#BECAUSE GOD ALMIGHTY I AM NOT AT ALL STRONG ENOUGH TO DO THIS ANYMORE

[timothyslucy]

happy (chenford) valentine's to those who celebrate! 💘 i love love, and i love loving these two buffoons. i always have since, "officer bradford, you get our hotshot" from day one. 🥹🫶

[literaila]

If you’re still doing requests, what about a loki x reader where he plans a date around asgard? Pure fluff as he tries to impress reader

a perfect sort of different 

loki x gn!reader 

a/n: went with more of a “loki moments” type thing but. it was very fun to daydream..sooo.

*

the pure rush of colors was magnificent.

it felt like so many things, so many bright lights flying past you at once, so many seconds condensed into not even one, and so many smiles lived through the blur of everything.

you’d been worried about the Bifrost— loki spoke of it with a brilliant smile on his face, mischievous glint in his eyes. but now, seeing it for yourself, you understood that look.

and you felt a little dizzy.

loki is holding onto your arm when you regain composure and look around, you’re barely aware that he’s the only thing holding you up.

it’s different here, strange. your eyes are squinted, tired from all the colors but you still manage to look around.

strange.

“—darling?”

your head tilts to look at loki, whos staring at you with all the confusion of a mighty god. he must not even realize how disorienting the bifrost could be.

“yes?” you whisper, surprised by how your voice sounds. it’s different, strange, but feels smooth. you smile as you breathe out, enjoying this sensation.

loki looks amused when you meet his eyes again, and finally, he lets go of your arm, turning around.

your eyes drift past him, to the walls, the floor, the weird thing in the middle of the room, and finally, someone else.

you hadn’t even noticed the person standing there, proper-like, sword in hand. he’s staring at you, eyes a strong, strange type of gold. he doesn’t look unkind, but still, your smile is hesitant.

you wish there was a directory for this sort of thing.

“thank you, heimdall,” loki quips, not bothering to look over to the man, and walking past without a breath.

his strange tone of voice doesn’t escape your ears. you stare after him, his long immortal strides, noting the tension in his back.

“shall i let your father know that you’re here with— ahem —your guest?” the man, heimdall, calls after him even though he’s not that far away yet.

he’s not looking at you anymore, so he can’t see your confused face. you sense some tension.

loki spins around with a smile, too big to be real.

“better not,”

and then he’s walking again, leaving you behind, standing there looking all too small. accidentally— you hope.

you turn to the man with his beautiful gold eyes. he’s already looking at you, waiting for whatever he knows you’re about to say. your eyes dart to loki for a moment, meters ahead of you already, and you look at heimdall again with an apologetic face.

“thank you,” you say quickly with your strange chilled voice, and then, before he can respond, you’re running after loki.

he walks far faster than you do— curse his long legs — and it takes a moment to catch up. luckily, he stops when he notices you approaching.

his face is void of anything.

“bad blood?”

loki, stood in front of you, gives an unamused look at your words, then looks forward to the-

oh, wow.

if you’d thought the bifrost and the man were strange— this would be miles away. the sight in front of you has your jaw-dropping, your breath wavering off as you stare.

it’s bright, so bright, and gold gold gold. it looks like a place from a story, a fictional thing that people on earth could never dream of seeing. it’s so-

wow.

it would be embarrassing to burst into tears right here, wouldnt it?

loki seems to be thinking the same thing because he leans down to grab your hand, distracting you from your thoughts of sobbing.

“do you like it?” he wonders, nodding toward the castle, the gold, the colors. it’s all very overwhelming. beautiful.

“it’s very…” you cant stop staring, cant think long enough to finish.

your eyes are glued in front of you.

“very what?”

and to him.

his blue eyes are awaiting your response, and his hand soft and cold in yours.

“just very,” you whisper.

he rolls his eyes, breaking your lovestruck thoughts. bastard.

“that doesn’t make any sense, dear,” he chides, taking a few steps forward and pulling you with him. he ignores the scoff that follows his response.

you observe the sky, clearer than you’ve seen before, the mountains which you hadn’t expected, the buildings and the still-movement all of them are making.

it’s only takes a few more seconds for you to finally look down—

—and jump away from loki.

he’s looking over at you with curious eyes, wondering where you’ve gone, but you’re staring at the ground.

eyes wide, face shocked, wondering how in the nine realms you didn’t notice this earlier.

it’s a rainbow, yes, so how are you walking on it?

“am i going to die?” you blurt out, moving backward, not really looking where you’re going. all you know is that you need to get off this rainbow.

you cant believe loki wouldn’t have warned you before, cant believe that you’re still alive even now.

“darling-“ loki is calling, you don’t listen. “darling, darling—“ his voice gets louder, nearing you. “hey-“

he’s grabs your arm, pulling you to him, his breath against your face. his grip is stronger, but his voice is stronger “you’re only going to die if you fall off,”

it’s then you notice how close you were to the edge of the bridge.

oops.

you look up to loki, now rational enough to be still, and wince at his scowl. embarrassing mortal, you are.

“sorry,” you say and take a step back. the ground is firm beneath your feet. you probably should’ve noticed that before.

another eye roll.

okay, so maybe you definitely should’ve noticed that before. and— yup, loki is still glaring at you.

“i’m okay now,” you promise, smiling and taking a step closer to him. loki doesn’t relent, turning his head away.

you kiss his jaw anyway, loving the quirk of his lip you can just barely see out of the corner of your eye. he’s not a very sly god.

you peck up, until you can just barely meet the corner of his lips, and then he’s turning his head, meeting you halfway.

forgiven, then.

“you are absurd,” he says, his eyes so very kind, the antonym to his words. he runs two finger tips under your jaw and then looks away.

“sorry,” you repeat.

loki just laughs, moves the two of you closer to the middle of the ‘bridge’, giving you a pointed look. he’s never going to let that go.

then the two of you are walking, towards the castle, towards the gold, towards the beautiful place in front of you. you’re not sure how loki is so calm, how he can keep his eyes off of any of this for even a moment.

when you’ve almost reached the end, loki starts telling you about the bridge, about its prosperities, it’s history. he whispers things about the skyline in your ear and guides you toward the beautiful place.

it’s all very wonderful. peaceful, somehow, something you’d never thought you’d get to experience. especially not with him.

you’re almost there though, the buildings, the people, when you feel a cold blur cover you.

your clothes are gone, in their place, a blob of leather and cloth.

“loki,”

he doesn’t stop, moving ahead with your hand still in his. you notice his clothes, once a shirt and some jeans, now transformed into leather and more leather.

and… horns? gold horns?

appealing, yes. ridiculous, yes.

“your highness, almighty god, care to explain?”you call, after removing your hand from his, and crossing your arms. he’s not supposed to magic you without warning.

he doesn’t even attempt to look innocent, instead fiddling with the clothing at your waist— admiring it almost.

you huff.

“darling, you can’t except us to wear… that here, honestly. you’d be executed at the gate,” he waved a hand, completely ignoring your face.

dumb, cute, bastard god.

he tries to pull you again but you snap back. “nuh-uh, junior, you don’t make any sense,”

“i don’t make sense?” his amused eyebrow is not helping.

“explain,” you say, instead of elbowing him.

he sighs, throws his head back, rolls his eyes and looks up. all within two seconds. you might’ve appreciated it if he wasn’t being so convoluted.

he sighs again. “we’re trying not to draw any unwanted attention, darling, hence the clothes,”

you stare at him for a few moments, his impatient, ridiculous face.

and then “you’re literally wearing horns,”

“they’re comfortable,” he says, as if that’s any explanation at all.

“they’re horns,”

“custom fit” he says with a stupid prideful face. again, any other time it might’ve been endearing.

you look behind him, to the palace you cant wait to see, to the noises you can hear.

“…aren’t you like a prince here?”

“well, technically, darling-“

but you don’t let him finish, instead you take one step past him and interrupt. “also, you like— bask in attention all of the time. you practically live for it,” you continue to walk, expecting him to follow.

“i do not ba-“

“don’t try and deny it, loki, lying doesn’t look good on you.”

“i’m the god of lies,” loki huffs, and doesn’t utter another word. you’re sure he’s crossing his arms and pouting.

after a few moments of silence, you’re beginning to worry that you’ve actually hurt his feelings, but then he sighs again.

“shall i take them off?”

you roll your eyes at that, watching his hand go up to his head, stopping him with the gentle tap of yours

“no, love, then people won’t notice them,”

you walk forward, laughing to yourself when loki doesn’t follow. a part of you wants to look back to see the look on his face, but the other part doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

it doesn’t matter though because loki only pauses for a moment, and then he’s running to catch up to you and looking down upon you with a smirk.

“does that mean you like them, then?”

*

loki’s room is… unexpected.

you’d guessed about the rows of books, the dark colors, the large expanse of space. it wasn’t that hard to guess after you knew about his decorating skills.

but this… something about this is warm.

maybe it’s the large glass windows you hadn’t thought of, maybe it’s the light they bring in. maybe it’s the view of the bifrost, maybe it’s just some magic asgardian thing,

but still, you loved it from the moment you’d walked in.

it was him, you supposed, there wasnt much that could keep you from loving it. 

still, loki’s tour of the room (big, yet smaller than you’d thought it would be) was your favorite part. 

“this was my favorite dagger, before my mother gave me the one at home,” and “yes that is a trophy— no, darling, we dont need to talk about it-” and “you think thats funny but i spent most nights away from bed,” (you’d hit him for that one (( “sneaking!” he’d promised))  

it was wonderful to hear about his childhood, no matter the grey-tinted glasses he looked at it through. 

and now, standing at his library while he sits in the chair next to you, you cant stop smiling at the books you cant read. 

“whats this one?” 

“that one is illusion-casting,” he answers, and he has a book in his hand— another title you cant read —but the two of you both know that he hasnt looked away from you once. 

“i should burn it,” you mutter, familiar with the name and the magic. 

loki smirks, you refuse to look and see but he is, and sings out a quiet “ ‘fraid you’re a bit too late,” 

“this one?” you demand, voice louder now. you ignore the snake slithering over your finger tips. he won’t win that fast.  

“that one is a work of fiction,” he says, standing up to grab it from you. the snakes disappear in an instant. he flips it from the front to the back, studying it carefully. you’re sure you see him gulp before he says “its about frost giants.” 

you’re familiar with that name too. and you know, you would’ve been able to see it even if you didnt, that its a bad reminder for loki. something about it is causing that dullness in his eyes. 

“it is?” you whisper, moving closer to him to observe. you still cant read it, but something about the feel of his skin is comforting. 

“its asgardian, obviously,” he looks up, closed off face. “not very pleasant,” he whispers to you. 

his words send pricks down your heart. 

you’d known this would happen when he’d invited you, stuttered out his invitation with his silk voice. you had guessed that too— that asgard held bad memories for him. that there was a reason, before maybe, he hadn’t wanted to come back. 

until now, of course. he was excited to show you around. 

still, there must be something to get that look off of his face. 

you grab the book from his hands, placing it back on the shelf as carefully as possible. you move back, smile— slightly sad —on your face. loki is watching, but you’re not sure if hes really there. 

so, you move closer, grab his hands before stepping into his chest. 

you’re looking into his eyes when you ask “should i burn that one too?” 

and he doesn’t move. he doesn’t breathe in or out. he just stands for a moment.

but you can see it— the twitch of his nose, the subtle change in his eyes. you can see the life return to his brows, the colors flooding his cheek.

you don’t mention the blue, the tint, the composure he’d lost. you won’t speak of it until he does.

and then, within another moment, with one sharp inhale of breath, loki’s smiling.

and it’s wonderful, it’s amazing, and you’re quick to return it. you hope it’s your words, hope that loki can already hear the unspoken ‘i accept you’ you’re sending to him.

you hope just this once that he’s reading your mind, that he knows how highly you think of him.

it takes one more second for loki to grab at your waist, to stare at your lips until he cant take it anymore and he— gently —claws at your face.

his lips are yours and his hands are running across your skin, across the clothes he’s made for you, all over until you’re breathing once again.

you want to pull back and look at the color of his eyes, but you don’t want to move. you cant move away from him now.

with gasps of breath, warming hands, loving eyes you can see when loki finally does pull back, the two of you are smiling.

at least, right now, you’re enough to shove away the memories.

“yes, darling,” he whispers with his lips centimeters from yours. “you should burn them all,”

you laugh and loki groans into the next kiss. he’s fast and slow and hard and soft and pulling away…

“we should burn them all,” he corrects, eyes attached to yours.

you scoff though, instead of returning his lovely look, and move away. “i quite like the look of some of these,”

“you cant even read them,” loki complains, reminds you with a smirk.

you glare at him, pulling out another book. he’s right next to you, leaning against the shelf and watching you with observant eyes.

“doesn’t mean i’m going to burn them all just to feed your pyromaniac tendencies,”

loki laughs, maybe at you, maybe at your words.

but still, when you look over to him again, you can’t help but laugh back.

*

“…if i married you, would we share the title of ‘the god of mischief’?”

it was a serious question.

loki’s reaction was not helpful in the slightest.

he’s sitting next to you, laughing— cackling at your words.

the two of you have been leaning against the bookshelf for a while now, not noticing the time that’s passed while you discuss, talk and read.

well, loki reads, you listen.

you been enjoying the stories he tells you, both his and others, enjoying the way his mouth moves when he reads, the way his eyes flick up to yours every couple of moments. the smile that lights up his face after those few seconds of eye contact.

you enjoyed his bursts of energy, the moments when he’s reminded of something and so he pauses the story and tells you something else instead.

you’ve enjoyed all of these hours on the floor.

and no, you’re not exactly sure how the subject has come up, but still.

the scowl on your face is not playful.

“that’s not really how it works, darling,” loki says in between the laughs he still can’t seem to keep in.

he’s got a hold of your hand, and so, with the maturity of the adult you are, you snatch it back.

it’s only then that he looks up with betrayal in his eyes. his lips quirk at the look on your face moments after.

bastard.

“fine,” you say with practiced ease. “i didn’t want to marry you anyway,”

without another look at his face, you stand up, sore from sitting on the floor for so long and stretch.

loki is quick to follow, turning your head to make you look him in the eyes.

“pardon, darling?”

your smile is malicious. “you didn’t hear me?”

loki quirks an eyebrow at you and moves your head down only slightly. he moves his hand against your forehead.

“are you sick, my dear?” he asks with all the fake curiosity he can muster.

hey wait— where did he even learn that?

he laughs again when you force his hand away.

“you’re infuriating,” you say, glaring at him.

loki smiles, charming once again, and leans down. “i am the god of mischief-“

“heard that one before-“

“-and i will share that title with you, if you’d like.”

and then, he’s across the room before you even get the chance to make another comment.

god— he’s so beautiful when he’s laughing at you.

*

“what do you think?” he asks, playing with your wrist in his delicate hands, moving your hand to his liking.

it’s been a long day, you think.

“about what?” you whisper back, teasing that smooth sensation on your tongue, feeling the weight of your eyelids.

his bed is wonderful. soft, silky. and even if the scent is slightly different— you can still tell it’s him.

“me,” loki murmurs. “here, this place, my home.”

he’s giving you options, you know, and still. there’s only one real answer.

it’s all been very disorienting. from the very moment, you stepped foot here, from the moment loki asked you to come. it’s been fast, and slow, and a blur of everything.

every moment has been scattered with confusion, and while happiness, excitement, and curiosity lay beneath that— it’s still the biggest thing.

it’s so different here, so strange, so sweet. loki is different here too— someone you don’t know, but recognize so well.

there’s so much to mention and just not enough words.

so, you don’t know what to say when he asks.

loki seems to notice, he’s looking in your eyes which are cast off to the side, and he can see the hesitation.

“if it’s bad, i’m sure we can find a memory loss spell,” he says.

you laugh and he delights in the sound. he keeps going.

“or we can go back down to midgard, and you can tell everyone i kidnapped you, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

“technically, you did,” you say, looking at him, watching his facial expressions.

he laughs. “i did,”

theres a moment after hes done speaking, pure silence.

loki gives you a minute to think, traces the skin under your eyes while he waits. hes been paitent-- uncharacteristic -- and you still dont know what to say. 

“i feel like i’m dreaming,” you blurt out, carefully watching for his reaction. 

he doesnt answer, doesnt meet your eyes, only hums. 

hes waiting for more you know. 

you sigh. “i’ve been worried that i havent woken up all day- that you’re upset because i stood you up, and missed out on all of this.” 

loki looks then, looks at you, looks closer. 

“this is all so surreal, loki, so different.” 

he smiles, and you’re not sure if its good or not. you’re both tired, you can tell, you’re both exhausted, you’re both drained from all the laughing, and you’re both so happy. 

or, you hope he is. you know you are. how could you not be? 

maybe you should tell him that, too. 

“a bad sort of different?” loki asks before you can speak again. hes moving up, lifting his head from your stomach and moving to meet you, to hold you. 

you’re smiling once again, a tired sort of smile. 

“nothing different about you is bad,” you tell him, you whisper into his mouth when you move up to kiss him. you wrap your hands in his hair, pull him as close as possible. 

its such a lazy kiss, but you cant help but think that its your favorite one of the day. you feel loki’s hand on your neck, feel him pull you in too. 

you match each other, in breath, in movements, in whispers between kisses, in softness and warmth. 

when you move back, when you look at him again, when your eyelids are falling but hes holding you up-- 

when you move back, you cant stop yourself from speaking again. “you dont think my different is bad, do you?” 

its sort of a rhetorical question, but maybe its not. loki is going to answer, either way, you know. 

“your different is perfect,” he confirms and pulls you in deeper once again. hes pulling you under the water, holding you up in the sky, making you feel so different here, so different in his bed, in his home, in his arms. 

a perfect sort of different, you know. now, and then and forever, maybe. 

“are you still dreaming?” loki asks when he pulls back. he says it like hes trying to prove to you that you arent. like hes trying to prove to you that this is real, that he is real. 

“maybe,” you answer back, close-lipped smile on your face. “but, you know.” 

loki stares, his head lifts up as he waits. 

...and then you dont say anything. you’re just breathing, matching his stare. 

“i don’t” he protests, a demand in its own way. softly, he kisses between your brows. 

you smile, softer at his touch. 

“i dont mind dreaming, as long as you’re here,” 

maybe its not the answer he was expecting, or maybe its shocking, because the look he gives you is not what you were expecting. 

you laugh and lay back against the pillows, knowing that he’ll follow, knowing that you’re both going to fall asleep like this and it’ll be perfectly okay. 

you’re supposed to stay here for a while anyway, today was just a start. 

loki, kisses you again, once more for now, desperate and hard and unlike the kisses from before. 

its a blur of colors before he lets you go again, a blur of hope and excitement and wonder and every emotion he lends you. 

you’re so tired, you know. 

he whispers something in your ear, says your name again, calls you ‘darling’ for the last time that day. 

it's a different kind of sleep. strange, shallow. in his arms, surrounded by these sheets that you’ve never felt before. surrounded by this place that you’ve never been. cuddled in the arms of someone you’ve always known. 

perfect. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[batarella]

3 birds 1 stone - RED

Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

WORDS: 7791 WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

-          Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

You:

“Y/N?”

On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.

But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.

Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.

Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.

Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”

“Oh.”

Not what you thought.

You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.

“Alright then. What do you want to know?”

He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.

“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”

Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.

“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”

“How do I know when I’m ready?”

That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.

“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”

A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.

“When you meet the right person,” you told him.

You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”

“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”

“When I have sex with someo-“

You gave him a dirty look.

“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”

“Coitus?”

“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”

You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.

“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”

“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”

A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.

“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”

“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”

That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.

“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”

You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.

Then there was this sinking. Something within.

“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.

Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.

“Was your first time with someone you loved?”

And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.

What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.

Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.

Easy, because it was true.

And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.  

But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.

“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.

.

Jason:

Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.

He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.

Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.

The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.

Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.

He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.

Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.

Something. Anything, to intrigue him.

Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.

But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.

He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.

But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.

No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.

Nothing. He cared about nothing.

Everything, all except her.

And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.

He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.

Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.

More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.

“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”

“They closed off my room.”

She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.

“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”

“Better than that shitshow outside.”

“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”

“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.

“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.

But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.

Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said.

“Ah.”

Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”

Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.

The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.

But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.

Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.

She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.

But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.

Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.

Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.

“I’m going in.”

She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.

Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.

“You’re gonna swim?”

He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”

Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.

Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.

He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.

Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.

He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.

A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.

But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.

Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.

And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.

“Is it cold?”

His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”

“Is it nice?”

Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”

She hummed.

Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.

Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.

Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.

He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.

Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.

If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.

She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.

He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.

Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.

Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.

That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.

“I want to go in.”

He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”

He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.

Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.

“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.

It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.

But she was here now.

.

You:

The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.

But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.

“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”

You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.

“Yeah,” you said.

As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.

Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.

You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.

Now, you were bare.

Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.

One at a time.

With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.

It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.

Now, the other.

Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.

Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.

You were here.

You were free.

You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.

“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.

Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.

He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.

“Jason-“

“I’m here.”

You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.

“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”

So you didn’t tell him to.

Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.

You were laughing. “This is so great…”

“It is…”

With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.

“I want to go there.”

You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.

“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”

You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.

As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.

You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.

You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.

Oh god, how you loved him.

Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.

He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.

Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.

Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.

He pushed back your hair.

You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.

.

Jason:

What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?

That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.

Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.

He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.

She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.

And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.

He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.

His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.

.

You:

Oh.

Oh, was it all so wonderful.

The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.

You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.

In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.

But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.

“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.

Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.

“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.

And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you leaving?”

Again? You wanted to say.

But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.

“Go back to bed.”

“What’s going on-“

“I’m sorry.”

He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.

His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.

You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.

But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“

“Y/N -“

“What did I do?” You met his eyes.

“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“

“When?”

He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.

“I have to go-“

“You’re not coming back, are you?“

“I said we’ll talk about this.”

“Don’t walk away from me-“

He didn’t even let you finish.

He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.

The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.

Wouldn’t choose you.

Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.

You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.

This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.

Go after him.

Tell him everything.

Go after him.

You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.

So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.

You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.

You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.

You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.

You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.

Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.

At the fifteenth call, he picked up.

“Jason, for the love of god-“

Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.

“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.

“Please, just talk to me.”

“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“

“I want to talk to you now-“

“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”

You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.

“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“

“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”

So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.

But it wasn’t close enough.

You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.

‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’

.

Jason:

“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”

Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.

“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”

“That’s not true.”

“Tell me it is!”

“Y/N.”

He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.

“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“

Of course, she’d find him.

To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.

The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.

He turned around.

“You actually fucking followed me-“

“Why?”

She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.

“Why is this so hard for you-“

“Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?“

“Because, I-“

Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.

“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“

“I love you-“

God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.

“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.

“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“

“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”

A struggle at that.

But he’s never been so cold.

It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.

But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.

She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.

“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”

It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.

“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.

“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”

Great Expectations.

Why can’t he remember this?

“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”

Jason took a step back, away from her.

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.

“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”

“How did you-“

“Remember that?”

She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.

“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”

If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.

He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.

“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”

This. This was worse than a fall.

He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.

This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.

“I didn’t want to believe it…”

.

You:

You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.

“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”

Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.

His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.

“Do you love me?”

It wasn’t in his words.

It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.

It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.

“Of course, I do…“

Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.

.

Epilogue

Jason:

One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.

“Where do you want me to put these?!”

She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.

“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”

“Got it!”

He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.

But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.

“What about this!?”

He held up his box of books.

“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”

“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”

Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.

He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.

“Do you clean up even just a little?”

“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”

“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”

“What?!”

“Nothing!”

She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.

“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”

The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.

“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”

“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.

Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.

Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

This was how it ended.

And he never wanted it to end.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

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[jaeminscoffee]

The midnight man | l.ty

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader

Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.

Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.

Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.

Word count- 11.83k

Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

@kpopscape

This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®

If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!

29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM

"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!" 

Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal. 

Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back. 

"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.

When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'

"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get. 

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website. 

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly. 

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

 "Which is exactly why i want to try them out" 

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless. 

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices. 

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all. 

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,' 

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him? 

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people. 

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth. 

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate. 

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling. 

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly." 

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude" 

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?" 

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame. 

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you. 

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines. 

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet.  Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant. 

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”" 

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what. 

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go" 

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story" 

"My turn!" 

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin  looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out."  "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend. 

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys. 

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways. 

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely. 

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh. 

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too" 

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair"  Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out" 

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight," 

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil. 

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first. 

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it, 

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him. 

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it. 

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him. 

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him. 

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event. 

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds.  If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt.  Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket. 

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game.  Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways. 

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded? 

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9,  pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising". 

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head, 

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle. 

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways. 

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost. 

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there. 

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately. 

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that. 

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you. 

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not? 

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there. 

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies. 

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke. 

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered. 

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day, 

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on. 

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later. 

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area. 

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto. 

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta. 

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so. 

Y/n: Who's this? 

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD. 

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that. 

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there? 

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building. 

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?" 

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?" 

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick. 

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last. 

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible. 

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored." 

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?" 

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's. 

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?" 

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while." 

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan" 

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by. 

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother 

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior. 

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room. 

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

[jungcity]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥.

genre: romance, fantasy, erotica

au: fallen angel, reincarnation

pairing: jung jaehyun x female reader

note: This is a work of fiction. The portrayal of the celebrities included in this story does not reflect their true nature in real life. I am just using them as a way to bring life into the story and to give entertainment to readers. Concerning the plot which is about Lucifer, I do not— in any means— sympathize with the devil and I do not intend to offend any religion. Furthermore, I discourage you to continue reading if you feel uncomfortable with this type of stories. I’d appreciate it if you'll leave some feedbacks! Thank you so much!

“he was the worse of his kind—

dared the Almighty with

pride in his mind.

banished from heaven,

the infamous fallen.

the one you cannot tame;

lucifer, that is his name.”

Unable to process the words printed out in the sheet of paper that was in your hands, you stare dat your termination contract with dread slowly creeping up into your face. Maybe you want to scream or to cry– heck, you have no idea what to feel as yet another hindrance towards a stable life lay heavy in your palms. An exhausted exhale of breath escaped your lips as the realization hit you– you were indeed terminated by the management of the fast-food chain you were working on for the reason that they could not meet their quota anymore and they had to terminate some employees. Unfortunately, you are one of those workers.

You have witnessed as the same dread fell upon your co-workers while they skimmed the paper in their hands. The fast-food chain stood as your only means to support yourself and your sister, so you never once took it for granted and did your work diligently despite the low wages and the awful workplace it had offered. Now, you have to find another job or else you will surely die of hunger.

You do have a talent in arts, and you graduated with a fine arts degree. But life after college was beyond what you had expected when you were still studying. You had anticipated to have a stable job suited for your skills, but life did not go as you planned. Your mother fell sick and died a year after you graduated, leaving you and your sister all alone. From that day onwards, you became the modern Atlas who carried the world in your shoulders. Yet you couldn’t complain. And despite all of the hardships, you only felt the need to take care of your little sister even more.

You continued walking the side streets like a ragged doll being pulled sluggishly by whatever force there was, thinking of other ways to get by tomorrow. Being jobless wouldn’t be so hard if you didn’t have another mouth to feed. Your sister will be a freshman in college next year, and that’s the sole reason why you needed to work your butt off harder than before. And life isn’t really helping right now. So you grabbed your phone and rang your best friend’s number. She picked up after fifteen seconds.

“Hey, gorge—”

“I am jobless,” you greeted Soojin. There was a surprised ‘oh’ in the other line and you could imagine your best friend looking at you pitifully. It made you bite your lower lip to fight the urge to cry in front of the judging eyes of the city.

“Tell me, is there something I can do to help?”

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I am deep in fucking debt and Yuqi’s going to college soon. I couldn’t possibly pay for our rent with my current situation— oh. I am a mess!” You heaved a deep sigh, your chest constricting from all the emotions you were keeping locked up inside you. Different set of eyes were on you as you tried not to crumple in the side streets. There were adults giving you sympathetic looks and children almost laughing at you.

“Hey! Hey, Y/N! Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale!” You did as you were told. Gulping a large amount of air, you didn’t even bother how polluted it was now that you were in the heart of the town. You have to get a new job before you lose your mind.

“Okay, is everything calmer now?” Soojin asked.

“Yes. Yes,” you replied, still taking deep breaths.

“I could recommend a job, Y/N.”

Your ears perked up. “I’m listening.”

“But it wouldn’t be an easy one,” she sighed on the other line before continuing, “The job is right here in Jung’s Fiscals. Luckily for you, the former secretary of Mr. Jung decided to resign today; rumor has it that it’s because of the cold and ruthless demeanor of our CEO. I know you’re fit for the job because you’re one hell of a hard working bitch. However, I want you to give it a thought. Mr. Jung is not someone to mess with. Heck, he does not even—”

You replied before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, “I’ll take it. I’m really not in the position to say no to a job right now, am I? I badly need one so whatever the character of this Mr. Jung, I’d cooperate with him.”

You heard your best friend sigh in defeat. She knows you too well to try to stop you. So she simply directed you to prepare your resumé and other documents for the interview tomorrow.

“God! Thank you!” You kissed the mic of your phone as thanks to your best friend-slash-life savior.

You were too desperate to even think about her advice and the possibility of the CEO mistreating you. As long as there is money in your card to support your sister and food on your table, you are always ready to serve anyone— even if that person was forged straight from the womb of the devil.

All energetic and ready to take the challenge of the world again, you blew your friend one last kiss before ending the call and trudging towards the bus stop.

It was a night of simple ready-to-eat-ramen pack. Your sister had already known about your termination and currently feels bad that there is nothing she could do to help.

“It’s okay. Worry about school and nothing else, Yuqi,” you told her. The younger girl pouted her lips, reluctance clear on her face. “And I could not possibly let you work. We know enough not to overwork you.”

She has a weak stamina. Asthmatic since she was a kid, you never allowed her to do any part-time jobs for the fear that it would take a toll on her health. You couldn’t afford to lose the only relative you have, so every attempt of hers to help you boils down to nothing.

“I mean, who am I in this household? I don’t want to be a leech, sucking all your money and energy like that.” She scrunched up her nose.

“Yuqi, it’s my responsibility to take care of you. This is nothing, really.”

Even though you had almost lost your mind earlier thinking about the fact that you were indeed jobless, you tried to show your strong façade and smiled encouragingly to your sister. The least that you want right now is to worry her.

“Not to mention that you have to work in that wretched company– where the CEO is Jung Jaehyun. I’ve heard a lot of rumors about him, you know. They say he fucks—”

“Language, please,” you warned with a glare.

Yuqi rolled her eyes before continuing, “They say, he brings famous models into his penthouse every single night. And some say he does it even in his own office.” She talked while pointing her chopstick at you, munching her food deliciously like it was the best ramen she has ever tasted.

“Well, let’s be glad I am not a model then.” You shrugged. The both of you laughed.

She rambled about Jung Jaehyun the whole dinner with you, half-listening to her. Yuqi almost sounded like she was a fan and you seriously couldn’t grasp the need to be cautious towards Jung Jaehyun. You were hell-bent to impress him tomorrow that you refused to indulge yourself around the bad rumors circulating his name and well-being. All that matters to you is you are going to get that job, and you will do your best to stay in that office long enough to support your sister’s education.

This is the day where your fate is divided into two. You have a chance to make everything better for you and your sister, or you can prove that your life has been cursed and there is no more hope to rescue it from the depths of poverty.

The fate is in your hands and right now, your palms are sweating and your hands are trembling. Shaking your head and clearing your mind— with a determined heart— you trudge inside the thirty-story building of Jung’s Fiscals.

You were greeted by your best friend, Soojin. She was wearing a slightly loose pencil skirt paired with simple white polo sleeves. Her hair was styled into a neat bun, just like any other girl at the front desk. You have presumed that that would also be your hairstyle once you got the job.

“You got this,” Soojin mumbled as she led you towards the elevator. Unfortunately for you, she couldn’t accompany you all the way to Mr. Jung’s office for the reason that the building is buzzing with work and she couldn’t leave her position at the front desk for too long. You wave her a nervous goodbye before pushing the button on to the 28th floor.

There was really something about CEOs preferring to locate their offices on the top floor of their building. It was not like you mind, but you truly couldn’t believe that it really happens in real life. You once thought that they only appear in televisions.

Surrounded by the shiny metal covers of the elevator’s interior, you decided to check on your clothes and overall appearance. You have picked your best set of formal clothes for this day because you obviously wanted to impress the CEO and look presentable on your possible first day of work.

After a few minutes of standing alone inside the shiny elevator, it finally dinged and opened. You step outside, eyes roaming around the surroundings before taking a step forward. A nice and wide room greeted you as you walked through. The secretary’s table was made of polished wood, with the company’s logo engraved in gold. There were sets of black marble columns at the back and two comfortable armchairs in front of the secretary’s table to serve as a waiting area.

A woman, with the same bun as Soojin, stood up from her seat to greet you. Unlike your best friend, she was wearing a brown blazer that slightly hugged her waist and a fitted black dress underneath it. In your own opinion, she was too young to resign in this prestigious company. Which made your mind fall back into thinking that maybe the rumors were true– that the CEO, indeed, mistreats his employees.

“Good morning, Miss. Mr. Jung is ready to meet you.” She greeted with a slight bow. Her whole aura screamed professionalism. Something that you were not acquainted with— being a former waitress at a fast-food chain. All you had to do was take orders and smile and obey inquiries but you had never, ever, worked in a place where those aforementioned skills were almost nothing compared to the huge building that you were— hopefully— going to work in. Although, you suppose you have a bit of advantage when it comes to noting something and smiling. The only difference is that, rather than French fries and diet coke, you would have to take notes about meetings and business trips.

You breathed slowly, calming your nerves. The woman must have heard your heart thumping against your chest since she hesitated to open the door.

“Just be yourself, Miss. Do not worry too much. You’ll get through this.” She offered you a kind smile. You couldn’t help but think that she was accompanying you towards your own doom. You returned the smile even as you felt your lips wobble. A few inhales and exhales later, you told her you were ready. She slowly opened the door to Mr. Jung’s office and Jesus Christ— you thought you would collapse by the expansive space that greeted you in.

Typical CEO, he was obviously sitting on his swivel chair, the back of it facing you and the secretary. You have guessed he was looking at the spectacular view outside. The interior of his office wasn’t quite different from the secretary’s. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the skyscrapers and buzzing life outside. Light brown wood with grey walls surrounded you, partnered with black leather furniture. Hints of gold in the CEO’s table were also visible and there were minimalistic abstract paintings with the same hue as everything in the room.

Jung Jaehyun. CEO. — was printed on the glass plaque on top of his table.

“Leave us.” He said without turning his chair. The voice was deep and raspy— clean and masculine— the kind of voice from someone who knows he was in authority and that he owns the whole place.

Shivering, you almost begged the woman not to leave you with the predator sitting not two meters away from you. The secretary gave you an encouraging nod before turning on her heels and walking away. At the sound of the door clicking close, the swivel chair whirled.

You expected to see a grey-haired, middle-aged man to greet you. As a large company like this one, the CEO wouldn’t be as young as the man in front of you now. You tried to focus your breathing because fuck— the man is beyond gorgeous. It has been a while since you had encountered a creature as beautiful as him.

Hair, raven black against the white swivel chair that stood out in the whole room like a throne only for his to take, his lips were too red as a freshly plucked cherry against his pale skin— so white you could almost see the blues and the violets of his veins. And those eyes— the perfect dark brown; screams calmness after the storm and the rage of the hurricane fused together.

“Are you quite done staring?”

His voice shot you back to reality. You prayed to the saints that you hadn’t been drooling as you took in his whole features. If that was the case?You were absolutely doomed. Your chances of ever being hired beginning to thin.

“I… my apologies, Sir.” You bowed your head, suddenly confused as to why your body reacted that way. This is not a medieval fantasy where you were inclined to bow before the king, but the man in front of you exudes the energy of the likeliness of a monarch and it felt right to bow in front of him.

He didn’t answer. You could only assume that he was looking through your documents by the sound of the papers shuffling.

“Fine arts degree? To a waitress?” His words ended with a ‘hm?’. He almost sounded disgusted by your resume. It made the veins on your temple ticked but you really couldn’t blame him. The job that you landed on after graduating wasn’t really what you expected after those too many sleepless nights struggling to finish all your plates.

“And with this basic resume…” Your head automatically recovered from the bow and your eyes stared at him. He didn’t call your resume basic, right? But he did. It was crystal clear in your ears, ringing in your mind. And all your hopes of getting the job were gone in an instant. “… why should I hire you?” he finished.

His eyes were emotionless but his voice was taunting. Despite the insult of calling your resume basic, you smiled at him. It was your time to prove yourself and there was no stopping you now.

You cleared your throat, “Because I am a hard-working woman ready to give you her utmost effort—”

“You’re hired.” He simply declared with a wave of his hand.

You blinked, doubtful of the words that you have heard. “Sir?”

“You’re hired. Go and talk to Maggie about everything that you need to know,” he coldly stated, not looking at you but into his computer.

You could really jump from happiness, right in front of him. And you didn’t even care that he interrupted the speech which you practiced all night with the hopes to impress him. What truly matters is you got a new job not twenty-four-hours after you were terminated from that wretched fast-food chain. However, you wouldn’t provoke him to fire you on your first day so you remained calm.

“Thank you, Sir!”

Clasping your hands together was the only vessel you have to let go of a fraction of the happiness that you have felt. You turned on your heels with a smile that could reach your ears. But before you could open the door, he spoke again.

“Try harder when it comes to your clothes, next time. They don’t match mine.”

It was the best pair of formal clothes in your wardrobe. You inhaled sharply and faced him with the same smile, already not so fond of your newly-acclaimed boss.

“Alright, Sir. I understand.”

Then you dashed outside, instantly regretting being his secretary even before your job to serve him had begun.

The secretary, Maggie, introduced you your new workplace. She must’ve seen how happy you were when you departed Mr. Jung’s office that she automatically guided you towards the secretary’s table with a smile.

Her corner was neat, the folders clearly stacked on one end and notebooks at the side. The computer was placed on the right corner alongside the telephone. It was easy to move around since everything is in its place.

Then she guided you towards the pantry. It was decorated with the same brown, grey, black hues with a hint of gold accents. Adjacent to it is the meeting area, composed of the same black leather furniture and a glass table partnered with a minimalistic chandelier. Everything around you looks so expensive that you felt out of place all of a sudden.

“Mr. Jung wants his coffee a little bit warm in the morning. There’s a coffee maker ready, you just have to watch a few coffee making videos and you’re gonna be alright.” You shared a chuckle. It would seem as if Jung Jaehyun is meticulous when it comes to his coffee. So you mentally reminded yourself to watch some coffee making videos tonight.

“Sometimes he likes it cold. Plus, he usually drinks iced-americano. Easy to make,” she said with a wink.

Is working for Jung Jaehyun also requires you to be a barista? Cool.

“For his breakfast, you have to ask him every morning if he’d like to eat. More of the times he does not. And I think one of his personal pet peeves is when someone wastes food. So be careful about that.”

You listed everything she has told you, emphasizing the words ‘ask him’ to remind yourself not to impulsively make him food for there was no guarantee that he was going to eat.

“On the days that he wants to have breakfast, he usually likes to eat scrambled eggs with slices of bacon and don’t forget about the apples. He loves apples,” she exaggerated, “You just have to cut them in equal pieces or else he won’t eat them.”

Bringing a ruler with you won’t do any harm, right? So you listed it together with the reminders that Maggie informed you of. She continued walking you through the works that she does: from the emails that you need to go through to make sure no insignificant message would irate Mr. Jung, to her techniques in taking notes and arranging schedules for the boss.

“And there’s a proper uniform made for you,” she said while eyeing you from head to toe. But not in an insulting manner like what Jung Jaehyun did. Her scrutinizing was more on the calculating side. It would appear as though she was mentally analyzing your body size.

“On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays– you will have to wear this same outfit as I am wearing.” By that, she means the dress and the brown blazer.

“Tuesdays, and Thursdays, you have to wear slacks the same color as this blazer. It’s paired with white silky polo sleeves. Nothing uncomfortable, don’t worry,” she chuckles. But your tongue wanted to ask whether you were going to buy your own set of clothes. The uniform looked so neat and expensive that by the lookds of it, surely you do not have the luxury to buy one. As if reading through your knitted brows, Maggie told you that all uniforms are provided by the company. Thank God.

“On Saturdays, you can wear anything you like. Just be mindful of it. Mr. Jung does not like it when his secretary—”

“Wears cheap clothing? And does not match with his?” You finished the sentence for her. It was the sentiment of the CEO before you exited his office.

Maggie’s lips was formed in a thin line, telling you to go along with it. “It’s not exactly like that. But you have to at least try to catch up to his fashion sense.”

Well— Jesus Christ— the man exhales the air of Balmain and Versace and you do not have the richest to afford a Chanel outfit to pair with him even if you sell your soul to the devil.

“Is that… really necessary?” You asked her, clearly agitated. If that was what the CEO wants, you would gladly go back and work in that cursed fast-food chain and wear the same uniform six days a week than thinking about robbing a famous clothing brands’ store every fucking day to match his highness’ clothes.

“Yes. But don’t worry. The clothes I wear every Saturdays were all thrifted. You just have to really dig every clothes to find a decent one.” She winked at you. You smiled at her nervously. You wouldn’t trust yourself thrifting clothes, simply because you do not have the patience for it. But your little sister, Yuqi, does. So you would have to trust her taste and maybe she wouldn’t feel so helpless anymore once you give her the task.

“That’s pretty much all you have to know,” Maggie declares while clasping her hands together. You suddenly felt the need to ask her the reason why she was resigning. But it seemed too personal to inquire. You shrugged and let the question die in your mind.

“How long have you been working here?” You asked instead. She smiled at you, looking around the place like she was reliving some kind of memories.

“I interned in this place when I was still in college. Mr. Jung applauded my performance so I decided to work here when I graduated. It’s been three years, to be exact.”

Jung Jaehyun must’ve been owning this empire at such a young age, based on Maggie’s story. He was the CEO when she was still in college until now. You wonder how old he was when he took this company.

“Mr. Jung’s must’ve been really young when he took over this company,” you voiced. Maggie nodded and told you she was impressed by how young yet clever Jung Jaehyun is to be managing a top company such as Jung’s Fiscals.

After a few minutes of small talk and reminders, Maggie bid you goodbye. Her things were all gathered and she was ready to go even before she walked you through the rules and reminders of the company. However, before she left, you asked the one question that you have been itching to know the answer to the very moment you walked out of Mr. Jung’s office.

“Is he… is he really terrible? Like in the rumors?” You know it was not pleasant to ask such things regarding your boss. But you need at least some warnings before you dive in headfirst to the trouble.

Maggie chuckled and you didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. “He doesn’t mistreat his employees. It’s more like, he doesn’t really care enough. I don’t know. He’s excellent in his field but he’s aloof towards everyone. Never really socializing and talking outside of business.” Maggie smiled and you hate to be the one to noticed it, but it seems like she adores Mr. Jung. With the possibility of romantic feelings bubbling beneath her weak facade.

Before you knew it, your tongue is rolling and asking the question you whispered only to yourself. “Do you like him?”

At your question, all the professionalism deteriorated from Maggie’s presence. She looked like a giddy thirteen-year-old lovesick teenager when she answered, “Who wouldn’t like him? The man is like, rich-rich. And that aura? That body? I’d let him spit on me.”

You were slightly disgusted by the latter but you were not going to argue that Jung Jaehyun is indeed the kind of man who could easily wreck you. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. He has that power in him and you know it the second you laid your eyes on that beautifully cruel face. Those eyes— oh boy— eyes that could make you feel alive but drown and capture you within the depths of them— yet his looks; looks that could almost kill. Men like him know their place, and that is above everyone else— including you.

Your first week went smoothly. There were new emails sent to Jung Jaehyun’s inbox that you need to check. There was also a telephone call, once, from a girl named Chaelin who wishes to visit Jaehyun once his schedule wasn’t too jampacked to bother. You silently asked your boss whether he would allow it, checking his schedules first before asking. He told you to insert Chaelin’s visit on one of his them. That made you wonder if she was one of those rumored models caught leaving Jaehyun’s penthouse and office. But you shook your mind off the thought. Clearly, you have no business wondering about those kinds of things. He is your boss and you are his secretary. You would never meddle in his personal life.

Maggie was right, Jung Jaehyun was indeed aloof. He eats alone and employees never really stay in his office longer than ten minutes. Maximum. And they would always come out with their hand on their chest, heaving a deep sigh. He didn’t welcome small talk and he was all about business. Slowly, you have grounded and reminded yourself exactly where your place was inside the office; and that is inside his territory, but out of his life.

It was easy to master the perfect taste of his coffee. And yes, you would admit, you almost collapsed on your knees when he first tasted your office-made americano. You even stayed for two minutes after he took a sip, hoping for some good comments but he just raised a brow at you. That was your cue to exit. Just like what Maggie reminded you, Jung Jaehyun does not eat breakfast often as a normal person would. But today, he finally ordered one.

Chaelin, who called you, finally arrived fifteen-minutes ago. If Jaehyun looked like a king, Chaelin was his queen — or so you assume. She carried the dominant female aura in her; ash grey hair, red lips, and red bottoms, with a 90’s silk dress hugging her body paired with a Chanel purse. Everything about her screams perfection. You were glad that she smiled softly towards you after you guided her towards Mr. Jung’s office; making you more comfortable in her presence instantly. Maybe that was why you were preparing breakfast for the duo.

The whole office is lonesome. The surrounding eerily silent with literally only the three of you on the whole floor. All you could hear was the crisp sound of the slices of bacon as you fry them, and the thud of the knife against the chopping board as you prepare his apples— fresh and pristine on the plate.

Everything was ready in twenty-five minutes. You placed the food on a clean tray before walking towards Mr. Jung’s office. Balancing all of it with your hip, you pushed the door slightly. The main office stood empty before you, but you heard their murmurs silently echoing from the meeting area that was adjacent to Mr. Jung’s office.

Reluctant to barge in without asking for their permission, your steps slowed. But Mr. Jung ordered for a breakfast today, he must have been hungry. You did not want to make him wait, or his visitor— so you inhaled and exhaled, continuing your walk towards the meeting area.

“So basically, this visit is to tell me to clean up your own mess?”

You heard Mr. Jung asked, contempt clear in his voice. It definitely felt like the conversation is not for anyone to hear. You hesitated in your position.

“This is not my mess. It’s theirs. How many times—” Chaelin was obviously frustrated by the tone of her voice. You heard a playful chuckle from your boss, interrupting the lady’s discourse.

“And how many times do I have to tell you that I. Do. Not. Give. A. Flying. Fuck.”

“Come on! You’re the only creature here on Earth who could do what needs to be done.” Chaelin sounded tired, worn out from the male’s large ego.

You were about to turn on your heel and walk away, the conversation clearly was between both of them alone, and you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were just torn between serving their food or walking away. You started doing the latter until Mr. Jung’s voice boomed in the whole office that you literally felt the plates in the tray shook.

“Who’s there?!”

You froze on your spot— and your breathing too. It wasn’t just a question. It was a scream of command to reveal yourself. You didn’t even know how he had known someone staying outside the meeting area. Before you could run away from the scene, you heard footsteps coming your way. You turned around to face your boss, you regretted doing so. He was looking at you with his emotionless eyes. And you felt a trickle ran down your spine as he continued walking towards you— grabbing your arms like he wanted to crush your bones. You were too shocked to even feel the pain but it was there, slowly slicing through your skin, certain it was going to leave a bruise.

“What did you hear?” He asked, rage evident in his voice. Chaelin was looking at the both of you, not enjoying the scene but also anticipating for your answer.

You squeezed your eyes shut because you couldn’t stand looking at his eyes as they seemed to burn you to ashes. “N-nothing, Sir.” You trembled.

He pinned you down with that same, deadly stare. His body only a tray away from yours, you could smell his spicy perfume mixing with the smell of portions of bacon and eggs. And his face, too close, so close he almost seemed familiar. He stared at you, not saying anything with his mouth but shooting you death threats with his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. Your knees began to wobble but before you could lose your balance, Chaelin decided to intrude.

“Jaehyun, let go of the girl. She’s telling the truth.”

His hand automatically slid away from your arms. He drew a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his raven-black hair. You let out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived as he spoke with his toneless voice again.

“Get the fuck out of this room. Now.” His back facing you while he gripped the edge of the table.

You gathered all your strength, placing the tray on the small table two steps away from you. You were dumbfounded and beyond scared, you didn’t even bother to arrange their plates, you dashed towards the door like a contender in a marathon.

The moment the oak door closed behind you only did you allow yourself to breathe. It came out shaky. But surprisingly, there were no tears rolling down your cheeks. You simply clutched your chest; the pain in your arm numb because of your fear.

It was only your first week. Yet all you wanted to do was resign and get the hell out of the building.

With a glass of liquor in one hand, Jaehyun stared at the vast expanse of the city lights below from his penthouse; thinking that every twinkling light is his to conquer. He was always been fond of high grounds; it reminded him of his place before he was cast out of heaven and became the most infamous fallen in the history of mankind.

The fall. History had withered and repeated itself for millions of years. Yet he still could not forget how it felt like to fall into nothingness, with the gates of heaven closing in before his very eyes.

Did it hurt? The poets tried to ask the unknown; they bled ink trying to fathom the feelings of Lucifer when the Almighty and every angel declared him a traitor. Yet no poem had the exact metaphors to decipher his doom.

Did it hurt? Jaehyun sometimes asks himself the same question. Did it hurt when his wings started to smolder with fire as he plunged into the abyss of nothingness and into the Earth? Did it hurt when every bone in his body twisted and shattered as he landed into hard ground of a place too grave to be called heaven? Did it hurt when he was all bruises and blood and ill-fated to burn into the pits of hell? Just like the poets, Jaehyun has not found the metaphor to describe the feeling; but unlike them, he knew too well how it felt like.

He had lost count of the millennia that had past. He had lost count of his own age if he ever had one. The world made its inevitable change. And it continues to change, leaving him behind. Because he was still him; all wings and sins. Forever damned, forever unforgiven.

He was there when religion had been born, and he watched as the pious made different names to describe him; Prince of hell, the devil, Satan, the Fallen Angel. He watched them cursed him and condemned those who believed in him. And back then he realized that people were quick to describe and hate something they do not understand.

Kings and queens died. Kingdoms rose and fell, and he watched them all with obloquy in his face. Because he couldn’t believe that despite the spitefulness of humans against each other, the Almighty still loved them above all else.

They say he was destined to burn in hell, but his true punishment lay more grievous than being scorched alive. He pulled a locket out of his pocket with his too pale hands. Opening the little old golden thing, it didn’t fail to make his breath run wild every time he looked at the picture inside. The girl is smiling, the one thing she does not practice usually.

How many years has it been? He forgot the faces of his friends and of his enemies. Yet the one thing he could not forget is her ocean eyes and how her lips tasted salvation in his.

One hundred years, my love, he whispered.

One hundred years of her gone, and one hundred years of him keeping her closest to his aching heart despite the death that separates them both. And he would do everything to live; to keep her as his secret, to keep her alive in him.

That was when his thoughts weaved its way to you. A girl who has the ability to ruin everything he holds dear in his damned eternity. You might’ve heard things earlier; he wasn’t sure. The way your eyes looked at him frantically and how your body almost convulsed in his touch, he couldn’t explain why but he never wants to see that same reaction painted on your face again.

Drinking the last contents of his glass and with a touch of warning in his voice, he whispered your name against the miles that are separating you both. With the hopes that it would caress and remind you of the storm coming.

A mere mortal like you is nothing compared to his ancient greatness. Yet the thought of a human knowing his secret nagged in his system even if he didn’t want to. He couldn’t let you out his sight. Not tomorrow, not ever.

masterlist.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): Before His Birth, His Birth and His Childhood

The Prophet is Given to a Foster Mother

The universe, which rejoined its master was joyful. The heart of the Arabia, which harbored the person that would provide the heart of the humanity with light and peace, was very excited.

Makkah, in which the unmatched event of the universe took place, was so excited and joyful that it was as if it wanted to fly to the lofty realms.

Hazrat Amina was peaceful and jubilant. It was as if the sweet smiles of her lovely child were helping her to forget a tinge of the intense pain that she felt over her husband’s death. Her child was her only consolation that secured her hope for the future.

The fortunate Amina could only suckle her glorious child for week. After this, Abu Lahab’s handmaiden, Lady Suwayba became the wet nurse of the Master of the Universe and suckled him for days. 

Before that, Lady Suwayba had nourished Hazrat Hamza. In this way, she had attained the fortune and honor of being the means in joining the Holy Prophet (PBUH) and his esteemed uncle as foster brothers.

The Master of the Universe (PBUH), who possessed such virtue and feelings of faithfulness, never forgot the smallest favors that people did for him, nor did he leave them unrequited. Throughout his entire life, he never forgot Lady Suwayba who nourished him for a period of time. He would frequently visit her and would always show her kindness, respect, and pay her compliments.

Yes, faithfulness was the foundation of good manners that the Holy Prophet (PBUH) brought to the face of the Earth. The smallest trace of ingratitude cannot be found in the immaculate and upright life of   our Beloved Messenger (PBUH).

At one point in time, Hazrat Khadija, who had taken lessons from the Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) virtue and gratitude, wanted to purchase Lady Suwayba, who would frequently visit Hazrat Khadija’s home, for the purpose of setting her free; however, Abu Lahab did not lend himself to this idea. It was not until after the Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) migration to Medina that Abu Lahab freed Lady Suwayba on his own. 

Abu Lahab was our Holy Prophet ‘s (PBUH) own paternal uncle. Afterwards he did not testify and admit to the Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) Prophethood; he did not forsake being a pagan and did not refrain from his attempts in being our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) biggest enemy, either. For this reason, he incurred the wrath of Allah and did not earn a value that is equivalent to the nail of his slave, Lady Suwayba. In fact, it has been explained that because of Lady Suwayba, Abu Lahab has obtained a driblet of grace in the afterlife.

After his death, he was seen in a dream where he was found screaming in the severe punishment of hell. They asked him: “Why are you screaming? What is the matter?”

He answered: “What else could be the matter? The absence of water is making me burn! I never saw any good in my life, yet I did find one fortune: Because I set the woman, who nourished Muhammad, free, I have been spared the opportunity to absorb water and be watered” and as he said this, he showed his index finger (the finger that testifies faith). 

This incident is certainly a case in point. A ferocious enemy of Islam, like Abu Lahab, who did not refrain from oppressing, torturing, and insulting the Master of the Universe throughout his entire life, was the recipient of such beneficence and grace and a tinge of his punishment in hell was alleviated. This means that goodness done not only upon our Beloved Messenger PBUH, but also upon those who have served him, is also not left unrequited by God Almighty’s grace and beneficence.

In addition, one should think of the greatness in gifts, favors, and Divine endowments of the eternal realm that are awaiting those who have made the Master of the Universe (PBUH) their absolute imam and guide in every matter and the true believers who have felt honored to uphold his Sunnah on the Earth .

The Custom of Giving Babies to Wet Nurses

Mecca’s weather was hot and muggy. It did was not good for the children’s delicate nature and was not a favorable condition for a healthy upbringing. In the desert, the weather was nice, the water was sweet and clean, life was easy, and the climate was mild. Besides, some of the tribes that lived in the desert had a language and diction that was smooth and sharp. They maintained their nobility and practiced good conduct.

Based on this, the Qurayshi gentry and leading figures practiced the custom of handing their children over to the tribal women in the desert to be breastfed for a cost, so that their children could grow and be brought up under healthier conditions and to learn and speak a dialect of Arabic that was appropriate in its essential form. The child would remain with his/her wet nurse for 2-3 years, and sometimes even more.

For this reason, many tribes that lived in the uplands/prairies, Sa’d bin Bakr’s tribe in particular, would have a caravan of women go to Mecca a few times a year in which the women would take the newly-born infants with them to their homeland for the purpose of nourishment.

Among the tribes in the vicinity of Mecca, Sa’d bin Bakr’s tribe was the one that had acquired fame since it was distinguished for its honor, generosity, chivalry, humility, and speaking Arabic properly. For this reason, the leading figures of Quraysh mostly wanted to hand the custody of their children over to the women of this tribe.

The Arrival of the Women from Bani Bakr’s Tribe to Mecca

The Holy Prophet (PBUH) was being nourished by Lady Suwayba.

At that time, a strong drought was prevalent in the homeland of Sad’s sons although such a strong drought had not occurred till then. The drought resulted in a famine that left the tribal community poor and miserable. It was so bad that they had difficulty finding something to eat. Their camels and sheep had weakened and their milk had ceased.

During this year of intense famine and drought, the tribeswomen of the Bani Bakr had gone to Mecca in a crowded procession with the intention of finding a child to nourish and of obtaining a portion of their livelihood.

All of the women, with the exception of one extraordinary lady, had chosen a child who was appropriate for them. Strangely enough, none of them chose nor approached our Beloved Messenger (PBUH) because they thought they would not be able to obtain much money and help since he was an orphan.

There was only one woman who arrived late in Mecca. She was distinguished among her tribe for her decency, cleanliness, gentleness, and modesty. Due to their old and frail donkey, Halima and her husband had fallen behind the rest of the procession. When they entered Mecca, all of the newly-born Qurayshi children, with the exception of one very extraordinary infant, had been chosen by the women of the Bani Bakr tribe that were in the forefront.  With the fate and wisdom of the Possessor of the Absolute Power, Halima could not find anyone in need of nourishment.

Her husband, Harith, was sad, too. All of their friends shared the children of the wealthy families among themselves. She was the only one who was left empty-handed and it was only because she arrived late.

This virtuous woman, who now had a pale and sad countenance and was unaware of the plan that Divine fate had drawn for her, wandered the streets of Mecca with despair and the distress of not being able to find an appropriate fitting child.

Incidentally, she encountered an old man with a friendly face and who, through his presence, summoned the respect of his surroundings. This individual was Abdulmuttalib, the grandfather of the Master of the Universe (PBUH). They looked each other as if they had been looking to become the relief for their troubles. Then they began to engage in conversation:

Abdulmuttalib asked, “Where are you from?”

Halima: “I am a woman from the Bani Sa’d Tribe” (Sons of Fortune/Luck)

Abdulmuttalib: “What is your name?”

She answered, “Halima”.

Abdulmuttalib: “How wonderful! How wonderful!  Fortune and gentleness are two traits that carry the beneficence of this world and the honor and glory of the afterlife” After he said this, Abdulmuttalib took a deep breath and followed with: "Oh, Halima! I have an orphaned child next to me. I offered him to the women of the Sons of Sa’d but they did not accept him. Come and be the wet nurse of this child. Maybe you will attain prosperity, wealth, and fortune for taking care of him”.

At first, Halima became hesitant upon hearing this unexpected offer. However, she did not want to return to her homeland empty-handed. For this reason, she overcame her hesitation and accepted the offer from within. Nevertheless, she did not want to disclose her answer without first asking and receiving permission from her husband. She immediately returned to her husband and after she explained everything to him she said, “I was unable to find a child to nourish. I do not favor going back empty-handed among my friends. By God, I am going to take that orphan”.

Her husband, Harith, supported her view and said, “There is no harm in taking him. Perhaps Allah will endow us with prosperity and blessings thanks to him”. 

Upon this, they returned to Abdulmuttalib.

Abdulmuttalib took Halima to Hazrat Amina’s modest home which the Beloved Prophet (PBUH) illuminated.

Halima went to our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) bedside. Our lovely Master (PBUH) was wrapped in a white fabric made from wool and was sleeping soundly on a blanket of green yarn. The surrounding smelled like musk!

Halima was in a state of amazement. She immediately warmed up to this child so much that she could not bear to wake him up!

The cloud of gloom and anguish had left Halima. She was so happy that it was as if she was walking on air. It was such a great bliss to have suddenly come across an infant of excessive beauty after squirming in the distress of not being able to find a child.

Halima could not resist anymore. She neared the Master of the Universe’s (PBUH) bedside very closely and slightly lifted the corner of his blanket. With a mother’s love and compassion, she kissed his forehead and hands that smelled like roses and that were softer than cotton and as white as snow.

At that moment, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) opened his eyes and replied to Halima’s kisses with a sweet smile. They got along with one another.

While one of them was in despair because of not being able to find a child, worn out, and downhearted, the other was a radiant orphan who had been rejected by the women. Fate had filled both of their worlds with happiness.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

The sharing bed prompts I loveee that shit. What about “person A hogs all the covers and person B’s solution is to spoon them” and “does that feel good” with Rami as person B?

All right—I took some liberties with this prompt, and while it isn’t smut, it is fluffy and fun. Perhaps there needs to be a Part II, but for now, here you go : )

Y/N is the press tour director for Bohemian Rhapsody, so essentially, she is in charge of the boys. This is totally AU-ish, and this is also the first time I’ve written Joe and Gwil. Forgive me if it’s bad. 

* * * * *

Having been on the road with the boys for several weeks, I knew it was never anything that was going to make my life easier when they started being exhaustingly charming to me and only me.

“Cut the shit, boys. What do you want?”

Rami grinned, but I shook my head, “Nope—don’t try that either. What do you want?”

Rami’s smile faltered, and he sighed. He licked his lips, tucking his bottom one between his teeth, and I turned away, refusing to let any of his ticks affect me now.

Everyone on the tour could see the way we looked at each other, but I had a job to do. Rami was an actor, and this press tour was only going to be one small part of his life. But for me, this press tour’s success could send my name right to the top of the PR list, ensuring I’d never have to work three jobs to make ends meet again.

And no one, no one knew that.

This was Hollywood; people weren’t interested in the rags to riches story anymore. All that mattered was what your life looked like, so I made sure to consistently project a strong, confident woman with nothing to lose.

Except that right now, it sounded like I was going to be forced to make a very difficult decision: to keep up appearances by giving over to the boys’ demands, or to buckle, revealing how much the success of this tour really meant for me.

Joe stepped forward and popped onto the edge of the desk in my hotel room, crossing his legs and changing his voice to a high, nasally pitch.

“Well, ya see Mista Sheffield,” Joe said in his best Fran Fine impression, “as the nanny, it’s clear ya been makin’ these kids work way too hard. If they don’t get a break, it could be very bad for their health—and yours,” he added with a wink.

Sighing, I pushed back from my desk and looked at Joe, who re-crossed his legs and batted his eyes.

“I’ll consider your offer if you put on one of Nanny Fine’s skirts, Mazzello.”

“Uh, did you not see the pictures of us in drag? Only Rami’s got the stems to pull that look off.”

I flicked my eyes over to Rami and he smiled, although it was a shyer smile than usual. However, I didn’t look back at Joe. Rami was almost always the leader of their schemes, so I asked, for the third time, what exactly they wanted.

“Since our stop in the next city has been delayed, we thought we could have some time to . . . explore Italy.”

“And?”

“We want to rent a car—”

You started shaking your head no, but Rami pressed on.

“We want to rent a car and drive. We have plenty of time to get there—”

“And if something goes wrong? My god Rami—we are talking about an extra 48 hours, not a week!”

“Nothing will go wrong. You have my word.”

“Those are the most famous last words in every movie, television show, and novel produced in the last century!” I said, my voice rising as I stood up from the desk chair.

“We’ve already mapped it out and it only takes twelve hours longer than the train you have scheduled,” Rami spoke in a rush, moving to stand in front of me and to grasp my upper arms. “We have our cell phones. And . . .”

“And?” I prompted.

“And you’ll be with us,” Rami finished, his voice low and soothing as his eyes burned into mine.

I had to close my eyes to escape his spell because what he was saying was actually not as unreasonable of a request as I had been sure it was going to be. Backing away from Rami’s grip, I sat down on my bed with a plop.

“What does Gwil say?”

“It was his idea.”

“Oy vey,” I said, flopping back onto the bed.

The bed bounced as Joe landed beside me, perfectly propped up on his elbow.

“Soooo maaaa, what do ya say?”

“If—oof,” I said bouncing as Rami landed on my other side.

“If Joseph Mazzello agrees to never impersonate The Nanny again, we can take the car.”

The boys laugh and plant twin kisses on my cheeks and I give them both a hard shove away from me.

“But if anything, ANYTHING happens, I am holding you, Rami Malek, personally responsible,” I said as I stood up and glowered down at him.

“Ooo, Ram, man. That means she’s docking your pay.”

“Don’t care, Joey!” Rami cried as he exaggeratedly sniffed the air. “Can you smell that?”

“What . . . should I be smelling . . .”

“It’s the smell of FREEDOM!” Rami roared as he thumped Joe on the chest, hard enough to make him groan, then start giggling.

A small wrestling match ensued before I yelled at them to get out before they broke my bed.

“Go tell Gwil the good news,” I begged, making them freeze as Rami’s head poked out from under Joe’s stomach after Joe had pinned him with his entire torso.

They scrambled off the bed, each of them fixing their hair as they hurried out of the room to tell Gwilym the good news.

I sat down on my disheveled bedding and bowed my head, praying to whatever god that would listen for this minor detour to happen without a hitch.

The boys, as high-energy as they could be, had been giving their all at every event and had been working ungodly hours. If I could do this for them, they deserved to enjoy it.

* * * * *

God.

The master of the universe.

The almighty creator.

The powers that be.

The flying spaghetti monster.

It didn’t matter what the higher power I prayed to went by, whoever or whatever it was, hated me.

No.

It loathed me, and I became convinced that it got off on circumventing any possible happiness I could have in my life.

I fought back tears as I followed the boys through the sopping cow field, at least I assumed that’s what it was because it was nearly 2 in the morning and the only lights we had were our dying cellphones (which had no service, of course) and one tiny flashlight that had been jammed between the seat in the back of our too-small rental car.

It certainly smells like a cow field, I thought as my foot landed in something that felt suspiciously more squishy than sopping grass.

We were all damned lucky that we hadn’t had anything other than our pride hurt when a whopping pile of mud from the endless rain slid across the road pushing our car over an embankment and into a field. The car had refused to start, and we waited for over two hours for another vehicle to pass.

It was getting cold, so I finally said, “We can’t wait here all night.”

The boys all looked out the window and into the pouring rain.

“Look at the sign,” Gwil said pointing at something that was on the other side of the immense field. “Looks like a vacancy banner.”

“Like the boss said, we can’t wait here all night. It’s not like a cellphone tower is going to sprout up from all the rain,” Joe said.

“Pop the trunk,” I said, moving to open the door and step out into the rain.

Rami grabbed my arm and spoke in a voice that was heartbreakingly earnest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know,” I said, shaking him off and opening the door.

Luckily, we had all packed light and our bags were easy to carry. Rami tried to take mine and I refused; the last thing I wanted to feel at this moment was like a damsel in distress.

The walk took well over an hour, but it was exactly as Gwil said: a vacancy sign, except that none of us could have predicted that it was a place that made the Bates Motel look like a St. Regis.

We paused despite the pouring rain and looked at each other.

Joe nudged Rami, who faltered, but then took the lead and opened the ratchety front door, a chunk of sopping old paint glopping down on his shoe as he stepped through the doorframe.

We all shuffled in behind him, and it was clear the lobby was not meant for gatherings of people. Gwil and I stood elbow to elbow, a dusty shelf of outdated brochures brushing against my arm.

Rami angled himself forward and rang the rusty bell.

It made a pitiful ding that matched its home.

Rami’s hair was plastered to his head and falling into his eyes. While we waited, he slicked it back and I noticed it was almost long enough to tuck behind his ears when it was wet.

Meanwhile, Joe hadn’t missed the way I watched Rami, even in this dire circumstance. He was one of the many who knew how we felt about each other and he also knew that had been a strong part of the reason for this trip. Rami had confessed to him that he believed if he could get me to forget about the bustle of the tour, even for a day or two, he’d have a shot at figuring out if I was interested in him.

Joe’s insistence that I was just wasn’t enough. Rami wanted to be sure before he made a move, especially if it could mean turning the great dynamic we had established between all of us into something forced and uncomfortable.

“Hit it again,” Gwil said, his normally patient self becoming agitated. He hated to be dirty, and I knew he was thinking about a hot shower.

Hell, I knew we were all thinking about a hot shower.

Rami reached for the bell again, but before he could press it, a very old man shuffled out to the desk, his hoary head not more than a foot taller than the desk itself. He was wrapped up tight in a robe and there were slippers on his feet.

He began speaking in Italian and the dialect was so strong that we all looked at each other in utter confusion.

“English?” Rami asked in a desperate plea.

The old man cocked his head, little wisps of white hair billowing with his movement.

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Gwil muttered, his voice tired.

“Rami—”

He turned around and looked at me.

“The key hooks on the wall.”

Rami nodded, his mouth puckering as he thought.

“We need rooms for the night,” Rami said, pointing to the keys on the wall. “Uh, camera, per favore.”

The man nodded, “Si, si,” and took two keys off the wall.

He began speaking once more, but Rami pointed to the last key hanging on the wall, trying to get another room in case one of the rooms was too small for all three of the boys to share.

“No, no,” the man said waving the two keys from the wall in front of Rami’s face and speaking some more.

It was clear we were getting the last two rooms the man had.

“La moneta!” he barked when Rami held his hand out for the keys, and we all reached into our bags for whatever we had in Italian currency.

The old man gave us a total and Joe counted it out. After the man recounted the money, he handed the keys to Rami and pointed toward the darkest section of the motel.

Again, we all cast a glance at each other, but once we were back outside in the pouring rain, Rami took the lead and walked off toward the dark rooms.

He tried one key, then the other and reached blindly along the wall for a light switch after the door had creaked open. A single lamp flicked on, and we were greeted by the smallest room I had ever seen. There was an ancient television propped up on a stand, one chair, and one bed that looked to be no bigger than an extra-large twin.

Rami glanced at me, then hurried to the next door, shaking the key furiously in the lock to get the door to open.

It was the same room, right down to the extra-large twin bed.

Rami looked at Joe and Gwil and said, “I don’t suppose the three of us could—”

“Oh for pete’s sake, Rami. Come on,” you said tugging his jacket’s sleeve and hauling him back into the other room.

Joe and Gwil exchanged a look, and despite their exhaustion, smiles crept across their faces.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Rami turned around and locked the chain.

With a sigh, he started to apologize again, but I cut him off.

“Rami—no one could have predicted this would happen. I’m sure we will laugh about this . . . if we don’t get axe murdered in the night.”

“Did you ever see that episode of the Twilight Zone where—”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare plant some freaky image in my mind before we have to try to fall asleep.”

Rami gave me a small smile before he finally dropped his soaked bag on to the floor.

“We may have to wring out all our clothes,” he said frowning with disgust at his wet luggage.

“First, I’m taking the hottest shower in history,” I said, marching into the bathroom, then proceeding to scream as I collided face to chest with a mostly naked Gwilym.

Rami and Joe both burst in from their doors, and then they started laughing.

“Your faces,” Joe squeaked out.

Gwil and I looked at each other and broke, laughing until we cried at the absurdity of the entire situation.

Ever the gentleman, Gwil offered the bath, and yes, it was an old clawfoot bathtub, not a shower, first.

“No—you go for it,” I said patting his shoulder and following a still chuckling Rami out of the door who was swiping at the tears that had leaked down his cheeks during his laughing fit.

I collapsed onto the uncomfortable, putrid yellow chair, a puff of laughter escaping in intermittent bursts as I remembered the feeling of my nose colliding with Gwil’s chest.

“Damnit,” I growled, leaning back in the chair.

“What is it?” Rami asked from the seat he had taken across from me on the edge of the bed.

“My shoe strings are so wet I can’t untie them and my shoes are too tight to kick off.”

“Let me try,” he said, moving to kneel in front of my shoe. “Wow—okay. That’s definitely cowshit.”

Laughter burbled up from my throat again as I stared at Rami’s fingers working my shit-covered laces, and he looked up at me, his nose crinkled, his hair a mess, and I laughed harder until he joined in.

“When you win an Oscar for Freddie, I’m going to remember this moment,” I said, smiling down at him as he freed my right foot.

“Shut up,” Rami said with a smile. “Never gonna happen.”

“Why are you so afraid to let yourself want it?”

“For the same reason you’re so afraid this tour will be a disaster,” Rami finished with a grunt as he freed my left foot and sat back on his butt, getting ready to work his own tennis shoes off.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rami wiped his fingers on the shins of his soaked pants and looked up.

“You’re not the only one who came from almost nothing, Y/N. We recognize our own kind in this world.”

“But—”

“My parents worked really hard to make sure we had opportunities, but that was about all we had.”

“I didn’t know.”

Rami and I looked at each other, and for the first time I realized what we had in common: an insatiable hunger, a need to prove ourselves.

I know it seems like it only happens in the movies, but as soon as I made that realization, it was like a jolt of electricity went through my body. I had never wanted to kiss someone more than I did in that moment, and just as I was about to drop to the floor and close the distance, Gwil knocked from inside the bathroom.

“Your turn, Y/N!” he called.

I shook my head and stood up, hurrying into the bathroom.

By the time we had all rotated through, Joe going last and informing us with a loud, “Yikes!” that the hot water was all gone, I was exhausted and settled under the minimal covers on the bed.

Rami had been sitting in the yellow chair for the past half an hour, trying to get his cellphone to work.

“We’ll use the phone at the front desk in the morning,” I mumbled sleepily. “Let’s get some rest before the rooster crows. Cuz I guarantee there’s one roaming around out there unless the axe murderer was in the mood for chicken.”

Rami’s laughter was soft as he rose up from the chair and walked over to the light switch.

“Should we leave it on?”

“Try it.”

Rami flicked the switch and the room was plunged into darkness, but after a few moments, it was clear that the light from the vacancy sign was going to shine right through the damn-near sheer curtain covering the window.

“I think we’re okay—you locked the door, right?”

Rami fumbled along the door and double checked.

“Yup.”

I listened as he made his way back to the bed and he shuffled some sort of item of clothing off. When his cold feet accidentally connected with mine, I knew it was his socks.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Can’t stand to sleep with socks on.”

“Me either,” I said to the wall I was facing.

Rami moved around in the bed, attempting to get comfortable and to keep an appropriate distance between our bodies, but when I moved, he gasped as all the covers moved with me.

“Sorry,” I groaned.

“I think this bed is clearly meant for one person.”

“Or two people as tiny as that old man.”

Rami chuckled, and then he sighed.

“There’s a solution . . . if you’re okay with it.”

“Lay it on me, Ram.”

Rami said nothing, but he rolled onto his side and pressed his body into my back. He adjusted his arms, eventually resting his left hand in the dip at my waist.

“At least I’m getting warmer now,” I said sleepily.

Rami took that as an invitation and snuggled in deeper, sliding his arm all the way over my waist so he could spoon me.

“I really am sorry for all of this,” Rami whispered into the back of my neck.

“I’m not,” I said, reaching for his hand and pulling it up between my breasts so I could clutch it to my chest.

Rami hummed contentedly, and we both drifted off to sleep.

[sohin-ace]

I loved your skincare hcs,, could you give some actual skincare advice? I have dry, sensitive, acne prone skin and I sort of want to cry some days because of it :((

*cracks knuckles* Oh, you have unleashed the beast my gangster...

I am such a skin care guru.

Personnal tips on Dry, Acne Prone and Sensitive skin.

Before I start, know that I am in no way a dermatologist and my advices are based on my own personnal studies and experiences.

First of all

Those are the very basics and I will assume if you ask me for help, that means you already do those things and these have been repeated enough so I will be brief but,

Drink water

Cut sugars, greasy food/fast food, and dairy.

Sleep properly.

Now, those are obvious, I'll be assuming you already follow those advices by now. 

Please note that if you don't, everything that I state below will be useless.

External treatment

1. Acne

For your acne you need to do a 'face mapping'. Track the places on your face where you break out to understand where your acne comes from.

Forehead/Temples= Poor diet, having bangs, not rinsing your hair products properly

Nose = Poor Diet

Cheeks = Hormones, germs from phone, unclean pillow case

Chin/Jaw = Hormones

Now that you have an idea of the potential sources of your problems you can work on that. Now how to treat the current acne spots/zits?

DONT TOUCH THEM

I INSIST

Use acne patches, I recommend CosRX’s ones (that you can find on yesstyle)

Use panthenol, also called Vitamin B5. It has amazing healing properties and I highly suggest you use it on your acne (especially if you made the mistake to pop it) and any other open wounds. If you live in Europe I recommend Laroche Posay.

DONT POP YOUR ZITS

Use a clean cloth/towel and warm it up with hot water. Gently press the warm towel on your spot until it cools down, then repeat for 20 minutes, or as many times as you can in the day. This will warm up the sebum and melt it, the heat will bring it to the surface and it will be easier to treat it.

Some are skeptical to this, but 100% cold pressed Tea tree oil did help for a while, but I don’t use it anymore though

NEVER TOUCH YOUR ACNE

Niacinamide helps tremendously with regulating my acne and get rid of pores, but I don’t think sebum is your problem with your dry skin.

2. Dryness

I don’t have dry skin myself, so there is only so much I will tell you in terms of recommendation.

Centella Asiatica (vegan)

Hyaluronic Acid (marine if you’re vegan)

Dermal Lipids and Amino Acids

Propolis (not vegan)

Snail Mucin (not vegan)

Glycerin (Vegeta pleasel!!)

Oils with a Oleic >>> Linoleic acid Ratio (Avocado, Hazelnut, Macadamia, Olive, Sweet Almond, Palm Fruit, Marula, Sea Buckthorn, Green Tea) or more balanced ratio (good for combo skin: Jojoba, Flaxseed, Tamanu, Argan, Coconut, Castor, Sesame)

You shall abuse the use of toners. I would recommend you turn yourself towards Korean Skincare brands for Toners, but I will come back to that.

3. Sensitivity

Now, this is tricky. There are many degrees of sensitivities and unless you give me more details, I cannot diagnose your specific case. However,

There are two main factors that can highly affect your skin sensitivity.

UV Exposure

Exfoliation (over exfoliating or harsh treating of your skin)

When your skin is sensitized, it could be that your natual skin barrier has been damaged.

PLEASE, always wear sunscreen. Including in WINTER, and at HOME. I insist.

Paula’s Choice has a vast catalog of amazing sunscreens as well as the brand Purito. Choose SPF 50 PA+++ spectrum and try to find a foundation with SPF Protection as well.

Prioritize Chemical exfoliator over Physical exfoliator. DO NOT combine both or I swear to God Almighty watching me from Heaven, you will suffer. This is a threat.

When using AHAs and BHA/ Salycilic Acid, be mindful of the percentage and start very low and gently. I’d recommend you use soft AHAs like Lactic Acid (5%, then slowly work your way through 10%, then more), and if you’re Vegan, Glycolic acid at ~10% (then more).

In case you feel sensitive and strong burns, I recommend calming serums and please ABUSE Madecassoside creams.

I recommend A’pieu for Madecassoside and Laroche Posay’s Lipikar AP+ for reactions (also helps for skin conditions like psoriasis and if you self-harm this can soothe your wounds immensely!)

 Conclusion

You read through all this? Congratulations, my gangster! 

I will recommend the brands The Ordinary, Laroche Posay, Paula’s choice, CosRX as well as many Korean Brands that I cannot list.

Those are more tan enough for every budget and I would recomment you invest the most money on Exfoliators and Sunscreens. Everything else can be low-priced and aren’t worth more than $8-12 approx.

If you are in your twenties I would highly suggest you start your Vitamin C journey (it is quite the journey)

I love skin care, it is such an adventure for me and I always have so much fun establishing my routine.

Remember that skin is the biggest organ of your body, and like any other organ, you have to take care of it and treat it kindly. Use gentle motions when you manipulate your face, don’t rub, don’t man-handle yourself, gently pat and massage your face it will thank you ;)

Good luck to you my gangster!

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Every day is Valentine's Day... Bucky Barnes x reader

Re-uploading…

Thank you @mandieezzzles-blog​ for this request!

- A Bucky one where the reader is waiting for him in sexy lingerie that he loves

Warnings: 18+ readers, fingering, dirty talk, sex

Black was Bucky’s colour. His life seemed to be surrounded by it, it’s what he felt comfortable with. That’s until he met you (again). You first met each other when you helped Steve, Natasha, and Sam to stop ‘The Winter Soldier�� and Hydra, you met briefly after he’d shot Natasha and you began fighting with him. You might not have seemed as if you were strong enough to fight against him, but you had enough in you to hold him off until Steve could take over.

But the day when he saw you in a different light was when Steve and Tony had split the team in two arguing over Bucky and the Accords. You’d sided with Tony only because he was like your brother and you believed doing so would benefit the world even though you had no intention of following ‘the rules’.

That day you all fought, Tony almost killed Bucky but you ‘accidentally’ blocked Tony’s line of fire so Bucky could make it to the Quinjet. You knew he wasn’t to blame for what Hydra had made him do for all those years. With a slight wave of your hand and a sad smile, you watched your best friend leave with the man you’d found yourself falling for. That’s why you sided with Tony. For the first time, Bucky found his dark life with some light breaking through the cracks.

———-

“Doll?” Bucky shouted as he walked into your shared apartment, his mission bag hitting the floor as he kicked his boots off and shut the door behind him.

You and Bucky had been together since the fight against Thanos. You were almost killed by one of his soldiers but Bucky stood in the line of fire like you had for him years before. When he turned around to make sure you were okay, you pulled him down into a hard kiss before punching him, telling him he was never to do something so stupid like that again. To this day he does if it means protecting you.

Bucky listened carefully not hearing your answer, assuming you were asleep since it was 3:30 am. He sighed tiredly as he headed into the kitchen to get a drink before he headed for your bedroom, the excitement of falling asleep with you in his arms filled him as he neared the door. A faint orange glow flickered from under the door. Must have left the lamp in, he thought to himself as he reached for the doorknob as he took a sip of his drink.

Bucky choked on his drink as his eyes widened at the sight of you. “Fuck-“

“Happy Valentines Day, Sergeant Barnes.” You spoke seductively to your boyfriend.

That damn set, Bucky mentally high fives himself for buying it. Red was definitely your colour.

“Why, aren’t you asleep, doll?” He cleared his throat as he shut the bedroom door, noticing the orange flicker was from the candles you laid out, along with rose petals and what looked like various oils.

“You’ve got the day off, tomorrow and we’ve, got a rather long day ahead of us to make up for the fact you missed, Valentine’s yesterday.” You pouted a little as you crawled across the bed so you were in front of him on your hands and knees.

Bucky was meant to have returned two days ago but his mission took a turn which resulted in him missing your Valentine’s. It was coming something of a tradition he didn’t like with him having missed the last two Valentine’s, although, the makeup for it is probably much better.

Bucky gulped nodding. “I’m sorry, doll.” He whispered as he placed his hands on your waist. “I really tried to get-“

You placed your finger over his lips grinning. “Buck, it’s fine. All we were gonna do was have sex and eat chocolate.” You teased him making him chuckle.

He nodded smirking. “Actually, I wanted to show you off to the whole of New York.” He glanced over at your floor-length window. He’d been thinking about it for a while.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “But, you hate being in the public eye.”

Bucky grinned as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours gently. “But I love being inside you.” He whispered against your lips, both of you smiling at one another.

You pressed your lips against his again as you slowly began undressing him from his uniform. As your hands came into contact with his bare chest you pushed him away from you enough to bend down, kissing his soft skin as you did until your fingers brushed the hem of his boxers. With a cheeky grin and a wink you slid his boxers down over his ass cheeks until his long, thick dick was free.

You moaned as you took in the glorious sight of his tip leaking pre-cum. With a quick lick of your lips, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around him, sucking hard on him making Buck moan loudly as he dropped his head back. His long fingers tangled into your y/h/c hair and tugged gently as his hips began moving back and forth.

“Fuck!” Bucky gasped as you cupped his balls, lightly squeezing them as you took his entire length into your mouth. His cock throbbed in your mouth, indicating he was close. “Baby- fuck- love your mouth-“ Bucky fucked your mouth as he moaned, erupting deep inside your throat.

You sucked him dry before pulling off him with a pop and a grin. You sat up taking in his state, almost proud he was a crumbling mess in front of you. Bucky breathes in deeply before grinning mischievously at you.

“My turn.” He reached forward and yanked you from your knees so you were flush against his chest as he crashed his lips against yours.

You moaned against his mouth as he pushed his tongue into yours, tasting himself. Bucky loved tasting him in your mouth, knowing you’d just swallowed him. The kiss was sloppy and full of passion as he expertly flicked the clasp and pulled your bra off before grabbing your tits in both hands and laid kisses across them.

“So, good!”

“Fuck! Buck- please, teeth.” You begged. God you loved when he bit your nipples. You loved it when he was rough with you.

Bucky chuckled as he wrapped his lips around your left nipple and began sucking, almost like he was wanting something from it before he clamped his teeth around it.

You screamed from the pleasurable pain. After a minute Bucky pulled off and repeated the same to the other one, his cock already rock hard again. His hands quickly ran down your body pulling what you had on, off before he pushed you down onto the bed. He made quick work of your red heels, throwing them across the room knocking something over as he did but he didn’t care.

“FUCK!” You moaned as he began licking your throbbing clit. “Buck- I’m gonna-“ you were so close already from him playing with your nipples and sucking his cock when he began sucking you came straight away.

“Fuck, baby- I need to be inside you!” Bucky suddenly flipped you over so you were in your knees and thrust right inside you. “YES!”

“OH FUCK!”

He grabbed your ass cheeks, pushing and pulling you into his cock. Every now and then he’d smack a cheek as he grunted. “Fuck, baby… I love you!” Bucky groaned as he slammed into you again and again.

You nodded whimpering. “I love you too, James!”

With an almighty growl came inside you, as he did he pressed his fingers against your clot and run until you were clenching around his cock and cumming.

“Fuck… think you’ve got another two in you baby?” Bucky whispered as he kissed your back softly. His hands gliding over skin as he did, the metal one cooling your boiling skin.

You nodded panting. “Have you, old man?” You bit your lip as you felt his teeth bite into your shoulder.

Bucky pulled away and gently left your over sensitive pussy. “Up!” He commanded from the end of the bed.

You slowly got to your feet and let him guide you to where he wanted you to go. You were expecting him to lay you on the bed but when the cold glass from the window hit your back you let out a surprised but welcoming moan.

Bucky dropped to his knees in front of you grinning as he let his metal hand slide up your thigh until his thumb was lazily stroking your clit. “Oh, shit…” you moaned again.

“You like that, baby?” You nodded again. “Want me to clean you up?” Your eyes widened at his words but before you could say anything he had shoved two fingers inside of your cunt, collecting himself before he reached up and pressed his fingers to your lips. You wrapped your lips around them and sucked him clean, smirking as he dropped his forehead against your stomach as he moaned. “Fuck- I need to taste you again.”

You gasped as Bucky placed your leg over his shoulder and began eating you out like a mad man. The moans of pleasure that left him were driving you insane.

“Please! Bucky, I can’t- I- please!” you whimpered.

“Shh… so good baby girl!” He sucked and nipped your clit until you were sure you couldn’t anymore but he knew you could so he worked you until you were coming again with a scream of his name. If it wasn’t for Bucky holding you against the glass you’d have fallen down for sure. Bucky kissed your body as he stood back up, pressing you against the glass. “Baby, are you okay?” He held your face in his hands.

You nodded smiling up at him. “I’m fine, baby.”

Bucky grinned as he bent down and placed a loving kiss onto your lips. Moaning against each other, your hands roamed over the others sweaty skin, shivers running down your spine from the cold glass, goosebumps forming where Bucky’s metal fingertips trailed. Bucky brushed his lips against your neck, chuckling as he licked a path up to your ear before he took your earlobe in between his teeth.

“Turn round, baby girl,” he whispered as he placed his hands on your waist. You turned round to face the window, the cold glass hardening your nipples. Bucky pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder before he trailed his fingers down your back. “God, I love you.”

He grabbed a hold of his cock and rubbed the tip of it through your wet folds before he slowly pushed forwards, filling you up. You moaned loudly as Bucky grabbed a hold of your hips, pulling back before slamming back into you again. Bucky began grunting as he fucked you hard against the window.

“Fuck… Bucky… harder!” you moaned letting your head fall back. “HARDER!” you screamed as Bucky’s cock hit that spot inside you.

Bucky moaned as you clenched around him, as his cock throbbed inside you. “Fuck! Baby, you close?” you nodded whimpering. “Fuck-” Bucky slid his hand down your front until his fingers came to your clit. He rubbed your clit as he carried on pounding into you. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

You nodded biting your lip as you felt that familiar knot in your stomach snap and you came around Bucky’s cock with a scream. “Fuck, yes!”

Bucky leaned forwards so his weight was pressing you into the window as he kissed your neck softly. “Say you love me,” he whispered against your neck.

“You know I love you, Bucky.” you breathed heavily as you rested your forehead against the window.

Bucky smiled as he pressed his face against your neck, wrapping his arms around your much smaller body. “Just, say it Y/N. I love hearing you say it… makes my cock hard.” he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Say it,” he whispered again making you giggled.

“I love you, Bucky… and your hard cock.”

[the--sad--hatter]

Mischief, Meet Your Match - Chapter Three (Loki x Reader)

WARNINGS: Violence, Swearing, Smut, Loki

SUMMARY:

Sam would say your liking for bad boys has gone too far.

Tony would kill the God of Mischief with his bare hands.

Steve would lock you in your room and never let you out.

Natasha would probably just throw you off the roof.

But there’s just something about Loki that draws you to him, and you couldn’t help it even if you wanted to.

Masterlist

When you got back to the compound you headed straight for the kitchen. Which was apparently a pattern of yours because it was where Steve was sitting, waiting for you. Or you assumed he was waiting for you by the displeasure written across his face.

 “Where have you been?” He demanded, forgoing a hello.

 You ignoring the cross looking figure sat at the counter and took a bottle of water out of the fridge, taking a gulp before you answered.

 “Out.” You shrugged.

 “Bucky said you had a doctors appointment.”

 “It was just an annual check-up, nothing to worry about.” You tried to assure Steve but his eyes lit up and you realized you’d made a mistake.

 “Actually he said you were filing your taxes, knew he was lying though.” Steve said smugly and you groaned and gently banged your head against the fridge.

“You missed the de-briefing. When I agreed to let you join the Avengers it was under certain terms, do you remember what those were?” Steve asked sternly.

 “Honestly? No. I wasn’t listening, I was just smiling and nodding along.” You said innocently.

 “Kid come on, nobody gets out of these de-briefings ok? There’s more to being a hero than punching people.” He sighed.

 “Come on Cap! Bucky, Sam and Nat have told me all the stories. You’re as much as a rule follower as I am.” You argued.

 “I’m not a great role model to have.” Steve rebutted.

 You tried to stay brave, to stay strong because you knew without a doubt that you were about to die and it probably wouldn’t be painless. There was nothing you could do about it, you couldn’t save yourself and the superhero strapped to the table next to you couldn’t either. You didn’t want to make this situation any worse for him so when they stuck the needled under your skin and you saw the blood trickling down the tubes towards your body you remained as impassive as you could.

 “Look at me.” Someone ordered and since it was The Captain and not one of your captors, you obliged.

 “I’m here ok? I’m with you.” He promised.

 If he’d lied and said you were going to be ok then you would have been able to maintain your brave façade but he had opted to give the only comfort he could. You drowned out the voices of the scientists around you and the sight of his blood being pumped into your body and focused on him, his eyes. They were full of guilt and concern for you and more than a touch of fury for what was about to happen.

 “Tell me your name.” He instructed.

 He wasn’t asking to get to know you, he wanted to be able to track down your friends and family and have something to put on your tombstone so you whispered it to him. You felt strangely cold and a shiver wracked your body, making him tense in concern.

 “I’m alone.” You said softly.

 “You aren’t, you aren’t alone, I promise.” He comforted.

 “Not here, out there. Nobody’s left to wonder where I went, what happened to me. Nobody’s gonna cry at my funeral, nobody will even turn up.” You whispered.

 So much for remaining impassive. You couldn’t help it, you were thinking back on your whole life, your tragically short and unimportant life. Maybe if you’d tried harder, been more friendly, been more loveable then you wouldn’t be such an easy target for these creeps. But it was too late and you were going to die here and all that would be left to remember you by would be Steve Rogers guilt.

 “I’ll go. I will.” He said but you had already turned away, you were barely listening anymore because you’d heard the scientist give the next order.

 “Inject her with the new serum.”

 “This will hurt I’m afraid, the easiest way for us to administer is to inject it directly into the heart.” The creepy doctor said, but he didn’t sound regretful.

 There was nowhere for you to wriggle away to, you were strapped down too tightly but when the massive needle entered your field of vision you tried anyway. You heard Steve yelling in the background and telling you to close your eyes but you couldn’t. No matter how afraid you were, you weren’t going to turn away.

 It did hurt, it hurt like hell. But the pain paled in comparison to the burn when the serum started burning through your veins, mingling with the foreign blood. It crept through your system like molten lave, setting you alight from within until your whole body was on fire. When it hit your brain you lost all sense of yourself, reduced to a husk of agony. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was screaming. You were screaming so loudly it sounded like several people yelling.

 Wait.

 It was…

 There was something happening outside of your bubble of pain and you thought that maybe you should care about it but a fresh wave of agony roared through you and you forgot all about it. Until someone said your name loudly and your restraints were ripped apart. Without them to hold you down you were thrashing wildly and you kind of noticed when you fell from the table before someone caught you and held down.

 “Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” They said.

 You grit your teeth and dug deep down for the strength and resolve to do what they said because something in your mind recognised the voice. You managed to squint enough to make out the blurry, terrified face of Steve Rogers. He looked as bad as you felt, probably because he’d been drained of quite a lot of blood. Blood that was now in your veins, tainted by poison and killing you.

 “Just hold on ok? Doctor Banner is going to save you, you’re going to be ok kid. You’re going to be ok. I promise.”

 “I won’t miss any more briefings or de-briefings ok? I promise.” You told him.

 “I’m going to hold you to that.”

 “You’ve never broken a promise to me, I won’t break any I make to you.” You said quietly.

 He jerked slightly at your statement and there was a flash of guilt in him. He still felt responsible for what had happened that day, for the way you had suffered. And the way you had been forever changed by it, in more ways than one.

 When you had woken up in The Avengers compound he had been asleep in a chair next to your bed, watching over you. He had been the one to explain how you were different now, how you were a super soldier (though you had argued that you weren’t a super soldier if you weren’t a soldier to begin with, you were more like a super bartender). He had wanted to give you a new identity and send you into the world, keeping your new abilities a secret. You had suggested that you had to do right by his blood, thinking you had a legacy to love up to. He had argued with you for days, huffing with disapproval the first time he had caught you in the gym sparring with Natasha. He had crossed his arms and glared when he found Sam instructing you in the shooting range. He held firm even when the rest of his team accepted the inevitable.

 It was when he walked past your room one night and heard your screaming and rushed inside to wake you from the nightmare that he finally realized he didn’t have a say.

 “There are bad people in the world Steve and they’re going to hurt people like I was hurt. You saved me, why can’t I at least try to save them. Let me learn, let me try.” You had begged.

 He realized it was more than just blood you had in common. And he knew without a doubt that you were going to do whatever you felt you needed to do, regardless of what he said. So he took over your training, pushing you to the limit of your abilities every day. He dragged you to therapists appointments and learned how to make hot chocolate the way you liked it for when you had nightmares. You had been through enough together that he knew if you made a promise to him, you would never break it.

 “Alright kid, I believe you. You’re still in trouble for missing this one though. I want your report done by first thing in the morning. We start training at 5am.”

 “5am?! Are you fuc… fine, ok, yip, I’ll do that.” You agreed, mentally calculating how many brownies it would take to bribe Bucky into doing it for you.

 “And you can’t make Bucky do it for you.” He added.

 You glared at him as he smirked smugly and left you seething to yourself in the kitchen.

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

 The next time the camera’s beeped, Loki was waiting.

 “How did you do it?” He demanded as soon as your feet touched the floor.

 “Do what?” You asked innocently.

 He held up the King of Hearts with an almost petulant expression. He’d spent the last few days wracking his brain, trying to work out how had done it. The fact that a mortal could confound him with a simple card trick had sent him through a myriad of feelings. Disbelief, scorn, fury and eventually, begrudging respect.

 “Told ya Mischief, I’ve got a little magic of my own.” You smirked.

 “I could show you real magic if not for this infernal cell. Is it necessary to inhibit my magic inside it? Am I really to be so cut of from my senses?” He demanded haughtily.

 “You realize that it’s a cell on this planet or a cell on Asgard. According to Thor, the almighty Odin isn’t happy with you.” You reminded him.

 “He was never happy with me.” Loki snarled.

 “Yeah, from everything Thor’s told me, I have to ask, what exactly is Odin the god of? Bad parenting?” You scoffed.

 Loki smirked approvingly.

 “I would love to hear you say that to him.” He admitted.

 “You say that like I wouldn’t do it. Take me to Asgard right now and I’ll tear him a new one. Or as much as I can before he smites me.” You offered.

 “I don’t doubt you kitten and it is gratifying to hear.”

 “I might sympathise with you mischief but I’m not excusing your actions.”

 He wasn’t offended, he actually nodded at you as if to agree with your assessment.

 “That is fair. I did try to conquer your realm, I can see why you might take offence.”

 You frowned at how reasonable he sounded.

 “Humans like all vermin will rebel against the superior predator that reminds them how small and insignificant they are.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

 “Well Mr Superior don’t forget that it was the least trained Avenger who captured your ass.” You teased.

 “Not through strength or skill, you tricked me into thinking you were weaker than you were.” He said sullenly.

 “I thought you liked tricks?” You asked.

 “Oh I do kitten. I’ve studied the archaic runes your wizard has covered this cell in. There’s one down here that could be removed. It would allow my magic within this cell but not outside of it.” He said charmingly, practically fluttering his eyelashes at you in a blatant attempt to have you remove it.

 You knelt down to where he was gesturing and studied the runes scratched into the glass. You hadn’t noticed them before.

 “This one?” You asked, pointing to it.

 He narrowed his eyes, suspicious of your easy attitude but nodded. You grinned and pulled a knife from your belt, flipping it in your hand like Bucky had taught you.

 “So if I scratch it out, you’ll be able to use your magic in there?” You checked.

 “I would.” He chuckled. “But we both know you won’t do it, so lets drop the charade.”

 “What makes you so sure I won’t?” You pressed.

 “You’re too smart to trust me kitten.”

 “So you think I’m smart?” You asked with a grin.

 “For a mortal.” He amended.

 “Nope, you complimented me, you can’t take it back.” You said happily.

 “Even mouldy bread can start to look appetizing to a starving man.” He snarked.

 “You’re supposed to be silver tongued, not sharp tongued.” You huffed.

 “You’ll find my tongue is capable of many different things.” He said slyly.

 “When?” You asked.

 “Pardon?”

 “You said I’ll find your tongue is capable of many different things… When will I find this out?” You elaborated.

 “When you remove that pesky rune.” He suggested.

 “Surely you can make me a better offer than that Mischief.” You said.

 “Are you suggesting a deal kitten?”

 “Seems that way.” You confirmed.

 He tilted his head as he mulled it over and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. Your offer was genuine and he could see it.

 “Remove the rune and I will give you a gift, something you will be the first mortal to enjoy. Something from Asgard.” He offered.

 It seemed like a harmless deal and a fair one. You dragged the tip of the blade across the rune, scratching a line through it and negating it. Loki seemed to stand straighter when you did, he automatically became more imposing.

 “I am still contained, I can neither move myself or anything beyond my confinement. But I can summon things here.” He said as he moved to the tray slot.

 There was a flash of green in his hand and he pushed something through the slot towards you. You automatically caught it before it hit the ground and you marvelled at it. It was a fruit of some kind, like a small apple that fit neatly in the palm of your hand but it was a dark purple, almost black.

 “It is an Elfhett, they grow on the low hanging branches of the trees that are deepest in the forest of Asgard.” He explained.

 “And how poisonous are they?” You asked wryly.

 “You are my only company kitten, it would serve me no purpose to kill you while you may still be of use to me.” He assured, though it was hardly assuring.

 “Eat the apple Eve, said the serpent.” You muttered.

 You used your knife to cut a slice out of the fruit, making a noise of happy surprise when you saw the inside was a dark blue, rippled with shining black specs. Spearing the piece on the end of the blade you slowly brought it to your lips. Loki watched you expectantly as it passed your lips.

 It tasted like nothing you’d ever tasted and somehow you could taste that it wasn’t of this world. It melted on your tongue like chocolate, not apple like in the slightest. He looked smug at your clear enjoyance of it.

 “And now that I’ve fulfilled my deal with you kitten, magic may not allow me to escape this cell but it will allow me to summon something that can.” He crowed victoriously.

 There was a telling flash of green light and then Loki was holding the glowing blue cube you’d only ever seen in photo’s and videos. The tesseract.

 Before Loki could use the infinity stone to make his escape an alarm blared and the glass separating you both shattered as a current of electricity was shot through it from the metal grating it was built into and the knife in your hand was whizzing through the air, sinking into his hand. The hand that was holding the tesseract. He looked briefly amused and maybe even impressed.

 The doors crashed open and Thor stormed in, Mjolnir at the ready.

 “Loki! Hand over the tesseract!” The golden haired god of thunder demanded in a voice that was reminiscent of his title.

 “No brother, I don’t think I will.” Loki said calmly.

 You and Thor shared a brief look of panic. When you’d come up with this idea, this had not been a part of your plan.

 After loki had been cuffed by you and led away, the team boarded the quinjet and set a course for the facilty they were putting Loki.

 “Loki took the tesseract from the vaults of Asgard when he was impersonating my father and used to escape when his ruse was discovered.” Thor said.

 “We searched him and he definitely doesn’t have the tesseract anymore.” Natasha stated.

 “So he’s hidden it somewhere? It could be anywhere in the whole universe.” Tony sighed.

 You tuned out the rest of the conversation as your mind spun with the possibilities, formulating a plan. As the team disembarked the quinjet you ran up behind Thor.

 “I think we can get the tesseract back from Loki, but there’s a catch.” You whispered.

 Thor frowned at you, looking around before grasping your elbow gently and tugging you aside.

 “What is you plan and this catch you speak of?” He asked.

 “Well first up, Steve will never agree to this, he’ll hate it so the catch is we are on our own here. But you know Loki better than anybody and it was Asgard he stole the tesseract from. So what do you say?” You asked with a smirk, offering Thor your hand.

 He looked torn, not wanting to deceive Steve or the team but needing to recover the tesseract before it fell back into Loki’s hands, or the hands of someone worse.

 “I’m listening.” He finally said.

 You’d embedded a knife in Loki’s hand and he hadn’t even flinched, let alone dropped the tesseract like you’d been banking on. Thor twirled Mjolnir but Loki quickly stood behind you, wrapping his free arm around your throat.

 “You want a rematch Mischief?” You hissed.

 “Don’t think of this as me using you as a human shield, think of it more as me not wasting an opportunity to be pressed against you.” He whispered in your ear.

 “Loki release her!” Thor boomed.

 You were waiting for the right moment to fight back, not wanting Loki to use the tesseract to slip away. If he did that you would have a hell of a time trying to explain this to Steve. Your heart panged painfully at the disappointed look he would give you if you fucked this up. He’d done so much for you, you wanted, no you needed to make him proud. You needed to show him he hadn’t made a mistake by taking you in.

 You leaned back against Loki, pressing your back to his chest.

 “I’m perfectly fine where I am.” You said, winking at Thor to reassure him.

 “I will release her unharmed, you have my word brother.” Loki said solemnly.

 Your arm shot up, with the intention of knocking the tesseract away from Loki.

 “I just won’t be releasing her on this planet.” Loki hissed.

 “LOKI NO!”

 You saw Thor dive towards you and then all you could see was blue light everywhere as Loki’s grip tightened on you.

A/N - If you want please tell me what you thought of this chapter? What did you like? What didn’t you like? What do you want to see in the future? What do you think will happen? 

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[grimcorvis]

Sins Locked Away- The Wedding

Part 2 of 3 ( Part 1 here) 

Party Crasher

The crowd let out several murmurs amongst themselves and turned their heads to see who had spoken out. Grim raised a brow and looked towards the back, keeping his hold on his fiance’s hands. Who on Earth would object to them being married? "Is that...?” 

Abaddon gasped, sensing an aura that sent a shiver down his spine. He called out to the man in question, trying to act calm through his fear. “If I remember correctly, we made sure not to invite you. Leave now or you will be escorted out.”

“Escort me out? I don’t think you’ll do such a thing, my boy.” The voice in the back laughed smugly and stepped out into the aisle. It was an all too familiar man; his eyes ablaze with anger and annoyance, a tight smile on his face. It was the Wizard. Grim growled lowly and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t test us. We know you’re not who you say you are, and we will escort you out by force. Leave.”

Abaddon could only stand there in fear, sensing the man’s aura that radiated so much power. There was only one being he knew of with that much anger and hatred inside them. Abaddon was surprised it took him this long to realize just who he was dealing with. “You’re not welcome here, Satan. Go back to your own circle of Hell before anyone gets hurt.”

There were murmurs and gasps from the humans, demons, and angels around them. The Wizard's tight-lipped smile turned into a sinister smirk. "You finally figured it out? It certainly took you long enough, Abaddon...or should I say, Jeffrey Payne~" He waved a hand over his body as his outfit and appearance changed in front of everyone. 'The Wizard' now wore a long black and elaborate trench coat, tall heeled boots, and a purple and black top hat. Blonde hair wrapped in a braid that rivaled Grim's own, and his eyes were now black and red. 

Grim instinctively stood in front of his bride, scowling. "Dear, stay close to me. We don't know what he could be planning." His hand had a death grip on Abaddon's as Satan began to stroll down the aisle towards them.

Abaddon nodded to Grim, steadying himself for whatever was about to happen. Thousands of possibilities raced across his mind as he stared the devil himself down. ‘Should I tell everyone to evacuate? Is there going to be a fight? Are we even strong enough to fight?’

Reaper was smart enough to read Abaddon's thoughts and shared them with Abigail. "Jeffrey, honey, you worry about you. Your friends and I will get everyone out." She whispered to him as Satan made his way closer and closer. "You two really know how to piss me off. No soul corruptions? No spirits sent to Hell? And I find out you're goofing off up here in a play and having this wedding. And you don't even invite your own boss! Honestly, I'm so wounded." Satan placed a hand on his chest and sarcastically sighed. "Now why do that to little old me?"

“Maybe because we hate you and everything you stand for?” The words fell out of Abaddon’s mouth before he could even think of the repercussions for saying them. “I’ve spent 450 years doing whatever you told me to do, and I hated every second of it. You can’t control me any longer.”

"And me. Both of us are done being your puppets." Grim nodded in agreement, looking back at Abaddon with a small smile. Satan paused in his tracks and was silent for a minute, then burst out laughing. "How pathetic is that! You really don't know, do you? I have total control over you!" He reached into his coat and pulled out a worn and old contract. It unfurled and Satan flashed his sharp teeth. "I believe you'll recognize the signature at the bottom."

Abaddon squinted at the parchment, trying to decipher the signature at the bottom. A wave of cold washed over him as he realized who’s name was signed on the line. “That’s… no, it can’t be…” 

"That's right: Joseph Payne!" Satan cackled and tossed the contract to them. "Your religious father begged me for help since the Almighty didn't help him. Shows how good of a god She is, doesn't it? I wonder what it was he begged me for, why don't you take a look at what your dear old dad did~" He pointed at the signature and the last paragraph before it. Joseph was pale-faced and looked away out of shame. "Son...I am so sorry…"

Abaddon shook as the contract was tossed to him, landing on the floor in front of him. He looked to his father with rage and disappointment. “What did you do?!” 

Joseph heaved a sad sigh and his eyes glanced at the contract. "...I asked for you. For a son. I was terrified that I would get a daughter, you remember that they were treated so poorly back then. I tried to pray to God...but I got nothing. I prayed and prayed for hours, days even...still nothing. With desperation, I turned to him." He looked up at Satan with a frown. "He gave me what I asked for. In return- you would be his when you died…forgive me, Jeffrey."

Abaddon was stunned to silence, trying to process everything that was said. “...All this time… I thought what I did caused me to become… this. Turns out, like most of my problems growing up, you were the cause of it.”

Grim placed his hand on Abaddon's shoulder. "Abby...we can deal with this later. Right now, another asshole requires our attention. Let's focus on getting him out of here and getting everyone to safety." Satan chuckled darkly at the display in front of him. "Oh boo hoo~ Such hurt and betrayal. Come now, come back home with me, my son. It's time for you to really learn how to be a princely demon."

“I am not your son! I’m not your anything, not anymore. You don’t own me.” Abaddon stared down the man that had caused him so much anguish for centuries. “I don’t care how much power you think you have, because you have none against me.”

“You should care, Abaddon.” Satan sneered and brought a hand behind his back. “While I have power, I know that you hardly have any left. If I have to kill you to bring back the demon in you, I will.” He pulled out a horrid scythe from behind him, its blade pulsing with one of the most powerful demonic auras ever felt. It was jagged and purple, adorned with a skull frozen in mid-scream. The humans shrieked and started to flee in random directions at the sight of it.

“Not if I have any say in this. You won’t lay a finger on my bride!” Grim glared at his boss and turned to the podium where a golden cross hung. He pried it off and revealed it to be the holy spear he had ordered from Heaven, the blue spearhead glowing brightly. “Abaddon, stay close to Alistair and Raphael. Have the others help the humans out of here.” He ordered, stepping forward in a defensive stance. “I promised I would keep you safe, and I meant it!”

Abaddon hesitated for just a moment, not wanting to leave Grim to fight by himself. “Alright, just… be careful.” He stood back, the angels standing in front to protect him. He hated not being able to help, but he knew just how dangerous getting in the line of fire for that weapon could be. 

“Playing the hero, are we Reaper? That’s gutsy. I’ve always wanted to know what would happen if I killed you, looks like we get to find out today!” Satan charged forward and raised his scythe at Grim. It was blocked by the spear, the holy and hellish auras crackling and sparking as they met with each clash. Koban and the other demons tried to help the humans out of the garden, while Alistair, Raphael, Reaper, and Abigail stuck close to Abaddon. Reaper whimpered at Abaddon’s feet, scared out of his puppy wits. “Papa, I’m scared! What’s gonna happen to Daddy and the bad man if this keeps going? Is he gonna come for us?”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that…” Abaddon was just as scared as Reaper was, the only difference was that he had to hide it for the sake of everyone around him. 

Spear and scythe continued to strike against each other, the skies overhead growing dark as their fight continued. The Lord of Hell was starting to struggle at this point, but he had just begun his real fight. “You honestly think you can save your ‘bride’, Reaper?” Grim let out a laugh and smirked with determination. “Of course I will, we love each other and I know he would do the same for me.” The Devil narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure? Perhaps he was under my command this whole time, I own him after all. Would he do this for you? Or maybe…” “Maybe...what?” “Maybe he was using you, trying to reach the one thing he lost long ago. He was using you to get to Robin, his first love~ Didn’t you try to get it for him, didn’t the thought of getting Robin back make him happier?”

Grim drank in Satan’s words, repeating them in his head. No- no that wasn’t true- was it? He remembered their conversation they had long ago when Abaddon was recovering his memories. He recalled the kiss he was given when Abaddon was told that Grim would go get Robin’s soul. He did want to see Abaddon happy, and Abaddon seemed overjoyed at that. Did...did he really still want Robin? After all the things they went through together? He paused and shook his head to clear the doubt and lies Satan wove with his words, and that gave Satan his window of opportunity. With a swift swing, the spear was knocked from Grim’s grasp and the blade pierced through his skin. A deep gash opened on Grim’s body, sending blood into the air like rose petals. Thunder could be heard above them as Grim was struck, a flash of lightning streaking across the sky. 

There was only silence after the sound of thunder, the world too shocked by what had just occurred. Satan’s laughter was the first thing to break the silence, followed by Abaddon’s blood-curdling scream. “NNNNOOOOOOOOOO!” He fell to his knees, sobbing as his beloved fell to the cold ground, a pool of crimson around his limp body.

The angels, remaining humans, and the demons all stared in horrid shock as Grim now laid on his back in his own blood, lying limp. His chest still rose up and down, he was breathing but for how much longer? Satan laughed, his scythe blade dripping with Grim’s red blood. The spear rolled in the grass, stopping near the podium. “You were always so quick to listen to my lies, Reaper. Now, look where it got you. All I need to do now is put you out of your misery and reclaim what is mine.”

Abaddon’s sorrow quickly turned to rage. He growled at Satan as his skin darkened, wings ripping holes in the back of his dress. Soon, Apollyon had taken over. “YOU BASTARD! I’M GONNA RIP YOU TO SHREDS!” He picked up the holy spear, smoke burning from where the weapon met his demonic skin.

Satan glanced up from the dying body of Grim and couldn’t help but snicker. “Are you sure? You can barely hold onto the spear, let alone contain your beastly demon side. What will you do if you hurt your family and friends? One false move and you could finish off your precious love before I get to~ Now be a good prince and let me end this.”

‘Prince?’ Something about those words struck something deep within him. Abaddon’s true voice came through Apollyon’s form. “The contract… You made my mother pregnant with me… which, ew by the way, but that means… I’m technically your son. I’m a prince of Hell.” As soon as those words left his lips, Abaddon was engulfed in blue fire. When Abaddon emerged, he was dressed in ancient clothing and armor, nine horns adorning his head. His eyes turned blue, as did everything else that was once red. “I am Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, the demon of lust, and the true ruler of the nine circles.” The holy spear had changed form to a demonic sword glowing with blue flames. “Looks like you're my bitch today~ I wonder, should I decapitate you, or castrate you first?”

Everyone now stared at what was once Abaddon, now Asmodeus. This was possible? Even Satan seemed a bit surprised at this. The angels and the others backed up and gave him space, knowing this was going to be a big fight between father and son. The Devil frowned, raising his weapon at the prince. The blood was still fresh and dripping from the blade of the scythe. “True Ruler? I’m warning you, boy. Back down and let me finish the Reaper, and I might let you off with an easy punishment when we return to Hell. You may be my son, but I can still kill you too.” Thunder rumbled again, louder this time as his red eyes burned at Asmodeus’ blue ones.

“Oh please, you kill me? I’d like to see you try.” Asmodeus readied himself for a fight, brandishing his sword. “Bring it on, Lucifer.”

“I plan to, Asmodeus!” Satan hissed and charged at his son, eyes blazing and teeth bared. He swung his scythe as he got close, causing Abigail, Reaper, and the angels to run out of the way. While Satan was away from Grim, Raphael rushed over to his dying body to try and see what he could do to heal him. “Get him, Papa! Kick his a- butt! Avenge Daddy!” “Go, Jeffrey! You can do it, sweetie!” Abigail and Reaper cheered him on from the side, giving the prince moral support.

Asmodeus yawned as their weapons met, easily parrying Satan’s attack. “Boooooring. Can’t you at least try to kill me? It’s no fun if it’s this easy.” He hurled a ball of blue fire at Satan, much more powerful than his usual abilities. 

Satan gasped and dodged the blue fire as it landed in the grass a few feet from where Grim and Raphael were. “Eep! Careful!” Raphael warned as he was trying not to panic. Clearly, healing wasn’t going well and the battle wasn’t helping. The Lord of Hell growled and launched his own fire at Asmodeus, continuing to fight back with his bloody scythe. “I’ll add your blood to your love’s! Perhaps I can beat you close to death and you can watch as I kill everyone here!”

Asmodeus dodged the fire as it hit the podium behind him. “Now this is getting interesting~” He lunged at Satan, taking the fight more seriously this time. 

Thunder clapped again with another flash of lightning, rain beginning to fall from the sky as their battle waged on in the Garden. Abigail and Reaper continued to cheer on Asmodeus while Alistair and the other demons finished getting the humans out of harm’s way. Satan realized he would have to start playing dirty again. “Are you proud of this now? Fighting your own father, your world crumbling around you, and your lover dying? It’s your fault you know~ If you never slacked off or met him, none of this would have happened. You caused Grim to get hurt, you’re the one who is letting him die~”

Asmodeus was unphased by his words, being the combination of Abaddon and Apollyon made him a surprisingly rational thinker. “Exactly, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for Grim. I’d still be working for you, doing a job Abaddon hates and Apollyon only tolerates for little to no pay. Instead, Abaddon is finally happy after centuries of your abuse. I can feel each scar that was caused by you. Now, you’re going to feel the same.”

Well, Satan didn’t expect this from Asmodeus. His little mind tricks usually worked on everyone, even demons. Now to have Asmodeus easily not play into his words caused him slight shock..and building anger. “Hate to break it to you, but I shall walk away without a scratch. You will have more than a few puny scars when I’m done with you. I’ll tear your tail off and let the dogs eat you alive!”

“Dogs, huh? Not a bad idea.” Asmodeus turned to look at the crowd of Abaddon’s loved ones. “Reaper, come to me.”

Reaper’s eyes flashed yellow and he nodded, taking off the pillow saddle and running over to Asmodeus. As he ran, his puppy body started to get larger and his horns grew on his head. His fur rippled as his fat turned to muscle, his teeth becoming sharper and his eyes glowing bright yellow. In a matter of seconds, standing beside the demon, was a full-grown Reaper the Hellhound. The giant wolf-dog growled at Satan, saliva dripping from his jaws. “I’m ready to fight by your side, Papa.”

“Good boy.” Asmodeus turned to Satan, a smirk on his face. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“Grr, this will change nothing! This is just another creature I need to get rid of to end you!” Satan growled, seemed like his son didn’t even want to go with him by force. “Let’s finish this, you’ll have quite the punishment waiting for you in the deepest circle of Hell!” His scythe started to glow and purple flames lined the blade, light flickering against the crimson blood still there. “Now, show me what a ‘Prince of the Nine Circles’ can actually do.”

“With pleasure~” Asmodeus took a fighting stance once again, preparing to strike. “Reaper, sick ‘em.” 

“Yes, Papa!” Reaper charged at Satan and bared his teeth, latching on to the arm that held the scythe. His teeth dug into Satan’s flesh, causing his own blood to trickle down the wound. “AGH! Get off of me, you stupid flea-ridden runt!” He shouted, dropping his scythe and smacking Reaper in his face to get him off.

Asmodeus saw his opportunity, striking Satan straight through his heart (if he even had one). Black blood pooled around his sword, adding fuel to the blue flames that engulfed it. “Too easy. Better luck next time, Satan.”

“GAH-” Satan only had time to gasp as the holy blade impaled him, and he looked down at his own chest as his blood dripped down his coat. Reaper let go of his arm and Satan looked at Asmodeus. “Heh..kind of funny, isn’t it? One life for another… I couldn’t be more proud of the bastard you are.” As he spoke, his physical form started to fade away in the wind like ash. “Good luck, Prince Asmodeus. If you defeated me, then you’ll make a damn good ruler of Hell.”

“I’ll see you in the 9th circle… father.” Asmodeus removed his sword from Satan’s body, causing the rest of his form to turn to ash. He fell to the ground, exhausted as he returned to Abaddon’s form which was now bruised, bloody, and burnt. 

[ayma-nidiot]

“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 27

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 27 - I Challenge My Fate

~07 November 2005~ 

“President Phuckdis! Reporting in, sir!” A Buster Blader saluted his general. 

“Proceed, Captain.”

“Several enemies calling themselves ‘Earthbound Gods’ started attacking Joey and his friends. Apparently, Joey lost a duel, and last I checked, he was engaged in battle with a snake-like monster. There are now hundreds of enemy soldiers coming this way! It’s only a matter of time before-”

“Th-They’re here!” shouted a few guards who stood watch at the door. “Aaaaaaargh!”

“Hah!” Watda led the charge, showing no mercy in cutting down the guards. He aggressively attacked Joey and showed little interest in anything else. “How kind of you to show me where you lowlifes camp out! Now, give me Uru or else!”

“Never!” Joey swiped at Watda’s feet with his Salamandra sword, “summoned” from his Duel Disk.

“Oh?” Watda smirked as he jumped over the sword like a jump rope. “Why would you want to protect that ‘dung beetle…’ or whatever it is you called him?”

“Hahaha…” cackled a voice from behind Joey. “I wonder that, too. Well, no matter, since that will be your first and last mistake!”

“Weevil!” William growled at the half-shifted Weevil. “Dammit, he escaped!”

“What do you mean, ‘escaped?’” Joey wanted to know.

“William, you moron!” Phuckdis bopped his brother with the blunt end of his sword.

“Hey, Joey!” Weevil’s arms hardened, glowing blood-red. “Think fast!”

“Wh-What?” Joey darted around for the agile bug duelist. Before he could really process what was going on, Weevil found him first, stabbing his non-sword arm with a sharp spider arm. “Aaaah! You… You mosquito…”

“A mosquito, am I?” Weevil continued to assault Joey, who had to parry the attacks with a shaky arm. “Hah! A mosquito is but a caterpillar compared to the monster I’ve become, compliments of my fellow Earthbound Gods!” 

“You’ve gone absolutely batshit, Weevil! Open your eyes, why don’t you!”

“Nah, how about no.” Weevil stabbed Joey’s sword hand so hard that the Salamandra sword went flying. “But I’ll gladly open a giant wound in your belly and let the maggots have at you. I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve done in the past…”

“G-Ggh…” Joey looked up at his former Battle City rival, knowing his life was as good as done.

“The only one who will be suffering here is you, Weevil! Amazoness Empress, get ‘im!” exclaimed a debilitated Mai. 

“Ah…” All of the excitement of battle left Weevil in an instant, and he knelt to the ground in pain. 

“Bind Weevil at once!” Phuckdis ordered. “And be quick about it!”

“Yes, sir!” Several Magician Girl monsters got to work right away.

“Mai…” Joey got up, hoping to help the woman he loved - that was until Watda got in his path. 

“Going somewhere, Wheeler?” Watda slashed down a few Club members who got between him and Joey. “Not that it would do you any good, since your pretty little girlfriend is history!”

“Get off her, you thug!” Seeing Watda’s snake arms slither around Mai’s face pissed the hell out of Joey.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I want to hear her scream in agony after I take your life away!”

“Ggh…!” Joey tried to pick up the Salamandra. “Rex… Where the hell are… you…”

“Dammit, get out of our way!” Though the enemies Amber fought on the way to the Club meeting room were weak, their numbers were enough to overwhelm her.

“Need some help?” Rex asked before transforming himself, felling most of the enemies and weakening the rest.

“Papa! You shouldn’t be-” Amber would have scolded her mother if she hadn’t noticed what Rex’s transformation had done.

“Hehe!” Rex remained in rabbit form as he ran with Amber. “I might not be a strong monster, but I’ve got one heck of a special ability. Surprised?”

“Yeah, at the fact that your baby bump is still intact when you switch forms. Shapeshifter physiology is a weird thing, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be for a girl genius like you.” 

“Papa… I know the circumstances are grave, but I don’t want you to push yourself. Let your strong daughter do the fighting.”

Rex’s endurance barely held on long enough to reach the Tabletop Gaming Club’s meeting room. As soon as he turned back into a human, his ankles swelled badly, and held onto Amber as a crutch.

“I got you, Papa. Oh?” No sooner had Rex reverted forms when Amber saw a fight going on well inside their meeting room, in the health/recreation center.

Unlike Amber, Rex recognized Watda instantly - as well as the captive he held by the neck. “That’s the guy who captured me! And he’s got Joey! Ugh!” Rex strained to transform.

“Papa, are you nuts? That man is the Crimson Devil, the strongest of the Earthbound Gods! Even I’m not match for him! H-Hey, get back here!” Amber couldn’t stop her mother from running to Watda in human form.

“Hehehe…” Watda cackled as he raised Joey above the gathering crowd - most of whom were weak monsters that didn’t dare to raise a hand against Watda. “My Earthbound Gods have lost to your friends… It’s too bad that you really lucked out and ended up dueling me ! Although I have to commend your bravery, Mr. Wheeler. It’s too bad you’re not as smart or strong as you are reckless.”

“Joey!” As much as Mai wanted to rescue the man she loved, enemies restrained her. “No! Take me instead, please!”

“D-Damn… you… Watda…” Having lost against Watda himself, Phuckdis barely had the strength to crawl on the floor, let alone fight back.

“Y-You’ll never… have… Urk!” Joey howled in pain as Watda’s nails dug into his neck, drawing blood.

“You’re trying to protect the man who tried to steal your soul, and the one whom you call a ‘duelin’ disgrace?’ Hah!” Watda used his free hand to grab Joey’s head, with the intent to twist it off. “I’ll show you the consequences of being a nice guy, you bleeding-heart filth! You don’t even deserve the honour of final words!”

“And I’ll show you the consequences of messing with my friends!” Rex thundered as he quickly shifted and latched onto one of Watda’s arms.

“Wh-What? Yeowch!” Thanks to Rex’s special effect, Watda could feel his strength draining. “You damned rabbit! How did you escape?”

“Not gonna tell you! But you best think how you’re going to escape!”

“What do you- Argh!” Before Watda could even turn around, an arrow from Amber pierced his shoulder.

“You’re… gonna pay!” Amber continued to shoot a flurry of arrows, chasing Watda out of the building. “Wait! ...Dammit, he got away! Let me-”

From an all-fours position, Rex grabbed one of Amber’s ankles. “Amber, not now… Just look around you.”

“Papa…” Amber noticed that in this battle, many Club members have already died, the vast majority of them killed by Watda.

“At least we know who are enemies are now.”

“...Fine.” Amber turned back into a human and glanced at Joey. “Just so you know, I still hate you. I didn’t do what I did because I consider you a friend.”

“Hehe, I know you do. You just won’t admit it!” Joey’s tone turned serious when he looked down at Rex. “That was a bold thing you did, man. Not only are you super pregnant, but you got beat to a pulp for gods know how long. I’m… I’m sorry for all that I said about you in the past. I take it all back.”

“It’s cool, dude…” Rex decided he couldn’t move anymore, and leaned against a giant wooden table for rest.

“Ugh.” Amber instead turned her attention to her incapacitated allies, Phuckdis and William. “Guys, are you okay?”

“Barely…” Phuckdis managed to stand on his feet, and helped his brother stand up too. “More importantly, Lady Amber… We’ve finally done it. We can now complete our mission.”

“Oh?” Amber looked to the smaller crowd, gathered around… something.

“‘Lady’ Amber? Come to think of it, I think I’ve heard her called that before…” Rex couldn’t see what was going on, even though he wasn’t very far.

“...Stay where you are, Rex.” Amber didn’t allow Rex to move one more inch forward.

“Amber?” Rex’s heart broke a little when Amber called him by his name. “Let me see what’s the ruckus over there!”

“Oh, I will.” Amber gestured for her soldiers to move out of the way, and when they dispersed, Rex could see Weevil - bound at the ankles, weak, and completely void of emotion.

“Weevil! You’re okay…” Rex attempted to crawl over to where Weevil was, but the ankle pain held him back.

“Rex… I don’t think you realize what kind of enemies we’re up against.”

“I’ve learned enough when I was captured. They want Weevil to join them because he’s an almighty god. And who wouldn’t?”

“They don’t want him for just any reason… He’s an Earthbound God, destined to cause ruin.”

Rex remembered what Dip told him, but tried to deny it. “Th-That’s not true! I thought you knew better than anyone that he can use his powers for good!”

“For now, yes… But in time… In time…” Amber walked towards Weevil and stared him down. “Their minds will become so corrupt that they have no choice but to fulfill their destiny. And when they’re with their own kind, they’ll cause unspeakable destruction.”

“Amber, that’s nonsense!”

Amber’s body and voice shook. “After seeing this destruction myself, I can hardly call it nonsense! The Earthbound Gods are what ruined my future! It was them… They were the ones who…”

“You’re not serious…?” Rex hugged himself to stop trembling.

“I saw it with my own eyes! Weevil was the one who killed my baby brother… My boyfriend…” Amber looked at the members of the “Dweeb Patrol,” who were even more confused than Rex. “All of you… And… you, Rex. Weevil killed you right in front of me.”

“Oh… my gods…” Rex wanted to throw up just from hearing this awful story.

“This… has been my mission… all along…” Amber half-shifted and pointed her arrow at Weevil, who looked up at her without a gleam in his eyes.

“Amber!” Rex couldn’t stop crying. “Do you mean to tell me you were duping me this whole time? That all along, your only real goal was to kill Weevil?”

“That’s right.  This overgrown spider is the only thing standing between our future and complete freedom!”

“Amber…” Rex cried. “I… I can’t believe what I’m hearing… No, I won’t believe it!”

“And now… I challenge my fate!” Amber’s arrow glowed brightly.

“Do it, Lady Amber.” Phuckdis ordered. “Your mother is already pregnant with your present self, so you can still live. And Francis… He never deserved to live in such a terrible future. Do this, and his soul will be appeased.”

“Haha…” Amber’s eyes hardened on Weevil. “I’m going to free everyone… I’m going to save the world! All I have to do is kill one bloody Earthbound God! And I’m going to do it in front of your very eyes, Rex!”

“Amber… Argh!” No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Phuckdis and William pulled his legs, Rex crawled forward. 

“Don’t you dare interfere in our mission, Rex!” Phuckdis threatened to stab Rex’s legs with his sword. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant! I won’t hesitate to hurt you!”

“Amber… I know you don’t want to do this. The bonds your father and I have forged with you over the past few months are real. They’re not something you want to end with a stupid, puny arrow. Even though you’re barely younger than us, Weevil and I really love you as our daughter. Isn’t there any room in your heart for the father who raised you? The father who taught you everything there is to know about insects and dueling? The father would would take all the pain and suffering in the world just to make you happy?”

“Shut… up…” Amber started to tear up.

“Amber… I want us to live and bond as a family. There’s got to be another way. Let’s put all this behind us and go on another mall trip, or walk in the park. But whatever you do… please, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, Rex! You’re just making it harder!” Amber’s aim at Weevil’s heart began to waver. 

“But you can save him! We’ve done it before!”

“No. Look at him! He’s too far gone now... He doesn’t even remember who the fuck you are, Rex! This is the only way I can save the world - and Weevil’s soul. I… I don’t want to see this man suffer in the soulless shell that was once Weevil Underwood. I’d… rather… Sniff…”

“Rex… Weevil…” Even the normally-proud Joey, the Joey that once despised Rex and Weevil with everything he had, couldn’t help but shed tears of his own.

“Weevil…” Amber choked on her own breath, and she pulled her bowstring as far back as she could. “Sorry, not sorry.”

So were Amber’s final words as she tearfully let her arrow fly at Weevil full speed.

[tiny-maus-boots]

If you can, I’d love a one shot about the redhead and her Cowgirl. Fluffy, smutty, doesn’t matter. Love those two! 🖤

Hope you like it, sorry I didn’t edit it. Of course it’s after 3 am and I haven’t slept in days so please ignore the wonky. 

Garters and Gunslingers - Bechloe

“Oh son of a turkey…” The shot went wide over her head but pinned down the way she was it was still too close for comfort. Beca tempted fate and peeked around the barrel, pulling back only just in time as another bullet came her way. “Sorry I called your mother a sow!” Another shot and she winced when it went right through the barrel just over her left shoulder. “Okay I’m NOT sorry I called her a sow you stupid cow fucking son of a bitch!” Beca shot off a few of her own rounds from around the barrel.

There were another couple of shots and then it got quiet. Beca looked for a way out of her current situation but she was well and truly stuck. There was no cover she could get to without taking a huge risk of being shot. It was her own fault really. She had gotten drunk before the sun had even risen, saddled her horse and rode to the furthest corner of the territory that she could get to before…

But she hadn’t gotten far. Not nearly far enough away before her horse went lame. She’d walked the rest of the way to a town she didn’t even know the name of and decided she was too thirsty to leave. And that’s where all her troubles started. Well. Not all. She wasn’t too drunk to realize she was running as fast as she could away from laughing blue eyes and a smile that had always made her weak. Beca tipped up the bottle she had forgotten she was holding in her free hand.

The whiskey slid down her throat in hot wash that normally made her cough and sputter but now just felt like a welcome pain. Beca rested the bottle on the ground and spun the cylinder on her revolver. There was one bullet left, and by her standards only one chance to try and get out of this. Beca raised the bottle again but a bullet shattered it in her hand. She looked at it mournfully then tossed the broken neck aside. “Well damn.”

“C’mon out you coward!”

“Hey! I am not a coward. Jesse…now he’s a coward. Can you believe that horse’s ass left me to die?? After all we had been through?”

There was silence for a moment and then a chuckle. “Shame. You seem like a real peach!” More masculine laughter rang out and Beca rolled her eyes. Ha fucking ha. “You’re outgunned three to one, so you might as well give it up.”

Another shot but she suspected it was only meant to punctuate the statement that she had run out of time. She bumped her head back against the wooden side of the barrel and took a deep breath. Beca closed her eyes against the bitter image of Cutter Beaufort on bended knee in front of Chloe, asking her so earnestly to be his wife. She was always running out of time. The days after he’d proposed had been a blur and she had thought she’d have more time….

But there had never been enough time for her to work through it. To learn to trust the way she had trusted Jesse with her heart. And now there wasn’t enough time for her to survive let alone speak all her close held secrets to the only person that ever really mattered. Beca gave the cylinder another spin to let the single round fall where it may. It didn’t really matter, her heart wasn’t in the fight, not anymore.

Beca rose up from behind her cover, screaming as she pulled the trigger. Her aim was oddly perfect and the first target in her sights went down hard. It was just muscle memory that made her swing her arm to the right to sight down her next target and pull the trigger. Her eyes widened in surprise when a man she wasn’t even aiming at fell to the ground dead. She looked at the gun in her hand and shook it as if that would somehow explain what had just happened. She had been momentarily distracted and the last man took aim and fired, the shot ricocheted off the ground at her feet and she danced back in fear. “Jesus Christ!”

A gunshot echoed out and the last man fell without her ever pulling the trigger. She blinked blearily at the gun in her hand then let it drop to the ground. It went off with a loud bang and she jumped. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.” Beca whirled to face the low drawling voice and sighed.

“Oh hell…”

It was a second before Aubrey’s heavy hand slapped the crap out of her. Beca stumbled back and fell to the ground under the stinging blow. She raised a shaking hand to her cheek as Aubrey stared down at her with cold green eyed fury. “That was for making me leave my best friend on her wedding day. Now get up.”

“Are you going to hit me again?”

“GET. UP.”

Beca scrambled up but took a cautious step back to keep out Aubrey’s reach. “Ow.” Aubrey gave her a sharp look and she realized that she was toeing a very thin line. Beca worked her jaw, the sting in face made her wince but she didn’t dare complain again. “What are you doing here, Bree?”

“That is the very question I am asking myself right now.” Aubrey glanced around at the people starting to peer out of windows and doorways now that the commotion was largely over and sighed. “We need to go. Before this becomes a bigger problem than you running your mouth faster than you can pull a gun. Again.”

She hated it when Aubrey was right but Beca nodded and followed along because she didn’t think she had any other choice. The blonde whistled shrilly for Rowdy and mounted him easily when he trotted up to them. The blonde looked down at her expectantly and Beca kicked a small stone with her foot, unable to meet the hard stare.

“I can’t Bree… I can’t see her marry someone else.”

“Then tell her how you feel Beca. Because she’s set to marry Cutter because he’s not afraid to tell her what she means to him.” Beca’s shoulders hunched at that, feeling Bree’s words like a sucker punch to the gut. It was hard to hear the truth of things and she balked at the idea of what Aubrey was suggesting she do.

“Yeah well by the time I get there it’ll be too late. And what if she lea…oh Jesus! Put that away will ya!”

Beca had looked up just as Aubrey had drawn her gun and pulled back the hammer. She had no doubt that the blonde would pull the trigger and shoot her where she stood.  “Gimme a reason, Bec. I swear by the Almighty I will put you out of all our misery right here and right now.” Beca took a deep breath and Aubrey’s eye twitched as if she were itching to do exactly what she said. “I get that you’re afraid. You been hurt bad, hurt in a way that ain’t easy to fix. But if you think for one second that Chloe would betray you…”

“I don’t.” And she didn’t. She knew it in her soul that Chloe would rather take a bullet than hurt her in any way. “What if….what if it’s too late?”

“Ride fast.” Aubrey gave her gun a twirl and slid it back into her holster. She kicked her heels into Rowdy’s flank, launching into a strong gallop. Beca raised her hands and let them drop to her sides.

“My horse is lame!”

“You a thief or not?”

Oh. Right. Beca gave a frustrated huff and ran to the nearest saddled horse tied to a hitch post. Someone came out from the general store but she didn’t dare wait for them to demand their horse back. Beca tightened her legs around the horse’s middle after a swift kick to get the mare going. She leaned forward behind the horse’s head as she struggled to catch up to her friend.

They rode hard for hours, long enough for the sun to make its slow decline toward the horizon and she knew that they were cutting it mighty close. The church loomed up before them, the doors already closed. Beca skidded to a stop and slid off the back of her mount, pushing its shoulder to nudge it out of the way. She almost hesitated but the too casual way Aubrey stroked the handle of her gun led her to believe that it was in her best interest to stay the course.

“Now or never Beca. Choose.”

Beca gave a nod and ran up the three steps to the door. The whitewashed wood was rough under her hands when she pushed in the doors and stumbled into the small church. “Wait!” Everyone turned in their seats to watch her as she panted more from the stress of the situation than exertion.

Cutter sighed heavily from the pulpit and held on to Chloe’s hands tighter. He wasn’t the bad sort and for any other person she’d be thrilled that they’d managed to find a good man that was handsome and rich. But this was Chloe and no one would ever be quite good enough, not even Beca herself.

“Beca Mitchell…of course. I almost thought you’d bow out gracefully.” Cutter’s voice was deep and clear and the disappointment was heavy in his words.

“Well thank God for tiny miracles.” Beca looked over her shoulder at the tall figure leaning against the back wall of the church. Stacie tipped her head up just enough to grace Beca with a smirk as if she had always known Beca would make an appearance. “What happened to your face?”

Beca brought her hand up to touch her tender cheek and realized she must have a hell of a mark. “The hand of God.”

Stacie chuckled and glanced over at Aubrey who had slipped into the church behind Beca. “And what a skilled hand it is.” The look in her eyes was so much more than the salacious words coming out of her mouth. It filled Beca’s heart with warmth and a longing to feel that kind of love without wondering when it was going to be stolen from her.

“You’re sweatin’ like a hoor.”

Stacie broke her gaze from Aubrey and chuckled with a shrug. “Well I am in a church, might catch fire any second now so you best hurry and state your piece.”

Beca nodded and started up the aisle that seemed to be getting longer with each step. Chloe had yet to look at her and she knew that there was a chance that it was already too late. She was to the foot of the pulpit before Chloe raised her head and met her gaze. She looked beautiful and for just a second Beca had forgotten how to breathe. “Chlo…”

“Becs….”

“Cutter.” They both turned to him and he gave a soft unhappy chuckle. “Don’t suppose you’re here to give your blessing.”

“No…no I’m not. I’m sorry Cutter, I am. But I love her. I have always loved her.” There was a quiet sniff from Chloe and Beca swallowed hard. “Even if it’s too late…I have to be honest. I’m not as good with my words as I am with my knives but, I love you Chloe. I think maybe I always have. Even when I was with him…it was you. It’s was always you in my heart. I can’t see nothin’ but you and I know Cutter can give you things I can’t. Money, safety…a family.”

As much as she hated the idea of Cutter and Chloe getting married, she hated what she was doing to him just as much. He didn’t deserve it and the more she spoke the more she realized what she was asking of Chloe.

“The only thing I got is all my love. But my whole heart is yours if you want it. An’ I’m sorry I never said it before, sorry I waited until you were at the altar before I found my words. And I’m sorry to you Cutter because it’s not fair and…if I were in your shoes I’d have shot me the second I ran through the door.”

“The thought may have crossed my mind.” The rows of town folk behind her chuckled in nervous amusement. “Truth of it is, I don’t rightly blame you. Much. Chloe, darlin’, you’re awful quiet. You can put your guns down and live the life of a well-cared for wife. Or…”

It seemed the whole church was holding their breath waiting. Beca risked a glance at Chloe. “Or a life of fighting, but I swear it’ll never be boring.”

A tear tracked down Chloe’s cheek and she wiped at it absently. “I’m sorry Cutter. You’re everything a girl dreams of but…”

“But?”

“She’s the only one I ever dream about.”

Cutter let out a deeply disappointed sign and kissed her cheek before placing her hand in Beca’s. He held their hands a second and levelled a meaningful look at Beca. “Don’t you break her heart Mitchell, or I will hunt you down and put you in the ground.”

“No sir, I won’t.”

He gave a short nod and gestured to the door. “Well g’wan then. Git. Before I change my mind.”

Beca wasn’t going to give him the chance for that, her grip on Chloe’s hand tightening as she tugged them toward the doors at a good sprint. For once she had been right on time. “Beca…what happened to your face?” Beca laughed as they burst out the doors to her new horse waiting so patiently.

“Let’s just say Aubrey gave me a heavy helping hand.” Chloe gave a musical laugh and Beca’s heart swelled. They had plenty of time now that they were together.

[sparda3g]

Kimetsu no Yaiba Chapter 166 Review

Kokushibou is no joke whatsoever. If his calmness and lack of any expression other than curiosity didn’t tell you that, I don’t know what does. Actually, this latest chapter will certify that claim. It was horrifying enough with Tokito easily overwhelmed; it only gets worse from here, unless that man pulls a miracle. This chapter was damn riveting with yet another horrifying display and surprisingly, a heartwarming scene that instantly changed my mind.

I like that Gotouge sometimes uses the chapter’s cover to illustrate a moment from elsewhere, instead of using multiple pages. It’s not necessary to exploit it with exposition; it can be shown in one image. In this case, we now know Tanjiro is reading the letter about a huge possibility to defeat Muzan. It could be the deal breaker, though we won’t know until he goes for it, let alone learn it. With that out of the way, it’s back to the horror story.

Kokushibou easily impressed me the last time. We’ve never seen his sword yet, so more shock value is on hold. It only makes me even more worried. It’s good for interest level, but bad for me that truly cares about these characters. Even if Tokito doesn’t die, him becoming a demon is bad enough; fate worse than death. The first page was sort of convincing that it was going to happen. The second page helps the nerve, but the tension remains high.

I’m mixed about Genya appearing. I’m happy for he will have a moment to shine and save Tokito, somehow, someway. I’m upset because he’s about to go up against Upper Moon 1 who singlehanded defeat a Pillar. It’s telling when Genya is scared to pull the trigger. One move, one fail, God help them all. That alone got me nervous. But that feeling is nothing compared to the follow-up.

Kokushibou is scary as hell, all thanks to well thought-out sequence. Your nerves were running wild with Tokito about to convert to a demon. Kokushibou explains in an eerie fashion, as Genya takes aim from behind. Then the very next page, Kokushibou appears instantly behind him, asking if he agrees. That’s so unnerving. His dialogue flow perfectly, as if all three were always in the conversation. That’s how you display a serious threat. I haven’t felt this frightened since Arima from Tokyo Ghoul. The hype, the atmosphere, and overall presentation had me convinced.

The last chapter was tough to watch Tokito losing badly. This one however is even worse. I gasped hard when I saw Genya’s arm sliced off, and you can’t even see it happen in motion. He’s a demon, so he should be fine. Still, the way how the scene plays out gives you damn chills. Genya goes for a swing and that arm gets sliced off as well. Again, you can’t see the motion. It’s so instantaneous, his Demon Art might as well be Time-Travel.

Genya should be fine, but good God almighty, Kokushibou wasn’t done. Cutting his arms weren’t enough, so he just cuts him in half. I’m all out of gasp. This is brutal; no, it’s insanity. I don’t know what to believe anymore. You have Genya trying to reach for his arm, which by the way, a nice subtle development compare to the last arc. He is more of a real fighter now, and I respect that. You have Tokito trying to remove the sword, and he’s the only hope to save Genya. “Live or die” is the name of a game. It’s hell of an intensity that leads to a hell of a surprise.

Sanemi comes to save his little demon brother. Now, this is surprising to me because of couple of reasons. One is that Sanemi appears out of nowhere with a badass attack, Rising Dust Storm. Hell, he even has a one-liner moment. Second is how happy I was to see him, and yet, this is the same guy that I detested a lot in the past, especially the time when he was harming Nezuko. Lastly, he never comes to my mind because his impression has been rough, and for writing perspective, that’s a good thing.

I was under impression that Sanemi was a total prick. Even Tanjiro don’t like him. I didn’t think of him as a possible savior, because he looks like a guy who wouldn’t mind his brother getting killed. Fans would be deceived to think him as a cold brother who wants to kill all demons; nothing more, nothing less. It is now that we get to see him in a more shockingly sentimental side, and honestly, I am so shocked that I feel stupid for my dislike for him.

I’m not saying everyone should feel the same, but you should reconsider his character as a whole after he expresses his genuine feelings. It’s worth mentioning that he has been stroke hard with sad and dark reality as of late, which is probably why he’s more collective. When Ubuyashiki died, he was legitimately broken up. It’s like his insane persona is what keeps him alive and motivated, and judging by his words here, it really sounds like it.

The flashback with Tanjiro’s words of wisdom is touching; adds more to the drama that needs to bring them close once again. By the way, Tanjiro sitting on Inosuke’s back is so funny to look at. The point is, despite Sanemi being rowdy and bashful at Genya’s action, nothing has changed. He’ll always love him. Take it from Tanjiro; he knows sibling love all too well. Amazing how these characters can benefit from each other. If his words weren’t convincing enough, Sanemi will settle it.

I was surprised about him caring about Genya, but I’m even more surprised when he speaks in sincere tone. His words are strikingly heartfelt. It’s his deepest regret that his little brother has become a demon. He couldn’t save his family. He couldn’t save their future. That hits me hard. Genya makes the scene warmer with his only reply, “I’m sorry.” I mentioned this in another series that I reviewed, but brotherly love always gets to me, and this is no exception. To sum it up, Sanemi is more or less a tsundere, and that’s fine. I really like the fact you don’t see his face during the tender moment. You don’t know if he’s sad, smiling, or anything. You can only judge by his words and its tone, and that enough makes this scene so heartwarming.

You can damn well tell he’s pissed when you do see his face however. The action has just started and already, it’s promising as hell. The glimpse of the main course is stellar with its solid sequence. The baseball slide from Sanemi is slick, but couldn’t get Kokushibou, even with Dust Whirlwind Cutter. At least it looks awesome. It’s a relief that finally someone is able to force Kokushibou to draw his sword. I thought his design is great, but now I can say the same for his sword. Nasty, but a great complementary to the overall.

This was a great chapter. The tension remains strong and believable. I was cringing badly during Genya’s downfall. Sanemi was a character that I really didn’t like because of his attitude. Now that we got a clearer image, it’s a lot more understandable. You don’t have to forgive him, but I am willing to give him a chance. Plus his brotherly love was heartfelt and sincere. I believe his sorrow, even without seeing his expression. The artwork is solid and the action looks very promising with a slight of hope showing. I should note Kokushibou mentioned about brothers; I wonder if he had one. Three slayers should be fine to take on him; or is it? We could only wait and see.

[akamaiden]

Turning Tables

A/N: My first Hela fic!!! 😍 I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did. 💕

Another note: Here I did something that I truly believe that Odin should've done. Hela could be an amazing ruler if he did have given more attention and affection towards her. She was his damn daughter!

Last note: Shout out to the amazing @thisishowdynastiesareborn who helped me with this fic! And she's amazing, go follow her!

Pairing: Hela Odinsdottir x Valkyrie!Reader.

Requested by anonymous: Can u write Hela x F!Reader - From enemies to lovers plz?

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sexual tension... I think that's all.

Words: 1,595.

Sakaar was a chaotic place. Every little detail could be summarized in one word: mess. And it was exactly because of this that it was the perfect place for hiding.

When Odin sent the Valkyries to defeat Hela, Goddess of Death, his own daughter, you weren't imagining that this would change your life forever. 

Saying that Hela was extremely powerful was an understatement. But you and your sisters were Valkyries. You were part of a group of elite warriors. 

But even so it wasn't enough to overthrow the goddess of death. You fought, of course you did. Still, it was pointless. You watched your sisters dying one after another. 

You just survived because Brunnhilde knocked you out so Hela could think you two were dead as well. 

That's exactly how you two ended in Sakaar. You two were the last Valkyries alive and no one knew that you survived that comfront with Hela. 

You woke up and found Brunnhilde drinking her usual mead dose. She seemed distant and you knew her too well to know that she was hiding something.

“If you continue thinking that hard your head will explode,” you said and reach for the bottle that was in her hand.

“Hey, that's mine!” she huffed.

“Tell me what's going on in your head first,” you said.

“There's nothing going on, Y/N,” she tried.

“Nice try, if I didn't know you since I can remember, I'd believe you,”

“For Freya! Okay, but give me my damn mead first,”

You took a sip from it before handing her the bottle back.

“I met Thor,” she started.

Your eyes widened. She couldn't be talking about Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder and heir of Asgard's thorne, could she?

“Yes, I'm talking about the son of Odin,” she answered your mute question.

“And?”

“He needs help to overthrow Hela,” 

“What did you say to him?” you asked.

“Nothing, yet. But I was thinking and we barely survived the last time we fought her–”

“We're Valkyries. If we die, we die fighting and not running away from possible threats or getting our asses drunk,” you said. 

You knew you were being rude. Brunnhilde was the closest to a family that you ever had. Even when the other Valkyries were alive, you didn't have a strong bond, like you had to her. She was your friend, she was the sister that life gave to you. 

You watched Brunnhilde take a deep breath before saying, “You're right.”

And that's why you were watching Thor and Brunnhilde discussing like two children.

“Can you two stop for a moment?” you tried talking.

No response. The only one that was paying attention to you was Banner who just shrugged. 

“They won't stop before killing one another,” he said.

“I know, that's exactly why I'm trying to interrupt this,” you sighed. “Tell me about her,” he said.

You didn't need to ask him to know that he was talking about Hela.

“She is unstoppable, fierce and lethal,” you said.

“There's must be a weakness,” 

“Trust me, I wish there was something,”

“It's unbelievable that–”

“Brunnhilde!” you screamed when she pointed a dagger to Thor's neck.

You approached them and you made her drop her weapon.

“Have you lost your damn mind? He's our king,” you tried to reason with her.

“It's okay, Y/N,” Thor said.

“No it's not. Can you please stop acting like a child?” you said to him. “Same goes to you,” you said looking at Brunnhilde.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“I'm tired from all this. This is about Asgard, can you two please stop fighting when there are people under Hela's control?” you said.

Before they could say something you continued, “If we're here alone, doing nothing but getting drunk and trying to survive day after fucking day it's because of her,” you said directly to Brunnhilde.

“And you, my king, it's better you act like the almighty God of Thunder you are and save your kingdom from her. But if you want to rule over dead bodies, all you have to do is continuing acting like that” you said.

Blue and brown eyes looked at you in total desbelief and you just shrugged.

“I'm so done from all this,” you said and left them behind.

You made your way to the place you shared with Brunnhilde and packed your things. With or without them you decided to go to Asgard. 

The travel to Asgard passed faster than you wished and before you noticed you were making your way to the throne room. 

The big room was empty, you took some time admiring the golden details of it. You were hiding with your spear in hand, you were thinking about how everything suddenly changed after Odin's death.

You were so focused in your thoughts that you just noticed you weren't alone anymore when you heard her voice.

“See father? You banished me and even so I ended up here, in your throne, ruling your people... I'm the rightful heiress of Asgard's thorne and there's nothing you can do to stop me to take what's mine,” Hela said.

A shiver ran down your spine. You didn't heard her voice back when Odin sent the Valkyries to stop her. You gulped noticing that her voice was embedded with power and strength. She was a powerful woman and she knew that.

“I wish you could answer me, father,” she scoffed. “Fortunately you're dead. But I must confess I'd love to see your face when I sat in your throne for the very first time. You did everything to stop me from getting here and it was pointless,” she laughed.

Your hands held the spear tighter. How dared she speak about Odin that way? He was her father after all.

“You were afraid of me, father. Why? I'm your heiress, your first born child. And what did you do? You banished me because you couldn't control me like you did to my brother. Thor was just a puppet in your strings, right? He's idiot. I've heard that he's going to Midgard, defending midgardians. That's ridiculous!” she said.

That woman is fucking crazy. She's talking alone for the last minutes, you thought.

“I wish you could see when I kill him, because trust me, I'll kill him. He's a living threat to my kingdom, and obviously I'll eliminate him. Same goes to Loki, son of Frigga. Tell me father, how could you care and love such a monster like him?” she continued. “I just wanted you to love me. I wanted you to be proud of me. I just wish you could be the father I wanted the most and what did I get? You banished me, and I won't forgive you for trying to steal what's mine and that's exactly why that I'll make your people suffer, I'm their queen and I'll do as I please,” she said and sobbed. 

You tried to move in your place to watch her better and your spear slid from your hands. 

“Shit!” you cursed lowly.

“Who's there?” Hela said standing up and running her eyes through the room.

You sighed and left your hidden place to face her. You watched her eyes widening when she recognized you.

“I thought you were all dead,” she said smiling. 

“I wish I was,” you said.

“You came to kill me I suppose,” 

“No,”

“Excuse me?” 

“I heard your conversation and I'm sorry,” 

“You what?” 

“I'm sorry, Hela. I didn't know about your relationship with Odin,” you said.

“Whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work. You can’t defeat me,” she said.

“I know. At first I came to fight you or die trying but I heard you,” you said and took your sword out and putted in her feet. “My loyalty is yours, Queen Hela,” you continued and knelt in front of her.

“Unexpected,” she said but offered you her hand to help you get on your feet. “I want you for my Queens guard,” she continued.

“As you please,” you said. 

After this you got more and more close to her, it was a surprise discover that Hela could be as sweet as Thor. 

She usually made you a lot of questions about the Valkyries. And here and there you two spent a lot of time together in Frigga's garden. 

You watched with a smiley face Hela laughing at something you said. You two were laying side by side and for the first time you noticed that her smile was so, so beautiful.

You came closer to her and touched her right arm lightly. 

“You should smile more, you're so beautiful,” you said. 

She stopped laughing and you felt your heart racing with fear, you were scared that you made her angry, or even that you were disrespectful to her.

“I-i am sor–” 

And then she interrupted you with a kiss. Her lips felt so soft and warm against your own. You guided a trembling hand to the back of her neck and she hummed happily on the kiss.

You broke the kiss once you two were out of breath. Hela was still smiling and she caressed your cheeks with her fingers. 

“I must confess that I've been waiting for this,” she said.

“What else are you waiting for?” you sassed.

“I can guarantee you that I'm better showing you than talking,” she said.

“You know that your brother is coming, right? We can't lose time,” you said.

“The only one losing time here is you, darling. But don't worry I'll keep your mouth occupied,” and then she kissed you again.

Tags: @ivarsshieldmadien @nothingeverdies @mal-functioning-writer @amour-quinn @deepdarkred

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Battle of Uhud and Afterwards

The Incident of Raji

(4th Year of the Migration, the Month of Safar)

After the Battle of Uhud, some Arab tribes thought that Muslims became weak due to their defeat in the battle ; they started to have some movements and acts against Madinah, the center of Islam. One of those who started to prepare was Khalid b. Sufyan. When he completed the preparations to walk against Madinah, the Prophet heard about it. He sent Abdullah b. Unays in order to find out about news. Abdullah b. Unays, who learned that it was true from Khalid b. Sufyan, who was the planner of act, killed him with his sword.

This event caused the other tribes around to be inactive for a while but they were fostering their feelings of vengeance and attack against Muslims.

When the sly enemy found out that they would not cope with Muslims openly, they tried to find other ways to satisfy their feeling of vengeance. A delegate of six people from the tribes of Adal and Qara disguised as innocent people came to Madinah. They said that they were Muslims and went to the presence of the Prophet.

They said, “O Messenger of God! Islam has spread among our tribe. Please send some of your Companions to explain us the decrees of Islam and to teach the Quran!”

The Messenger of God did what they wanted because their demand seemed innocent and reasonable and it would serve Islam. He sent ten Companions under the command of Marsad b. Abi Marsad with them. Seven of the ten Companions whose names were known were as follows:

Marsad b. Abi Marsad, Khalid b. Abi Bukayr, Abdullah b. Tarıq, Asim b. Thabit, Hubayb b. Adiyy, Zayd b. Dasinna and Muattib b. Ubayd.

When the Companions came to the well belonging to the tribe of Huzay called Raji, they understood that they faced a mean and villainous betrayal. They were exposed to the attack of about a hundred archers all of a sudden. The people who had said, “We embraced Islam; send us a delegate to teach us” left them under the attack of the archers of the tribe of Lihyan.

The Muslims drew their swords and took shelter on the mountain. They tried to defend themselves with their swords but they could not resist for a long time. The traitors surrounded the mountain they had sheltered.

They said, “If you surrender and come down, we will not kill you!” The Muslim teachers did not rely on what the polytheists said and refused to surrender. One of them, Asim b. Thabit said, “I have sworn that I will never accept the protection of polytheists. I will never surrender to those unbelievers” Then, he prayed, “O God! Inform your Messenger about us.” Meanwhile, he was throwing arrows at the polytheists. While throwing arrows, he said, “Why should I not fight? I am strong enough; my arrows are with me; the string of my arrow is thick; arrows flow thanks to my bow.

“Death is bound to come; the world is ephemeral.

What is predetermined is to be suffered!

People will return to God sooner or later!

If I do not fight you, let my mother lose her son.”

When that heroic Companion ran out of arrows, he started to use his spear. When his spear broke, he drew his sword. After killing many polytheists, his last prayer was,  

“O God!  I tried to protect your religion; protect my dead body from the polytheists.”

The other Companions fought heroically, too. However, what could ten people do against one hundred people. Eventually, seven Companions, including Asim b. Thabit, were martyred by the arrows of the polytheists. When the remaining three Companions were promised by the polytheists that they would not be killed, they surrendered. The polytheists tied them fast with the strings of their bows. Then, they set out for Makkah. Their aim was to sell them to the polytheists of the Quraysh, whose hearts were full of grudge and hatred against them.

On the way to Makkah, Abdullah b. Tariq ran away. However, he was martyred by the stones thrown by the polytheists. Two Companions were left:  Zayd b. Dasinna and Hubayb b. Adiyy. The polytheists sold them in Makkah.

Asim b. Thabit had killed two sons of Sulafa, a ferocious polytheist woman,  in the Battle of Uhud. That evil woman had sworn that she would drink wine out of Asim’s skull if she captured him. The Sons of Lihya knew about it. Therefore, they wanted to take the head of Asim b. Thabit to that woman in Makkah. However, God did not let them do it. God Almighty accepted Asim b. Thabit’s prayer, “O God! I sacrificed my soul in order to protect your sublime religion beginning from the day I became a Muslim. Today is my last day. Protect my dead body from the polytheists!”, which he said just before he was martyred. When the polytheists wanted to approach his dead body, a swarm of bees appeared next to his dead body and did not let them approach it. Therefore, they left that place and decided to take the dead body the next morning. However, when they arrived there in the morning, his dead body was not there. The polytheists were surprised because God Almighty sent rain during the night and the flood drifted the dead body, protecting it from the filthy hands of the polytheists.    

Hazrat Hubayb and Hazrat Zayd are Martyred

Hazrat Hu­bayb b. Adiyy and Zayd b. Dasinna, who were taken to Makkah by the Sons of Lihya, were bought by some people whose relatives had been killed in Badr and were imprisoned. The decision of the Quraysh was to kill those two Companions. After inflicting torture on them for a while, they took them to the place called Tanim one day. Those two heroic Companions hugged each other and advised patience to each other.  

Tanim was full of people: young and old male and female. They had gone there to watch the wild torture that those two Companions would suffer. They went there to cheer the murderers who trampled on freedom and humanity. They knew that they could not take the revenge of Badr in Uhud with their unfinished victory; therefore, they wanted to take their revenge on those two innocent, defenseless and unarmed Companions by hanging them.  

Hazrat Hubayb is Martyred

They had dug a hole and set up the gallows tree.

They took Hubayb toward the gallows. Hubayb, whose heart was full of the love of God and His Messenger, was calm and unhesitant. He regarded being martyred for the religion of God as the greatest honor. He wanted permission to perform a two-rak’ah prayer. When they let him, he turned to his Lord with all his sincerity. After performing the prayer, he turned to the polytheists and said, “I swear by God that I would prolong the prayer if I did not fear that you would say, ‘Hubayb feared death and prolonged the prayer!’”

Thus, Hazrat Hubayb became the first person to start the practice of performing a two-rak’ah prayer before being executed.

The polytheists said to him, “If you give up Muhammad’s religion and return to your ancestors’ religion, we will forgive you!”

The heroic Companion said, “By God, no! I will never give up Islam. Even if you gave me the whole world, I would not give up Islam!”

This time, the polytheists said, “Tell us the truth; you would be pleased if Muhammad was here instead of you and killed instead of you, wouldn’t you?”

The answer of the Companion, who was yearning for the love of the Messenger of God, astonished the polytheists: “I swear by God that I would rather lose my house, life and family than hear that a thorn prick the foot of the Prophet!”

The polytheists just laughed at the answers of Hubayb because they had never seen such sacrifice and they had not experienced the happiness of loyalty to God and His Messenger.

When the Companion looked around, he could not see even one luminous face. All of the faces were sullen; the ugliness of the polytheism was manifest on their faces. There was nobody that could send his greetings to the Prophet among the crowd. He had nothing to do but send his greetings on the gallows tree. He invoked:

“O God!  I can see nothing but the faces of the enemy now!

“O God!  There is nobody that can give my regards to Your Messenger here! Please give my regards to him!

“O God!  You informed us about the prophethood of Your Messenger. Inform him about what happened to use in the morning.”

While he was praying, the Messenger of God received the greetings of Hubayb in Madinah saying, “Peace be on you!” Then, he turned to his Companions and said, “The Qurayshis martyred Hubayb.”

Hazrat Hubayb was tied to the tree. There were forty young people whose fathers had been killed standing against him with their spears. When they received the order, they started to hit him with the spears. They wanted Hubayb to die under torture. For a moment, Hubayb turned his face toward the Kaaba and thanked God for it: ”Praise be to God, who turned my face  to the qiblah that God, His Messenger and believers are pleased with.”

The Qurayshi polytheists could not put up with it anymore and turned his face away from the Kaaba. However, the self-sacrificing Companion wanted to be martyred facing the Kaaba. He prayed his Merciful Lord, “O God! If I am a good person in the eye of You, turn my face toward the qiblah.”

The polytheists could not turn Hubayb’s face, which had been turned to the qiblah, away from the qiblah.

There was very little time left for Hubayb to be martyred. He prayed against those who inflicted that torture on him due to his belief in and love of God and His Messenger by saying, “O God! Destroy the Qurayshi polytheists; eliminate them. Kill them all! Do not leave any one of them alive!”

This loud prayer echoed in Tanim, terrifying the unbelievers’ hearts. Some of them lay face down. Some of them plugged their ears. This fear continued long after Hubayb was martyred.

With spears stuck in his chest, Hubayb shouted at the faces of the polytheists the existence and oneness of God, and the prophethood of His Messenger. Then, he died as a martyr. Thus, he became the first Muslim to die on the gallows tree in the way of God.  

It is Hazrat Zayd’s Turn

The martyrdom of Hazrat Hubayb was to be followed by the martyrdom of Hazrat Zayd.

The polytheists took him to Tanim, too, and tied on the gallows tree.

They offered him the same things that they had offered to Hazrat Hubayb. However, he gave the same answers as Hubayb recklessly.

Abu Sufyan could not hide his astonishment and appreciation. He said,  “I have never seen anyone loved as much as Muhammad by his friends!”

When the offers of the polytheists were rejected by Zayd, they started to shoot arrows at him and martyred him. The body of the great Companion was tied there but God knows in what high realm his spirit was travelling.

Both of those Companions died without hesitating even for a moment about their belief in and loyalty to God and His Messenger.