#witch's sun sign series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizzieisright · 3 months

Text

Moon peppers (2)

(1)

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

Notes: Abby really doesn't like sharing the forest with a witch, while you try to prove to yourself that you are the badass who is not afraid of a giant wolf.

Taglist: @abbysbae @poxismind @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame (if you want me to tag/untag you for the whole series dm me please)

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You are not getting terrorised in your own home. Well. You are not getting terrorised in your own home again.

You wake up with this thought, angry and grumpy, the fear of the night still tightening your chest. You didn't even bathe yesterday, just took your clothes off and went to bed, the last shreds of your dignity not letting you hide under the covers.

It's still hard to feel so powerless, so you're angry at yourself as well for being scared. Of a werewolf no less. It's humiliating, but after the bear you learnt to at least respect your fear - it kept you alive this time. But now, when the sun shines through your curtains and you're a little afraid of leaving your bedroom, it becomes annoying. You scold yourself and get up from your bed, nervously checking the window in case the wolf is still there. You doubt it, but today is your fishing day, so you need to be sure the wolf won't tear you apart the moment you step outside your shields. You try to remember where you put your dagger - as if it will help you anyhow - but then your panicked brain remembers.

There is a wolfsbane bush just to the right of your hut. You can rub it on your dagger and then it will hurt the wolf. So you plan to make a small detour to the wolfsbane bush before heading out to the river.

You quickly bathe, but the temperature of the water irritates you: you're unstable, so your magic is unstable, so one moment the water is warm and the next it boils you alive and the next it's freezing cold. And all of this because of the wolf.

You start the fire for the kettle with matches, cautious of your magic, and while it boils, you check the windows again. No sign of the wolf.

The basket is on the floor still, and you gently pick it up to sort your things out: Caitlyn's baked goods and Vi's booze go into your pantry (you leave one of the pastries for yourself on the table) and the moon peppers go to the still room where you create all of your potions and medicines. The floor is dirty and you don't mind a little work, so you get a cloth and start washing the floors.

Sometimes you forget how much you rely on your magic, but now, knowing you can set the hut on fire or flood it completely, you have to put your hands to work. It's calming, actually, the repetitiveness of it, so you wash your floors clean and only then sit to have your breakfast.

You get ready as if you're going to war, putting multiple daggers on yourself, strapping them to your thighs and smaller ones to your ankles - you're not taking any chances. Usually you wear a cotton vest, but today you dug up a leather vest that is way harder to tear. You put a sac on your shoulders and go out.

The air is colder today, and you look around in case there's any threats - one threat. You even touch the ground, hoping the woods will show you where the wolf is to avoid it, but the forest ignores you.

You make your way to the wolfsbane bush and it's not there. You are sure it was there yesterday, you walk on this trail all the time. But it's not there anymore, and you know it's woods playing tricks on you, and it makes you furious.

You're literally helpless against this wolf and this was the only hope for having a chance at survival. You're scared and you are spiralling, almost cursing the forest for being such a bitch, not understanding why they would do this to you.

Why makes you stop in a cold terror. Because you know perfectly why the woods are not giving you any kind of weapons - you don't hurt others. You just don't, and you don't poison your blades with something that can actually kill a werewolf, and you don't strap a bunch of knives to yourself or think like a warrior.

Yes, you're petty, but you're not vengeful anymore.

You sigh and look at the sky.

“Yeah, okay. I'm sorry.” You grump. “But have you seen this fucking beast?”

The leaves rustle.

“Oh fuck off.” You huff when you get a wave of laughter from the wind.

A witch. There is a witch in the woods and Abby can't be more irritated. Witches are not someone she'd consider nice, they're vicious and you might be the weakest spawn of Satan if you ran from her.

Abby wanted to get some moon peppers for herself to heal faster, but you just had to cut every one of them. She smelled you when she came to the bush and didn't pay it any mind because witches don't have a distinct smell, no. They have creepy fucking eyes that glow in the dark and when you looked at her, Abby felt not only threatened since you were on her territory, but also pissed off, because her moon peppers were taken by a fucking witch.

So Abby wanted to kill you, and if it wasn't for your stupid shields she definitely would - she is hurt, hungry and alone, and she needs you gone. If Abby thought she'd stand a chance against you, she'd have tried to maybe talk to you, but your presence in this forest while she is desperately trying not to die is a threat she is not willing to entertain. She is either going to kill you or you're going to kill her, and this is it.

Witches are notorious for being evil manipulative bastards who blood bind anything that has blood, and Abby had some of her packmates bound to a witch as guard dogs because they needed a potion to survive a wolf fever in the winter. They didn't die from the fever but they sure as hell might've died from serving this witch. But Isaac was furious and of course they went as a pack and tore the witch apart, releasing their packmates from her bounds.

So no, Abby is not planning on being nice to you, she is planning on destroying you. She is still injured and there's blood all over her den, she can't risk you finding it and using it for your own gain.

Abby sighs and crawls out of the den, sniffing around: she is so hungry. She needs to go for a hunt, but she is too weak for it yet. Her hind legs are aching, there's multiple wounds on her sides that she should treat in human form, but Abby is scared she won't be able to handle it yet and it will put her at risk. There is no smell of her former pack, so Abby crawls out further, now able to look around: this part of the woods seems and smells safe. Abby groans and stands up, trying her best to not whine from pain in her body: not only her wounds hurt, but after you tripped her last night she hit her head pretty hard on a root, so now she is also dizzy.

Abby is still scared she will die, which is a sign of, well, dying, so she clings to her life with her claws and makes herself move. The river is not so far away from the den, and Abby is halfway there when she picks up your scent.

It's not that Abby already knows your scent, it's just the only scent with a heartbeat that doesn't smell like another animal, since animals don't smell like lavender and soap. Abby doesn't doubt that it's you because she can somehow feel magic around you, and it makes her tingle in a very creepy way.

Well, hasn't this day just gotten so much better? Abby can just kill you and eat you - actually she is apprehensive of eating a witch, but she is desperate - and this will be the end of her troubles. And your shields will fall, so she could go and loot you. Perfect plan, she thinks.

Now, a giant alpha wolf is not the most quiet animal, especially since Abby is so heavily injured, but Abby tries her best to go as silent as possible so she could first figure out where you are and second - figure out how to attack you. The luck is on her side: you're sitting on the shore with your back to her, so Abby can just jump you and bite your head off with its unnerving eyes.

The thought of finally having some meat makes Abby salivate, but she keeps focused on being quiet - she needs to ambush you, otherwise you'll notice her. So she moves slowly, until you're in her direct line so she could make the jump and kill you.

Abby flexes and shifts her weight before the jump, but exactly when her paws are inches from your body, you turn your head, shriek and your arms fly up in surprise.

The next thing Abby knows is a strong wave of water knocking her back to the ground, while her nose gets overwhelmed by the smell of fear. Abby's animalistic side is roaring from both irritation and satisfaction: even if she didn't get her prey, at least it's terrified of her.

Your heart beats so fast in Abby's ears it is almost too loud, and she sees how your fingers twitch. It makes her quickly get back on her paws and growl at you.

“Don't you fucking growl at me, wolf.” You try to sound offended, but your voice is shaking. “You came to this forest, I live here.”

Well, you have a point, but because you're a witch, Abby isn't going to listen to it.

“Turn back, I know you're a were.”

Fat chance. Abby growls at you again and makes a few steps forward to threaten you.

“Or don't.” You murmur in a shaky voice. “Leave me alone, okay? I won't bother you, so don't bother me.”

Again, you have a point. Again, Abby will ignore it.

Abby comes closer and you stumble back - are you really so weak you can't fight her? - until you trip and fall into the water.

You can't help the feeling that the wolf is laughing at you as you sit in the river, your nets gone, soaked in cold water. It's humiliating beyond belief, and you're really tempted to water whip the wolf, but the backlash is not worth it.

You stand up, huffing and puffing in annoyance, and pull all the water out of your clothes until you're dry.

“Asshole.” You tell the wolf, and it not only growls but also moves closer, ready to attack again. “Fuck off.” Yes, you're shaking, but you can't just give up.

The wolf growls so loud you feel it vibrate in your bones, holy shit.

“If you jump me again, I'll trip you again.” You threaten and the wolf stops growling so loudly.

“I'm fishing here, and I'm not planning on moving. Deal with it.”

The growling resumes and you sigh.

“If I give you a fish, will you leave me alone?”

The wolf hesitates, and you're hopeful for a moment, but then it growls again.

No, you think. You're not moving. You weave your magic and wolf snarls at you, but you only create shields in case it will try to attack you again. Then you sit on the shore and pull your nets back where they're supposed to be, playing it cool, waiting for the fish to get trapped in. The wolf circles you and it's terrifying, you're literally sweating from fear, but you don't give up.

It's tense, but you still sit at least an hour until you get three fish in your net, hyper-aware of the wolf - thankfully, it left a few minutes ago, and you let out a relaxed sigh. You did it. You stood your ground.

Abby is so pissed off it's unbelievable: she is hungry and there's food right in front of her, protected by stupid shields. She tries not to think what can happen if she eats a witch - will it drive her mad? Who knows. But you're also fishing, and Abby is teased with it. The offer you made was tempting until she understood it was a deal and Abby wasn't a fool for making a deal with a witch. So she spent some time just to bask in your smell of fear and laugh at you trying to appear as if Abby's presence doesn't make you want to shit your pants. It's amusing, honestly.

But then Abby feels how she is getting tired - she is in no shape to play games right now. She really needs some food if she wants to survive the night. So Abby goes up the river just far enough to still smell you in case you try anything, and goes into the water, trying to catch some fish with her mouth.

Abby is not a bear, so her fishing skills are not as precise, but Abby is decent: wolves eat fish too, especially if they're alone, like Abby right now. Abby catches the fish, sinking her teeth through its scales, and brings her catch to the shore. The fish still jumps, but it's far enough to not get back into water, so Abby returns and continues her hunt.

It takes Abby a while and she is quite exhausted by the time she gets around twenty fish, so she shakes off the water and goes to her pile of tasty, mouth watering food. Abby is salivating as she smells the fresh fish so she digs in, almost choking on the first one. She coughs, but doesn’t stop chewing, too desperate and starving. She is still on guard, her ear perked up, but the food calms her down and makes her feel lazy. Abby is very tempted to just nap right next to her rapidly disappearing pile of fish, but she knows it’s not safe, so she makes herself lazily walk back to her den.

When Abby smells you close to her den, she sees red. Suddenly her lazy walk turns into aggressive running and she attacks you immediately when she sees how you kneel down on the ground in front of her den. This is not just a direct threat to her as a wolf, it’s a real threat of being blood bound, and Abby is terrified by the mere thought of it.

Of course your shields save your ass, but as Abby lands on her stomach, you also fall from the impact of a giant wolf attacking you. Abby gets up and growls, baring her teeth as a promise to kill you, so you scoot back.

“Do you live here?” You ask as if it’s a surprise. Yeah, like you didn’t know it by the sheer amount of blood around. Abby jumps again and bounces off again, but she is so angry at you and your shrieks are the best music to her ears. “But it’s a bear den! You dumb fucking- Find a better place for yourself, because the bear will come back and I don’t think your furry ass can fight it.” You spit out as you get up quickly and weave shields around yourself.

Abby barks at you and you jump in fear, backing off. You then walk backwards as Abby moves forward, practically kicking you out from her territory.

“Okay-okay, I’m going. Fucking creep.” You murmur under your breath and Abby growls at your audacity: you came to her, not the other way around. Entitled bloodthirsty bastard.

You turn around and start walking back to your hut, but Abby waits until she can’t hear your heartbeat anymore, and only then she goes back to the den.

Your words about the bear coming back actually worry Abby, but she doesn’t have any strength to go and look for another spot - and since she put her scent everywhere, the bear will be angry anyway, so maybe she will have to fight it.

Fuck, Abby thinks. She is weak and dizzy and all she wants is to take a nap and rest until her body feels better, not think about fighting a bear.

So Abby crawls back into her den, wraps around herself, burying her nose in her tail, and falls asleep.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #moon peppers

168 notes · View notes

bones-of-a-rabbit · 6 months

Text

king of day Sun and lord of nights Moon, bonding with Cursed-AU Y/N,,,,,, bc they are simps in every au i make sorry i dont make the rules (BONUS: AU LORE/INFO BELOW, ALONG WITH ANOTHER [story-relevant] DOODLE!)

Some lore about the curse au, copy and pasted from the discord bc im lazy and im very very sorrys fjfkhdskjh:

Okay so. Casting magic takes energy, bc this is an angsty au

The bigger-more complex-more powerful the spell is, the more energy it takes. The most powerful spells can take as much energy as in multiple human lives. There’s legends of spells cast during wars or battles that fell entire armies at once purely just by being cast

NORMALLY, when casting a spell, the magic comes from the world/plant life/living things around the caster

A curse is a kind of Forbidden Magic that can span generations. If one casts a curse that the cursed one will never quench their thirst, or they will never have enough sleep (simple curses for example), the curse could be passed down to their children, sometimes for multiple generations

A curse is ALSO a kind of spell that goes out of its way to deliberately alter the future and continues to- it’s basically a spell that’s constantly working when most spells are more like they last for a few seconds or maybe a minute or two then they’re done and the magic is used up and gone

So if you’re cursed to never feel warmth, there’s magic around you or in you that is constantly sapping the warmth from you or putting chills into you. You can’t see it, but it’s always there, even if just in small amounts

So when a curse is cast, it takes a lot of energy. Like, multiple human lives’ worth

There are ways to circumvent the possibility of killing the people around you (or yourself), like having some animals recently sacrificed, which is the most commonly heard of version

But. Sometimes, very rarely. One might cast a curse on a whim, without planning on it or really considering the series of events leading up to it or following

Cursed AU Reader did that once. Cursed someone in a fit of rage or passion

They were standing in a field, ready for a harvest festival, at the time

The fields withered and died and it’ll take years for them to get back to being fit enough to grow anything in

The mark of a cursed witch, which is a sign from Wiccan culture meant for containing(?), basically keeps the Marked Person from taking any magic from the world around them

The only energy they can use is the energy their physical body contains- and if they use too much or too frequently, they’ll kill themselves in the process

Basically it’s a way of making sure the caster can never use enough magic to really do much of anything sjdgdhdhd

and,,,,, the concept art for a moment i might write abt at some point,,

228 notes · View notes

beautifulplaceofyouth · 7 days

Text

JJK FF/ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER TEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: 15+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. Dead bodies - corpses and much blood. JK kills everyone who dares to hurt his princess. MAKES PROMISES TO BE SAFE. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: Finally a small update, guys! I will stop making excuses and will hope you will not kill me for vanishing like every time I promise coming back sooner but still...yeah. I hope you forgive me.

You were standing by the large window.

The castle’s walls seemed to surround you.

The windows let out on a long stretch of fields leading to the border of the woods.

Since your fallen angel left, it has been three hours since Jungkook disappeared. Three more hours without food; three hours without hearing news or seeing anyone besides the servants running around like little heads in a tornado.

It made you restless.

Your legs started moving before your mind did. The white dress was fluttering behind you while you walked through the corridor.

It’s been three hours.

Three more hours and no updates. Your thoughts were racing and your stomach was growling. But there was nothing you could do, nothing you can say, until Jungkook returns.

As you turned the corner into the hall where the servants and guards resided, you stopped suddenly. Something was wrong.

You frowned.

As you neared the palace exit, a witch-maid stopped you before you can leave further.

“I’m sorry, my queen but the king didn’t allowed you to leave the castle for safety reasons. We still are under attack,” the female servant said apologetically. “Please return to your chambers.”

She tried to take your hands, which you quickly pushed away.

What were they thinking?

That Jungkook would come back in less than ten minutes?

No. Jungkook wouldn’t. Not now.

He is probably dead. Killed by vampires, maybe. Maybe captured in battle and taken prisoner. What if he got hurt?

No. He’d never let a vampire touch him unless…unless…

You ran outside and searched in every part of the grounds. No sign of him anywhere.

Then why the hell haven’t you heard anything yet?!

‘I’m not letting any vampire near my guard,’ you thought fiercely. ‘And if they do get near my angel, I swear to God...’

Looking up, the sun is barely visible. A thin veil of clouds covering half the sky, dark grey.

There was no sign of any vampire in sight.

Where the heck is everyone if there is attack?!

Tears welled in your eyes as you sat down on the ground and leaned your back against the stone wall of the castle’s exterior. There was a small pond a few meters to your side, a beautiful blue lake reflecting the sky above it. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, casting an eery orange light over everything in the vicinity.

Your heart was beating fast, threatening to burst through your ribcage. Tears stinging your eyelids, you felt your cheeks getting wet.

You wiped your tears off angrily. You are being foolish.

Jungkook wouldn't be dead. He can fight for himself but he knows how much you love him and if something happened to him…

Oh god, please don't let something happen to him. He’s strong but he's too young to die. Please God, let him be okay. Let him survive.

Jungkook’s POV

The sun was setting when Jungkook flew over the woods of his territory with his sword in hand, prepared to defend his home.

As he descended closer, he noticed many vampires fighting against the guards on the other end of the forest clearing.

With the sharp edge of his sword ready to strike, he landed heavily between several vampires, sending them flying to different parts of the field.

His presence was enough to scare most of them away, leaving two vampires with their backs turned towards him who weren’t afraid of him whatsoever.

Without hesitation Jungkook lunged forward with his sword and stabbed one of the vampires in the back with all his force.

His opponent fell, unconscious and bleeding, but still alive.

Jungkook ignored him as he jumped to the other vampire, slashing his blade across his throat before landing behind the first one again to stab him in the back.

Two vampires had surrounded Jungkook.

One with blonde hair, the other with red. They charged at him simultaneously.

Jungkook dodged each of them with ease.

Suddenly, the blood lust filled air vanished.

A cold, piercing sound echoed through the forest.

In a matter of seconds, the second vampire was dead. His eyes staring wide open as if asking for help and pain. The red head also fell lifelessly onto the ground.

Blood flowing from his neck, he didn’t have a chance to scream.

Slicing remaining vampires in half, the blood was the only thing left on him when he finally finished. Seeing his guards dead, he could only watch them fall and the bodies turn pale and gray, their skin wrinkling and turning into dust.

The other vampires that were still around looked at him with horror and shock.

They wanted to run. They wanted to kill him.

But they couldn’t move, not a single muscle in their bodies dared to move; not even their hearts.

“You’ve been warned,” he snarled,” Attack what’s mine again, you will be taken as my trophies for all eternity."

The vampires began fleeing after that, screaming in fear and terror.

Jungkook took out the swords he used in the fight, sheathing them neatly once again, before turning to look around.

Death’s scent was everywhere. Blood was smeared everywhere, along with some pieces of flesh scattered throughout the area.

The bodies of his guards lay sprawled all over the ground. Their faces twisted and bloody, covered in dirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Now since the danger was gone, the only thought on his mind was you.

When he opened his eyes, he could already see you.

You were walking out of the forest, your face pale and frightened.

He didn’t need to look at you to know that the blood from these deaths must have affected you greatly. As if sensing him, your eyes met his, a look of complete devastation and sorrow filling their depths.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in fear, looking around the field as though searching for enemy still lurking by but there was no one left alive except for the king himself.

His jaw clenched when he spotted you, knowing you have disobeyed his order for you to stay at the castle. His guards haven’t stopped you from leaving and now you’re here, in the middle of the battlefield which is no place for someone like you.

Looking like an angel in a white dress, Jungkook looked ready to kill again when you slowly approached him.

The wind was playing with his raven hair, dancing through his bangs and causing small droplets of sweat to roll down his body.

He looked like a predator waiting for its prey to come close and bite it.

Your gaze flickered between the corpses laid on the ground, their eyes frozen in fear and pain.

Y/n POV

Seeing your angel in the middle of that made you realize how strong he really is.

The blood was on his armor and even his face scarf. His eyes were the only thing holding you steady as you dared to walk forward.

His chest was rising up and down.

“What are you doing here, princess?” he asked harshly, making your body shiver.

You looked down at the ground, ashamed of yourself.

Why were you so careless? You shouldn’t be here! It’s dangerous. Too dangerous to be out here alone!

How long have you been standing here? Did you hear the screams of vampires earlier? Did you hear them running away?

Did you hear them dying? Did you understand what was happening?

Your hands trembled as you looked at the bodies laying on the floor; lifeless.

“Answer me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess. Why are you here? Answer me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Your heart thumping painfully inside your chest.

After a moment, you answered in a weak voice, “I just wanted to go for a little walk. I lost track of time and ended up here.”

His grip on your chin tightened and his lips curved in anger.

“You’re such a liar, love.”

Before you know, he kneels in front of you. Putting his sword on the ground, he takes your hands in his.

“You shouldn’t be here. What you did was dangerous. How can I protect you when you don’t listen to me? You would have been captured on the way here, possibly killed by those bloodsucking monsters!”

“I’m sorry Jungkook. But I just wanted to make sure no one hurt you. I know you can defend yourself just fine but…”

“It doesn’t stop you from worrying. And I appreciate it very much, but you don’t have to do this. I am stronger than these creatures.”

“But you don’t always have to be. You’ll get attacked by them sooner or later, you know. You won't be able to take them down with a sword on your own. Sooner or later, they'll find you.”

“No they won’t. This forest is protected by powerful magic. My kingdom is safe as long I’m here.” He explained, trying to reassure you.

“But not enough to attack this place?” You inquired quietly.

“Someone tipped me off. That’s why they got inside. No one without my magic permission can go through the barrier of this land. Its separates the human world.”

“So they can still be out there and continue to attack,” you said bitterly.

“That’s why I must kill them all.” Jungkook declared, determination in his voice.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to escape and fall down your cheeks at any moment.

You quickly wiped away any evidence of your weakness before looking into his eyes with a determined look of your own.

Before you can chicken out, you step closer to him when he is back to standing position. His eyes darken when he notices the movement, his nostrils flaring when your scent washes over with the death smell all over the field.

It was like a flower has bloomed in the middle of the grave, filling his whole being with the sweet fragrance of your happiness and life.

You stood on your tiptoes while he stood on his, looking at him intently in the eyes.

His gaze never wavers. Neither does yours.

Neither of you breaks eye contact until finally you pull him towards you, hooking one finger underneath his mask, playing with the seam of the fabric slowly.

“What are you doing, darling?” His voice is husky, full of desire for you even it was wrong in that moment.

How can you touch him like this after he has slaughtered every vampire? He had blood on his hands and corpses still laid all around you so how come you’re not afraid to touch him?

“Making sure you’re not hurt,” you whisper, lifting his mask to reveal a strong jawline who can cut steel and lips that look tempting yet deadly.

He stares back at you, the intensity in his eyes making you want to drown in his eyes forever. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him tightly, his hand caressing your lower back, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin cloth of your dress.

“You’re making this harder for me, princess. You can’t stay here longer. It’s dangerous,” he says softly, leaning closer to you, his hot breath fanning your cold skin as he whispers.

"I don’t care.” You say, closing the gap between your lips and pressing them softly onto his.

At first, he tried to push you away.

But the minute you parted your lips to deepen the kiss, he gave up.

As your tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting each other, you wrapped your arms around his neck while he gripped both sides of your waist.

He lifted you easily in his arm and you placed your legs around his hips, holding on tightly when you felt yourself getting dizzy and lightheaded.

Lifting up into the sky, you almost scream when you realize that he has intended to fly you back to the castle. His wings even through the mist shine with the specks of light that peeked from the clouds.

Not daring to look down because of your fear of heights, some minutes later you brace yourself for landing when he flaps his wings to stop his speed abruptly, causing you to cling onto him like a koala.

When he puts you down gently on your feet, you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Jungkook pulled you in his arms, cradling you close and soothing you as best he could.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t want to startle you like that. I just can’t imagine you walking through that mess. It must have been terrifying.” He whispered tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, melting at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice calling you baby in that loving way of his, feeling warmth blossom inside your chest.

Feeling safe. Protected.

“You need to stay indoors while I go back to finish the job. Someone still can be lurking in the shadows and watching us so we have to take precautions,” he says sternly, grabbing the hilt of his sword and taking a few steps backward as he looked behind him.

“Come back to me safe, please.” You pleaded.

He sighed as he turned around, walking towards you again.

He reached out to caress your cheek once more before giving you a soft smile.

“I promise you.”

You nodded as he took off with a flap of his wings. The air surrounding him seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, the wind caressing his skin like a lover as his figure disappears among the thick mist in the distance.

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #royal guard #virgin princess #Princess Royal #fallen angel #paranormal romance #bangtan boys #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfction #historical romantic fiction #bts fluff

112 notes · View notes

mummawitch · 6 months

Text

Sabbats

Witches, particularly those who follow modern Pagan or Wiccan traditions, often celebrate a series of holidays, known as Sabbats, that are based on the cycles of the seasons and nature. These holidays are divided into two categories: the Greater Sabbats, which are often associated with the equinoxes and solstices, and the Lesser Sabbats, which mark the points between the equinoxes and solstices. Here's an overview of the eight major witchcraft holidays:

1. Samhain (pronounced SOW-IN or SAH-WIN): Celebrated on October 31st (Northern Hemisphere) or May 1st (Southern Hemisphere). Samhain marks the beginning of the Witches' Wheel of the Year. It's a time to honor the dead, reflect on the past, and prepare for the winter months.

2. Yule (pronounced YOOL): Celebrated around the winter solstice (usually December 20th-23rd for Northern Hemisphere, or June 20th-23rd Southern Hemisphere), Yule is a festival of light and rebirth. It's a time to celebrate the return of the sun's strength and the lengthening of days.

3. Imbolc (pronounced IM-BULK or IM-BULG): Celebrated around February 1st-2nd (Northern Hemisphere) or August 1st-2nd (Southern Hemisphere). Imbolc marks the first signs of spring. It's a time to honor the goddess Brigid and welcome the returning life in nature.

4. Ostara (pronounced OST-AR-A): Celebrated around the spring equinox (usually March 20th-23rd for NH, or September 20th-23rd SH), Ostara is a celebration of balance and the arrival of spring. It's a time to honor the goddess Eostre and the fertility of the land.

5. Beltane (pronounced BELL-TAIN): Celebrated on May 1st (NH) or October 1st (SH). Beltane marks the peak of spring and the beginning of summer. It's a time to celebrate fertility, love, and the union of the god and goddess.

6. Litha (pronunced LEE-THA): Celebrated around the summer solstice (usually June 20th-23rd NH, or December 20th-23rd SH). Litha is a time of maximum light and the celebration of the sun's power.

7. Lughnasadh (pronounced LOO-NAH-SA, also called Lammas, pronounced LAH-MUS): Celebrated around August 1st (NH), or February 1st (SH). Lughnasadh is the first of the three harvest festivals. It's a time to give thanks for the first fruits of the harvest.

8. Mabon (pronunced MAH-BON) : Celebrated around the autumn equinox (usually September 20th-23rd NH, March 20th-23rd SH). Mabon is a time of balance and the second harvest festival. It's a time to give thanks for the abundance of the Earth.

These holidays are often celebrated with rituals, feasts, and various customs, including the crafting of seasonal decorations and the lighting of bonfires or candles. It's important to note that the specific dates for these holidays can vary slightly depending on tradition and location, as they are often calculated based on astronomical events.

#witchcraft #witch #green witch #tarot witch #witch community #witchythings #pagan witch #witch aesthetic #witchcore #witchblr

150 notes · View notes

yurimother · 9 months

Text

The 2023 Yuri Guide - Visual Novels

Your ultimate guide to the best Yuri content with over 200 curated titles from every genre and medium.

Blackberry Honey

• Shakaijin • Drama • Romance

Forced to work for fourteen hours a day, with little chance to rest, Lorina, the newest maid to the Lennard family, is bullied by the senior maids and the youngest Lennard daughter. One of the only maids who deigns to speak to Lorina is the mysterious Taohua – but Lorina wishes she wouldn’t. Her aloof, almost cat-like personality, coupled with her peculiar complexion, eyes, and name, have inspired more than a few rumors around the Shropshire countryside that she might be a witch. Lorina knows she should keep her distance from Taohua, and she wants to most desperately… but maybe there’s a pinch of truth to all the rumors, because she soon finds herself under the older woman’s spell.

~Developed and Published by ebi-hime~ Available on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, PC, Mac, and Linux

Black Closet

• School • Drama • Romance • Mystery

A noir story that places you in control as the student council president. To protect yourself and the school’s reputation, you must command your minions to solve mysteries by investigating scenes, looking for clues, performing surveillance, and interrogating students. Remember, never let your attention falter, no matter what sweet nothing your minions whisper or sly glances they give you. Because one of them… is a traitor.

~Developed and Published by Hanako Games~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

Butterfly Soup

• School • Slice of Life • Sports

Laugh-out-loud funny and featuring characters that each feels like one of your best friends! This gentle visual novel by Brianna Lei follows a group of four, queer Asian high school students living in California. The girls join an all-female baseball club together and spend their time playing the game, falling in love and memeing. A sequel, Butterfly Soup 2, is available for PC, Mac, and Linux.

~Developed and Published by Brianna Lei~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

The Curse of Kudan

• School • Horror • Mystery • Yuri Harem • Friends to Lovers

Feelings start to bud between student Sakuya Kudan and culinary instructor Touko Shima after coincidence brings them into one another’s orbit. However, their peaceful lives are abruptly shattered when Touko sees Kudan, the harbinger of calamity. The rumors say that anyone who lays eyes on her is doomed within seven days. The hours tick down as Sakuya rushes find a way to combat the curse, and her search brings her to the academy’s Occult Research Club and its president, Koto Ashinaki. Now she must face off against the unknown in order to protect the people she loves…

~Developed and Published by SukeraSparo~ Available on PC

The Expression Amrilato

• Isekai • Slice of Life • Romance

"...Why is the sky pink...?" Rin should know this area well, but the unreadable letters on the signs and the strange language the people are speaking have made things unrecognizable. Suddenly transported to a parallel world, Rin is saved when Ruka, a girl so cute she could be an idol, appears and extends a helping hand. Now a guest in Ruka’s home, Rin, and by extension the player, must learn Esperanto through interactive lessons to navigate this strange world. This is the story, pure and sometimes frustrating, of two girls intertwined through their fumbling efforts to communicate.

The sequel, Distant Memoraĵo, continues Rin and Ruka’s story and romance and reveals the secrets of Ruka’s past. Two storeis of the struggles that come with attempting to connect with one another across age, language, and even worlds.

~Developed by SukeraSparo, Published by MangaGamer~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

The Fairy's Song

• Romance • Fantasy • Adventure

Marnie is a young goth girl with a less-than-cheery disposition. Her parents are going away for a week of sun and surf in Bordeaux, and Marnie has been palmed off in her grandmother’s care in the backwater English village Fenchapel.

While exploring, Marnie happens upon a young female knight in a glade, clutching a sword. The knight has been sleeping for many centuries, but Marnie (inadvertently) awakes her. The young knight calls herself Leofe. She does not know why she went to sleep, but she knows that the forest itself is plagued by a horrible curse, and she is the only one who can lift it. The sequel, The Fairy’s Secret is also available on PC, Linux and Android.

~Developed and Published by ebi-hime~ Available on PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, Android, PC, and Linux

Fatal Twelve

• Isekai • Supernatural • Adventure • Mystery

One day, Shishimai Rinka dies in an explosion—yet she finds herself continuing to live her ordinary life as if nothing had happened at all. That is, until a few days later, when she encounters the Goddess Parca in the dream world.

"Good evening, my lovely little slaves to fate." Rinka discovers that she is one of 12 people the Goddess has invited to her game. A game that could undo their deaths. In this maelstrom of life and death, Rinka must face a myriad different emotions, as well as the truth behind her own demise. What will her final decision be...?

~Developed by LYCORYS, Published by Sekai Project & PROTOTYPE~ Available on PS4, Nintendo Switch, PC, Mac, and Linux

Flowers (Series)

• School • Adventure • Drama • Romance • Mystery • Multiple Couples • Yuri Harem • Friends to Lovers

In the middle of a forest isolated from the rest of the world lies Saint Angraecum Academy, an all-girls school. This private boarding school is isolated from the rest of the world, allowing the girls who attend the space and freedom to develop into young ladies under the guidance of their teachers. This is where Suoh Shirahane, a painfully shy girl, will begin her first year of high school. Follow her and her classmates in this four-game series as she navigates new friendships and attempts to unravel the many mysteries at the academy, including occult rituals and the mysterious disappearance of fellow students, all while trying to pass her classes. Suoh must learn to overcome her anxieties as she navigates new friendships. These bonds of friendship grow even stronger within the academy's special Amitié program, and Suoh's heart will open for the first time. But is it okay to like a girl?

~Developed by Innocent Grey, Published by JAST~ Available on PC

GOOD LUCK BABY!

• Mystery • Fantasy • Comedy

Japan, 2002. Bad luck is something we all experience - but for high schooler Hifumi Tanaka, it’s become an unwanted way of life.

Broken alarm clocks, lost wallets and bumped elbows; she starts wondering what she did to deserve this unrelenting misfortune. Her luck finally changes for the better upon meeting Kasumi Itou - a sunny delinquent with a heart of gold. But just as their mutual crush begins to bloom, the girls find a surprising sight awaiting them on Kasumi’s doorstep…a baby with wings and a halo!

Hifumi, Kasumi, and their newfound friends embark on the journey of a lifetime to solve the mystery behind this baby; kicking off a chain of events that affects the fate of the world itself. But with the ruthless Empress Metis following their every move, will good luck be enough to save them from the ultimate evil?

~Developed and Published by Noodletub Games~ Available on PC

Heart of the Woods

• Adventure • Drama • Romance • Supernatural • Mystery • Multiple Couples

Maddie Raines has had enough. After years of serving as manager, editor, and general business-handler for her best friend Tara's popular paranormal vlog channel, she's finally ready to move forward with her own life. But when she agrees to take one last trip with Tara to the mysterious village of Eysenfeld, she's suddenly surrounded by wondrous and dangerous supernatural events. One in particular captivates Maddie in a way she’s never been before: the ghost of a young woman, Abigail.

~Developed by Studio Élan, Published by Sekai Project and Sekai Games~ Available on Nintendo Switch, PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, PC, Mac, and Linux

Heaven Will Be Mine

• Sci-fi • Action • Romance

It’s 1981, and the dream of a new home in space for all humanity is dead. After fighting for decades against an intangible and ephemeral existential threat from beyond the solar system, Earth command has declared the war effort a huge waste of time. The honeymoon is over, and a future of glittering cities across the solar system and cosmic battles between giant robots just isn’t going to happen. The outcome is clear: it’s time to come home.

But we don’t care. Giant robots may not make any sense. Celestial cities across the solar system are silly dreams. They are, however, extremely awesome. We, the girls who were raised in space, to be special and incredible and pave the way for a new future, aren’t giving up so easily. We’ve got invincible Ship-Selves for ferrying human bodies through time and space, and we have the weight and power to make a fantasy of the future real.

~Developed and Published by Pillow Fight & Worst Girls Games~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

Letters From a Rainy Day -Oceans and Lace-

• School • Romance • Drama • Mystery • Senapi/Kouhai

The prestigious private girls’ school, Kikyou Academy, educates young ladies from elementary age to university. With cell phones forbidden on school grounds, letter writing is a pastime for many of the girls… for better or for worse.

Student Mikoto Kurahashi receives a disturbing blackmail letter, forcing her to ask out younger student Shiori Minato to protect her sister. The story switches between the two girls’ viewpoints, displaying both sides of this unconventional romance as Shiori works to discover the reason and the perpetrator behind the blackmail and Mikoto longs to get her new partner to engage with her more.

~Developed by Lily Spinel, Published by Hublots and mirai works~ Available on PC

Lilycle Rainbow Stage!!!

• School • Slice of Life • Comedy • Multiple Couples • Friends to Lovers

Sweet, heartwarming, and bursting with cheerful, colorful illustrations features a swarm of adorable Yuri couples. As every character’s perspective is shown, you could say that they’re all the protagonist! A love triangle between two friends and a recent graduate, a young maid and her precocious mistress, student council rivals, a wallflower and her socialite companion, and more. This Yuri buffet is overflowing with cuteness!

~Developed by PARTICLE, Published by MangaGamer~ Available on PC

Linghua (Series)

• School • Drama • Romance • Multiple Couples • Fated Lovers • Tragedy

A Yuri visual novel series about young couples bound by fate and tragedy at an all-girls’ private academy. In Melancholy Love, an elite student, born into privilege, and a delinquent who longs to break free of her chains meet amidst the garden of scented dreams. In Symbiotic Love, a devastated Zihua discovers a mysterious diary after the death of her lover, Jisuo. One by one excepts begin to appear, revealing the truth behind the tragedy.

~Developed by White Dew Game, Published by Kikai Digital~ Available on PC and Mac

Lingua Fleur Lily

• Drama

The introvert Yuyi arrives at school every day with a secret deep in her heart, a truth she has kept hidden from everyone, even her beloved old tutor. But when she is paired with the excitable Yile, the eager girl helps Yuyi come out of her shell, confronting the bittersweet memories of her past and coming to terms with her identity. This tender hidden and emotional hidden gem is not a romance story, but a story of healing and accepting oneself, a gift given to Yuyi by an earnest and caring friend. Its gentle illustrations and enchanting soundtrack heighten this simple but poignant story.

~Developed and published by Narrator and STORIA~ Available on PC

A Little Lily Princess

• School • Drama • Historical • Slice of Life

Sara Crewe was raised like a princess by her doting Papa, always given the best of everything. Now that she is old enough, she must be sent away to boarding school in a foreign land, relying on her love of books and fairytales to help her make friends. But, what would happen to a little princess if she lost everything? This Yuri retelling of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic children’s novel gives players the option to plan Sara’s daily activities and bond with her peers, leading to several potential romances.

~Developed by Hanabira, Published by Hanako Games~ Available on Nintendo Switch, PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, PC, Mac, and Linux

Mizuchi 白蛇心傳

• Fantasy • Romance • Slice of Life • Mystery

Abruptly finding herself at the bottom of a snake pit, an impoverished girl named Linh is bound and helpless for a crime she did not commit. Left to the mercy of the village snake god, a mysterious entity appears before her, offering to save her in exchange for her soul. Finding herself in a new reality, she is torn between staying with the beautiful temptress, Ai, who had rescued her from death, and the resourceful wanderer, Jinhai, who promises to set her free.

~Developed and Published by Aikasa Collective~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

a new life.

• Romance • Slice of Life • Tragedy • Love at First Sight

A short, simple, and beautiful experience. A classic love story: Meet, marry, grow old. But when your loved one hurts you, what do you do? Is it better to love and be hurt, than never love at all? From their first meeting in college until the bittersweet end, this short visual story is a beautiful and emotional highlight reel of two women in love.

~Developed and Published by Angela He~ Available on iOS, Android, PC, Mac, and Linux

Nurse Love (Series)

• Fantasy • Slice of Life • Horror • Mystery • Yuri Harem • Slow Burn

Surviving a near-death experience as a child left Kaori Sawai with the dream to become a nurse and heal others. And today is finally the day, as she leaves school to join the Yurigahama Hospital, mending injuries with the magical touch of her hands and navigating sweet, strange, and exceptionally disturbing relationships with her quirky coworkers in Nurse Love Syndrom.

Set in the same world, Nurse Love Addiction follows Asuka Osachi, a ditzy and easy-going girl, who graduates from high school and enrolls in Teito Nursing School along with her younger sister, Nao. With their two classmates Itsuki and Sakuya and their instructor Kaede, the girls will experience what it means to be an adult... and a nurse.

~Developed by Kogado Studio, Published by Degica~ Available on Nintendo Switch and PC

OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbandos

• Comedy • Slice of Life • Romance • Already a Couple • Love at First Sight

Akuru Hayahoshi is an unlucky otaku office worker who just can't pull her husbando in the gacha game she's obsessed with, no matter how much money she throws at it.

Until one day, she runs into the garishly gorgeous and freakishly lucky Ren Furutachi. A series of misunderstandings causes Ren to full-on pursue Akuru. One thing leads to another, and in order to bring her husbando home, she ends up... bringing Ren home?!

In the sequel ~Love･or･die~ a fit of jealousy and more misunderstandings lead to a Akuru unthinking accepting one of Ren’s many joke proposals… and by the time she realizes what she's done, it's too late. Ren is in bridezilla mode and starting to plan the wedding!

~Developed by SukeraSomero, Published by Hublots and mirai works~ Available on Nintendo Switch and PC, iOS and Android

Perfect Gold: The Alchemy of Happiness

• Fantasy • Romance • Enemies to Lovers

Marion LaRue is not having a fun day at all. What was meant to be a harmless little fire turned into an explosion that has her stuck in detention, missing out on one of the rare opportunities for her to enjoy life outside the academy. And of course, she just had to be stuck with Audrey Clary, of all the high-class LeFay students she could be in detention with.

Determined to not miss out on the long-awaited festival, these former lovers begrudgingly work together to escape detention and find their way to the festival. As they explore the city and celebrate the Sunflower Festival together, an old friendship is rekindled, and new feelings begin to bloom.

~Developed and Published by Yangyang Mobile, Published by Mama Morin (Console/Mobile)~ Available on Nintendo Switch, PC, iOS, and Android

Please Be Happy

• Slice of Life • Romance • Fantasy

Born as a fox in the forest of Korea, Miho carries with her the memory of a traveler who showed her kindness and spoke of home. Now more human than fox, Miho has spent a long, long time searching for her person. She arrives by airship to Wellington, one of the jewels of the floating island of New Zealand.

Despite her years spent observing humans, she still has a lot to learn about their culture and society. She's made a living so far as a thief, her heightened senses allowing her to easily take advantage of people. She's also seen a lot of the worst of what mankind has to offer.

It's only after meeting Juliet, the owner of a small library, and Aspen, an aspiring novelist, that Miho starts to understand what kindness is, and that there's more than just the bad stuff when it comes to people.

~Developed by Studio Élan, Published by Sekai Project~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

Salome's Kiss

• Romance • Drama • Historical • Tragedy

Letitia Reed is an unremarkable woman in many aspects. Meek and mild, she prefers to keep her head down, and fears drawing undue attention to herself. As a governess to the wealthy Mortimer family, Letitia devotes her humdrum days in London to the schooling of her pupil, Clara, to better mould her into the image of an ideal lady.

Lurking beneath Letitia’s placid mannerisms, however, lay desires so intense they begin to unnerve her. As Clara matures, Letitia finds her feelings towards her maturing too – until, in the end, she can no longer bear it.

~Developed and Published by ebi-hime~ Available on PC and Linux

SeaBed

• Romance • Drama • Mystery • Tragedy • Slow Burn

A mystery told through the perspectives of three women: Mizuno Sachiko, a designer plagued by hallucinations of her past lover; Narasaki Hibiki, Sachiko's friend and a psychiatrist researching the workings of human memories; and Takako, Sachiko's former lover who has been rapidly forgetting her past, including how or why the two women drifted apart, despite being together since childhood. All three live in different worlds but seek the same goal. To separate truth from illusion. To make sense of their own lives.

~Developed by paleontology, Published by Fruitbat Factory~ Available on Nintendo Switch and PC

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986

• Shakaijin • Romance • Drama • Historical • Love at First Sight

Michelle is a young professional working woman living in Hong Kong during the heydays of the 1980s. She meets Sam, a free-spirited woman and an unconventional entrepreneur, by chance after an incident involving a broken heel. They share a mutual attraction. As their relationship progresses, Michelle is forced to make a decision between traditional propriety and her newfound feelings.

Inspired by classic Asian cinema, this beautiful game depicts the intense curiosity, confusion, and desire whirling around this incredible romance. Michelle A Summer’s End is a modern romance. A dazzlingly vibrant and intimate experience that explores identity, family, queerness, and love in a rapidly changing and highly political world.

~Developed and Published by Oracle and Bone~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

Synergia

• Action • Sci-Fi • Mystery

Cila, a veteran cop with a sour outlook and anger issues expects nothing more from life besides the smell of ozone, blinding neon lights and the ever-present manhole steam. At least, until a shady friend replaces her broken-down housedroid as a favor. Advanced, more efficient and remarkably perceptive, unit M.A.R.A. begins to penetrate Cila's toughened exterior and possibly even heal her new owner's old wounds – if Cila can decipher the recurring nightmare the process brings. Soon Cila and Mara forge a unique - if sometimes uneasy - bond. Unbeknownst to Cila, just as her life begins to find its new normal, the technological giant Velta Labs gets wind of Mara's existence and takes a mysterious interest in the android. A war unlike any before it is brewing on the horizon, its players are silently being selected and one android's fate may spell the difference between peace, war, the blossoming of a new religion, or a technological singularity beyond comprehension.

~Developed by Radi Art, Published by Top Hat Studios~ Available on PS4, Nintendo Switch, PS Vita, PC, Mac, and Linux

Who Is The Red Queen?

• Horror • Fantasy • Romance

Alice falls down the rabbit hole into a Wonderland not quite right. Meeting an eclectic collection of people, animals, and some things in between, she sets out on an adventure in this odd new place to find the missing Red Queen. Or, more specifically, to find the pieces of the dismembered queen whose body has been strewn across the land.

~Developed by 4noki, Published by Studio Élan~ Available on PC, Mac, and Linux

Yumeutsutsu Re:Master

Slice of Life • Mystery • Slow Burn

Set in the town of Koenji, not far from the imperial capital of Tokyo, where a small game studio called Eureka Soft has set up shop. The heroine Ai, a country girl, joins her sister Kokoro who works there, after receiving a mysterious email from studio head.There she meets the quirky all-girl (and a dog) cast: the big sisterly head of the studio, her sister, giving her a cold shoulder, the maid/voice talent, the "tiny dinosaur" scenarist, the uniformed artist, and Banako, the dog and vice-president. Ai starts learning about game making as she slowly pieces together the mysteries of her colleagues. Ai's world will expand bit by bit, as the game production begins.

~Developed byKogado Studio, Published by Degica~ Available on Nintendo Switch, PS4, and PC

Read More of the 2023 Yuri Guide

⚪ Must-See ⚪ Anime ⚪ Light Novels ⚪ Manga ⚪ Webtoons

Check out the 2023 Yuri Guide page on Bookshop to buy licensed titles and support local bookstores!!

Official releases help support creators and publishers. YuriMother may make a small commission from sales to help fund future content.

Support YuriMother on Patreon for early access and to read exclusive in-depth articles on Yuri and LGBTQ media.

#yuri #girls love #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #lesbian #queer #gl #anime #manga #2023 Yuri Guide #Essay #Articles #Essays

187 notes · View notes

softlyspector · 1 year

Text

Credence

Summary: A year after his mother’s death, Marc travels back to Chicago to face his father. He doesn’t expect it to be easy but he also doesn’t expect it to be so hard. He especially doesn’t expect to find refuge from the hard moments in a little known witch’s shop a few blocks over. And definitely not in one keeping watch over the family’s piano.

This chapter: You meet Steven, and learn a lot about Marc.

Tales Untold; Part IV - Series Masterlist

Pairing: eventual Marc Spector x Reader (eventual minor Steven Grant x Reader and Jake Lockley x Reader)

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings (this chapter): mental health issues, feelings of guilt, angst, mentions of past child abuse

A/N: I want to give a big thank you to all of you who have been keeping up with this series. I love you so much, and thank you for all the continued love and support. It means so much. Comments and feedback are so appreciated! Please let me know if any additional warnings need to be added. For full series warnings, please check the series masterlist, which will be updated as parts are posted!

IV.

Tales Untold, Chicago 2:41 AM

The silence of the street is deafening in the wake of Marc’s words.

Nothing on the street moves. The warmth of the spring breeze ruffles the hem of your robe and all you can do is blink at him, not sure how to respond to Marc telling you he’s not Marc. You slide your gaze away from him, eyes tracking over the dark street, like the answer might be hidden in the tree leaves or between the gaps of the paving stones.

Your storefront has never looked more empty, and the memory of Marc laboring in the sun a few days prior comes unbidden. He’d been so careful, repotting the flowers that could be saved into new homes until he could get the supplies to rebuild the flower boxes. You’d sat on the front step, your help vehemently refused by him again and again as he broke down the old flower boxes and took down your sign.

You’d liked watching him, the shape of his hands so capable and strong. The least you could do was keep him company and so you’d sat there on the step, long into the slow afternoon, only occasionally getting up to get him something to drink.

Marc often forgets to take care of himself. He doesn’t think to eat sometimes, nevermind drink something to keep hydrated.

His words ring in your ears again and you blink away the memory.

I’m not Marc.

You glance back at Marc, eyes flicking over him, still not sure what to say, still not sure how you’re meant to reply.

Confusion and just a tad of hurt, spikes in your veins. What was with the accent? The apologetic shine in his eyes?

I’m not Marc.

Maybe you’d heard him wrong.

He opens his mouth to continue, fingers still anxiously twisting together in front of his chest.

“Marc?” you shake your head slowly and cut him off before he can speak. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Sorry, sorry, doing a shit job at explaining myself, yeah?” He chuckles nervously then wipes at his cheeks, the briny residue of tears still staining his skin. “Dunno what happened. Somethin’ bad must have.” Marc shivers even though the early morning air is warm and humid.

Sweat beads along his brow, pearling against his skin and slowly rolling down his temples and into his mussed hair.

You swallow, trying to place the accent in his mouth, trying to place why he’s speaking to you in an accent at all.

It’s one that’s unfamiliar to you - London or just British you can’t tell.

I’m not Marc.

The sudden unfamiliarity of him makes you want to pull back from him. The confused hurt burbling ever higher in the back of your throat.

Marc’s shoulders twitch in another violent shiver that finally breaks you out of your shock.

Odd accent or not, he’s shivering and obviously distressed. “Marc, honey,” you beckon him forward, stepping back from the door. “C’mere, come inside. You look like you’re freezing.”

He hesitates, mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally manages to make the words come out. “I’m - I’m, please listen,” he pleads gently with you. “I’m not Marc. My name is Steven Grant. I’m not sure what’s happened, yeah? Just…I just woke up on your street.”

For one defensive, mean moment, your heart folds in on itself and you consider slamming the door in his face. After you’d spent so much time together, opened your home to him, he was…what? Fucking with you?

You tighten your grip on the door, prepared to shut it and tell him to fuck off. How juvenile, and cruel. And for what purpose? To get back at you for what happened outside his father’s house?

Everything you know about Marc flashes through your mind's eye. It just doesn’t sit right with you, weighs oddly on your heart.

It’s not something Marc would do.

Distress lines the body in front of you. Your eyes trace over those broken capillaries again, the tacky sweat and tears drying on his skin. His shoulders hitch a little as he sniffles and you realize he may start crying.

You relax your hand on the edge of the door, taking a long breath.

That did leave the question of what was actually happening, though.

He’s disheveled and distressed, swiping the sweat away from his temples with a shaking hand while he waits for your judgment.

You think briefly of the stress Marc always seems to be under, the fear in his eyes when he’d found you conversing with his father, how you’d considered his reactions far too exaggerated for someone with just a tense relationship with a parent.

Maybe, maybe the stress had finally caught up with him.

It didn’t matter really, you wouldn’t leave him standing there on the street no matter what.

You glance back at Marc - Steven, you mentally correct yourself - and smile. He still looks nervous, like he’s afraid you’re going to turn him away. Like he’s been rejected before, like he’s been accused of lying before, and he fears it's about to happen again.

“Okay. Steven,” you give a firm nod, the name an odd taste in your mouth. It feels strange to see Marc, and call him something else.

You just need to understand, you think. You just need to understand what’s happening.

“Steven,” you repeat his name, trying to get used to it. Deciding you should treat him like someone you don’t know, if he’s insistent that he isn’t Marc. And if you don’t know him, he might not know you. “Are you comfortable coming inside?”

He nods, stepping closer to you and his voice wavers, “Don’t think I can go back there…not while I don’t know what’s happened. I’ll explain everything! Honest, I will. Sorry, I know how confusing this all must feel. I’ve-I was, when it first happened.”

When what first happened?

You don’t ask just yet, smiling again instead while you hold the door open wider to let Steven step inside.

“You’re shivering,” you fuss at him, closing the door gently and twisting the lock back into place.

You reach out and cup your hands around his shoulders, rubbing his arms lightly. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. His skin is clammy and chilled, tacky with a dried anxious sweat.

It’s something you never do with Marc, you don’t usually touch him at all. But the action doesn’t feel strange with Steven, and he leans into it, accepting, stepping closer to you.

“Explain what?” You ask as gently as you can, the dark of the shop hemming you in close, cocooning you together. “Steven?”

“Something must have happened with Marc and our dad…that’s the only thing that could explain it, yeah? Why I was - this doesn’t usually happen. Not anymore. He must be really upset.” He seems anxious at the thought, and you find it hard to keep up, to understand what he’s saying when he’s talking about himself like Marc is another person.

Which, you suppose, he must be.

An idea fractures in your mind, something you’d read about online once. Back when you were still thinking of finishing college, when you thought getting a degree in psychology might be a good idea.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as gently as you can. “I still don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Steven takes a breath and meets your eyes, frowning apologetically.

And it is Steven.

Because the longer you look at him, at the sloped curve of his shoulders, the soft cast of his gaze, and the fluttery nervousness of his hands, the more you realize this truly is not Marc Spector before you.

It can’t be.

He doesn’t even look like Marc, not really.

“Steven,” you trail your hands down to his wrists, note that his hands are still shaking. “What happened?” And then, not quite knowing if it was the right thing to ask, “Is - is Marc alright?”

Steven nods at you, nods and nods and doesn’t look away from you, his eyes growing round and soft. “Bloody hell, you are gorgeous. Marc doesn’t tell you that. He thinks so too.”

“Oh,” you feel something pleasantly warm pool in your gut. “No, he doesn’t. Tell me, that is.”

It’s strange, to be speaking to Steven about Marc, like he isn’t there.

And he isn’t, you suppose.

You just need a bit of time to adjust to that.

“Okay, Steven,” you repeat his name, trying to convey that you’re starting to understand just a little. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

Tales Untold, Chicago 3:04 AM

Steven is much chattier than Marc, and much more willing to part with information.

You settle him on the same stool Marc usually takes at your kitchen island, and go about making a cup of tea for each of you. “Sorry, I only drink tea at night so I only have chamomile. It helps me sleep.”

“That sounds lovely, actually,” he says, his eyes soft as his gaze follows you around the apartment. He’s much calmer now, the hitch in his breath gone.

So you make the tea, and find that Steven takes his with just the slightest amount of honey.

You’ve only ever seen Marc drink coffee, and always with too much sugar and a splash of milk.

With the first sip of tea, his shoulders loosen just a fraction, the muscles in his face and neck relaxing.

Even so, his limbs are looser than Marc’s ever have been and you realize you’ve never seen Marc fully at ease. “So,” you move around the counter and grab the blanket from the sofa to drape around Steven’s shoulders, worried that the shaking in his limbs might never stop. “You’re Steven.”

Steven nods at you, hands cupping around the warmth of the mug in front of him. “I’m sorry about bothering you so late,” he falters. “It was very kind of you to let me in at all…I know how I must sound to you.”

“You don’t sound any particular way,” you quickly chirp. “Really. It was more of a shock than anything. I should be apologizing to you.” Before he can contradict you, you continue, “And it’s no bother that you’re here,” you assure him. “Really. Uh -,” you hesitate. “Marc is here all the time late. He was drunk on my doorstep the first time.”

Steven chuckles. “Yeah, I remember bits of that. What an absolute plonker he was.”

You stifle a laugh, and then wait, sensing he’s going to get to explaining things to you without your coaxing, in his own time.

Very different from Marc then.

“Not sure - I mean if you’re confused then obviously - obviously Marc never talked to you about it.”

You tilt your head and wait for him to continue. “Talked to me about what?”

“Us. Me and Jake. Why would he though? No need, yet, yeah?” He chuckles uncomfortably.

“Jake?”

“Sorry, I’m still not, not explaining things right. Probably just makin’ it more bloody confusing.” He shakes his head, eyes clenching closed briefly.

You smile, “Just a bit.”

Steven blinks back over at you, watches you for a moment, not looking away like Marc would. It’s odd to feel his eyes linger for so long, gaze trapped on yours.

His brows are tilted out and up, rather than lowered over his eyes, divoting that little space between his brows with tension.

“Well, I guess it's better to just say it, innit? Marc didn’t explain things to me properly and that turned out just bloody brilliant, didn’t it? No.” His smile is warm. The brown of his eyes is warm, like melting molasses to Marc’s umber.

You don’t try to hide the laugh that bubbles up. Strange as the situation is, it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels like something that was always meant to happen. You reach out and lie a hand against Steven’s forearm, silently encouraging.

“Marc has Dissociative Identity Disorder,” Steven says, watching your hand, the slow stroke of your thumb against his skin. “Well, I suppose we all do, really. I didn’t know about Marc for a long time. It was an accident that I found out at all. He would have kept himself a secret from me if he could have.”

His skin feels warm now, and you’re glad the chilled feeling has retreated. Your heads are bent close together, and when you look up, Steven’s nose nearly brushes yours. So, you’d guessed right earlier, that fleeting thought. “What happened?” You ask.

His brows quirk up. “You…believe me?”

You blink, not expecting to be questioned. “Should I not?” Then, a hot anger creeps in, “Do people usually not?”

He swallows, and you release his arm and lean away from him, trying to remember he’s a stranger, that Steven and you do not know each other despite how familiar he is to you. “Just, just a bit strange.”

“I believe you,” you reassure him. “Of course I do.”

He hesitates, then continues, his words stilting and slow. “Marc is protective,” he explains. “He’d rather shoulder everything alone.”

You smile, and drum your fingers against the counter to quell the urge to touch him again. “That does sound like Marc.” When Steven takes another sip of tea, tucking the blanket tighter around his shoulders, you continue, worried you were making a mess of things or not reacting appropriately. “It’s really nice to meet you, Steven. I’m sorry about how I answered the door.”

Steven’s face relaxes, his shoulders loosening a bit more. “You couldn’t have known. I’d say you’re taking everything rather well.” His face is loose, a curious expression tilting his features. “You are really very kind. I see why Marc likes you.”

A nervous flutter beats in your belly and then moves up to knock against your ribs. It’s an innocent enough sentiment, still, you find yourself oddly delighted to know Marc does actually enjoy your company.

You can’t imagine what makes Steven say it, though, so you just smile. “That’s such a strange thing to hear about yourself. Thank you all the same,” you move off the stool and back around the counter, giving him a little more space.

You retrieve your own cup of tea, watching the familiar body glance around your apartment with curious eyes.

His gaze lands on the piano in the corner, the key lid still slid back from the last time you’d played for Marc. Steven opens his mouth and you expect him to question you, but instead he merely murmurs, “I see why Marc likes coming here so much.”

You nod, “I play for him each night. It’s why he decided to do some repairs for me. He’s pretty closed up about the piano though. Think maybe it’s something to do with your mother.”

Anger you don’t expect wells up inside you, wriggles between your teeth. You tuck your robe tighter around yourself with a sudden chill, thoughts of Marc’s insistence that you not get out of the truck, his body physically blocking yours from the house, flashing through your mind.

You know the origins of DID, and a lump forms in the back of your throat.

He must be so angry at you, for not listening to him.

Angry, or terrified. You can’t decide which is more likely.

You’re brought out of your reverie when a crisp piano note floats through the room.

Steven has moved to stand by the piano, staring down at the keys with a soft expression. When he glances up, he looks a tad embarrassed. “Has Marc told you why this is so important to him?”

“No,” you take a few steps forward. “He won’t even touch it.”

Steven depresses another key, decidedly not sitting down. “Does he know how to play it?”

You laugh and move to sit on the piano bench, feeling the ghost of all the times you’ve sat next to Marc there, his shoulder gently pressing into yours, the contact so light it was almost nonexistent, like he was afraid to take too much, make too much of a mark. “He said he used to know.”

“Maybe when we were children then,” Steven surmises, taking a seat next to you. “Reminds him of something.”

“You don’t know?” You ask, surprised.

“Won’t bloody tell me, no. Said he would sometime.” He continues quickly, “And he will, just needs a bit of time.”

You watch his hands, not touching the keys now but hovering over them, tapping out a silent song. “Looks like you know how to play it. Maybe you should try.”

Steven hesitates, hands hovering still over the keys suddenly, fingers frozen. “Not sure I should. I don’t know why Marc won’t.”

“He’s trying to protect you from something,” you guess.

Steven slowly shakes his head, fingers lowering and knotting together in his lap, “Not this time, no. I don’t think so. Usually I’d say yes, but I don’t think he’d keep bringing us over here around it if it were something bad.”

“He said he’d tell me,” Steven repeats, anxiously, like the words aren’t quite coming out the way he wants them to. Like he’s preemptively trying to protect Marc from your judgment, though you have none to level against him. “He - he tries to tell me things. But he’s not good at it yet. Talking about things, that is.”

You nod, “Yeah, I understand.”

Steven’s hands hover over the keys again, tapping out music you can’t hear. “He hasn’t told you anything? Nothing at all?” You shake your head and Steven rolls his eyes, but it's with a gentle affection. “Bloody hell, Marc,” he mutters to himself.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “We don’t know each other that well.”

He turns to stare at you, his knee pressing into the side of your thigh. “Hang on,” he blinks at you, “Marc, he’s here everyday, yeah?” You nod. “What an absolute twat. Really? Nothing?”

You find yourself smiling, leaning closer to Steven, “Yes, well, I haven’t exactly asked. And like you said he’s kinda closed up. I know a little but I try not to push him.”

Steven fidgets, glances around the room. “I could tell you - just a few things.”

You hesitate. Though you want to know more, about Marc, about Steven, you don’t want to know if Marc doesn't want you to.

“I’m not sure-,” you start to hedge.

“Just about me then,” he smiles. “Nothin’ to do with Marc. He can tell you when he gets his head out of his arse.”

You snort, the laugh that bubbles up so unexpected. “Alright then. Just about you.”

Steven is beaming at you, “You have a nice laugh.”

He smells like Marc, of course he does, wide brown eyes watching you with an unearned amount of affection. “Sorry,” he chuckles, just a bit self-deprecating. “I do feel like I know you, just a bit.”

“I understand.” You look away and clear your throat. “I feel like I know you too.” You meet Steven’s eyes again and then turn to the keys, slowly playing the song you always tap out for Marc. “Can I ask who Jake is?”

“As far as we know,” Steven answers easily. “There are three of us. Jake, he’s rather elusive. Rarely around really.”

You nod, and Steven leans into your side, much more heavily than Marc ever has. The warmth of him against you is nearly hot but not unpleasant. “Mm,” you hum so he knows you’re listening to whatever he wants to tell you.

Steven tells you that they don’t usually switch without the other’s knowledge, not anymore. “So, something must have happened, that the switch was involuntary, yeah? It only happens when we’re upset.”

You tilt your head, beginning to see why he’d been so anxious. “When things get too much,” you tread lightly.

“Yes,” Steven smiles at you. “Exactly.” His grin fades, “Don’t remember anythin’, though. Just - just staring at your shop.” You don’t have time to contemplate that, your body reacting on instinct as you suddenly turn and take his hands, a horrible thought occurring to you.

“Are you-,” you glance over his hands, press your fingers up his arms. “Hurt. Are you hurt?”

His smile is sad and gentle. “No. Not physically anyways. That’s somethin’ we don’t have to worry about anymore.” He avoids your gaze when he says it, an odd grief lodging in his eyes.

You find it hard to breathe for a moment, something hard sticking in the back of your throat.

Their mother, then.

Anger pools in your gut but you swallow it. It’s bitter. It burns going down.

“Well,” you release him. “That’s good to hear.”

It’s silent for a moment, in which you stare at Steven and he stares back at you. “He must feel very safe. To come here to you.” He swallows. “To bring me here. Us.”

“You’re always welcome,” you say. “Any of you. Even Jake. You’re all safe here.”

You’re surprised to see a tear streak down his cheek, before he leans in and takes your hands and deposits them back on the keys. “Keep playing. Please.”

Tales Untold, Chicago 5:13 AM

The sky is starting to lighten when you finally stop playing.

Steven offers to leave, or to sleep on your couch.

But all you see is the grief in his shoulders, the cast of shadow beneath his eyes, the broken capillaries, the pin pricks of red. You imagine how hard Marc must have been crying and decide you can’t let either of them be alone.

Steven doesn’t protest so much, or outright refuse when you tell him to sleep in your bed. It’s big enough, you argue, and you don’t want him to be alone, not even across the room.

Something in his face crumbles when you say that, and a torn, aching, raw hole of loneliness in them makes itself known to you.

You imagine Marc, if he could even be convinced, would lie stiffly next to you.

But Steven relaxes, laces his fingers with yours across the stretch of sheets between you and tells you how much he likes the stained glass that hangs in your window.

“I’ve been thinking of making some, for downstairs in the front window.”

“You made those?”

“Yeah.”

“Bloody brilliant. They’re beautiful.”

You smile.

Steven’s eyes are on your hands in the dark, his thumb tracing over the back of your hand. “Maybe I could help you? Since Marc is helping with everything else.”

“I would love that.”

He tells you about his job, about London, until his voice slows and slurs and eventually stops altogether.

You stay awake until his breathing evens out and slows. Only then, do you let a couple tears slip out and take a shuddering breath.

Tales Untold, Chicago 7:24 AM

Pale sunlight streams from between the slats of the blinds. It bends around the stained glass hangings, purples and reds splotched against the far wall.

The light wavers over the floor in long ribbons. The room is warm, the threat of the first truly hot day looming.

And Marc can’t make heads or tails of where he is for a moment.

His last memory is the heaving, soul crushing grief blocking his throat, the divoting fingers of the past gripping his lungs in tight fists. He remembers staring up at the front of your shop, empty and dark, without your sign and those pitiful fucking flower boxes.

The worming hurt had seized him again. He couldn’t brother you, not like this, not again.

Not after you’d seen too much, not after he’d frightened you and made you flee. You had wanted nothing to do with him. You had been eager to be away from him, and that’s something he could never blame you for.

Another howling sob had climbed up the back of his throat, so hot and hard he’d choked on it, swallowing down the sound until the pressure behind his eyes felt like it might bleed.

And then -

Nothing.

Just flashes of what came after, of you opening the door to Steven, your hands on piano keys, the twist of your mouth when you smiled.

Now, bright sun.

He blinks into it. Something heavy and warm rests over him, something soft and weighted with fragrance.

Marc freezes when he recognizes the scent.

Lavender and rosemary. You.

The sun retreats, his eyes adjusting to the light, and he finds himself blinking at the changing screen patterned with baby’s breath and tulips.

The thing on his chest is a cream colored duvet.

He’s in your fucking bed.

Surely not.

Surely Steven had not-

Slept next to you. Imposed them on you like that.

He shifts, and finds the bed empty. But the sheets on the other side of the bed are rumpled. And when he slides his hand across the mattress he finds it still warm with fading body heat.

Marc jerks his hand back like he’s been stung.

A headache begins at the base of his neck, the weight of this, of you knowing about Steven, of you and Steven bonding, combined with the night before, is too much.

He's not upset you've met Steven, he's more concerned with what Steven might have told you.

The conversation with his father floats back through his mind. The way you’d been all too keen to get away from him on the street. You hadn’t let him take you home, you clearly hadn’t wanted him to come over for dinner like he normally did.

He’d been trying, so fucking hard, not to let you see, not to let you get too close and see too much. You don’t deserve that, no one does, to have to carry inside them the things that he already did.

What had Steven told you? Marc doesn’t know. His memory is nothing but random flashes.

Marc sits up slowly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tosses the duvet back and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Steven?” You call out at the sound of him moving around.

He freezes, the cut of your voice light and hopeful.

Do you always sound like that? He suddenly can't remember. Maybe it was a tone reserved for Steven.

Fuck.

He clears his throat, disentangling himself from the sheets. “It’s me,” he rumbles.

You appear around the side of the screen, eyes wide. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure who-,”

“It’s okay,” he interrupts, not quite meeting your eyes. A hard knot of shame swells in his chest, choking him. “So,” he grates. “You met Steven.”

He sounds irritated to his own ears, but he doesn’t correct his harsh tone. He doesn’t move to meet your gaze, training his gaze on your sock clad feet instead when he stands.

“Yes,” you say, stepping back when he moves from around the changing screen to face you fully. “I did.”

Marc huffs out a self-deprecating laugh, his headache increasing in intensity. “Great.”

A long silence slips between you. Tension floods his shoulders and rakes up his spine. Shame makes a familiar home in his heart, curling tight around the arteries.

He finally turns his eyes up to yours.

But you’re just watching him with a quiet intensity. Gently, like you’re speaking to a wounded animal, you say, “He’s lovely. Me and Steven got along well. I’m glad I got to meet him.”

When he doesn’t answer, you continue, “Are you okay? What happened? Steven didn’t seem to know.”

“No,” he lashes out, hating himself even as the words spill forth.

It’s easier. Hatred and embarrassment are easier to swallow than your acceptance. He wants your hatred and rejection and embarrassment. Because at least that makes sense. “Still told you plenty though, huh?”

Marc curls his hands into fists at his sides, waiting for you to snap back at him. You just shrug and step back, circling your kitchen island. “Yeah, we talked. Nothing important really.” You pull down two glasses from one of the cabinets. You have to stretch and your shirt slides up, revealing the soft skin of your lower back.

He shifts his eyes away from you, trying to hang onto the fraying threads of the shame and anger welling up inside him.

But you aren’t rejecting him, that’s clear. Not in any sense of the word. You aren’t treating him any differently than you normally do.

He feels inadequate, bad. Guilt lingers long against the wings of his lungs.

“I’m going to make some iced coffee.”

You don’t ask if he wants any, and Marc doesn’t answer. The acrid emotions floating inside his lungs like black smoke, starts to fade when he realizes you aren’t going to engage him at all. You aren’t going to entertain his anger or his shame. There’s nothing to be angry or guilty about.

“Come sit down,” you direct. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. But you should probably talk to Steven if you can. He was pretty upset.” You fill the glasses with ice, the clink loud in the quiet early morning. “He really didn’t tell me anything,” you add quietly. “Really he didn’t.”

Marc takes a long breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before he crosses the room to sit on his usual stool. “I shouldn’t have come over here,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face, elbows braced against the counter. “You didn’t want us here.”

You turn and offer him one of the cups, sliding it over the counter to him. You plant one hand on your hip and tilt your head at him. “Really, Marc? Who said I don’t want you here? It certainly wasn’t me. Steven just explained that you have DID. Okay? That’s it. And that’s nothing to - to be ashamed of. Okay? And I don’t think Steven remembered what happened so he didn’t tell me anything else. He couldn’t.”

The glass is patterned with bumblebees. Marc traces a thumb over one of them. “Yeah? Wasn’t that enough?”

“Enough?” You ask, confusion coloring your voice.

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s crazy, even if you don’t recognize it yet. You don’t know everything, but this should be enough. Enough to put distance between the cradle of your care and him.

And how much he’s come to rely on you.

“Oh,” you whisper suddenly. Because you’re smart and intuitive and you just seem to always understand, even when he doesn’t say anything. “Oh, Marc, no. No.” And then, your voice light, filled with a strange levity, “I really like Steven and you promised to make me planter boxes.”

He chokes down the laugh that threatens to burst free. “Yeah, I did.” His shoulders loosen, the adrenaline flooding his system eases out and leaves him feeling exhausted, wan and dried out.

“Right. So you aren’t allowed to go anywhere just yet. I don’t want you to anyways.” You push a bottle of coffee creamer across the counter to him. “Here. I saw this one at the store and thought you might like to try it. It’s probably sweet enough for you.”

He just nods and takes it from you.

You round the counter and sit next to him with your own cup, fingers sliding up and down the sweating glass nervously.

“Can I tell you what I felt when I touched the piano?” He freezes, doesn’t dare look over at you. “My…I don’t like to think about it like a power. Because it doesn’t feel that way, and I don’t control it. I don’t want to control it. I trust it to know when I should know something.” You pause, swirling the straw in your glass. “And the piano wanted me to know.”

Marc turns to look at you, and finds himself reflected in your eyes. You look ashamed, guilty. Your smile is warped, sitting on your skin like you expect to be rejected. He remembers that first time you’d mentioned it, that the piano remembered him. You’d looked embarrassed then, too.

And the next time. So, shit talks to you, huh?

You’d snorted, avoided talking about it.

He must be silent for too long, because you nervously continue, fingers drumming on the counter. “I know it’s weird. It’s okay if-,”

“No,” he interrupts. “No. Tell me.”

“It’s weird, I know-,” you repeat again before you pause and take a breath. Your mouth opens and closes several times, like you don’t know how to continue.

He wants to tell you it's okay. Instead, he says, “Tell me.”

You blink and then smile, taking a sip of your coffee and watching from the corner of your eye to see if he does the same. He rolls his eyes and lifts his own glass.

You’re right, he likes the coffee creamer. White chocolate mocha, the bottle says.

It’s so sweet it makes his teeth itch. He loves it.

“It’s good.”

“I knew you’d like it,” you chime before you clear your throat. “When I touched the piano that first time, and everytime after that really, it felt like peace. Like happiness. Maybe like gold and mornings. To me, it’s like a conversation. And all it wanted me to know is that it was not ready to leave it’s home.” Marc stares at you, eyes flickering down to your hand which rests next to his, not touching his skin, not quite. “It was waiting for someone. Wouldn’t say who.”

You swallow. “So I never suspected, Marc. About your mother. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened but I’m sorry and I understand why it’s so complicated for you. The piano and being here and how it used to be hers.”

Steven might not have told you anything, but you’ve been able to guess, at least about some things. He fidgets, pressure spilling down his sides, raking over the skin of his belly. He inches his hand into yours, so your pinkies are touching. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“I’m sorry,” you say and you sound like you mean it.

Marc moves his hand until it’s settled fully over yours. Your skin is soft beneath his calloused palm. “There’s a lot you don’t know. You don’t have to be sorry about any of it.”

The shame has retreated, replaced by this odd acceptance.

You flip your hand up and press your fingers through his.

Tales Untold, Chicago 6:59 PM

He’s repointing your brickwork, or starting on it at least, digging out the old mortar from between the bricks and letting it lie where it falls.

You’re sitting on the step up to your shop, quiet in the setting sun. You look content, capable hands sanding down the sides of the first completed flower box he’d brought over the day before.

“Before…before things changed, we were really close.” You look up but Marc doesn’t look at you. He speaks to the brick. “My mom and me. We played the piano together. All the time.”

You carefully set the box down, leaning your elbows against your knees as you listen. “She started drinking a lot. Piano got covered up. We never played it again. Maybe that’s why you feel good things from it. Because that’s all it knows. That’s all I remember.” He jams the chisel into the mortar hard, sweat drips down his temple, slides along the curve of his cheek.

“I’m sorry for - for what happened the other day with my dad. I didn’t mean to scare you.” You shift, sitting up straight but Marc still doesn’t look at you, shoving the chisel between the bricks again without preamble. His arms strain, and he thinks he should stop, that he’s digging in too far.

“After you left,” he continues, even though he can see you opening your mouth in his peripheral vision, probably to contradict him, but he doesn’t want you to have to lie for his sake. “After you left, my dad asked about you. Too many questions. Why I didn’t want you to come inside. He asked like he didn’t know how hard it is for me to go inside.”

Marc knows, he knows you’ve already guessed at the abuse. Steven had told him how you’d asked if he was hurt. And Marc remembers, can see your face in his mind’s eye, the gears turning in your head as you put the pieces of who he is together.

You’re too intuitive for your own good.

So he might as well just get the words out.

“I…usually handle it better but I was so -,”

He was so fucking scared. Anxious.

“Stretched thin,” he says. “That I couldn’t - that the truth just came out.”

You haven’t moved, and Marc sets the chisel down, his hand shaking. “What happened?” Your soft voice asks as he sits on the pavement and leans back against the ruined brick wall.

“I reminded him,” Marc says, bracing his forearms on his knees. “Of why this has been so hard. I reminded him of everything that happened in that house.” He manages to look over you, fastening his eyes on your ankles, the old pair of sneakers you wear. “Told him that’s why you’ll never fucking visit. Not as long as I’m there.” He swallows, “Especially now that I know…I don’t want you to touch something, see something you won’t be able to forget.”

When he finally drags his eyes up to yours, the last part is easy to say. “Went to bed. I shouldn’t have tried to sleep, not when I felt the way I did.” He swallows, thinks briefly about how pretty you look in the sun. “Nightmare, from the stress probably. I could feel how close I was to slipping but I couldn’t stay there and - and I’m trying not to become her, so I can’t drink and -,”

Marc doesn’t finish that thought, and the silence stretches for a long minute.

“What was the dream about?”

What it’s always about. Rushing water. Begging cries. Bruised hands. Slamming doors.

“Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “I shouldn’ta come here. But, maybe I knew - you and Steven would put things back together.”

You stand, hesitating for only a second before you join him on the ground. You push your head against his shoulder and let out a long breath. “You can always come here. You’re safe here. Steven and Jake too.”

“Not sure you wanna leave the door open for us like that,” he tries to joke.

But you just nod fervently against him, “Yes, I do.”

He should let you go. He shouldn’t tell you these things.

Instead, he twists his fingers with yours. “You gonna paint that one tonight?”

“No,” you squeeze his hand. “It’s almost dinner time. I thought we could order Chinese.”

He nods, presses his nose into your temple even though he shouldn’t accept your comfort.

“We gotta get out more,” you say suddenly. “Outta this shop and you outta that house.”

He nods against you, eyes closed, breathing in the lavender and rosemary of you.

His hands are dirty but you still clutch at him like he’s not sweaty and gross. You inhale against him like he’s made of something much more valuable than flesh and blood.

“Do you want to reconcile with your father?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.

“Well,” you start. “You could bring him to dinner here. It’s a start. It’s neutral ground.”

Marc doesn’t answer but you don’t demand one from him. Like you know he’ll answer you sometime, eventually.

“We gotta go to a Cubs game,” he says. “I haven’t…there’s a lotta stuff about Chicago I miss.”

“Like the Bean.”

He snorts, “Oh yeah.”

“Pizza.” You lift your head, “Navy Pier. Skydeck. Shedd.”

“Yeah. Mostly the pizza though.” Then, hesitant because you’re like a mirage, like something too good to believe. He squeezes your fingers, feels you echo the touch, squeezing right back. “Wanna go to a Cubs game with me?”

“As long as you buy me pizza afterwards.”

He can feel you smiling against his arm when you duck your head.

Marc huffs out a gentle laugh. His chest feels distinctly lighter. “Okay.”

“It’s a date.”

Thank you for reading! Another special thank you to those keeping up with the series, and for all the continued love and support.

Comments and feedback are so appreciated. New parts will be posted Saturdays at 3PM EST! You can add yourself to the tag list on the series masterlist.

Tags:

@anapnovo-blog

@groguspicklejar

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@xoxoloverb

@rufucknkiddnme

@werido125

@raven-rk

@wolfmoonmusic

@sleepyamaya

@bilesxbilinskixlahey

@welcometostayingawake

@siofra3448

@bucksgoat

@campingwiththecharmings

@virgin-mojitos

@extroverteddisaster

@yuukiyoko

@fictional-hooman

@i-reblog-fics-i-like

@blulemonades

@lemonlaides

@moonybiash

@armand0alg0

@jeankayleigh

@buckbuckyoongs

@spider-biter

@dustyinkpages

@interwebseriesfan24

@ohmystaxk

@ablue25

@s-u-t

@amasdaydream

@eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

@mxltifxnd0m

@heyitsaloy

@mayonnnnnaise

@mandoandyodito

@razor-blayde

@shadypaperwitch

#marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic

422 notes · View notes

beautysamour · 1 year

Text

Wrong destination | chapter one.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Characters: most characters that were present in the series will be present here.

some oc’ will also be present in this story

Summary: You were a special type of grisha, some would even call you a saint. Manipulating time was your specialty, you were able to go forward and back, pause then continue time. But you were still considered weak in your family, all your family members after the time of the fold were weak compared to what your ancestors could do.

Your intention was to save your friend, and the only way to do it was to go back in time.

But you didn’t mean to go this far back.

—

warning/s: a description of death.

a/n: this will be a series! for anyone wondering, “modern” ravka is set during our current time. this’ll be a very plot heavy fanfic but it was also be very focused on the romance since it’s an x reader. and it’s nikolai. but yeah

enjoy!!! I’ll try to get chapter 2 out as soon as I can!

PRESENT DAY

“So how will I be able to tell when you stop time?”

“You won’t.”

“What? Well that shit’s lame.” Elijah exclaimed as you two continue to walk through the forest.

The two of you have been wondering through the forest since before sunrise on the look out for an old cabin. The night before, your family let it slip that there was a cabin in the forest your family lineage use to find refuge in from drüskelle, witch hunters, you were told they were called.

You were always interested in your grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great grandparents, your ancestors in general. You have a unique power, so unique that some people would classify you as a saint, and you wish your family now found as much interest in it as you so they could help you train with it.

“What’d you say the cabin looked like again?” Elijah was slightly behind you, loosing more and more interest by the second. You stopped walking abruptly and turned around ready to say a sarcastic remark, “It’s red and blue and has purple windows. What do you think a cabin looks like?” Elijah rolled his eyes at you before you turned around and began to walk again.

“K smart ass,” you throw back a middle finger at hearing his voice.

—

The sun was starting to set and you haven’t seen any signs of any cabins or even any ruins. To make things worse, the sky was now covered with gloomy clouds. It would start raining any minute.

“Eli,” you call out and stop walking to turn around to him again, “you can go back if you want, I’m going to keep looking.”

Elijah lets out an exhale, his straightened frame deflating, before walking up to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“You know I’d never leave you half way into a mission,” he gave you a lopsided smile to which you returned with your own smile, “you wouldn’t survive without me.” You let out a scoff out of affection and elbowed him on the side.

He lets go of you to wrap his arms around his stomach area, fake crying with a grin on his face. Suddenly he stops moving and a sullen expression falls on his face, a playful glare now being sent your way.

You both are silent for a few moments until the both of you convulse into a fit of laughter, momentarily forgetting about being all serious for the mission and indulging in each others humor.

—

“Y/N.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you yawned before answering Elijah, “What’s up?”

Elijah pointed somewhere off into the distance, you followed the direction that he was pointing towards and was met with the view of shed, or rather, a cabin.

You broke out into a sprint, the weariness quickly dissipating, with Elijah just slightly behind you. You guys slowed to a stop as you reached the cabin, fortunately the door had no kind of lock on it. Elijah grabbed your wrist before you would fully push the door open.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced around the area again, worried that Elijah spotted someone near. When you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary you turned your head towards Elijah, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“I know this wasn’t exactly easy to find, but don’t you feel…suspicious of something?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, no, nothing felt off to you. Maybe it was because this was your ancestors safe haven, but you felt an immediate sensation of comfort when you saw the cabin.

“No, maybe it’s because it’s nighttime, so you’re scared,” you teased but Elijah didn’t indulge in your humorous moment. He stared into your eyes with a sort of worry and determination in his eyes that confused you. Elijah never got worried.

Regretting your choice of your words, you grab onto his hand with your other that wasn’t near the door, “If anything happens, I’ll go back in time.” He relaxed the muscles in his face that he was clenching and softened his gaze, “I’d really prefer if nothing bad happened in the first place.” He slid his hand out of your grasp as he let go of your wrist, waiting for you to completely open the door.

The interior that greeted you as you opened the door wasn’t that different from what you imagined, in fact you’re pretty sure you’ve seen it in one of your dreams. The floor creaked as you stepped inside of the cabin, the floor had dust resting on top of it and the ceiling was made out of stone just as the walls. It was only the floor that was made out of wood.

It was bigger than you imagined, there were two staircases leading to the second and third floor and a table with six chairs around it was settled in the middle of the cabin. At the top of the third floor, you could see a big grandfather clock sitting at the back. You turn around expecting to see Elijah right behind you, but he was still at the front door.

“Eli, come in,” you gestured for him to follow, “I can’t,” he replied, his back straighter than ever, now on full alert. “I think we should go-“

As if on cue, an axe flew behind Elijah, barely missing him as it took a piece of his shirt with it. You two immediately make eye contact with widened eyes, mutually agreeing to start running.

Elijah was slightly in front of you as you two ran through the woods, yells that sounded like war screams could be heard behind you.

“Drüskelle? I thought they all died out,” you said through ragged breaths.

“Yeah, me too. Apparently we were wrong,” Elijah jerked his body backwards and aggressively gestured you to move to the side. Once you got out of his way, he brought both of his arms up and moved them in a downward motion, successfully grasping the hearts of the drüskelle, buying both some extra time.

“Hey, you might wanna do your thing?” Elijah said as he caught up with you, “actually don’t, it’s not needed.” He gave you a smug grin before focusing his eyes on the path ahead of you two.

You allowed yourself to let out a chuckle, thinking that you both were somewhat in a better situation and that you’d have a few minutes before the drüskelle caught up.

You were wrong.

Not even five feet later, another axe flies past your eyes, you follow it and your knees buckle causing you to fall forward at seeing the sight next to you.

The axe connected with Elijah’ neck.

His once whole body now in two, with his head separated from the rest.

A scream immediately leaves your mouth and your hand flew up to cover it, attempting to muffle your cries.

Now hearing the voices of drüskelle coming closer, you close your eyes and try to focus. Whispers of self comfort escape you as you try to calm yourself down. The sound of heavy footsteps got closer and the voices raised in volume.

You take a deep breath in and hold it trying to calm your breathing, and before a drüskelle was able to fully reach you, you move your arms in a circular motion; following the silhouette of a clock.

And finally, you feel a breeze hit you and silence takes over.

THE PAST

When you opened your eyes you found yourself laying on the middle of the ground in some sort of cabin. Confused to where you were at, both in time and physically, you turned to your left and saw a clock. Specifically the clock you found in your family’-if you could even call it yours-safe haven.

“What the fuck…” you pushed yourself up now sitting upright and moved your arms in a circular motion again assuming that you went back to the wrong time as there was no dust on the floor.

Nothing happened, there was no breeze, no silence, just the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the birds chirping. You moved your arms again. And again. And again.

It wasn’t working. You couldn’t go forward in time, or pause it, or even go further back. You were stuck.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you start to panic, you couldn’t get back home, and you couldn’t save Eli. You were stuck. You were stuck.

You jerk your head towards the front door when you hear it open and jerk backwards when you hear two voices come through the door. You couldn’t hear everything they were saying but you caught one word they were saying a lot, tortoise. You decided that didn’t matter when you heard one of them start to come up the stairs.

Luckily, the other called them back before they could fully go upstairs. You heard a few clicks coming from the direction of the door and then a soft thud, the footsteps and voices now gone.

A few moments passes before you felt comfortable moving forward again. There was no one on the bottom floor-but there was some food.

As you push yourself up on your feet, you groan as you feel the uncomfortable tension at your back. You cringe at the sound of you back cracking but the tension disappearing makes it worth it.

As you run down the stairs and take a steaming sweet potato, not caring that the people who lived here would most likely notice, you look out a window to the right of the front door.

Novyi Zem?

A little to the left of the window you saw small clock pendant on the wall with locations on each hour mark: Kerch, Shu Han, Ravka, Fjerda, and Novyi Zem, your current location.

You opened the door and walked out the house, your curiosity overpowering the worry of your power not working.

“Move!” Someone said as they ran right into you, knocking you back so hard you hit the door. You scoffed and brushed up the area they pushed you, “Babink,” you cursed to yourself already feeling irritated at this era.

You spotted a jewelry stand from the corner of your eye and walked to it. Modern day Ravka didn’t have these designs, and it was exceptionally rare for jewelry to be made out of genuine crystals. Your irritation subsided as you fawn over the jewelry.

“Are you going to buy anything?” Asked the person working there.

I wish I could, “No, sorry.” The worker glanced over your outfit once before speaking to another customer. Right, you had modern day clothes on.

You started walking again, trying to find a stand with clothes that you could easily steal from. Normally you wouldn’t steal- you wouldn’t ever steal- but you didn’t have any money.

You finally found a stand selling clothes after walking around the crowded streets for some time, luckily the person working at the stand was focused with another customer. You reached for a few pieces of clothing and stalled at the stand for a few minutes hoping that the person at the stand would forget you were there.

Not sure how you could play this off, you answered to an imaginary person calling you, “Hey! I was just waiting for you…” you held your breath as you walked away from the stand, you were about to take a turn that would make you disappear from the stand’ point of view, but the saints hate you apparently.

“Hey! Hey!” they yelled again, “They’re a thief!”

You broke out into a sprint as commotion broke out in the stands, “Shit-fuck, shit-what the hell,” you brought your arms up ready to go back in time, “Oh my- fuck!” you cursed out at remembering that you can’t manipulate time right now.

You took a sudden turn left and bumped into another person, “sorry-“ said a female and male voice as they started running again. You nearly started running the way they came from until you saw a group of guards running you way- assuming that they were after you, you ran the same way the other people went.

The shopping area only got more chaotic it seemed. From behind you, you heard the guards yelling out “stop them!” which caused more people to run after you.

You followed the duo in front of you, it seemed like they knew how to outrun guards and such so you were willing to bet that following you would get you out.

Somewhere along the way the duo got separated and you trailed behind the guy. After some parkour, he turned a sudden corner, which you followed, slipped as you came to an abrupt stop. There was a locked door blocking your guys’ path, just your luck.

Fuck this era.

You turned around ready to run away but the guards were right behind you. You stepped back and tried to examine a way out. You could do some parkour on the wall, and some stands, but that couldn’t guarantee your escape.

“Hey,” you began to say; hoping that you could talk it out.

The guy behind you ran past you, immediately throwing punches and elbowing people.

“Guess violence is always the answer here-“ you took a shoe off your foot and threw it at one of the men who were running towards you. As the guard dodged it, you opted for slapping him in the face since you weren’t a hundred percent confident with your punching skills.

Taking the guard off guard, you ran towards one of the men hanging on the guy’ back. You jumped on his back effectively piggyback riding him and started bashing his head with your fist. It didn’t take long for him to fling you off his back, and he was about to lunge for your neck at strangle you but the guy who you were following managed to pull him back and throw him to a wall.

You mumble out a thanks as you get back on your feet.

“Hey!” You heard to your left.

Suddenly a wall of light blocked your vision that stunned the guards that you were fighting.

The one responsible for the wall of light, who happened to be the girl who got separated from the guy, ran up to him and helped him up, “So much for nobody knowing who I am,” she said with an amused yet exasperated tone.

“Yeah, that was subtle,” replied the guy. When the guy fully got back onto his feet, he looked at you then looked back at the girl before running toward the locked door.

“Uh-,” you called out, “ Thank you! For helping me,” you cringed at yourself as you found the guy ignoring you. You caught the girl’ attention however, before she averted it to the locked door in front of them. You ran up to them; ready to run out once she opened the door.

“I knew you’d be traveling as a pair, well-trio, now it seems.”

The girl quickly put herself in front of, who you’re now assuming to either be her brother or boyfriend, “Let’s see your hands. Especially you, Starkov. It’s time to turn you in.”

The people who had stands blocked your path, chatter breaking out between them.

The girl, Starkov, pulled back for a second.

This is really how I die, huh. Executed because I stole clothes. so dramatic. Well I guess it’s karma for what happened to-. To Elijah.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. But nothing happened, no hands were put on you. You opened your eyes to find the people who you thought were against you, facing towards the guards.

A women from the crowd ran up to you three, they unlocked the door but before opening it, faced Starkov. “Adawesi. Sun summoner.”

Your jaw dropped, sun summoner?

The women opened the door allowing the three of you to finally escape.

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Mal.”

“No problem,” you said with a smile, “My name is Y/N,” since he didn’t give you a last name you felt no need to say yours.

“And I’m Alina Starkov,” said the sun summoner.

Sun summoner. The Fold time era. The time where your family line was the most educated on their own power…maybe you could figure out what happened to your power, and how to get it back. If you could.

The conversation died out as the three of you focused on running further away, and as the memories of you and Elijah running through the forest play through your head.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolal lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai x you #grishaverse #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai lantsov x grisha reader #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai x y/n

279 notes · View notes

hlficlibrary · 7 months

Text

HL Fic Library 🌚 Supernatural Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

🦇 domestic monsters (series) by @g-uttertrash {E, 234k}

Harry is a witch from a long line of power, an ancient line that’s one of the strongest left alive in their hemisphere. He can cast spells without a word if need be, fly on a broomstick, and has a black cat (a kitten, really) named Felix that is his animal familiar. He can shape galaxies in his cupped hands and can destroy them just as easily. He can choose exactly how to use his power, for encouragement and support, or for more nefarious causes if he wishes to.

And as fate would have it, he’s scared of haunted houses.

(Harry is a witch who carries around a stuffed pumpkin, Louis is a vampire with too much time on his hands, and their best mates Zayn & Niall aren't exactly what they seem...)

🦇 Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples {E, 226k}

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

🦇 Run Like the Devil by benzos / @churchrat {E, 139k}

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s something.

Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy?

“I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

Supernatural AU. Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

🦇 House of The Rising Sun by @itsmotivatingcara {M, 101k}

“It wasn’t me.” Louis said after they’d walked a block in silence, Harry glanced over in surprise but this time Louis didn’t meet his eyes, instead looking ahead. The moonlight cast shadows under his striking cheekbones, and not for the first time, Harry thought he was eerily beautiful - though immortality would likely have a hand in that. “It was supposed to be, but I got caught up in something else.”

“Something more important than murdering a witch” Harry snarked, “Will wonders never cease.”

He felt Louis’ irritation before he spoke again, “Careful, little lamb.” He murmured.

Little lamb.

Harry despised the nickname Louis had given him when they’d first met nine months prior. Little Lamb to the slaughter, Louis had said mockingly.

Or The Originals AU that no one asked for.

🦇 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule {T, 93k}

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🦇 The Devil In My Brain by @princesshalo {E, 74k}

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.

🦇 Tied to Fate by @littlelouishiccups {E, 52k}

After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

🦇 we should open up (before it's all too much) by @disgruntledkittenface {M, 43k}

“I’m not–” Harry breaks off, his voice strangled as he clutches his phone in his hand. He takes a breath and looks up, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill over at bay. “Louis, I’m not very good company these days. I–”

“Harry,” Louis interrupts, his raspy voice soft and soothing. “I get it. Sometimes it’s just easier to be alone, yeah?”

Harry nods, blinking back the last of his tears.

“But it can get lonely,” Louis states. Harry nods again even though it wasn’t a question, finally looking back at him. “So why don’t we try being alone, together?”

Struggling with grieving and depression since his dad died, Harry has never felt so alone. It’s too much to cope with on his own, but he feels like a burden when he tries to open up with people.

Then he meets Louis.

🦇 The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson by @helloamhere {T, 31k}

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

🦇 Where the World has Come Together by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {M, 26k}

For the crime of elven blood running through his veins, Louis Tomlinson spends his days protecting the human kingdom he’s been cast out of. Forcibly tied by magic to the very walls that encircle the city, he and the other guards do what they can to find some semblance of a life.

Then, against Louis’ wishes, someone new is added to their number. How is he supposed to share living quarters with a monster?

🦇 The Blood of Love by @mugglemirror {E, 25k}

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

🦇 Campus Creatures by @kingsofeverything , YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {E, 25k}

It’s senior year for werewolf Louis Tomlinson and vampire Harry Styles, and as presidents of their respective fraternities, they’re determined to do it right.

Though what that means is anybody’s guess.

🦇 In the Strangest of Ways by SunTomato / @sun-tomato {NR, 17k}

Louis Tomlinson is a historian with English Heritage, specialised local history and folklore. When he is hired to research the origins of a mysterious music sheet, he soon finds he’s not the only one at the manor; a dark presence keeps following him around. The more time he spends at the historic site, the clearer it becomes that something tragic happened here. And when the haunting sounds of a melancholy piano piece accompanied by the vague shadow of a beautiful male figure appear, Louis is determined to find out who this beautiful man was and what happened to him…

🦇 it's time to find your wings again by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 12k}

The first reports are dismissed, as tall tales or folklore. As mental illness, poor Bathilda, she’d gone loopy. As people simply getting scared in the dark woods and seeing things, making things up. Magic isn’t real. Mythological creatures aren't real.

But then the first one is caught. A faun, that little Meg from around the corner swears has attacked her in the woods, and everyone comes to the marketplace to see the faun be hanged for its crimes. Louis doesn’t want to go, but at the same time, he finds himself unable to stay away. Not when this proves what he’s wanted to believe all along, that magic is real.

Louis is twenty when he starts working at the prison. His fascination for supernatural creatures had turned into something most closely resembling loathing over the years, due to the many stories of their evildoing, and although he still doesn’t believe in hanging them for their crimes, he does believe in keeping the town safe. In making sure that his siblings get to grow up without fear of being kidnapped or hurt. As the oldest son, it feels like his duty to make sure that no creature in the wide area will ever pose a threat to anyone.

🦇 Far Afield by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {T, 11k}

Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.

🦇 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday {T, 10k}

Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🦇 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey {M, 8k}

Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. He also has his cats and his birds to keep him company. But his best friend Liam thinks he needs someone around, and he's got just the person: Liam's friend Harry is coming to the area for the tourist season and since Louis has all this space....

🦇 Somethin' Old and Red by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {NR, 5k}

There was a ritual with these things. He’d pour a splash into a wine glass —his favourite little joke was telling humans he loved a nice glass of red every now and again— then sat down in his living room and listened to music while he drank. Every time he changed the record —or, what was it they called them nowadays? 8tracks? MP3s? Playlists? It was difficult for Harry to keep up with the technology, especially as much as things had changed over the last few decades— he would change the music before refilling the glass. He liked to savour his meals. He could get at least two evenings out of a bag that way, which worked very well for Harry’s schedule. His wine glass was in front of him on the counter, and he was ready to pour.

🦇 The Hidden Hills Restaurant by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {E, 4k}

“Are you sure you want to hear about this? Wouldn’t you rather hear about what I’ll do to you? How often? How long? How many fin—“

“I like to get to know my potential clients before agreeing to anything,” Louis says and lays down the menu. He’s thinking of steak. Something meaty, juicy, and hearty.

Harry’s arched eyebrow at the word ‘potential’ doesn’t escape Louis’ notice.

or the one where Louis is a personal feeder and Harry is the vampire to be his next client

🦇 Rapture by @allwaswell16 {E, 3k}

It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?

🦇 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt {G, 3k}

“Little dove,” Louis crooned, making Harry shiver a little, affected, “you’re shaking. Do you want to bite?” Harry stilled. He knew what Louis was asking. He knew Louis probably could sense how in dire need of comfort he was. He knew Louis was offering. And yet- “No,” he whispered, even as he felt the strong urge to let his lips trace the well-known path to the spot he usually bit into, “I could hurt you.” “Harry, my darling, you haven’t hurt me once in the numerous times you’ve needed to bite. Today will be no different. You know it’ll do you good.” Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, torn. In the end, it was an offer he was too weak to resist. “So…do you want to? Little taste?” “Yeah,” Harry rasped out, “please.”

Or, Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.

90 notes · View notes

ansxit · 2 years

Text

The Beauty and the Dreaming

[Morpheus x Reader (Beauty and the Beast Au)]

a/n} Yesyes I did post about the Howl's moving castle au,,, but this came first in my brain so here it is! i assure anyone who will read this though, the hmc au is on the way !! (will probably post it later this week lolol) btw comment if you want to be part of a tag list for this series !

(Also!! Please reblog + like!! It would really mean a lot to me !! <3)

Prologue, Part 1

- The cruel King of Dreams is cursed by a witch, doomed to be a beast forever and to be forgotten by humanity. But what happens when a determined woman finds herself in the abandoned halls, and happens to fall in love with the unlikeliest of people.

TW] Small Description of bone disfigurement

~Prologue~

There are trivial things known to the world, many mortals dedicate their lives and lineage seeking power, glory, fame. It's a deep concern as to why beings with no need for the shimmering stones or acknowledgment within history would want. But maybe in their anthropomorphic personification’s hearts lay the same greed a dragon has to their hoard. Or in the way a king will still demand everything from nothing; either way, beings such as the endless decided to want, and the frivolous things they surrounded themselves with became the utmost important in society.

One of these beings was none other than the King of Nightmares, ruler of the dreaming; Dream of the Endless. His kingdom in the mortal plane was grandiose and, to put it simply, beautiful. Ivory walls, golden inlay held just the support of the palace’s walls. The gardens were vast and endless, with blossoming flowers stretching towards the horizon, their soft petals drinking in the bright sun. The knowledge held between the walls of the palace was more than what could be gathered in several lifetimes. There was a nearby village, one full of his citizens who he liked to call Dreams, amongst them lived his creation called Nightmares. Together they lived to serve him and the grounds, and in return lived peacefully amongst the flowers and trees.

No mortals were permitted past the kingdom's gates, however. It was the one law the King enforced with an iron will, but eventually under the threat of his siblings, they were finally permitted past the gates for one night and one night alone.

On this fateful night, the sun was shielded from the kingdom, the dark clouds murmuring bringing upon an unwelcome storm.

“You act like you are going to a funeral.” Jessamy stated dryly. She moved to the other side of Dream, taking another pin and not-so subtlety stabbing him in the elbow with it. The suit he adorned was black, with the subtlest hints of gray when the candlelight struck. Each seam was pressed neatly, and just below his collar lay a glinting red ruby.

“I might as well be,” Dream declared, side eyeing her. Her dark skin blended beautifully with the black garbs she donned for that night. The patterns on her skirt matched the ones on his vest. It was a familial sign, perhaps even one of trust. “A party, inviting simple mortals into my palace.” He shook himself and Jessamy sent him a glare.

“Those ‘mortals’ are your people too; All of them dream, therefore they belong here just the same.”

“They are insects, crawling and destroying any life they are granted with. Let it be a miracle to them they are even permitted past the gardens.” The Lord of Dreams squared his shoulders, daring her to even attempt an argument. Jessamy lifted her chin, defiance glimmering in her clever eyes.

“My lord, if you will-”

“Sire,” a voice interrupted from the door. Standing there was a woman in a blue vest, with a pocket watch held out like an offering. “Forgive me for the intrusion, but there is a woman requesting your presence.” The Lord of Dreams stepped off the podium, not sparing Jessamy a single glance.

Enchanting music swirled around him as they exited the West Wing, making their way to the main hall where the party was commencing. Servants bowed as the Lord of Dreams passed, and many of the partygoers below the bannister whispered at the shadows that followed behind him. Outfits with stark white frills floated around the room, the chandeliers casting bright light above them all, and the musicians sat in the far left corner of the room, their director joyfully conducting the tune. The King looked down at the dreamers, the smallest of smiles gracing his lips.

How could mortals beat the beauty that were his citizens, it was a question that needed no answer; they could never compare.

“She seeks an audience with you,” Lucienne whispered, motioning towards an older woman, gazing at the golden decor with wonder in her eyes. The longer the king stared at her, a feeling of uneasiness slipped through him, and the dreamers that surrounded her appeared to sense it too.

The rain beat like a steady drum against the windows, lightning flashed as the cloaked woman side-stepped into three, all holding the same cutting eyes. But when the thunder roared to follow, it was the one beggar woman, knelt in front of him.

“Your highness,” The woman whispered, her gnarled hand reaching out to grab at his lapel. “Please, let me seek shelter from this storm- there will be no trouble amongst your realm, I will leave when the sun breaks.” Dream slowly took her hand off of him, and his lips curled in disgust.

“You have no right,” He paused, his tone laced with poison, “to lay your hands upon me.” Old anger as hot as burning stars shot through him, and the shadows that danced behind him grew taller and leaner.

“My lord please, I beg of-”

“You shall beg nothing of me,” He sneered, “You will leave my palace at once, and my realm for that matter. And if I ever see your face again, you will live to regret it.”

The woman knelt to the floor, dejected. The Lord moved to walk away, finished with the events of the party, but stopped when what sounded like laughter began to radiate from her weathered bones. The King of Dreams watched the one woman revealed to be three, and for the first time in his existence, He felt afraid.

Wrenching gasps and screams filled the room as most of the party goers watched the women orbit around their king, all cackling as he spun to protect himself. The harsh rain rattled the windows, threatening to break them.

“One shall not turn down the fates that lead you,” The Crone sneered at him, her eyes piercing his soul like a sharpened blade, twisting deeper into the grooves of his very being.

“You are still young and foolish, Endless.” The Mother tutted, reaching out to grab his chin before shoving Dream away. “Appearances are deceiving, but you won’t worry about that anymore.”

He fell into the shoulders of the Maiden, who giggled and kicked him to the ground.

“You shall be cursed with a beast as cruel and ugly as your heart,” The Maiden said, her black eyes shimmering as the mist began to swirl around Dream. “Since you act like a monster, why not look like one as well.” The air became heavy in the circle casted around him, and Dream found himself

“A wall will be cast, the mortals will forget you and your pitiful prowess.” The Mother stalked around him, cackling as he tried to stand, but invisible forces shackled him to the ground, as if his own shadows strangled him.

“It will stretch as far as your gates, so no one may ever find you again,” The Crone sneered, “You will be forgotten, and maybe then you shall learn humility again.” The one that was three began to circle him, a gray mist swept through the ballroom, the guests all but gone as the magic ran to capture them all.

The sounds of bones popping and crunching competed with the symphony of the storm raging outside, as well as the loud cackling from the Fates. In the distant halls, Dream could hear the cries of his servants and citizens. The dreams and nightmares that brought meaning to his realm, swept into the storm of his mistakes. As his collarbones cracked, he finally caved and let out a horrid scream- one that felt to shatter the windows and crack the mountains holding his realm together.

Many centuries passed, and the people outside the kingdoms forgot about the Sandman and his realm. Nightmares ran rampant through the waking world, and mortals fell into fitful dreams, terrorized by the fears that followed them.

“Y/n!”

A voice broke you out of your reverie, and warm hands pulled you out of the way of an oncoming wagon. With a beating heart, you turned to find your younger sister, Rose and behind her, Jed who was flushed from trying to pull the both of you back onto the sidewalk.

“What on earth were you thinking?” Rose chastised, “You’re going to give me gray hairs, and we’re not even thirty yet!” Her tone was playful, but the way she gripped your hand told you she was terribly worried; well, for good reason, You supposed.

“Oh, just daydreaming I suppose.” You squeezed her hand and smiled down at Jed. “I dreamt of a fantastical castle, with gold everywhere the eye could see.” He broke out into a grin and you eagerly continued on. “There were these two little raven’s concocting mischievous plans.” Rose Simple rolled her eyes and, with you and Jed in separate hands, walked you both through the traffic and into the markets.

“Like those ones?” Jed pointed, and you followed his hand to some black birds perched on one of the building's roofs.

“Hm, I believe those are crows, but it’s a common mistake to make. In my dreams the ravens were accompanied by…” You trailed off, and watched two men walking together in the distance, the happiest of smiles on their faces. Your heart tugged as they reached to hold each other’s hands, faintly remembering wisps of black hair. “A beautiful prince.” You finished, and Rose turned back to give you a questioning glance.

“And this prince was very kind,” A soft smile crossed your features and you reached over to grab Jed’s hand. “He treated his subjects fairly and there was never a cloudy day in their kingdom.” He hummed and they lazily swung their interlocked hands.

“Well what happened next?” Jed asked, letting you lead him out of the way of other pedestrians as Rose hurried on to hit all of the needs from the grocery list.

“I dunno, I suppose I’ll find out tonight when I dream again.” You grinned.

“Rosie, I want to dream too!” He exclaimed, running up past them both and climbing onto the fountain’s edge. “I want to be a prince with a castle and ravens.” Kids and adults alike stopped what they were doing to watch Jed balance on the fountain. The nearest people covered their child’s ears, while most hurried to move away from him. Some noticed you as well, averting their gazes and keeping a wide berth away from You and Rose.

“That’d be lovely, wouldn’t it bud,” Rose said, turning to give you a hard stare and motioning towards the vendors. She went up to him and held his hand as he walked along the side, “But we have Y/n’s dreams, and her stories— so it's better that she tells them, right Jed?”

You sighed, choosing to ignore whatever convincing argument Rose said to satiate Jed for the evening, instead beginning to pick out some fresh fruits from the bin. Dreaming was a finicky thing nowadays, with some falling asleep and never waking up, as if in a coma; Which made people fear everytime they fell asleep. Most simply never dream, just drifting through the nothingness for the hours until they awoke. But you had been one of the lucky few, if not only, people who still dreamt. While they weren’t as much as the fantastical adventures you would tell to Jed before sending him to sleep, they were still special in their own right. But nothing was wrong with a little extra imagination every now and then.

The golden kingdom still tugged at your mind as you purchased the fruits, thanking the man and going to find Rose again, hoping she wasn't as furious as she pretended to be. As you walked away, you noticed an annoyingly familiar face jogging to catch up to you.

“Y/n, wait up!” Rowan called, briskly passing people and giving you a cheeky grin the closer he came. Now, you were not a hateful person; but Rowan was absolutely the exception. He was vulgar, loud, obnoxious, and somehow the prized jewel of the town you and your siblings resided in. According to every other woman in the village, he was the handsomest, rugged, and had everyone tripping over themselves to even get his attention. He had money to waste, and one of the most skilled huntsmen in the town. Beside him was “Hey,” He greeted, “What're you doing here?”

“Oh, Hello,” You greeted with a grimace. “We’re getting groceries, like many others are today.”

“We?” Rowan’s eyes narrowed and he began looking behind you. “Have you been holding out on me N/n? Last I heard you weren't interested in anyone.”

A warm hand slid into yours and you looked over to see a very pissed off Rose glaring up at him. Behind her was Jed, holding her basket of vegetables from earlier.

“We, as in her family. Besides, it's not your business whether or not she’s courting someone.” Rose squared her shoulders and if it was even possible, Rowan narrowed his eyes further.

“He's not worth it,” You sighed and as you moved to walk away, Rowan’s hand shot out like a snake and grabbed your wrist.

“Come on, Y/n, just let me take you out for one night— I can make it worth your while.” You grimaced and wrenched your arm away.

“No offense, but I wouldn’t consider it even if you were the last man on earth.” You took Rose’s hand and started walking back to the path home, with Jed walking two paces ahead.

As you walked off, one of Rowan’s hunting buddies came up beside him, and clapped him on the back.

“I don’t see why you leave them alone, you said it yourself on how you despise her spitfire of a sister.”

Rowan smiled at your reatreating figure andturned around to face his friend.

“That's where you’re right, but oh so wrong. It's the evasive prey that make it the best hunt. She'll come around, and that's when I'll make her my wife.”

“I don’t like the way he talks to you.” Rose grumbled, holding open the door for Jed with her hip. You sighed and grabbed the basket from her arms and set it on the table inside. “I mean who does he think he is? The king of England?” You snorted and Jed started giggling.

“He certainly has audacity where he lacks brains,” You mused, lighting a match to get started on dinner. “I'm thinking some stew for tonight, how about you?” You looked over at Jed, who was sorting through the fresh produce. He looked up and nodded at you, and Rose walked over to join him— getting a pail out to wash the fruits in.

Jed started to hum as he worked, with you and Rose joining in occasionally. It was a song their mother had taught them, and eventually found it's way to you when you were all younger. Between the three of you, You had a different mother than them, being born just weeks before Rose was due. There was a little strain on your family relationship, but once your guys’ father left the picture, the hurt became easier and there became no blur between you and your siblings anymore. While you and Rose were similar in age, you took on the responsibility of caring for the two of them when their mom passed away. Of course, Rose wouldn’t let you take all the responsibility, and together you tried the best you could to give Jed the best childhood he deserved.

At times it became difficult, but when there were moments like these, it made everything worth it.

But what none of the siblings realized, that this would be the last peaceful dinner any of them could have for a long, long time.

Despite what Rose had said, Jed always knew the stories Y/n were actually just her dreams. He had tried to read the same books as her, trying to find the ending to whatever bedtime story he sought that night, but they weren’t the same, and his imagination couldn’t do it justice. But he didn’t quite understand

His teacher wasn’t too pleased to have him tell the wonders of dreaming to his classmates, and after Rose found out, Y/n stopped talking about the Sandman. Instead, she talked about day-dreaming, using her imagination to create her own adventures to tell to her little brother.

He desperately wanted to dream, he wanted to go on incredible journeys he imagined and go back to his sisters and get to tell them the stories of his adventures. But his wish remained ungranted, and sleep became a very disappointing venture.

But then, one fateful night, he found himself wandering a lush garden, with hedges twice his height, and flowers that bloomed colors he had never seen before. A childish joy overtook him as he ran through the gardens, wild animals and butterflies took off as he chased the breeze that flew around him. He finally broke through the garden and his jaw dropped in amazement as Y/n's storytelling voice drifted through as a reminder.

A grandiose, golden castle sat in the center of the garden, with a fresh snow falling from the skies above. With the castle was clearly in disarray, it meant nothing to the young boy who could finally find an adventure for himself.

The grand floor was completely deserted, and no candles were lit as far as Jed could tell. “Maybe the prince had found a different castle.” Jed thought to himself, running his hands along the ivory railing and sneezed at the dust that flew into his face. Soft whispered trailed behind him at he climbed the stairs, but he couldn't care less; First he wanted to explore.

Jed managed to find a ballroom with the windows shattered in it, many many guest rooms that he believed could house the entire village if it wanted to. He also found a dining hall and kitchens, and then finally he stumbled upon the master bedroom.

While the rest of the castle appeared to just lack some dusting, this room seemed to have been pillaged- or as if a wild beast was set free to destroy everything in its path. He found a painting of a pale man with wispy black hair and equally black eyes, but it's face had been slashed and it's frame was cracked in many places. Jed grinned as he began to imagine whatever prince owned this castle facing in a terrible battle to defend his citizens and the final showdown happening in the very room he stood in.

In the far right of the room, lit perfectly by the moonlight was a rose protected by a glass dome.

“The treasure the prince was protecting,” Jed whispered excitedly. He reached out to touch the glass but a giant clawed hand grabbed his wrist painfully before he could do so. Gold shivers wracked his body as he looked up at the beast that had caught him.

He'd couldn’t find the words as he stared at the monstrosity that towered over him. It must've been at least seven foot, with black, matted fur draped over its hulking form, feathers protruded from the creatures should blades into giant wings, and it stood on hind legs, like a person would. The creature wore tattered royal clothing and a glinting, red ruby hung from it’s neck. The scariest thing about it though, Jed thought as he saw the pointy fangs protruding from the creatures mouth, was it's incredibly human-like eyes. Intact, they looked just like the dark eyes in the painting of the prince Jed had seen.

“What are you doing in here, mortal,” It snarled, and Jed whimpered as the grip on his wrist tightened. “You trespass into a realm that is not meant for your pitiful existence.”

“I'm- I'm sorry!” Jed cried, and fast crocodile tears rolled down his face. “I just wanted to have an adventure, I didn’t realize—!” He broke off into sobs as the creature bared its razor-sharp teeth again.

“You should have known better, boy.” He hissed. “You mortals are all the same, destroying any good thing we have left. Maybe if we lock you up for an eternity you shall learn your lesson.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Jed cried again, and the beast wrenched his arm hard enough to pop his shoulder. The boy let out a terrible scream as he was dragged deep below the kingdom. His cell was small, and there was little moonlight that made it through the bars.

“It's just a dream, it's just a dream.” Jed told himself, but when he opened his eyes, he was still in the prison. He pinched his arm, nothing. More sobs wracked through his body and he curled up into himself. Rose was right, dreaming was too dangerous for him, and now he'd never see his sisters again.

a/n} Please reblog + like!! It would really mean a lot to me !! <3

#fanfiction #dream of the endless #the sandman #morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream of the endless x reader #beauty and the dreaming #beauty and the beast Au #lucienne #morpheus x y/n #morpheus x you #the sandman netflix #morpheus fic #morpheus fanfiction #rose walker #jed walker

525 notes · View notes

callmemana · 1 year

Text

Jake Hangman Seresin Fanfic: 1

Key: smut - 🌸/ fluff - 🦋 / angst - ☂️/ personal favorite - 👓/

A glimpse of Us @call-sign-jinx ☂️👓

Better Man Universe @sweetlittlegingy 🌸🦋☂️👓

Conveniently Yours Series @thesluttyarchivist 🌸👓

Country Girl, Shake It For Me @nomtterwhere 🦋

Church Encounters @barbiewritesstuff & @lgg5989 🌸🦋☂️👓

Do Not Disturb @callsignvalley 🌸🦋

Does The Father Know? @topguncortez ☂️👓

First and Second @seresinhangmanjake 🦋👓

Flyboy Universe @kryptonitejelly 🦋☂️👓

Gravedigger’s Daughter @honeypiehotchner 🌸🦋☂️👓

How Do You Live Somebody Else @softspiderling 👓

How They Met: Hangman @mrsjaderogers 🌸☂️👓

Imagine Hangman Caught Leaving Your Room @write4tomorrow 🦋👓

In Too Deep @sunlightmurdock 🌸🦋☂️👓

Jukebox War @roosterforme 🦋👓

Just A Little Weak @seresinhangmanjake 🌸🦋

More Heart Than Mine Universe @fandomxpreferences 🦋☂️👓

Never Knew @softspiderling 🌸

Not My Jake @roosterscock 🦋👓

Office Christmas Party @footprintsinthesxnd 🌸🦋☂️

One Night Stand @topguncortez 🦋👓

Operation Apollo @sunlightmurdock 🌸☂️👓

Opposites Attract Universe @topguncortez 🌸🦋☂️👓

Paint It Black @eternalsams 🦋👓

Parking Spots and Mocha lattes 2 @withahappyrefrain 🌸🦋👓

Pink Stripes @heartsofminds 🦋☂️👓

Professor Seresin Series @topguncortez 🌸☂️👓

Safe Zone (+Rooster) @sunlightmurdock 🌸☂️👓

Scrapes and Bruises @seresinhangmanjake 🦋☂️

Signed Away Series @seresinhangmanjake 🌸🦋☂️👓

Sun-kissed @ddejavvu 🦋👓

Strike Out @jupitercomet 🌸🦋☂️👓

Sweet Nothings @sweetlittlegingy 🌸🦋☂️👓

The Douche Bag Jar @jupitercomet 🌸🦋☂️👓

The One Who Got Away @fandomxpreferences ☂️👓

The One Who Came Back @fandomxpreferences ☂️👓

The One Piece @siempre-bucky 🌸👓

There’s a Honey @bussyslayer333 🌸🦋👓

To Have And To Hold @ohtobeleah 🌸☂️

Touch and Go @seresinhangmanjake 🌸🦋☂️

Wants and Needs @seresinhangmanjake 🌸🦋☂️

Wanting It All @seresinhangmanjake 🌸🦋☂️👓

Warning: Do Not Engage @clints-lucky-arrow 🌸

We Used To Be In Love Series @honeypiehotchner ☂️

Were You Ever Gonna Tell Me @bradshawsbitch 🌸🦋👓

We’re Expecting A Baby, But It Could Be A Dinosaur @gennyanydots 🦋👓

Winter 1 @demxters ☂️👓

Witching Hour @constillatedchaos 🦋

Who Did This To You? @justfandomwritings ☂️👓m

203 notes · View notes

candyrockpop · 11 months

Text

A Deep Dive

Merfolk!Eddie Dear x GN!Reader

CW/TW -- Cussing, mentions of the ocean, swimming, deep diving, being stranded, near death experience via drowning, unknown sea creatures, possible large sea creature, mermaids

Summery: You are participating in a deep sea exploration when something goes terribly wrong. You black out and when you wake up you're on an island, stranded, and are now in the company of a merfolk who doesn't speak your language. The sun is setting soon and you desperately need shelter, but this merman seems to have a delivery for you...

“Gods, why did I sign up for this?” I thought as I descended into the deep waters of the ocean. I was about 1737 ft (about 529.44 m) down and counting, and my body was hurting pretty bad from the amount of pressure. It’s a miracle that my gear has survived this long and this deep. Hell, it's a miracle I've survived this deep! “Come in diver, are you alive and safe?” Echoed the earpiece in my ear.

Somehow, three years ago, someone invented an earpiece and oxygen tank duo that allowed someone to dive to extremely deep waters without damage to the equipment. Some believed that it was a witch that made it, others thought it was a hoax, but it didn’t matter since it worked.

That was how I got here, far too deep in water that could potentially kill me. “I’m here. All seems safe, I think.” I spoke, but of course, I jinxed myself. After I spoke a low rumble began, and I swore I could feel it in my chest. All a sudden the chord above me snapped, sending me deeper into a seemingly bottomless ocean.

I panicked and tried to swim up to the surface but my oxygen tank was running low and if I went up too fast it could kill me. I was stuck. I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me, either. I tried to look around, maybe there was a cave nearby? I didn’t find anything and I couldn't help but think, “Is this how I'm gonna die? Stuck in the ocean where no one will ever find my body?”

I heard the beeping of my oxygen tank. It ran out.

I couldn’t breathe, there was no air left.

I blacked out.

I woke up coughing. Did I drown? Is this the afterlife? I reached up to check my pulse, but I still had a heartbeat. I must still be alive, then, right?

I looked around, noticing I was on a beach. It seemed like an island since there was no sign of life other than animals and a person peeking out of the water.

...A person peeking out of the water? My head jerked towards the ocean, eyes skimming the surface before landing on a man's head above the surface of the water. “H-Hey! Can you help me? I don’t know where I am!” I shouted to try and get him to talk since his attention was already on me. It didn’t work. He turned and swam away, leaving me alone. I sighed and my shoulders slumped as my head fell into my hands.

I heard a splash and quickly looked up. The man...was back...

Holy shit, he's a mermaid. “Holy shit you have a fucking tail!” I exclaimed without thinking. He looked at me hesitantly before nodding. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself a little before looking him over. He seemed to have some sort of seal tail, but I didn’t recognize the species. His tail was white with grey freckles, though some colorful freckles, too. His upper half was orange with red hair, too. Not any sort of human, or at least a subhuman species, then.

He made a series of clicking noises and looked worried. I must've zoned out. “Uh, do you know how I got here...?” I were hesitant to ask, but it had to be done. He nodded and made some more clicks, pointing towards himself with a grin. I looked at him, surprised and confused, “So, wait, you saved me? You didn't just see me here and decide to say 'hi!' or something?” He nodded again. He seemed to understand me considering he was answering me okay.

“Okay, so am I near any sort of human civilization...?” I questioned. He shook his head with a frown. I sighed and tried not to laugh out of something akin to frustration. I groan, “Right, I was exploring the deeper waters of the ocean before the chord snapped. Wait,” I paused to look at him cautiously, “how did I survive if I was that deep with no oxygen...?” He at least looked sheepish before clicking more.

He seemed to blush before getting too flustered and jumping back into the water. "Great, now I'm alone, there’s no shelter, and its beginning to get dark." I stood up and exhaled. “Alright, let's see if I remember anything from those TikTok videos, I guess.” I walked to tree line, swatting bugs out of my face and making sure to pay heed to my surroundings and where i stood.

I didn’t walk much further, not wanting to get lost. I made a makeshift tent out of sticks, leaves, more sticks, and broken tree limbs with the leaves attached. “Gods, I hope this works, or that it doesn’t rain...” My thoughts trailed off as I heard more clicking noises in the distance. I groaned quietly, turning around and walking back towards the beach. I made sure to mark the entrance, or at least where I walked, to get to my makeshift tent.

The merman was back, and he seemed to have a sort of messenger bag with him. It was an array of colors, and I don’t know how it was so many different colors since it looked to be made out of seaweed. I mean, I can understand the greens, reds, and maybe the yellows. The blues and purples on the other hand... “You know what? I'm just gonna stop asking questions right now...” I muttered under my breath. The Mer tilted his head. I shook my head in response and he just started pulling things out of his bag.

Were...were those fucking boxes?!

“What the actual hell...? How do those even...? I...” I was so confused. How in the hell did they even fit in there? Was it a magical messenger bag? I wouldn’t be surprised if it was considering mermaids exist. He pushes the boxes towards me with a smile. I cautiously look at the small label on it. It is addressed to me.

Okay, fuck this, this is creepy! I stare at the box for a few minutes, just contemplating on opening it or not. I don’t know whats in that box, for all I know it could kill me! Then again, what if it's somehow something useful...?

I cannot actually be considering this...

Hello! Happy pride month! I'll take this moment to say I'm a proud gender-fluid omnisexual! 🏳️‍🌈

I hope everyone is doing good, and if you aren't I hope that it gets better soon. I hope you enjoyed reading and thank you for doing so. I have a hard time writing Eddie normally so I tried something else instead. And one last thing, this is 1,064 words. It doesn't look like it, but it is.

59 notes · View notes

elena-mayfair · 2 years

Text

Fallout

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, horror images, graphic violence, adult themes, reader discretion is advised Summary: And after night comes day, and after the storm comes peace, or does it really? A week after chaos overtook the world, Witch and Dream of the Endless find themselves in a new reality, a reality that must be rebuilt. Both must face the fallout that their actions have brought. Will they find some peace and relief? Word count: 4.4k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors

Series Masterlist Part ten: Raging storm

***

"I had forgotten what this feels like…" from Morpheus' outstretched hand glittering grains of golden sand emerged, shimmering in the light of the bright morning sun. They slowly fell to the earth only to transform the bare ground into a dense, green forest. It surrounded the foothills of majestic mountains whose snowy peaks reached all the way to the sky. The trees hummed a gentle song as the wind softly caressed their branches and leaves, they spread their arms as if welcoming an old friend. They bowed their crowns to Morpheus before greeting the mountains. The mountains responded to the greeting with a smile only to greet the river in which crystal clear water they could admire their majestic reflections. The grass dressed in green, the shrubs took on all the colors of the rainbow, and the birds and insects sang with every tone of voice given to them. From the golden grains of sand, life was created.

"My Lord," Lucienne walked up to him, "This...this is beautiful..." she gasped with admiration, "I'm so glad to see you are back, and with your full power at your command."

"I had forgotten..." Morpheus looked closely at his own hands as he rubbed grains of sand between his fingers, "I had forgotten how much of my power I had placed in that jewel. How much of it was denied to me..." he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "I must remake this realm, not as it once was, but as a new." he stated.

"My Lord, Dreams and Nightmares had begun to return, they will need their own settlements."

"As expected," he affirmed shortly.

"Unfortunately many of them are still in the Waking World..." she added quietly, "Especially Nightmares, they seem to thrive there."

Morpheus merely looked at her. In her eyes, he was the commanding Ruler of this realm once again. Yet, he had changed. Even though he dominated with his presence, there was a sign of something different in his eyes and in the tone of voice, something new yet old at the same time, something that had been long forgotten, something she had not seen in him in billions of years.

"Dreams and Nightmares seem to no longer recognize their Master. I will find them and bring them all home," he stated in a stern voice. "For now, I must speak with Matthew. I have a task that he shall complete for me."

He turned away from the newly created forest and directed himself towards the castle that began to renew. Yet the thought stopped him in his step.

"Something is missing..." he murmured quietly mostly to himself. Once again he disappeared into the woods. The trees, upon seeing their master, parted before him, providing him with a path. At his silent command, they gathered into a small circle shading a small clearing with their branches. With a nod of his head, he thanked the trees then looked at the clearing and gently smiled at it as it gracefully covered itself with white flower vines of fragrant jasmine. "I had forgotten how that feels..."

Lucienne only glanced silently at her Master's newly formed creation, delight painted itself on her face. With her watchful eye, she looked at him stealthily. His eyes were closed, he was deeply inhaling the sweetness of the flowers. At that moment she knew that more had changed in the being she had known for millennia than he himself was willing to admit. She saw peace on his face. The times when her Master enjoyed the scent of flowers were long forgotten, yet unexpectedly they seemed to have returned.

"My Lord...I hate to interrupt your work but there is one more thing..." Morpheus only stood there in silence, drowning himself in the beauty of the world around him, "The library had begun to return," she continued as if his silence was permission, "and along with the library the first book appeared," she hesitated for a moment, "It bares her name o the cover."

***

You stayed at the Missouri house for another week. You needed a moment of rest after everything that had happened, you needed the peace and quiet that you so easily came to find in your friend's cozy home. And you desperately needed her Asfodelus potions. You didn't have the smallest desire to go back to your normal life. It was enough that normal life, without your permission, flowed into the surrounding peacefulness through TV and radio. Scientists and the media could not clearly decide what caused the global wave of violence. Some claimed it was a collective hallucination triggered by the leak of mind-controlling biological weapons. Others, the ones who were thinking more freely, claimed that the influence of an unusual alignment of planets and stars caused people to lose their minds for 24 hours. Of course, there were also voices saying that aliens were testing humanity and their influence on human behavior, or that the hand of god himself had reached out to give humanity a foretaste of Armageddon. However, a surprising amount of people simply moved on with blissful ignorance, as if nothing had ever happened. Humans have an astonishing talent for distorting from consciousness things that cannot be explained.

Yet, on a smaller scale, one could see uncertainty and fear in their eyes. Neighbors were greeting each other on the street with surreptitious glances, smiles diminished and weakened. People, whenever they could, hid in their homes, as if their own four walls could protect them from potential danger. Conversations on the streets and in stores became quieter, more reserved. The number of people in churches and other places of worship increased. The number of people in bars and clubs also increased, with those who decided to live life to the fullest now after they survived the end of the world. Everyone reacted in their own way, and you knew it would take a long time until people completely forget what had happened.

Together with Missouri, you helped whoever you could in your neighborhood. Although you needed rest and peace, you couldn't ignore people in need. "Listen to the world in pain." John Dee's voice sounded insistently in your head every time you saw a saddened face on the street. Despite Missouri's objections, you took in and nursed the beaten dog back to health, he was now lying by the fireplace, quietly breathing and dreaming what dogs dream about. Broken ribs and paws slowly began to heal, his appetite returned, and the gratitude in his doggy eyes told you that he would live with Missouri forever. You also helped a neighbor whose husband burned himself in front of her and her children. You helped as much as you could, after all, some horrors cannot be erased with a warm word and a homemade cake. And once again the human ability to suppress facts amazed you when your neighbor, Suzan, never asked how did you put out the burning car with the will of your mind. In the look of her and her children's eyes, there was no fear, no apprehension, there was only gratitude. All of Missouri's neighbors recognized her as a medium, a good woman who supposedly could see the future and the past. There were requests for her to tell them what their future would be, there were pleading glances directed in your direction, glances that silently asked without knowing exactly what they might ask for. However, both you and Missouri had a rule not to use your abilities on civilians in situations other than necessary. People had to deal with their trauma in a natural way, no matter how long it took, magic would deprive them of this opportunity, magic was an easy escape that robbed one of the ability to heal, the ability to grieve.

"I know that this is against all the rules that we established in our relationship, and you will probably refuse, but I have a favor to ask," you started. You were sitting in the kitchen, drinking your afternoon coffee, as she was preparing dinner. Back then you didn't know that this was meant to be the last dinner that you will have together for a very long time.

"Go on!" she encouraged as she stirred in the pan.

"I would like you to look into my future..." you requested quietly and Missouris' hand froze for a second in the pan.

"I'm sorry I must have misunderstood you," she turned to you and folded her hands on her chest, her eyes were glaring at you dangerously, "You are damn right missy! I will not do that! Why on Earth would you even ask me that!!"

"Oh come on!! Just this once! With all that is happening around me lately, I think this perfectly reasonable thing to ask!" you pleaded.

"Stay away from the Sandman and you won't have to worry about your future!"

"Missouri..." you attempted a sad puppy look but you could never master it, no one ever bought it even for a second.

"I warned you once didn't I?! Despite my better judgment I told you to stay away from this one! You obviously didn't listen. People are not meant to know their future! Witches or civilians!"

"Come on!! I can handle it!!" you begged. "Please, just this once, little sneaky look! Please, do this for me." She didn't answer anything, just angrily turned back to the steaming pots and started stirring them nervously one by one. You, however, knew, you knew that she would do what you asked her to do.

***

After dinner, you sat down in a small room that Missouri treated as her office. It was much smaller than the other rooms in the house, even one tiny window was always covered by a thick maroon curtain. A small couch stood against the wall, and on the other side, a small table stood between two armchairs. On each side, you were surrounded by stacks of books, which you loved paging through and comparing with your own collection.

"Where did you get that?" you asked, holding up an extremely old volume entitled "Dreamwalking and Astral Projection - A case study"

"Oh, Bobby Singer gave it to me some time ago," she brushed off.

"I bet it was right after you told him that I'm hanging out with the Sandman..." you sneered.

"Don't you get all sassy with me, missy!" she nagged her finger, "you are walking a thin line here! Looking into one future, unbelievable..." that last part she murmured mostly to herself. "Come. Sit down," she turned the chairs in the way so you would face each other.

You sat down as she ordered, and to your surprise nervousness suddenly caused your heart to beat faster. You needed to know, with everything that had happened in your life recently you needed to know what the future held for you. In your mind, this knowledge could prepare you for anything.

"You know that no future is set in stone. Whatever I am about to see doesn't have to come true," her eyes were filled with tension as well.

"Of course, I know that!"

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure." despite nervousness speeding up your heartbeat you had not hesitated for a second.

"I can't believe that I'm doing this for you...." she muttered and shook her head in disbelief.

"That's what friends are for right?" you smirked.

"Oh hush you!" she scolded you with frowned brows, "Keep quiet and listen to me!" you nodded in agreement, "First of all I need you to take off whatever magical objects you got on you. I don't want to get any interference." you nodded again and reached under your blouse for your pentacle amulet. You hesitated as your hand traveled to your pocket to reach for a vile of sand. You placed them safely on the table, somehow without them you felt naked, unprotected. As soon as you took your hand from them Missouris' eyes darted at the vial.

"What is that..." she almost whispered.

"You know damn well what that is..." you could feel another lecture coming.

"Where did you get that?"

"Morpheus...he gave it to me..." you replied quietly.

"Gave it to you?!" her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes. He gave it to me," you repeated, "Back when we were in Hell. I wanted to give it back but he asked me to keep it. He said it was a gift."

"Child...this is a powerful object...." she looked fearfully at the vial, "Mortals are not equipped to possess objects like this, god only knows what it can do to you! What kind of control it can place over you!"

"I can..." you started quietly, "I can hold it, and I'm pretty sure that Morpheus knows that..." Missouri gazed at you questioningly so you continued, "I can, well... sort of use it. When I hold it, it sort of amplifies my powers. But doesn't give me new ones, just amplifies the ones that I have. During last week's events, I could hear a voice in my head, the voice of the man who was doing all of it, but it wasn't speaking to me. I think he was talking to Morpheus and I sort of overheard it. It was like I heard Morpheus's thoughts. When I touched the vial, I saw him. I saw Morpheus and he saw me," in your friend's eyes you saw fear mixed with fascination, "The same thing happened while we've been in Hell. You saw images in my head. I could hear and sense things around me before I even touched the vial. But when I touched it I could see it all...I could see it all and more...it was like my eyes had suddenly opened only to reveal a whole different world hidden behind the veil."

"But you had it with you, it was in your pocket..." she interrupted.

"You're right. But I didn't have it when I ventured in my dreams to his Realm. More than once. I haven't even known him..." you lowered your voice again, "I'm telling you. For some reason, I can use it."

Missouri did not answer anything, she only looked suspiciously at the vial and after a moment pushed it further away with her hand hidden under the sleeve of her blouse. She was afraid to touch it.

"How long do you have this neckless?" She gazed at your silver neckless with a pentacle pendant.

"I had it for ages! Why?"

"It's got strange energy..." her eyes peered through the amulet in concentration, "Can't you feel it? I don't know what is it, but it's got strange energy... I've felt it since the moment you arrived."

"It is a pentacle embodied with amethyst stones infused with my own magic! Of course, it has strange energy!" you exclaimed, "Now you are just being silly! Are we doing this or not?"

Missouri only sighed heavily. One thing she knew perfectly well, stubbornness was one of your strengths, and if you refused to listen then her words were of no use.

"Close your eyes and try to relax," she instructed you, "and please, for my sake, try not to think about anything that I do not want to know!" she warned, "Just keep your mind clear, do not think about anything or anyone, breath steady."

You closed your eyes and did as instructed. For a moment, images of the previous week's events tried to invade your mind, you had to focus all your will on the all-encompassing blackness and your own breathing. Missouri waited, waited while observing as your eyes stopped twitching nervously under closed eyelids and your chest began to rise calmly and evenly.

"Good...." she gently took both your hands and closed them in her own, "just breath..."

For a moment you felt her presence in your own mind, you flinched, as your defense mechanisms automatically attempted to fight her. Missouri, however, only clenched her hands tighter on yours. It seemed as if it lasted an eternity, the darkness in front of your eyes, the silence so deafening that it began to ring in your ears, the warm touch of her hands on your own after a while began to cause an unpleasant tingling sensation.

"What do you see?" you whispered.

"I see..." she began, "I see...nothing..." she removed her hands and you opened your eyes.

"What do you mean, nothing? It didn't work?"

"No...it is not that..." her voice trembled.

"Oh my lord just tell me!!"

"I saw nothing, just darkness...I saw nothing... only darkness, all around you there was darkness, implacable, endless darkness. There were no images, no people, no places, just you and all around you endless darkness."

"Endless darkness..." you repeated in your mind, and involuntarily your thoughts led you to Morpheus. That's how it felt to be near him sometimes, that's how it felt to gaze into the universe in his eyes. Yet it was also an image of the void, the one that almost consumed him.

"What had he told you?" Missouri brought you back to reality, "You know, back then, before you threw yourself onto him," she did not pass up the opportunity to point this out to you.

"He asked me to go with him..." you whispered in contentment, "he asked me to go with him to his realm."

Only a quiet gasp escaped her lips, and she asked nothing more.

"Thank you for doing this for me," you smiled kindly, "I really appreciate that. I know that it was hard for you and I know that it was a lot to ask." you got up from a chair, and grabbed your things, the amulet was back on your neck and the sand vial was safely hidden in your pocket, "And thank you for this week. I know it wasn't exactly a vacation, but to me, it was the most precious time. I better get going. I bet my whole apartment smells like a two-week old laundry and left out trash," you smirked.

"My dear..." she stopped you by gently placing her hands on your shoulders, "I do not know what future awaits you, but I strongly implore you, to be careful. Seeing him talking with you got me thinking that perhaps I was wrong...perhaps..." she cut off the thought, "but still, please be careful. Please be smart and act on reason, not on emotions."

"I cannot promise that," you smirked again, "You know me..."

"And child...," she squizzed your arms gently and continued, "please stop blaming yourself for everything bad that happened. Turners, Jeffersons, that poor man, your parents...Y/N it is not your fault. Your parents died of natural causes, you cannot drive yourself to the grave trying to help everyone, you simply cannot help everyone. You can't save everyone..." tears shone in her concerned eyes.

"Jeffersons?" you saw regret slowly creeping onto her face, "Who are Jeffersons?"

"I thought you knew..." she mouthed apologetically.

"Poltergeist case?" a cold shiver ran through your body, a feeling you were beginning to get used to, after all, you had experienced it so often in recent weeks, "I've sent Constantine here..."

"He got here a few hours too late. They attempted to flee their house in the hurry, it was a particularly nasty ghost."

"What happened?"

"Car crash, head-on collision with a truck... no one survived."

A feeling of helplessness and anger flooded you completely. Suddenly all the good that you and Missouri had given back to the people in need had no longer mattered. For each life you saved, there were four sniffed away, four that you could not save. Four that, through your decisions, had ceased to exist. A new feeling suddenly arose in your heart, a desire, a desire to feel nothing anymore, a desire not to feel the despair that seemed to follow your every step.

"I think you should name the dog Ace, it is a good name for a Dane."

At least this life you could save, "at least he survived".

***

The moment your foot crossed the doorstep of your apartment you knew something was wrong. Your magical senses momentarily picked up strange energy in the air, a change, an energy that shouldn't be here. Without even turning on the light, you walked carefully through the entire apartment checking every room, from the bathroom to the bedroom. You found no one. Yet, your attention got drawn to the books scattered on the floor, to the candles that had been knocked over, and to the bed in disarray. You examined everything carefully as if looking for traces of someone who might have left them. "I think I'm already starting to lose my mind," you thought calmly, after all, the locks were secured, there was no sign of a break-in. After examining the front door and locks closely once more, you decided that you clearly must have left this mess when you left your apartment in a hurry more than a week ago.

The night was already deep, the hour was approaching two o'clock, so you decided that apartment cleaning will have to wait until tomorrow. You took a long relaxing shower, trying not to think about the Turners, drank a cup of vanilla tea trying not to think about the Jeffersons, smoked a couple of cigarettes trying not to think about the burning man, changed into your favorite black satin nightgown trying not to think about Hell and determined to fall asleep quickly you went to bed.

"At least Ace will have a good life now…"

***

Morpheus felt her presence the moment she entered the Dreaming. He was strolling along the riverfront talking to the wind and the mountains when suddenly his mind was pierced by that new familiar feeling, the one he couldn't name, the one he had begun to feel since he had traveled through Hell with her. He knew she was here, he knew she was dreaming. He nodded to the mountains and the river, thanked them for the conversation, then reached for his pouch of sand and disappeared into the golden swirls of grain.

He found himself in a long dark corridor, illuminated by a dimming frigid light. The metallic gray walls seemed to overwhelm as if they wanted to suffocate anyone who dared to walk through. He stopped for a moment and ran his fingers over the words scratched on them;

loser...weak...useless...powerless...hopeless...

your fault...you killed them...they died because of you...

you can't help anyone... just die already...

regret...grief...despair...

"So much pain…" words covered the walls of the entire corridor and around the doors, three doors, each hiding different grief. Yet, he knew which one she was behind. He reached out his hand and opened one of them. A wave of scents and images burst from inside and surrounded him in a rippled stream, the smells of blood and death, images of violence and despair, tried to push him away with a powerful overwhelming force. Memories that had shaped Nightmares, Nightmares that had not recognized their master. They obstructed his view, whispered to him...

leave her...leave her...she gave us shape...

leave her...she is ours...leave...

"Let me pass." he ordered, "This has gone far enough. You have exceeded your bounds.

The Nightmares had parted creating the way for him, whispering quietly in terror, cowering before their Ruler.

Morpheus stepped through the door and there he saw her. She was kneeling on the wooden floor, she was looking at her hands covered with blood, she was crying. To her left rested a headless female body, to her right a male body with its chest torn open and its heart ripped out, and in front of her on the bed, the body of a young girl was leaning against the wall. The girl who had taken her own life.

"Who are they?" he asked in a low voice.

"I should help them…" she whispered.

"Who are they?" he insisted.

"It was my job, my responsibility, and I failed them," she whimpered with her eyes fixed on her bloody hands, "their blood is on my hands. They asked for my help, and I…. instead of helping them I helped you…"

She raised her eyes and looked at him, standing a few steps behind her, watching her carefully, his heart broke when their eyes met. "So much despair…"

"I don't blame you…" she said with her eyes fixed on him, "It was my decision, I chose to help you not them, I am to blame here, their blood is on my hands."

"It is not within your power to save everyone…" his voice took on a warm tone. He had seen similar nightmares billions of times, but for some reason, he didn't quite understand, looking at this one seemed unbearable, "You must not blame yourself…"

"That's what everyone seems to be saying…" she whispered as the image of the nightmare faded and changed.

They found themselves in a cemetery. She was sitting on a bench with her head lowered in sadness, in front of her three monuments rose from the ground, Turners, Jeffersons, and her family.

"I killed them…" she wept, "my decisions…the fallout of my decisions…"

He did not agree with it, could not agree with it, "she should know that she cannot help everyone," he thought. A desire rose inside him to end this nightmare, a desire to take her away, a desire to wipe the blood from her hands and the tears from her face. But he knew he could not do that, the wounds had to heal, even if the process was painful.

"Why are you here?" she asked without looking at him, "Why did you come?"

He did not answer.

"There are seven billion people in the world, at least half of them are sleeping now…I'm sure you have something to do, so many dreams and nightmares to control. Why are you in mine?"

Morpheus remained silent.

"You don't have to bother with me Dream Lord. There are others. Leave me... leave me alone..."

"No."

Morpheus sat down on the bench next to her and held out his open hand. She hesitated only to weave her fingers between his a moment later. They said nothing, in silence mourning those who had passed away.

He stayed with her until the end of the dream...

Part twelve: Living Nightmare

~~***~~

Authors note: And here we are at the end of Chapter 11. I spoke with a friend today about this chapter knowing very well that it will not be light and happy. I thought to myself that I definitely need to write something more happy, just pure fluff. But...there will be a moment for happiness and joy, yet this is not this moment. And to be honest I really like writing these painful and horror-ish scenes that are only cut through by moments of comfort, and glimpses of hope. That's why I fell in love with a Sandman in the first place. This utterly dark story with such powerful hopeful and uplifting themes. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you will follow the story. I promise, there will be light, eventually ;) Thank you so much for your constant support, for all of your reblogs, and comments, each and every one of them means the world to me. See ya in Sunday in chapter 12 ;) As for now, Dear Reader, I thank you for reading :)

~~***~~

Tag list: @mycrazyfandom @unavoidabledirewolf @calicoevening72 @uzumaki-mj @thegreatestsandwich @parabatai-winchester @munsonmunster @consistentreader578 @jupiterclipse @fangirlmary @clown-princesa @galaxypox @dilfsandtherapy @kc-265 @midnxghtblue @sallysal9 @0shippingtrashaway0 @lu123sworld @octo-octopie @asmallhobbitruinedmylife @xxbeckybeexx-blog @jesllianaquilesrolon @dollfaceyourfear @shaewithyou @heavenmaycare @moon-enthusiast @home-of-disaster @xmxrfx @missnightingale1971 @lilfoxyqueensworld @fate-huntress @bionic-donut @kaifloof @mischiefmanaged71 @beakami @mm2305 @redbircl @floatingintheupsidedown @chaoticmessneutralplease @selena-mayfair

@goingwiththewind @sapphireonline @thecrazytealady @hedwigprewett12 @mikariell95

#morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

275 notes · View notes

depressedbagpipe · 2 years

Text

Silver (Prince Caspian x female!reader)

Chapter VI - The Return of the Witch

Words: 3289 Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, battles, and deaths. Mentions of Jadis' past abuse of Edmund. A/N: hello hello! sorry for the long wait, but chapter VI is finally here! Guess who makes a special appearance?? We finally are getting more little interactions between Caspian and reader, but i do have to be honest, i don't think I'm that good at writing romance lol but it's okay. Thank y'all for your love and support <3

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter

Chapter VI - The Return of the Witch

The light breeze woke me up. I opened my eyes to a clear blue sky, the sun shining high. I was carefully laying down on the green grass, right at the top of one of the cliffs around Cair Paravel. The open sea extended before my eyes, the water tranquil and shining as bright as the sky. Both blues seemed to blend on the horizon.

I raised my head, confused. The castle was in plain sight, only this time, it wasn’t destroyed. Its high towers twinkled with grace and power, its flags fluttering in open arms. I looked around, for I could find nobody. The scenery, nevertheless, felt alive, although it seemed I was the only one there.

I closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment, trying to imprint the view forever in my brain. But the moment was short-lived, as I soon felt a presence next to me. My eyes widened as I took the great lion sitting next to me.

“It’s been a long time, my child,” Aslan, with his deep wise voice, said.

I felt tears in my eyes, for I had truly missed our protector. “It’s been, indeed,” I replied, although a thousand thoughts were now plaguing my mind.

“You’re not dead, my dear,” Aslan spoke before I could formulate the question. “It isn’t your time yet,” he added.

Although I felt relieved at his words, they did very little to answer my questions.

“Where am I, then?” I asked, mainly to prove my suspicions.

“In your head,” was his only answer.

I nodded, letting the comfortable silence speak for us.

“We lost, didn’t we?” my voice broke slightly, the battle replaying in my mind.

“As it was foretold,” Aslan said. I looked at him, a bit altered.

“All those innocent lives… what will happen to them?” I was afraid of Aslan’s answer.

“They are now with me, safe,” the lion looked at me this time.

I then looked down at my body, the ghost of my injuries on my skin, even though there was nothing there. I was wearing my old red dress, the one I used for the Pevensies’ coronation, with my hair elegantly pinned down. There was no sign of my armor, my weapons, or the scars.

“Why did we have to leave?” I looked at Aslan. Although his eyes did not change, I did feel the tension returning to my body, if only slightly.

Aslan softly roared, not in warning, but almost in sorrow. “You learned your lesson,” Aslan began. “There’s only so much Narnia can teach you, and you already had everything you needed by then.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “Then why are we back here now?”

Aslan smiled. “Perhaps there’s a lot more in store for you,” his eyes twinkled, almost mischievously.

I felt a pull in my chest, not enough to hurt me, but strong enough to get me on my feet. I looked around bewildered, as my feet were almost dragging me to the edge of the cliff.

“It seems our time is up, for now,” Aslan also rose, walking patiently next to me as I fought that pull. “Fret not, daughter of Eve, we will meet again,” he nodded at me as he stopped. I turned around to face him, my feet on the edge, yet I did not feel any fear. I was only inside my head. “Good tidings are coming to you, my child. You will be happy,” his image was only a reflection now, slowly disappearing in the air. “Hold on to the cold this summer. I will see you soon.”

His voice became a whisper, and when he finally disappeared, my leg moved backward on its own account.

I was suddenly falling, but not to the waters. The world around me faded to black, the speed making me close my eyes in surrender.

When I opened them, I was on a bed, dizzy, with my ears ringing and pain heavily coating every spot in my body.

I groaned as I tried to get up, only for a soft hand to pull me back into the bed.

“Easy there, the muscle’s still healing,” Edmund spoke. He stood next to my bed, sitting down on an uncomfortable-looking chair. He had a bloody rag in his other hand, carefully cleaning the wound on my thigh.

“Wh-what happened?” my voice was husky, deep, almost rusty. For a moment it didn’t feel like my own.

Another hand placed a glass on my lips, lifting my head slightly. I opened my mouth as the water fell down my throat, calming it down and making me realize how desperate for it I had been.

“You were fully passed out when we got here. Caspian carried you inside and Lucy saved you with her vial. Recovery’s slow but steady, you will be fine in a few hours,” Susan calmly spoke, then tending to the wound on my torso.

I grimaced at the thought, almost feeling the blade piercing my skin again. My entire body hurt, although, as Susan said, I could feel how it was recovering faster than a normal wound. I was exhausted, nevertheless.

“Damn, they got me good,” I tried to joke, yet their faces shut me up completely. “What?” I feigned innocence.

“You died,” Lucy, perched at the end of the uncomfortable bed, spoke in a quiet voice. Her tone, regardless, was hard enough for the surrounding Narnians to look at us.

I almost choked. “What?” my voice was barely a whisper.

Susan sighed, taking out a clean bandage and carefully wrapping the cloth around me. “When Caspian reached the camp, he said your heart wasn’t beating. You lost so much blood you were practically covered in it. Thankfully, Lucy was waiting outside for us and quickly gave you the cordial. It took several drops for your heart to even beat again. Just a few seconds later and you would’ve not made it,” she explained, though she did not stop her duty. Her lips were trembling too, and she didn’t look at me.

Edmund was now holding my hand in his. “You’ve been here for some time. We noticed the wounds only started to close a short while ago, but you should still rest until you’re fully healed,” his usual smirk was now replaced by worry, exhaustion, fear.

I looked at the ceiling, taking in their words. For a few moments, my heart had stopped. I had been dead. Had it not been for Caspian and Lucy, I would’ve joined Aslan permanently at the top of the cliff.

I remembered his words. It isn’t your time yet.

I sighed with difficulty. “For the record,” I spoke, “all that blood wasn’t mine. I did take out the soldiers who did these,” I motioned my wounds with my head.

Edmund cracked a small smile, and while Susan rolled her eyes as she finished her task, I knew they were now certain I was still breathing with them. Lucy still had tears falling down her face, but she also smirked lightly.

“Where’s Caspian?” I asked no one in particular. Susan smiled knowingly.

“I sent him away to rest and clean himself up. He wanted to stay here with you but the sight was gruesome. He had his own injuries to tend to,” she finished bandaging me, softly rubbing the uninjured skin around the wound before getting up.

“How’s Peter?” I asked Edmund once Susan and Lucy left. Exhaustion was clear in their eyes, and I felt bad that the siblings had stayed by my side when they needed rest too.

Edmund’s eyes became darker. “Let’s just say he’s had better days,” he answered.

I knew better than to press him any further, yet I couldn’t wait to get up and talk to him.

“Where is he?” I asked Edmund, as I slowly got up. He knew better than to order me to lay back down, so he quickly threw my arm around his shoulders and helped me walk away from the make-shift infirmary. Windmane, Glenstorm’s wife, shot us a look at my state, ready to yell at me to lie down again, but I couldn’t. I had to get out of there.

We found Peter on the same lookout post I had stood at the previous night with Caspian.

“I said I wanted to be alone,” his voice was hard, his posture tense. His back was to us and he did not move from his position. The air had grown cold, matching his sour mood.

“You’ll get sick if you stay there,” I spoke with difficulty.

Peter turned around quickly, his expression wide. He rushed to me and took me in his arms, enveloping me tightly. Although one of his hands was gripping the injury on my torso rather hard, I did not have the heart to tell him to stop until a sharp pain shot down my stomach.

“Ouch,” I said almost inaudibly, but enough for Peter to pull away.

His hands were cupping my face, looking straight into my eyes. Unshed tears filled his own, redness surrounding his blue irises. Dry teardrops also ran through his cheeks. His lost face broke me as much as my state broke him.

“I thought I lost you,” Peter almost cried again, checking my injuries several times. I gripped his hand tightly if only to assure him I was alright.

“I’m right here,” I told him. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” I joked. Peter softly laughed, despite the weight on his shoulders bigger than ever.

Edmund kept his hand on my back, supporting me, as he awkwardly stood in the scene. He wasn’t looking at us, giving us as much privacy as he could.

“What happened to you? One minute you were alright, and next thing I know you’re unconscious and bleeding to death,” Peter’s eyes were as dark as Edmund’s.

“I guess I got distracted,” I said, thinking back to how desperately I had been staring at Caspian before I was struck down.

“You never get distracted,” Peter frowned but didn’t say anything else.

I shot him a smile to try to calm him down. “There’s always a first time,” I said, shrugging my arms.

Peter looked at me, not fully convinced, but did not press the subject further. I saw how Peter and Edmund shared a look, and before I could speak, a fully healed Trumpkin appeared on the post. His eyes slightly twinkled when he saw me, but he quickly yelled at us to go down to the Stone Table.

The sight sent shivers down my spine.

An ice wall now stood between the main two pillars of the room, Jadis standing in the middle inside the wall. She barely moved, almost as if trapped by the ice, begging to be freed, but her voice was as sharp as I remembered. Caspian was in front of the witch, his bleeding hand extended to her as if he was hypnotized by her spell.

Peter drew his sword immediately, running to the first creature who growled at us. It jumped over the table and dodged Peter’s blade. I supported my body on the wall, for I was in no condition of fighting, my trembling hand grabbing one of my knives for defense. Edmund and Trumpkin aided Peter after I weakly told them to go. I realized one of the creatures was Nikabrik, who was now fighting Trumpkin. My eyes filled with anger at the sight, yet my body was not strong enough to fight. Lucy ran past me, helping Trumpkin before Nikabrik could wound him, while the werewolf managed to take out Peter. Edmund sent the hag flying backward, yet the fight was far from over. I tried running towards Lucy, who was now flat against the Stone Table with Nikabrik’s sword coming closer to her.

“Caspian! Snap out of it!” I yelled at the prince when I noticed the ice wall was starting to break, Jadis’ hand slowly but surely coming out of the ice as Caspian’s hand still reached for hers. He did not turn around, whatsoever.

I could feel the wound on my side start to bleed again, sharp pains going up my chest. I dropped my knife as I clutched my side, my eyes shutting as I groaned. I caught sight of Peter jumping up the table and slashing the werewolf’s face, as well as Trumpkin’s sword impaling Nikabrik before he could hurt Lucy again.

“Come on. Come,” Jadis spoke, staring at Caspian.

Thankfully, Peter pushed him aside and stopped whatever hold she had on him.

“Get away from him!” he yelled, his sword up in the air.

Jadis retreated slightly, yet her face adopted a sweet smile as she took him in. “Peter, dear,” she extended her hand to him, “I’ve missed you. Come, just one drop,” her voice was enchanting, and even I felt her pull. “You know you can’t do this alone,” she smiled softly, luring him even more.

I was frozen on the spot, silently watching Peter lower his sword as if moved by the Witch’s words. Just before I could yell at him to stop, the ice wall broke, and the tip of a sword appeared out of Jadis’ stomach. The ice started to crack, as she breathed with difficulty. With a scream, the wall exploded into tiny pieces, and the Witch was gone with it. In the center stood Edmund, his face protected by his hands who were holding his sword. Peter and Caspian, now up, were wordlessly looking at him.

“I know,” said Edmund. “You had it sorted,” he moved around, resuming his place next to me as he helped me up back on my feet.

Both boys turned around, seeing the rest of us staring at them in disbelief. Even Susan, who had joined us to see Jadis’ defeat, was shaking her head at Peter, disappointed. I had my eyes fixed on Caspian, a thousand thoughts in my head as his dark gaze pierced my own. Embarrassment filled his eyes, but I was too tired to point it out.

Edmund walked me out of the room, my hand rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder, knowing how hard the situation had been for him. He had taken out the same person that had abused him in his first visit to Narnia, and that had almost gotten him killed in his first battle. We had always joked about what he would do to her should she ever come back, but we both knew that would’ve been impossible. Until today.

Edmund took me back to my bed at the infirmary, and before he left I grabbed his arm.

“Hey. I’m proud of you,” I looked into his eyes as I spoke. He had never been one to communicate openly, therefore I tried to pour every single feeling into those words. He smiled appreciatively at me, nodding his head, but I knew him too much to know he now needed some time by himself. “You can leave. You don’t have to be strong all the time,” I added and squeezed his hand. He did the same in return before winking at me, turning around, and leaving the infirmary.

I sighed, feeling the sleep taking over my tired body. I laid down completely and closed my eyes, allowing myself to rest for some time.

Caspian was sitting down on the edge of one of the posts, talking softly with his professor. My footsteps didn’t go unnoticed by them, for they both looked at me.

“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt, I can come later,” I was about to turn around when the professor’s voice spoke.

“It’s okay, my lady, I was already leaving,” he stood up and patted me on the shoulder. “Thank you for rescuing me, too, my lady. I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you before,” he softly said before walking back into the fortress.

Caspian was now fully looking at me, still sitting at the same spot.

“Hey,” I approached him, sitting next to him. I was fully healed, thankfully, but I still winced when I sat down, not because of the pain, but as a reflection of the past hour.

“Are you alright?” Caspian’s hand was standing inches away from mine, and his worried eyes made me chuckle quietly.

“I am. Thanks to you,” I added with a nod of my head. “Susan said she sent you away when I was in the infirmary,” my sight was fixed on the horizon.

Caspian nodded next to me, mirroring my actions. “She forced me to leave. Said they had to patch you up and I was in the way,” he explained. “That wasn’t very gentle of her,” he chuckled, referring to her title.

I laughed out loud at his words, fully embracing the warm feeling in my stomach, only this time, it wasn’t because of the injury.

“She’ll grow on it, trust me,” I replied with a smile on my face.

“I don’t know what came over me with the White Witch,” Caspian suddenly spoke after a few minutes of pure silence.

I frowned at him. “What exactly happened?”

He sighed, his head lowering in defeat. “I was so mad at Peter, I felt like I had lost all faith in him. Then Nikabrik approached me and said there was a way for me to get Miraz’s throne,” he recalled. His hands were in tight fists by his knees, his knuckles white in rage. “The hag and the werewolf just talked and talked and I felt angrier by the second and…” I instinctively grabbed his hand, smoothing my finger pads over his knuckles. Caspian drew a sharp breath, yet his hands were no longer tense. “There was something about them that just made me snap. The next thing I know, she is standing before me, asking for my blood to free her. I knew it was wrong but the more she talked the more I wanted revenge. If Peter hadn’t stopped me I…” his breath got caught in his throat, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I don’t know what would’ve happened,” he turned to me, his eyes fixed on mine.

I saw the regret, the fear, the embarrassment in them. I saw them in Edmund many years ago.

“Caspian, it wasn’t your fault,” I tried to calm him down. “Her power is too strong to simply shy away from. Even Peter was trapped,” I tried to assure him, but he shook his head.

“It’s not that. It felt like she was in my head. She saw through me. She replayed everything before my eyes. She showed me my worst fears. I saw my dad’s corpse, I saw my professor in his cell, I saw my kingdom turn on me…” he hesitated. “I saw you dead in my arms.”

It was my turn to get my breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know what else to say. Caspian was now firmly holding my hand.

“She knew everything. And despite knowing it was wrong I still felt that tiny voice in my head saying to do it. To free her. And I wouldn’t ever have to worry about anything again. And I believed her,” Caspian said, gritting his teeth.

I was at a loss of words. I knew Jadis could have that hold on her victims, but Caspian’s words were more meaningful than anything I could’ve possibly imagined.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Caspian,” I forced him to look at me, grabbing his face with my free hand and wiping his tears with my thumb. He rapidly closed his eyes at my contact, as I tried to ignore the almost electric feeling I felt in my tips every time I touched him. “Not anymore.”

Next chapter

#prince caspian x reader #prince caspian #ben barnes x reader #narnia fanfiction #narnia #prince caspian movie #prince caspian fanfiction #ben barnes #bin bons #chronicles of narnia #prince caspian x you #prince caspian x y/n #narnia imagines

255 notes · View notes

fand0mh03 · 1 year

Text

Runaway; part two

hi! I’ve decided I’m going to make this a series. I’m not sure how long yet, but there will be more parts coming soon. Thank you for reading!

“You seriously described the Boston Tea Party as a tea party held in boston? On a test?” Wanda laughed as she questioned Y/N, who had just told her a story from when she was a teenager.

“Can you blame me? I was out for a week, I had no idea!” She exclaimed, laughing along at the memory. This was the happiest the 24 year old witch had felt in a long time, especially considering today. It was like a breath of fresh air for her. The two women had been chatting away and enjoying the time together for the past 2 hours- making it about 10 o’clock in the night. Wanda was grateful to not have to spend this night alone; well atleast all of it. She was afraid she’d break if she was left alone for too long. Y/N made her feel better, like a plant where after all of the sun, the rain finally came.

“Hey, Y/N, I have to close up for the night, I’m sorry,” a man came out- to which Wanda assumed was the chef and owner of the diner. She looked over to Y/N, who nodded and said good night to the chef.

“Well, Wanda, looks like it’s time to go. C’mon,” She spoke to Wanda, who tried to hide her sadness, so she offered a small smile as Y/N stood up. Wanda stood up with her, and tried to stop herself from blushing when Y/N grabbed her wrist and led her out of the door.

“Do you have anywhere to stay?” Y/N’s sweet voice alarmed Wanda, making her look over at her.

“I can manage,” She smiled at her, but Y/N’s face stayed worried.

“I have extra room in my apartment, you could stay there for as long as you need.” Y/N offered, and Wanda’s heart fluttered. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to say yes, but she also had nowhere to go, and wouldn’t be able to access her bank account due to her identity being “dead”, not that she had much money anyway though. And safety aside, Wanda really liked Y/N, she couldn’t just say no.

“Yeah, okay, thank you so much. Can I offer you money or anything, I’m not sure how long I’d be staying for,”

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to pay me, it's fine. Here, let’s go to my car, it’s cold and late.”

Wanda followed Y/N to her car, which was a silver toyota camry, and slid into the passenger seat as she unlocked the door. Y/N buckled her seat belt and started the car, pulling out of the diner’s parking lot and into the streets. They sat in silence for a while until Y/N turned on the radio and started singing along to Taylor Swift.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘till january,” She softly sang, making Wanda slowly start to smile.

“Cause this is our place, we make the rules”

“And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear. Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?”

“Can I go where you go?” Wanda joined in with Y/N, causing Y/N to glance over at Wanda with a grin on her face.

Singing lyrics, and laughing at each other, dancing at red lights and stop signs, loving every second of their time together, Wanda couldn’t help but wonder, how long would this last? Would Y/N end up leaving too? This made her smile falter, but she put up the facade of enjoying herself to her wits end. She felt bad for thinking like this, but everyone she’s ever loved was gone, and she was scared of forming new relationships. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have talked to Y/N for so long, maybe she shouldn’t have gotten in the car.

“My hearts been borrowed and yours has been blue, all’s well that ends well to end up with you”

Nervous, Wanda decided to read Y/N’s thoughts, to make sure she wouldn’t get betrayed (for now at least). And Wanda almost started crying because all Y/N was thinking about was how she was excited about getting a new roommate for a little bit and a potential best friend.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever,” Wanda and Y/N continued to sing together while she parked the car and danced along to the lyrics. Wanda let a tear slip down her face and Y/N stopped singing and gave her a worried, empathetic look, but Wanda gave her a little smile which Y/N returned.

Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Once they got inside Y/N’s apartment, Y/N took her and Wanda’s coats and hung them up on the hooks by the front door. Y/N scurried off into the kitchen as Wanda followed, taking a seat on the couch.

“Can I offer you a glass of coffee? Water? Tea? Anything?” Y/N stuck her head out of the kitchen to talk to Wanda, who softly laughed at Y/N’s hospitality, and took her up on the offer of coffee, because God knew Wanda needed coffee.

“So, what brought you to the diner?” Y/N asked Wanda, wondering why the hero had decided to stop by a quiet coffee shop late at night.

“Uh…” Wanda didn’t want to ruin this, she knew Y/N would already think she’s a monster.

“It’s alright. I’m not interrogating you, I just want to know a little more about you,” She smiled at the red head, and went to get the coffee.

Wanda took it graciously, and decided to tell Y/N what had happened. At least the rundown of what happened. Worst comes to worse, she leaves, right?

********** think of MOM and her kids running from her *********

Expecting Y/N to freak out, Wanda was shocked and pleasantly surprised when Y/N gave her a hug. This caused Wanda to break down. This is what she was afraid would happen.

Loud, painful sobs racked her body as Y/N wrapped her arms around her waist, allowing Wanda to collapse into her arms and rest her head on her shoulder. Hot tears ran down her face, her eyes shutting closed, and the tears rolling onto Y/N’s bare shoulder. She shook from the mental breakdown, and Y/N brushed the hair from Wanda’s face, holding her and comforting her. Something Wanda hasn’t felt in a long time- comfort.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” Y/N whispered to Wanda, in an attempt to soothe her, which worked, the tears slowing down. Y/N pulled away, leaving a kiss on her forehead, and rubbed the other woman’s arms, only when she felt the tears stop and the shaking came to a halt. Y/N continued to hold her, for as long as she needed, letting Wanda rest on her lap. Wanda’s eyes ached from crying so long, so she shut them, and soon, she drifted off into a deep sleep.

#wanda x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximilf #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff #Elizabeth Olsen #elizabeth olsen x female reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #Runaway series #Marvel

30 notes · View notes

littlewinter1917 · 2 years

Text

The Familiar

Part One - The Familiar and the Unfamiliar

Series Masterlist

Words: 10.6k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Witch!Reader

Summary: You live in a little cottage in the depths of the woods, where you can practice your witchy ways to your heart’s delight. Things are peaceful and quiet, until your familiar decides to bring home a stray man she’s found in the forest. He’s hurt, scared, and in dire need of help. So, at her insistence, you take him in begrudgingly. But things get complicated when the ghosts of the past come back to haunt you both, and tensions and feelings keep rising as an unexpected bond between you and Eddie grows ever closer and tighter.

Or: Your cat and familiar tries her paws at playing matchmaker and actually succeeds by picking out the most pathetic guy (affectionate), she could find in the woods.

Warnings: A lot of hurt/comfort and fluff! Minor mentions of injuries and being sick, but nothing explicit. Talks about nightmares, past deaths, trauma and multiple witch hunts. Swearing, witchcraft and a talking pet/monster. Some tensions, mutual pinning, secret longing and major slow burn. There’s a small fight and a little bit of angst (with a happy ending though!) Mentions of guilt & grief - but above all healing! It’s implied that the reader isn’t quite human, and that they lost all of their family in a tragic way. This Story does contain spoilers for Season 4.

A/N: I Got the idea for this story after listening to Familiar by Agnes Obel, and Widowspeak’s cover of Wicked Game.

The story is also written with a gender neutral reader in mind, so that anyone who wants to can hopefully enjoy this little story! 🎃

Read the story on AO3 here.

My blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI 🔞 Don't reposed my work anywhere.

Eddie cannot believe his eyes.

He must be hallucinating, he thinks.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or the fact that the consistent cold creeping into his bones is making him feel slightly out of it.

Either way, he has to do a double take when he sees a small, black cat peeking through a line of trees, before strutting right towards him.

The discovery wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary in the small town of Hawkins, but he’s currently somewhere in the deep, dark parts of the local woods instead.

And he hasn’t witnessed a single sign of life for a while now - apart from a few fleeting birds and the occasional rustle of branches, indicating some startled rodent that’s scared off by his arrival.

And Eddie can’t blame them; not when he looks like he’s been through hell and back.

Feels like it too, if he’s honest, and in some way he kind of has.

He couldn’t have predicted that Jason and his gang would catch up to his hide-out that quickly.

Couldn’t have predicted that he would be running and stumbling through the woods for a couple of hours at the very least; if the golden rays of the afternoon sun are anything to go by.

He’s most definitely lost and slightly hurt, but that’s still significantly better than being dead or locked into prison for a crime he didn’t even commit.

But alas, he has to make do with what he’s got, which is admittedly, very little.

It’s been raining non-stop for the better half of the day, and he’s soaked through to the bone. His left foot has also been a pain in the ass ever since he slipped and twisted his ankle earlier; and the last proper meal he had – if two handful of cereal even count as such – was in the waking hours of this morning, because he couldn’t sleep, again.

Go figure.

That was hours before he noticed a foreign car approaching.

Jason’s car, to be exact.

And from there on out he’s been on the run ever since, only starting to slow down a little while ago, because his foot is really not having it, and he’s been feeling so dizzy lately, that parts of the forest start swaying right in front of his eyes every now and then, but always with an increasing intensity.

So, when a regular black housecat starts to suddenly appear in front of him, it’s only natural for Eddie to think that he might be seriously losing it for good now.

Why his mind would conjure up a black cat out of all things, though, is not something he has an answer to either.

It’s only when the cat starts walking little loops around his feet, occasionally bumping it’s head softly against his leg, that Eddie gets pulled out of his racing thoughts. Because this cat, to his surprise, seems very much real.

At least, he thinks it is if his sensory experiences are still somewhat reliable.

He finds himself crouching down slightly, holding out his hand carefully in an attempt not to scare the small animal off. Surprisingly, the cat lets itself be pet, purring lightly and bumping its head against his hand in a playful manner, whenever he pauses his movement for a moment.

“Where did you come from, buddy?” Eddie whispers, still trying to figure out why a black housecat cat would show up in the middle of a forest.

“Please don’t tell me you’re part of the local police force,” he mumbles after a small pause, and for a split second he thinks that the cat almost looks a little offended at his joke, before it’s bumbling his hand again, the small body almost vibrating with a deep purr.

“Are you lost too, little friend?” He inquires, his touch still gentle, and an understanding smile on his lips.

You and me both, buddy, he thinks.

With the cat almost in his lap, he’s able to get a better look at it too. The cat seems to be female, if Eddie isn’t completely mistaken, and she’s blessed with piercing green eyes.

She’s been nibbling softly on one of his fingers, as he continues to pet her, when suddenly, out of nowhere, she decides to jumps up, seemingly running off, before stopping a few feet away from him.

“Where are you going, kitty?” Eddie inquires, surprise etched on his features, and, as much as he hates to admit it, his heart sinks a little at the idea of being all alone again, too.

But instead of vanishing into the sheer endless line of trees, the cat stays where she’s standing, looking back at Eddie expectantly and letting out an impatient meow.

It's almost as if the cat is waiting for him to follow her lead, Eddie thinks, before shaking his head. He really is losing it now.

Still, he finds himself walking up to the animal slowly. But as soon as he’s almost by her side, the cat is rushing a few steps forward again, before looking back at him once more, waiting for him to catch up, before the same thing repeats itself.

Again.

And again.

And again, again.

Eddie himself cannot quite explain why he feels the urge to follow the cat, despite having no idea where she’s going, or what exactly is going on.

This could be the start of a horror movie, for all he knows.

Except he’s already kind of trapped in a real-life horror movie anyway, so how much worse can it get, really?

Eddie doesn’t want to jinx it, but he’s pretty sure that his day cannot get any worse, because there’s hardly any room for growth on the ‘this day was really shit’ scale.

He’s not sure how long he’s been following the cat, but he’s exhausted either way.

It doesn’t help that his surroundings looks all the same to him. Just an endless sea of trees.

He could have been walking in circles and he didn’t know.

Still wouldn’t.

But he’s also convinced that he’s officially lost it, because he swears that the cat has been slowing down a little, trying to match her pace to his, and sometimes he even thinks she’s giving him an encouraging meow.

He’s not sure how much longer he can wander around like that, though.

When he tells the cat about his need for a break, the only answer he gets is another soft meow, before she’s tugging on one of his shoelaces lightly, trying to get him to move forward, and that’s that.

The cat has decided that the journey continues, Eddie thinks with a subtle shake of his head.

Maybe this is all some kind of fever dream, and Eddie should probably brace himself for the unsuspected twist where it turns into a nightmare again, because all his dreams lately are; if he manages to fall asleep, that is.

He thinks that maybe he should let the cat know that he knows now that none of this is real; it can’t be, not with the way the black feline shook her head earlier, when he asked it if this was a secret ploy to get him to turn into some cat food.

It’s like she actually understands him, but that’s impossible.

Next thing he knows, she’ll start talking too. Eddie can’t help but laugh a little at that idea.

Talking cats.

Somehow, on a scale of disbelieving things concerning everything in the cursed town of Hawkins, that isn’t even the craziest thing he can think of.

He’s about to tell the cat about it, when suddenly he sees it.

It’s a big shape between a line of trees in the distance, and it takes him a second to realize what exactly he’s looking at, but once he does, he shakes his head with much more vigor.

“No!” He states, determined while taking a few stumbling steps back.

The cat just looks at him with questioning eyes, before tugging on his jeans softly, trying to get him to move towards the object again.

“Oh, absolutely not!”

Because the unusual shape in the woods is nothing but a small little cottage.

And an abandoned shed would have been just fine with Eddie, but there’s warm light seeping through some of the windows, which means that somebody lives there.

Either that, or it’s haunted by ghosts with an insatiable hunger for coziness even in death.

He’s not sure what’s worse.

The cat tugs on his jeans again, and this time Eddie decides to crouch down, hoping that an eye-to-eye conversation with her will erase any lingering misunderstandings.

“Listen, I cannot go there, okay? I appreciate you trying to help me, but you obviously don’t know who I am! The whole town is looking for me, and whoever lives inside this cottage might know about it too. They’ll just call the cops and then that’s it!”

The cat contemplates him for a second, head slightly tilted, before going back to tugging on his jeans once more.

And then, without another word, she’s quickly turning around, sprinting off into the direction of the cottage, and Eddie sighs.

He can’t believe he’s even considering it, but he decides to get just a little bit closer to the house, so he can see who lives there, maybe.

He’s surrounded by so many trees, that there are more than plenty of options to hide behind, and the slowly growing darkness of the impending night is also nothing but an added benefit for him.

He watches as the cat struts through the tiny garden, before jumping up the steps to the poach of the cottage.

It’s a nice little house, he has to admit, as he peaks past the tree he’s leaning on, trying to get a better look without being seen.

He’s not sure who exactly he expects to live in such a place, but when the door opens up and he sees the figure of a person stepping out, he truly thinks he’s lost his mind.

You feel your familiar’s presence before she’s even on the steps of the poach.

Weirdly enough, she’s been lingering around the house for a while now, you notice, but you don’t pay it too much mind, as you’re still occupied with the finishing touches for both your and your cat’s dinner.

It’s a nice, fresh stew that’s been brewing for the better half of the day, and your familiar is right on time for it too.

She usually is, though.

Noticing her presence approaching, you make your way towards the door with quick strides.

You know she can get into the house just fine by herself, but you like to surprise her every now and then, too. Although she can also feel your presence lingering around, just like you can pick up on hers, so the sudden opening of the door shouldn’t really come as an unsuspected revelation.

“There you are, Reaper. You’re just on time for dinner, as always.” You greet your familiar, after opening the door with a playful curtsey.

“Do come in, my beloved friend.”

Opening the door wider, you even add a small bow, the way you imagine a fancy butler would, but to your surprise your familiar just stays seated on her spot on the wooden boards of the poach.

“Reaps, what’s the matter this time?” You ask when she glances back into the forest, as if she’s looking for someone, or waiting, maybe.

And then you see it, and your heart drops down deep to the wooden floors.

Eddie cannot believe his eyes – something that unfortunately seems like a rather regular occurrence these days.

He tried imagining a few people, who might open the door of that little cottage and reveal themselves as the owner, but never in his wildest dreams did he think it would be someone looking like an angel.

You cannot be significantly older than he is, he guesses, but you still look ethereal, dressed in simple, white gown with sparkly gold detailing that catches the surrounding light in a captivating matter.

The warm glow behind you, that continues to spill out into the growing night of the forest, illuminates not just the poach, but your frame as well.

You look like the drawing of a saint, or some other holly figure, and Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat.

Yeah, he’s definitely dreaming.

You feel the presence a split second before you see it; it’s a shadow peeking through behind one of the nearby trees, and you look at your familiar with confusion and a tinge of disapproval.

“Reaper, what’s this about?” You whisper, as you try to make out what the hell is hiding behind the tree.

But your companion is barely giving you an answer before she’s jumping down the steps of the poach again, making her way down to the figure.

You can’t even call out any warning words, as she’s already vanishing behind the tree, and you hear a hushed voice whisper exasperated, “Hey, no! You’re going to give my hiding-spot away, kitty.”

“Already happened.” You state, crossing your arms in front of your chest defensively as you step forward on the poach, making your way towards the figure.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my parts of the forest?”

The tone of your voice is icy and accusatory, and Eddie feels himself shiver at the sound.

He comes out behind the tree with his hands held up in a docile gesture.

“Uh, hi.”

Eddie hopes that he doesn’t look quite as pathetic as he feels, but who is he kidding.

He’s soaked like a poodle in a puddle, looks like one too, he supposes, and he can’t stop himself from shivering and trembling lightly.

To top it all off, he’s growing increasingly unsteady on his feet.

He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know where he should go, doesn’t know anything, really. And he’s pretty sure that makes him the very personification of pathetic right now.

“You’re human?” You whisper, almost a bit shocked when you take in his quivering frame.

“Seriously, what is this?” You ask the cat, but all Eddie hears is a small meow as an answer.

“Oh, absolutely not!” You answer her little quip, eyes hardening instantly.

He watches with furrowed brows as the conversation seemingly goes back and forth between you two. The cat meows and you bite something back just as quickly.

Great, Eddie thinks. You’re a whole other level of crazy, having full fletched discussions with your cat in front of a total stranger.

What the hell is even happening anymore?

“Reaper, I told you no!” You whisper yell, and Eddie’s eyes suddenly light up a bit at the revelation.

“Your cat’s name is Reaper?” He can’t help the hushed question from slipping out. “That’s pretty metal!”

Now it’s your turn to furrow your brows at the shivering figure standing only a few feet away from you.

What the hell is this guy even taking about?

But then, before you can even confront him about it, you notice in horror that the man suddenly starts swaying slightly.

He’s going to faint, you think, small alarm bells going off in your head. And if he isn’t careful, which most people fainting usually aren’t, he’s going to fall right into your little patch of mandrake.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” You whisper, as you try to get to the guy and catch him before he can create any collateral damage to himself or your plants.

“Hey, easy there.” You mumble while your hands come up in a steadying grip around the man’s waist.

Good gods, he’s freezing, you think, as your fingers come in contact with his wet clothes. But the stranger only gives you his best attempt at a small, dopey smile.

“Hi,” he whispers again, before his eyes widen in realization and panic.

“Please don’t tell ‘em, that I-“

But before he can even finish the sentence, his eyes flutter shut in exhaustion, while he almost folds in on himself, slumping down, and you curse the gods and your familiar.

“Reaper!” You call out, a little distressed, as you try your best to keep the stranger upright.

“You got us into this dilemma, so you might as well help me carry him inside.”

“So, he’s staying?” Her deep voice inquires, and you don’t need to see her face to know there’s a smug smile playing on her inhumane features.

“Well, you know I’m not that kind of a monster.” You mumble, annoyance still etched in your voice.

“He can stay until he wakes up again, but not a minute longer.”

You’re lying and you both know it.

This guy needs a lot more than just a quick rest on a couch by the mere looks of it, and even you don’t have the heart to leave a hurt stranger out in the cold woods like that.

Not when he looks like a lost poodle washed up to the shore of your little cottage.

“You and your god damn strays.” You mutter, but Reaper barely acknowledges it.

“He’s human.” She simply states. “I haven’t had a human in a long while.”

“Yes,” you whisper quietly, “and there’s a fucking reason for that.”

Getting the stranger situated on the cozy, green couch in your little living room is a lot easier with the helping claws of your familiar.

“He’s hurt,” Reaper whispers, with a small nod towards his feet, and you let out a huff while arranging the pillows behind the stranger’s back.

“I know.”

“You could heal him.” She quietly observes, and this time, you look up from her task, shooting daggers at your companion.

“Well, I won’t.” You state, voice dripping with venom and hurt. “I’d rather die a thousand deaths than help a mortal human like that again, and you know damn well why.”

Reaper shakes her heads, defeated, a crushed little sigh leaving one of her many mouths.

“Your call, at the end of the day. I am merely observing.”

You decide to simply ignore her last words, as you take in the form of the strange man on your couch.

“He’s dripping all over my velvet canapé.” You remark with a frown.

“He sure is, but I suppose pneumonia looks on humans as daunting as mud stains on your 19th hundred furniture. So, maybe we should get him out of these wet clothes.”

You hate to admit that Reaper has a point as you consider her words.

“Or you could just do a quick drying spell?” She proposes, a sly smile etched upon her features.

“I already told you; I’m not using magic on a human.”

“But it wouldn’t be to heal him.”

“It doesn’t matter. No magic, end of the discussion.”

“He’s not even conscious, you could-“

“Reaper! Enough!” You bite through clenched teeth.

“This is not a topic that’s up for debate. I’ll help him, but not like that. Never like that. Not after what happened last time.” You whisper, and Reaper’s gaze turns slightly apologetic.

“Besides, you still haven’t told me what the fuck you were thinking, leading a human to our cabin.”

“He was hurt and obviously in need of help.”

“And you’ve decided to become a Samaritan when?”

Reaper huffs in fake disbelief. “What? So now it’s my fault for caring and trying to safe a poor human soul?”

“I don’t know what kind of a game you think you’re playing, Reaps, but I know you’re up to something.”

“Me? I’m innocent incarnate. Always was, always have been. Besides, you didn’t see him stumbling through the forest. He looked like he was running from the devil and hell itself.”

“Oh, come on! You know she’s not that bad on a good day.”

Reaper shrugs her shoulders. “I’m just saying he was running from something, and he seemed genuinely scared.”

“People in these parts of the wood usually are.”

“I didn’t pick him up in these parts of the woods.”

“Reaper!” You chide with a gasp, because she knows she’s not supposed to stray around anywhere near the edge of Hawkins.

“Relax, no one saw me. And even if they did, they’re hardly going to be suspicious of a small, black cat.”

Reaper blinks for a moment, before tilting her heads in slight amusement.

“Wait, that didn’t come out quite right, let me rephrase it. They’re not going to be suspicious of me for the right reasons. So, don’t worry, I was just a little curious, is all.”

“Curious or not, you know we cannot risk that kind of exposure. Not without a lot of safety measurements put in place first. And besides, do you even know who you’ve let take shelter in our fucking home?”

Your gaze wanders back to the dark-haired man still lying motionless on your couch.

“Ah, it’s fine, if he ends up being annoying I can always just eat him.” Reaper jokes, before turning a bit more stoic again.

“Seriously, don’t worry, whatever he’s been running from, he’s not another convicted mass-murderer, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“And how would you know that exactly?” You question, eyebrows raised, and a stern look on your face.

Your familiar starts to grow a little bit shy underneath your persistent gaze, as she drags her clawed feet over the thick, fluffy carpet sheepishly.

“I might have nibbled on his soul a little, a-and he’s a pure one.”

“Reaper!” You exclaim, throwing one of the spare pillows at the monster, who’s quick to defend herself.

“I didn’t take anything, I swear! Just wanted to make sure he’s not-“

“Another serial killer. Yeah, yeah, your taste in man is worse than mine.”

“Uh, that all a thing of perspective, as my philosophy professor used to say.”

“Uh-huh, well from where I’m standing, my perspective is pretty clear, and I say you have a shit taste in men.”

“Considering that I tend to eat them afterwards, I disagree.”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you huff with a roll of your eyes, but there’s a small smile playing on the edge of your lips, and Reaper beams brightly, in a way only she can light up with her many faces and facets.

“Come on, I’ll help you get him out of these clothes, and even do the laundry, if you’re so adamant about not using magic.” She offers with the gentle pat of one of her clawed hands on your shoulder, and who are you to disagree; You hate doing laundry the human way.

Getting the stranger out of his wet clothes should not be that much of a hassle; still, you find yourself feeling a bit uneasy about it.

You’re doing this for the sake of your antique furniture and his health, you remind yourself, but it hardly makes you feel any better.

You decidedly put his dark leather jacket on the edge of the couch, so you can pat it dry in a minute, and hang it up near the fireplace, while Reaper decides to study the back of the man’s dirty jean vest.

“Dio.” She quietly spells out, claws tracing the three letters. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It’s a band, I think,” you mumble, while your gaze rests once again on the unconscious man.

He’s still wearing a shirt with the words ‘Hellfire’ etched upon it, something that even you don’t know the meaning of.

“A devil’s fan club, maybe?” Reaper offers, before stating, “Though, I think she would be somewhat offended, if she saw herself drawn as that.”

Your friend points at the monstrous face painted in red right in the middle of the fabric, and you’re quick to brush her sharp fingers away.

“Careful, I think that’s hand drawn.” You mutter, and Reaper’s eyes widen.

“Really? Huh, wouldn’t have guessed that. Certainly creative, I’ll give him that.”

“Yeah, well, less talking, more helping would be nice.”

“On it, boss.” She chirps, multiple hands coming up to her heads in salutation.

“You think we should get him out of his shirt too?” You inquire, and Reaper gives you a strange look.

“Uh, unless you really want to risk a lung infection, yeah, I’d say so. You know that you could just solve this issue if you-“

“Not happening. Don’t start this discussion, again.”

“I’m just saying that if you’re so concerned about his modesty, there is a way around it.”

“I’m not going to use magic. We’re going to wash and dry his clothes like normal people, and I’ll treat his injured foot with human remedies. No. Magic.”

“Jeez Louise, alright. How about you take care of his shoes, while I take care of his shirt then, if you’re so freaked out about seeing human skin.”

“It’s not that,” you mumble, “Imaging waking up in a stranger’s cottage stripped to your underwear – you’d be mortified too.”

“Not when I eat all the witnesses afterwards.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s an option for him.”

“Right, poor pure soul and all.”

Reaper and you end up managing to get him out of the rest of his clothes just fine. He’s still wearing his boxers, of course, and you’ve engulfed him in a pile of various blankets, in the hopes of keeping him warm and comfortable.

And while Reaper went outside to take care of the laundry, you slipped back into the open kitchen, reheating the stew you kind of forgot about earlier. It’s still dinner time, after all.

You’re almost done setting the table for three, and Reaper has just made herself comfortable near the open fireplace again, when you hear a stirring motion coming from the couch.

A stirring motion that is followed quickly by a slight gasp, and you’re by the side of the couch in seconds.

The man in front of you looks at you wide-eyed and with a heaving chest.

“Where am I?” He whispers, voice rougher than you remember, and this time it’s your turn to hold up your hands in a docile gesture.

“You’re in my cottage.” You explain, though you doubt that that information is particularly of the helpful kind.

“You fainted earlier in my garden.” You add, hoping to refresh that stranger’s memory.

“I’m not dead?” He questions, eyes still wide as saucers as he gazes up at you.

“Dead?” You inquire, confusion etched on your face. “And what would this then be, hell or heaven?”

There’s a faint blush traveling up the man’s cheeks, as he averts his eyes from you.

Is it his fault that you look like an angel to him? But he refrains from saying that. Instead, the contours of his face take on a mortified expression.

“Where are my clothes?” He asks, voice slightly shaky, and you try your best to calm his nerves again.

“They were completely soaked through when you arrived here, so we took the liberty to take them off and wash them. They’re now drying over there by the fireplace, see?”

To emphasize your words, you point towards the crackling fireside, and the various items of clothing arranged around it.

“We?” The stranger inquires, eyes darting through the room, but he doesn’t really see anyone other than you. Glancing over to Reaper, you explain:

“Me, and my… cat, I mean.”

“Right.” The stranger states, as he tightens his grip around the blanket still wrapped around his chest, before parts of his features seem to relax slightly, and his nose twitches, kind of like that of a rabbit.

“What’s this smell?” His voice is hushed, and while he continues to be apprehensive about meeting your eyes, you can still guess what he’s thinking.

“I made a pumpkin beef stew, with freshly baked bread and garlic butter.”

You haven’t even finished naming the first dish, when you see the blatant hopefulness light up in his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t quite dare to ask for a portion, but you can still see his quiet longing for a freshly cooked meal.

“I’ve made enough for three, so you’re more than welcome to have some too.”

It’s a half-truth, half-lie.

You’ve actually only made enough for you, and an almost insatiable monstrous familiar.

But since Reaper is the one responsible for this whole mess, you’ve decided that she’ll simply have to share her portion. That way it will hopefully teach her a lesson too, you think.

You know, of course, that you could conjure up more with a simple spell, but that’s not the point. It’s about Reaper learning that there are consequences to her actions, as well as your overall apprehensions when it comes to practicing magic around humans.

The stranger looks a little helpless at your offer, and you quickly notice two things.

Firstly, you still don’t know the name of the man sitting half naked on your velvet couch.

And secondly, maybe you should migrate dinner from your big, wooden dining table to the small one next to the couch instead, so the guy doesn’t have to join you at your fancy Victorian dining table clad only in his underwear.

“Wait, keep yourself seated.” You tell the man when he tries to lift himself up. “I’ll fetch the food for you.”

You watch him sink back down into your couch with a little sigh, as you quickly go to work in the open kitchen behind him.

“You haven’t even told me your name yet.” You observe, while reaching for a little foldable table stored on top of your kitchen cabins.

Despite having your back turned towards him, you can feel him tense up a bit.

For a moment you suspect that the stranger might know about the power that the knowledge of a true name beholds, and you almost expect him to give you a fake one.

But when you turn back around to face him, he seems to be speaking the truth.

“My name is Eddie.” He says while watching your face carefully for any kind of reaction, and when he sees no recognition light up in your face whatsoever, he adds, “Eddie Munson.”

“Eddie Munson,” you whisper, the name doesn’t ring a bell, but you didn’t really expect it to.

“Well, this is my cat Reaper and I’m-“

You contemplate lying for a second, but if he trusts you enough with his own name, it’s only fair for you to trust him with yours, too.

Besides, he doesn’t really look like he’s with the faerie folk.

Your own name feels foreign in your mouth before it falls from your lips like a quiet curse, but Eddie doesn’t seem to recognize it either, and your shoulders relax slightly when you realize that he has no idea who you are.

Good.

Reaper decides to be part of the conversation, too, now, as she hopes up onto the couch, seeking out Eddie’s company quickly.

“Hi Reaper,” he mumbles, voice light, like he’s talking to a child, and your familiar keens at the softness.

“Reaper; A pretty name for a pretty cat,” Eddie observes, while scratching her back.

And Reaper beams.

Of course, she does; she’s easy like that.

There’s a fond smile toying on your lips as you watch their exchange before you go back to the last of your preparations.

But when you carry your cauldron over to the coffee table with kitchen mittens, which you haven’t used in forever, you watch in horror as Reaper tries to nibble on Eddie’s finger again.

“Reaper! No!” You chide, but Eddie gives you an easy smile.

“It’s really not a problem.”

See, you’re familiar’s facial expression seems to say, when you give her a stern look. He’s fine.

“Well, I think it is a problem and she really should know better. Besides, she has enough toys that she can chew up to her hearts delight. So, no reason to pester our visitor.”

“It feels quite funny.” Eddie observes.

Yeah, I bet it does, you think, but you bite your tongue.

Instead, you just throw one more warning look Reaper’s way, who tries to look as innocent as she can muster, which in her kittycat form really isn’t that difficult.

“Alright, here you go!”

Since your cottage is rather small, your kitchen, living- and dining room are a 3 in 1 kind-of-situation, which comes in handy because you don’t have to walk through a great deal of rooms and halls to get from your couch to your kitchen stove.

It’s only a few steps away, really.

“Careful, it’s still hot.” You warn, when you put the small fold-up tablet down near Eddie’s lap, who’s been sitting upright for a while now, watching you quietly in between his pets towards your cat.

There’s a big bowl of steaming stew on his little makeshift table, joined by a few slices of fluffy bread and a little pot with butter; and Eddie feels his soul already transcend into heaven, because good god, this smells amazing.

Still, he waits until you are seated by the coffee table, too. Your own bowl of stew etched upon it, and even Reaper gets a little pot, which Eddie finds kind of adorable.

When the three of you start eating, Eddie can’t help the small moan slip past his lips. This is delicious, almost indescribably so, and though he tries hard to savor it, he can’t help but wolf most of it down, because he’s just been so. fucking. hungry.

You watch him with something akin to fond eyes, as he wiggles slightly in his seat, while dipping the fresh bread into the homemade garlic butter.

“Oh god, you could kill someone for this.” He mumbles in between some bites, and the smile on your face widens.

“You can have second portion if you’d like.” You offer, and Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh, I don’t-“

“It’s fine, really. There’s enough for one more bowl, and I’m sure neither Reaper nor I mind sharing, right Reaps?”

Your cat is mentally throwing daggers at you, but you just give her a sickly-sweet smile.

“That’s what I thought. Good kitty.”

You pat her head in a patronizing way, before standing up, serving Eddie the last remains from your cauldron.

“That’s kind of a cool pot.” Eddie suddenly blurs out, “Looks kind of witchy.”

You feel yourself freeze for a second, before letting out an awkward laugh.

“Yeah, uh, well, I’m kind of into … witchy things. You know, crystals, herbs, Fleetwood Mac.”

“Sure!” Eddie says between another bite from his bread.

“Bet you have a crystal ball and some tarot decks hidden somewhere too. You’re certainly seem committed to the aesthetics. Black cat and all.”

You look at the man, trying to blink your confusion away, before handing him his steaming bowl of stew back over.

“Sharing is caring, Reaps.” You state once you notice Reaper’s unamused face.

But as it turns out, your cat has quite the opinion about sharing too. And she’s not shy of voicing those either.

“Don’t mind her, she’s always throwing tantrums at the end of the day.” You explain to Eddie with an apologetic smile, when she tries clawing her way up one of his blankets, hissing, and you have to entangle the little beast from the fabric.

She’s still snarling curses, but you decidedly play dumb.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t speak cat.”

For a moment, you think that Reaper might successfully poke your eyes out at your condescending comment, but her little paws can hardly reach your face, as she tries to throw little punches in your grasp.

Cute.

Half an hour later, Reaper is still sulking on a blanket near the fireplace, the kitchen’s almost done, because without magic cleaning up takes a lot longer than you’re used to, and Eddie is trying his hardest to fight of the repeating call of pure exhaustion, because he has a lot of questions and undoubtedly so do you.

As you make your way back over towards the strange man, you have to admit that your questions can probably wait a few more hours till morning rise. Because the poor guy really does look like he’s been through it, and it’s now really catching up to him.

You’ve already learned that he can be rather stubborn. After all, shooting down his offer to help you with the clean-up had been kind of difficult, but with his foot still being injured, you don’t want him hopping around in your kitchen space.

“I should probably still take a look at your foot.” You propose, as you sit down at the edge of the couch, looking over at Eddie, who’s still trying to fight off the inherent sleepiness that’s hitting him hard in increasingly bigger waves.

“I don’t want to-“ he mumbles, words pulled apart by a big yawn, “be a bother.”

“You’re not, but your foot might be, if you leave it unattended.”

Eddie still looks a little bit unconvinced, like he doesn’t quite trust your kindness yet, or maybe, he just doesn’t think he deserves it.

“Listen,” you state, after gazing at the flickering flames in your fireplace for a brief moment; their warm hue illuminating the otherwise darkened room with golden light, and you can feel traces of the heat lingering on your skin.

“I understand that you must have a lot of questions for me. After all, you have no idea who I am, and I have no idea who you are, but I don’t think that talking things out right now is a good idea.

Not when every second word falling from your lips ends up being a yawn, and I truthfully wouldn’t mind some good-night’s sleep either. So, how about we pin this discussion down for tomorrow morning instead?”

Eddie is about to disagree, but when all that leaves his mouth is another yawn, he has to admit you might have a point.

“Okay,” he mumbles, the sound of his rustling blankets filling the quietness of the room, while he shifts on the couch.

“Do you want me to still take a look at your foot?”

“If you really don’t mind.” He whispers, and you scoff.

“Of course not.”

You might not be a fan of humans, but you never enjoyed seeing anyone in pain, human or non-human alike.

It’s a quick thing to pull the blanket covering his feet up half-way, and you watch him wince slightly when your fingers brush against a part of his ankle. It looks a bit bruised and swollen, but not terribly so.

With as much tenderness as you can muster, you move his foot lightly, and while Eddie tries hard not to let the jolt of pain show, you can still see it clearly.

“T-that movement really hurt.” He mutters, cheeks flushed.

“I’m sorry.” Comes your hushed reply. “The ankle is probably strained, but the good news is, at least it isn’t broken.”

Eddie nods his head slowly, eyelids still heavy.

“What are you going to do now?”

“It’s easy, Reaps, get-“ biting your tongue quickly, you stop the words that almost slipped out of your mouth. “Reaps, get out of my way.”

You lightly shush the cat to the side while you stand up.

“I’ll be back in a flash, don’t go anywhere.”

Eddie just scoffs with a laugh.

“Where would I be going?” He mumbles.

“Where would I even be going?”

Eddie watches intently, or with as much intent as he can muster, as you spread some kind of salve on the bruised parts of his foot.

You’ve told him what’s in it before; arnica, chamomile, and witch hazel, he thinks he remembers, but he’s not entirely sure. You also told him what’s good for what, but he wouldn’t be able to recall any of those things if his life depended on it.

Still, he finds himself slightly in awe. The way your fingers quickly go to work, applying another tincture before reaching for the bandage makes him think you’ve done this before more than once.

“You really are quite the witch, huh.” He whispers, while trying to read the labels on some of the potions you’ve pulled out of a leathery bag.

“Hardly,” you brush him off as you tighten the bandage around his foot lightly, but despite your dismissal you feel your cheeks heat up under his admiring gaze.

“Alright, all set and done.” You state after another quiet pause, setting aside the little tape, and putting down his foot gently.

“You should try not to move around too much while you sleep, but otherwise you should be set for the night. Are you still sure you don’t want any painkillers?”

“It’s fine,” Eddie huffs, trying to get comfortable again, while you arrange the blanket around his legs back in a way that tugs him kind of in.

“Alright. If you need anything, just call my name, okay? My bedroom is just right up those stairs and I’m a light sleeper, so I should be able to help, no matter what arises.”

Eddie nods his head, another yawn contouring his face.

“Reaps, come on! You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

There’s a little disappointed frown that Eddie tries to cover up quickly, before he asks, voice timid, “She can’t stay here for company?”

He’s not looking at you, twirling around one of his many rings instead, and for a second you seriously consider it, before shaking your head softly.

“Sorry, no. Reaper gets tempted with her toys sometimes, and uh, I don’t want you to wake up to the noise of her tearing through one of her squeaky chickens.”

“I understand.” Eddie nods his head again, as you make your way towards the staircase; Reaper nestled in your arms.

“And you’re really not going to tell anyone I’m here?” Eddie questions one last time, voice incredibly soft and exhausted.

“I already told you Eddie, I won’t tell a single soul. Not until we’ve had our talk in the morning.”

“Okay.” He still seems somewhat wary, before he adds a quick and hushed, “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Eddie.” You whisper back with a small sigh.

You wish you could give him more than the pile of blankets, and the last faint glimmers flickering away in your fireplace.

But there’s hardly anything you can do for the boy right now, other than let him have a few hours of hopefully restful sleep.

And who knows what will come with the rising sun tomorrow.

You’re already with one hand on the banister of your stairs, when you hear Eddie call out your name faintly.

“Yeah?” You question, turning back around to the man you’ve only been introduced a couple of hours ago, but you still feel some kind of softness towards.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, cheeks stained a hint of cheery-red. “A-and sleep well.”

“You too, Eddie.” You hush just as quietly. “You too.”

“You like him.” Reaper singsongs teasingly as she lifts up part of your blanket to slip underneath.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

She’s back in her true from, and there are little giggles coming from her, as she cuddles up next to you until only the very end of her tail is poking out slightly from beneath the covers, and she’s quick to tug that in too.

“At least admit that he’s kind of your type.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but you do. You’re not half as stand-offish as you were in the beginning.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is! I mean, you must really like if you decided to give him my portions of the meal.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic, you’ve still had more than enough. Besides, that whole thing was more of a punishment for you than an incentive to him.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, since you already seem to believe it.”

You roll your eyes as you pull part of the shared blanket back towards yourself, before stating, “I guess, he’s not as bad as I thought he would be. And you have to admit that there’s just something about him that seems kind of tortured.”

“Right, and I’m the one with the weird taste in man, okay.”

You shove Reaper playfully, before curling up more next to her.

“Shut up and let me sleep.”

“I wonder who’ll you dream about.”

“Oh my god, don’t make this weirder than it already is, and stop fumbling around.”

“I would, if you’d stop hogging the fucking blanket, which we only have to share, might I remind you, because you decided to give all the other ones to the goddamn stranger sleeping downstairs who you supposedly don’t care about.”

“A stranger you brought here in the first place.”

“Oh hush, you can thank me for it later.”

“Like hell I will and-oh my god, get your hairy feet away from my legs.”

“But they’re cold.” Reaper whines, and you stifle the urge to throw another pillow.

There’s a quiet tug and pull fight going on between you two for a bit, as you both struggle to get comfortable underneath the shared fluffy fabric.

“Fuck,” Reaper suddenly whispers, after being unusually quiet for a moment.

“If you’re cuddled up here, and I’m cuddled up here, who’s going to turn off the lights?”

You both groan in unison, before another bickering fight starts breaking out.

You wake up again to a piercing scream that makes your blood run cold and the hairs on your body stand up straight.

It takes you a heartbeat or two, to figure out whether it was a dream or not; but at the memories of the previous events this evening, your thoughts immediately go to Eddie.

Reaper’s still lying beside you, wide awake too, and concern etched deep into her faces, as she watches you get up quickly.

“Stay here.” You instruct, while stumbling past the bed. “I’ll call you if I need help.”

When you rush down the stairs into the living room, everything is eerily quiet, something that definitely doesn’t help ease your pounding heart.

The fire has completely burned out by now, limiting your vision as well. But luckily there’s are some soft rays of moonlight slipping past your window curtains, so you can kind of make out a trembling figure sitting upright on your couch.

Eddie.

You whisper his name with a tenderness, that only the nighttime ever bears witness to, but despite your efforts, Eddie still flinches at the sound of your voice and your steps.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.” You try to soothe, hoping it might calm him down a little, but he just looks at you, wide-eyed and shoulders shaking slightly.

Your heart sinks at the sight, tugging on something deeply hidden within of you, and the feeling only intensifies once you realize that he’s been crying, cheeks tear-stained and red.

“Eddie what’s wrong?” You whisper, worried that he might be seriously hurt, or at the very least more hurt than he’d initially led on.

But he only shakes his head, eyes averted, and chest heaving with quick strokes.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice rough, and tinted with embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence before he mumbles a quick, “It was just another nightmare.”

“Oh,” You whispers, unsure of what else to say.

For a brief moment, Eddie’s eyes hesitantly meet yours, and it’s like he’s trying to scope out your reaction.

You’re not sure what he expected; anger maybe, or amusement.

But there’s nothing but soft sorrow reflected in your eyes.

“Nightmares can be the worst.” You mumble.

You would know. You still have them too, even centuries later.

“Listen, Eddie, whatever you’ve dreamed about, your safe now. You’re safe.”

You crouch down a little, gently taking one of his shaking hands in yours.

“You’re safe.”

Relief washes over Eddie’s features, and as it floods his eyes, he has to avert his gaze quickly again.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eddie doesn’t have an answer to that, and while silence fills the space between you two, you try to think of something that might help him.

“Do you maybe wanna talk about it?” You carefully offer. “Sometimes it helps to name the ghosts that haunt you.”

Eddie looks at you with questioning eyes.

“A-are you sure?” He sniffles.

“What? That it’s going to help? Well, I wouldn’t put a pledge on it but-“

“No.” Eddie interrupts you quietly, “Are you sure you want to listen to all that?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.” Eddie states with a bitter laugh, before growing a bit antsy again.

“Alright, scoot over then.” You state, and Eddie complies after a heartbeat of wonder as he watches you sit down next to him.

The man with the unruly hair and the tired eyes keeps playing with some loose strands from one of your blankets, before saying, “I just keep seeing her die, over and over again.”

“Who?” You whisper.

“A friend. I watched her die and now it’s all I see whenever I close my eyes.”

There’s something inside of you that grows stiff at his words, as they truly sink in.

“You watched your friend die?”

Your eyes travel back to Eddie as he squirms slightly.

“Yes.” He states, voice emotional. “Four days ago.”

“How a-and who?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if you tried.”

“Is that why you’re on the run?” You question. “Because the murderers saw you, and now they’re after you too?”

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head.

“No,” dejection clear in his voice, he asserts, “They think that I did it.”

You feel like you’ve been hit by lightning.

“Eddie,” you murmur, heartbeat racing in your chest now, “tell me everything that happened.”

And Eddie does; but not without his apprehensions at first.

Still, you find out about Chrissy and the horrors of her death.

You find out about his hide-out at an acquaintance’s place, about his friend Dustin, and the theory of the upside down.

You find out about how he’s the number one suspect to the police, and how one of his classmates started a vigilant group against him, completely convinced that he’s in some kind of deal with the devil.

Recounting a lot of those parts has Eddie back in an emotional turmoil; and you’re not sure who started hugging whom first, but now he’s currently hiding away in your embrace, face pressed against the nape of your neck as he murmurs.

“Please don’t tell them where I am. Please don’t let them get to me. It’s like a fucking witch-hunt, and I’m not sure what they’ll do once they’ll have me.”

It's these words that end up haunting you the most that night.

It’s these words that stir something deep down inside of you.

A memory, and a curse, and an experience you don’t want anyone to go through ever again.

Not if you can help it.

Not if there’s something you can do about it.

“Eddie, it’s okay.” You whisper. “It’s going to be okay, and I’m not going to tell anyone, you hear me?”

You feel Eddie nod his head against your skin, as your fingers come up to his hair, brushing through his curls carefully.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, and you can stay as long as you need. You said that you have nowhere to go, but you can just stay here, until Hawkins has found the actual killer, and you can go back home again.”

You feel Eddie pause for a moment, his quiet sniffles coming to a halt.

“You would let me stay?” He whispers. “You would let me hide here? But you don’t even know how long this manhunt will go. It might take months before they’ll might clean off my name. And maybe even that won’t happen. Maybe I’ll always-“

“Hey, hey, easy there, Eddie. You’re going to drive yourself insane with those what-if’s. Listen, I don’t know what exactly the future will hold, but I won’t let you succumb to the fate of a witchhunt.”

A fate so similar to your own.

A fate that cut you so deeply, you still carry the scars on your heart, centuries later.

A fate simply nobody deserves to live through – not even a human like Eddie.

Eddie cannot believe his ears; cannot believe that you’d offer to help him, without really knowing who he is, without really knowing whether or not he’s been telling the truth.

Still, you’re adamant about your words and their meaning, and he struggles to comprehend how you could be that kind.

“Why would you help me like that?” He whispers, voice hushed and so confused.

Because people once thought that I killed someone too, when all I did was try to help. And my family had to pay the price for it, every single one of them, except for me; and they would have killed me too, if they’d found me, you think.

But you don’t say that.

Couldn’t let your lips form these words, even if you wanted to.

It’s one of those kind of secrets that’s been buried for so long; even just whispering the name of the tragedy would be like asking for trouble.

Instead, you say, “Because if what you told me is true, you deserve shelter more than anyone. I’ve seen something similar like this play out before and I’ll be damned if I’ll let it happen again.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie mumbles with a slight tilt of his head, and you bite your tongue in a silent curse.

“I, uh, I just heard about a case similar to this, and it was all really horrifying.” You quickly try to cover up, praying to the gods above that your words are convincing enough.

You seem to have succeeded, or at the very least, Eddie is too tired to ask any complex follow-up questions to your supposed story.

For a brief moment, you simply stay like this; your arms wrapped around Eddie’s waist, while he folds right into. He’s still exhausted, and if you’re honest with the onslaught of new revelations, so are you.

“You should try get some more sleep, Eddie.” You murmur against his shoulder, all while trying your hardest not to notice how foreign this whole situation feels.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that this would be how your night ends. Not today and not for the next couple of centuries at the very least.

Nevertheless, here you are, comforting a human about a fate drawn in such a familiar shape to yours.

Except he still has a shot at a happy ending.

The happy ending you’ve never got to witness.

Eddie hums at your recommendation, but it’s quickly followed by a timid question.

“Would you mind staying just a little while longer? I don’t want to be all alone and watch her die again.”

Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as an herbal remedy for nightmares, at least none that’s bulletproof, and since you’re still very much not into the idea of practicing any kind of magic in the presence of a human, there’s little you can do about them.

So, if Eddie thinks you’re your lingering company might help, well, where’s the harm in that?

It’s only going to be for a little while; till he’s drifted off, maybe, you tell yourself.

“I’ll stay for a bit, Eddie.” You whisper, and the man lowly hums at that.

“Thank you.” Comes a muffled reply, and you know he’s not just talking about your company.

“It’s really not a problem.” You whisper back.

You’re not just talking about staying here until he’s fallen asleep, either.

You wake up the next morning to hairs in your face and they’re not the ones of your cat.

You know that because Reaper is sitting right on the coffee table next to you, a bright expression on her face.

“Morning.” She chirps, a knowing look in her eyes as she regards you and Eddie.

It takes you a heartbeat to realize where you are exactly, and what is going on.

You must have fallen asleep last night on the couch too, instead of wandering back to your own bed.

You feel flustered at the revelation, and Reaper’s teasing looks certainly don’t help either. But trying to get out of Eddie’s grip, even though he’s still fast asleep, isn’t as easy as you had hoped.

And you just know that Reaper is going to have a field day with this, bringing it up and rubbing it in your face for the next few centuries.

“Well, well, well. At least you were able to share more than one blanket.” Reaper observes, before jumping off the table and strutting away with a swing in her step. “But sure, you don’t care about him.”

You let your head fall back into your pillow with a small groan.

You hate how Reaper might have the tiniest, littlest point; and it doesn’t help that Eddie looks completely angelic and peaceful in your arms.

God, you’re fucked, and you haven’t even known him for a full 24 hours yet.

In the end, you do manage to entangle yourself from Eddie without waking him up.

You need to talk to Reaps about the revelations of the night, but your usual chats in the kitchen are rather difficult to have with Eddie sleeping only a few feet away.

So, you do the only sensible thing you can think of, stepping outside into the surrounding woods and your little garden for some privacy instead.

“Be honest,” you confront Reaper with a gentle bump of your shoulder against hers, “did you eavesdrop on Eddie and me last night?”

“Me? No! Should I have?”

You roll your eyes slightly.

“No, of course not, but if you did, this conversation would at least be unnecessary.”

“Well, I didn’t. So, tell me what mister puffy hair had in his defense after screaming the house down like that.”

“This isn’t funny, Reaps. He really is traumatized.” You explain with a chiding look on your face, before slowly recalling the events of last night.

“He had a nightmare? Aw man, I thought he just stubbed his toe or something.” Reaper states, and you give her another slight bump with your shoulder.

But even she grows unusually quiet after you bring up the witch-hunt aspect and the reasons for his distraught.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

“The right thing, of course.”

“And that is what exactly, you moral witch?”

“He’s going to stay, until his name gets cleared, and it’s safe for him to go home again.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I am?”

“I’m sorry, but are you forgetting that I’m pretty much tied to my damn cat costume around that boy, because mortals have a bit of a tendency to turn mad, or to stone upon seeing my true form?

Do I have to remind you that you said you wouldn’t do any magic around another human, and now one is staying here for an indefinite amount of time? How do you think all of that’s going to work out, huh?”

“Well, we’re going to make it work. Besides. what are a few days without magic in the grand scheme of thing?.”

“Days? Do you think this kind of issue is going to be solved in the matter of a few days?! You must have a lot of faith in the human police force if you think they’ll figure this out that quickly. This could end up taking weeks, months, or worse, his name never gets cleared at all! What then, huh? What then?”

Reaper has a point; she usually has, you suppose, but you just tell her the same thing you told Eddie.

“We don’t know how the future will play out, so there’s not much use driving yourself crazy over it. Besides, it not going to be for forever. Eddie will want to go back to his friends and family eventually, even if his name ends up not being cleared the way he deserves.”

Reaper still looks unconvinced, but she’s not the only one who’s mastered the skill of making puppy-eyes.

“Come on, Reaps, it’s not going to be that bad. We can make this work, we always do.”

“Sure, but you usually have your magic, unless of course-“

“Oh, no! Forget it! I’m still with my promise to never practice magic around a human again. And that promise continues to stand. End of that discussion.”

“But that’s going to make things so much more difficult.” Reaper whines, throwing her heads back in annoyance, and you can’t help but laugh a little at her dramatic antics.

“You’re going to regret this decision.”

“I will be just fine, thank you.”

Once you two are back in the house, you start with your preparations for breakfast, while Eddie is still sleeping peacefully.

He needs it, you think, and after everything he’s been through, he deserves it too.

By the time he wakes up, the bread you’ve baked is ready, and you’re in the midst of carrying it to the coffee table together with some homemade jams, and a big jug of hot cocoa.

Reaper still isn’t particularly satisfied with your plan, but you ignore her ramblings as you pass out the plates.

You try your best to focus on Eddie instead, who’s just woken up.

He’s a little disoriented at first, but once the memories of last night come back, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks as his eyes dart over to you, and you two try to make soft small talk to the best of your abilities.

The breakfast still ends up being a little awkward, as you reassure him that him staying in your cottage for the foreseeable future really is fine; that you didn’t mind him waking you up, and that it really is no bother at all.

Reaper sighs, but with her being an adorable cat again, it comes out more like a kind of sneeze.

“Bless you.” Eddie coos, and you have to stifle a laughter when his words have Reaper arching her back, hissing.

“She’s not to fond of Christian traditions, even the ones who have lost their meanings a bit.” You mumble, and Eddie laughs lightly.

The shy smiles you two keep exchanging over breakfast feel foreign, especially with how genuine they are.

You reiterate your offer, that he can stay and take shelter here, but Eddie is adamant about making some kind of pact.

“If I get to stay here, at least let me help you too. I don’t want to be confined to the couch endlessly, and I’m sure there are some tasks I could do, that don’t involve the usage of my foot.”

You appreciate that he wants to be useful in some kind of way, and considering that you’ll have to forgo your magic ways, another pair of helping hands could certainly come in handy.

“Alright, deal.” You promise, hand stretched out towards Eddie’s.

“Deal.” He states, beaming brightly, the previous bags under his eyes only faint traces of their former selves.

He’s going to get better, and he’s going to be okay, you tell yourself.

And above all, he’s not going to be cursed with the same fate you had to endure a long time ago.

You just won’t let that happen.

It’s a promise you silently plead to him, to yourself and the stars that night, as you step out to clear your head with fresh forest air and the twinkling lights of the universe, peaking through the branches of trees above.

And just like all your other promises, you intend to keep that one too.

You couldn’t keep your last one, but this time things will be different; they simply have to be.

____________

And that's it! I'll try to have the next part out soon, but I have a couple more Halloween-themed stories planed, so we'll see if I'll manage to post them all in time 😵‍💫.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

115 notes · View notes