#(rip Shadow i made them stay up for so many nights so late they where telling * me * to go to bed rhwohdkwnd)

[beonhwarp]

INTRODUCING, IM DAEWON OF THE HOUSE OF MAGNOLIA !

the TWENTY-THREE year old is said to look a lot like HAN JISUNG (HAN) and resides in the MAGNOLIA ESTATE. they are best known as the HOUSE OF MAGNOLIA'S THIRD-IN-LINE and ASSISTANT LIBRARIAN AT BEONHWA LIBRARY. look! i think they're headed this way! but make sure to read this CHECKLIST before you go.

a look further into their life . . .

PAST

im daewon was born in beonhwa to a single mother. his mother, im hyejin, was an opera singer. hyejin was a woman known by many for her beauty and talent; but to her son, she was like the moon. she was beautiful and shone in a way that she shares the sky with the other stars in the night.

from birth and until age 6, daewon was raised by his mother in the beonhwa outskirts. his days were spent with the local children, running through the beonhwa forest and peeking from the outside on the training grounds. he liked going along with anything his neighborhood friends were interested in doing, because the more they did the quicker the day was over and he'd see his mother again.

his mother was the one to instill his core values of honesty, equality, open-mindedness, and empathy into him. she always had entertaining ways of teaching him these morals to him by ways of storytelling and uses of imagery.

the night of the fire should've been just like any other night: his mother would return home later in the evening after work, they eat dinner together, she would humor daewon's silly little musings of the day, sing him a song to sleep and they would both turn in for the night.

instead, daewon woke up in the middle of the night due to an increase in the temperature. it was summertime, but the nights were usually cooler so it becoming hotter during the night made no sense to him. as he left his own room, he saw his mother's room was engulfed in flames. his attempts to rip open the sliding door were semi-successful as it was jammed, he tried to wedge himself in the small entryway that was available, only to singe the back of his waist in the process. either finally awaking from the smell of smoke, or them hearing daewon's cries, one of the neighbors ripped him out of the burning house. with daewon being forced to sit outside, the neighbor went back in, but it was too late — hyejin was already gone.

the time in between his mother's death and his eventual adoption is like a blur to daewon. the elders tell him it's because he was under such tremendous stress, but he does remember bits and pieces. the neighbor who saved him let him stay with their family for a little while. not wanting to be a burden to his savior, he found work with the house of magnolia.

he started off as an errand boy, then he was tasked to shadow one of his siblings to learn the ropes, as time passed and he picked up in his own tasks he was eventually adopted by the magnolia house at the age of 7.

he has worked his ass off for the house of magnolia — not with the goal of rising the ranks or becoming the heir, but out of the mindset of they took care of him when he was young. he didn’t have to worry about where he would sleep, where his next meal would come from, or even if he would be safe throughout the night.

being in the house of magnolia for all these years he's learned the values of knowledge — to keep seeking it, influence — how to wield it for both the good and bad, and responsibility — what keeps him grounded in his decision making.

personality breakdown: relatively likeable, a for the people type of man; not just for his people, honest sometimes to a fault, sometimes he gets lost with his head in the clouds, he's not overly ambitious and is satisfied with just his basic needs being met.

PRESENT

daewon has a very naive take about beonhwa. he thinks that the three houses are doing a fine job especially since all he has to compare it to is the atrocities the kim family committed that he learns about in his history lessons. he does believe that there’s a lot of things that are very dated — i mean he’s in an arranged marriage to keep peaceful ties between the houses of mugunghwa and magnolia. couldn’t they just as easily exchange land, trade secrets, maybe access to the library’s basement, you know.. anything but their children’s lives?

the land itself is one that daewon has grown to love, as he was born and raised here. he’s not too keen on the wealth gap, even if he is on the side that benefits. he feels much more comfortable at the moon tavern than the more lavish options on flora ave. you aren’t scrutinized and looked at as if you’re an interesting painting found in the mugunghwa gallery when you’re in the moon tavern.

FUTURE

with their respective canons practically dooming the relationship between rush daffodil and amaryllis i would love to write through daewon having a real first love. i imagine daewon trying to be as respectful to his betrothed as possible, always loyal to her but he has no real concept of what romantic love is supposed to look like.

due to how daewon would personally view his sibling narcissus’ selfish desires, he would be a huge supporter of primrose. i would like to write through him practically being primrose’s hype man or him trying to actively sabotage narcissus to make them look bad. just overall the angst that there could be to write in having a ‘you weren’t like this when we were growing up’ type of relationship with narcissus.

after the loss of his mother, daewon was eventually taken in by house of magnolia. due to them taking him in at such a young age, and the care he received he has a strong sense of loyalty to the house. i think it would be fun to write through someone flipping his viewpoint on the house/houses, whether it’s hearing rumors about the houses from someone like wolfsbane or reading an article from petunia about some heinous shit they’ve done.

i really want to write a plot out with tiger lily with them having some sort of connection to his mother (even more so if they end up being a fem muse!); i have daewon written as someone that would’ve gotten his more progressive mindset from his mother, so someone that went outside of the norm of the ruling of the three houses could’ve been previously supported by his mother.

daewon has heard of some rumors that his mother’s death was no accident. it’s a haunting thought that lives at the back of his mind, and i think it would be a fun plot point to explore. as he currently is, he isn’t actively seeking out information on her death but he does keep an ear out for the rumors. seeing as he has no idea who his father is, the two tying together could also make for an interesting twist.

overall character development i would like to see is daewon pushing harder for some of the more progressive ideals that he has, being more firm regardless of how the houses elders would view him. as he currently is, he is able to think for himself but he still has a naive bias towards the three houses. i think it would be interesting to kind of flip his trust into distrust, trying to figure out who he can really trust around beonhwa, who can he put his faith into.

written by eight (any pronouns ok!), 25 in the cst tmz. personal triggers: n/a

[primal-con]

So a certain goth often accidentally subjects me to a lot of weird movies, many of which are part of the broad visual inspirations for this. Mostly Crimson Peak, Guillermo del Toro's Cabinet of Curiosities (Dreams in the Witch House and The Murmuring specifically) and like a little bit Dark Shadows. You can blame them for that :3

Mkay, AU idea is as follows: (WARNING UP TOP, this is inspired by both canon events and a shitload of gothic horror, this concept contains murder, suicide, body horror, hauntings, semi-detailed gore/deaths, and some stuff that could I guess pass for necrophilia in a theoretical paranormal sense, among other things. Approach at your own risk!)

Human AU, vaguely 19th century possibly late 18th I haven't decided yet, somewhere in Europe but tbh the exact location doesn't matter too much I just feel like they've got a lot of weird tragedies over there. Very classic horror movie setup for stories of this era, where Rewind (the downtrodden protagonist struggling to process and rectify the string of recent tragedies in his life and resolve the mystery of his missing husband) moves away from the city into an abandoned old manor in the countryside. His hope is that by reducing the noise of his daily life, he can fully focus on gathering all his investigative resources toward finding the vanished Dominus Ambus. He chooses the manor for it's incredibly low going price, something to do with a local legend of a vengeful ghoul, but in true horror protagonist fashion he dismisses the claims as nothing but superstition. The house also presents the opportunity to occupy his mind and hands as he fixes it during his stay, to perhaps distract from the long lonely hours of pouring over facts and details. As many horror protagonists of his kind are wont to do, he believes himself to be in a very different movie. Perhaps if he had been, he might've gotten the new beginning he desired.

And just as these sorts of protagonists often do, as the summer progresses and he further works through fixing up the manor and compiling his investigation, Rewind begins to uncover more about the manor's last inhabitants. He also begins to suspect that one of them still remains within its walls. An inhabitant that seems to have taken a peculiar interest in the new tenant...

To his credit, Chromedome was a spectacular brain surgeon. He held no love for the work, but he was skilled at it and it paid him well. Enough to finance a secluded home in which he could spend the rest of his days with the love of his life. Or that was the plan at least. Until, of course, the night of the grizzly murder. It was a story that rocked the town and to this day earned a place in local legend. The poor widow on the hill, his love ripped from him too soon, the killer never found and brought to justice. It was rumored the poor victim's face had been practically caved in, a brutal affair with no clues. The widow persisted as a phantom within the town for a short while, but it wasn't long till the townsfolk simply ceased to see him anymore. Eventually, the groundskeeper made the timid approach to the manor's gates to investigate. What he found would further feed town speculation for decades to come. The young lord of the house, face down in the bedroom, his own surgical tools scattered across the floorboards and piercing through his eyes into his brain, blood painting his hands. As though he or someone else had attempted to crudely lobotomize him.

What exactly transpired on those grounds, from the murder of the spouse to the mysterious death of the widow, has been a topic of gossip for nearly fifty years now. Did the brilliant surgeon take his own life, so gripped with grief he couldn't stand to live any longer? Or perhaps he'd gotten too close to the truth, and his lover's killer had come back to tie up loose ends. Either way, after the first three families ran screaming from the grounds rambling of horrible things inside that wanted them out, the bank finally gave up on the resale of the house, leaving it nothing but a grizzly reminder of the tragedy that befell the young couple and continues to haunt the sleepy town.

That is until the desperate would-be-widower seeking solitude and a task to occupy his hands during his increasingly frantic search arrives in town, happy to take the property off the bank's hands. A young man who bears a striking resemblance to the murdered lover who once lived in that very same manor. A young man whom the grief-ridden ghost trapped inside his new home grows quickly attached to, convinced he's the reincarnation of his yet-unfound husband whom he thought he'd be joining in death, only to be met with long, empty halls.

Regardless of what does or does not live within that accursed manor, there are questions yet unanswered that perhaps only its inhabitants can come close to uncovering. Who killed the surgeon's husband? What led to his untimely demise at the end of his own tools? Where, if anywhere, is the recordkeeper's missing husband, and what will he find instead in the walls of his new pet project? Was it perhaps a bigger mistake to hope than to give up and move on, or is it simply the ghosts of this place's tragic past beginning to weigh on his already troubled mind...

I truly cannot explain the thought process that brought this whole idea on, I simply need to get it out there so that y'all can understand my vision here. I'm gonna draw so much weird shit I promise you that. Also I… probably have to change CD and Rewind's names 😔I hate doing that in human AUs but like I don't think I can pull off this whole vibe when the motherfuckin vengeful ghost is named Chromedome so bear with me, more ideas soon because this plot bunny is about to be my whole existence for a little while!

Also fucking incredible playlist by @blitzwingtittiemagnets because they're taste is fucking stellar and they took my vibes and ran with it!!

NEW AU JUST DROPPED THIS ONE IS A FUCKING BANGER SO PREPARE YOURSELVES

[voidlitmoon]

Sometimes I remember all the AUs I've made that have never seen the light of day outside my friend group (cough mostly Shadow and Pud cough) and just think man, that could have been like the big thing of my account that people ask about

Welp ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[peteyprecious616]

Behind the mask

Pairing: Batman x reader

Summary: Somehow the man in the mask was your soulmate. You didn't know anything about him except for late night visits and whispers. But maybe you realized you meant more to him than just run-ins and phone calls.

Word count: ~1.7k

A/N: I saw the new Batman movie and let me just say...Robert Pattinson as Batman. That's all I need to say. But idk what this is but emo Bruce Wayne made me feel something. Also ive never really written a soulmate au so im not sure how it works in general. Also don't read this if you haven't seen the film obviously. It doesn't follow the movie really at all but it has some themes in it from the film. But let me know what you think.

Warnings: Nothing really; just small mentions of violence and late nights lol

I’m trying to keep you safe

I need to stay away

Stay close

Don’t leave

I can’t lose you. I've already lost everyone else.

Small grunts sounded from the metals stairs above you as you cleaned the glass at the bar.

Your eyes hurt from the number of times they rolled at the same run-ins with him.

Your fingers grasped the cup tighter, making your fingers rush white from poor circulation. You couldn’t stand his poor choice of timing.

The small tattoo still stuck permanently to your wrist as you thought about that damn cape. He always knew where to find you.

Protecting you

Saving you

But here you were, still stuck in this god-forsaken city. Pure hatred ran through your veins as you heard Cobblepot's small pleads to the man in the mask to stop. Only looking out for his bar’s reputation.

You chose this job for many reasons.

Money, fun, to spite him.

You were angry at the man that promised you everything and nothing in the shadowed alleyways of your small apartment complex.

How he couldn’t be with you because it was too dangerous but he needed to keep you safe

You were his soulmate.

—

You barely knew him. Small checks that followed months of radio silence were aggravating. His job is his only priority. Hours of examining evidence given to him surprisingly by the commissioner himself.

He barely slept, only eating when Alfred brought it down to him. Even then it was only touched a few times before he went back to work.

He called you sometimes. To make sure you were doing well, and you were okay.

But the less you knew the better.

He sent you small, expensive gifts hoping it would keep you happy. He never asked you to live with him.

You’ve asked him numerous times about it. He always told you, you would be better off.

Crime controlled his life. When he was asleep, he was haunted by his need to fulfill his father’s legacy to keep Gotham running.

You saw him on dark rooftops when you walked home from work. You never told him where you worked, walking different streets and alleyways at night.

You knew that he would tell you to quit.

The iceberg lounge was a criminal hotspot. Surrounded by famous-named Gotham residents and secret mob members that no one knew the names of.

It was where criminals and "good people" were allowed to mingle together. Or to hide and confess their sins to someone to fix them.

So you heard about what kept Batman up at night. The new bad that kept everyone on edge.

He told riddles; that was all you knew.

But that was what his whole life revolved around.

He was so stupid. So ignorant towards his safety. To put his own life at risk constantly for a city that had already fallen to ash.

To sin.

He still puts on a mask to hide his identity from a city that has already ripped his body and soul bare. He was a broken man trying to piece together a broken city;

A ripped cape and scars were gifted to him; the pain that was given to him to keep this city from bleeding out.

Even though it had nothing left to save.

He didn’t care about saving himself or saving the joke of the government that keeps trying to push on the population.

It will get better.

Keep going. Believe in us.

But everyone was greedy for money, for lust.

Only looking out for themselves.

Him only looking out for you

He was too selfish. Surrounded by people filled with it just egged him on.

He just kept getting angrier. Enraged at what this city has become. His father believed in the best of Gotham. He believed the city had good in it.

But all the good that he saw was in you. And only you.

So he kept fighting, even though he already lost the ongoing battle between good and evil that ran through the streets of his beloved home.

His mind ramped with guilt and hatred for letting it fall so quickly. And let you live in it for so long.

Who cared about vengeance? Who cared about anything when it all could just be a lie that spilled from greedy lips. He knew that he could only do so much. Alfred told him many times to hang up the cape. To slow down or leave the city because he couldn’t do any more than he already has.

What his family already tried to do.

Even with money, people had a poor sense of change; To be better people.

Alfred accepted this fact long ago, but you kept him going.

So when he found out you worked under Penguin, he froze. He dropped everything to come to find you.

—

Your bed started to feel foreign as you lay there. Your phone rested upon your chest, almost waiting for it to ring.

You did not have any plans today or tonight. It was a rare occurrence to have time to yourself.

Especially when your life had to revolve around him.

Even though it was never really put together, Batman was like the invisible glue that silently held the city steady. Always taking care of others because it's what the city needed to survive.

Holding himself together, keeping above water was another story. But his disheveled hair that was scattered upon his pillow, while you cuddled up against his bruised body, his mumbling about saving this god-forsaken town for his family, and for you was enough for him.

Your small relief that you gave him at night that made him forget that the world was ending was enough to go back out the next day.

You knew it wasn’t going to last forever.

The way he sacrificed himself to Gotham every night, without a single care in the world. Bruises were hidden by long hair that covered his face when he hid it in the crook of your shoulder.

Hiding from the light that cursed his name, you held his weak body in your arms, waiting for him to crack.

But as he laid still, silent breathes that hit your neck you still held him close. Because even if you didn’t know him, he was still a part of you.

Kisses given to cleaned, shallow cuts; soft brushes over eternal scars were just a normal interaction.

But your soul is bound with his, even if his is lost and a bit dark just like the rest of the city.

He was still yours to have

Forever

—

The last interaction was over three months ago.

Now showing up in this overcrowded bar, looking for you was not something you could handle. You called a fellow worker over to fill your shift as you grabbed your coat from the back of the bar.

You pulled out the collar of your jacket, fixing your hair as you fish for your keys in your pockets. Praying he was busy elsewhere.

But you could feel his presence becoming more familiar. Your body was magnetic towards him. Your mind struggled to give in as you fumbled to find your keys that were sitting in your hand practically.

Eyes pulled to the ground as you turned to the back door, you felt him stand behind you. His black mask doing nothing to hide his worried stare aimed at your body.

You still felt his fingertips caressing your body that night he left. The whispers and promises that still entangled your mind and soul,

I will save this city. I will be back for you.

I need you.

I love you.

"you know you can't save everyone, right?" you muttered as your back facing him.

You always tried to reassure him. He held too much on his shoulders. Uprooting his whole life before his father died and locking it away. He needed to make his father proud. So all the guilt bled through his hands and chest as he fought crime day after day.

He was never good with words. His family; other news reporters; spoke for him. He never wanted to talk to anyone because words hurt. They didn't get the work done.

But you heard him murmur as your hand caught the doorknob,

"I only need to save you."

You sighed as your hand gripped the handle tightly. He couldn't do this to you now.

"You barely know me."

"You're still important to me. Even if I'm not important to you." He said as you felt his chest hovering behind your back.

You knew he was getting anxious. He needed you safe.

"Why should I care?" you questioned as your back hit the door as you turned to see his paint-covered eyes. Your hand shifting to hold the doorknob.

What did he want you to say when he looked you in the eyes and said,

"Because I love you."

"You don't mean that."

You never knew what he meant.

Hiding his emotions, his whole life behind a mask.

If he never told you he was your soulmate, you would never have figured it out. Sometimes you wish you never met him.

But that tattoo on your wrist said otherwise.

you heard the words,

"I can't lose you too," as his lips met your ear. An easy kiss was pressed against your forehead.

He opened the door behind you and got you to your car first.

Before anything

because he knew that even if he lost everyone he cared about; his family, Alfred,

you were still promised to him. You were made for each other. He would never be alone if he had someone that he was meant to spend eternity with.

So he'd fight anyone, go anywhere, get every bruise if it meant he still got you in the end.

So yes he did hide emotions from you, kept to himself these past few months.

Because if the Riddler knew how much he would sacrifice to save you. You would be the first one he'd lose.

Batman didn't have any weaknesses. But Bruce Wayne did.

[yandere-sins]

My Name

Horrortober Day 6: Time “How long has it been?”  

Oh man, first Xiao piece and I??? Really enjoyed it???? When will he come home, I’m desperate for my lovely boy ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Twisted Thoughts, Fighting/Death of monsters, Planning of Kidnapping Characters: Xiao x Reader

How long has it been?

It felt like Xiao waited forever for you to call him. He would have loved to deny that he waited for it… but he did. Ever since he told you to call when you needed him, he had been waiting—hoping!— you would, rather sooner than later. If only he could get a good look at you again, he would feel prepared enough to face his duties again. You were the beacon of light in his life, no matter how harsh he spoke to you or faked disliking you. Your job wasn’t any more dangerous than any other in this world, making you travel back and forth cities to sell your merchandise there. You needed someone who could help you if things went downhill. 

You needed Xiao. 

His fingers were still tingling from the feeling of your body as he held you. Even when you squirmed and flinched in his arms as he defeated the monsters bothering you, you were warm and soft, and you smelled like dirt- But the good kind! Xiao didn’t know how else to describe it. You’ve been on the road for a long time, showers weren’t your priority probably, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. You were perfect just as you were.

And finally, you called. Or rather, screamed into the disappearing sun on the horizon, for Xiao to come and save you. You fulfilled the promise to ask for his help any time, and he fulfilled his by coming to your rescue. No matter how weak he felt, how much he wanted to vomit at the sight of more and more foes arriving. With you, weakly as you were, leaning into his chest, avoiding your eyes from the death and fight, he would have defeated armies of Hilichurls if necessary. All while holding you, never letting go of his precious sun. 

The toll on his body was tremendous, his breathing ragged. Still, standing in the middle of disappearing corpses, Xiao was victorious. For you. For both of you. He turned his head to look at you, the disheveled hair slick with sweat out of fear and flight instinct. You weren’t made for the outdoors; not as long as they were cruel and dangerous. You wouldn’t have come out of this attack unscathed if not for him. 

Letting go of his weapon, he petted over your head, pushing it down and combing out some leaves. He knew he was rough around the edges, unfit for gentle comfort. But if he could help your shivering to wane, he would have tried anything. You once showed kindness to him; he had to repay it. 

Helping you towards a big stone out in the open, you two were stumbling over your feet while you grew wary, looking up and realizing there was no fight anymore. But Xiao wasn’t about to let you go, much less leave you alone right away. He’d stay. It’s been too long, and the temptation to be close to you too big.

Making you sit down, you folded like a sack of potatoes before regaining some composure. You were fidgeting with your ripped sleeves, avoiding looking up at the dark matter rising to the sky from the dead Hilichurls. Instead, you looked at him, studied him, his hair, expression, the hands that tried to desperately be gentle as they searched for wounds on your body. Xiao didn’t mind. You could stare as much as you wanted at him as long as he didn’t have to respond to it. Silently, he was begging you to look more at him. Just… a little more. Look at him as if he was your hero.

Edgy, you called him after bothering him at the balcony of the Wangshu Inn. No one allowed you to be there; Xiao didn’t want to have company that night. But you couldn’t sleep, and sitting on the roof appeared to be a better alternative than turning in your bed to you. He told you he hated your presence, and you laughed, saying it was fine. Fine. How could it be fine? You told him about your business and your family even though he never asked, and then you asked about him and his past. He… he had been weak. That night, he had fought and conquered and been incredibly weak afterwards. So he told you, and you laughed again, telling him how edgy he was before leaving him behind, confused and irritated by your words.

The next day, you brought Almond Tofu and left him a note, thanking him for sticking with you and be honest.

He didn’t forget about you ever since.

Even Xiao felt stupid for seeing you off when your stay ended. He had no business meddling with you or anyone in your world, but now that he finally saw you again, he was furious for letting you go. What he should have done was hold you back, make you stay longer. But when you thanked him for offering his help, smiling at him so kindly, he let go of your arm, and gone you were. Only to end up battered and bruised, just like he feared.

“How long has it been?” he asked, dragging his finger over a bruise that wasn’t fresh anymore. It was at least two or three days old, yet, no tint lighter than as if it happened just now. Instantly, his throat was clogged with guilt. And though his question wasn’t about the bruise, you answered honestly, confirming the two days he assumed.

“I meant, how long has it been since someone called for me,” he corrected himself in a mumble, a question you were in no place to answer. Years. Decades. So long, he didn’t remember the last time. But now, you did. You. The person he wanted to answer to. Only, he was too late anyway—he couldn’t protect you either.

“You need to be treated,” he worried with a stern face. Anger flitted over his features as you shook your head, wiping away the tears of panic you had produced. “What I need is to get to Mondstadt,” you argued. Thick-headed. Stubborn. A thick-headed, stubborn, weak human, that’s what you were. That’s what you were supposed to be, but his heart throbbed painfully as he cursed you in his mind. Not even his body wanted to think badly about you, much less Xiao himself.

“No,” he denied your idea firmly, placing his arm around your shoulder and hooking the other under your knees. There it was again, that tingling sensation that overcame him when he touched you. You were squirming some more against his actions before you tensed in pain. Bruises would heal. Cuts would close. But if there was something internally, something Xiao could not see, then he didn’t know how to help you. It was him who was pathetic, still knowing nothing about the humans he was protecting silently from the shadows. He was pathetic because he denied getting close to them, fearing they’d make him weak.

And he had been right. You made him weak. Weak in the knees, weak in his head. Gone was his keen mind and tough body. Now there was only the invested, curious, worrying Xiao. Xiao at his worst, and he hated himself for it. Seeing you hurt and in pain made him want to be strong even more. So he could protect you when you would call his name. But he wasn’t sure if you would after he already let you down.

Xiao knew everything about the lands around you. He knew where the closest doctor was, and he’d get you to them and then… then what?

Gnawing at his lip as he waited for you to get better, he stood there in silence, clothed in the darkness of the room you were offered to rest that night. There had to be something he could do. Something only he could do for you. He didn’t have the leisure of traveling like you, and he wasn’t a human that could join you easily either. But he was strong if you didn’t warp his head into the miserable state he found himself around you. He could protect you, but how would he do it?

There needed to be a plan soon. The sun was rising, the day promising to be beautiful for travels. And you would want to go. Because as wondrous and loveable as you were, you were also stubborn and weak. Duty-bound, like him. But both of you couldn’t share this trait, not when he wanted to keep you from danger instead of making you rush headfirst into it. One of you had to compromise, and as the sun was setting, Xiao realized something else.

If he was strong, and you were not. He, an important Adeptus, and you, another human between so many, then you needed to be put back into your place. A place of safety. Somewhere close to him. It was a stretch to assume other Adepti would help him, but they could create realms. Safe realms he could carry with him. Even if he didn’t know how to wager with them, much less address the issue, he knew they played a vital part in the role of keeping you safe. He was almost jealous.

Xiao looked back at you sleeping soundly, your chest falling and rising under the blanket. Bandages were all over your body. The doctor made sure you knew the risk you had taken, traveling alone and vulnerable and enduring injuries you should have gotten checked up. You were careless and ignorant to the dangers of the world, even though, deep inside you, Xiao imagined you were just as scared as anyone else. It would be nice, right? If he could take this fear from you. Keep you safe and sound and with him at all times. He’d do you a favor.

A future without worries and fear, the dream of so many of your kind.

Stepping up to your bedside, he reached out to your forehead, remaining still as you furrowed your brows when you noticed his warmth, but then you relaxed again. Maybe you knew it was him. Maybe, deep down in your dreams, it was him who made you feel safe right now. Xiao wished he was. Still, he disappointed you, but he wouldn’t do it again. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t have to be in pain and scared anymore. For you, and only you, he’d do it.

Letting his hand slip down your face, his fingertips brushed over your cheek and to your lips, his touch lingering a second too long to be appropriate. Flinching away, he scolded himself for touching you there, pink flushing his cheeks as he shook his head. He was busy; there were preparations to be made.

Leaving behind Mora, he had no use for, and a note to the doctor, he told them to keep you as long as they could. Knowing where you were would make his life easier, even though he wouldn’t leave a stone unturned and a monster alive if he had to search for you. There were no lengths he wouldn’t have taken for you. The thought scared him because he didn’t know how to handle this feeling that burned inside of him at the mere thought of you. But it scared him even more to see you like last night, and he wasn’t sure his heart could take it if it happened again.

No, he couldn’t let it happen again.

How long had it been since someone called his name? One night. The next time you’d call for him, how would it sound? Sweet? Affectionate? Thankful? Praising him for his work and dedication for you, accepting his snide remarks, and laughing at him again with that kind voice of yours? He couldn’t know it yet. But with a jump in his step, he would have never thought it could be the complete opposite.

Angry. Scared. Horrified.

[yanderenightmare]

Hello, I have been looking at your content and I must say that I really like the way you write and I hope you are doing well.I don't know if your applications are open now but I want to give you an idea, how would the yanders react if their beloved has depressive periods and low self-esteem?It may be a bit of an anguish at first but I would like how they would react, use it on purpose or go soft on their beloved.

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: depression, self-harm, abuse, manipulation, abuse, profanity, amnesia, anxiety, panic-attacks, arson, bipolar disorder, blood, death threats, eating disorder, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, mental illness, mind control, paranoia, noncon, dubcon, starvation, suicidal ideation, trauma

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

MELANCHOLIA –

She’s always biting her tongue, the inside of her cheek, her lip. So much so, he doesn’t even know what her lip normally looks like without it being bloated and swollen and red from having her teeth sink into to it. He’s okay with her chosen silence as long as she answers when she’s spoken to, which she does, lacking the will to refuse, knowing it will only cost her valuable energy, energy she needs in case Bakugo decides he wants to rip the breath from her lungs while he hunches over her, his hips snapping into her again and again, ramming at a pace so rough she both dreads it and welcomes it, for on the one hand it’s exhausting and she always wakes up with aches in the morning, yet on the other hand he makes her appreciate breathing which is always a nice reminder when she often times wonders what tranquility would be found in not breathing whatsoever.

He doesn’t want to confront her about it, sensing how she might not enjoy confrontation all that much, and not really wanting the whole ordeal to result in making her cry at the mere sound of his voice. He won’t alter the volume or the roughness of his tone, no matter how many times she cringes at how loud he’s being, but he does try being gentle, at least with his criticism. He showers her in compliments, which is a huge contrast to how he would usually handle fixing things. But, he finds using softer methods benefit him as well, loving the blush that adorns her face each time he does so, his own confidence probably boosting more so than hers.

He does nice things, not really knowing what or which way to help. He doesn’t make her do any chores, ignoring the nagging feeling that keeping her busy would probably help more so than having her sit and look cute all day, but… he’s afraid of admitting it, but… he quite likes taking care of her. He quite likes hugging her throughout the night, feeling her small tremoring sobs against him while stroking her back. He likes comforting her on those same nights where she wakes abruptly from some nightmare, stroking glossy diamond tears away from her cheeks, loving her bloated lips and that cute red wet irritation flushed on her nose and cheeks.

The only times he gets upset with her is when she refuses to eat. He tries so hard to make things she might like, but it’s scarce he sees her taking more than a few bites, if she makes a move to eat at all. He doesn’t want to make her cry, despite it being a constant hobby of hers, he doesn’t want to be the reason to her crying, but… he can’t have her starving. He finds the fear-tactic surprisingly effective on someone who spends most their time fantasizing about death. A few sparks in his palms has her all but quaking, scared half-way into catatonia or even comatose, so much so he has to pull her into his lap and spoon-feed her. Not that he minds that either, he comes to enjoy it quite a lot actually. How her small frame melts so perfectly against his chest, legs swung over his lap, head on his shoulder, remnants of her fear-stricken cries still evident as small spontaneous jolts run through her, being slowly comforted away with the same hand that caused the trouble in the first place.

DABI - TODORKI TOUYA

ANXIETY –

He couldn’t be happier with his little ball of blue wrapped up in soft-tinted crushed dreams with a heart made of honeycombs and dandelion-fluff. Whereas his misfortunate lack of happiness stems from a place of violence, where violence breeds violence, she’s nothing but a tender trauma. Such a soft despair, such a sweet despair, such perfection found in something so devastating. It’s artwork really. How she can cry herself to sleep, trapped in his arms, feeling as though she’s dying, yet wake up the next morning all velvety and soft in his arms, her heart finding comfort in what her mind rejects, what her mind fears.

He tries being a source of comfort for the most part, but teasing and haunting and poking fun at her is such a delicious past-time he cannot simply just refrain from. He’ll be a real villain about it at times. Having her as a complete blubbering pathetic hiccupping mess, poking fun at her crybaby-face as he licks the tears from her cheeks and gorges himself in her panic, his fingers dancing small patterns on her stomach as she wiggles beneath him.

She used to be so scared of him. So skittish and paralyzed, cold-sweating and eyes constantly leaking he had to imagine what her eyes would look like without being rimmed with red. She used to shiver and shake and quake and reel in on  herself, curl up until her limbs ached from how small she was trying to make herself become, backed up into the corner beneath his shadow, his leather-boots looking like the onset of everything horrific as she coward in front of them. But wild untrusting childlike beings such as her is quick in nature to tether themselves to the first or only source of light. And though the transition was slow, her anxiety soon shifted from being directed at him and soon for him instead.

It was too easy, and it benefitted him so undeservingly as well it was cruel. How he simply took all those fears of hers, all those fears for everything residing in the new foreign room she’d been taken captive in, manipulating them into becoming paranoia for everything found outside the bedroom door instead. He went from being the source of her dread, of her panic, of her misery, of her pitter-patter heart and shattering teeth to her savior. Soothing her in her frenzied quakes as she spluttered on sobs containing what hellish monsters and dangers found outside, begging him to be careful, to come back to her, to stay.

She will hug him close throughout the night, hanging almost like a noose around his neck when he needs to leave in the mornings, tracing his scars with a stream of endless worried thoughts blubbering in her groggy voice. And he’ll humor her worry and tame the oncoming panic-attacks by giving her a little light-show of blue flames in his palm, words of his own coming to assure her how nothing will ever happen to him and how he will never let anything ever happen to her, assuring however many times he has the time for.

She’s too cute it’s unfair. Unfair that small creatures like her exist without anything to protect them from hungry wolves like him. And though he was never the type to fantasize about clingy things, he has to admit… coming home to someone who lunches at him in the most secure yet clumsy and desperate embrace, he feels as though that feeling of coming home is all he’ll ever need in the world, that she’s all he’ll ever need.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

INSOMNIA –

It’s nice. He knows it shouldn’t be the word he describes it with, but… that’s what it is. It’s nice. It’s nice to stay up with someone who expels the same type of energy as him, and not to mention the same amount of energy as him, or… lack of thereof. It’s nice living off of fumes together. It’s nice slipping to and from consciousness and how it almost turns into a game of who can survive the longest before collapsing, with the other shortly following, too tired to even bask in their victory.

It’s nice irritating over the same sharp sounds that attack their sensitive ears, not at all like the familiar sound of soft clicks of the controller in their hands. It’s nice communicating almost purely through mellow moans and groans and croaks, always understanding what the other is emitting despite it being but shapeless sounds.

It’s nice finding agreement in how the lights should always stay off, how it’s turned into some religious rule never meant to be crossed. It’s nice annoying over the same crisp bright light of the sun that violate their eyes those times they forget to shut the blinds before passing out after having counted stars and eating in the dead silence of night like nocturnal beings ignoring the light of day as though it were the plague. It’s nice how they can both find comfort in the glow of the moonlight or computer screen, leaching off of the energy like flies.

He’s found kinship in her presence, and despite it merely being himself and her in the darkness of his room, with flying specs of dust decorating the air and their computers the only windows to the world beyond their four walls, he feels as though the whole universe is looking at him when the softness of her glinting, beaming, sparkling eyes set their gaze and lock with his. It’s strange, but he always found angel-bright smiles and supersonic eyes to be too intrusive and annoying and scary to stand before, whereas her sunken dark eyes, ringed with shades of lilac contrasting her otherwise pale porcelain skin, kept almost albino in the darkness of his room… she couldn’t be more perfect.

Come to think of it, it’s perfection. Her in all her sleep-deprived glory, all her drowsy silliness, her sloppy harsh movements, tripping and stumbling with her droopy-eyes, in her soft giggling fits, where she’ll catch her stupidity just a moment too late and roll around on the bed, trying to shrug off Tomura’s teasing judgement as he pokes fun at her idiocy. Giving up on forming complete sentences as she almost always ends up toppling over her own words, settling for whining or sighing as she turns her head to bury it in his chest.

Utter perfection. Never bothering to get dressed, walking about like a little tease in only underwear and Tomura’s ill-fitted hoodie, hair pulled up into a messy-bun too messy, always defeating the purpose of keeping her hair from out of her face. Her unstable movements, disconnected to the ground as though she’s floating. Too grabbable and easily defeated in her weariness when being pulled into his lap, simply humming and moaning in response as he plants soft kisses down her neck, his fingers coming to destroy whatever’s in the way of him and her body.

HITOSHI SHINSO

HYPERSOMNIA –

She sleeps so soundly, like a little couch-kitten. All soft and cute, playing in her dreams. She’ll sleep whole entire days, only opening her eyes in small flutters every now and again and moaning ever so softly once he wakes her, though quickly scrunching her nose and twisting to fall asleep again. Her drowsiness rendering her pride invalid, causing her to pull at him to better comfort herself against his body, whining when he shifts, his warm presence leaving the bed when he needs to go to work. Her little unconscious protest making his heart twist in his chest, tempted to stay in bed with her all day long, yet comforting himself with the fact that he’ll probably come home to find her in the exact same position.

She’s so cute. She’ll curl and stretch, resting anywhere she finds comfortable: in bed, in the sofa, in the armchair, on his chest, his shoulder, his lap. Adorable with her little snores, all knotted up, remnants of her dreams spilling out from her sleep and coming to life in her limbs as she kicks and shakes her head, delving further into the pillow and twisting intricately in about the blanket. Eyelashes fluttering, eyes skittering beneath her puffy eyelids, caught up in whatever hurricane her mind has conjured up.

She seemed unfazed once she woke up in his room for the first time, and even then, she only gave him enough time to explain himself before nodding with heavy eyelids, laying her drowsy head back on the pillow. The situation dawning on her gradually over the first month, and if whether she was startled or angry, he couldn’t tell. If anything, sept for sleepy, he’d say she seemed confused, but alongside the confusion was the look that told him she couldn’t find the energy in herself to think too much about it without her fuzzy head hurting. Settling for eating breakfast with him in the mornings, and even thanking him on those occasion where she would forget the circumstances that led her to live there.

She doesn’t struggle when he pulls her limp body close to his own in the dead of night after he’s done for the day. He’s only mildly concerned, but it’s not his affection that shakes her from her sleep. He’s a selfish person, and he’s not one to hide those ugly aspects of himself. He’s selfish, greedy, controlling. He has to use his quirk on her sometimes… often times. Though she’s cute when she’s sleeping, he wants to do more than just watch her. He wants words, conversation, he wants to know what’s going on in that dark dreary head of hers, he wants to know what eerie things she’s been dreaming about, where she escapes to when her eyes slide close.

What more: he wants those eyes on him, those puffy, sleepy beautiful doe-eyes. He wants her to pay attention as he touches her skin and not simply to moan in response to it, he wants her to hang onto every single moment his skin touches hers. Telling her to focus reaches a long way. Those otherwise sleepy doe-eyes widening in such moon-bright curiosity, slaving at the hands of his quirk. Her otherwise limp and soft body shaking under his overwhelming touch, goosebumps springing to the surface under his tongue, a wicked glint evident in his lilac eyes.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

BIPOLAR –

She’s fragile on most days. Whether that fragility is in the shape of a daisy or a bomb is impossible to say until she either falls apart or blows up. It’s all rather uncertain, sporadic, spontaneous, where he’s given only a few signs where which he can predict what state of mind she’s in and how stable that structure is.

Most things depend on sleep, and upholding a balanced sleep-pattern has become one of the most important things in Keigo’s life after having taken his little darling. But, she manages to slip past his schedules more times than he would like to admit. When she refuses to go to sleep, his mind drifts to all the fun things they can do if they weren’t sleeping, and when she’s sound asleep and drowsing far beyond what time she should have woken up, he can’t find it in himself to wake her, not when he is the reason as to why she was so spent and sore and exhausted from the events and methods he used to make her fall asleep in the first place.

On little sleep one of two things can happen. She can either have the energy of a hummingbird or be tired to the point she almost looks sickly. On her lack-of-sleep-high she’s confident, cocky more so than Keigo, where she’ll test her luck on how far Keigo’s willing to bend his rules when she misbehaves, calling him all types of names, laughing in his face when he snaps and cackling even harder even madder when he decides to punish her, as though it’s all a game to quench her boredom.

With the absence of sleep causing her exhaustion she becomes irritated, seething with boiling rage, red in annoyance, whatever energy she has left focused on making her discomfort known as she scowls at him each time he smiles too loudly, but being too drained to physically act on her frustration or to even make up a snide comment without evoking a headache, left to simply snarl. He thinks it’s cute, where he knows well enough that if he pushes her limits too far she might just break. Break, and therefore let him gather her up into his arms and hush and tut at her to stop crying while he strokes her back, feeling her tremble with unparalleled frustration weighing down on her shoulders.

Then there are the days she sleeps too much. The same options are present here too. She’s either too energetic or too well rested. Either black or white. No grey. But with too much sleep she isn’t ever hostile, but still wild. Wild and enthusiastic and self-destructive and prop-full of ideas and insane in her passion. She’ll be unable to focus on anything, she’ll forget things seconds after they’ve been said or done, but… she’ll laugh and she’ll smile, and it won’t be one of those haughty nasty smiles she gives him when she’s feeling spiteful, but genuine in its playfulness or even bliss.

Then on other days sleeping half the day only results in her being even more drowsed out, yet accompanying her exhaustion isn’t irritation, but soft-tinted melancholia, where all she does is stay wrapped up in her blanket, quiet and still, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as she focusses on how hollow her chest is, as though caving in on itself, where she’ll fall all limp and snuggly in Keigo’s embrace, humming appreciatively as he wraps her up in his wings. All the while a treacherous smile of satisfaction on his face.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

DESPOND –

When Izuku chose his darling it was done without compromise, without fault, it was done with perfection. Meaning, he fell for all of her, invested in all of her, determined to preserve all of her. Even her inexplainable unfounded absurd plethora of self-doubt that make her delirious and hopeless with anxiety and guilt. He let himself fall hungrily in love with her little terror-wide heart. He fell viciously in love with how desperate in need of him to come help ground her she was.

It was as though she’s made for him, he would argue. It was as though he’s made for her. Some breeds of people are just too vulnerable to take proper care of themselves. Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves. Whereas others are made to help, other people need to help.

Emotions are abstract fundamental tools meant to be used. Lesser minds might look down on his methods, yet Izuku came to understand quite early in life that things such as morals are chains meant to keep you from achieving your goal. He has no quarrels with using and abusing those tools presented to him, where her irrational feelings of doubt, hopelessness and worthlessness are a delicious opportunity to achieve his goal. Besides, her emotions are too easily abused and give such great unshakable responses, and even though he doesn’t want to tamper too much with her instability… they’re just too in-reach for him to ignore, too tempting for him to stay away.

The feeling of responsibility sits like an extra organ inside him, where his toes curl each time he sees her large doe-eyes look at him as though he were the sun, as though her whole life revolves around him. She’s just so dependent on him, so in need of his guidance and advise and praise, where he’s afraid she might just drown in her own guilt if she senses she’s displeased him. She makes sure she wears what he likes, has her hair the way he likes, letting him play with her like putty in his hands if he asks it of her. How can he be expected to not exploit what is so clearly offered?

Besides, he spoils her as well. He returns the favor so to speak, even though he knows she has given herself no choice but to worship him in her mindset of inadequacy. She’s so sweet he nearly feels undeserving, because she’ll blush so preciously when he compliments her, bashful and adorable and too good to be true, he wonders how such a creature can ever feel like less. He adores her, yet that doesn’t stop him from finding such satisfying bliss in the fact that he’s infinitely stronger and faster and not to mention smarter. Whereas she’s gullible and too eager to please, another attributing factor as to why he loves her, despite it is also being the cause of her demise, or maybe even because of it

The truth is she’s lucky that she belongs to him. Lucky that he won’t ever let anything happen to her, no matter if she’s the source of her own harm. She’s lucky to have him to anchor herself to as so to avoid floating away in her hopelessness. This is safer for her. Despite him sticking his bloodstained inky fingers and twisting her heart in his deadlock of a fist, she’s safe, safer than she could or would ever be on her own.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

AMNESIA –

It’s cute. He won’t deny that it’s cute, because it is. It’s adorable and unbelievable and annoying all the same. She’ll forget the rules, she’ll wander too far from her confines, not greeting him at the door, not kissing him on que, leave questions unanswered despite him having told her to always answer him when she’s spoken to, all things he feels he’s made blatantly clear through threats and countless reminders. But, not only will she forget his rules, but basic living necessities, she’ll forget to eat and drink, forget to get dressed, forget where she is.

She’ll say the strangest things sometimes. Mild and mellow passionate thoughts regarding the clouds and stars and moon and gods and how pretty his snake-eyes are, like great big lakes of molten gold. It’s strange but he finds such great comfort in her little philosophical blubbering, her soft voice kissing his ears like gospel. It’s a tender type of relief or resolution found in listening to nonsense as opposed to the serious matters he has to deal with in his position in the underworld, her view of the world somehow painting everything, even the ugly and the dangerous, in beauty.

Sometimes she’ll drift a bit too far away though. She’ll daydream more than sleep, absentminded when he’s speaking to her, unable to focus on him or anything for more than a few minutes at best. All dizzy and fuzzy, as though she’s just woken from some dream or as if she’s always dreaming. Irritation festers in his chest when she doesn’t answer, but as she turns her head, expression all soft and oblivious, his chest caving in at the sight of those doe-eyes, all anger simmering into nothing, rendering his annoyance nonexistent, replaced by a sense of hopeless forgiveness and somehow appreciation.

When it comes to her for once actually remembering what she’s supposed to do she’ll weigh each task as though one wrong decision would cost her life. Greeting him at the door in nothing but underwear, already having failed at picking out an outfit and resorting to wearing the lingerie Kai picked and laid out for her on the bed in the morning. The simple task suddenly becoming a battle where she’ll spend much too much time deciding whether to take his jacket first or give him a kiss or welcome him home. Too many decisions with too faulty statistics and unsure outcomes she ends up merely standing there doing nothing but hold her head in her hands and whimper slightly at all the noise that suddenly crowded her head, tears already threatening to fall as she stands before him, all guilt-ridden and trembling.

He can be patient as long as he knows she isn’t disobeying him on purpose, especially when he sees how guilty and how terribly sorry she is each time she fails on acting out simple tasks such as those he gives her. She’ll cry and apologize for the mere act of breathing on some days where she’s extra fragile, where she seeks nothing but his praise, his comfort, his hand stroking through her hair as she sleeps restlessly in her sobs on his chest, unaware of the mild smile of satisfaction and endearment displayed on his face.

TODOROKI SHOTO

SELF-CONSCIOUS -

She’s always hiding. Like a little mouse, she’s always squeaking and squealing and hiding. Hiding her face, burying it in the pillow when he compliments her gorgeous eyes, begging him to stop, small timid hands pushing ever so slightly at him. Hiding her chest, her nipples, when he admires them, his hands playing with the soft and supple flesh, whimpering as she tries to twist away. Her knees trying their best to wrench shut, to hide and protect what sensitivity find between them from Shoto’s hungry fingers and tongue.

She’s always hiding… but he likes to hunt anyway. If she drapes herself in pitch-black hoodies he’ll gladly rip them off, or scorch them off and expose her delicious artful body. If she refuses to leave the bed he’ll gladly attack her where she’s sleeping. She’s always hiding, but she quickly comes to understand that there will be no hiding from him.

He doesn’t understand why she would ever want to hide divinity, and therefor doesn’t respect the wish. Having made it his mission to expose every little piece of her, licking up long lines of bumpy purple and white scars, sucking and biting at those pointy cherry nipples strutting at the coolness of his breath, kissing those plump lips of hers despite her cringing to cover herself up in thousand layers of clothes, dark clothes, where only the very least of her skin is remaining on display. He won’t have it.

He has to tie her up on most occasions where she’s too difficult and shy to listen and let him play with her beauty. He’ll have to tie her up like a starfish on the bed, limbs spread in each direction, scars running along them, quite like the ones he receives in battle, only precise and matching and purposeful, his hands coming to touch them in reverence, worshipping every little altercation she’s added to her skin, further pushing its ever-changing perfection, watching as she hopelessly struggles to hide herself, yet the both of them knowing how she’s fully his.

He can’t allow her hurting herself anymore though, not with the fear that she one day might slip up and kill herself just a little bit too much, but he’s happy to help her through the tools of fire and ice. Frostbite flowers look even more as though they belong on her body, as well as blotches of burns, his markings, his teeth. He’ll never forget the moan he received on his first indulgence branding her body with his elements, how she purred in gratitude, small blissful squeals and mewls following, further egging him on.

Once she grew more comfortable with his hands and his stare… or rather… once the need for his hands outgrew her discomfort, she became somewhat addicted. And now, she can be wild in her cravings on some days, demanding it of him, threatening him, fighting him. She’ll bite and claw, begging for him to retaliate, longing for him to push her into the bedsheets and teach her what it’s like to feel alive by teasing her with the promise of death.

Without him she’s left to pick at scabs, counting the seconds until his return. She’ll pull at her hair until her scalp is screaming. She’ll ball her fists, creating those blood-red crescent moons in her palms, biting her nails until they bleed and then some. Then bask in relief upon his return.

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[pricescigar]

The Werewolf

(Pt. 3)

"So that's it then? His last location?" Elvira looked at Woods raising an eyebrow, she then looked back to the map observing it. After all of this time he was right under her nose, hiding within the shadows… Well that's what he's always been good at anyways, hiding from the hunters. Especially from such a Hunter like herself, the legendary ones. The ones who were more experienced in the field, Stitch was more difficult to find than Perseus combined. Most legendary hunters were hard to actually kill due to their experience as ones or whatever powerful weapon they carry.

Silver bullets were a Werewolves weakness, many hunters would take the easy option to use a pistol with the silver bullets to quickly kill them off. Other Hunters would make other ends meet by making the Werewolves slowly duffer painfully, before death would finally take them.

"Yeah, and I still think he hangs about there occasionally, which is why we need to set a trap there." Woods suggested to Elvira as he crossed his arms before looking at her. "Along with all your traps that you have too, we should also dot them around the Warehouse. When the time comes, he strikes and take him down." He was confident that the plan would work. 

"Ok, I like that idea… It seems good, just don't do anything that'll put your life at risk. Alright? That's my job too." Elvira looked at Woods seriously, to which he chuckled a little at her remark.

"Don't you worry about me, I'll be careful I promise." Woods reassured her, they spent the rest of the evening going over the plans they needed. And if need be, they created a diversion plan if things went south, and if Stitch would call his reinforcements.

After planning Woods went out hunting and brought back food, rabbit. While Elvira gladly cooked for them and turned it into Rabbit stew, boring and basic however it didn't take long to cook it either. Woods absolutely loved what she cooked for him, one of the best stews he had in a long time. Elvira gladly accepted the compliment, she only knew so little about cooking. And whatever she remembers of her mother's recipes, which is one of the things she can remember her mother by. Cooking the food she had always cooked for her and for her father before she sadly passed away.

The next day arrived, Woods and Elvira left in the late evening to go to the last known location where Stitch raided. The journey was an hour long but it was alright, Elvira made sure she got plenty of rest for the night ahead. Even when she was doing her job as a Hunter, night shifts never bothered her in the lightest. Even better she worked more efficiently at night, however in the morning patrols. Nothing drastic ever happens, which is why she made sure she'd only do the Night patrols and nothing else.

"Hey, we're getting close to our location. Make sure you get your traps ready, and quickly place them around the designated places ok?" Woods spoke softly to her.

"Don't worry I'll work quickly." Elvira nodded to his words, upon arrival she went on ahead immediately placing all the traps down. Making sure all of them were set up, she found the entrance of the Warehouse. It clearly gave the impression to make it look like it was abandoned, judging by how there was barely any furniture and making it look all run down for a reason. 

Woods stayed outside letting Elvira do her thing as he patrolled outside, in the distance he heard a twig snapping. He was already and quickly looked over to where he heard the twig snap, remaining in his spot. Woods knew someone was there, staying silent momentarily that's when he finally spoke.

"Alright, come out there. I can sense you, don't be a coward now. Give me an excuse as to why you're here, before I rip your head off." Woods growled.

Meanwhile Elvira was still in the warehouse, she finished setting up the traps and explored around a little longer before she would walk out. She knew that Woods could fend for himself, so she made sure she wouldn't worry so much about him. She found some paperwork and took it, using the torch to read it. Since there was barely any light in the room that she was currently in.

"Nova 6…? Stitch is reproducing Nova 6?!" Elvira was in disbelief, she tried to keep her voice down. Taking all of the paperwork she could, and putting it into her bag. Making sure the paper wouldn't get creased, opening the door and she made a run for it to get out of the Warehouse.

Suddenly Stitch appeared in front of Elvira and grabbed her. "Where do you think you're going little mouse? I finally got you, Elvira Wolff." He questioned her, the tone of his voice sounded dangerous, he quickly knocked Elvira out before she could do anything. Leaving her on the ground. He then walked away to find Woods in the meantime, while Elvira was knocked out.

As Woods was waiting patiently for Elvira, and also trying to find out who was in the forest watching them. He sensed that Elvira was in danger and he became worried. "Fuck, fuck… This can't be happening." He mumbled to himself, going over to the Warehouse. This place was a goddamn maze! He had to be careful of the traps, but seeing that all of them had been disarmed… Can only mean one thing. 

Elvira slowly woke up and groaned softly, holding her head a little. When her vision became clear, she saw Stitch staring down at her.

"You're finally awake little Hunter." Stitch simply said, his arms were crossed as he watched her.

"Let me go." Elvira put it plain and simple, she kept her eyes on him. This made Stitch laugh.

"Nyet, I'm not going to let you go. Why would I ever do that?" Stitch questioned her, he stepped towards her. He loved playing with his prey. "But, you can do one thing… If I let you go, then you stop hunting us. Simple isn't it? Do we have a deal?"

"Hm… Nein I don't think we do have a deal, I'll stalk you to the ends of the earth. I'll die while doing so." Elvira stared at him, in an instant Stitch placed his hands on her neck as he began to strangle her. She gasped for breath and placed her hands on his arms, trying to pull them away.

"You're just like your father." Stitch mumbled and kept his hands firmly on Elvira's neck, he loved watching her struggle. She was at her weakest.

"Fuck you!" Elvira managed to say and kicked him in the stomach a few times, to try and get him off of her. But nothing was working.

"That doesn't hurt me, but nice try." Stitch chuckled, no matter what she did. It didn't hurt him in the slightest, he watched her lose her strength.

"Killing me… Would be a waste…" Elvira saw her vision slowly going back, losing her will to breathe. Her strength was giving out.

Woods found Elvira's scent in a room, he suddenly opened the door which caught Stitch off guard. And had tackled him down to the ground. 

Elvira gasped for breath, the moment Stitch's hands were taken away from her neck. Coughing and trying to catch her breath, she was breathing heavily taking all the oxygen in.

"Don't touch her like that again, otherwise you're a dead man." Woods growled at Stitch.

"You're a disgrace to the Werewolves, helping a hunter like that. You traitor." Stitch snarled at him.

"You don't deserve to live, you were only brought here in this world to only cause evil." Woods argued back, as a result Stitch punched him in the face. And the two fought. 

Elvira heard the commotion that was happening, she needed to act quickly. Finally composing herself, and able to breathe normally. She grabbed her pistol that was in her jacket pocket, she stood up and aimed it over to Stitch. Shooting him in the back. 

Stitch groaned in pain, feeling the bullet in his back. He went on one knee for a moment before turning to Elvira, easily grabbing her and throwing her against the wall. Under anger Stitch transformed into his form, Woods was taken back and was immediately tackled onto the ground.

Elvira winced in pain and kept hold of her Pistol, aiming again near Stitch, shooting him once again in the stomach. Watching him fall down, the pain was getting too much. He quickly left the scene, the blood leaving a trail as a result.

Woods had a lot of scratches on him, most on his arm and chest and a few on his face. As a result of that he was losing a lot of blood, watching Elvira approach over to him and trying to put pressure on the wounds.

"You need to escape Elvira, get out of here.. Please.." Woods begged Elvira, if he died here and if Elvira survived and got the additional information she needed to find Perseus… Then that was good enough.

"I'm not abandoning you, you saved my life. And now I'm going ro save yours, you made this deal with me… Stick to it." Elvira implied, seeing that Woods barely had any strength left. Firstly she made sure his arm and chest were cleaned from the scratches and bandaged. 

Woods tried to stand up and to also stay awake, he leant against Elvira. And Elvira used her strength to take him back to the Castle. It took them longer than expected, but they finally got back. She took him to his bedroom, finally laying him down on his bed properly sighing with relief.

"Please stay… I beg of you…" Woods managed to say, Elvira made sure his head was rested upon the pillow properly. She injected him with morphine to cope with the pain.

"I will stay, don't worry, I won't go anywhere. Not when you're in that state." Elvira reassured Woods and placed a blanket over him.

"Stitch is too dangerous… They'll look for us…" Woods whispered as he tried to stay awake, he looked towards Elvira.

"I'll protect you, don't worry. We hunters carry silver bullets for a reason you know." Elvira said to him softly.

"I have the plans and ingredients to make a weapon but… I need your help, you have to finish it off for me." Woods said.

"Of course I will do anything for you. Where are the plans?" Elvira asked, she stood up from her seat. 

"Where the planning room is… there's a drawer, and there you have the ingredients to make it…" Woods was half asleep when he explained it. "There's a greenhouse… For the flowers." He then fell asleep.

Elvira nodded watching gom fall asleep, and quickly went over to the planning room. Going into every drawer she saw and quickly found the papers that she needed. It had the ingredients, along with the picture of the specific flower that was located in the greenhouse. 

"Fuck me…" Elvira saw all the different variants of flowers and looked back to the picture, it had the drawing and what colour the flower was. She had to be careful, and to also make sure she'd get this right.

Meanwhile Stitch had returned back to the main safehouse and Perseus was there, seeing that Stitch was brutally injured. He knew something had happened to him for him to be in a bad state like that.

"What happened back there? Who found you this time?" Perseus questioned him, he ordered his men to come and help Stitch. Which they did and began to mend his wounds.

"The hunter, Elvira Wolff and Frank Woods… Both of them found me…" Stitch explained letting the soldier heal his wounds.

"Wolff's daughter… I see, we'll get revenge don't worry. We have plans for her. For now, I want you to rest. I'll send the others, and to pick up where you left off." Perseus said, Stitch nodded in agreement. 

Elvira had finally made the potion and had a small nap since her back started to hurt. She stayed in Woods' room to keep an eye on him. 

Woods suddenly woke up, he felt that something was wrong. He sat up a little but his strength gave out and his head was back on the pillow.

Elvira heard him shuffle and move, which made her wake up constantly looking at him. "Oh you're awake… How are you feeling?" She asked him.

"I'm fine… But get ready… I feel that they're coming back, do you have the potion ready?" Woods asked her and she nodded in agreement. 

"I do, I got my sniper rifle too. But you need to stay in bed, you're still injured for God's sake…" Elvira mumbled and grabbed her sniper rifle getting the poison ready too.

"I need to help you, I don't want them to hurt you…" Woods grumbled a little at least trying to get himself out of bed, which clearly wasn't working out so well. It took him a moment but he finally got out of bed. 

"Alright… But I'll keep a close eye on you…" Elvira became worried for Woods; She sighed softly, she left his bedroom and went to the roof of the Castle. In the distance, she already saw Perseus men approaching. "Scheisse…" She softly muttered. 

Naga and Jackal passed through the Castle Courtyard and they began to look around, Elvira positioned her sniper and aimed it over to Naga waiting for the right time. She then pulled the trigger and it struck his shoulder, despite that they continued on.

"Those bastards?!" Elvira cursed and she moved away from her position and going back inside of the Castle, she knew that Woods was waiting for them. She needed to stop them quickly! 

Woods was fighting both of the men, even if he was injured he still put up a pretty good fight. Elvira aimed her sniper again and shot Naga in the stomach, as she did that Jackal tackled her and knocked her out.

Naga got the upper hand against Woods and knocked him out with his fist and sighed. "This was a lot of work…" He shook his head and groaned in pain a little due to the pain.

"We need to take them back to Perseus quickly, before one of them wakes up." Jackal suggested, Naga carried Elvira and Jackal carried Woods as they left.

It didn't take long for Elvira to soon wake up again as she began to become annoyed. "I'm getting real sick and tired of being knocked out all the damn time." She shouted. 

Jackal used the chance to torture Woods since she was awake, Naga made sure she wouldn't escape from his grasp.

"Look at this Naga, I found poison… It's Deadly for us." Jackal showed Naga it was in a syringe before he injected Woods with it, as a result Woods groaned in pain. 

"Nein, don't hurt him!" Elvira shouted, Naga kept hold of her, so she wouldn't escape for him.

"You'll watch him die unless you tell us what you were trying to do, right after you hurt Stitch." Naga demanded, Elvira then looked at him.

"I won't say anything until you stop hurting Woods! That's my final answer!" Elvira shouted at Naga, the anger was boiling up inside of her.

Elvira couldn't bare to see Woods in any more pain, and seeing Jackal was about to inject Woods with a second dose she stopped them. "Alright! Alright! I'm here to stop Perseus…" She sighed softly.

"Good, you'll be able to tell him." Naga finally let her go, and Elvira was on her knees staying by Woods who was in pain. She kept his head on her knees.

Seeing Perseus arrived, Elvira only felt hatred and she made sure all of them knew it. She glared at Perseus. "When I see you again… I'll kill you for real."

"You have the chance to do it now but look at you, you prefer to take care of your miserable friend…" Perseus walked towards Elvira, he had his hands behind his back.

"Because he saved my life! Now piss off, it's your fault that my vater died in the first place." Elvira tried not to cry, she refrained herself from doing so.

"If he had not been killed he'd be with us right now wouldn't he?" Perseus raised an eyebrow, but it didn't matter to him.

"And to make up for the fact that he got killed… You'll take his place." Jackal said.

"Hah. Over my dead body. I'd never join you… Not in a million years. Elvira glared at the men, she reached over to grab her weapon.

"Oh you don't know that Elvira Wolff, one day we'll come back… And we will come back to get you." Naga warned.

"They learnt their lesson. Leave them, let's go." Perseus then walked away, Naga and Jackal nodded before they followed him.

Woods was coughing up blood and he chuckled a little. She did it. "You found the right poison, fuck it hurts…" His voice was hoarse and weak.

Elvira got the Serum from her pocket and she injected him, she created a Serum just in case anything like this happened to him. "It'll get rid of the poison. I knew this would've happened, I'll treat you." She reassured him, letting him up again and took him back to his bedroom.

Woods immediately collapsed into bed, and Elvira made sure he was comfortable enough, and made sure he was warm enough. And from there she began to treat his wounds for the duration of the night. 

[fawnandshadows]

After The Ceremony - Chapter 1

Hey Guys!

This is the first chapter of a mini Elriel fanfiction that I'm working on. You can also read it on AO3

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.

Words: 1,847

Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony has long since been over, but Elain couldn’t bring herself to go back to her room. No, Elain had too much restless energy to even attempt to fall asleep tonight, and instead of tossing and turning in her bed all night, she decided she may as well be useful and start to clean up. It took only ten minutes of laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, before silently walking downstairs to the ballroom. Nuala and Cerridwen offered to help her, and Elain knew that they wouldn’t have minded staying up all night to clean with her, but she really just wanted to be alone. So, the twins like everyone else went to bed, and Elain stayed in the ballroom of Feyre and Rhysand’s River House putting herself to use.

There was something about being alone in the middle of the night that just seemed right to Elain, when everyone else was sleeping, she didn’t have to worry about putting on a face for everyone to see. She didn’t have to plaster a smile on her face while her heart was cracking in her chest. It was a test of her resolve today, Elain thought, as she pretended, yet again, that everything was alright. It took everything in Elain, every ounce of will power and restraint, to not break down and cry in the middle of the ballroom as she saw a familiar rose necklace around somebody else's neck.

Elain wanted to cry, scream, and cry some more whenever she looked at Gwyn, or Azriel, or even Mor. Especially Mor, when Elain saw her dancing and smiling with Azriel. It just felt so wrong. It should be Elain wearing his necklace, and it should be Elain in his arms as they spun around the room completely oblivious to everyone else.

After seeing Gwyn wearing her necklace, Elain immediately turned to leave the room because all she wanted was to be alone with her feelings and not worry about someone seeing through her fake smile, but as soon as she turned she caught a glimpse of the sun and a shadow dancing across the floor.

Elain had never seen Mor and Azriel dance together, and she never wanted to, especially when watching them smile at each other ruined whatever was left of her heart. They looked so incredibly beautiful together, and Azriel was smiling down at Mor with a warmth Elain hadn’t seen since the last solstice when she made him laugh. And Mor was smiling up at Azriel with an ease Elain had never noticed between them.

Confusion danced in her chest with every other emotion she was feeling.

Elain was only forced out of her staring from a heavy arm that fell across her shoulders. She blinked and a drunk Cassian appeared in front of her face, a stupid grin strectched across his face that was the result of unadulterated love and copious amounts of wine.

“Dance with me!” Cassian pulled her onto the dance floor, snapping her out of her imminent depression and into a crowded dance floor.

Elain let out a sign and continued sweeping the surprisingly messy floor. It seemed like most of the cake she and the twins had baked for the party ended up on the marble floor somehow, but she supposed that drunken fae couldn’t be expected to be tidy. The full moon illuminated most of the room, but there were still some faelights along the wall that added just enough light for her work. After sweeping, and picking up a surprising amount of glasses from the floor, Elain collected the bouquets from the tables.

It took her months to craft five bouquets for the ceremony, one for Nesta, and four for the women standing beside her. The core of Nesta’s bouquet were red carnations, pink roses, with bursting dahlias. Every bouquet held pink acacia’s - the flower of friendship. Feyre’s bouquet consisted of blooming magnolia’s and eye-catching violets. Her own was made from magnolias, nightshade, and a sprinkle of periwinkles. Emorie’s held vibrant hyacinths with white jasmine, and Gwyn’s bouquet was crafted from lavender, morning glories, oleanders. All the flowers were grown and cultivated by Elain herself, and she felt a shimmer of pride as she looked upon them.

Elain was getting ready to move the bouquets and their vases from the ballroom into the dining room, thinking they would look nice in a room where her family spends most of their time, when a familiar shiver floated down her spine. She didn’t look up as she said, “Hello, Azriel.” She knew he would reveal himself to her.

“It’s late. You should be sleeping.” His deep voice blended in with the night, causing her knees to weaken slightly and her eyelids to relax. What she wouldn’t give to fall asleep with that voice whispering in her ear while his fingers slid against her skin. What she wouldn’t give to stay awake all night with his voice in her ears and his fingers on her skin. Elain lost count of how many times she lost herself in thought as she tried to imagine what his lips would feel like against her throat.

“So should you,” Elain said, turning her body slightly to see him walk further into the room from where he leaned against the doorway. “I thought everyone was asleep. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

“Do you normally spend your nights cleaning up after drunken fae?” Azriel asked as he approached her. He stood maybe two feet away, but Elain could still feel the warmth radiating off his body. Another shiver made its way down her spine. Her skin felt so sensitive in his presence that it was hard to focus on anything besides him.

“Normally just Cassian,” Elain attempted to joke. Her chest felt slightly lighter as she noticed the twitch of his lips. It was a mistake looking at his lips. Her tongue brushed against her own that suddenly felt dry. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Azriel nodded. No words, no explanation, no attempt at conversation.

“You’re a lovely dancer.” Elain said, unable to stop herself, but she wanted him to know that she noticed him. She wanted him to know that she wished it was her in his arms dancing in front of everyone else.

“Thank you. You didn’t dance much at all.” Azriel noted and Elain felt the warmth of a blush on cheeks.

She gave a small shrug and said, “I was only asked by Cass, Rhys, and Lucien.”

Rhys was the first to offer her a dance, and she loved her brother-in-law too much to say no. Rhys was a lovely dancer, and she fought to keep a smile on her face under his prying eyes. Her dance with Cassian involved mostly her propping him up so that he didn’t collapse on the floor. Her dance was Lucien was non-existent.

“Why didn’t you dance with him?” Azriel asked softly. If it wasn’t the dead of night she wouldn’t have heard it.

“I don’t want to give him false hope,” Elain said, taking a fortifying breath before she continued, “It’s wretched to think you have a chance, a connection, to someone when you don’t.” She prayed to the Mother that Azriel didn’t notice her shaky breath, her racing heart, or how it took all of her bravery to say that.

In the soft glow of the faelights Elain saw a flinch run across Azriels face. It took him a moment longer than usual to school his features into their usual mask, but he couldn’t hide the pain that shimmered in his eyes.

The similarities weren’t lost on Elain. How this night resembled that of the solstice. Azriel and Elain being the only two people awake in the house. Her mate sleeping upstairs. The same crackling excitement rushing through her. The hope that maybe she would finally feel the brush of his lips against hers, and she wouldn’t have to speculate about what he tasted like anymore.

“Elain.” Azriel said her name as if it pained him.

“Why did you do it?” She whispered hotly. “Why did you give my necklace away? Why did you dance with Mor and look at her as if she were the only female in the room?” Before her bravery completely ran out she took a step forward, grabbed his hand, and placed it against her heart. “Did you feel this break tonight?”

His hand was hot against the thin cotton of her nightgown. She could just barely feel the traces of his scars. Elain wished there was nothing between them.

“Because it did,” Elain continued. “It broke every time I looked at you. It broke when I saw the necklace, and it broke when I saw how beautiful you and Mor looked.”

“Elain,” Azriel said, his voice harsh, his hand pressed further into her as if he too wished there was no nightgown separating them. “I want to, but I can’t.”

“I don’t understand,” Elain stared at his churning hazel eyes. She couldn’t help the lonesome tear that slid down her face. She was about to wipe it away when he beat her to it. His large, warm, wonderful hand brushed away her tear before cupping her cheek. Despite the pain that was growing in her chest, she would feel it all again if it meant his skin on hers. She would withstand any pain if it kept them together. “Make me understand.”

“I want to kiss you,” Azriel said. Elain felt each word as it brushed against her face. “I want to rip this nightgown from your body, lay you on the table, spread your legs open and feast until I’m drunk off the taste of you. I want to slide into you until I’m the only thing on your mind, and then I want to bring you so much pleasure you’ll never want to be away from me. And once you found your pleasure, I’d take you upstairs and do it all again. If I ever got a hold on myself I would make love to you the way you deserve.”

Elain, loving the warmth and wetness that flooded her core, felt as if she was about to combust. One tiny spark and she would erupt into flame.

“And why can’t we do that?” Elain asked quietly, as if she were afraid of ruining the moment. As if she were afraid he would slip away from her yet again.

“Rhy’s pulled rank on me.” Azriel replied. The only sign of tension was the muscle that contracted in his jaw. Elain ignored the urge to run her tongue over it.

“Huh?” Elains brain was too hazed with desire to form a proper sentence.

“He forbid it.” Azriel replied, tilting his head forward slightly, and brushing his nose against hers. The breath that floated across her face threatened to knock her over.

“Forbid what?” Elain managed to get out - too absorbed in him to think clearly.

“Us.”

Elain didn’t have time to think about what Azriel said as his lips descended on hers.

[nona-piccolo]

A Savior

Pairing(s): Reader x Beelzebub

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Warnings: attempted assault, some harsh language

The underworld, or what they liked to call the ‘Devildom’ was rarely silent. It seemed to be one of the busiest places you’ve ever had the opportunity to live in; the constant rush of demons walking by, sometimes in pairs and sometimes alone, the lights from demon-owned stores and restaurants, the loud talking of conversations. Not only did it feel natural, but it felt welcoming. It felt comfortable. 

It was a whole different story at night however. 

The demons that would walk by had their hoods up, they had their hands stuffed into their pockets that filled your mind with mystery on what they could be clutching in their hands.  And the conversations between them were more hushed. Almost nonexistent. The normally bright and lit city was now dimmed; it seemed almost… alarming. 

It was quiet now, and that was something you found unsettling.

You should have felt safe.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you felt alone and shaky. You had never seen the Devildom this way. The chill of the night time breeze making you feel completely naked, despite the layers of clothes you wore over your RAD uniform. Silently you thanked Asmodeus for boisterously wrapping you in a light pink scarf this morning. He insisted that its color would match your rosy cheeks. Unsurprisingly, Asmo’s perfume was still gripped to the scarf like a stain. Its light and warm fabric did wonders to keep you from completely panicking as you clutched to it for dear life.

The shadows of the large buildings cast imaginary images in your mind. They seemed to claw at the night sky, so that when you looked up, you could barely see the faint light of the stars. Each street lamp seemed dimmer and dimmer the further you walked, grappling you down a path of darkness. 

Suddenly, the scurrying of a small creature jumped from the shadows and onto the street, where it ran ballistically in circles before jolting down the road that you were the only one occupying. You had let out an audible screech at the intrusion of silence, feeling your heart race a pounding rate. 

“Goddamnit…” you muttered in a hushed tone, watching the little creature squeak back into the darkness. That thing almost gave you a heart attack. You couldn’t see a thing. You couldn’t hear a thing. Were you even going the right way? You thought the path home was simple and easy enough- you had the Devildom roads engraved into your memory from the months you’ve spent here. It was like looking at the back of your hand. So why were you hesitating now?

You walked around the corner, the tippy top of the RAD building was now officially out of your point of view. Maybe by some luck from God, you’d run into Solomon, who decided that this night would be one of the nights he was staying late from school to research more in the library too. Or maybe Simeon would appear from a late night stroll and wisk you back to the House of Lamentation. Maybe if you turned back now Diavolo would still be at the RAD building working on some wretched paperwork he always liked to complain about. Maybe out of the kindness of his heart, he’d walk you home. He’d make sure you’d be safe.

You lightly scoffed. Why the hell would the literal Prince of the Devildom take out the time of his night to help walk some human home?

No, you could do this. One step at a time, each step getting you closer to the building that you had got to call home, filled with the comfort of each brother. A small smile pulled on your face as you recalled the faces of the seven demons. Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Belphie… and Beel. The thought of them gave you a slight moment to breathe normally again. 

Had you been breathing so heavily this entire time?

No, you told yourself, it’ll be okay. You wanted them to know that you could handle yourself out here. That they didn’t have to constantly baby you. That the Devildom wasn’t as bad as it was portrayed in stories and books. Despite the warnings that Lucifer had given you about other demons when you first arrived here, spending time with such wonderful demons such as the brothers, may have brought your guard down. It may have accidentally caused you to see all demons in a good light.

And that naivety allowed for your mind to wander far enough as to not have heard the several footsteps that dragged close behind you.

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Mammon tapped a finger against the armchair, shifting his sitting position again for the fiftieth time in the last twenty minutes. He must have looked like a madman to the normal person, his head swivelling to the door and to then the hallway and then behind him again and again. He was waiting for something to happen; or to put it more frankly he was waiting for you. Any minute now you would bound through the front door with a big grin on your face, and then Mammon’s ass would be saved from getting into trouble. Lucifer wouldn’t find out that he let you walk home alone and then proceed to hang him from his feet off of the banister for the poor choices he’s made.

Or… that was what he kept telling himself.

Instantly, a shadow of shame fell across the white-haired demon’s face. He couldn’t believe he was more worried about getting into trouble than making sure your life wasn’t in danger. Was he really this selfish? This greedy?

During breakfast time he had pulled you off to the side, begging for you to take his place in searching for the required books on the next project he had due. Mammon had always hated scoping through a barrage of books at the library. It was nauseating and boring; and he had no interest in finding the correct book titles and carding through said books just for a measly literature project. 

No. Instead what interested him was the underground gambling ring that he had heard of. The rumors danced through the school for weeks now, and with the many connections Mammon had made over the years, he knew this was a chance for him to make potential easy bank. So the plan was simple; he would get you to do the after school research for him, while he ditched his last classes of school in exchange for going gambling. The difficult part wasn’t the ditching- since Mammon was practically a pro at that- but the fact that he needed to actually persuade you in agreeing to his stupid idea. But even now, you continued to surprise him. Despite knowing how excruciatingly long it could take, and besides the fact that it wasn’t your burden to carry, you still accepted. 

Mammon felt like crying.

Despite the hundreds of calls Mammon sent to your phone, you didn’t pick up once.

It’s been hours now and he still hasn’t heard from you.

Lucifer was going to murder him.

Lucifer was going to find out that he made you walk alone at night and he was going to rip his head off of his body and stake it right on the-

“Mammon?”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEK!!” Mammon screamed, throwing his body against the chair with so much force he almost knocked the entire thing over. He didn’t even realize Asmo had made his way into the main room so silently. “I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING I SWEAR!”

Asmodeus raised an eyebrow, his hands sassily thrown on his hips as he stared at Mammon with familiar disinterest. His younger brother was wearing his pink night robe, another reminder to Mammon that it was already so late. “Like I’d believe that, but this isn’t about you. I’m looking for Y/N~ Have you seen her?” 

The question was an innocent one, but almost automatically Mammon felt his stomach bubble with poison. He suddenly felt sick and queasy, steadying himself on the arms of the chair. “No….” The muscles in Mammon’s shoulders involuntarily flinched. Mammon should have said more, but it was like his body was rejecting it. Like if he didn’t admit out loud that Y/N hasn’t come home yet, it wouldn’t be a reality. 

Now, Asmodeus wasn’t dull. It was his pride and ability to understand feelings and communication that allowed him to read the room like an Olympic, and yet in this instance it wouldn’t take a philosopher to recognize something was very wrong. “Mammon, weren’t you with her?” He questioned lightly, eyebrows twitching in annoyance. “I haven’t seen my darling all day, which is already weird since she was supposed to come to my room tonight and help me apply a new face mask. It’s almost 12:30!!” he huffed, inching closer and closer to Mammon’s face as the latter continuously attempted to sink further back into the seat. Hopefully the chair would swallow Mammon whole and save him from this living nightmare.

Mammon shrugged his shoulders as a wordless I don’t know, which only seemed to agitate Asmo more. Quickly he realized that Asmodeus needed to hear actual words.

“Oh boy… is it hot in here? Because I’m sweating buckets ehehe..” Mammon laughed humorlessly, reaching up to fan the collar of his shirt in order to get air flowing over his sweat ridden neck.

“No, I thouft if wash ashually prettie chillie thoday.”

This time, it wasn’t Asmo’s high pitched and whiny voice to respond. 

It was a deep and slow rumbling voice, and way more unclear due to the fact that it seemed like said demon had his mouth full of food. A preoccupied Beelzebub was standing over Asmodeus, his giant shadow casted over the lust demon. His arms were full with a variety of different foods he no doubt snatched from the kitchen on the way back to his room for a midnight snack. He cradled the food in his arms like they were his children, ready for him to gobble up as soon as he probably got back to his room. Actually, Mammon was shocked that there was any food left for Beel to even take back to his room, let alone the fact that the ginger demon was standing here in the main hall trying to butt into their business. Usually Beel was uninterested in idle chat that the rest of his brothers were involved in. Banter and arguments were of no interest to Beelzebub. 

And yet for some reason, Beel found interest in the conversation that Mammon and Asmo were having.

“I actually haven’t seen Y/N at all today either. She’s not in her room” Beel muttered, slowly taking another giant bite from a rather large sandwich. His eyes were trained down on the floor, clearly bothered by the conclusion that left his lips. 

There it was. That was the reason Beelzebub inserted himself into the conversation. 

Because of Y/N.

Mammon felt another train of guilt ram into his chest, and he clutched the area above his heart as if it could stop it from bursting. He knew how much Y/N means to Beel. He knew from the many late night talks Mammon and Beel had; how the ginger would once confess to Mammon that he may have liked her more than normal. That he was confused on why her smiles made him feel lightheaded, and that her laughter made her almost ten times prettier than she already was. Mammon had simply brushed Beel off as a lunatic at that time. Beel was a demon, and Y/N was a human. Beel was simply delusional.

But Mammon had watched the two interact from that moment on. All the baking Y/N had done for Beel, when they were the first two to fall asleep leaning on each other after movie night, how Beel made sure to split his food portions with her, how they both pulled away like lightning shocked them when their hands accidentally touch, how he purposefully requested foods that he knew were her favorites. He realized it wasn’t just a fleeting thing that Beelzebub felt. His closed up and simple-minded younger brother truly and deeply admired Y/N. 

Mammon felt like an awful older brother in that moment. 

“See?!” Asmodeus gestured to Beel with open arms. “Even Beel hasn’t seen her. What is going on?”

Mammon couldn’t even lift his head to look into the eyes of his worried little brothers. The hurt on their faces would cause him to burst. Mammon concluded he had to be one the unluckiest demon in the world.

Before he could answer, someone yet again spoke up. Another familiar face; and one that Mammon had been dreading.

“I thought I’d find you all here. What is all the ruckus about?”

Nope. He spoke too soon. He was the unluckiest demon in the world.

Mammon swallowed his saliva thickly, his throat clogging up almost instantly, making his whole body freeze as if all his blood was turned into ice. He wasn’t the only one; Asmo and Beel had both tensed up at the mere sound of the voice.

Lucifer stood there, his arms crossed against his chest. He was probably waiting for the situation to be explained. He was probably waiting to hear how Mammon had screwed something up this time. How Mammon had managed to cause them trouble yet again. ‘Mammon this’ and ‘Mammon that’. The guilt was written all over his face. They might as well handcuff him and throw him in a prison cell to rot.

Maybe that’s what he deserves.

Unlike the other two, Mammon raised his head slowly to get a look at Lucifer. There were dark undereye circles formed under his striking red eyes, and it was clear Lucifer needed some sleep from the tireless work he probably had today. His eyes looked different.

They looked exhausted. They looked dead. Perhaps they were.

“Lucifer! We haven’t seen Y/N all day, so we were just asking Mammon where she was! I mean, she’s not in her room, she’s not picking up her phone, she’s not anywhere!” Asmodeus hurriedly explained, brushing out a stray piece of hair that had fallen in front of his perfect face.

Beel nodded in agreement, turning towards Lucifer to give him his full attention.

But even with all their eyes now trained on Lucifer, the demon of pride gave none of them his attention; only Mammon. His eyes were narrowed down and zoned in on the cowering man. All color had left Mammon’s face as he tried to stop himself from shaking at the potential news he needed to share to the rest of his brothers- and for the punishment that would be coming as a result.

“Well? Where is she Mammon?” Lucifer demanded, tapping a finger. “Didn’t she walk home with you today?”

The white-haired demon may not be the brightest tool in the shed; but he knew when to admit guilt. He knew that with every second wasted, Y/N was still out there on the streets of literal hell walking home alone. He couldn’t worry about the punishment he may face because of his stupid mistake; her safety should have come first.

He forced himself to speak. His throat made a strange noise when he swallowed.

“I-I… I don’t know,” he said softly. His shoulders were tensed up and his head was dropped forward. As if he was ashamed. “I didn’t walk home with her today… She stayed late doing research at the academy while I went home.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched involuntarily, and his nails suddenly dug into his own arms harshly. “You WHAT?” he yelled, his expression differing from Asmodeus and Beelzebub’s expression. 

Asmo’s eyes widened tenfold, and his mouth hung agape. “She’s walking home alone?! Around Devildom all willy nilly?!” he screeched, panic rushing through his veins at an alarming speed. While Asmo’s panicked expression was just as frightening to Mammon, Lucifer’s anger was far worse. He could see all kinds of emotions in Lucifer's face. The wrinkle of anger across his forehead, the fear, wrath, and disappointment portrayed in his eyes. 

“Let me get this straight Mammon, she is still out there at 12:30 am in the middle of the Devildom because you decided that you weren’t going to make sure she’s fine, even though that was the job assigned to you. She could be killed! We haven’t got a hold of her yet, and you are just sitting here WAITING?” Lucifer’s voice was sharp and cold, hitting the nail on every point. Even through his cracked exterior, Mammon could tell Lucifer was panicking.

“When was the last time anyone saw her??” Lucifer demanded, quickly zeroing in on Asmodeus. He probably didn’t want to look at Mammon’s guilt-ridden face anymore. And Mammon couldn’t blame him.

Asmodeus’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t look at me! I haven’t seen her for hours Lucifer!” his light eyes filled to the brim with tears, and his voice on the verge of shaking.

“Lucifer,” Mammon began, his bottom lip trembling. He felt sick. “I- I know I should’ve gone to you straight away but I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop talking Mammon. We will discuss this later,” Lucifer spat, still not looking him in the eye. “Asmodeus, go find Leviathan and tell him to try and track down where Y/N’s phone may be. Wake up Satan and Belphegor. They will be the search party.”

Almost immediately Asmodeus rushed out of the room, leaving Lucifer to deal with the other two.

“Beel, I need you to stay here in case she comes back. If she does we-” Lucifer paused his command, scanning the room at an alarming speed. “Beel?”

The room was empty; all that was left was the remains of leftover food disregarded on the floor of the main hall. They hadn’t seen him leave.

All they heard was the front door slam shut.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Beel was always more of the quiet type. 

His brothers were brash and uncooperative; Mammon would get into trouble, and then Lucifer would begrudgingly step in to fix it, and then Satan or Asmo would poke fun at him, causing him to bite back, all the while Leviathan and Belphegor locked themselves up in their rooms doing their own activities. It’s all in a day of the life. And he really loved them for it.

Despite growing up in an environment with loud and dysfunctional people, it wasn’t a necessity to try and gain attention to himself. In fact, he couldn’t care less. He was content with sitting there watching everyone else interact. Usually the only things on his mind were exercising, spending time with his family, and food.

Ah yes, food. 

Both a curse and a blessing. 

As the avatar of gluttony, Beelzebub was given an eternal and everlasting greed for food. Like a continuous blackhole, his body disintegrated food as soon as it entered his stomach, leaving him to wish there was more. His stomach could never be satisfied or quenched, nor can his hunger ever be fulfilled. 

In its very essence; gluttony.

As much as his stomach has caused problems in the past- like Beel eating the entirety of the kitchen in one sitting, leaving none for his brothers- it also allowed Beel to pass the time and do something. It was like a comfort being able to chew on the foods he found delicious. Especially back when he didn’t have Belphegor to talk to. When he didn’t have Belphegor to spend time with.

He remembers laying in bed at night, staring blankly at his twin’s side of the room, wondering how he was doing or where he was. He hoped Belphegor was happy, he hoped he was safe, but most of all he hoped Belphegor missed him as much as he did. When he was gone, it felt like there were two black holes in Beel’s body; one in his stomach, and one in his heart.

And it really hurt.

The late hours of the nights was what Beelzebub dreaded the most. He knew every night his dreams would sweep him into more pain and anguish- he would dream about Belphegor or Lilith again with a faux sense of happiness, and he couldn’t bear it.

Those were the times he was thankful for his hunger. His stomach would rumble loudly in the dead of night, forcing Beelzebub to snap out of his dreams and get up to the kitchen to half-heartedly try and pursue being full.

Yet now that Belphegor was back home, he no longer felt happy to get up out of bed at night to sneak into the kitchen for another meal. It didn’t make him feel happy anymore, it just continued to bother him. Yet it was practically impossible to ignore it.

Thankfully, Beelzebub had something else to help soothe that ache.

You.

Even if his hunger could never be satisfied, being around you could at least make it bearable. He found himself being reluctant in getting up to go to the kitchen when you had accidentally fallen asleep on his arm. And perhaps that little bit of reluctance was what he needed to get his mind off of food.

Through the multiple months, almost a year and a half now, you had become increasingly important to him. At first he recognised how sweet of a person you were. A part of him was worried you’d be swallowed by the burdens and terror his brothers would put you through, and while there were definitely some ups and downs, they all adored you and your more motherly tendencies. It was something they were all lacking in their lives.

Unbeknownst to him though, his connections with you went further than just enjoying each other’s presence. Perhaps you two weren’t all that different; besides the obvious species you were both categorized into. You would openly laugh at his jokes, cook and bake food for him, never once judged him or gobbling down hordes of food in one sitting, you got along insanely well with Belphegor, you were artistic, kind, and intelligent in your own ways. There was a nagging curiosity that told him he should be spending more time with you. And with that curiosity, he found a plane of comfort and safety around you.

It was so instant. It really caught him off guard. 

But now you had made it into the top of his list on people he wanted to keep safe; someone very close to his heart.

And apparently you were out there somewhere on your way home. Yet no one could reach you.

Beelzebub didn’t have the heart to tell Mammon or Lucifer that he had also tried to call your phone several times today. Except, he only came to the surface-level conclusion that you must have been too busy to answer his calls. He had no clue you were alone out here.

If he was Lucifer, there would be multiple scenarios flinging through his mind on where you could be or what could have happened to you. As a natural pessimist, Lucifer might have imagined you already dead in a nearby alleyway by some delinquent demon who was out for human blood. Lucifer could be imagining the grimy hands of multiple demons taking you away- somewhere the brothers would have no way of finding you. Maybe part of Lucifer’s panic came from the fact that this would violate Diavolo’s direct order to keep you safe.

But Beelzebub was not Lucifer. Beel did not have a clear head, or a strategic way of thinking through problems. 

No, he was all action and instinct, which is probably why he was still running around the Devildom like a lost cause. Half of Beel’s conscience told him it would be worth the risk to wreck multiple buildings until he somehow would run into you. But he needed to stop the itch of destruction that threatened to climb out of him. Lucifer would only be more angry.

In the back of Beel’s mind he made a reminder to apologize to Lucifer for barging out of the house in the way that he did. But he couldn’t waste any more time when you still weren’t home. Especially since Beelzebub was the most adept physically and capably to track and find you.

Sniff, sniff.

Beelzebub paused in the middle of a random city square, sniffing the air like a bloodhound dog. On a normal day this should be easy for him, but the drizzling rain made it more difficult to pinpoint your scent. A familiar scent of dough and bread made its way into his nostrils. The bakery is about two miles north, and the cafe that we went to a few days ago is a few feet away. Oh God, he couldn’t smell people though, were you already taken?? Who would take you? Who would hurt you? Beel could feel the blood pounding in his heart, and he forced himself not to panic. 

Beelzebub took another deep breath, sniffing the air rather loudly, trying to pinpoint exact locations. He could smell sweets, a diner filled with dishes of steak and chicken, and some booze. 

His stomach grumbled loudly, mixing with the noises of distant thunder. He couldn’t get angry. He needed to calm down.

Sniff, sniff.

He perked up, head shooting towards a pathway swallowed by complete darkness. That smelled like Asmodeus’s perfume...

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Raindrops flecked at your face, dotting the surface of your eyes. 

Of course tonight of all nights, the Devildom would decide to sprinkle a little bit of rain just to make your night a little better.

Everlasting darkness was a permanent feature that came along with the Devildom, and although it took some getting used to, you really didn’t seem to mind it anymore. The sunshine was a wonderful thing; and something that you yearned and missed from back in the human world. But it was something you could live without.

In your opinion, rain was something you could live without too.

You huffed, swiping the light rain from your eyelashes with the palm of your hand in order to try and see the road ahead of you. You were already so tired as it is. The need for your warm and cozy bed where you can fall asleep and get ready for tomorrow was what kept you moving forward. How long did it fucking take to get home??

Tsk, tsk.

A nagging feeling in your guts caused you to look over your shoulder, staring desperately into the shadows lined across buildings and alleyways. After a minute of silence, you turned back around to continue your way to the House of Lamentation. It was probably nothing anyways… you’ve been hearing sounds this entire time and never once had you run into another demon.

Another glance at your dead phone told you that you needed to hurry back.

You cursed yourself for forgetting to charge your phone before heading to bed last night. That’s what some late night gaming with Leviathan will do to you… And yet you could only blame yourself for being unable to reach 5 cm to plug your phone into the charger before knocking out.

Somewhere in the distance, lightning forked across the sky, followed by thunder loud enough to make your ears ring.

Another glance over your shoulder told you that no one was following you.

You kept on walking, looking up into the street name that you were passing onto now. A small grin on your face as you recognized the dark and washed out street sign. Ha! You were going in the right direction.

For a moment you could hear the hushed whispers of people… and something else.

Breathing.

You had no time to react. Like the lightning above, you felt yourself getting yanked into the alleyway you were just about to pass. You let out a shriek, your heart practically jumping out of your throat as you were thrown against a nearby wall of the alleyway. From the miracle of some vision you had left through the darkness, you were able to make out three figures that occupied the space in front of you, blocking your means of escape. Their heads were decorated with individually different horns, and you knew instantly that they were demons.

Fuck.

You weren’t sure you could even survive a fight with one of these guys, let alone three of them.

The buildings that sandwiched you and the three demons acted like a barrier, shielding you and them from the rest of the world.

“See? I told ya she was a human!”

One of the demons had whispered to the other ones, particularly the middle one, who had his eyes trained on you. He must have been the one to pull you into the alleyway, away from prying eyes.

“Yeah dipshit, we already knew…”

Sweat trickled down the back of your neck and your hands suddenly felt slick, despite how chilly it was outside.

The demon in the middle ignored the banter between the other two, instead choosing to lean in a little closer to you. “Hey little lady, what are you doing out here all alone?” he had a sickeningly sweet tone to his voice, seemingly studying your face. You had no clue if he could even see you clearly from the dark. His constant movements closer to your face made you feel nauseous as you attempted to move back as far as you could with a damn wall behind you.

Your mouth felt too dry for speaking. What did they want? Money? Directions?

You almost laughed at the ridiculous humor of demons needing directions from a human in their own town. Would they really take out the time of their day to yank you off the street for directions?

“I… I-I um was just.. On my way home..” you had attempted to speak with confidence, but it seemed your body had other ideas in showing that. Your voice cracked multiple times, and judging by their waiting faces, you weren’t even sure they heard you.

“On your way home?? Do humans even live here?” the one in the back snickered, trying to lean on the one in the middle to also try and get a better look at you as well. All three of them seemed captivated by the fact that you were a human girl. As if they’d never seen one before. It made you feel small and sick to your stomach. Even though they were simply asking questions right now, people don’t normally pull you into an alleyway just to talk. So what the hell did they want??

“Treta shut the fuck up,” the one in the middle hissed again, elbowing his partner to get him off of his shoulder. You could hear the demon huff as if he had been struck in the stomach.

You swallowed, hearing the blood from your heart pump in your ears. “W-Well uh it’s nice to meet you all, but I should really be getting on my way… My friends are waiting for me,” you mustered up the courage to speak, your eyes nervously flitting back and forth between them.

The demons didn’t seem to want to back off though, as much as you wanted to sprint out of there. “Do ya want us to walk you home sweetheart?” the middle demon spoke up once again. He seemed to be the one most in control regarding their little group.

He also had a pungent smell in his breath, one that you couldn’t put a finger on… It could have been cigarettes.

“Um no.. I’m really sorry… I think I’ll be okay though,” you gave them a shaky smile, praying that it’ll be enough to convince them to leave you alone. You must have been naive to think it was though, because they made no sudden movements to give you some space.

“I don’t think it’ll be okay at all. I want to spend more time with you,” he replied, making you want to yell in frustration. Why couldn’t they take a hint?? 

You opened your mouth to protest, but the demon had beat you to it. “Not to worry, we can make this conversation quick. Or maybe we can head back to our place,” he gripped your upper arm, leaving you to try and jolt out of his much stronger grip. The other two acted like this was normal, practically standing around you in a ring formation. You were trapped. This situation was already uncomfortable as it is, but you felt more restricted with this stranger gripping your arm in a vice-like hold. 

“E-Excuse me!” you spoke up, trying to keep a clear head, your other hand reaching over to attempt to pull the demon’s hand off of you. The attempts were futile however, and you were left there looking pathetic in trying to move something that won’t budge. “I’m trying not to be rude right now, b-but I’m very uncomfortable. I seriously don’t have time for this, please just leave me alone…”

The guy in the middle inched closer to your face, your noses practically touching as you stared up at him. Your eyebrows creased in fear and frustration. As much as you wished he could understand how frightened you were right now, his morals still appeared to be low in the dirt as he simply narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are bitches so sensitive? We’re not asking you to fuck us, we’re just trying to talk with you.”

One of the other demons off to the side decided to butt in aggressively. “What the fuck is the problem? We’re just standing here, shit.”

You really didn’t know what to say in response. You tried to give yourself space, you tried being nice to them, you tried telling them to leave you alone. From the sounds of your breathing, you could tell you were inhaling and exhaling heavily. No matter how much you moved your arm, you couldn’t get it out of his grip. And based on the fact that they were demons, there was no way you could possibly overpower one physically. You couldn’t even move enough to try and grab the pepper spray you kept in your coat pocket.

Something inside you shrank at the sight of them.

They just looked so… hostile.

“You know, you’re really cute for a human. And this is a cute skirt,” the other one chuckled, running his fingers up and down your leg dangerously close to your thigh. Your jaw tensed up, and you cringed physically, too afraid to breathe or move. Any gestures you made weren’t taken well, and as soon as you tried to swat his hand off of your leg, his hand just clamped onto your upper leg tighter forcing your skirt up higher than it should be.

Okay now was a good time to panic. Your heart rate hasn’t managed to slow down at all yet, giving you time to think that you might die from a heart attack before these demons would be able to get you. As dark as it is, you could still see the road on your right, lit up by a dim streetlamp. Maybe if you pushed with your full body force, you could make a run for it. Or maybe… if you screamed loud enough someone out there would hear you.

“P-Please stop,” you croaked out, anchoring your face away from the two on the left to try and desperately look for an exit. 

Again, your statement fell on deaf ears. You couldn’t tell who did it, but one of them suddenly tore off the scarf Asmodeus had given to you this morning. It’s beautiful pink color was thrown against the dirty floor of the alleyway. “Just relax,” he drawled. “You’re wearing too much right now, let’s remove some layers.”

“Stop it!! I told you I-” you squirmed even more now, not caring if his grip was tight enough to bruise your arm. You just wanted their grimy hands to stop touching you. A hand slammed down on your mouth, keeping any noise from escaping your lips; the force of it knocking your head back against the brick of the building.

“Shhhhh! Keep quiet or we’ll fucking kill you.”

You couldn’t believe this. The one time you had to walk alone, and this happens. You knew you should have waited for someone to pick you up. You knew you should have turned back to find Diavolo or something. You knew you should have asked someone to stay after school with you; someone like Beelzebub who would never say no to helping you when you needed it. Maybe if he were here with you, you could be enjoying your walk home this late at night.

Hot tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you could feel the contrast of the cold night air against the warm tears sliding down your face. You almost couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Now let’s-” the demon in the middle was cut off as a giant hand reached from the shadows to wrap it’s digits around the demon’s throat. 

All four of you had flinched, not realizing that someone else had been in the alley with you this entire time. And now that you could see it, you felt blind for not having noticed the giant man standing behind the demons. He was kind of difficult to not notice.

Whoever he was, he was huge, towering over you and the three delinquent demons despite the fact that he looked to be hunched over.

He wasn’t just huge, he looked solid and muscular, and probably all of you realized that there would be no chance wrestling away from this guy.

The middle demon made a gurgling noise, most likely due to the fact that his entire body was being hoisted off of the ground by just his neck. All the air compressed in your chest was lifted like a curse as the demon chose to let go of your arm to instead trade its place to claw at the hand wrapped around his neck. He was desperate for air, scratching at the stranger’s hand. 

He didn’t budge.

Whoever the hell this was, his grip on the middle demon was tight. So tight that you could see the veins and muscles popping out of the struggling demon’s neck.

The demon’s face was turning red.

He was scrambling to breathe.

His chest looked like it was palpitating.

For some reason you still couldn’t move, watching with wide eyes as the life began draining from the demon’s face.

“Hey!! What the fuck?!”

You think it may have been the demon on your left, but he had finally snapped out of whatever daze he may have been in, dashing forward to try and aim a well pivoted punch towards the unknown savior. 

Like a reflex, the shadow dropped the choking demon, who was left hacking and coughing on the cold pavement. He was greedily swallowing the air now. And in return, the shadow gripped the fist of the demon who threw the punch. In an instant, he caught the punch midair, proceeding to crush the demon’s fist as if it was plastic. 

The demon let out a strangled cry, and you could hear the bones in his hands breaking with a sickening crunch. You covered your mouth to prevent yourself from gasping, gnawing on your tongue as you watched the two demons struggle with their new injuries. 

Perhaps the third demon was the smartest, as he made no sudden moves to try and attack the much larger figure. 

“Leave.”

You blinked suddenly, eyebrows shooting up as you instantly recognized the voice. 

Without another word, the uninjured demon rushed down to pick up his friend. He leaned over to pull his buddy up to his feet, making a run out of the alleyway with the third demon on their tails as if their lives depended on it.

Now… you were left standing here alone with the man who had saved you.

Apparently it was still raining… Apparently you had stopped noticing.

Quickly you wiped the tears from your face with the fronts of your palms.

He was breathing heavily- probably just as heavily as you were- as you both stared at each other in silence for a moment. By the ragged breaths he was taking, it seemed like he had run all the way out here.

And when he stepped closer, close enough that you could see his face, you felt your pulse quicken.

That familiar tuft of red hair, the familiar voice, those familiar purple eyes you were so used to seeing.

“Beel!!” you exclaimed, pushing yourself off of the wall to throw yourself on the demon. Words could not even begin to describe how happy you were to see him again, how glad that he had stepped in when he did. The thought alone that he came out here to look for you made you want to cry.

Unlike the expression he had just a few moments ago, Beel’s face instantly relaxed as he had opened his arms enough to encase your body. You honestly didn’t care that he had to crouch a little more to reach your height. Instead, you chose to bury your head in his neck for some sense of comfort.

Even with all the rain and the heavy winds beginning to pick up, Beelzebub was still a radiator of warmth as you clung onto him, body shaking with little sobs. 

And he let you.

Despite you being the one to grapple onto Beel for dear life, his reciprocated grip was just as tight around you, making you wonder in the back of your mind that he might have missed you just as much as you had missed him.

There was a moment or two of complete silence, and once you felt like you got all of your sadness out of your system, you pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. “How did you find me here?!”

Beelzebub sheepishly shrugged, giving you another one of his little smiles to aid in your body calming down. 

The worst was over now… You were going to be fine.

“I sort of just… followed a scent,” he finally replied shortly, pulling away to let you go pick up the pink scarf that was sitting on the ground. Its fabric was wet and dirty, the rain allowing for the med and grime to stick to the once beautifully clean scarf.

You grumbled to yourself, saddened by the fact that the scarf Asmodeus had so graciously given you to keep warm was all ruined.

Those jerks.

But even then… you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. Instead, you glanced over at Beel who was preoccupied on a phone call with someone who appeared to be yelling at him. 

“Y-Yes, I found her…. We’re on our way home right now…”

Beelzebub’s shoulders were tensed up and a look of guilt crossed his face in a pout as he was getting yelled at over the phone. He looked like a completely different person now; his serious exterior was replaced with a cowaring expression as he was scolded. You assumed the man over the phone was Lucifer…

There was still a light-hearted part of you that wanted to laugh at the sight of someone as frightening and strong as Beelzebub being reprimanded- but your exhaustion prevented it. Honestly, all you could think about was curling up in bed and going to sleep.

And perhaps you wouldn’t have been able to if Beel hadn’t found you.

You paused for a moment, studying the redhead with a light smile. A tugging feeling was replaced in your chest, as you had the sudden urge to do something a little bold. Making your way over to him, you stood up on your tiptoes to give him a light kiss on the cheek. It snapped him out of his conversation with Lucifer, causing him to look down at you with wide, confused eyes. 

“Thank you by the way,” you mumbled, nervously picking at your fingernails, hoping the gesture could prove how thankful you were. 

You watched him swallow thickly before putting on a smile and speaking to you once again. “You’re welcome… now, I think we should go home.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART SIX

:Masterlist:

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, angst (sorry <3)

A/N: this was definitely meant to be posted like a week ago but here it is! <3

---

August 1994

The florescent lights of the hospital waiting room were starting to give you a headache. 

They were way too bright and flickered every so often that it made you dizzy to look at them. But you needed something to focus on to stave off boredom, so you focused your attention on the clock on the wall.

It read just after midnight and you silently cursed yourself, quickly pulling out your flip phone and dialing your mom’s number.

She was probably asleep by now, but thinking about her possibly waiting up and worrying made your stomach turn. The line rang for a moment, but then the ending tone chirped and you were left with her answering machine.

“Hey, Mom. Uh, we had a little accident at practice. Luke was practicing his guitar throw and he kind of threw out his shoulder. I’m gonna drop him off at home and then I’ll probably just stay at the studio so I’m not biking home so late. Okay, love you. Bye.”

You hung up the phone and shoved it in your pocket just as Luke appeared from behind the door. The nurse said something to him that made his eyebrows furrow but he nodded. As you got closer, you realized that his right arm was wrapped in a sling.

“So, you’re not dying?” You joked.

“I might as well be.” Luke pouted, lacing his other arm through yours as you start to walk out of the building and into the parking lot. “They said I can’t play guitar for two weeks.”

You hummed sympathetically, knowing more than anyone how much that was going to drive him crazy. “This is what you get for trying to be all ‘Rockstar’”

“Excuse you.” Luke said. “I am a rockstar.”

“Uh-huh.” You sarcastically nodded.

“You’re a jerk.” Luke grumbled petulantly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Here I am, in unimaginable pain and you have no sympathy.”

“Here’s a tip for the future, if you want sympathy then don’t make me drive through Hollywood past midnight.” You teased, lightly shaking him to show that you weren’t actually serious.

“I’m still surprised that Bobby let you drive ‘Amber’.” He gestured to the car you were walking towards.

‘Amber’ was a present that Bobby had gotten for his birthday a few years earlier and it was his most prized possession. Normally, he never would’ve let you take it, but he didn’t feel like driving and taking Luke to the hospital in the basket on your bike seemed a little impractical. So he had handed over the keys reluctantly.

“You got something to say about my driving skills, Patterson?” You asked as you unlocked the car and settled into the driver's seat. Luke got comfortable in the passenger seat, and winced as he looked over at you.

“Don’t get me wrong, (Y/n). You are many things,” He said. “But a good driver isn’t one of them.”

You flipped him off as you started the car and started pulling out of the parking lot. It was quiet for a minute, but just as you turned back on the street, Luke turned on the radio and a familiar song filled your ears.

“Mmm, yeah!

Tonight, I want to give it all to you,”

“Oh no.” You laughed, knowing exactly what you were in for from the way that Luke’s eyes lit up. He grinned as he cranked up the volume and shifted in his seat as much as he could, ready to give you the performance of a lifetime.

‘In the darkness, there's so much I want to do

And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet

'Cause girl, I was made for you

And girl, you were made for me,’

You were trying your best to keep your eyes on the road, but it was hard when Luke was being so frustratingly cute.

His hair was still messy from rehearsal so it stuck up in different directions and he had a dorky smile on his face as he drummed his fingers against the center console. You pulled up to a red light and Luke looked at you expectantly.

You rolled your eyes, but gave in, taking one hand off the wheel to make a makeshift microphone. Luke grinned as you both began to sing.

‘I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

And I can't get enough of you, baby

Can you get enough of me?’

One song turned into two, then three, then before you knew it, you had pulled onto Luke's street.

Unlike the rest of the neighborhood, every light in the Patterson household was glowing bright yellow into the night and Luke let out a heavy sigh.

"Thanks for driving me." He said, his voice suddenly a little quiet. You looked up to the window to see the shadows of Luke's worried parents as they passed the curtains and suddenly the levity in the air was gone.

"Of course." You said.

You both knew what was about to happen.

Luke had told you all about the famous Emily Patterson meltdowns, and how they had been getting more and more frequent since he formed the band. Luke spraining his shoulder was only going to give his mom more reason to push Luke away from music.

From your music.

"Hey," You reached over and interlocked his pinky with yours, making Luke raise his eyes from his feet. "Don't let her get in your head, okay? Our music is important, and I know she'll realize that someday."

Luke’s eyes held yours for what seemed like an eternity before lightly squeezing his pinky around yours. “How do you always know what to say?”

You laughed. “’Cause I’m the greatest best friend ever.”

Luke smiled, his eyes slowly drifting from your still connected hands back up to your face. “Yeah, you are.”

The softness in his voice made your heart skip a beat. “I’m serious though. We’ll get into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame someday and you’ll prove her wrong.”

Luke learned a little closer, his voice practically a whisper, "Is this your way of admitting that I actually am a rockstar?"

"Oh, shut up." You groaned as you threw your head back. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"You love me." Luke retorted.

"Unfortunately." You deadpanned. "Now get out of the car, dork."

Luke fake pouted as he wiggled out of his seat and started walking towards the door, he gave you a quick grin and a wave before disappearing into his house.

Once he was out of sight, you let out a sigh and leaned back against the seats, trying to remember the way his hand felt in yours.

---

2020

"(Y/n)! Where have you been?"

Alex demanded the second you stepped into the studio, a worried expression on his face. As soon as you left the diner so late, you knew that a lecture from Alex was coming.

"I’m sorry, Al." You said. "I just lost track of time."

"Were you with that guy from the diner?" He asked, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrow.

"Someone's in trouble." Reggie loudly whispered to Luke who was next to him on the couch. Just like usual, Luke barely spared you a glance before he glued his eyes back to his songbook.

"I don’t think you have any room to be teasing anyone about cute ghost boys.” You said, mirroring his position. “How was your afternoon with Willie?”

Across the room, you could’ve sworn Luke’s writing got heavier against the page. But when you looked over at him, he gave no other indication he was paying attention. 

“Don’t change the subject,” Alex's cheeks turned a little pink but he stood his ground. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

“Hey,” You walked up and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry I made you worry. But you don’t have to. I’m good.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry.” Alex said, finally dropping his grumpy face and nudging you. “What else are best friends for?”

This time it wasn’t your imagination, Luke’s writing was definitely getting harder, enough to where it was going to rip a hole in the paper. Reggie and Alex noticed this time too and you all exchanged confused looks but before anyone could say anything, Luke jumped up from the couch.

“So! We should get working on this song.” He puts the page on the piano for you all to read. “I could use your help on the bridge, (Y/n).”

Alex shot you one last confused look and you shrugged before shifting your focus to the song. It was mostly finished, and with Julie’s poem as a guide for the lyrics, you were confident that it would be one your best songs yet.

Next to you, Luke scanned the page with the edge of his pencil, pointing at things he wanted your opinion on. Even with all the tension surrounding the two of you lately, it was nice to know that you were still a great team when it came to music.

---

For someone who learned that ghosts exist, that four of them from the 90′s were living in her best friends garage, and that they were all in a band together in one afternoon,

Flynn took the news surprisingly well.

Which meant that once Julie agreed to join the band, Flynn immediately started coming up with T-shirt ideas and new band names. You weren’t surprised at all when Julie announced that Flynn had booked a gig at the school dance a few days later.

You had all decided on the setlist that morning and had been practicing all day. Which meant by mid-afternoon, you had everything memorized. Since it was the first performance with Julie as a part of the band, you figured that letting her take the lead with vocals would be a good idea.

During the second break of the day, Luke and Reggie were messing around up in the loft, leaving you and Julie with nothing to do. So she offered to teach you a little about piano. It was a slow-going process but you were slowly getting the hang of it. "Okay, so, like this?"

Julie watched carefully as your hand flew across the keys. You miraculously played all the right notes to the song that Julie had taught you over the past half-hour and she beamed.

“Yeah! That’s perfect!” She said, “Play it again.”

Your finger was about to press down on the key, but then Alex phased through the doors. Ever since yesterday, you had been waiting for a moment to tease him about Willie. It was only fair since he just grilled you about being out all day.

“Hey, Al.” You greeted as you stepped away from the keyboard and wiggled your eyebrows at him. “And just where have you been?”

“Yeah, man, we gotta start practicing.” Luke said.

“For what?” Alex asked just as Flynn came strutting into the room. You noticed the colorful paper in her hand and nodded your head toward it with a grin. 

“For that.” 

Flynn set the paper down on the keyboard to Julie to see.

Alex whined as he looked it over. “Aw, man. We’re playing a dance?”

“Yeah, it’s how you build a following these days.” Luke said as he plopped down into a chair.

“Yeah, get with the program, Alex.” Julie said and Luke laughed.

The sound drew your eyes to his face and you can’t help but stare at him as you tried to remember the last time you and Luke had joked around like that. It used to come so naturally, but now even just being around Luke felt like a ticking time bomb of awkwardness. 

Luke’s eyes flitted up to yours for just a second and for the next few moments you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing.

Flynn shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The band is here?”

She then proceeds to wave to the wrong side of the room and you laughed as Julie gestured towards where you all were actually sitting. You all still waved back despite knowing she couldn’t see you.

“Okay, so now that Alex has graced us with his presence, we should get back to rehearsing.” Luke said and everyone nodded in agreement.

But before any of you could move, Carlos strolled in. “Hey, Julie, remember those orbs from dad’s pictures? I think they’re ghosts.”

Julie’s eyes went wide as she looked at the photos Carlos set on the keyboard right in front of her. She looked back and forth between all of you as Carlos rambled on.

“But don’t worry.” He said as he spun in a circle. “This room is clean, I’m not getting any ghost vibes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Carlos was exactly what you always pictured a little brother would be like. You had always wanted a sibling, but the closest you ever got was Reggie.

“If they come back, I’ll protect you.” Carlos puffed out his chest a little. “Because I’m the man of the house.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t dad supposed to be the man of the house?”

“There can be two.” He said as he pulled a salt shaker out of his pocket. “According to the internet, salt burns out their souls.” 

Your eyes all got wide and you backed up until you were almost against the wall. Reggie and Luke both yelped and jumped up as Carlos spun in another circle. Alex screamed as salt went right through his torso, but he straightened a second later with a sheepish smile.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re such a drama queen.” You snort as Alex flipped you off. Julie nodded at Flynn to distract Carlos and she led him out through the doors and back up to the house.

Once they had left, you turned to Julie with an excited smile. "Wait, before we start, I wanted to show you some old Sunset Curve songs."

"Ooh, okay!”

Luke opened his songbook and a page quickly fell out. You instantly recognized the cramped but neat handwriting and laughed at Reggie. "'Home Is Where My Horse Is'? Again, Reg?"

Reggie beamed. "It's a gift."

"Thanks, Buddy." Luke patted his shoulder before opening his songbook to a page in the middle and laying it across the piano for Julie to see. 'I think you’d kill this one."

Julie’s eyes scanned the page for a moment before flipping through the book. "Who's Emily?"

The color drained out of Luke's face as he scrambled for the journal. But Julie kept it just out of his reach. "And this another one, 'She Is Love’? Who knew you were such a romantic?"

You shared confused looks with Alex and Reggie. Of course, you all knew about ‘Unsaid Emily’. Luke always eagerly shared every part of his music with the band, even if it was just a few scribbled lines or a riff he thought of off the top of his head.

But it was clear from the guy’s faces that none of you had ever heard this song. Luke writing a love song was weird in itself, but him not telling anyone about it was even weirder.

"It's just something I tried." Luke said, a faint blush on his cheeks. "But you should flip to the next one. It's got a killer beat."

He played one of the first songs you had ever written for Sunset Curve 'Last Place' and Julie nodded along with a confused look. "So you wanna use a sample?"

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Sample someone else's music." She explained. "I've heard that riff a million times. It's a classic Trevor Wilson song."

"Who?"

With a couple of clicks on her computer, Julie pulled up a picture of a middle aged guy leaning up against a guitar and your head started spinning.

"Guys, is that...?" You trailed off, hoping that you were wrong.

"It's Bobby." Luke finished.

"Seriously? I just told you his name is Trevor." Julie said.

Alex ran his hands through his hair, a slight scowl settling on his face. "Okay well then he changed it. That's definitely Bobby, he was our rhythm guitarist."

"He looks so old." You said, resisting the urge to reach out and poke the screen.

"He looks like a substitute teacher." Alex added, producing a slight chuckle from Reggie. 

"Julie, what were his other songs?" You asked. You had a feeling the bad news was only beginning. 

"'Get Lost'." She said and your heart sank even further.

"I wrote that." Luke said as he tugged his strap over his head. You could tell he was getting angry beneath his calm exterior, and the same feelings were rising up inside you as Julie went on. 

"’Long Weekend'?' She continued. 

"That one too." Reggie said. "It took (Y/n) and Luke like a month to finish."

"This is freaking me out!" Julie rubbed her temples. "This whole time I thought you were connected to my mom. But you're actually connected to Carrie's dad?"

"Add it to our list of questions." Alex sighed, his leg bouncing as he sat in front of his drum set.

“We used to talk about music all the time.” Julie said sadly. “He never mentioned you guys.”

"Of course not." You scoffed and Luke walked across the room and threw a dart at the board with enough force to put a hole in the wall. “He takes all the credit and doesn’t even mention us.”

“And he’s rich.” Julie flipped her computer screen around to show a photo of a huge mansion. “He has his own helicopter.”

Luke abandons the darts and makes his way over to the screen as Alex jumps up. “Man, we live in a garage!”

“It’s not about the money.” Luke huffed. “It’s about the music!”

Reggie whined. “It’s a little bit about the money.”

“A little about the money.” Alex emphasized.

“He could have at least shared it with our families.” You said, thinking about your mom and how she used to work extra shifts to take care of the both of you. 

Reggie nodded in agreement. “Then maybe my parent’s house wouldn’t have gotten turned into a bike shack.”

Luke took a deep breath. ”What he did was steal our legacy.”

There was a moment of tense silence before he spoke up again.

“Where does he live?”

Julie hesitated. It was clear that all of you were angry, but Luke was on another level. His music was everything to him and being betrayed by Bobby was clearly getting under his skin. You gave her a pleading look and she sighed.

“Above the beach in Malibu.”

Luke glanced at the three of you, asking a silent question. You all nodded and Luke threw on his jacket, a look of determination on his face. “Let’s go teach him a lesson.”

Julie got up from the bench and tried to protest, but you all phased away.

-

As you walked into the front door of the mansion, a million memories raced through your head.

Of days when the five of you would go down to the pier or the park and play for hours, or take a drive around the city in Bobby’s car and talk about being famous one day. You used to joke about someone breaking off and starting a solo career, never actually thinking it would happen.

But clearly Bobby took it a little too seriously.

You and Alex walked to one side of the house while Luke and Reggie searched the other side. Every wall you could see was covered in awards and photos of his performances along with a giant portrait of his face right above the living room. From a little further down the hall, Alex shouted your name and you walked over to see him pointing at a display of shiny silver records.

“Have you seen these records? They’re Platinum.” He said.

“Platinum?” You repeated in disbelief. You ran your hands along the frame and were shocked that you could actually touch it. Across the room, Luke grumbled.

“He recorded ‘My Name Is Luke’.” He said. “My name is Luke!”

Suddenly, you heard the front door open and Bobby walked in.

“There he is!” Reggie called and you all turned to face him as he walked up the stairs. You snorted at his outfit choice and Reggie scoffed, clearly thinking the same thing. “He wears sunglasses indoors.”

Luke and Reggie started bouncing up the stairs after him but you and Alex hung back. 

“Wait!” Alex called. “You know, It’s my first time haunting someone. I want it to be special.”

You stifled a laugh as Luke and Reggie exchanged confused looks before continuing up the stairs.

“I made that weird, didn’t I?” Alex cringed and you patted his shoulder.

“Definitely.” You laughed as you nudged him forward. “Come on.”

You reached the top of the stairs just as Reggie and Luke phased through a door at the end of the hall. Alex was quick to follow but you found yourself stopped in front of what you assumed was Bobby’s office. 

It was a huge room with expensive guitars and fancy furniture. It looked like every other room in the house, but for some reason, you felt like you needed to look in there.

Alex noticed your hesitation and frowned. “You coming?”

“I think I’m gonna look around a little more.” You said.

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded.

Once he was gone, you walked into the room and spun around, taking in the sight of even more awards lining the walls. Your blood boiled thinking about all the hours you had spent writing them only for Bobby to take the credit.

You crossed to the desk to find the bottom drawer cracked open. You tried not to open it, but your curiosity won out. It slid open and you saw that it was completely empty except for an old shoebox that was pushed all the way to the back.

The lid was covered with a thin layer of dust like it hadn’t been opened for ages. It took a minute of pulling, but you finally got the lid off and peered inside.

The first thing you saw was a guitar strap. It was black with white skulls and flowers lining the sides. You recognized it instantly as the one Alex got Bobby for his 17th birthday.

The second was a picture of Sunset Curve playing at the winter formal freshman year. You cringed while looking back at your questionable fashion choices, but the memory still brought a smile to your face.

Finally, there were a few picks spread out across the bottom of the box, and a faded napkin from the diner. 

A wave of confusion and regret washed over you.

So Bobby hadn’t forgotten about all of you.

Maybe he was a music-stealing weasel that you wished you could deck in the nose. But why would he keep all of this stuff if he still didn’t care deep down? If that seemingly always grumpy but secretly dorky boy you had known wasn’t still in there somewhere?

Suddenly, you heard screaming down the hall and you quickly closed the drawer before following the noise. It led to the bathroom door, where Luke and Reggie leaned up against the wall as Alex held the door shut. Then he backed up and the door swung open.

Bobby stumbled out with a terrified look on his face, running down the stairs while he mumbled to himself. The boys laughed and high-fived, grinning at you before phasing out again. You groaned and started walking downstairs where Flynn was sitting on the couch rambling to Carrie as Julie snuck into the backyard.

You followed Julie cautiously, knowing that she would probably be mad at you for leaving earlier. When you walked through the screen door and heard her start to lecture the boys, you knew you were right.

“So, did you guys have fun?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“You would do the same if he stole your music.” Luke said defensively.

“But you guys have new music with me.” Julie added. “And the best way to get back at him is for this band to do great. First we have to play dances, then clubs.”

“Then tours. I know.” Luke said and Julie sighed.

“I’ll see you guys at the school. We go on at 9:00.” She frowned. “Please don’t be late.”

“We’ll be there.” Alex said reassuringly. “Don’t worry.”

Julie turned and walked back through the screen door, giving you a tight-lipped smile as she passed. 

“I don’t care what Julie says. I’m glad we scared Bobby.” Reggie said as he glared up at the mansion.

“I mean, maybe it was a little harsh.” You said and all of them stared at you in disbelief.

“Harsh?” Luke sputtered, like he couldn’t believe that just came out of your mouth.

“I found some stuff upstairs.” You tried to explain.

“What kind of stuff?” Reggie asked.

“The picture of us playing back in freshman year, some of our old picks, his old guitar strap.” You said, but the boys didn’t look convinced. “Guys, Bobby was our friend. We shouldn’t forget that.”

Alex and Reggie looked a little conflicted, but Luke didn’t budge. “How are you so cool with this?”

“I’m not!” You sighed, talking a little louder than you meant to. “God, of course I’m not okay with it, Luke. I put just as much of myself in those songs as you did. But I think we’ve done enough. Besides, it's not like we can even confront him anyway.”

“Maybe we can.” Alex said and you all turned to look at him. “I mean, Willie knows a lot about ghost stuff. Maybe he knows a way we could talk to him.”

“Let’s go find out.” Luke smiled mischievously.

You frowned but nodded. “You guys go. I’ll meet you at the dance.”

“(Y/n)-” Luke started but you had already disappeared in a flash of bright white.

-

If there was anything you didn’t miss about being alive, it was school dances.

You were always wrapped up in work or band stuff to be able to go, let alone ask anyone to be your date. Playing at the freshman winter formal was the first and only time you had ever set foot in a dance until tonight.

Your eyes scanned the gym in awe as you followed Julie through the dancing crowd. There were bright lights and balloons everywhere. There were a few kids dancing but it wasn’t very crowded, but it was still early and you hoped more people would be there to see you perform.

Once you and Julie reached the stage, Flynn grinned from behind her DJ booth and gestured to the backstage area. Julie fiddled with the bottom of her shirt nervously as you both walked behind the curtain.

Flynn gave Julie a hug and you laughed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Are they here?”

“(Y/n) is.” Julie explained and Flynn waved in your general direction in response. “The boys will be here later. At least I hope.”

“I’m sure they will be.” You tried to reassure her. “They know how important this is.”

Flynn nudged Julie’s shoulder with a grin. “Well, let’s get your stuff set up then.”

-

By the time 11:00 rolled around, you were ready to track the boys down and kill them again.

The dance floor was twice as crowded as it was when you got there, and everyone was impatiently waiting for the main performance. You knew that wherever the boys were, they must’ve just lost track of time and didn’t know they were late. But that didn’t stop you from being angry. Especially when you saw the look on Julie’s face.

“Hey,” You sat on the floor next to her while she stared sadly at the projector. “I’m sorry they’re not here.”

Julie just shrugged. “I was really looking forward to playing tonight.”

Your eyes drifted to the crowd, then to the projector, then to Flynn and you got an idea. “Maybe we still can.”

She furrowed her eyebrows but there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“We can perform the songs. Just the two of us.” You started. “Flynn can play some backing tracks and we can still rock this place!”

Julie looked nervous and a little hesitant but she called for Flynn and the girl raced over immediately. She explained the plan quickly and Flynn grinned in approval and assured you that she would take care of the backup music.

A pit of butterflies opened in your stomach. You hadn’t performed without the boys for years, but with Julie to lean on, you were fairly confident that you could get through it without throwing up.

You went on with Julie as planned, pushing thoughts about what the boys must be doing off to the side so you could focus on the performance at hand. It wasn’t quite the same, but it didn’t seem like the audience could tell. You belted your hearts out as they danced along, and both yours and Julie’s nerves disappeared as you got lost in the music.

It ended with a thunderous round of applause and you and Julie taking a bow at center stage. You took your cue to phase away and there was another wave of cheering as Julie waved and joined you in the backstage area.

-

As the crowd of students began making their way home and the stage was being torn down, you sat on the gym floor beneath a colorful balloon arch with Julie. Flynn had made her way to the cafeteria, taking advantage of the fact that there were no adults to stop her. 

You watched the last few students leave, including the blonde boy you’d noticed staring at Julie all night. You turned to her with a playful smile. 

"So? When were you going to tell me about the cute boy who obviously likes you?" You teased and Julie sighed.

"Nick is Carrie's boyfriend." She said as her eyes drifted across the empty room and you smiled sympathetically. She elbowed the air next to your ribs, "When were you going to tell me about Luke?"

"What about Luke?" You asked, trying not to blush.

"Don't play dumb, (Y/n)." Julie smirked. "It's obvious."

You groaned, falling onto your back against the floor and Julie laughed. "How obvious?"

"(Y/n), you wear his jacket like everyday, and that song in his journal was one hundred percent about you." Julie laid down beside you.

You snapped your head sideways and Julie laughed again at your shocked expression. "What?"

"Come on." She said. "Who else could that be about?"

You thought back to earlier, when Luke looked like a deer in headlights as Julie read the title out loud.. But you knew there was no way that it was about you. I mean,  Luke never exactly had a shortage of girls that wanted his attention. 

Just as you were about to point this out to Julie, there was a series of bright lights and Alex, Luke and Reggie appeared in front of you. You and Julie stood up, wearing identical glares, the anger you both felt earlier returning in full force. But before you could say a word, Luke launched into an apology.

“We are so sorry that we bailed on you guys.”

“The night just got away from us.” Alex added, looking everywhere but your face.

“It was about Carrie’s dad, wasn’t it?” Julie asked and when none of the boys answered, she scoffed. “You know what? Save it. Bands don’t do this to each other, friends don’t do this to each other. This whole thing was a mistake.”

“You mean the dance, right?” Luke asked hopefully and Julie shook her head.

“I meant joining a band with you guys.” She said, trying to keep a straight face. You could tell she was holding back tears as she ran out of the gym.

Once she was gone, you took a deep breath and faced them.

Alex immediately stepped forward, guilt etched on his face.”(Y/n), We’re so sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should worry about apologizing to.” You said, looking towards the doors where Julie left just a second ago. Alex followed your eyes and sighed, grabbing onto Reggie’s shoulder and steering him towards the door.

There was a moment of heaviness as you took another deep breath. You realized with a start that this was the first time you and Luke had been alone in months. Talking used to come so easily between the two of you, but now you found yourself struggling to find your words. 

“We really are sorry, (Y/n).” Luke said quietly. “We didn’t mean to hurt Julie. Or you.”

You scoffed, kicking your foot against the linoleum of the gym floor, “But you did, and for what? A chance for revenge?”

“No! Well, yeah. But there was something else that happened. You won’t believe-”

“What could’ve been more important than being here?” You asked, cutting him off. You forced yourself to look up and found him looking back at you intently. 

“If you just let me explain, I promise I would never purposely leave you hanging.” 

“But you have been leaving me hanging, Luke!” You fired back, your voice nearly echoing in the empty room. The second the words left your mouth, you felt nauseous. After months of keeping those words on the tip of your tongue, you had expected saying them to feel better.

Luke winced at your words, but kept your gaze, “Hey, I know I’ve been..” He paused, knitting his eyebrows together, “distracted”. 

“That’s one word for it.” You said and Luke took a cautious step closer.

“It’s just that everything has changed so much.” He said, and for the first time tonight, he looked away, “Even before we died.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off, seemingly unable to stop rambling.

“It’s like there’s so many things I’ve been trying to say, but I can’t make the words come out. And it all gets so tangled up in my head and I just end up saying nothing.”

You could see him getting more frustrated as he continued on. “I’m sorry for everything. For being late, for being such a shitty friend and being so far away lately. I just-”

He took another step forward, eyes never leaving your face. “I’m just afraid of losing everything.”

There was an edge to his voice, like it was hard for him to get the words out. As he inched a little closer, you reached out your hand, fingers inches away from his when suddenly he jumped back. A purple shock flashing in the middle of his chest.

Luke fell to the ground, groaning as he clutched his side. You crouched next to him and his eyes fluttered open slowly. “Ow.”

“What the hell was that?” You asked and Luke sat up.

“I don’t know.” He said, rolling his shoulders, “That’s never happened to me before.” 

Suddenly, Alex and Reggie phased back into the gym, both of them looking just as shocked. 

“Guys, something so weird just happened.” Reggie exclaimed. Alex took in the sight of you and Luke sitting so close to each other and cleared his throat.

“Should we come back later?”

You glared at him. “Let me guess, you guys also got shocked with creepy purple magic?”

“How’d you know?” Reggie asked, wide-eyed.

Alex sighed at him before he turned back to you. “We definitely need to figure out what the hell just happened.”

“Yeah, let’s go home.” You said and Luke cleared his throat, staring at Alex and Reggie.

“Uh, you guys go. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Alex gave you a questioning look and you nodded, and with another flash, they phased out.

It was quiet for a minute as you both processed everything that just happened. You and Luke hadn’t had a fight like that since you were kids, and that was the most he had said to you in over half a year. Your head was spinning with all the change.

Luke rubbed the back of his neck and you could almost feel how nervous he was. “So..”

“So…” You repeated.

Luke turned a little more towards you and quickly wrapped his pinky around yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he smiled.

“Truce?” Luke asked.

You nodded, smiling as you squeezed back. “Truce.”

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13​

Let me know if you want to be added!

[fandom-blackhole]

Okay you have no idea how excited I was to see that you're open for requests! I love your Mando stories so could I please request my big boi Paz? I'd love to witness you do magic with prompts : 14 (bodyguard AU) and either 49 (fake marriage)/63 (mistaken for couple)/80 (green-eyed epiphany) *can you tell I couldn't decide* *I'm a Libra* *I do apologize*

Im honored that you love my mando fics and that you got excited about me opening requests 🥺💕Also, as a Sagittarius sun and moon, I relate on not being able to make decisions 😔, but I have a great idea for:

14. Bodyguard AU 

63. Mistaken for Couple

80. Green-Eyed Epiphany  

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x GN!Reader

Words: roughly 2k, woops

Send me some AUs/Tropes??

Note: So I just wanted to start this off with what I'm thinking about this mash-up, like whats going on and the situation. A little backstory/world building, if you will. So, im seeing this as after the tribe on Nervarro scatters after the fight with Grogu, Din, and the Stormtroopers. Paz is by himself and in need of work for credits, to both support himself and save up for when/if he is reunited with his tribe he can help rebuild and contribute. That leads him to a small midrim planet that is pretty divided. You are the head of the government, but there is a group of people who keep trying to kill you and harm your supporters because they want the "true ruler" to be in your place. Said "ruler" is part of a bloodline of radical tyrants that had been controlling the planet until around the same time the empire fell, their downfall resulting from being too involved with the empire. SO, the head of your defense team brings in Paz to protect you, because not only is he a big scary dude covered in big weaponry and armor, but also because you keep insisting that all the soldiers and guards should be protecting the people not you, so bringing in Paz was his little loophole. Now on to the story!

You were not happy with this arrangement, and you had told the head of your guard just as much. You didn't need a protector, it only showed your rivals that you were scared of what they were capable of, that they had the possibility to win this war they were waging. The man- the mandalorian that had been hired was unfazed by your indifference towards him, always just trailing silently behind you look just as menacing as mandalorians were said to be. It was easy to tell that he knew his way around a variety of weapons, it was easy to tell that he had been through battles and suffered their consequences. And it was easy to tell that this job seemed to be a bit boring for him. He didn't have any excitement, most days the mandalorian was stuck following you throughout the capital building, attending meetings that he could care less about, standing guard to your study as you paced around in thought. Nothing much happened, but as time went on and the war worsened and the threat of your rivals loomed over your head you started to notice that the mandalorian would do little things that shaved a little of your stress away, or would brighten you day if only a little. Little treats would show up on your desk, or cups of teas or caf just the way you liked them, walks through the garden would result in a vase of flowers- handpicked and cut with a sharp knife at an angle, delicately- placed in your room. The first time you broke down in front of him, the stress of loosing nearly an entire village not far from where you were to the grievous ways of your enemies broke you to the point of sobbing hysterically and the mandalorian surprised you with his gentleness, as he softly grabbed your arms and made you look up at him, his blue helmet staring down at you as he said, "You will get past this...you...you are a good leader, you care for your people more than yourself, and in the end, that is what will have you coming out on top."

After that night, something changed between the two of you. Instead of following behind you silently, you started walking beside the mandalorian, in meetings instead of letting him stand silently behind you, you started asking his opinions on the battles or if he had any suggestions to help combat. The two of you got closer, and you weren't sure when, but eventually you found yourself calling the mandalorian a friend, and you liked to believe he thought of you as one as well, he at least trusted you enough that he told you his name, which you only used in the private of your quarters or study during your late night talks. When you started to show signs of the stress becoming too much, or that you were nearing another breakdown, he would gently lead you away from whatever you had been doing. More times than not he lead you to the gardens and sat you down as he would tell you stories of his childhood or of his people and culture. One evening, he went as far as to set up a little spot for you to relax and eat a little snack with tea, to give you time away from everything, to give you a break from holding your home on your shoulders. It had been nice, and it helped you clear your thoughts, the gesture had you smiling fully for the first time in months, and it was one that was not quick to fade. As thanks, you had asked Paz what you could do, to which he only replied, "Seeing you smile is enough." So you did, you smiled at him and gently reached out and placed a kiss on the cheek of his helmet.

The smile Paz had gifted you stayed for a few days, your people noticed the happiness and it it seemed to affect all of them, each person growing their own little smiles. Melancholy still hung in the air, but you felt like you had the energy and will power to deal with it now. But as all good things must end, this happiness was ripped from you, when the head of your guard rushed into a meeting with the delegates of the planet, his face was crumpled in worry and he whispered apologies as he reluctantly handed over a letter addressed to you. Your heart pounding, you opened the letter only to freeze at the sight of a photo taken of the moment that had only radiated happiness until now, staring down you only saw yourself pressed close to Paz’s form with lips pressed against his helmet. The moment now felt tainted, and you felt sick to your stomach, the happiness that was shown in the picture gone, only replaced with pure terror. Glancing at the man stood before you, he took the picture and flipped it before handing it back with a somber look. On the back, in deep red ink and scratchy handwriting read:

Now, do you really think courting a mandalorian is going to protect you from your death by my hands? Ill make sure to kill him in front of you so you have to watch as he falls.

Yours loving,

The True King

You hadn't even realized you were shaking, nor breathing heavily, until a gloved had reached into very and took the note away from you. You watched as Paz looked the note over before passing it back to your head guard. He told him something, but you could not hear as your eyes started ringing. Gently Paz helped you stand, before leading you away from the meeting. You didn't care where he was taking you, at that moment you couldn't think straight, couldn't get past the thought of, how did they get so close to take a photo without anyone noticing?

After the letter had been delivered Paz took care to never leave your side, he became more overbearing and involved with planning your schedule. No longer were you allowed in the gardens, or outside for that matter, for the time being, Paz only really allowed you to go to your quarters, your study, and the meeting room. You didn't fight him, too tired from the lasting conflicts and worry over what would happen next. A month went by, and everything quieted, the attacks stopped, and it almost felt like your enemy had gone into hiding. You didn't relax though, the note still whispering in the back of your head. Paz found himself often sleeping in the chair beside your bed, after too many nights of having been awoken to you yelling out his name and finding you rushing to his room to reassure yourself that he was safe.

Then it happened. You knew the quiet was only leading to something, but you weren't prepared to be a woke in the middle of the night to Paz scream to you. It had been the first night you had been able to fall asleep and stay asleep without nightmares of Paz’s death, but you were only thrown into a different nightmare as your eyes few open and you saw Paz fighting off an attacker. You yelled for you to run, and as you hesitated he only growled your name and told you to go, so with a heavy heart you did, you ran. All around the capital you could seem fires burning and hear your guards fighting with silhouettes your tired eyes could not make out in the low light of night. You did not know where to go, only letting your feet carry you, only stopping when you were out of breath. Looking around, you found yourself in the garden, feet from where you gave Paz the soft kiss, the memory still churning out a small amount of happiness, but quickly turned sour once more when the grinning face of the man you loathed most in the world stood from the bench hidden in the shadows.

"My dear, I was hoping you'd come here. I know you are especially fond of the gardens, most certainly this area."

"What do you want Alun? Why wouldn't you stop this fighting? People, my people, our people are suffering!"

He scoffed and turned to look at the city burning around you both. "The people deserve what they are getting for forgetting their true leaders. And you for forgetting what you once were."

"Stop this. You are doing nothing but destroying the planet!"

Alun turned to look at you, small smile curling onto his hate filled face. Slowly he reached out and placed the rose he had picked behind your ear, the thorns pricking your skin, one digging in enough to make a drop of blood run down your ear.

"When I have control again, and we are again together, things will go back to the way they were. I promise you, love. You just need to stop fighting me."

Disgust formed on your face as you stepped back, "We may have been engaged before you fell, but I never loved you. I was forced into that position by you and your father, and I do not regret being apart of how he and you fell from grace. I will never stop fighting you."

"Oh, but I love you, and I will have you, my love."

"Not if I have any say," a voice growled from behind you. Whipping around, relief flooded you at the sight of Paz marching towards where you stood. He was covered in blood from fighting, but seemed like he was uninjured himself much to your relief. But he seemed angry, livid almost as he pushed you behind him, standing toe-to-toe with Alun. "If you want them, you will have to get through me, and I will not stop fighting until my dying breath for them," Paz’s words settled into your chest, warmth flowing through you as the next few second moved in slow motion. Paz reached out, before Alun even had a chance to grab for his weapon. Paz lifted him like a rag doll to his height, making direct eye contact, before growling out, "because I love them, and you will never have them."

And with that said, Paz simply slammed his forehead into Alun's forcefully knocking him unconscious, then carelessly dropping him to the ground where he laid unmoving buise already forming on his forehead. Paz then turned to you and reached for you, but you simply flung yourself onto him. "You're okay, i was so worried, I didn't want to leave you, I was so scared that something would happen and that Id...."

"That you'd, what cyare," Paz whispered as he held you close, arms wrapped around you as if he'd let go and you'd disappear. Looking up and into his helmet's visor you were quiet for a moment, before speaking up softly, "I love you too... I thought I'd never get to tell you that I loved you."

Gently, Paz pressed his forehead against your own, before whispering, "You don't have to worry. I'll always be around to protect you. And," a teasing note coming out in his voice making you smile, "You can tell me how much you love me anytime you want. As long as you don't have anymore previous fiancés out there professing their love to you. I don't think I could hold back from ripping off their heads like I did just now."

Giggling you shook your head, "No more love professions, I promise. Only yours matter."

Everything Tags: @mysticalgalaxysalad @phoenixhalliwell @moodsare @perpetual-fangirl900 @night-snows00 @dumbass-simp-for-fredweasley @stargazingthenightaway @meabravo @just-here-for-the-moment @masteracewindu @litakino

Paz Tags: @bunny-fairy @elinedjarin @shellyc9 @blackmarketmummy @djarin-junk

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[13thbaronzemo]

THE EMPEROR'S NEW CLOTHES: PART 1

Baron Helmut Zemo/F!Reader

Rated E (Explicit)

You are the Sokovian custodian of Castle Zemo, which now belongs to the dissolved nation's neighbors, and the baron himself wants a tour after closing hours.

Disclaimer: Written before FatWS: Ep4 aired and set up some time after his separation from the protagonists and while on the run from the law.

Castle Zemo is one of the only historical Sokovian sites still standing and it now belongs to Czechia. After each of its Balkan neighbors had a slice, the once collapsing state had become more united than it had been in decades. And it had its people to thank for it. The Sokovian diaspora in the Czech Republic tried their best to preserve their eroding history by nourishing their new sovereign state’s interest in it. Among the people attempting to preserve Sokovian culture is the youngest conservator to ever walk the castle grounds: you.

While your age may have led many to assume that what you lacked in experience you made up for it in spirit. However, after asking the security staff to look through last night’s recordings to confirm your ghost sighting, they all seemed to agree that there is such a thing as ‘too much spirit’.

You know what you saw and it was Heinrich Zemo. He seemed to be standing still, almost as if he were posing for a painting. It just so happened that before him, handing illustrious and heavy off the wall was the portrait of the first baron, a golden crown adorning his royal purple hood. While the twelfth baron had died alongside the fourteenth while fleeing Novi Grad, there was nothing to chain his soul to that place anymore. In a universe filled with aliens, androids, and sorcerers, the world you live in might as well be haunted by restless spirits.

Haimo, the security guard and the only person besides yourself on the premises that night, had agreed to stay by your side for a second night. You even made him lend you a walkie-talkie and keep his on. They’ll be two witnesses tonight.

“I’m headed towards the west wing. Keep your eyes on the camera. Over.”

“Got it,” he said through the static. “Over.”

You were careful to walk on the carpet and skip any flimsy floorboard out of fear of spooking the spirit. A living person spooking a dead one? That was a concept you wouldn’t have considered before your first encounter with the twelfth baron had ended so briefly. You had run in the opposite direction when you saw the specter at the end of the hall and the sound of your heels hitting the wall made him disappear into the dark. Tonight, you’d be just as quiet as he was and stay hidden in the shadows.

As you neared the end of the hall, you spoke to him once more. “Haimo, what’s the time? Over”

“Ten to three, boss. Over.”

“I’ll turn it off, but you can’t take your eyes off the screen okay? Pay attention to the painting. Over.”

“Got it. Over.”

Behind the velvet ropes, between two tall windows, and out of the moon’s way, you stood as perfectly still as the painting. In the silver moonlight, the golden shine of the baron and his baroness’s jewels was as blinding as the real things. Just beyond the painting was the royal vault where the royal family jewels lay when they were not out on display. Tonight, you prayed it was Helmut I Zemo’s spirit that stalked the halls and not a burglar searching for the baron’s treasures.

You waited for ten more minutes, but it felt like ten hours. You had been on your feet all day, putting every golden bracelet and precious stone away in vaults and setting up checking every camera, and then double-checking the cameras in the west wing. After ten hours, you hear the floor creak.

Then, another ten hours later, the floor creaks again. However this was, alive or dead, they didn’t know the castle like you did. It couldn’t have been the first baron. Still, you held your breath as the specter you blinked and missed the other night was lit up by the moon tonight. With his face obscured by a royal purple hood and his stride as assured as a leader’s, you swore it had to be him. He stepped on almost every flimsy floorboard, so it couldn’t have been him. Still, you held your breath as he passed your hiding place and skipped the velvet ropes.

He stood there, as either man or spirit, almost as breathless and statuesque as you. And he folded his arms and raised his head, just as the painting did. The only thing missing was the crown atop his head. And his baroness. You tried not to blink, but when you inevitably did, he moved to remove his hood. No, not a hood. His mask. Dark hair and light skin shone in the moonlight. He looked opaque from where you were standing, not translucent at all. That didn’t make him look any less like the man in the painting himself, so you sucked in a breath.

When he moved again, it was to face the shadowy place where you stashed yourself away. He had heard you. Even as you covered your mouth and remained motionless, you had no hope of staying hidden any longer. He moved. Again. He was closing in on you. Oh, he looked so much like Helmut I that you were ready to kneel and ask for a pardon. Or, rather, ready to collapse due to the lack of air in your lungs. Instead of doing the former or the latter, you chose a third option: running to the other end of the corridor. Again.

You were within arm's reach when your heels hit the floor. As you weren't a sprinter or a runner and have been on your feet all day and the following night, you collapsed on the carpet. But, before the baron could catch up, you turned on the walkie-talkie: “Haimo, help me!”

“What? Boss, where are you? Are you still in the west wing? Over”

“Can’t you see me on camera? Can’t you see him?” You screamed, uncaring of human or spirit ears that might hear.

“I can’t see anybody, boss. There’s no movement in the west wing. Over.”

A hand came out of nowhere, covered in the same royal color, and yanked the walkie-talkie away from your fallen form. And what felt like the same slick material was wrapped around the back of your neck. “Tell your friend you’re safe and sound and not in the west wing.” The fabric that covered the fingers holding your head down felt frigid against your already chilled spine. Whatever he was, he wasn’t visible to anyone else but yourself. You had no choice but to comply and cleared your voice before shakily responding to reassure him of this: “Y-yes, milord.”

That official address caught your capturer off guard and you could’ve sworn he seemed to listen up on your neck. “Good.” Nevertheless, he pressed the button and bought the device closer.

“I was just fucking with you. I’m in the bathrooms. In the east wing. Over.”

“Not funny, boss.”

“You were right though,” you spoke, and let a shiver run through you as his fist tightened in the tassels of your hair. “There is no ghost. Over.”

“Have a good one, boss. Over.”

“You did good,” he spoke again, a whisper as chilling and powerful as the wind. “I would hate for us to be interrupted, wouldn’t you? Get up.”

Being allowed to walk on your legs again didn’t mean much when you were being guided by an iron grip. With his hand tangled up in your hair, head facing the floor, he walked you past the velvet ropes and right to the painting he still seemed to have walked out of.

“Blue blood doesn't make one immortal,” He started speaking, snatching you up and straightening your back so that you were facing the royal couple. Then, sliding a gloves hand up your side as the other one slid down your and onto your shoulder, he breathed into your ear from behind. “But it does give one the power to persevere beyond death. My ancestors all lived and died with their wealth, but my parents chose to secure their money in something a little more secure than a vault.” When you gasped, he grabbed onto your other shoulder, smoothing your sleeves. “Yes, I know you’ve been keeping the treasure tucked away, but the Czech state owns this land now. I thank my father every day for our German bank accounts, otherwise I’d be scrambling to survive.” His chest was hot against your back and even the hands holding onto your arms were warm, the heat of them seeping through the gloves. You never heard of a ghost whose touch feels like fire, but his presents, his form pressed against your own, made your spine shiver all the same. “I know it’s late, but I would like a tour. What do you say, my dear? Shall we start with the vault?”

“Yes, s-sir,” you swallowed a scream that threatened to rip out of your throat. The fear of his ripping it out himself was great, but what was greater was the chill of the castle overtaking you once he stepped away from you to give you enough space. Your fingers were trembling as they touched the frame, and it took you a second too long to find the notch in it. Once you did and everything clicked into place, you heard him chuckle behind you.

“Do you need help with that my dear?”

“Thank you, sir,” you struggled not to shake as his hand was placed atop of yours and you both pulled on the frame unlocking the painting from the wall like a door.

“What happened to ‘milord’?” He let go of you and you let go yourself, stepping toward the hidden vault while under his heated gaze. You could feel it at the back of your neck, the memory of his manhandling still lingering there. “I think I prefer it to ‘sir’.”

Introducing the combination, information only you were privy to, was proving to be more difficult under his scrutiny. It was as if the baron himself was watching your every move and you had better make your next one a good one. “Whatever you wish, milord.”

“I wish to see my family’s treasure,” he chuckled, but you couldn’t figure out why he was so amused. “Do you need help with this as well?”

“I got it,” you answered, agitated by his pressuring presence. “I mean,” you cleared your throat as you opened the vault door. “There’s no need to, milord.” Then, turning to him, you offered a small and curtsy on shaking legs.

“Very good, my dear. Now,” he caught you before you collapsed and looped your arm around his own. “What can you tell me about these?”

You looked towards the treasure inside, his dark smirk a bigger strain on your eyes than the shimmering gold in the silver moonlight.

“They were f-forged for the first baron Zemo, Helmut The First. The crown and the chain belonged to him, as you can see in the painting,” You skipped a beat as he squeezed you into the small space with no means to escape. You were so close, your breath fogged up the gold and dimmed the shine of the crown. “H-he often wore it atop his cawl.”

“The purple hood, you mean?” He asked and arrested you with the sight of his masked face. To keep you from creeping away, he let your arm escape the loop but captured your middle in another one. His chest, hot and hard, was against your back once more. “I know it’s not exactly the lord’s garb, but I believe I’ll look just as good in designer clothes. Would you mind if I…?”

“Whatever you wish, milord,” you whispered, all the wind having been knocked out of you as the warmth of his breath, filtered to the fabric of his mask, hit the back of your neck.

“I’m going to need your help this time around,” He removed the crown from the bust bringing it down so that you could easily grab it from his hands. “There is no mirror here, you see.”

“Of course,” you tried not to let it slip through your trembling fingers as he turned to face you fully.

“Of course what?”

“Of course, milord,” you corrected yourself and crowned him, the golden band fitting over the royal purple mask like his royal purple gloves.

“Heavy is the head that wears it, but the crown might be heavier,” he craned his neck right, then left, and, while you couldn’t see it, a smirk shimmered in his deep dark eyes.

You mirrored his mirth with a smile of your own, albeit weak. “It fits you, milord.”

“Father never let me wear it. I was but a boy back then,” he touched the sides of it where the band and his temple met. “It was summer the last time I saw it. We’d always come to the castle in August. The stone walls keeps the place cool in the summer months.”

“You had to grow into it.”

“Do you believe I’ve grown into it, my dear?” His hands were on your shoulders, stroking your skin through the shirt.

“Yes, milord.”

“Show me,” he squeezed down, fingers forceful now. “Kneel.”

He needn’t push you down, your knees already buckled at his command. Yet you were still shoved to the floor.

“Would you serve me?” He demanded, glowering down at you like the grand painting always would, with a dark demeanor and a golden crown atop a royal purple cawl.

“Yes, milord,” you breathed out the little air still in your lungs. And, determined to show your devotion to him, to the barony and all of Sokovian history, you fondled the front of his hands with two sweaty, unsure hands. His hands slid up your shoulder and smoothened back your hair, so you were more confident when you unclothed him.

“Is this how you plan to serve me?”

“Whatever you wish.” The harnessed of his crotch and the way he pushed it into your palms told you everything you needed to know. He was eager, but, as you shifted your trembling thigh, you realized that it was the both of you. “Lord Zemo.”

“I wish I were fucking that pretty little peasant mouth,” he heaved, heat coming off of his crotch as you uncovered it, pulling down his pants. Brushing back all the hair out of your eyes, he twisted it into a bun at the top of your head.

When you opened your mouth and rolled down your tongue like a red carpet, you finally freed his cock. As it landed on the saliva-slick surface, he sighed: "I wish you'd take my cock deep in your throat, as deep as it can go." Then, taking himself in his hand by the hilt, he slid inside. "And watch your teeth."

Your answer to this was to lock your lips around the head. It was hot, salty, and sweet, like a kiss stolen in a wet dream. Once you began suckling it, his hips started snapping. You've never heard of a ghost grunting before, but you've listened to men lose their sanity between a woman's lips. He was holding himself back, halting his hips, yet his words flowed freely

"Have you done this before, my dear? Have you ever served a man like this?" The man mirage called you closer, the hand at the bun bunched up atop your head forcing you forward. "Have you ever served a baron before?"

He already knew the answer, but you bobbed your head and blabbered a response anyway. No, you have not. You've served the barony for your entire custodian career, but this was as close that you've ever gotten to actual royalty. And it just so happened to be the baron himself, wearing gold and wrapped in the royal colors. Your knees hurt and so did your jaw, but you were his to do as he pleased.

"No, I didn't think so," he grunted, his voice gravely as he instructed you. "Breathe through your nose. I'm going to fuck your pretty little peasant face."

Holding onto his hips for support, you surrendered to him your entire skull. You couldn't even moan anymore, couldn't even move on your own. All you could do was gag each time his spongy, sweet, and salty cockhead hit the tender spot at the back of your throat. Through the tears, you saw him watching you through the eyes sockets, eyes searing through your soul. He watched himself wrecking you, fucking your face, and watched you being wrecked.

"Good girl," he growled, no longer a man or a ghost, but rather a lion. "That's a good girl." He was in a frenzy, fucking you fast and furiously. All you could do is take what was given to you and gargle. There was spit, there were tears, but the baron drove his dick into you like you were the most desirable damsel he's ever seen. "You serve me so well. Such a good girl. Such a good-"

All of a sudden, he stopped short of spilling down the throat he tore open. You felt the trepidation in the way it twitched, but it was ripped away from you as he retreated his cock from your mouth.

"Fuck."

As you coughed and blinked the tears away, you saw it in his hands, drowning in your drool, swollen and red. He squeezed down on it and seemed determined to contain it and all the come that was supposed to be swallowing.

"Get up," he heaved, his chest growing and shrinking under the security of his shirt. He was a man after all. "I want to you, but I don't want to fuck a peasant pussy," he held out his hand, the glove dirty with your drool and his precum. After you took it and stood on lame legs as he held onto you tight, he directed you to the diadem still in the vault. "I want to make love to a baroness."

Your mind was still in a haze when he sat the diadem atop your head. You couldn't make out your heavy breathing over the sound of his own. Still, you looked up, his crown as steady as his stare, and saw what must've been your reflection in the golden surface.

"There she is," he tilted your chin, thumb stroking the skin. "My beautiful baroness." As one handheld onto your face, the other snuck under your skirt and pushed your panties aside. You must've been so hot, so moist, you seeped through his gloves. Of course, you invited them in, those intrusive fingers, moaning when they moved to part your labia. "What is my lady's wish?"

"Make love to me," you whined, licking your lips at the thought of his tasty thick cock all up in your cunt. "My lord."

"Whatever you wish," he dropped your chin and lifted your leg. Then, as you tried to balance yourself on the other, he lifted it, hooking both of them around his hips.

You scrambled to secure your arms around his shoulders as he slammed you against the vault door. It hurt, but not nearly as much as the need burning in your core. You informed him of this pain through your panting, a pathetic performance, and only stopped when you felt the relief of him ramming it in. Hitching you up with his hands under your thighs, he caught his head on your pussy lips and then dropped you onto his dick.

"Oh, there she is," he mouthed at the side of your sweat-slick neck through his mask. "There's my pretty little pussy," his voice was strained as he slammed inside you over and over and over again. "I want to slip it on like a sleeve, slip it on whenever I'm homesick and live in it for a week."

"My Lord!"

"I'll take you far away from this dying place! Have you ever seen Paris? Madrid? Berlin? That's where we'll live! We'll travel like bandits and live like kings!"

You were delirious and he wasn't doing any better, drilling into the depths of you with a desperation only a living, breathing man could understand. The sound of your skins slapping against each other, the myriad of moans, they all echoed through the corridors of Castle Zemo and you hoped this haunting could go on for all eternity.

"M-my Lord, I'm going to-"

"Yes, come with me, milady! Come with me, my baroness!"

Following his orders was as natural to you as it was to the moon to rise every night. Squeezing your thighs tight and raising your face towards the stone skies, you came around Baron Zemo's cock and collapsed in his arms.

When he unwinded your legs from him like a belt, you were finally awake. The chill of the vault door made your spine shiver and there was a hot pool of come in your panties that threatened to spill down your thighs.

"Thank you for indulging in my fantasies, my dear." The chest your head was rearing against rumbled. "I hope I fulfilled all of yours."

"Baron Helmut III Zemo," you slurred out, too exhausted to enunciate each syllable. "You are supposed to be serving time in Germany-"

"Boss, where are you?" Haimo spoke through the static.

"That's your cue," the baron handed the device back to you. "Tell him you are on your way back and definitely not in the hands of a dashing criminal mastermind."

You searched his dark eyes behind the purple sockets. "Traveling like bandits? Living like kings?"

"Men say the damndest things while in the trawls of passion." He stroked your soaked cheek and spoke softly. "I'll be back tomorrow night to spin you another tale."

Blinking up at him, barely awake or alive, you answered Haimo. "I'm heading back. Over."

"Very good, my Lady. Very good."

[ladyeliot]

It will always be you

Prequel: Stay with me

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: The snap has happened, the return of Wakanda has not been as you all expected, but now you have to face reality, and you just can't stop thinking about him, about Tony.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Word count: 4101

A/N: Post Infinity War. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader Powers: Psionic. You use psionic force to track any sentient being. You also create psychic shields to protect yourself. You can project psychic force bolts which have no physical effects but which can affect a victim's mind, causing them pain.

Life is a continuous struggle of choices that you have to make without stopping to think for a second. It is said that hope is the last thing to be lost, probably because the choice you made almost left you without it. You must also learn that happiness is the last thing to be found, probably because the choice you have made has made you unhappier than you will ever be. Your life has been full of choices, you might have regretted many of them, but you decided at the time to make them, so you never allowed yourself to regret your actions, until that day.

Three weeks after Thanos snapped, hope was completely lost. The new facility has been uncharacteristically silent, no one has been able to say more than two words in a row, and you had barely managed to say one since your return from Wakanda. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Rhodes, Bruce Banner and you, those were the surviving Avengers, the ones that life had given you a second chance, but it didn't really feel like one.

You were in your old room, old because two years ago one of your decisions had taken you away from that place, yes, you were against the Sokovia Accords, that had led you to take the side of the Captain and to fight against the side of Iron Man, who had been the person who had saved you from the madness that your powers had generated in your mind. But even if you had turned against him, you knew you owed him everything. Evidently this was something he didn't understand, which led to a wide rift that had never been bridged on either side, and which led to a breakdown in your relationship of closeness.

Every corner of that room had been kept exactly as you had left it that night when you fled with Wanda. Your drawings together with the charcoals scattered on the desk, the book 'In Search of Lost Time' by Marcel Proust on the bedside table and that bracelet that Tony had given you for your 26th birthday that you had left next to the open jewellery box on the bed. It was really painful to see all of this, knowing that those facilities would probably never be what they once were, that Wanda would not suddenly appear at your door, that you would never sit around the dinner table and that Tony would not occupy the armchair next to your bed to try to cheer you up after a mission that hadn't gone so well. You didn't know whether frustration was taking over the fear and sadness or whether you just didn't know how to control your feelings on that occasion.

The days were long, each of you working in silence trying to make sense of what had happened, looking for a solution that would never come to the problem. You shared the hours, but the solitude that enveloped you was too austere to realise that there was a person by your side. You didn't know Thanos' location, however, even if you did, especially if you did, it had become clear that you could not stand alone against his entire army.

"Would you like some?" asked Natasha offering you a plate with a veggie sandwich on it, which you took with an almost soundless 'thank you'.

Yes, actually that had been your first word in five days, since you said goodnight to Bruce last Sunday, food and sleep were not high on your priorities, especially when you spent the night using your telepathic detection trying to find some sign of life that would make you believe Tony was alive, but it was useless. Your psionic senses allowed you to track any sentient being, you were able to scan large areas, but your ability did not address the entire universe.

That night your spirits seemed to be running low to the ground, three weeks without having achieved anything that would allow you to have any lucidity in your plans was too long as the situation stood. You could hear in the background a soft murmur coming from a conversation between Natasha and Steve, but you weren't really paying attention to it, it was all in your thoughts. But at that instant, an inner burst made them evaporate. A signal came into your brain, a psionic emanation that alerted you to the presence of a spaceship entering the stratosphere, with a fixed direction, yours. You rose from your chair, standing upright, capturing the attention of the people around you. You closed your eyes, heightening all your senses, taking in all the information that was coming to you, at that moment you felt it. You opened your eyes and looked at them.

"He's here," were the only words you could utter before you rushed outside. Your companions soon followed your path, asking questions to explain what was happening, but your inner euphoria prevented you from saying a single word.

That ship appeared above you as you raced across the garden, night was falling relentlessly and you could only glimpse a halo of light that seemed to direct the ship as it landed delicately on the wide grassy esplanade. The five of you paused, taking in the scene, discovering how a side door opened to project a flight of stairs. When you saw his face for the first time your lungs deflated, letting out all the air they had accumulated over a long period of time. Your body went rigid and you didn't react until Steve ran past you and approached the ship to help him down.

He looked terrible, it was evident in every facial feature and in his body movements, you knew what you had been through, but you had no idea what Tony had been through since his disappearance in New York, although you could get a pretty good idea. Before your eyes were Steve and Tony in custody, reunited again, after all that had happened, none of it mattered, at least not to you, and perhaps you had a vain hope that it didn't matter to anyone else either. Even so you didn't know how to act when your eyes connected with his, for a slight moment you wanted to approach him, offer him a hug and tell him that you were relieved to discover that he was there, with you, after all, but you chose to stay where you were, next to Natasha.

It wasn't until you headed inside that the stiffness disappeared from your body. A whispered 'are you okay' from Steve made you react again and pay attention to Natasha's words that were projecting all the information gathered during those days.

"The governments are destroyed," she reported as she projected images showing the missing, like Wilson, Maximoff and Parker, among others, "the working parts are trying to do a census, and it looks like he did it. He did what he said he would do. Thanos wiped out 50% of all living things."

Silence echoed around you, you were sitting in an armchair, somewhat away from the other members, playing with your fingers, trying not to look up, until he spoke.

"Where is he now?" asked Tony. "Where?"

"We don't know," Steve informed him from beside you, sitting at a table. "He opened a portal and went through it. We looked for Thanos for three weeks, with deep space scanners," Steve looked at you, "and satellites, and we found nothing." He looked at Tony. "Tony, you fought him."

"What are you talking about?" asked Tony from his wheelchair. "I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the wizard gave away the store. That's what happened, there's no fight..."

You took a breath and sighed, because you could contemplate what was about to happen right now, the nerves were there along with the negativity and failure of some of the superheroes on that planet and others, and you knew it could explode at any moment.

"Tony, I'm going to need you to focus..." Steve repeated again hoping that Tony would offer him some clue as to the whereabouts of Thanos.

"I needed you," interrupted Tony in a raised tone. "as in past tense.  That trumps what you need. It's too late, buddy. Sorry." He used a second of his silence to look at Steve and another second to look at you, who stood beside him. You took in most of the feelings hidden in his gaze, and none of them were positive or forgiving. "You know what I need? I need a shave," he tried to get out of the wheelchair, taking everything on the table in his stride. "I don't believe I ever remember telling you this..." he ripped out the IV that connected the drip to his left arm. "To the living and the dead, What we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not," he looked back at you and Steve repeatedly. "That's what we needed!”

The discussion continued, avoiding an upset Tony explaining everything he thought about the current and past situation, ignoring the suggestions Rhodes was giving him to calm down and take his seat again.

"[...] Bunch of tired old wheels!" he pointed at Steve. "I got nothin' for you, Cap! I've got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options! Zero, zip, nada. No trust - liar."

Almost ipso facto he turned to you ripped off the reactor prostrate on his chest and handed it to Steve in his hand, leaving those present virtually speechless, if you still had any left.

"Here, take this. You'll find him, if you put that on. You hide-"

After those words you gazed again into his eyes full of resentment at the past, before his body could take it no more and he collapsed in the middle of the room.

In the hours that followed, you were the shadow of a ghost gazing at him from a distance from the door frame of one of the recovery rooms in the new complex. On the one hand fearing his reaction against you when he woke up, while on the other hand wanting to hear it because you knew that sooner or later it would come but you wanted it to come as soon as possible so that you could face it. Those words she had said to Steve were harsh, but they were really nothing to what you expected might happen. It seemed absurd at the time to have entertained the idea that it might have been forgotten.

"Bruce gave him a sedative," Rhodes said, looking up at you, who were leaning against the doorframe. "He'll be unconscious for the rest of the day. Do you want to sit down?"

"No...I'd better..." but Rhodes didn't allow you to finish your words, as he had risen from the armchair next to Tony and offered it to you. "Thank you."

The door to the room ajar to offer you some more privacy. As you turned your gaze towards him you realised the fragility his body conveyed in those moments, he had spent weeks wandering through space not knowing if he was going to get the chance to return home again and yet he had been able to stay alive and find himself there. You closed your eyes and settled back on the couch, you remembered the first time you did that with Tony, he had spent too much time without sleep after the events after the Chitauri invasion, he could barely sleep because of the nightmares and he begged you to stop them every night, so with your eyes closed you concentrated and invaded his mind with caution releasing the tension you found in it and giving him the peace he needed. When you opened your eyes again, her expression seemed to have changed, she seemed to have found some relief inside her, that fact made you smile. But a knock on the door woke you up.

"We need to talk," Steve's words sounded serious.

A new piece of information about Thanos' whereabouts came as a surprise, but for you the surprise came right after.

"Wait, is this some kind of punishment or something?" you said completely dumbfounded, just outside the room where Tony was, with what Steve was proposing. "Why me?"

"Because we need someone to stay with Tony," he said calmly crossing his arms.

"Is it because I'm the smallest of the whole team? Because I could really knock you all out right now with the blink of an eye," you said crossing your arms too.

"It's because Tony needs you," Steve lowered his tone, "and you need him."

There was nothing but truth in those words. You didn't know if Tony really needed you, but what you had assumed was that you'd needed him for a long time, and you'd put a lot of things before that need, creating your close relationship to go to shit, basically.

"I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you on this mission," Steve said frankly. "And he wouldn't forgive me either if I said that happened."

You lowered your face as you nodded, accepting his words and the job you had been given.

"Be very careful," you said before Steve disappeared from in front of you to take a path that you had no idea what could be in store for them.

From that moment on, the hours went by really slowly, you took your position in that armchair again, you needed to have a clear mind, you couldn't continue martyring yourself with all the events that had happened, so you started reading 'In Search of Lost Time', that book that had been forgotten on the bedside table since you left that place. News was nil, you barely got a sign of what might be happening and you knew it would probably be days before you got it. 

Night was falling on the compound again, Tony was barely making any sign of waking up, which also gave you time to consider how the situation would play out, and various possibilities for coping with it. Some of his belongings had been salvaged from the ship, and his helmet, or rather what was left of it, stared at you from the dresser in the room. Without having a reason in mind you approached him, causing a blue light to suddenly flash across his eyes, showing you his figure in the middle of the room.

"Is it on?" a figure of a seated, completely haggard Tony appeared before your eyes. "Hey, Ms. Y/L/N, Y/N," your brow furrowed, but you approached his reflection. "If you find this footage don't put it on social media, it'll be really tearful," his words brought a sad smile to your face. "I don't know if you'll watch these videos. I don't even know if you're still... Oh god, I hope so..." there was a silence from his words, but you could see him bring his hands to his face, something inside you cracked. "I guess it's easier to do this if you know the chances of seeing you again are practically nil," something inside you made your heart shrink. "I probably should have realised this a lot sooner," he fell silent, "yeah, but I was busy trying not to hate you too much, you know, when you decided to abandon me and choose the other side," exhaustion almost prevented him from keeping his eyes open. "Anyway, anyway that made me realise how important you had been to me," he let his gaze wander, "I tried to be there for you ever since I met you and... god, this is getting too depressing," he ran his hand over his face. "I just want you to know that I wish you were here, because you're the only person I'd like to share my last hours with," he nodded slightly, you knew what he was trying to say with those words, which made your eyes water. "Don't feel bad about this, I mean, if you stay prostrate for a couple of weeks... and then move on with immense guilt..." he hid his face in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes, you wiped away a tear that ran down your cheek keeping the bitter smile you had been wearing all along. "I want you to know... when I've fallen asleep, it will be like the nights we spent together. I'm fine. All right," he gestured towards you. "I'll dream of you. Because it will always be you."

Suddenly, as if nothing had happened, his image disappeared in front of your eyes, leaving you with hundreds of feelings invading your body and mind. You looked up and there he was, still there, sleeping pleasantly, barely knowing what had just happened. You hurriedly wiped away the last tear running down your cheek and sat back down, putting your feet up on the couch, unable to take your eyes off him. Perhaps those thoughts were drawn from his most desperate moments, believing that his life was about to come to an end, perhaps he was unwilling to show them to you now that he had resumed the course of his life, so even though it was not possible you tried to send them to a hidden place in your mind.

You had hardly slept in those three weeks, your mind hadn't rested for days and you didn't know why, but finding yourself curled up in that armchair next to Tony was giving you back the tranquillity your body hadn't known for too long. It was impossible to stop your eyelids from closing, on the contrary you were willing them to do so and for sleep to warmly invade your body, no matter how long you could stay asleep. That's how it happened, making the hours pass without you even noticing. 

Like a little gust of wind, something in your body made the light enter through your eyelashes. Slowly you opened your eyes, feeling in various parts of your body a tightness due to the position in which you had fallen asleep in that armchair. You discovered that a woollen blanket covered your limbs, but what kept you alert was the bed next to you was completely empty. Tony wasn't there. You jumped up, looking around, the bedroom door was ajar and Iron Man's helmet was missing.

"Tony?" you asked, raising your voice, stepping out into the hallway. "Tony! Where are you?"

You barely heard an answer, so you were thankful those powers were within you, you stopped in the middle of the corridor and closed your eyes, your receptors picked up a signal coming from downstairs, it was him. You found him leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes closed as he tried to stand. You ran to him, grabbing his arm to hold him up.

"What do you think you're doing?" you said, leading him to the nearest armchair in the living room.

You discovered that he had shaved, taken a shower and was wearing one of his Tom Ford suits that were so recognisable to you. That meant he had been wandering around the house unsupervised for over an hour without waking you up. You knelt down next to him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked with a worried look on your face as you contemplated that he was extremely tired. "Bruce gave a set of instructions for you to follow, you can't just walk around..."

"It was your turn?" he cut you off with an angry tone. "Be my babysitter? How did you do it? Did you draw lots?" his countenance was serious, you could still see the puffiness in his eyes and his face fully dehydrated. "Whoever draws the shortest stick gets to look after poor Stark, all right, listen..."

"No! You listen to me," you cut him off, raising your tone above his, standing up and resting your hands on each armrest "Tony, we all lost. We all fought and lost, none of us made it," your face was three feet above his. "So now all we can do is try, in some completely illogical way, to move the situation forward. And if we can't, at least look to the future by doing our best to honour those we have lost."

Silence flooded over you.

"So please don't make the situation more complicated," you continued, lowering your tone, almost begging him. "If I've stayed with you it's because Steve has made me understand some things, because yes, it wasn't really my intention to stay with you from the start, but then I realised that if anyone had to stay with you it was me. I realised that if I had to risk my life again I didn't want to go on the mission, because that would mean never seeing you again.And I've also realised that I've needed you for a long time, that I'm finally by your side and I have no intention of separating from you. Whether you like it or not." Tony cut his gaze with yours by ducking it, but brought his right hand over yours.

That gesture provoked you to bring your other hand to his face, placing a gentle caress on his cheek.

"I know there are a lot of things we need to talk about, but one thing we do have is time," you explained as Tony intertwined his fingers with yours. "So please, don't do anything more stupid and don't disappear," maybe it was the atmosphere generated by the situation, but you risked saying the next words. "Because it will always be you."

Tony closed his eyes a little regretfully, a little embarrassedly, and brought his free hand to his face.

"I knew you saw that," he added calmly removing his hand from his face. "Well, at least I've saved myself from having to repeat it in person."

"I'm not sure I got it right," you said falsely. "You know, there was a lot of interference, and besides, I couldn't really understand what you were saying, so..."

"Sorry, there was only one pass for the film," he said wryly which caused you to smile widely as you rediscovered that the old Tony was still hidden in it. "We won't know when there will be a revival."

"Too bad, I really liked that movie," you sat down on the armrest without letting go of his hand and looking up at him.

"Really?" he asked for the first time modestly, and putting aside all the irony that surrounded the situation.

"Totally," you nodded, trying to express all the many feelings through your eyes.

Silence again kept you company, until Tony somewhat uncomfortably broke it.

"I suppose you know that by now I would have kissed you and created a fully effective plan to make love to you for hours until you begged me to stop in pleasure," he stated lamely, "although I think if you give me a couple of hours..."

"All right, Don Juan," you cut him off with a chuckle, "we'd better leave all that for later, and I'll take you back to bed now."

"I think it's a good start if you take me to bed," he continued with his insinuations.

You got up from the armrest and helped him put his arm around your shoulders, even though he repeatedly told you he could walk unaided. 

"Have we heard from the team?" he asked, slowly climbing the steps of the ladder.

"Soon," you said with a halo of hope. 

You definitely made it back to the room, having made it successfully through the journey. You helped him get rid of the shoes and shirt that his pride had forced him to wear, but which now made no sense when he was going back to bed.

"See, you're finally going to get what you wanted, I'm undressing you," you said jokingly causing a smile to appear on Tony's face as he lay back down. "You rest, I'll be here. I'll always be here."

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[accio-victuuri]

Hi can you provide the link to read manhuas you prefer?

Hello Anon! OMG Manhua/Manhwa Rec! Here we go! I’ve only been reading for 2-3 months (consistently), so this will be pretty limited. I will link to the legit sites. A google search will direct you to others.

Most of these are WIPs and some, sadly, are discontinued. I won’t add TGCF or MDZS here cause those are already a given. 👇🏼

• Body Electric by Dong Ye ( completed, supernatural, lots of trigger warnings and plotty )

Ba Song is the hotshot cop who’s been handed an open-and-shut case: the suicide of a young woman. Except… who commits suicide by stabbing their own body and strangling themself? There's only one man who can help him with this mystery — Bo Shan, the renowned forensic pathologist with a severe and cold personality. What's more, his body produces bioelectricity, allowing him to acutely sense bodily injury with his touch. There's an electric current between them, and each touch sizzles with energy

If you like crime dramas and stories where they solve mysterious cases then this is for you. The romance is subtle, and their relationship is not insta-love. strangers to colleagues to friends to lovers trope. This also discusses alot of issues the society has that will make you stop and think. Ba Song is really the honorable MC in here who always wants to help people and do good. While Bo Shan is the reluctant one but deep inside, he wants to make a difference too. I wish they would make a donghua or live action out of this.

• 30 year old by S-Monkey - ( ongoing, age difference, blind dates, slice of life)

Charlie Wei is a single and handsome executive. He’s also a closeted gay guy who’s been on way too many bad blind dates with women. Charlie’s still hung up on his ex-boyfriend James and is… gasp, 30! Charlie’s family thinks he’s straight and too old to be without a wife! During another bad blind date, Charlie meets the flirty Ethan, who both annoys and intrigues him. Can Charlie finally come out and find true love with Ethan or will he continue on his streak of bad blind dates?

The cover looks melodramatic but it’s really not. This is so funny! I read this because people were saying it reminded them of BoXiao. And yes, there are moments here that remind me of them, but it’s more like an AU of BoXiao. I stayed up late trying to get caught up in the chapters and you won’t realize it cause it’s just that good. I love seeing the older MC loosening up and being more of himself. and the younger one being more responsible in his career. They just become better versions of themselves because of each other. It’s so sweet!

• I ship me and my Rival - by Pepa ( ongoing, comedy, reads like a meta )

This follows the adventures of Wei Yanzi, a third-rate actor in the Chinese entertainment industry, stumbles onto a shipping fandom for himself and another actor (Gu Yiliang) while trying to escape from the flame wars and negativity. He's so taken with this group of fans who actually see him as a good guy instead of an enemy/rival of Gu Yiliang that he falls head-first into fandom and becomes actively involved in trying to provide shipping fuel and the fans' daily dose of fluff.

IF THERE IS ONE thing you will read here, let it be this. It is hilarious. If you are a CP fan you will relate so much and it’s a good time. It just shows how people who think are rivals can actually be really good friends in real life. What we see is not always what it seems. and people will interpret things based on their bias. The MC here is so dramatic! how his inner feelings/reactions were drawn will make you laugh.

• Path to You - by Sinran (completed, slice of life, age gap fluff and comedy )

When almost college dropout Jensen attempts to drink away his problems, unemployed Nathaniel suddenly pukes on him and ruins his night. As an apology, Nathaniel offers to help Jensen with his studies. Despite Jensen's difficulties in getting along with people, the two become friends and something deeper begins to grow between them

The story is so soft. If you want something with mild angst/misunderstandings— then pick this. I love the progression of their relationship and how they take care of each other. There are other themes showed here other than the romance.

• Red Candy - by Hanse (completed season one with a cliffhanger, explicit scenes, assassins )

Shihyeon, aka “Red Candy,” is a secret agent whose code name comes from bathing in the blood of his marks on dangerous missions. Shihyeon’s tasked with seducing and obtaining intel from Hajun, a hot college professor. Shihyeon can disarm enemies, but didn’t expect to be disarmed himself by Hajun’s own tight body. Now Shihyeon’s caught between loyalty to his spy agency and Hajun. Can Red Candy survive the incoming wave of enemies and still indulge in the sweet ecstasy of Hajun’s embrace?

THIS STRESSED ME OUT MAAAN. Wow. I loved this. That season one cliffhanger. It’s definitely up there as my favorite. If you think about it, the tropes are really not original. An assassin is sent to shadow a person and they develop a relationship. That simple. But NOOOOO! There are so many things going on. The Main mystery plot, Their relationship, their shared past plus you have other sketchy secondary characters. And did i mention explicit scenes? Lots of them. I want this two to have a happy ending!!!

• Lone Swan - by Chu Man (discontinued, cultivation, star crossed lovers)

After losing his memory, Yiqiu Shen, a disciple from the decent sect meets a very special man named Luofeng Yan, who is the leader of the evil Divine Wind Cult. When escaping and conflicting with Yan, Shen gradually finds his original self as well as his previous love back. Together they rip off the facade of the martial world and reveal the hidden true

I didn’t want to add a discontinued story here, with no novel as a source material but this one made an impact on me. so. yeah. THE ART. breathtaking. The plot = layered. There are times I don’t even know who is telling the truth. It had so much potential and i hope it will get picked up again at some point. People rec this to those who enjoyed TGCF and MDZS, and they are right. 👍🏼

• Dragon in Distress by Si Wang Wen Hua - ( ongoing, dragons, past life, lost power, fantasy )

This is a story about a little Eastern green dragon and a little Western black dragon playing together.

The synopsis is pretty simple if you look at it but this one is pretty interesting. and surprisingly funny. tinie AoAo is so cute! 🤍 the other MC has tsundere tendencies tho. Lots of lore and more truths to uncover as the story progresses. I’m not giving it enough justice with how i’m reccing it, but if you like dragons and fantasy — give this a go.

• Breaking through the clouds 2: Swallow the Sea - Huaishang (ongoing, based on a novel, crime, drama, cases)

Wu Yu, a newcomer of the Public Security Bureau, is gentle and frail. He doesn’t care about the difficulties posed by Bu ZhongHua, his strict boss, and only wants to stay in the background to be paid on time with enough for food. However, no one knows that this young man’s head is targeted by top drug traffickers for a large bounty or that this courageous young man has once slaughtered the dragon of the abyss. With a chain of interlocking cases, a series of troubles come one after another. Can the two people work together to survive through the difficulties?

Do you see a pattern with me? lol. I like crime themes. This one is the same and by the looks of it, the cases they solve will take longer to unravel. I haven’t read the novel it’s based on yet so i’m just going with how the manhua is progressing. I like it when Wu Yu turns full on action-mode and when ZH takes care of him. Plus it helps that they are both gorgeous. I’ll get back this with a proper link.

• Where the Wind Stays - by Yusa (completed season one, curses, demons, possession, timeskip, explicit scenes)

To break an ancient curse that plagues the royal bloodline, young Prince Tasara is destined to be sacrificed in death. Nara is enlisted as a palace servant to carry out the prince’s execution when the time comes. But he develops a soft spot for the cursed prince, and after committing an atrocious and unforgivable act against Tasara, Nara is desperate to right his wrongs. Soon, their lascivious relationship that had been kept under wraps tests his resolve. Will Nara be tempted away from his original mission? There’s no telling how far he would go to earn Tasara’s forgiveness.

This story broke my brain, in a good way. I don’t wanna say much cause it will spoil the story. It’s the type that you gave to see and suffer through yourself. I am excited for what happens in season II!!!

Honorable Mentions:

I’m placing these here cause I have only read a few chapters and tho I liked them, I wanna read more before reccing it in full. 👍🏼

• I accidentally saved the Jinghu’s enemy

• Global Examination

• Monster entertainment

• Demon Apartment

And that’s it! Hope enjoy Anon! 😊

[lovehotelreservation]

(Re)spite

Summary: Hathe and Emet-Selch needed a break.

For Hathe, it was to preserve her energy and ease her nerves before ascending The Ladder for the daunting task of putting an end of Vauthry.

As for Emet-Selch?

He just needed for the glint of that painfully familiar shard to stop tormenting him so.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: WoL!OC/Emet-Selch

Continuation to “Mea Culpa”

BEEP BEEP SAD GRANDPA SEXINGZ ON THE WAY !!!

THANKS SO MUCH TO MY LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THIS BLESSEDLY ANGSTY OPPORTUNITY!!!

----------------

It just wasn’t the same.

There was a time when Emet-Selch set his eyes upon the Warrior of Light as something more than just a pawn in his plan, more than a fascinating subject in his observation of the mortals within the First.

An era long lost, but one he yearned so dearly to return to--it was during those blessed bygone days when he mockingly called out to the savior of the realm as not “hero”, but Azem.

As much as he wanted to deny it, he preferred truth over delusion.

The shard of his beloved Azem was here, lingering within the possession of the Warrior of Light.

Hathe.

But now, as he found himself lingering around the proximity of The Ladder in the mortals’ ongoing efforts to thwart Vauthry’s plans while the Kholusian sun mercilessly bore down upon him, his eyes were not softened with affection as he gazed towards her, but fixed in a scrutinizing stare.

It just wasn’t the same.

Hathe’s aether.

Corrupted cracks had since formed during her adventures in the First, all because of her misplaced faith in the Crystal Exarch.

Honestly, for all the glares and huffs that he received from her, it truly was baffling that she did not do the same to The Crystarium’s leader.

His lips were beginning to form a pout from this biased treatment.

“How are you not boiling in that thing?”

But then his lips curled into a grin as his gaze shifted to the eyes of the inquiring voice.

Lounging beneath the shade of one of the old workshops was Hathe, who retreated to this distant corner of The Ladder to preserve her energy before the ascent up to Mt. Gulg while the other Scions and the Eulmorans worked together to get the Talos running once again.

Clicking his tongue in a tsk, Emet-Selch threw his arms open wide in overexaggerated faux shock as he remarked, “My, my, hero--how brazen of you.” 

He approached where she sat in a saunter, crossing between the distinct line on the pavement to where the blazing sunlight treaded no further into the cool shade as he continued, his voice donning a playful innocence, “Did you wish for me to strip for you so badly?” Tilting his head, he pressed a thoughtful finger against his cheek with a smirk as he purred, “Have you missed my warmth in your bed that much?”

A roll of her eye and a sigh out of her painted lips.

“I should have just stayed quiet and enjoyed the peace.” Shaking her head, her arms folded over her chest as she reclined further back against the wall. Her eyes shut, hoping he would take this as cue to leave her alone.

But the sudden presence that appeared right by her side entailed otherwise.

As did him crouching down, a silent affirmation of his intentions to stay.

Not even the sensation of gloved fingertips cradling her chin had her look towards him, let alone fluttering her eyelid open to perceive his existence.

“Oh come now, you act like my presence hasn’t enriched your life for the better--”

He drew closer to her.

“--truly, wouldn’t you prefer I over the Exarch?”

The heat of his breath fanning over her ear never failed to make her shudder, a sensation that she was ever reluctant to enjoy.

She had a feeling as to where this was going. Though her better judgment would have her shoo him away before matters progressed further--especially given their relatively close proximity to the rest of the Scions and the others--it was either indulging in pleasure or quietly stew in thought over both the task of sending Vauthry crashing down while dealing with the Light that was poisoning her aether.

But that didn’t mean she was going to be that compliant with the man who was meant to be her nemesis.

And thus her eye opened, the sight of which made him wish she didn’t have to keep that eyepatch of hers on.

Azem’s eyes were among the features he cherished most about her after all.

But as ever the contrast between his lost love to the fragmented soul who stood before him, she huffed in defiance, “I’d prefer you let me relax before I pick up the pieces of your meddling.”

Her tone was soft, but the irritation laced around each word was as prickly as could be.

Emet-Selch only smirked in response.

“Meddling I object to, but letting you relax--” His thumb traced over her lips, caring little for the smudge of rouge that stained the whites of his glove--if anything, he relished it.

Continuing on, he kept her right in his sights as he tsked haughtily, “--honestly, by now you should know to be more direct with me on with your desires, hero.” 

The distance separating them closed further as he drew his thumb away, eliminating the space between his face and hers until their lips were barely an ilm apart as he mused, “Has anything else even come close to having that beautifully battleworn body of yours be at ease like my touch?”

She expected a kiss next.

But ever full of surprises, Emet-Selch only smirked as he teased, “Save for those ruffians who have felt the might of a keg of ale smashed upon their heads during those bratty youthful days of yours, of course.”

Hathe’s eye narrowed with sheer annoyance. “Gods, you really need to shut up.”

And it was with those huffed words that her hands cupped his face as she brought his lips to hers in a kiss.

A kiss for distraction.

Hathe and the tumultuous road that she was due to tread any moment now.

Emet-Selch and a yearning that he never could bring himself to ever relinquish in the days that have passed.

As delightful as it was to indulge in the gorgeously toned physique of the renowned hero during their many trysts in the nights since passed in her personal suite, it was still an utterly peculiar experience for his fingers to roam over physical familiarity with a soul that thought him to be a stranger, an enemy.

Ever more the thorns that had long formed around his heart embedded further and further.

In the end, she was just to be a vessel to enact his life’s work, his purpose to continue and carry on the will of his people.

And yet, he still found himself being so attentive, doting even, to Hathe’s pleasure as he shifted her clothes around--being mindful to not rip, else risk being punched back to The Source as she warned--, his lips kissing over her breasts, his tongue skillfully lapping over her nipples while his gloved fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, seeking to press and caress over her panties.

A warrior like her could handle some roughhousing, as he would often tease while fucking her into the mattress during his numerous late night visits to The Pendants.

But here, in this moment, hidden away in the shade, while she was more eager to peel off his robe, he was more in mind to take his time with her.

Bodies intertwined, an affair meant to exist only in the shadows.

She lied beneath him upon the ground while he eased his cock in and out of her core. Far from pounding but nowhere near delicate, he pumped himself at a lively pace. More kisses than bites were pressed onto her neck, one hand clasped around her waist while the fingers of the other slipped between their bodies to rub slow--and dare he say sweet?--circles against her clit.

It just wasn’t the same.

“What’s with the tenderness?” Hathe murmured breathlessly, her back arching as she continued to find her senses stimulated all the more. Though there was a teasing inflection to her voice, he could hear a layer of pure curiosity at its foundation.

The question genuinely caused Emet-Selch to halt in place.

Even if just for a few seconds.

Only before he snorted, his lips curling into a smirk. “You will never see Ascians as capable of love, do you, hero? Since you insist--”

His hands reinforced their grip on her waist, squeezing tight as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

She was right, however.

Tenderness, affection, love--those were reserved for Azem.

A shallow copy of the woman he loved most was in no need of such pure and precious joys, especially when she was fated to become a vessel for his plans.

The leading role of his grand theatrical production was to take her place in the showstopping climax of the show, and he was ever so delighted to have front row seats.

And yet, his mouth still sought out to kiss hers nonetheless.

A kiss longing for someone he couldn’t have anymore.

A kiss affectionate for someone he needed for greater purposes.

But as they rode out their orgasms, soon falling into one another in a pleasured heap, he still embraced her close to his chest with a grip that did not want to let go in the slightest, his face hiding into her neck.

So familiar and so far at the same time.

It just wasn’t the same and never would things return to how they would and should have been in a kinder life.