but could always tap into. His dad had never led him astray before. So when another hiker goes missing, and they can’t even find the body, he goes to him immediately. Something has to be done. And it has to be the right something because his town’s safety is at stake.

“I don’t know what it is, dad. This whole thing just feels off. It’s too calculated to be a random incident.” He huffed for the umpeenth time.

“What do you mean, what is it?”

“It’s like...it’s like they’re fucking with the line. First we happen to be able to track their scent all the way to the county line, and it just happens to cut off at the river where our territory ends? And then this time they get someone on the trail that is just outside our reach and the scent cuts off again. What are the fuckin’ chances?”

His dad nods. “It’s definitely weird for sure. I want you to trust your gut. All you can do is prepare and be defensive though. If you think a curfew is necessary to keep people out of the woods, then I’m sure sargent Farah would listen to you.”

“But it is weird right? Did anything like this ever happen when you were running the pack?”

“Not exactly. We had a lot more problems with our own fighting each other than others looking to attack.” He sighed.

It reminds him of his lunch with Athena. He could still feel the sadness in his eyes when she told him the story. He could also still see the way he made her laugh when they got ice cream afterwards and he immediately dropped his on the ground. He could feel the flutter it caused in his stomach. And he had no fucking clue what to do about it.

“Yea I uh...Athena finally told me what happened with her mom and dad here. Were you close to the situation?”

Manny shook his head softly. “It was a terrible situation. The worst I ever felt as pack leader. I couldn’t control anything that was happening. Not the humans, not the wolves, not the witches. Everyone was just livid over it. I was close enough to try to convince her father to leave. Being without one’s mate can cause you to go feral. Then again so can leaving your pack. When he left us, I wasn’t sure what to do. I can only hope that he’s okay.”

He plays with one of the rings on his finger to keep him busy as he hedges his next question.

“Were they really mates? Can a wolf and a witch mate?”

“Yea. It’s rare. Very rare. But, it can happen.”

He nodded softly. “Do they always end like that?”

“No, of course not. A wolf and a witch mating is just like any other mates. It’s intense of course, but it’s ultimately lovely.”

When he looks up his dad is giving him that look that says he sees right through him. It was always like his dad to know him better than he knew himself.

“You wanna ask something.” Manny guessed. “Just go ahead and ask it.”

He shrugged. “I guess I was curious what it felt like with you and mom. How did you know you two were mates and not just...attracted to each other or something.”

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t actually know at first. You hear those stories about first meeting and it being instantaneous, but it isn’t really. It’s a lot like falling in love for the first time. I saw her and I was tongue tied. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t find out we were mates until her mother passed.”

“How come?”

“When you’re a mated pair eventually your emotions become linked in a way. Specifically pain. Physical. Mental. There’s a catalyst that sparks it. That’s when you’ll know. It’ll probably be the most painful thing you’ll ever go through. The good news is it’ll come with a lot of beauty afterwards.”

He looked back down and shook his head.

“I was just asking. Not like I’m gonna be mated anytime soon. Got the pack to think about.” He mumbled.

“Sure thing kiddo, sure thing.”

***

Traveling with non-wolves is always a pain in the ass. They can’t move as fast, and even if he shifted to be able to carry them, there was no way to communicate. He usually hated it, hated anything that limited his ability to move and be free. Somehow he doesn’t hate this, and that just confuses him the way that everything has lately.

Part of the defense plan for the town was to visit all of the cut off parts of their territory and set up some charms and general hocus pocus shit to hopefully help figure out what the hell was trying to invade his town. Obviously Edna wasn’t quite up for day long journeys anymore. So, it was just him and Athena. It hadn’t even occurred to him to invite anyone else from the pack along, he just told them he needed everyone at home in case something happened. But a part of him, and that part was growing every time she tripped over everything she came across and immediately refuse to let him carry her, knew why he didn’t want anyone else around.

They were friends now. Like actual, genuine, friends. And he kind of loved it. She was so fucking funny and wicked smart. She never took any of his shit and spent most of her time making fun of him. Her sense of humor was inappropriate as hell. He loved every bit of it. That within itself wasn’t a problem. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with their friendship. The problem came when she would laugh and his heart would skip a beat. The problem was every time she complained about the outdoors and it didn’t irritate him at all, it only made him feel softer. The problem was that he had deep, genuine feelings for her and there seemed to be no getting around them.

They camped out in the woods right off of one of the hiking trails because Athena couldn’t do the walking for twenty-four hours straight that he could. She had made a fire with nothing but her hands, her ability to manipulate the elements coming very much in handy. She sat there next to the fire in an oversized sweatshirt pulled over her knees, and it just hurt to stare at her. He kept trying to keep his thoughts under control around her only for her to stare up at him with those soft lips, those beautiful eyes. And he was just meant to not notice at all?

“I wanna ask you something.” She hummed at him after they’d finished their dinner of fire roasted pizza.

His whole body locked up.

“Y--yea? What’s that?”

“Do you think you’ve ever been in love before?”

Shit.

His cheeks heated immediately and it had nothing to do with the fire. He couldn’t make eye contact and he knew his heart was racing in his chest. Even he could read the nerves coming off of him in waves. It must’ve been easy for her to read.

“Love? I--I’m not sure. I’ve had really great, really important relationships before. I’ve told a few women that I loved them. But, I usually reserve the concept of being in love with, what my parents have and I’ve definitely never had that before.”

She smiled at him. His heart rate increased.

“I met them when mama introduced us. They are very complex beings emotions wise. I could read them so easily. They felt so many things at once: comfort, sincerness, kindness, all of that. But no matter what they were saying, there was always an undercurrent of love. They felt it for each other endlessly and relentlessly. I thought it was really beautiful.”

He nodded softly, happy that he could at least be open and honest with this, could let his emotions run wild with what he’d grown up around.

“It is. They’ve known each other since they were twenty. My dad went on a trip to London because he was twenty and dumb and thought that a werewolf in london was too good an irony to pass up. He met her the first day,and they spent his whole trip there together. When it was time for him to leave, he begged her to come to Pickering with him. She told him was crazy. He told her he’d convinced her. Again, she told him he was crazy. I was born a year later.” He smirked.

It has the intended effect that that story always gave. She cooes and aww’s and smiles, and he just wants to kiss her already.

“Well that’s sweet as shit. You’ve got some big shoes to fill, Mendes.”

He scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Haha. Funny. Why do you ask anyway?”

This time it’s her turn to give the deer caught in the headlights look. Her habits are a bit different than his, but he’s been spending so much time with her lately that they all sort of click for him. Her knee bounces at an abnormal rate. She hides her hands away, this time in the sleeves of her sweatshirt. She peers down at the ground and then back up at him from beneath these eyelashes that cause him nothing but trouble.

“No reason. I was just curious.”

“Okay. Have you ever been in love before?” He asked.

She shook her head softly. “I thought I was before. I’ve loved a lot people who didn’t really love me back. But, that soft shit your parents have? I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Well, why not?” He pushed, almost stubbornly. “Everyone’s worthy of love, Athena.”

“I know. I know that, but that stuff you only read about, that’s a one in a million chance type stuff, Shawn. I’m not losing sleep over it. I don’t need some earth defying romance. I’ll be okay.” She snorted.

“Yea, alright. Sure. I’m gonna...go get more firewood.”

He hopped up from his seat moving to put distance between the two of them. She gave him a strange look but he didn’t stay long enough for her to ask questions.

*No one’s point of view*

Shawn flicks off to the forest to pull at branches and thinking stubbornly about his emotions. Meanwhile Athena sets up their sleeping bags in the tent and struggles to get comfortable. She spends a long while thinking about the look on Shawn’s face. He had felt frustrated, fed up. Hurt even. And she didn’t know why. She never knew why, and it was driving her slowly insane. She liked him. Why the hell did she like him so much? And why wasn’t he like everyone else, why couldn’t she read whether he liked her back?

She kept catching glimpses of things that made her think it might be possible. A rush of warmth in his belly. Utter elation and happiness when they were together. But it always felt circumstantial. They’d be doing something he loved, or just having fun in general. And to be honest Shawn was such a happy go lucky guy in general, he seemed to be the type to say I love you to a really good burger. It never felt like enough. And it wasn’t like she ever caught him feeling love. He was so stupid. This is so stupid.

God she was so stupid, Shawn thought. Women. Oh how he missed the days where girls had cooties and he could just play on the monkey bars. Back when things made sense! Here he was, heart on his sleeve, pining after this woman and she didn’t even want him. And how fucking dumb was he to think that they could possibly, in some universe, actually be mates? Of course they weren’t. Just because she didn’t hate his guts all of a sudden didn’t mean she was gonna fall in love with him.

The wind starts to pick up and he feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up like a storm might be on the horizon. So, he heads back to the campsite in case Athena gets cold as the temperature begins to drop. He’s still a wounded.

Neither of them speak as Shawn crawls into the tent. He tugs off his shirt and tosses it besides his sleeping back as he crawls inside. Athena rolls her eyes at the ceiling. What reason was there possibly to take off one’s shirt in this cold ass weather. It was like he was teasing her at this point. Shawn laid on his back, arm tucked behind his head as he peered over at the girl who hadn’t left his heart alone since he’d met her.

“Are you okay? It gets cold up here at night.” He whispered.

She bit awkwardly at the inside of her cheek. “No. I’m freezing.”

He sighed. “That’s my bad. I should’ve warned you about that. Here, come here.”

She peered over at the boy who hadn’t left her heart alone since she’d met him.

“Excuse me?”

I’m like a hundred and two degrees on a slow day. I’ll keep you warm. You won’t even need the sleeping bag.”

It was a total recipe for disaster. Snuggle up with the guy she most definitely had feelings for? But it was cold. And Athena didn’t do cold. She thrived in straight tropical temperatures, and had somehow ended up in canada. It was a travesty really.

“Are you sure?” She mumbled, fingers peeking out hesitantly from her blanket.

“Of course, I am. I wouldn’t leave you to freeze. C’mere.”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he found her unconscious in the woods. She settles herself on top of him, or at least she tries. There’s an awkwardness as neither of them quite know how to move their bodies with each other. She doesn’t want to smother him, and he can’t quite tell her that he’d happily die that way if given the option, so all he can do is tug at her hips until she falls gracelessly against him.

She groans softly. “Christ, you’re warm.”

“Told you.” He mumbled tucking one of her curls out of her face.

She peered up at him from his chest and they’d never had their faces that close together before. She smelled like campfire and sandalwood and something sweet. He smelled like campfire and musk and something warm.

“You are so odd, Shawn Mendes.”

He chuckled fingers diving in to play with another curl.

“Why is that?”

“You storm off into the woods like some moody teeanger because I don’t see any showstopping romance coming my way? And then you just crawl in here with your dumb doe eyes and your dumb six pack and start playing with my hair? Why? Why are you this way?” She ranted.

“I’m a moody teenager? You’re absolutely oblivious! Oblivious, do you know that? Your cheek bones are dumb.” He huffed taking her face in his hand and caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. “And your full lips are dumb. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

It provides a clarity that rocks her to her very toes. It’s like he had been purposely keeping just enough puzzle pieces to himself so that she couldn’t see the picture. Suddenly she could see it with startling clear eyes. The warmth in his stomach. The adoration and all of the nerves. They were all for her. All of it.

She feels his determination before she feels his kiss. But oh does she love his kiss. His lips are warm against her cold ones, soft but firm. She can feel her jaw tense against the palm of his hand as he curves it against her cheek. His other hand smoothed down to her back and beneath her sweatshirt, tangling in the fabric until she felt his touch on the small of her back searing and hot. Suddenly it feels like she’s breathing for the first time. Like simultaneously he’s breathing life right into her lungs while it also feels like he’s taking it all away. She’d happily give it all away.

Kissing her feels like sunshine. It feels like warmth and softness and cocoa butter. It feels like something to get lost in, something that has no use in fighting because it could so easily overpower him. Her lips completely capture his own, and he doesn’t feel like he’s in charge even though he’s the one who kissed her. He feels like his heart is exploding and beating a new all at once. He knows it then. Without the need for any pain, or folklore, or history book. She’s completely and utterly his everything right there. It’s instantaneous. It’s immediate. It’s all consuming. And he’s not fighting it once so ever.

“Why the hell did you make me wait that long?” He growled nipping his way down to her throat.

She moaned and it made his hips buck beneath her.

“I--I couldn’t read how you felt. And it scared me. F--Fuck your teeth are sharp.”

He immediately retracts his mouth peering down at her with nervous eyes, all of his confidence vanishing. It reminded her of the story her mama had told her of not wanting to scare people with his fangs as a child.

“No, good sharp Shawn. Very good sharp.” She assured him and tugged him in again.

“Are you sure? Are you sure you want this?” He mumbled rubbing his nose against hers.

“I’m sure. Come here. Please.”

She doesn’t go to bed cold that night.

***

*Athena’s point of view*

The next morning is full of loaded glances and awkward smiles. He turns his back respectively as she pulls on a new shirt for the hike back down. He catches her staring when he goes to do the same. She pretends that her cheeks don’t warm when he catches her, and thanks god for the melanin. They pack up their camp and prepare to leave. The first time, for what are sure to be many, she trips over a rock he finds the guts to hold her hand. His fingers are warm intertwined with hers, and it feels so fucking high school and so overhwelming and perfect all at once.

“Why don’t you just...let me lead you down this time, aye? Don’t want you getting hurt.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Okay, big guy. I’ll let you protect me, if it makes you feel better.”

“The sooner you recognize that all those powers of yours will do you know good the second you hit yourself in the head with a rock and bludgeon yourself, the better. There are somethings I can do better than you ya know?” He taunted.

“I’m a little clumsy, so what? I’m supposed to have you carry me down the mountain in your big strong arms?”

He grinned. “If you want, honey. Just say the word.”

Dumb. So dumb.

They scale down the rest of the path together in search of her car with their fingers intertwined. Her mind is still a little blown. She ran her fingers over neck where his five o’clock shadow had rubbed her. She could still feel where his teeth had nipped at her jaw, and the way her thighs tightened. More than anything she could feel the way her stomach had felt like it was floating. How he had made her feel light and open and happy. God.

At the car, they stuff her trunk full, and when he closes it he wastes zero time pressing her gently into the side. She didn’t know she could miss the feel of his hips against hers until she had it again.

“Could I uh drive home with you? I’ll shift and run home from there.” He whispered.

She smiled softly. “How come you wanna come home with me?”

He rolled his eyes and rolled his neck playfully before hiding a chuckle into her neck. It feels so good to be with him in this way.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye yet, okay? I’m just not ready.” He admitted. “Is that okay?”

“Me neither.” She tells him quietly. “Please come with me.”

“Yea? Can I kiss you again first?”

“I think I’d be insulted if you didn’t.”

God they were so dumb.

The drive home is spent listening to the radio and holding hands on the center console. It’s easy. So incredibly easy after all the time they spent fighting and disliking each other. She doesn’t have to be afraid anymore. It’s like a huge weight off her chest, and all that she’s left with is this thing that is new and exciting and comforting. He sings in her ear and it makes her heart feel warm. He just is there and it’s so intoxicating. She doesn’t know how to contain herself. She doesn’t want to let it go.

“I think you should let me take you out.” He murmured.

She peered over at him from the road with a playful grin on her face.

“Yea? Where are you gonna take me? The diner?”

“Noooo. Girl, I’ve got moves you haven’t even seen yet. Things you can’t even imagine!”

Athena found this to be particularly funny. Shawn did not.

“Moves! You’ve got moves, aye?!”

“Keep on laughing at me and you will get none of this loving, do you hear me? None of it.”

She keeps laughing, peering from the road to the face of this adorable ass idiot. One second it’s just them and the road and everything is fine. The next, she peers back from his face to the road and there’s something there.

“Shit!”

She slammed on the break, jerking the wheel to the left to avoid the blur of brown moving into the road. Shawn’s arm is suddenly there across her stomach like a shield as they spin out against the road. Her heart slams just as aggressively against her sternum, and she gasps as her fingers lock against the steering wheel. The car jerks again until stopping in the middle of the road.

“What the hell was that?!” She screamed, dazed and confused.

“That was a wolf. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked reaching across the console to touch her face.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’m okay. I’m alright.”

“Okay. Just wait here. I’ll be right back!”

“Shawn, wait--”

He threw himself for the car peering over at the space where the animal had been. He was only out there for a few moments before he began tugging his shirt off in the middle of the road and running back to your car.

“It’s the scent! It’s the fucking wolf that’s been terrorizing the town. I’m gonna go after it. Drive back to my place. Tell whoever is there. I’m gonna follow it.”

“W--Wait. Shawn, you don’t even know who that is. Maybe we should just drive back together!”

He shook his head. “Sweetheart, we can’t risk it. I’m gonna be fine. Listen to me, okay? I’ll be fine. Just go.”

“But...But Shawn!”

“Go!”

Her nerves are absolutely frazzled the rest of the drive back. She can’t stop thinking about what the hell Shawn could possibly be doing. And sure, he was an alpha; he was the alpha, but that didn’t mean he had any clue what he was up against. Whoever or whatever was out there had been masterly avoiding them for weeks. Now, all of a sudden they just plop straight in the middle of the road in front of them? What the hell were the chances of that?

She gets back to his house somehow without crashing and is barely out of the car before people are greeting her outside. It’s Brian, Jasmine, Connor, Zeubin, and Lily all having heard her tires screeching on the asphalt.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Shawn?” Brian asks.

She points out into the woods where she’s fucking hoping they can hear them and tries to explains without passing out. But, her heart is hammering in her chest, and something is telling her that this isn’t right. It doesn’t feel right.

“Okay. Jasmine, Zeubin, and Lily with me. Connor you stay here with Athena. We’ll go make sure everything is okay.” Brian ordered.

“Excuse me? Fuck that. I’m going too!” Athena challenged.

Brian’s eyes flashed gold, a sign of his betaness and general assholerly.

“You will stay here. All you’ll do is get in the way.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m more powerful than you. That is a fact. And I’m not sitting here like a fucking limp rag while you go out and defeat the bad guys. It’s my town to protect too. Now stop fucking arguing with me and let’s go!”

Everyone peers between the two of them, no doubt trying to figure out who has the higher rank, Shawn’s right hand man in the pack, or the most powerful witch in the town. She’s not interested in the time it’s going to take them to figure it out though, so she stalks off into the woods until everyone else follows.

“You can’t just go walking there! You’ll slow us down. You can climb on my back when I shift and I’ll take you.” Connor offers.

She smiles at him. And they say maturity comes with age. Not always.

The rest of them must decide for themselves that she’s not taking no for an answer, because they all spring into action. She watches them shift and it’s a little more unsettling than she cared to admit. Suddenly she’s surrounded on all sides by wolves that are taller than her head on all fours. Except for Connor who quickly barks and kneels down in front of her. The kid standing before her just minutes ago could have never taken all of her weight on his back. Now, she feels tiny climbing to nestle herself in his fur. Her fingers dig into his fur for something to grab onto. He barks at her and at first she thinks she hold on too tight, but as soon as he begins to move she realizes he’s asking her to grab tighter.

As a group they all tear into the woods. She keeps her face hidden in Connor’s fur to ignore the blur of trees that was sure to give her whiplash. Athena can only imagine that everyone is running based off of smell, of Shawn’s scent. She on the other hand is going strictly off fee. Something had changed the moment he kissed her. She could send him even now, even while they were apart. At her prime that wasn’t something that she could do with other people. Maybe a few feet away, but nothing this great of a distance. She could feel every emotion going on inside of him and they were miles apart. It didn’t make any sense.

Just fucking wait for me, she thought to herself. She can feel his confidence, tilting a little over the edge of cockiness. There’s this straight edge focus that comes with being the alpha, along with this crippling need to protect. The wildest thing about it all is that underneath all of those emotions, she can feel love. She knows that it’s love because it’s almost like a color in her mind. A brightness that shines through all of the other emotions running through him like a current. Only now, his emotions are no longer hidden from her. She can see what’s behind them. And it’s her. He’s thinking of her even now, even in the middle of a fight. And he’s thinking of her with love.

And that’s when it happens. One second she feels elated, overcome with emotion. And the next she’s in pain. Like heart stopping, blood curdling pain. Hers fingers lock down on Connor’s fur and she lets loose a scream that rips through her chest and out into the world. It’s the most painful thing she’s ever felt in her life. It feels like a hole is being punched through her chest, like someone is trying to rip her heart out. Tears pour hot and fresh from her eyes and she nearly loses herself on Connor’s back. She only knows that it’s not her because she feels that she’s linked to him, tethered so tightly that the bond between them feels taunt enough to snap. It’s him. He’s in pain.

“SHAWN! SHAWN IS IN TROUBLE!” You sobbed.

There’s a chorus of whimpers amidst the whooshing of the air against the trees. And then suddenly they’re all moving faster. The closer she gets to him the more his pain resonates within her And the more it does the more she begins to feel hot. The pain is searing and it’s bone deep, with a heat that begins to boil in her gut alongside it.

They make it through the woods and into the clearing and she practically tumbles off of Connor and onto the grass.

He’s there. She can tell it’s Shawn because of the shade of his fur, a chestnut brown close to his own hair color. The pain now is rippling hot in her. There’s another wolf on top of him that seems to take a bite out of his shoulder. Shawn lets out a wild bark that leaves her crying into the dirt. The other wolves run to intervene, but the wolf on top of Shawn is massive. And it looks nothing like everyone else. It’s hair is dark and matted. And its eyes are a sickly yellow color. When it bares its fangs, its teeth are sharp and yellow and huge, and Athena realizes where she had seen an image like it before. In one of the books her grandmother had shared with her for her training. That wolf was feral.

The wolf sinks its teeth into Shawn again before, Brian and Lily run head first to pull him off. As the others engage in battle, Shawn is left whimpering with these sad little mewels. It’s bad, she knows enough to know that it’s bad, can feel enough to know it’s bad. Her fingers dig into the dirt as she pressed her forehead into the earth and took a deep breath. There was a need for her to make it all better somehow. She felt a raw energy that was trying to climb it’s way out of her. One second she was just feeling all of Shawn’s pain and the next she just made a decision to end it.She works to visualize it in her mind, an outline that surrounds him on all sides in bright red. It’s just as unwavering as she could imagine, and it took so much out of her to even reach out and took it. She gritted her teeth and tug deep into the ground as she flexed a power that she’d never used before. Shawn’s whimpers died down almost immediately, and instead it was her who was left panting on the ground from the exertion.

When she came to, Connor was kneeled before Shawn nuzzling his head against the much larger wolf in an attempt to keep him company. But the other wolves were in the thick of a fight and it didn’t look like it was going well. The feral wolf was bigger than all of them, just smaller than Shawn, but more aggressive and less calculated. It was all brute force. Everytime one would launch themselves at it, the wolf would just slam them back. It didn’t look like it was three on one at all. Her connection to Shawn is now two fold. She can feel the anxiety and the fear for his pack, which translate into her own fierce need to protect. When the feral wolf throws Brian so hard into a tree that it snaps and falls over, Shawn howls and struggles to his feet. He can’t put any weight on his legs though and quickly falls over. All that he can do is bark and howl, and the frustration of this is enough to leave her feeling like she must do something.

She loses herself in it so quickly. Consciousness slips and all that she can feel is the power radiating from her fingertips. The air around them stills. The trees go silent. Her body ascends from the ground as the earth begins to shake from beneath her wrath. The wind that was nonexistent before comes roaring back, and her chest gets this odd sense of calmness before she lets lose another shocking scream as she directs all of her energy, all of her magic, all of everything that she is directly at the wolf. And then it all goes black.

***

Her head hurt like a bitch. That was the first thing she remembered. Her eyes fluttered open and the light in the room was so bright that she decided to just close them again. It felt like a long time before she opened her eyes again. This time when she did it was her mama standing over her with a washcloth pressed to her head. It was the washcloth that made her think of Shawn, and she immediately went to sit up only to get a whoosh of vertigo that sent her right back down to the bed.

“Lay back, girl. You’re exhausted.” She murmured pressing the cloth to her forehead again.

“Shawn, mama. W--Where is he?” Athena whimpered.

Edna rolled her eyes. “He is taking up all the space on my perfectly good couch. Something about not being able to be away from you. I take it you two finally figured out your mates then?”

“Mates?!”

“Woops.” She chuckled. “You’re mates, alright? All that frustration you were feeling, all that anger? Probably had more to do with the fact that you were fighting some very inevitable feelings than anything else. I meant it when I said it was your destiny.”

“But...But, if you knew we were mates why didn’t you just say something?”

“Because where’s the fun in that?” She snorted. “I can’t tell you nothing Athena. You have to learn your own way, and from what I hear about your little stunt in the woods, it worked.”

“What happened? I can’t remember any of it.”

“You got your active powers that’s what happened. You were able to manipulate the elements to basically create a giant tornado that knocked enough space between all of them. You saved their lives, child.”

“Me? I did?”

“Mhm. My baby.” She grinned playing with the blankets that were tucked around her. “There’s something I need to tell you though.”

“Okay, what is it?”

Edna sighed. “That wolf that attacked you all, the wolf that was responsible for the killings? That wolf was your daddy.”

“W--What? But you said...you said he ran away after my mom left town.”

“And he did. But remember when I taught you about feral wolves? The consequences for leaving one’s pack, for going without one’s mate, can lead to it. H--He wasn’t even himself anymore, baby. He hadn’t been in his human form for years and years. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing; he just felt pulled to this place because of everything that happened here.” She explained.

Athena picked anxiously at her blanket, eyes welling up against her will.

“Did I . . . Was it me?” She whispered.

Edna quickly leaned over and gathered her granddaughter up in her arms as the sobs began to rock her body jerkily.

“Shhhh. It wasn’t you, sweetheart. I swear.”

It felt weird to get emotional over a man she had never met. Her mother had only spoken good things about him when she was growing up, even though he hadn’t been able to come with her. She had only even seen him in pictures. Even as a child she’d been able to feel the love her mother had for him. As an empath it was her first glimpse at what that kind of love could feel like. And somehow she couldn’t help but feel like she’d played some sort of hand in taking it away.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes into her crying spell. And it is amazing how instantly she can feel him there, on the other side of the door. In her heart she knows he’s there for her, just as the need back in the woods had consumed her to be there for him.

“You want me to let him in?”

She sniffled and nodded allowing her grandmother to kiss her forehead before she got out of the bed.

The door opens and the second she hears his voice, her heart calms.

“H--hey I’m sorry, I just couldn’t--”

He peers over Edna’s head and makes eye contact with Athena. He sees her tears and has to stop himself from moving around Edna. She can feel that

“Hi. Can I please come in?”

It’s a request for him just as much as it is for her. He needs her to feel better, because it’s the only way either of them are gonna feel better.

Edna left the two of them alone and he immediately crawled into bed beside her. When he took her into his arms it was immediate relief. Her face took refuge in his neck as the tears burned her eyes but he was there. There was so much to talk about, so much to learn. But, for now, this is all that they have and it’s all that they need. Just the comfort of each other. Nothing else.

***

Six months later

*Shawn’s point of view*

“We are going to be late.” She giggled.

“Mmm...just a few more minutes, baby please?”

His lips traced lines along her neck and trailed up and down her cleavage. This was his happy place. His oasis. His heaven even. Why on earth would he ever leave?

“You know I hate making your mother wait.” Athena whined while still arching her back to push her chest closer to his mouth.

“Mhm. Of course.”

“You know I can feel when you’re lying right?”

“Stop using my emotions against me! It’s not fair.” He grunted teeth finding a new patch of skin to latch onto.

They were thirty minutes late to Sunday dinner. It wouldn’t have been a problem if his shirt hadn’t been buttoned wrong, and his dad hadn’t caught them on the porch not wanting to go in if they could kiss some more instead. You win some, you lose some.

Sunday dinners had become much more enjoyable with her in attendance, and not just because she let him kiss her in his childhood bedroom while his parent’s cleaned the dishes. In the time that it had taken them to come to terms with being mates they had adjusted with incredible ease. The strongest witch in town and the alpha. It was kind of a duo. An incredible duo at that. And it certainly helped that they loved each other more than anything in the world, in a way that was so vast and consuming that it could sometimes feel overwhelming. The good news was he had this amazing person to lean on, and who actually understood him better than anyone ever could. She made his heart soar.

He cornered her in the kitchen after dinner, arms wrapped tightly around her waist so he could hide his face in her braids. He was just as obsessed with her now as he’d been the second he figured out they were mates. Perhaps even before. Definitely before.

“You have no idea how happy it makes me when you come to dinner with me.” He breathed.

She hummed softly. “I think I do actually. Just a little bit.”

“Funny. You know...it might be a lot easier to get us to these dinners if I didn’t have to go to Edna’s to pick you up every time.”

Her fingers inched underneath his shirt to draw shapes that made his knees weak somehow.

“Just what do you suppose I do? We’d get here a lot quicker if you weren’t so handsy.”

He peered down at her and rested his forehead against hers.

“Maybe if you moved in with me, I could learn a little time management.” He grinned. “What didn’t feel that one coming did you?”

She head buts him playfully, her full lips forming quite the gasp. The things that she did to him. He was so gone.

“You want me to move in with you and a bunch of messy wolves, aye?” She smiled.

He shook his head. “Want you to move in with just one messy wolf. There’s a guest house on the property. It’d be just you and me.”

Her eyes got all wide and her lips made this small little “o” that honest to god was the cutest shit he’d ever seen. Surprising her was his greatest accomplishment.

She bit her lip. “Just us?”

“Just us. What do you say?”

“Yes! Of course, yes! Are you kidding me? Yes.”

She hops up into his arms crashing their lips together passionately. It felt like a really important step to building their life together, to creating something sustainable for the two of them. She had caused all of his goals and his needs to change so drastically in such a small amount of time. He only wanted her happiness, her safety, her pleasure. It was all that mattered to him. And he could always rest easy knowing that she would feel the exact same way about him. They were all that mattered now.

The End.

A ko-fi would really be lovely as I’m poor tbh lol.

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