#I’m sorry bones butchered it so bad but please

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

girl help

[world0fmadness]

LOVE PSALM

pelle “ dead ” ohlin x hypersexual! reader

♡ general dating headcanons for pelle with a hypersexual partner!

୨୧ i’m not hypersexual myself so i’m sorry if i butchered this really badly… i’ve only ever had a friend who was hypersexual and he would just try to distract himself from it a lot of the time, if any part of this is wrong or offensive, please do tell me and i’ll remove it or fix it <3

♡ requested by a user on ao3 | related hc available here and here | view my metal masterlist here

reading music recommendations: human sacrifice by gorgoroth - love psalm by akira yamaoka

♡ you and pelle are kind of polar opposites!

୨୧ he barely has a sex drive, his mind always too busy with other thoughts to really have a desire for sex

♡ you on the other hand have a hyper sex drive, to a point where it often affects your life in a negative way

୨୧ i can see pelle honestly finding it pretty intriguing, when he first meets you or you first start dating he’ll probably be a little tiny bit intrusive and ask a lot of questions about it

♡ his questions will come out of nowhere too, you’ll just be sitting next to him on the couch and boom

“ what is it like? is it always? have you been like it for long? ” ( he doesn’t even turn towards you to ask and keeps his eyes on the tv in front of the couch )

୨୧ it takes you a couple seconds to register what the hell he’s even asking!

♡ if you maybe tell him to relax a little because the questions are way too… personal per say, he’ll go quiet and nod, mumbling something that sounds like an apology

୨୧ however after you’ve been dating for a little while, pelle has seen firsthand just how bad this effects you and how it’s not just some little thing in your life

♡ he’s still very intrigued by it but surprisingly treats it much more sensitively and only asks questions about how it is when you’re comfortable and having a good day

୨୧ when you tell him your boundaries, what he should and shouldn’t do, he’s pretty understanding… listening intently and nodding, making sure to actually listen to what you’re saying and keep it in mind

♡ you don’t really have to worry too much with him though, he’s not insanely fond of touching and other things that could affect you negatively

୨୧ pelle tries his absolute best to help you through it, especially the really bad days!

♡ due to all of his mental health difficulties, he can have a lot of bad days too but now that he has you? he often feels like he needs to pull through, for you

୨୧ he often just tries to help by distracting you from the overwhelming feelings you’re having, showing you some bones he collected or new drawings he did, even offering to go on a walk through the woods with you if you think it’d help

♡ whenever you’re with him at the house he shares with his band mates, he’ll hide any pornographic material he finds! shoving playboy magazines into drawers and porn tapes under couches

୨୧ he wants you to at least feel almost fine in the house…

♡ if it’s a really bad day and absolutely nothing is helping you try to get your mind away from sexual urges, pelle will have sex with you, just so that you’re not as nervous and restless

୨୧ often times he’ll just lay back on his mattress and gesture for you to come over, letting you take control and do what you need to do, mumbling comforting words towards you

“ it’s okay… not your fault, you’re okay… ” ( there’s a look of love and almost understanding in his eyes, as if he understands what you’re going through but in a different way )

♡ after you’re done, he won’t cuddle but he will throw an arm over you and stoke your hair as you both stare up at the ceiling

୨୧ but if having sex a lot is something that you just need to do and nothing can ever really distract you, it’s the exact same!

♡ he’ll gladly help you through it, letting you be on top and do what you need to do! gently holding your hips and letting out quiet groans here and there <3

୨୧ but if it’s a day where he’s particularly tired and restless, he’ll just let you masturbate and finger you! kissing your thighs and mumbling loving words into the skin

♡ he just always wants to help you, you tell him what you need and he’ll do it, anything to help you through it

୨୧ pelle will really try to steer you away from alcohol too, he obviously doesn’t stop you from having a drink or two but if he starts seeing you pick it up as a coping mechanism or something similar?

♡ yeah no, that’s where he steps in so fast! he absolutely won’t be having that… he’s much smarter than i think some people give him credit for, he’s very aware of how much damage things can do, even as such a young guy

୨୧ if you’re on any medication to try and help you, he’ll always quietly remind you to take it when you need to

♡ usually reminding you by bringing over the pill box and mumbling something before going to grab a glass of water for you to swallow the pill easier

“ here… you haven’t taken your pill yet, i’ll get you some water… ” ( again, he’s very on top of things like this when it comes to you, he really wants to help you and keep you safe and healthy )

୨୧ i think in a strange way, pelle would almost relate to you and your urges

♡ not in the exact same way but how it feels to have uncontrollable urges, he knows that and he’s familiar with that as it’s so similar to his self harming… the urges he gets to hurt himself, those urges that he often can’t control

୨୧ pelle really just wants you to know that you’re not some burden in his life, you’re not hard to love and there’s nothing wrong with you

♡ to him, you’re everything he’s ever wanted and he loves you a whole lot, hyper-sexuality and all…

[dyke-will-graham]

My list of songs so Hannigram coded it’s insane and the lyrics that make them so:

Salt in the Wound- Boygenius

‘You put salt in the wound, and a kiss on my cheek. You butter me up and you sit down to eat’

‘Neck full of mockingbirds all calling your name…I’m gnashing my teeth like a child of Cain’

I’m Your Man- Mitski

‘You’re an Angel, I’m a dog. Or you’re a dog and I’m you’re man. You believe me like a God, I destroy you like I am.’

‘I’m sorry I’m the one you love, no one will ever love me like you again so when you leave me I should die. I deserve it don’t I?’

Famous Last Words (an Ode to Eaters) - Ethel Cain

‘Look at me baby, dead in my eyes. It’s the end of our holiday, but it isn’t goodbye. Carry me with you all of the time.’

‘Eat of me baby, skin to the bone. Body on body until I’m all gone. But I’m with you inside.’

It Will Come Back- Hozier

All I’m gonna say is first verse is Hannibal POV, second is Will POV talking to eachother I could write a damn essay on this song and Hannigram

Shrike- Hozier

‘The words hung above, but never would form. Like a cry at the final breathe that is drawn. Remember me love, when I am reborn as the Shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.’

‘Had no idea on the ground i was founded, oh that goodness is gone with you now. Then I met you, my virtues uncounted. My goodness is goin with you now.’

‘Back to the hedgerow where the bodies are mounted’

Abbey- Mitski

‘I am hungry, I have been hungry, I was born hungry, what do I need?’

Butchered Tongue- Hozier

This one I think is Will when he married Molly and settling into his new life but still looking for Hannibal in everything.

UPDATE:

Talk- Hozier

Once again getting into the Greek mythology themes and Hannigram parallels. Orpheus and Eurydice as Will and Hannibal haunts me.

‘I’d be the immediate in Eurydice, imagine being loved by me.”

Paralleled with the scenes of Hannibal and Wills seperate “I forgive you”.

Me and My Husband - Mitski

‘At least in this lifetime we’re sticking together.’

This is a little cracky, but this song reminds me of the way Hannibal and Will are chasing potentials and scenarios where they can stay together. Teacups and all that and yes the world is on fire but Hannibal and Will are together so it’s okay.

Breezeblocks- alt-j

Enough said.

NFWMB - Hozier

‘Give your heart and soul to charity. Because the rest of you, the best of you Honey belongs to me.’

The possessiveness of Hannibal and Will over eachother is insane, we know this. And I think people forget that Will is just as bad as Hannibal about it. (Just see any interaction between Bedelia and Will for evidence)

Salvatore- Lana Del Rey

“The summers wild and I’ve been waiting for you all this time. I adore you can’t you see you were meant for me?”

“Catch me if you can…dying at the hand of a foreign man, happily.”

Once More to See You- Mitski

“But with everybody watching us, our every move. We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won’t let them have it.”

“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses then I wouldn’t have to scream your name.”

Televangelism- Ethel Cain

No lyrics in this one, just piano and the sound of me crying softly. This song is EVERYTHING the Primavera scene was in Dolce. Please listen. The slow build, the melodic flutter of a heartbeat the rise and ascension when they see each other and smile at one another, the acceptance of fate, the knowledge of love. “You and I have begun to blur.”

anything - Adrienne Lenker

“I don’t wanna be the owner of your fantasy I just wanna be a part of your family.”

Savior Complex- Phoebe Bridgers

“Drift off on the floor, I drag you to the shore. Sweating through the sheets you’re gonna drown in your sleep for sure. Wake up and start a fire in our one room apartment but I’m too tired to have a pissing contest, all the bad dreams that you hide show me yours I’ll show you mine.”

“Baby you’re a Vampire, you want blood and I promised I’m a good liar with a savior complex.”

Pre-Mizumono to Post-Fall Hannigram can be found everywhere in this song.

OKAY OKAY THATS IT IF YOU STAYED THIS LONG THANKS IF YOU WANT MORE HANNIGRAM LISTEN TO MY PLAYLIST ITS CHALK FULL OF ANGST

[helliontherapscallion]

Hello! Um hopefully this is ok but can you do a platonic poly relationship with tech reader and philza? And one day the reader comes over to there abode with a basket full of sweets and pastries (muffins bread ect-) also cottagecore quiet reader please she/they pronouns

Thank you! :D

(A/N): I’m back yall! Sorry I’ve been gone (in terms of writing/request doing) for so long, I just kinda lost motivation to write for a bit

Ok so you’re childhood best friends with Technoblade

You two met when you accidentally bumped into each other in the village by the sbi fam’s house

You were calmly along the cobblestone path when a cute dress in a store window caught your eye. You kept walking, but you were eyeing the dress as you walked by it. It was just your aesthetic: a vintage ruby red dress with laces tying the two sides together, a floused opening to the bottom of the dress, and puffy white sleeves. It looked like it was in your size too. It was absolutely perfect.

Just as you were about to walk into the store to check out the price, you bumped into someone and fell to the ground behind you. Looking up, you saw that the person that you bumped into was also on the ground looking at you. You saw that the boy was about your age with fair skin and long pastel pink hair tied into a messy ponytail. Peculiarly, he had small tusks poking out from his bottom lip, floppy pig ears on the top of his head, and crimson eyes. A piglin hybrid perhaps?

Feeling a small blush work it’s way onto your face, you quickly got up and held out a hand to the boy. “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay? Here, let me help you up.” 

He looked at your hand for a bit before he grabbed it with his own and allowed you to haul him up to his feet. You looked him up and down scanning him for any injuries he might’ve gotten from the fall. Luckily, it didn’t look like he got hurt. The boy looked down at his feet and bent over to pick up the picnic basket and the few muffins that dropped out of it. Putting the muffins back in, he handed the basket back to you with a small smile and a blush of his own.

“It’s really no problem, I’m fine so it’s no harm done. Actually,” he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, “I wasn’t looking where I was going either. I got distracted by that sword in the window.” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder at the armory shop next to the dress shop. In the window was a shining golden sword glimmering in the bright sunlight. If you squinted, you could see a sign that said that it had a high level fire aspect and looting enchantments. 

“Well, it looks really pretty. I don’t know much about swords, so maybe you could tell me about them? I’m (y/n),” you gave him a small smile and stuck out your hand once more. He shook it with a grin, “Technoblade.”

That was the start of a beautiful friendship with him and his family

You met Philza, his father

The avian was extremely excited and happy that his quietest son finally made a new friend

He treated you like you were his own daughter

You might as well be a part of the family with how much you came over to babysit Tommy or to just relax with Techno

You always bring over a basket of baked treats/pastries whenever you came over

Lemme just say, the family feasted and always fought over the last one

When you started to come over at least once a day for a bit with a basket full of sweets, Philza had to pull you aside and ask you to slow down a bit with the treats

“Hey (y/n) could I actually talk to you for a second?”

“Sure! Tech, I’ll be out in a sec.” The piglin hybrid curtly nodded and walked out the back door to the backyard. You smiled at Philza before you set the basket down onto the table and started to put the rolls onto a plate.

“I know it’s not much today, I didn’t have much time yesterday to bake.”

“That’s fine, but it’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Internally, you began to panic slightly. Oh Ender, you didn’t do anything bad did you? You couldn’t think of anything you did wrong. In fact, you actively avoided any wrongdoing or talking to strangers. Oh no, were you accidentally rude to someone?

“You aren’t in trouble,” he smiled lightly when he saw you slump in relief, “I was just wondering why you always bring over baked things. Don’t get me wrong, they’re delicious and we really appreciate that you take the time to make us things, but we kinda have a little too much. Maybe slow down a bit with bringing them over?”

You felt an embarrassed blush spread across your face as you nodded and put all your focus into transferring the bread rolls over to the plate. “Sorry Phil, I just bake whenever I’m stressed or bored and I just have a lot left over after I give some to my family.”

“And that’s completely valid! Just maybe don’t bring over so much, breaking up the fights with Tommy, Wil, and Tech just gets a bit much at times,” he grinned and clapped a hand over your shoulder.

As the years passed, you and Techno only grew closer

You taught Techno how to do meticulous neat braids in his hair while in turn he taught you some self defense

Mans makes sure you can properly and efficiently wield a sword and shoot a bow and arrow 

Poor guy can’t lose another friend

When he moves to the tundra, he invites you to live with him but you reluctantly refuse

You had Tommy and Wilbur to look after in L’manberg

Being pissed at Schlatt when he exiles them

Following them into exile leaving behind shocked Manbergians 

They didn’t think you were capable of the screaming, let alone such profanity

Practically launching yourself at Techno when he agrees to helping Pogtopia

Him making sure that the withers don’t harm you, even going as far as hitting them and luring them away from you

Staying with Techno after L’manberg is reinstated under Tubbo’s rule

Starting to dislike leadership and governments in general after Tommy gets exiled (again)

Convincing Technoblade to let Tommy stay with you two

Absolutely hating governments when the Butcher Army places Philza under house arrest and rolls up to your guys’ house and takes Techno and Carl

They lock you in the house, but you pick the lock with the bobby pin you kept the bandana pinned to your hair with 

You follow them to L’manberg and break down when you see the anvils crashing down onto Techno

Screaming profanities at the Butcher Army and taking out your sword to attack them not noticing when Techno runs away safely

Philza watching everything from the balcony and cheering you on

You almost take away one of Fundy’s (whom you considered to be your nephew until the whole Butcher Army incident) lives before you feel a sword slice your arm and an arrow shooting its way through your thigh

Turning, you gave Tubbo and Ranboo the fiercest glare you could as you were standing over a half-dead Fundy with a sword dripping blood hanging at your side

You, the soft spoken and sweet one that gave everybody baked goods wherever you went, screaming profanities at the festival and the execution was scary enough, but this?

Absolute nightmare fuel, gonna stick in their minds for a long time

You attempt to fight them but you lose and end up with injuries too severe for you to continue fighting

Philza being the one to yell at you to go home to the tundra telling you that Techno’s alive bc of a totem of undying 

You felt kinda stupid after that, Technoblade never dies (you often half joked that he was immortal like Philza)

You limp home and get met with a bone crushing uncharacteristic hug from Techno

He patches you up after reassuring you that the blood on him wasn’t his (he tells you about the duel in great detail)

In turn you tell him about your 3 v 1 duel, feeling a bit dejected bc you ended up losing

Him being literally so proud of you for facing 3 people at once, but also scolding you slightly for going into it blindly

When Philza moves in, everything feels complete and fulfilled (at least to you)

You help Philza clean and dress his damaged wing

Also helping him do some physical therapy so that he could at least move it

Comforting him whenever he felt down about not being able to fly again

You invite him and Techno to cook with you and it surprisingly ends up better than you expected it to be

When Tommy betrays Techno, you and Philza end up being the only ones he could fully trust (later slowly adding Niki and Ranboo to the mix when The Syndicate is formed)

You are Harpocrates when The Syndicate is formed due to your quiet nature

Philza and Techno fully 100% supporting your decision of not wanting to reveal your identity

At the second meeting you show up with a full mask covering your face and the opposite of what you normally wore (more of a grunge type beat)

Only communicating in nods and writing at meetings, living up to your nickname

You never reveal your identity to Niki or Ranboo

Pleasant late night conversations around the fire with hot chocolate and your baked goods

Techno still lets you braid his hair (sometimes you even put flowers in it) from time to time

You braid Philza’s hair when it gets too long

Braid chains when yall get too bored? Hell yeah 

Ultimately, you three become a strong family unit (goals)

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur

[pixla]

hi hon! i adore your writing and i have a request for tommy: so you know that scene in the caves when alice breaks her leg and cindy has to like put the bone back into place? could that be with tommy x gn! reader instead? and both of them have a really really cute moment where the reader confesses how they never felt alive until they met and started dating tommy? they both survive and flashforward with fluffy smut pls?

Special thanks to the j-st-patricks-day and all my friends who helped with the process of writing this fic <3

broken bones and beating hearts

Tommy slater x nb!reader

Warnings: swearing, graphic descriptions of murder, graphic descriptions of injury (eg. Broken bones and stabbings/cuts), Possessed!Cindy, alice dies, Arnie dies, vomiting, fluff, pet-names, knocking out teeth, sex, unprotected sex, this au doesn’t fit with any of the other films (feel free to tell me if there’s any others)

Word count: 3.2k

POVC= point of view change

Tommy gripped your wrists pulling you out through the narrow cavern as it collapsed only seconds later. “Fuck!” You tucked your legs close to your body, trying to shake the feeling of Cindy's grip around your ankles. “What the fuck is happening?” You looked up as Tommy still held you close, you both too scared to move from the previous near death experience.

Everything was normal. You had all just ran out into the woods, you and Alice teasing Cindy about some stupid witchcraft book she had found in nurse lane’s office. But then Cindy decided to slash Alice and Arnie’s guts open with a machete.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” You cried, bawling your hands into fists, wandering down what felt like endless hallways. You both soon realised that you had been going in a circle. It didn’t make any sense, it felt like another dimension or a mirror maze, where everything looked the same, maybe even was the same. “Y/N.” You turned your head to face tommy. “What?” He looked at you confused. “I didn’t say anything.”

You were going to shake it off as you just imagining it, but then you heard it again. “Y/N!” This time you knew it wasn’t Tommy, it was a woman. “Hello?!” You yelled out, hoping that someone had finally come to your rescue, but Tommy just continued to look at you like you were crazy.

You strayed from Tommy’s side following as the voice repeated your name. “Where are you going?” Tommy yelled after you as you wandered, not bothering to pay any attention to his questions.

You followed the voice, bending through the same corridors and hallways, not knowing where you’d end up. It was when you twisted round one corner you halted in your steps. It was a huge room, far larger than any of the ones you had previously found. But the greatest way it stood out was the mass in the centre of the room.

It was dark and fleshy, like clumps of meat thrown into a pile. You gasped as you stood closer gaining a better look at the thing. It was alive. It rose up and down almost like it was breathing and it thumped like a beating heart. With each whisper of your name you grew closer, drawn to it. You reached your hand out transfixed, but when your hand melted into its flesh, you froze.

It all flashed through your brain so fast. Cyrus Miller, ruby lane, billy baker…Cindy Berman. It was every single one of those shadyside phycos, even Cindy. It was all of the pain, all of the suffering and all of the evil. You lifted your hand, a thick slime dragging with. You backed up slowly, expecting to hit a wall. You were soon proved wrong when you felt your body fly backwards.

You cried out as you landed with a thud, Tommy finally catching up to you, peering over to find you clutching your leg in pain. “Shit, are you okay?!”

He had jumped down helping to lift you from the pit. You sobbed, tears running down your cheeks like a broken faucet, your hands clutching at His shirt. Tommy held you running his finger gently through your hair, shushing you softly as you buried yourself into his warmth.

Tommy gently slipped from your hold, leaning down to examine the damage. It was bad. So bad, you could practically see the bone protruding from the skin. You felt your gut wrench at the sight causing you to lean over beside you, regurgitating your dinner onto the cold cave floor. “Don’t look, okay? Just look at me.” Tommy leant over wiping your mouth with his jacket. You nodded slowly, trying your best to keep your eyes locked with Tommy’s despite how hard your morbid curiosity urged you to look down. Ripping his plaid jacket into strips he looked up at you. “We’re gonna get out of here. You’re gonna get out of here. No matter what I do, I’m gonna make sure I protect you, just like I always have.”

“I love you so much Tommy. I’ve never and never will love someone the way I do you.” You lean into him pressing your foreheads together. “I can’t lose you, okay?” He nods sympathetically, pressing a light kiss to the slope of your nose.

“Do you remember those dates we’d go on, out to the forest at night, and we’d just lay there, staring up through the cracks in the trees?” You nod. “I want you to think about that, okay? I want you to think about how many more we’ll go on once we get out of here.”

You hold a tight grip on his arm as he wipes away at the area. “I’m gonna have to put it back into place now.”

You pleaded with him, as the tears started again. “Please, no. Please just leave me here. Just go and find help okay? I can’t do it Tommy, I can’t do it”

“Hey, hey, hey. C’mon, look at me.” He places his hand on your cheek, tilting your head to look him in the eye. “You're gonna be fine, okay? You just gotta focus right now.” You nod timidly, the tears starting to slow.

He holds the bottom of your calf with one hand and your heel with the other. “Just count to three and I’m gonna do it, okay baby?” He looks up at you, his soft words lulling your anxiety. You bite your knuckle nervously, unsure as to how you should answer, but the look of trust in his eyes persuades you easily. “Okay.”

You breathe in. “One, two-” You let out a blood curdling scream as a large crack rung out, bouncing against the walls of the cave. Your fist gripped Tommy’s forearm tightly as you cried out a series of various curses. “You fucking asshole.” You whine out in pain, letting out an airy laugh trying to brighten your rather dull circumstances.

“You're okay baby.” You wince as he wraps the piece of fabric he had ripped from his jacket around your leg, tying it tight enough to hold you together for the moment. You grabbed Tommy’s shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist lifting you from the ground. You hiss as you feel your leg throb from the sudden movement. “Do you think you’re able to stand?” Tommy watches as you wobble trying to stay grounded. You nod. “Yeah.” You had no choice and you both knew it, if you wanted to live, you’d have to.

You both started your journey, finally entering a new environment as you trudged deeper into the earth of Shadyside. Why did these tunnels even exist? The intricate details of the maze made it easy to come to the conclusion that they were man made, but by who? Not once had you ever heard of these tunnels, and by the looks of it, nobody else had either, despite nurse Lane of course.

“Be careful.” Tommy tightened his grip around you. “You might slip.”

“Okay.” You mumble, too exhausted to form a real answer. You looked around at the walls, floor and ceiling. The further the two of you walked, the denser this moss became. You felt a wave of familiarity but you couldn’t quite place it. Red moss…red moss! It hit you, Cindy! Her red stained shirt, she said it was from the moss in the outhouses. “Tommy! It’s the fucking outhouses! We fucking made it!” You would probably be jumping up and down with joy right now if it wasn’t for your broken leg.

You look up, spotting the out house toilet openings. Wow, real nice, you’re both sitting in Sunnyvale shit and piss right now. “Yeah, but how are we supposed to get out?” Tommy sighs looking up at the roughly 15 foot climb. “You can’t climb that.”

You look at him. “Yeah, but you might.”

“No. I’m sorry but no, I’m not leaving you down here, especially when there’s Cindy running around up there trying to kill us. C’mon let’s go, if we’re at the outhouses, we must be near to camp.” He directs you along but before you can both carry on your interrupted. “Did you hear that?!”

“No I-“

“Shush.” You both stayed quiet listening as to what caught your attention. It’s screaming. Someone is screaming from the outhouses. “Hey! Help! Please, we’re stuck down here!” You yell trying to get the attention of the voices.

The space grows quiet as the screaming halts, the both of you waiting nervously for any indication of life when a head pops out from one of the seat holes. “What the fuck are you guys doing in the toilets?!”

It was ziggy, Cindy's sister. “Ziggy..” you wonder if it’s right to tell her what’s happened to her sister but you decide against it, not wanting to put the girl in such an emotionally vulnerable state whilst she’s already physically. “Gary’s up here too!” She yells down as Gary’s head pops out another toilet hole. “Hey!” He yells, surprisingly light heartedly considering there’s a murderer running around camp butchering little kids with a fucking machete. “Can you get us out of this fucking toilet or not?!”

Gary had managed to make some sort of bucket contraption with some rope. “It’s just like You’re Gothel climbing up Rapunzel's hair, okay?!” He yelled down, lowering it down to you.

You're about to slip onto the contraption when you hear Ziggy's unfortunately very familiar screams, and before you know it Gary’s decapitated body lies beside you on the floor. You and Tommy let out an in sync gasp, him pulling you away into his chest, as to protect you from the image. “We’re gonna have to find another way out.”

You think to yourself. Alice…she had shown you something whilst you were robbing nurse lanes office with Arnie. “I know how.” You pull out the book that started this whole thing.

“Baby, I don’t get how that book is gonna help us, let’s be honest it’s some random witches and wizards bullshit written how many hundreds of years ago?”

“No, tommy.” You turn the book to him parting the pages. “It’s a map.” You rest the book on the floor, the two of you leaning over it. “It's a map of camp, you see over here, these x’s are the graves we found. And over here, that’s where we entered.” You point your finger on the page. “Here, there’s another exit. Mess hall.”

His eyes lighten. “Jesus, fuck! You’re so smart!” He pulls you in for a kiss.

—-

You sat, your back arched over as you watched Tommy laid on his back kicking open the vent that led to the mess hall when another scream rang out. You instantly knew that it was ziggy, far too acquainted with the tone of her screams.

“Tommy!” With one final kick the vent flew open, Tommy hauling himself through in a split second. “Don’t move, stay here! I’m gonna go help Ziggy.”

Tommy always cared so much for the kids at camp, you honestly weren’t surprised that he was willing to risk his life for one of them.

—povc—

Tommy barged through the doors of the mess hall, an all too familiar song ringing through the speakers, the noise made his head thump as it blared.

Tommy followed the screams, grabbing a mallet that lied on a nearby counter. Cindy stood beating at a supply closet door as ziggy screamed from within. Tommy pulled cindy's shoulder for her to face him as he swung the mallet into her jaw. Cindy tumbled to the ground as she spat a mouthful of blood and teeth onto the floor. Tommy hesitated holding the mallet in his hand, ready to strike Cindy. But before he could come to any decision Cindy grabbed her machete from the ground slicing at Tommy’s thigh.

Tommy dropped to the floor, his mallet sliding across the freshly mopped floor tiles, Cindy rising to her feet, towering over Tommy. Overpowered, he crawled backwards digging the heels of his hands into the cold tile floor. He was braced for impact when Cindy stopped turning around.

—povc—

You lunged at her digging the knife you found into her back, pulling it out as she turned to face you, plunging it into her chest over and over until she hit the floor unresponsive. You fell. You had finally reached your limit. Your leg was broken for fucks sake and you just murdered Cindy. Pure-hearted, hard working Cindy Berman. You plunged your knife deep into her chest until you split it down the middle. You dragged your body over to Tommy’s wrapping your arms around him, wetting his shirt as you became inconsolable. He held his hand at the back of your neck placing soft kisses onto the top of your head. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay. She’s dead now, we’re gonna be okay.”

You heard as ziggy opened the closet door, dropping to her knees at the sight of her sister dead on the floor. The red headed girl pulled her sister's body over to face her, wrapping her arms around Cindy crying into her cold lifeless body. You crawled over to the girl pulling her away from her sister's touch into yours. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

The three of you struggled as you heard the last bell ring signalling that the bus would be leaving. Ziggy yelled out as the bus doors began to close. The wheels began to roll forwards but before it could depart a boy budged the doors open, calling out to her. “Ziggy!” You released your grip from the girl's side as she ran to him, embracing him. You rested your head on Tommy’s shoulder at the sight of the two. “I hope she’ll be okay.”

The two of you had found a place on the bus as Ziggy sat with you fellow councillor Nick goode. Finally being able to breathe, you rest your head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you're okay.” You look up at him smiling at his words. “Maybe you're the one who really needs protecting, without me you’d be dead meat.” You press your lips together, smiling softly into the kiss. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you.”

Your eyes wandered to the window watching as the camp nightwing sign slowly floated away out of sight. Finally it was over.

———

After the accident medics treated and hospitalised many of the camp nightwing campers and counselors such as you and Tommy. Your leg was thankfully saved. They said if not for Tommy it probably would have had to be amputated due to infection.

It was two months since that night, you still had to use crutches but besides that, you made a speedy recovery alongside tommy. Although he was in a much less critical condition than you and was discharged within a few days, he still spent every night in the hospital with you.

You laid beside Tommy his leg slotted between yours as the velvet underground played softly in the background. You run your fingers through his hair slowly as he whines quietly into your chest. It finally felt like the first time since that day that you both could finally relax.

You pulled away from his touch leaning over him, kissing his lips softly. “You look so pretty.” You hum. He smiles into the kiss. “Not as much as you, baby.”

You lifted yourself straddling Tommy’s hips, deepening the kiss as your hands ran down playing with the hem of his shirt, travelling underneath. He pulls away, his hand rubbing your thigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’m okay.” You reassure him, pressing soft kisses along his collarbone. You removed your shirt as Tommy’s hands floated up to your waist.

“God, you're so beautiful.” He mumbles, kissing up your chest slowly as you take off your pyjama shorts, throwing them to the floor.

You lean down unbuttoning Tommy’s jeans, taking him in your hand. Tommy twitches at the contact as you align himself to you. You lower yourself onto him slowly as his hands hold a firm grip on your lower back. Tommy lays his head back, his hips thrusting up into you.

You shiver as you lift yourself up and down, your thighs shaking from the stimulation. His thrusts hardened, your soft whimpers of his name encouraging him. “You look so fucking good right now.” He gripped your waist helping you keep a steady pace.

You steadied yourself, leaning your arms out pressing your hands against his chest as you felt yourself near your climax. “Shit, Tommy I’m gonna come.” You whined under your breath.

“Don’t worry baby, me too.” He runs his hands down your back lovingly.

You threw your head back as you felt Tommy’s hand wander down edging you on further, your breath quivering at the touch. You felt his hips buckle beneath you as he reached his peak, yours following soon after.

You sighed your body collapsing onto his chest. “I love yours so much.” You mumble into his skin as he presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

—-

It was the 16th anniversary since that day at nightwing, the two of you still happily together. Despite the permanent scar that night had left on the both of you mentally and physically, you both managed to stay strong, the event probably making the two of you even closer than you already were before.

Every year instead of hiding from the memories of that night, you both embrace it. Tommy’s favourite way to do this was to ‘reenact your youths’ in his words by driving the two of you out to the forest, where you would’ve spent so many nights together when you were younger.

You would open the sunroof and lay out the seats creating a little bed for the two of you. Probably not the safest thing the two of you could do, but most definitely the sweetest.

The two of you laid there staring up at the trees, resting your head on Tommy’s chest, your arm draped across his abdomen. Looking up at him you pressed a small kiss to the slope of his nose, pressing your heads together. The moonlight glazed over his cheeks, giving him a paler look. “You look so beautiful.”

—-

The car ride home was quiet but the atmosphere felt soft and comforting as Tommy rested his hand on your inner thigh. The velvet underground played softly on the radio as your eyes gazed out at the passing scenery.

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

18. Skeleton

Buddy and Sammy find the “goldfish room” as the latter calls it, AKA the closet where Joey keeps his skeletons, literally. And in the process, Buddy learns about a few of the skeletons in Sammy’s metaphorical closet. (Set during ink hell, pre loop, post Buddy befriending the lost ones/searchers.)

The Prophet was a strange ally.

It was weird to work alongside someone who worships the guy who tore you in half and is the biggest reason why you’re stuck in a nightmarish, inescapable studio, especially when it wasn’t the nicest or friendliest person before getting claimed by the ink. (Although, as he thought back on it, had he ever met Sammy before it was claimed by the Ink?)

But ANY ally was better than an enemy, especially when that ally knows the studio better than anyone else down here. Besides, it seemed like the Ink man was either unaware of their past or didn’t even know who they used to be, and even if it did, it wasn’t angry about their past issues.

At the same time, working on scavenging trips with the former musician was a nightmare; it was way too tranquil about the situation, and there were too many weird murderous monsters that the wolf and gofer were aware of.

“I do not need to run, little wolf. I can evade these creatures without issue through my Lord’s gift.” The Prophet calmly stated as Buddy gestured confusion about why it didn’t run when the pair heard something that sounded suspiciously like the projectionist’s screams. “Besides, running through these halls is risky, I would be heard by those… more unsavory denizens of this studio and get ambushed by them.”

He wished his typewriter was quieter in instances like this, being able to type out ‘But what if you get caught by your lord?’ and other messages to hand to him without risking alerting the Ink Demon would be great. Or just having his voice back in general.

“If my Lord decides to send me back to the puddles, then it is his right to do so to prove I have changed.” He answered the unspoken question. “But it does mean that I have to work harder to get him to notice how much I have improved, get him to notice me…” 

‘Please don’t read my mind unless I give you the “go for it” gesture. It’s creepy otherwise.’

“My apologies, little wolf, while your thoughts come in quieter than everybody else’s… they’re still noticeable, especially when it’s just the two of us.”

Buddy hesitantly nodded and just tried to lead the Prophet out of the ransacked room to look for more stray supplies.

A few more hours of searching lead the pair to a locked room, something that experience told him meant that either it was another dead end or a hidden treasure trove of supplies, and not wanting to go back to the safe house empty handed, he was ready to roll those dice.

Buddy gestured for the Prophet to stand guard as he picked the door’s lock, and as the door slowly creaked open, he was thankful that he couldn’t speak because the scream that came out from his mouth would’ve been loud enough to alert every monster in the studio.

The former gofer felt sick to his stomach when he saw them. Piles upon piles of rotting, mangled, corpses. Human Corpses, not toony corpses like the other Borises or the butchered up members of the Butcher gang. Most of them were unrecognizable, partly because he had never seen most of these people in his life, and partly because they had decayed so much that what remained was hard to figure out who was who and what. The oldest corpses were nothing but skeletons and clothes, and the freshest one looked like…

...Like his own body.

“The goldfish room...” The prophet muttered loud enough for Buddy to hear, startling the poor pup out of his skin as he didn’t hear him enter behind him.

The wolf shuddered and continued to scour the room for anything worth the hassle of all of this. Boris wanted to take a few of the bones, which Buddy unenthusiastically obliged.

“Don’t eat those!” The Prophet interjected so loudly and harshly that it startled both the former gofer and the wolf toon. The ink creature’s anger was so much scarier with how rare it was to see now. “Especially not him! He’s my-” The Prophet stopped itself by covering its ‘mouth’ with its hands as if it was about to reveal a big secret and just took the skeletal arm out of Buddy’s hands and put it back where he found it. Its voice went back to it’s normal calm tone that reminded him of someone who was on the verge of falling asleep, but Buddy heard somberness in the musician’s pitch. “...they’re unclean...”

‘Prophet?’ Buddy gave him the “go ahead, read my mind” gesture. ‘Prophet, what is this place? Who are these people?’

“...You’ve seen your own corpse among them, correct?”

Buddy nodded.

“I know you’ve met Joey, but tell me; ...Has he ever called you ‘Henry’ before?”

‘Yes he has, but what does that have to do with…’ he gestured at the bodies on the floor ‘this?!’

“Henry’s been gone for a long time now.” The prophet stated, but there was a hint of recollection in his tone that weakened the calmness, and the more he talked, the more broken (for lack of a better term) his voice became. “Do you think that you were Joey’s first replacement goldfish? That after Henry left the studio, you were Joey’s only other other Henry?”

Buddy’s ears began ringing and he heard music; it was loud, distorted, fast-paced, and all over the place, the type of music that makes your heart pound out of your chest and makes your hackles stand up, the type of music that tells you to run, but doesn’t clue you in to where or why. The prophet’s body started to shake and tremble.

“The first Other-Henry was actually named Henry as well. And like his predecessor, was an excellent artist who really connected with the characters...”

‘Sammy? What’s going on? do you hear this too?!’

“But unlike Stein, Ross was a very stubborn person who refused to let anyone push him around, especially by either Joey or myself. Surprisingly, I liked that man, but he didn’t last long...”

Fear kept Buddy’s legs frozen to the ground as he covered his ears in a fruitless attempt to muffle the music, it felt like it was being played directly in his head, and then it clicked when the whispers started up, whispers in their tone, but not in volume, they were loud enough to drown out parts of what the Prophet was saying;

‘Sammy help us!’

“The next one was more like you, a younger, less experienced and more skittish person, his first name was ‘Lawrence’ so everyone called him ‘Larry’ to avoid confusion...”

‘Sammy, where are you?’

“...But he was also too nosy for that poor boy’s own good.”

‘you’re too weak!’

“The one after that was a scatterbrained fellow, very passionate about his work but didn’t focus very much on one topic or another...”

The Prophet’s monologue was completely drowned out by the music and chorus of desperate and angry “Other Henries” at this point. Buddy knew he was still talking because of the musician’s gestures, but didn’t hear a single word out of him. 

‘Saaaaaammyyyyyyy....’ ‘You’re such a spineless coward...’ ‘Sammy please save us..!’ ‘Why did you let Joey kill us?’ ‘The ink... it’s so cold...’ ‘No wonder Susie hates you so much...’ ‘Sammy, please! It hurts!’ ‘Why did you let us die?’ ‘Why won’t you help us?’ ‘You’re no better than Joey.’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘I thought you loved me...’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘You promised me that you’d always be there!’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘They were right about you...’ ‘Sammy, help us!’ ‘Saaaaaammyyyyyyy....’

He knew that the lost ones, searchers and Prophet could hear each others’ thoughts, but didn’t understand what that was like until now that he was hearing Sammy’s thoughts. No wonder most of them were always so depressed and on edge...

‘Sammy?’ the gofer shook Sammy gently, only to hear his own voice join the chorus of other Henries as one of the ones who sounded like he was mad at him. ‘Sammy, snap out of it!’ he shook the Prophet harder, still not waking the Ink creature out of its trance. ‘SAMMY!’ Doing the first thing that came to mind out of desperation, Buddy slapped the mask clean off of it.

The music and voices died as if they were a candle light snuffed out by the wind.

For a few seconds that felt more like hours, Buddy and Sammy stared at each other in silence before Sammy put its mask back on as if nothing happened and led the toon wolf out of the goldfish room, took a key out of its pocket and locked it behind them.

-----

Back in the safe house, Buddy started up a pot of bacon soup, the stuff tasted a little bit better when it was hot while Sammy tuned the banjo in the dining area and Dot tried to stir up conversation.

“So... how did the supply run go?”

“Fine.”

Buddy involuntarily let out a snort as he took the soup off the stove and took out his typewriter.

[It was the scariest one we’ve ever done so far.

While looking around for stuff, we ended up in this place S The Prophet called ‘the Goldfish room’ and it was filled with dead bodies. HUMAN dead bodies. And mine was in the pile! I couldn’t tell if it was haunted or if it was just the prophet’s thoughts going]

“Little wolf, I do not wish to think about that room again...”

[Sorry.]

The wolf sheepishly put the typewriter to the side and poured the soup into bowls. As the toon and lost one ate, the prophet mostly just stared into his bowl as if he was watching something in it.

“...Before my enlightenment, I was not a good person.” The masked musician stated unprompted.

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t an evil person per say, and I wouldn’t go as far as to call the man I used to be a monster.” He sighed and adjusted his mask. “But I was certainly a bad person, an asshole, a coward who hid behind physical strength, and I had more vices than virtues.”

[Prophet, what are you talking about?]

“I’m trying to answer the questions I know you have before either of you two pester them out of me. Maybe when you’re sated my Lord will allow me to forget again.”

[Are you sure? you seemed really upset back ...there.]

“Well look at it this way, maybe getting it off your chest will help you feel better about it?”

“I suppose...” The prophet sighed again.

“So what does you being a crackhead before finding the Ink Demon Religion have to do with a room full of dead bodies?”

“Dorthy!”

“...I’ll just listen before asking anything else.”

“Thank you.” It readjusted its mask. “Now where was I...” it hummed to itself for a bit before speaking again, with venom slowly but surly pooling into its words. “I had more vices than virtues, and Joey could see all of both, using my virtues to his advantage, and using my vices against myself, he did everything he could to keep me from leaving him too, and it worked.”

The prophet took in a deep breath to stabilize itself.

“Every time I tried to leave, he did something else to make me stay; ‘I love you’s turned to gifts, gifts to false promises, false promises to threats, threats to blackmail, blackmail to going through with it, and when he felt me slipping through his fingers he turned to taking advantage of my addictions... That... monster was a parasite in all aspects except physically... And I didn’t even notice until I might as well have been a walking corpse as I was seeing others march to my fate, but I couldn’t even so much as squeak out a warning without Joey swooping in on his behalf. Some Henries, heads of the art department, didn’t need to be warned by me as they found out what would await them and fled. But Joey didn’t like that... When I tried to warn the ones who needed to be warned, it was easy for him to dismiss me as a loon, a drunk, and an addict, until eventually I just gave up. I couldn’t even save myself, let alone anyone else... let alone the other art departments...”

“...I just stopped trying to keep Joey from leading the sheep to the slaughter, maybe they’re right to be angry at me for being such a coward...”

It then turned to face the wolf and put its hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve asked yourself if you’ve ever met me before the Ink had claimed me, as for that, I don’t know, nor do I think it matters, Buddy. I was nothing but a shallow and beaten husk of myself long before I even had tasted the ink. Even if you met me before then, you only met a ghost, not a person.”

The three then stayed in silence for a while before the clicks of Buddy’s typewriter caught the other two’s attention.

[Well, if it helps you any I think you’re not as bad of a person as you tell yourself you used to be.]

“And I don’t need to hear everyone’s thoughts to know that you’ve really stepped up to the plate when it counted. I don’t think a coward would try to do have the stuff you’re doing now.”

“Thanks you two” The Prophet’s voice cracked with emotion. “That... that really means a lot to me.”

[cryingcow]

Rikiya, Kiryu, & Haruka - Rikiya’s Lonely Struggle [RGGO]

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 .

This month’s RGG Online dice event features Rikiya! I was in a Y3 mood lately so I went and did this first :D

Apparently they’re called Sugoroku events. This one is 6 chapters long, including the prologue and epilogue, so I’ll be splitting it into 3 parts. Enjoy the sight of Rikiya in the Dragon Engine now since Yakuza Kiwami 3 might not be coming for a long time :’(

This story feels like a subtle way to attract tourists to Okinawa, what with the food specialties, the lessons in Okinawan slang (that I skipped over in here), and this banner:

Just look at that winning Dad smile! Don’t you wish you were in Okinawa right now?

Click on for the Prologue, Chapter 1 + Rikiya’s Side Comments!

.

Rikiya’s Side Comments

During the course of rolling around the board, Rikiya comments on various stuff and people.

Rikiya’s comments on objects:

Habu (Pit Viper) – “The venom of habus isn’t that strong, but they fight without fear of what kind of opponent they’re up against. How cool is that?”

Ryukyu City – “Isn’t it such a lively city? All the people here are nice. That’s why it’s my job to protect it.”

Jewel? [in-game item] – “Is this a jewel that I thought I saw fall? Haa~, it’s color is like that of the sea. It’s a waste to sell it off.”

Great dice [in-game item] – “Hey this is amazing! The same number of eyes appear no matter how many times you shake it. Hehe, let’s trick Mikio with this.”

Rikiya’s comments on people:

Patriarch Nakahara – “He’s stubborn, old-fashioned, and strange. But when he makes up his mind to do something, he does it. That’s my boss.”

Mikio – “I want to keep them smiling. I’m going to protect this group with him, so I’m going to be firm.”

Young Lady (Saki) – “She’s not good at speaking, but well, I’m not good at studying, it’s the same thing. Everyone knows how good the young lady is.”

Kiryu-no-aniki – “To think there’s a person out there like my patriarch . . . the world really is big!”

Haruka-chan – “She’s a small but firm child. There’s a lot of things going on. I want to help you keep them away.”

Ayako – “She’s a smart girl, so I don’t have to worry about her. Do you want company in your running practice?”

Koji – “He’s bright, gentle, and he exercises. Isn’t he popular in school? That’s good . . .”

Taichi – “Jeez, just because you like professional wrestling doesn’t mean I’m a lariat! I thought I was going to die . . .”

Mitsuo – “The one who knows pain can understand the pain of others. You’re already a good man.”

Riona – “Hehe, getting along with Mitsuo? It seems that Mitsuo will be laid out on his butt in another 10 years. That hurts! Don’t hit me!”

Shiro – “A great guy who can study with me. All you need is a handful of courage. Please support Morning Glory.”

Izumi – “I really like Mame. Take care of yourself when going on walks. Don’t forget to do your homework properly~?”

Eri – “I want to say that the house looks great, but that’s an adult’s excuse. One day, you’ll realize yourself.”

.

----

.

PROLOGUE

.

[Morning Glory Orphanage]

Haruka: “So you’ve never tried eating it yet, Ojiisan?”

Kiryu: “Yeah. I see it in the supermarket often, but I usually just pick up a familiar fish.”

Rikiya: “Nice to see you! Aniki and Haruka-chan!”

Kiryu: “Oh, Rikiya.”

Rikiya: “What were you two talking about?”

Haruka: “Rikiya-san, have you ever eaten a fish called ‘Gurukun’?”

Rikiya: “Of course I have! Gurukun is a fish that represents Okinawa! It’s also called ‘Takasago’ in the mainland, right?”

Kiryu: “That’s correct, but it’s not that famous in the mainland. I’ve never tried it out yet.”

Rikiya: “You’re kidding?! You can’t live in Okinawa without eating gurukun! Alright, how about the three of us head to the public market right now! There’s lots of fresh fish there!”

Kiryu: “We’re going to the market now?”

Rikiya: “Yes! I’ll be your guide!”

Kiryu: “I’m sorry. Haruka and I have something to do after this . . .”

Rikiya: “Something to do . . . then I’ll go run down to the market myself and buy you that gurukun!”

Kiryu: “Would that be alright? Sorry.”

Rikiya: “We can go to the market together next time when you have the time. More than the fish, I want Aniki to experience the kindness of the people in the market.”

Kiryu: “The kindness of the people in the market?”

Rikiya: “Yeah. Do the people at the market look scary at first glance?”

Kiryu: “Apart from the shops for tourists, there certainly is a cold atmosphere at first glance. Especially towards strangers like me.”

Rikiya: “They’re just workers who are bad at meeting new people. But actually everyone is kind, be they mainland people or Okinawa people!”

Kiryu: “Is that so. In that case, I’ll be looking forward to going to the market with you as my guide.”

Rikiya: “Well then, I’m going to run now!”

----

[Public Market]

Fish Seller A: “Hey, welcome~!”

Rikiya: “Hey!”

Fish Seller A: “Oh, Rikiya. What is it?”

Rikiya: “Do you have gurukun? I want a very fresh one.”

Fish Seller A: “Oh, we have just the right one! But it’s unusual for you to be cooking.”

Rikiya: “It’s not for me. I want to feed everyone at Morning Glory.”

Fish Seller A: “Morning Glory . . . ?”

Rikiya: “It’s an orphanage by the beach. My Aniki Kiryu-san is the caretaker.”

Fish Seller A: “Kiryu . . .”

Rikiya: “Give me all that gurukun you have. How much will it be?”

Fish Seller A: “Oh, uh, I just remembered that these gurukun have been reserved for another customer! Go hit up the other stalls!”

Rikiya: “What . . . Jeez. Whatever, I’ll try another store!”

----

Rikiya: “Oh! How are you doing?”

Fish Seller B: “Oh, Riki-chan.”

Rikiya: “Oh, you have gurukun. It’s not reserved for anyone, is it?”

Fish Seller B: “Yeah, they’re all for sale.”

Rikiya: “Alright! Now I can feed Kiryu-no-aniki!”

Fish Seller B: “Kiryu-no-aniki . . . ?!”

Rikiya: “Oh, do you know him? Kiryu Kazuma. He’s my Aniki!”

Fish Seller B: “Go home!”

Rikiya: “Eh?”

Fish Seller B: “The store is closed today! Go away!”

Rikiya: “Wh-What the hell . . . ?! Just like with the previous store, his attitude completely changed when I mentioned Kiryu-no-aniki’s name . . . ??”

Woman Passing By: “Just now, did you just say Kiryu . . . ?”

Rikiya: “Yeah. Do you know him Ma’am?”

Woman Passing By: “I overheard from someone in the market . . . that Kiryu Kazuma is trying to take over the place . . .”

Rikiya: “Aniki taking over the market?? What does that even mean??”

Woman Passing By: “I don’t know all the details, but that’s the rumor everyone’s been gossiping about. Look . . .”

{The woman points at two vendors talking.}

Meat Vendor: “Isn’t the Ryudo Family the enforcers of the market? Even if Kiryu attacks, the Ryudo Family will protect us, right?”

Greengrocer: “Idiot, the Ryudo Family can’t beat Kiryu. There’s a Tsukiji Market in Tokyo, and rumor has it Kiryu took over Tsukiji overnight.”

Meat Vendor: “Really! Then a small market like ours . . .”

Greengrocer: “Yeah, we’ll be taken over in one hour, tops. By Kiryu alone.”

Meat Vendor: “If that happens, I’ll stab Kiryu! When I see him next time, I’ll use this butcher knife, no questions asked . . . !”

Greengrocer: “Lay off. The guy who opposed Kiryu at Tsukiji was rumored to have been sold as cheap minced meat.”

Meat Vendor: “What a horrible bastard . . . ! The mainlanders are truly dreadful!”

Woman Passing By: “For the past week, the market’s been plagued by this rumor.”

Rikiya: “My Aniki taking over the public market?? Who’s been spreading these rumors?!”

Woman Passing By: “Well, there’s no smoke without fire.”

Rikiya: “Eh? What do you mean?”

Woman Passing By: “No, it’s nothing. Please excuse me . . .”

Rikiya: “What? That woman . . . ?”

{Rikiya’s phone rings. He answers.}

Rikiya: “Ah, Aniki! What is it?”

Kiryu: “My errand with Haruka ended earlier than expected. I’m heading to the market right now.”

Rikiya: “Ah, no, no! Don’t come here Aniki!”

Kiryu: “Why?”

Rikiya: “Well, the . . . the gurukan is sold out!”

Kiryu: “Is that so. Well we can walk around the market. I want to see this kindness of the people with you as my guide.”

Rikiya: “Sorry! I’ve left the market, I’m on my way back home to Morning Glory! Let’s just go to the market together some other day!”

Kiryu: “I see. I guess we’ll save the fun for next time . . . be careful in going home.”

{Kiryu hangs up.}

Rikiya: “My bad! This is dangerous . . . Aniki, looking forward to interacting with the people in the market . . . I was the one who made him expect it in the first place . . . I can’t say ‘the market is full of bad rumors about Aniki’. What do I do . . . ? Can I convince the people otherwise one by one? That’ll take a long time . . . But why did weird rumors pop up? I guess because my Aniki is a mainlander . . .”

Rikiya: “For the time being, I should head back to Morning Glory. My Aniki will be suspicious if I’m late . . .”

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 1

.

[Morning Glory Orphanage]

Rikiya: (In the end, a week passed without me taking any measures against the rumors about Aniki spreading through the market . . . Well, it’s better to wait for the rumors to disappear on their own than panic. As the saying goes, ‘people’s rumors last 75 days’ . . . Hm? How many months is 75 days? That’s long . . .)

Haruka: “Rikiya-san, it’s a shame the gurukan was sold out last time.”

Rikiya: “Well, that’s how delicious the fish is!”

Haruka: “I’m looking forward to the day I can eat it! Now more than ever I’m interested in Okinawan food. Rikiya-san, do you know Soki?”

Rikiya: “Of course. It’s an Okinawan specialty made of stewed pork and bones. It’s delicious!”

Haruka: “The soki that Ojiisan ate a year ago was very delicious. I was going to buy Ojiisan’s soki today, but I wanted to go with you.”

Rikiya: “Oh, that’s good. Where’s this store? I want to know what soki Aniki is beating his drum for.”

Kiryu: “It’s in the market.”

Rikiya: “Ah, Aniki. I understand. It’s in the . . .”

Rikiya: “Th-The market?!”

Kiryu: “It would be nice to explore the market under your guidance. Interacting with the people in the market . . .”

Rikiya: “N-No! Two people shouldn’t go to the market together!”

Kiryu: “Why?”

Rikiya: “Why . . . that’s . . . ! It’s really hot out today! If a person from the mainland goes outside on a day like this, they’d get a heatstroke in seconds! So I’ll be the one to buy soki for the two of you, just wait! Hey Haruka-chan, lend me that shopping bag!”

{Rikiya takes the shopping bag out of Haruka’s hands and runs off.}

Kiryu: “What a strange guy . . .”

----

[Public Market]

Rikiya: “This is bad. It’s only a matter of time before Aniki and Haruka-chan come to the market . . . For now, let’s listen in to the conversations of the people of the market to see the current state of the rumors.”

{Rikiya casually eavesdrops on everyone.}

Rikiya: “Unexpectedly, the rumors seem to have died down . . .”

Greengrocer: “The story that Kiryu is taking over the market alone was just that. Apparently it wasn’t a real story.”

Meat Vendor: “That’s true. If you think about it with a calm head, it’s impossible, taking over the market alone.”

Greengrocer: “Right. Apparently Kiryu is taking over markets with his friends.”

Meat Vendor: “With friends . . . ?! Who?”

Greengrocer: “The young captain of the Ryudo Family . . . Rikiya.”

Meat Vendor: “Ah! Yeah, that guy’s always hanging out with Kiryu these days!”

Greengrocer: “Right? Rikiya’s been completely brainwashed by Kiryu.”

Meat Vendor: “Then that means Kiryu and Rikiya will strike soon?!”

Greengrocer: “Yeah, no mistake . . .”

Rikiya: “Oi! Knock it off!”

Greengrocer: “Ri-Rikiya! Are you making your attack already?!”

Rikiya: “You idiots. Aniki brainwashing me? Taking over the market? He’ll never do that! It’s all a hoax!”

Greengrocer: “But before, you loved Okinawa more than anyone else, and would never even think about wagging your tail for a mainlander! And calling Kiryu your aniki, that’s clearly brainwashing!”

Rikiya: “You’re wrong! I just fell in love with my Aniki’s honourable spirit! Kiryu-no-aniki is a real man among men!”

Greengrocer: “Look, Rikiya’s eyes . . . ! They’re the same as the eyes of my cousin who got pulled into a new religion!”

Meat Vendor: “This guy’s already been brainwashed . . . ! He’s going to attack with Kiryu soon!”

Greengrocer: “I’ll be out of business, and Kiryu will suck on my bones!”

Rikiya: “Don’t be scared, you guys. I know Kiryu-no-aniki has a fearsome appearance . . . “

Meat Vendor: “Hey! Look over there!”

Greengrocer: “Ki-Ki-Kiryu . . .”

Haruka: “The market is really lively, Ojiisan.”

Kiryu: “Yeah . . .”

Haruka: “But is it really that good?”

Kiryu: “You should look forward to it. You can even suck on all the bones . . .”

Rikiya: “Wait, Aniki! What are you doing here!”

Kiryu: “Because you came here all alone . . .”

{People are screaming around the market.}

Meat Vendor: “Hurry up and run away everyone! Or you’ll be killed!”

Haruka: “What’s going on? Why is everyone in the market running away somewhere?”

Kiryu: “Did something happen?”

Rikiya: “This is, uh . . . a disaster drill!”

Kiryu: “Disaster prevention training?”

Rikiya: “Yes. Practicing to avoid getting killed by disaster . . . that’s why you can’t shop today!”

Kiryu: “Well, that’s a shame. I wanted to eat the ‘cartilage soki’ I had eaten here before.”

Rikiya: “Cartilage soki . . .”

Kiryu: “It was stewed so well, you can even eat the bones. It was excellent.”

Rikiya: “Then when the drill is over, I’ll buy some and bring it home, so please go now Aniki.”

Kiryu: “Oh. I don’t want to get in the way of the drill. Let’s go home, Haruka.”

Haruka: “Yup. See you, Rikiya-san.”

{Kiryu and Haruka leaves.}

Rikiya: “Phew . . . that was dangerous . . .”

Greengrocer: “What? Is that bastard Kiryu leaving? Did he just come here for reconnaissance, only to come back at a later date . . .”

Rikiya: “So, now you know it’s a hoax.”

Greengrocer: “No, I heard it! Kiryu said he came to the market to ‘suck all the bones’!”

Rikiya: “No, Aniki was talking about soki . . .”

Greengrocer: “Don’t tell such a transparent lie!”

Hooligan A: “Oi, you, where’s Kiryu?”

Rikiya: “What? These bastards . . .”

Hooligan B: “We’re bouncers. We were hired to protect this market from Kiryu.”

Rikiya: “Hired by who?”

Hooligan A: “I don’t think that has anything to do with you. Is Kiryu coming or not? Where is he?”

Greengrocer: “He just left the market.”

Hooligan A: “Alright, I’ll chase after him!”

Rikiya: “Wait, my Aniki isn’t taking over the market!”

Hooligan A: “Hey I remember, you’re Rikiya, the one who’s been brainwashed by Kiryu! I don’t believe a word you’re saying! Get out of here!”

Rikiya: “If you’re really going to chase after Aniki, you can do so only if you beat me.”

Hooligan B: “Hmph, this kid is crazy! But this is Kiryu’s friend! Do it!”

{Rikiya kicks the crap out of the hooligans.}

Rikiya: “Tell me before I hit you again, where and when were you hired as bouncers?”

Hooligan A: “The market’s . . . Youth Club . . .”

Rikiya: “Youth Club?”

Greengrocer: “It’s a union of young people working together in the market. Although they’re rough, they’re more enthusiastic about the market than anyone.”

Meat Vendor: “Yes, yes. The Youth Club members knew about Kiryu’s invasion before anyone else.”

Rikiya: “Wait, so the source of the rumor is that Youth Club?”

Meat Vendor: “Well, I don’t remember much, but I don’t think the Youth Club started it . . .”

Rikiya: (If the Youth Club is spreading rumors, what for . . . ? Do I want to get in now and find the truth? No. First I have to buy cartilage soki for my Aniki and go home. If I linger too much, he’ll come back to the market again . . .)

.

-END-

.

As an addition:

Look at the new Kiryu card, living his best life in Okinawa with his orphans T^T

.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 Masterlist

[banditthewriter]

Trust Is Earned - Charles Vane - 1

For someone who is taking a break from writing, I sure wrote a lot in a short time frame.

This is a 34.4k word fic broken into 10 parts. It is what I consider to be a “fuck canon” kinda fic so there’s that to enjoy. 

Warning: Slow burn. I’m sorry.

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

*****

One of the largest draws of Nassau was the freedom. There was still poverty and strife, people who fought every day to survive, but the freedom was something that couldn’t be ignored. Women free of societal views that required them to be the property of either their father or their husband. Men free of the shackles of polite society, free to sail the seas and create chaos. 

Freedom did come with a price though. The pirates ruled the seas and demanded respect with a fist of violence, but that was nothing compared to the rule of the Guthries. They ruled the island with their commerce, able to make and break not only the pirate crews but also the merchants on the island. 

For you, freedom was many things. Your store, though small and off the beaten track, was lucrative and gave to you a life of comfort if not leisure. Your parents were gone but their love still resided in you. They had left behind a gaggle of friends that loved and protected you as you asserted your independence. 

Freedom was also the choice of who you took to bed. There had been a few men over the years, but none you considered special. The closest to a meaningful relationship you got was the continued dalliance with one of the pirates from The Walrus, the boatswain Billy Bones. 

The sex was more than enough to please you, but the man was simply easy to spend time with. The two of you laughed and talked about a myriad of things. He was a learned man and the two of you had plenty in common.

It wasn’t love though. That was one thing you weren’t sure you would find in Nassau, but that didn’t stop you from hoping. 

You wanted connection, intimacy, passion. You wanted a commitment, a love that consumed and freed you. As much as you enjoyed Billy’s presence, he wasn’t that for you.

If you never had a love like your parents had, at least you had your store. Affectionately called the General, it was a place where most of the people on the island started their search for things. If you didn’t carry it, you had the means to find it for them. For a price, of course.

Plus you made the best candles on the island. You were sure that not one ship left the bay without candles from the General.

The life you had in Nassau was a good one, a comfortable one. If only you’d known that that was all about to change.

------

There was a man and women in the store, both of them speaking low as they looked over the shelves against the far wall. Normally you wouldn’t have paid them any mind, but you had seen the look on their faces when they first walked in.

Good things rarely followed Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny when they looked like that.

You focused on the pages in hand, orders from various people on the island. You needed to find more mouse traps for the madam of the brothel, Mrs. Mapleton. One of the cooks from one of the ships needed better utensils. The butcher needed—

“Y/N. We have our order ready.”

You put the papers down and held a hand out to accept the piece of paper that was in Rackham’s hand. He held onto it for a long beat while staring at you before he released it. He turned his body towards Anne who was purposefully cleaning her nails with a long knife from her boot.

“Let’s see what I can do for you,” you said as you looked over the order. “Most of this is here in the store, but there are a few items I’ll need to get for you.”

As you gathered the items that you had on hand, you tried to ignore the two of them. Candles of various sizes, an inkwell with an extra pot of ink, a few quills, a thing of chalk, charcoal, paper… 

Every item you grabbed from your shelves or cabinets and placed into the canvas bag for the two of them, some wrapped to keep from being damaged. Some butcher paper was packed into the bag for extra security.

As you went about marking the items you still needed to get for them, you noticed that they had approached you once more.

“Is there something else I can help you with Mr. Rackham?” you asked in a polite voice as you scribbled a few notes regarding price, adding up how much you’d need to charge The Ranger crew.

“Oh, nothing in particular. Although now that you mention it,” he said as he tapped his fingers on the counter that separated the two of you, “I believe I heard through the grapevine that you were together with the boatswain of The Walrus.”

“Is that what you’ve heard? How intriguing.” You tore off the half of the page with the amount due and handed it over. “Here’s what’s owed. As always you just pay for what’s being taken today..”

He narrowed his eyes at you before he accepted the paper. You watched as he handed it to Anne Bonny who tugged out a pouch with some coin in it.

“Should I take you avoiding the question as an affirmative?” 

You glanced away from Anne and back over to Jack at that. As you were one of the best stores in Nassau and The Ranger was one of the biggest crews, definitely one of the best crews, you had dealt with the quartermaster and his quiet companion often enough. In your time dealing with them, however, you’d never been interrogated before. Your conversations were usually limited to the sale and maybe some idle chit chat.

This was a change you weren’t sure you appreciated.

“There wasn’t a question posed to me. You simply reiterated something that had been observed. However if it had been a question,” you amended because you didn’t want to piss these two off, “I would tell you that no, we’re not together. We simply enjoy each other’s company.”

“Is that right?” He cast a glance at Anne and gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

The woman handed over the correct amount of coin as well as a tip which wasn’t required but definitely helped. You thanked them both as you pushed the bag towards them.

With the bundle in his arms, the two left your store without another word. You weighed the coin in hand before you put it in the hidden compartment where you stored the rest. 

It was a strange interaction with the pirate pair, but you shook it off. There were more important things to focus on. Like a stack of orders you needed to work on.

------

With the door to the store locked, you headed to the hidden door that led to your rooms. It was made to look like part of the wall so no one knew where it was. You had just touched the handle when what sounded like an entire army began banging on the door to the shop.

At this hour it probably wasn’t an irate shopper or townsfolk. This had to be an emergency. That in mind, you made your way over to the door and pressed your ear to it.

“Y/N? Open the door. It’s me, Billy.”

This was highly unusual, but it was Billy. You trusted him.

You undid the locks and lifted the wooden slat that barred the door. Then you quickly opened it. Billy rushed in with someone behind him, a shorter man with curly black hair. He gave a charming smile that seemed at odds with the look of concern on Billy’s face.

The two of them shut and locked the door and then went about herding you towards the back room. Billy then opened the hidden door that led to your rooms, earning an interesting look from the other man.

“Do I want to know what’s going on? Or who this is?”

The man turned to offer you his hand, that charming smile back on his lips.

“I’m John Silver, a newly acquired… cook on The Walrus.”

You looked between John Silver and Billy who kept shooting glances at the door that led to the shop as if it was going to blow open at any second.

“I don’t have any cookbooks on hand if that’s your reason for coming by after I’ve already closed up shop, but I can find some. Other than that, I think I better demand an explanation.”

Billy came forward, his hands raised as if he was trying to calm down an enraged wild animal.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” he began, flinching when you crossed your arms over your chest. “The Ranger crew was getting ready to set sail and uh, it seems they aren’t able to at the moment. Things got a little heated on the beach and we thought it’d be a good idea to find somewhere to lie low until the heat died down.”

You let that sit for a moment as you looked between the two of them. Besides the fact that John Silver didn’t look like he’d spent a second cooking in his life, Billy looked much like he had the first time you’d caught him with one of the whores in the brothel.

You explained that you didn’t mind, preferred it really. While you cared for Billy, you knew that you’d never fall in love with him. You didn’t particularly want to fall in love with a pirate. Since then both of you were comfortable enough to find companionship where it came without guilt.

It worked for the two of you. But that first time he’d looked so guilty.

Just as he did now.

“Bullshit. Now I’ll say this again just in case you didn’t hear me the first time. I demand a fucking explanation.”

Billy winced again.

“Y/N–” but you didn’t let him get out whatever pitiful excuse he had prepared.

“You’re a pirate, Billy Bones, and I’ve never known you to run from a fight. If things were heated on the beach, you wouldn’t be up here hiding. You’d be down there with a sword in hand and your brothers at your back. So whatever is going on, I want to know right now, or you and your cook can go fuck yourselves and leave.”

You watched as Silver opened his mouth, obviously about to tell Billy that they should leave, but you knew that that wouldn’t be happening. Billy had brought the two of them to you for a reason. He might be stubborn—he was a pirate after all—but he was far from stupid.

And he knew that you were right.

“It’s a map,” he said over Silver’s objections, “a map that they had that leads to some potentially big prizes. Silver stole it.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before you looked at the other man.

“You stole… a treasure map… from a pirate? Not just any pirate, but Captain Vane?” You let out a little laugh and then looked over at Billy. “Where did you find this one? The bottom of the ocean?”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Silver tried to explain as a way to divert attention from his folly. “I am currently in possession of something that The Ranger crew desperately want to get back. My plan is to… give it to Captain Flint but he’s not here. Therefore we’re not as protected as I originally thought we’d be.”

The way he said that he was going to give the map to Flint made you think that had originally not been his plan. If the map was for some large prizes, it was likely he had originally meant to sell it to the highest bidder. 

Maybe he was a pirate after all.

“And so you thought to bring him to me. Did you think I could hide him under the pit where I make the candles?” 

“We just need to keep our heads down until Flint is back from the interior. It should be tomorrow sometime.”

As you started to say that they could stay there, you remembered something from earlier that morning. At the time Jack Rackham’s questions had seemed harmless if a little strange. Now you had to wonder if there had been a reason to them after all.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. This morning I had some of The Ranger crew in here for an order. An order that came with the extra benefit of questions regarding my relationship with the boatswain of The Walrus.”

While Billy usually tried to be civil and polite around you, he didn’t seem to have that issue just then. 

“Fuck. Fucking… fuck.”

“Eloquent,” Silver remarked and then nodded when Billy gave him a glare. “I know that this is my fault, but I think you’re forgetting how important this map could be. And that Captain Vane and the rest of The Ranger crew would gladly cut off our heads to get it back.”

You rubbed your temples, urging back the headache that started to grow there. The day had started with such promise and had only gone downhill. 

“There’s a door in the back that leads to the woods. If you walk about ten minutes you’ll come to a split where you can either go back to town or to the interior. You’ll need to find a different place to hide.”

Silver shook his head.

“The door to this part of the building was hidden. We could stay here.”

You fixed Silver with a glare that made him step back.

“This store is my livelihood. If the pirates even suspect that you might be here, they’ll tear this building down to the very last nail. I won’t have that happen over your stupid decision, do you understand me? If you are in this building when The Ranger crew gets here, I’ll happily direct them to the very crevice you’ve hidden yourself in.”

You turned to Billy, still fuming over the turn of events.

“I’m sorry Billy. You know in other circumstances I’d do anything to help you, but this isn’t something I’m willing to risk. Not for you, not for some man I’ve never met. I can’t be part of that.”

Billy nodded that he understood. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder to calm you down. 

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that. We’ll take the passage out and head back to the beach. If the crew comes, just tell them we were headed to the interior to look for a Mr. Blackwell. That’ll get them off your case.”

You peered up at him cautiously.

“Is there a Mr. Blackwell in the interior?” You didn’t want to send a bunch of angry pirates after an innocent man.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he admitted with a grin. 

He leaned in to kiss your forehead. When he pulled back, he grabbed Silver’s shoulder and yanked him in the direction of the back door you had told him about.

Once the door was shut and you were left alone once more, you took a deep breath. If the questioning was due to the map, you wanted to be prepared. If Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny came back to your store, you were going to be prepared for them.

After this, Billy would have a lot to make up for.

------

The sun had barely started to rise in the sky when the pounding began. You looked up from where you had been preparing tea. It sounded like the door of the shop was going to cave in any moment and you wouldn’t stand for that. You slipped into the shop and shut the hidden door quietly. You made sure everything was in position before you went to the door to let in whoever was out there.

It turned out to be Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny, as you had assumed, but they weren’t alone. In front of them was a man you’d never formally been introduced to, but everyone in Nassau knew who Captain Charles Vane was.

And as he stormed past you and into the shop, you were impressed that for once the stories seemed to be true. He was silent as he directed the other two to start to search your shop, a passiveness on his face that you were sure was faked.

As the other two pirates made their way around the shop, you simply folded your arms over your chest.

“Are you going to tell me what this is about or am I to guess?”

The captain didn’t even glance in your direction but Rackham did.

“Surely you don’t think playing dumb will help you. You admitted to me that you were close to Billy Bones, he stole something from our crew, ergo…” With that he ducked into the backroom to search for Billy, a sword drawn.

“Billy Bones is twelve feet tall, where do you think I’ve hidden him? He wouldn’t exactly fit in the cabinet.”

This time it was Bonny that spoke. 

“You live here, don’t ya? Maybe you have him stashed in your bed.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I won’t qualify that with a response.” You looked past the redhead and over at the captain who was still ignoring your presence. Or pretending to at least. “If Billy had come by here, what makes you think I would’ve let him stay?”

“You’d turn away someone you’re bedding in their time of need?” That was called to you from your own backroom. Jack’s voice was muffled, but still clear enough to be heard.

“If I sheltered every man that I’ve fucked when he’s pissed off some pirate crew or other, I’d be running a halfway house. This is my place of business and as I am supposed to be a neutral entity, yes, I would’ve turned him away.”

That drew the captain’s attention. He stared at you for a long moment before he spoke.

“Jack.” It was just one word but the tone made you stand up a little straighter. 

That wasn’t him calling Jack back into the room. That was him letting Jack off the leash.

Suddenly a loud crash came from the backroom. It was followed by more. It took only seconds to realize what was happening. 

He was destroying your merchandise.

“You fucking bastard,” you yelled as you tried to launch yourself in that direction but an arm around your middle stilled you. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see the brown hair that hung nearby telling you that the culprit was the captain rather than Bonny. You had half a mind to try to land a fist in his face but you figured they wouldn’t be inclined to let you go if you did that.

“Billy, the cook, and my map. Tell us where they are and this stops.”

Now it was Bonny’s turn to start wrecking your shop. While Rackham wreaked havoc on your backroom, Bonny tore reams of paper and broke quills.

“Make them stop and I’ll tell you, but damaging my store won’t exactly make me inclined to tell you the truth otherwise.”

The arm around your middle squeezed as if in warning before he barked out an order for the two of them to stop. You waited for Rackham to join the rest of you before you tried to pull away from the captain. He didn’t seem inclined to let you go just yet so you stopped fighting it and just slumped a bit.

“There’s a path around the back of the shop. Ten minute walk and you’ll see a sign that points towards the interior. They said they were going to a Mr. Blackwell for help.” You said the name as if you were remembering it rather than just relaying it in hopes that it would help your act. “They left just after dark last night so you might want to hurry.”

A knife was swung out and pointed at your throat, courtesy of Anne Bonny. She pressed it tight enough that it probably drew blood.

“Why should we trust you? You could be lying to us.”

Of course you were but you weren’t about to tell her that.

“What part of neutral entity do you not understand? I sell to everyone on this island so having favorites wouldn’t get me anywhere, would it?”

You finally were able to pull out of the captain’s grasp. You marched towards the backroom and scowled at the mess. Then you went around to your counter where you pretended to look over the damage that Bonny had caused.

“If you are lying to us, we’ll be back,” the captain promised in a deep voice that told you this would just be the beginning.

You shrugged a shoulder as you grabbed the pistol you’d left under the counter. You raised it level at the three of them. You might only have one shot, but you’d make it count. Rackham reached for his sword but Vane shook his head and stopped him.

“I’ve given you the information you need, now get the fuck out of my shop so that I can try to repair the damage that’s been done.”

Vane jerked his head towards the front door that they had stormed through. As the three of them slipped out into the morning air, aimed for the back of the store so that they could try to hunt down Billy and Silver, you watched as Vane looked over his shoulder at you for a long moment before he shut the door behind him.

Once you were sure that the three of them had gone, you slumped against the wall and put the pistol on a shelf. 

“Really hope that map is worth it Billy,” you mumbled to yourself.

Then you went about fixing your shop.

X

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[babbushka]

Okay this isnt a FLUFF prompt but! What would happen if Flip was undercover and saw his wife? Like sees you while with a member of the organization? Like of course he NEVER ever would consider involving you but like??? Ahh idk what would happen

(I took this in a bit of a different direction to make it fluffy lol, I hope you don’t mind!)

Flip and Jimmy are sitting in the Nova out on a stakeout set up across from a bar that Ron is at, when they spot you. He’d gone in for some intel, but so far nothing was proving to be too interesting, too exciting. Nothing but some light chatter and some dancing, that was all. Flip couldn’t wait to come home to you, to stretch his bones in a hot shower with you, to sit at the table for a late dinner with you.

In fact, he’s thinking about you so much that he thinks he hallucinates you for a second, thinks he sees a flash of your favorite heels. But it’s almost eight o’clock at night, and you don’t like going out alone at night, and you didn’t really have any reason to be out, so he chalks it up to his over-active imagination.

Until, that is, Jimmy points you out, and he realizes you’re real.

“Oh fuck,” Jimmy says, elbowing Flip gently to get his attention, “Two o’clock.”

“You stay here, I’ll be right back.” Flip says immediately, a surge of protective possession shocking through him. His heart beats a little faster at the sight of you, your real self carrying a package that’s almost too big for your arms in the light of the streetlamps.

“Flip you sure that’s a good idea?” Jimmy asks as Flip unbuckles his seatbelt, unlocks his car door.

“This was a dud anyway.” Flip nods, not caring about anything else other than making his way to you. “I’ll be right back.”

You’re walking towards him, heading the opposite direction he is on the sidewalk. You squint at him in the dark, trying to make out the shape of him. You’d recognize your husband anywhere, any time of day, but you’re confused to see him here – hadn’t he said he’d be going downtown tonight?

“Hey little lady,” Flip steps in your path, in the full light of the neon signs that hang in a nearby shop’s window. He doesn’t smile, mostly because he’s worried about you, concerned about you, even though he keeps his tone playful and light, “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

“Honey!” You breathe a sigh of relief, handing him the big package you’d been carrying. Fuck it’s heavy, Flip thinks – or maybe he says it out loud, because you’re grinning with bright eyes, “I picked up a special order at the deli, went to go pick it up. It was supposed to be a surprise dinner for when you came back home.”

That makes his heart warm, and he shuffles the package over to his one side so he can tuck you against the other, walking with you on the sidewalk. 

The streets are busy tonight, everyone out and about for a Friday evening on the town. All the shops are bustling, people coming and going, but your heels click on the cement in a rhythm that Flip hears above all the soft noise.

“Did you schlep this all the way over here?” He asks, thinking about how the deli was a block away from where you were now, how it was a good couple miles from home.

“It’s so busy the closest spot I could find was a smidge down this way.” You point across the street where the lights turn red and the little man on the sign flashes signaling the crowd to fill the cross-walk, “Can you walk with me? Or will Jimmy be annoyed?”

“Oh let him be annoyed, I’ll always walk with my girl.” Flip hugs you close close close to his side and you beam up at him, pleased that your handsome husband will stay with you for a tiny bit, a surprise all its own.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the steakout would be right here.” You admit, knowing how Flip doesn’t like you anywhere near any of the cases he gets assigned. 

There’s too much danger, he says, and he’s right, you know he’s right. You just couldn’t miss the opportunity for such a beautiful top round roast, and when the butcher had called saying the shipment just came in for tomorrow morning, and he had a perfect one just for you, well, you had put on your heels and hit the town not caring at all how late it had already gotten.

Still though, Flip’s arm around your waist is protective, and you can feel the way he hides your body into his, making sure nothing bad could ever happen to you.

“See anything interesting?” You ask, a prompt to get him talking.

He smiles at you, smacks a big kiss to your cheek that has you smiling back.

“Yeah, I’m lookin’ at her.” He’s such a charmer, and you roll your eyes fondly, bump his hip sweetly with yours as you approach the car.

You shimmy out of his embrace for a second to open and unlock the door, but he smacks at your hand playfully and does it for you, gives you a hand to brace yourself on as you settle into the driver’s seat.

“You’re sweet to me.” You grin, reaching for the roast, which he happily gives you.

“Says the woman makin’ me surprise dinners. Since the jig is up, can I see what you’re cooking?” Flip asks, hopeful, his stomach growling. You only laugh and shake your head, unwilling to ruin more of the surprise. He snaps his fingers with a, “Damn. Well in that case, do you think I could at least get a kiss?”

He smokes his cigarette all the way back to the car, where Jimmy waits for him with an eyebrow raised. And although he doesn’t say anything about the red prints smudged across Flip’s mouth, he can’t deny that that was the most fun thing they’d seen all evening. 

[mordoriscalling]

48 Weeks (4/4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Throughout the 48 weeks that Geralt and Jaskier spend apart, their relationship develops.

Aka, part 3 of the Singer and the Sailor AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. The events of this story happen after Stay or Sail Away but before Homecoming.

Weeks 37-48

Week 37

“I think I’m gonna write a book,” Jaskier announces.

“What about?”

“I’m not sure.”

Geralt snorts.

“I definitely have a story in me to tell,” Jaskier says defensively, “I can feel it. My music is about stories too, but I’m not ready to write a book yet.”

“When you think you’ll be ready?”

Jaskier smiles in a way that doesn’t bode well. “Maybe after my dear White Wolf tells me of all his sea adventures.”

Geralt does not like the implications of this. “No.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier whines, “You wound me! First you bewitch me body and soul, and now–”

“Don’t quote Pride and Prejudice at me, it’s not working.”

Jaskier pouts. “At least one little story? Pretty please?”

Geralt sighs. He still hasn’t learned to deny Jaskier anything.

Week 38

“I know this is a weird question but... is Eskel straight?”

Geralt feels a chill down to his very bones. “What?”

“I just... need this information. I don’t want to jinx it so I won’t say anything more for now.”

Geralt clenches his jaw. Eskel’s only two months older than him and in some ways, the two of them are all too similar. “He isn’t”, Geralt answers, “he’s mostly into women but there’re some men who catch his eye.”

Jaskier smiles like a cat that got all the cream. “That’s fantastic.”

Geralt grips the phone so hard his knuckle go white. “Indeed,” he grinds out.

Jakier’s face falls. “Geralt, what’s–”

“Have to go.”

He hangs up without another word and tries not to let this hurt him. He did see this coming. Yet, all the moments he and Jaskier shared, all the songs Jaskier sent him, everything of this is right there, painful like hell.

He misses home more than ever.

Week 39

“Geralt, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Geralt doesn’t want to. He didn’t reply to any of Jaskier’s frantic texts since the last video call. He only sent a message about when he would be able to talk this week and sure enough, Jaskier called at that time. Geralt wishes he didn’t. He wishes Jaskier just left already.

“Not bored of me yet?” he asks bitingly, all the bitterness of the past week coming up to the surface again.

Jaskier blinks. “I don’t understand.”

That angers Geralt even more. It’s not that hard to understand that he’s fucking hurt. “Stop fucking playing with me,” he growls, “Just say you want Eskel and leave me the fuck alone.”

“What.”

“You seemed happy to hear that he’s into guys,” Geralt answers, “so fuck off and go to him.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen. “Oh gods,” he says, then starts laughing.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Geralt spats, furious now. Rejection is bad enough but ridicule is so much worse than that.

Jaskier stops giggling abruptly. “Oh no. I hurt you.”

Geralt grits his teeth and doesn’t reply.

“I’m so, so sorry.” The look in Jaskier’s eyes seems sincere. “I asked about Eskel’s sexuality because I have a plan to set him up with my friend Essi. I was happy to hear that he’s mostly into women because Essi is most definitely a woman, and a wonderful one at that. I’m trying to talk them into a blind date because I’m just sure they’d hit it off.”

Geralt suddenly feels like an idiot.

“I didn’t want to give you that impression,” Jaskier goes on, “I apologize, dearest. Eskel’s great but I love you.”

Geralt finds he can’t say it back today; Jaskier is too good for him. Instead, he musters an apology. Jaskier accepts and slowly, the tension between them eases, but the hurt lingers for some time.

Week 40

“Lambert is such a prick.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I see the first meeting went well.”

Lambert returned from his deployment a few days ago. Jaskier met him and Aiden yesterday.

“Well enough, I suppose,” Jaskier replies, “We called each other names but that was the fun part.”

Geralt chuckles. Jaskier rambles on about what’s going on back at home: Ciri's doing good at her piano lessons, Yennefer still tolerates Jaskier, Eskel and Essi have agreed to go out together. As Geralt listens to the cheerful chatter, his chest tightens.

Christmas is in two days. Spending the holiday on the ship isn’t bad – their celebration is almost like home – but Geralt hasn’t seen his loved ones in nine months. Usually, he would be on his way home around this time. Nine months is how long his deployments typically last. When they’re longer than that, being away from home starts getting unbearable again.

The sea can’t soothe him today.

Week 41

It’s their last video call of the year and Geralt wants to come clean.

“My hair used to be dark brown, even darker than yours.”

“Geralt, you really don’t have to–”

“But then in went white in a matter of a few weeks.”

Jaskier says nothing for a while. He looks unsure but Geralt waits for him to ask. Finally, he does. “What? How?”

“Blaviken.”

“Blaviken?”

Geralt swallows hard. His hands start sweating but he makes himself go on. “That was the name of the ship. I was twenty-seven, only a lieutenant. There was a sub-lieutenant there, Renfri. She and I... we had an affair, but we broke it off before we got deployed. During the deployment, she... she wanted to take revenge on one of the officers in command who harassed her in the past. She had a few of the guys on the ship on her side. They... took one crew member hostage, demanding the officer’s immediate resignation.”

“Holy fuck,” Jaskier breathes out.

Geralt’s heart is hammering in his chest. He forces himself to continue. “I was ordered to reason with Renfri but I didn’t succeed. She told her guys to attack me. I defended myself and knocked them out. Then Renfri attacked me herself because I ruined her revenge, and I...” He takes a deep breath and takes in Jaskier’s face for what he knows is possibly the last time. After drinking his fill, he looks away and confesses, “I hurt her too. Really badly. She never fully recovered and left the Navy the moment she could. I faced trial, it was a miracle I didn’t get expelled. People started calling me a Butcher and I was so fucking...” He trails off because his eyes are starting to prickle. The cruel disillusionment of that time – when he realised he would never be a hero after what he’d done – hits him all over again. It haunts him, even now, just like the way Renfri’s body went limp in his arms.

When he can speak again, he only adds, “After everything, my hair went white.”

He can’t even glance at Jaskier. A mixture of self-hatred, shame and remorse rises up his throat like bile. He listens to the ringing silence, waiting for Jaskier to finally say that it’s over.

Jaskier’s words are quiet and sorrowful, “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

It’s such a shock that Geralt can only stare. Jaskier’s eyes are brimming with compassion, which he never got from anyone but his family. No one else cared what truly happened on Blaviken. He was reduced to the Butcher, hated and feared. His infamy followed him like a shadow and Geralt wanted to out-run it more than he ever wanted anything in his life. And so, he worked himself to the ground to prove himself, then to keep his job because Ciri came into his life.

Eventually, he got promoted to lieutenant commander, then to commander three years ago. From the Butcher he became the White Wolf, known not for how he had hurt people but for how he cared about crew safety, demanding complete adherence to the rules. He’s now feared for his strictness, and it’s said that he could even become a Royal Navy captain.

Yet, Geralt noticed that he'd started drifting away from his family, especially Ciri, he slowly understood that enough was enough. The sea is what Geralt knows and finds solace in, but he wouldn’t be where he is now without the support of his loved ones. He’s been choosing the sea over them for long enough. 

And now, somehow, Jaskier has become one of them. It’s irrational and too quick but Jaskier tells him he loves him even when he knows about Blaviken. Geralt decides he wants to keep him in his life indefinitely.

Week 42

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year,” Geralt replies, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s sure the year will be happy, with Jaskier there.

“I have a song for you,” Jaskier says, “to kick this year off with something good. It’s just... what I wish for us.”

“Something good” doesn’t begin to cover it. The song is slow and sensual, and it speaks of being in love. Of Jaskier being in love with him, loving and admiring him despite and because of knowing him well. Geralt listens to the song on repeat until he dreams of it, wishing that it was true.

He suspects that Jaskier has a wrong idea of him – an ideal which he won’t be able to live up to once he comes back. There’s a good chance that he’ll let Jaskier down and what they have won’t last.

And yet, he’s selfish and wants it to be real.

Week 43

Jaskier turns thirty-six today and Geralt has only one thing to say.

“I wish this too, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s smile is watery and beautiful. “Happy birthday to me, indeed.”

Week 44

“Ciri keeps talking about that boy –”

“What boy?”

“You know, the new one in her class? Dara?” Jaskier looks at him expectantly. After a moment, the name rings a bell. He nods and Jaskier goes on, “I think she likes him.”

Geralt freezes. “Likes him?”

“Well, not likes him likes him but... they’re attached at the hip already. It’s great to see her make a friend like that, you know.”

Geralt hums in understanding. Ciri is friendly but other children are a bit hard on her. Many teachers are fond of her and the kids are jealous, thinking that it’s because Ciri’s parents are of high status. Ciri did earn her position as the favourite but it is true that no teacher would want to get into the black boots of a high-ranking government official and a Royal Navy commander. Now, Jaskier entering Ciri’s life only added fuel to fire in this aspect.

Sometimes Geralt thinks he shouldn’t have fought Yennefer tooth and nail when she wanted to send Ciri to the poshest school they could afford at the time. Geralt didn’t want his daughter to grow up in that environment but Yennefer wanted her to receive a top-quality education. In the end, Ciri went to a state school with high educational standards, but when the problem with other kids’ treatment of her appeared a few years later, Geralt regretted his stubbornness.

At least Ciri has always taken it in stride. She’s even more stubborn than he was, refusing to let it get to her, and Geralt adores her for it. It’s a relief, though, that she’s finally made a close friend.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” he tells Jaskier.

“Honestly, Geralt, I’m honoured that you allow me to do it. Yennefer would never let me.”

Geralt chuckles. “She wouldn’t.”

“And yet, despite her clear disdain of me, I’m starting to like that witch-bitch.” Jaskier sighs dramatically. “Alas, it appears she’s actually admirable and has a good taste in everything. Especially men.”

Geralt rolls his eyes.

Week 45

“Essi and Eskel are now a couple!” Jaskier exclaims excitedly in lieu of greeting.

“That was... fast.”

“That’s because they’re a perfect match!” Jaskier boasts with a grin, “I knew exactly what I was doing, I’m one of the best matchmakers out there.”

“What does it make Lambert?” Geralt asks.

“What do you mean?”

“He did matchmake you. With me.”

Geralt can clearly see the moment the realisation hits Jaskier.

“God-fucking-dammit, I’ve been bested!” he laments, "By fucking Lambert!”

Geralt quickly regrets pointing that out. Jaskier refuses to shut up about it.

Week 46

It’s Geralt’s forty-first birthday. The crew sang him happy birthday to his utter disgust, at which the fuckers were delighted, and now it seems that yet another person wants to celebrate his existence.

“I have a gift for you, love,” Jaskier says with a smile.

He props the phone against what Geralt assumes to be the music rack. When Jaskier sits down, Geralt gets a great view of his face as he starts playing.

The slow piano melody entrances Geralt at once. After some time, Jaskier starts singing, his voice low and soothing. The song is full of gentle, loving, grand promises. Geralt’s breath is taken away as he watches Jaskier sway to the music with his eyes closed, basked in the afternoon sunlight, looking like a creature from another world.

All the songs Jaskier’s written for him speak of such a strong feeling that Geralt is afraid to reach for it when he returns. If it were to crash and burn, the disaster would be spectacular. All his previous relationships ended badly; he knows he should be cautious.

And yet, Jaskier lures him in. He’s bright and full of life, ridiculous and annoying, warm but sharp. Jaskier feels like safety, he has from the start. And so, Geralt lets himself have this.

“Siren,” he murmurs after the last notes of the song die down, “thank you. It’s a beautiful gift. You are a gift.”

“Godness, Geralt,” Jaskier breathes out, “don’t say such things.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t be responsible for my actions when I hear you say something like that.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back,” Geralt replies, “You are a gift.”

Jaskier’s gaze darkens. “Just you wait, Geralt Rivia,” he says huskily, “the things I’m going to do to you–”

Week 47

“All right, young lady, time to show off!”

Jaskier angles his phone so that the camera shows both him and Ciri as they sit by the piano in his house. Ciri smiles at Geralt and waves in greeting. Geralt smiles back, giving her an encouraging nod, and she places her fingers on the keys.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in-between and outside of that spectrum,” Jaskier says in an announcer voice, “I present to you Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia, who will play Chopsticks for this esteemed audience!”

Ciri snickers and then begins. She plays slowly, yet to Geralt’s untrained ear, she keeps the rhythm and doesn’t miss any notes. The song lasts only a minute or two but Geralt is still very proud of her.

“Good job, Cub,” he tells her, making her smile.

“Indeed!” Jaskier seconds, “You’re a talent, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I got it from dad,” Ciri jokes.

The joke warms him to his very core but he snorts because the very notion is beyond ridiculous. “I wouldn’t be able to play well if my life depended on it.”

“Have you tried, though?” Jaskier asks with a smirk that bodes trouble.

Ciri grins like a brat she is. “We could learn together, dad.”

“A splendid idea, Ciri!” Jaskier exclaims. “Now, how can we talk your dad into it?”

Geralt faces two pairs of bright eyes and matching mischievous smiles, and he knows he can’t say no.

Week 48

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jaskier lets out a small laugh. “Am I dreaming? Just... it’s been so long.”

“Hmm.”

They don’t talk much, only smile at each other. Geralt can almost sense Jaskier’s excitement through the screen, and he shares the feeling.

Tomorrow, he returns to his family. Very soon, finally, he comes back home.

To Jaskier.

*** 

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you’d like to revisit this fic as a whole, you can do so on AO3. 

The list of "Jaskier's" songs in this fic: Vor í Vaglaskógi by KALEO Movement by Hozier Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine Pass Them By by Agnes Obel Muddy Waters by LP Venus by Sleeping At Last Coming Home, Pt. II by Skylar Grey Angels by the xx I Hold You by CLANN

It would be... a hell of an album.

[jessie-sam-and-ash]

I've had a pretty bad fever and slept for quite some time. Now i just woke up and checked my phone.

2DAYS?!!? I slept 2whole days???? What the hell?!?

Why didn't mom wake me up? This isn't like her at all. Did sje give me my meds in my sleep? Ugh who cares now. I'm feeling better. 48hours of total black out was just what i needed. But god am i hungry now....

Wtf why won't the door open? C'mon it can't be seriously locked!!

*shuffling and grunting in the hallway*

Hooooooooold up. What's that??

*i peep through the keyhole* *terrified gasp as i stumble backwards* *outside, in the hallway, there's this ugly decomposing WALKING corpse* its a prank its a prank its gotta be a prank

*but the stench tells otherwise*

I need to get to the kitchen else imma starve here.....the door's clearly locked. The window! Imma sneak out the window!

*carefully i stand on the outer window still. The street looks awful, cars abandoned in the middle of the road, some even turned upside down. And lots of those....things walking around* they can't be zombies could they? Zombies aren't real....

*i climb down the water spout as quietly as possible* *luckily the kitchen window is open and no one seems to be inside*

Alright. First lemme close the door then eat something. Need to make a list of what i have and how long it'll last..... where's mom and dad? Hope they're safe. *I stop a sniff*

*after closing the door i find some milk and cereal. It seems electricity hasn't gone out yet since the fridge works* *as im about to take a seat, my foot hits something, sending it across the room* *its a phone. Mom's phone* *i turn it on. Messenger is open. She didn't get to send a last text....to me: 'pls be safe and don't open the door. You got t survive for us. We hold thm off as good as we cdkxfkflldk '*

They......they....no way. No no no no no!!! Could they be.....the zombie i saw in the hallway. I need to get a better look. But then what? What if it's them? Can i really...? I have to. It's not a matter of 'can' or 'cant'. They wanted me to live. This is what i will do. But first, provisions.

*i count some cans of food, an unopened pack of cereal, some veggies and what's left of mom's chicken soup* *it should keep me going for a few days until i make a plan to go out* *got several water bottles and a pack of beer*

*i take the small axe mom uses for chopping bones for soup* *i take a deep breath and slowly open the door*

*i look left and right: front door is wide open, will have to close it. The hallway seems empty for now, need to check the living room* *i quickly close the door and head towards the only other room*

Shit. SHIT!!! NOT dad! No no no nooo.....

*i struggle to not scream at the sight: dad, one arm missing, is sluggishly walking through the room, grunting to himself. Face mauled so bad i can barely recognize it, slowly decomposing. The smell is unbearable*

I can't do it. I can't do it. Dammit! I can't! No you bitch, you must!! That's not your dad anymore. The dead are supposed to stay dead. You gotta do it. You got this. Just get the head, smash it as hard as you can.

*i slowly make my way across the room, careful to not make any noise, need the moment of surprise* *im close enough. I raise the axe and...............strike* *the sickening sound of bones breaking fills my ears, the wet slosh of the axe leaving the skull makes me sick to the stomach* *the zombie falls to the ground* *i nudge it with my foot. It doesn't move. I killed it*

*shaking i tiptoe my way upstairs* *time to deal with the other one*

*it saw me! It runs towards me, still slower then a normal human* *i shriek and in the last second swing the axe* *the head tumbles to the ground, soon followed by the body* *im shaking terribly at this point* *fall to my knees and start crying*

Im sorry im sorry im sorry!!!! Mom dad im sorry!! I had to, i have to live for you. Forgive me! Im sorry! Im sorry! Please oh please let this be all nothing but one of my sick dreams!!

*sobbing and exhausted i fall asleep on the now blood soaked carpet*

.

.

.

.

It's been a week. Im outta food officially. Can still eat what's in the fridge but it'll go bad soon. I shouldn't go too far into the city before i have better weapons and know more about these shits. Hmmmmmm🤔 neighbor's house it is.

*i put my black hoodie on and some sneakers* *armed with the axe and a backpack im ready to head out* *the street seems empty. Yesterday a car's alarm started blaring somewhere down the road, attracting the zombies. I wrote about this in my little notebook: sensitive to sound*

*i bolt out the door and only stop in front of Jim's house* hope he's not dead in there too.

*i find the door unlocked and slip inside* *silence. No sign of zombies roaming* *i head to the kitchen and start searching*

*nothing useful* guess he managed to leave and took everything he could.

*i look around the house some more. I manage to find a bigger axe*

*getting out. Halfway back i stop in my tracks. A zombie's walking nearby. According to mom's behavior they also are attracted by movement* *BUT NO ONE COULD'VE GUESSED THEY ARE ATTRACTED BY SMELL TOO HOLLY SHIT* *he smelled me and charged* *i ran all the way home and slammed the door shut*

*panting* fuck fuck fuckkk. Gosh that was close.

*i go to the living room where i layed mom amd dad's corpses* *the stench is terrible. Im keeping the windows half open all the time* guess you two don't have any ideas on how to keep these fuckers away huh? They see me, they charge. They smell me, they charge. What the hell should i do? God you guys stink, i should bury you some time.

Or maybe..........? Hmmm might work. Let's test it.

*i take mom's head by the remaining hair and go to the front door where i can hear the zombie scratching at it* *i open it ajar and put the putrefying head in front of the gap* *i hear the zombie sniffing then grunting, then it goes away* interesting...

*i close the door again and throw the head on the couch* *i run upstairs to my room and grab the notebook: 'zombies are attracted by sound, movement and smell. They recognize eachother by the smell of decay. Using enough of their blood or flesh etc can keep them away. Need to see if you need to act like them too' *

.

.

.

Today i ate the last of that salad. Need to search for more food. Most neighbors either left and took everything good or didn't have anything canned and is now spoiled. I should try to make my way towards one of the stores. I should prepare.

*i go downstairs. Take dads large coat off the clothes rack*

Hey mom, dad. Im sorry but need a favor from you two.......

*i take the big axe next to the couch and start butchering one of the corpses* *blood and chunks of flesh fly all over the place* *when im done, im left with a bloody paste of guts and rotten meat* *using a glove i then smear the coat with the smelly paste* *i feel like gagging* this should do..

*i put the coat on, take the axe and my trusty backpack*

*with shaky hands i open the front door and step out into the blazing sun*

It's time to head out.

[angelbittyabuse]

A flock of crows, part one

Behind the curtain: Wooops we had a coding glitch! So sorry, here’s the corrected version! There’s no trigger warning for this part, but there will be for the next one! Please don’t get too attached to the characters.

...

« Please don’t give me away! I’ll be a good bitty! Better! » He flails, hits the ground with his feets in his tantrum. His owner raises an eyebrow, his eyes lasting on the being, he seems to doubt... But no.

 The pet creature was a cancer since day one. To the never-ending wailing had added hidden orders, reflexions and comments... Critics. On the way he was living, his way of clothing himself, the hour he was waking up on week-ends! He had took that baby blue as a good deed, since one of his friend was moving in where they weren’t allowed. But now? This good deed had been drown by months of hard feelings about this thing, high as two berrys but so irritating. Putting a flyer down in front of the bitty, the baby blue could clearly hear his owner tell…

 « I’m bringing you where they will take care of you to your worth. » Blue was forced to take a few step back as the blow of the flyer nearly knocked him out of his feet. He bends to the paper, tries to read.

 « Beaux Cieux Breeding ? » Stutters Blue, raising a questionning face to his human.

« You’ll end your days as a stallion. » His owner giggles. « I’m nearly jealous. »

 ...

 The silence clearly didn’t came to the rendez-vous during the whole car ride. The pleading becomes thumping. Blue now yells to be heard, soiling the poor hamster cage he was carried away with tears and other colored fluids.

  « HUMAN DON’T DO THAT !! » He bawls. « THIS IS THE WORST DECISION OF YOUR LIFE !! » The said human turns higher the radio volume but the screamings won’t stop anyway. What follows of the speech is the same refrain. ‘Not that you’re used to take good decisions ! / you’re gonna regret me / I’m your bitty and I love you ! / bring me home, I know you love me too !’. When Blue ends up understanding that he won’t have any answers, his words melt into a high-pitching wailing. The crys go on and on until the car stops in front of an adorable little farm, all that picturesque. At twenty minutes from town, the air there is pur. Half-feral cats hang out in the courtyard, rubbing themselves to the human legs as he slaps close his car’s door. This one used to be brand new, once there was a time, before that Blue idiot had this idea that a turquoise color will better fit a vehicule of his ‘magnificence’... And starts to repaint it with a colored pencil. The horrid cracks on his car painting would have finished convincing the human that his choice was for the best, if he had doubted it only a little.

 « Welcome ! » A young girl, maybe forteen, comes running. Her full face and her lively eyes bring a smile to the human.

 « Thanks! Are your parents here ? » He asks, this barely audible, drown by the bitty cries that came back stronger. The girl raises her shoulders.

 « They’re busy. But they told me to take the bitty. You’re the person we had on the phone? » The human uses a small time to bring himself back together.

 « Oh. Yes. Here’s Blue. Here... » He hands the cage and the girl takes it with a whole particular caution. The human goes away, missing by a second the glance of malice living in the girl’s eyes.

 « So, Blue, we’re a lil grumpy? » She let away, gaining a truce in the cries. Blue raises his huge wet eyesockets to the teen. « Name’s Jessica and, you’ll see, you’ll have such a blast, here ! » Taking no care to the cats swarming to her feets whom were interested in the small rodent, she walks toward a small barn, a little far from the main house. Blue clumsily walks to the front of his cage, his cute lil hands holding the bars.

 « You’re my new mommy ? » He ask, a shiver in his voice. Jessica softly laughs.

 « Whatever. » She breaths, ignoring the dumb face of the bitty, falling apart to such an answer. Putting the cage to the ground, so she can push with both of her hands a door way too heavy, Blue see agglutinating around him the felides, meowing of hunger as if he was a can of tuna.

 « Er... Jessica? » Squeals the scared bitty. But nobody answers him excepted the heavy creaking of the wood door. At last, the door had given up and opens on a dumping ground drown in darkness. Blue doesn’t have any time to prepare himself before his cage is balancing again at the end of the young girl arms. She dumps it in a CLANK that can’t be unheard on something that had metal on it- another cage? Then she rubs her hands.

 « You’ll be fine, here, until the chirurgy. » Blue frozes to such speaking. Chirurgy? But wasn’t it...

 Why would he needs chirurgy?

 « I’m not ill ! » The bitty defends himself. « Chirurgy, it’s for people who’re really ill! » He whines but that does nothing if not amusing the teen. She doesn’t bother answering and goes away, having the same struggle to close the door after her. Just before the outside light dims into a stray of light, Blue has the time to see one of the cat slithers into the barn.

 « Hey ! »

 Then, the nothingness. Or it was what he belived. But as his eardrums get used to the lack of stimulis, he ends up earing way weaker sounds. The noise of one- no, hundreads of breathings, harshs, terrified, brokens. Mad laughing and wailing melted and- oh, the meowing develishly high-pitched of the cat, prowling through the aisles. The aisles... He eyesockets grows used to the darkness. There’s rows and rows... Is that cages? Blue let away a chocked breath.

 « IS THERE SOMETHING HERE? » Yells the baby blue. He stands surprised not to have any answers and insists. « Please ! » The last word, a weak pleading.

 « Shut the fuck up. » The blue’s eyesockets grows bigger.

 « LANGUAGE !! » He spats, a reflex of when he was at the adoption center. One cage down, the red eyelights of what seems to be an edgy become sharper. He stares the maybe ennemi for a time before understanding what’s in front of his eyes.

 « A baby blue. Tch. As if I needed that. » The voice sounds clear. The edgy have several months less than the baby blue.

 « A JUNIOR! ALL FOR THE BETTER! MY MAGNIFICENT EXEMPLE WILL- »

 « I don’t think that’s the time for that’. » White pupils shining in the cage in front of his calmly answer. Blue hesitates for a moment. A... Sansy ? « Just do what he says, we don’t really have the soul to have a chat. »

 « Nonsense ! » Complains the little Blue. « I just arrived and I need answers ! » Useless to say that the tiny creature is deeply insulted. « At what time do we have a snack, here ? » There’s a silence, then the frenetical laughter of the edgy. Blue frowns. Did he... Missed snack time? It was so villain to laugh at him...! « Good, and what are we doing here? » He carrys on, a little less brave. « Oh, it’s for a birthday surprise, it is it? » His excited voice suddenly slips to the idea. « We are the gifts, aren’t we? » To whom will they be gifted? To a child who would play with them all day long? To a sweet human girl who would love cuddles? Or even to a monster, Blue wasn’t difficult! As long as the person would be willing to let them sleep in the bed...

 « Fuck... » Laughs the red one. « I tell him ? »

 « No ! » Yells the sansy in a panic. « Let him in his world. For now... » It was better to keep the eyesockets closed. It will always be time to stress out to the bone later one... But the edgy didn’t seem to want to hear such an answer. With a cruel smile, he blurted out.

 « Eh, dumb-face... Look what’s over yout head! »

 « UH ?? » Blue raises his face without thinking, suddenly noticing a glimpse of silver light hanging on the ceiling.

 « It’s the ‘chirurgy chain’. » Continues the edgy, a sadistic tone ringing in his voice. « The shiny thingy, it’s a butcher hook~ >> He soft talks, exctatic, despite the whimperings of the sansy, trying his best to make him shut up. Blue’s bones grow paler as he registers the words.

 « Ha... Haha? » He answers back. « YOU GOT ME WELL, EDGY, BUT I DID NOT FALL FOR THAT! THERE’S AN END TO ALL BAD JOKES! »

[mememanufactorum]

Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night quote starters

* FEEL FREE TO SHARE AS YOU PLEASE, NO CREDIT NEEDED. CHANGE PRONOUNS OR ANYTHING ELSE AS DESIRED.

"Mankind too soon forgets tragedy.”

“I wouldn’t even be alive if not for him. He’s a good soul.”

“The hell he endured ten years ago would break the best of souls.”

“I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

“It was their transgression, not yours. You... You always took care of us.”

“What put me in that sleep?”

“I’d... Forgotten the way it felt... Like uninvited claws scraping across my bones...”

“I know my body’s limits better than anyone.”

“If I run into trouble, you can help me. You’ve done it before, you’ll do it again.”

“Thanks for giving me a choice in the matter.”

“Well, I won’t let you down. Not if I can help it.”

“Just promise you won’t push yourself.”

“So, Sleeping Beauty. You’ve decided to awaken.”

“You’re right, it’s horrible. But what you’re doing now is just as bad!”

“No! No, there you are very wrong!”

“What I intend to do is reshuffle the world! I’d say I’ve earned the right.”

“You’re the only one who understands the pain I feel. What it’s like to no longer be human...”

“I thought I’d never hear those words from you.”

“I was the one who came to you broken, convinced I was a monster.”

“Our power doesn’t make us good or bad. Our choices do. ”

“I’d given up on my humanity, but you restored my hope.”

“I tire of reminiscing with you.”

“If you can still claim to be human at the end of it all, then perhaps I might be more inclined to listen.”

“Was this a village? What happened to it...?”

“You wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

“What happened here only strengthens my resolve.”

“You shouldn’t be out here. Let me take you somewhere safe.”

“I did some looking around before, and this place seems secure.”

“Let’s not waste any time. We have a lot to do.”

“I know you’re strong, but... Be careful?”

“I appreciate you doing what you can.”

“You have a lot to explain for. After all the terrible things you’ve done!”

“All that is in the past. I’ll not be defending my actions to you.”

“If you don’t already know, then let us keep it that way.”

“All that matters is that I am alive.”

“I don’t have time to argue with you. I just hope that you are wise enough not to get in my way.”

“I know what you are – That ghastly air about you.”

“Aha. And what am I to make of you?”

“Me? I am your executioner.”

“You forget how many of our friends perished for similarly misplacing their faith.”

“And do I look as weak? Look closer.”

“I was bored with her anyway.”

“If you value your life, then stay out of my sight.”

“You can hold me to my word, [name], but don’t presume to tell me what else I can or cannot do.”

“I apologize for my acquaintance. He had no right to speak to you like that.”

“Pay it no mind. I’ve been through worse.”

“I want you to know that I trust you, [name] – And nothing that anyone says could ever sway that trust.”

“You have my thanks. It’s nice to know I have someone on my side.”

“He really doesn’t like me, does he?”

“Butchers and cutthroats all say as much.”

“I’m not a cutthroat! I’ve never cut anyone!”

“If I could take them off, then I wouldn’t be cursed! ...Duh!”

“You have the worst curse ever.”

“Yes. Quite literally yes.”

“That is not an enticing offer.”

“Wait, what are you even worried about? You look like you could rip me into a hundred pieces.”

“It feels like nothing. Just power. And so long as I’m in control of it, human power.”

“You’re a fool if you think you can soak up that much of their deviltry and still call yourself human.”

“I’m not the fool here. And I will never give in to you or them.”

“How are you still even alive? I take no orders from a DEAD MAN WALKING!”

“I must give chase while the trail is still fresh.”

“It’s all right. I’m used to it.”

“The gifted ones are always the hardest to manage.”

“Relax. You look too serious.”

“It’s not easy to smile on command, you know.”

“Wait! I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Then you should not have come at all! But our clash may have to wait.”

“You catch on quickly.”

“Surely nothing a man of your ability cannot handle?”

“Ah... Well, it just so happens that I have business ahead as well. Does this mean we have a truce?”

“You have my thanks.”

“Save your thanks. I didn’t do it for you.”

“Fine. But I owe you all the same.”

“You are a fierce one, [name].”

“Perhaps I misjudged his intentions.”

“I would have preferred you not see that.”

“I let go of the hatred years ago.”

“But I am here to test you, not end you.”

“I have no quarrel with you, [name].”

“Carnage is the language I speak. If we are to come to an understanding, this is how we do it. Now fight as if your life depended on it.”

“Enough. How do you expect me to fight as if my life depends on it when you are clearly not?”

“Heh. You could tell?”

“With your skill, you could have destroyed me in a heartbeat.”

“I’m here to keep my promise to you, and nothing else.”

“Ha, please. You think I wield this power unwillingly?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I knew you were in there. I knew it.”

“You kept your promise... Thank you...”

“It’s better this way. The world can be rid of me.”

“I’m glad I got to see you smile... One last...”

“It shouldn’t have come to this, my friend.”

“I have a new promise to keep.”

“Forgive me for dragging you into all this.”

“I am responsible for all of your misfortunes.”

“Good luck, [name]...”

“Oh, don’t think me ungrateful.”

“Your sacrifice has become my strength.”

“If so, I wash my hands of it.”

“I decided to seek a higher power. The power to slay gods.”

“Do you realize how many people have died as a result?”

“They deserved to die because they were weak. And more will follow until I obtain all I desire.”

“This whole mess wasn’t enough for you?”

“Doing the right thing isn’t a betrayal.”

“You know what? I never expected to be put in a corner like this.”

“No demon is too powerful for me to summon, even if I cannot keep it here forever.”

“Do you really think you can stop me before then?”

“You don’t understand what power is for. You wield it stupidly, arrogantly. And now you will pay the price.”

“They fought gladly and proudly for what they believed in. Lives like theirs deserve to be celebrated.”

“Demons still remain in this world. We can grieve later, after finishing the last of them off.”

[charliesradiodemon]

Charlastor Week Day 3: Cooking

(I’m cheating here lmao sorry. This one was gonna be the Human AU fic but then I had a better idea for both prompts in terms of direction

Also is this fic about a healthy relationship? Nah.

Warning: contains blood, talking about cannibalism and murder)

Day 3 Cooking 

“Alastor!“ a sharp gasp made Alastor whip his head around to the shack’s door. Blood had splattered across his wicked grin. He found the silhouette of who he recognized was Charlie standing at the door. He couldn’t see her expression due to the outside light behind her obscuring her face, but he could only imagine the delicious horror that graced her features.

The bloodthirst set in once more and the one thing he wanted to see was his lover and prey’s face twisted in horror and despair before her sweet light drained from her eyes.

It was too bad. Charlie was a special gal who was closest to his heart than anyone ever could ever get. In a way he did find a kind of love with her in their three years together. She was always lovely and interesting and the fact that she hadn’t bored him yet surprised him. It certainly was a crying shame that his favorite prey was about to meet her end now that she’d seen too much. He had no doubt that he’d miss her as he savored each delicious piece of her.

Through the obscurity, Alastor could see that she brought her clasped hands to her chest. “You...” she paused.

Alastor approached slowly, a butcher’s knife in hand. “Yes, Charlie?”

She stood in place and didn’t move. While he appreciated her thoughtfulness to not run away and just accept her fate, Alastor was partially disappointed that he couldn’t give chase to the doe. After all, they always tasted best when they desperately fought for their lives. “You’re the New Orleans Butcher...” she whispered just enough for the two of them to hear.

‘She even whispered my secret. What a lovely, thoughtful girl.’

With a wide grin, he replied with confidence. “Yes indeedy! And what are you-“ he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks unable to continue.

Once he was close enough so that the light that obscured her face dissipated, Alastor found a small smile on her lovely face. She even seemed to be suppressing a laugh even.

“And here I was worrying about that...”

His smile remained but faltered slightly at the sight. What about this situation was so funny? Did she not understand what was going on? He almost felt concerned for the strange woman. “Worrying about what my dear?” Why was this so funny to her? She was about to die by her lover’s hand!

“Alastor... I think we’ve been hiding some crazy secrets from each other.”

The man tightened his grip on the bloodied butcher’s knife in his hand. “What do you mean?”

She stepped closer with her relieved smile in place, impossibly calm as she approached slowly. “I’ve been thinking about the future a lot recently. And I know this is selfish of me, but one day I’ll have to leave. And I was thinking, when that time came I’d never see you again. I’ve always wanted to see the good in people and see them go to Heaven, but you... I-I was sure you’d go to Heaven and I’d never get to see you again. And it’s awful, but somehow... I’m relieved,” She was now in front of him, no trace of fear in her eyes. Only a soft smile full of joy and tearful relief. Alastor had no idea how to react. He couldn’t move his legs let alone lift his arm to end the odd woman.

His lover looked up at him, her brown eyes clear even under the dim light. But then she blinked and Alastor could have sworn he’d snapped. Her sclera glowed a brilliant red while the iris was a golden ring around her black pupils. The sound of something sprouting from Charlie’s head took his attention away from her eyes. Two long horns sprouted amongst rapidly growing golden hair.

“M-my word...” Alastor whispered, not knowing what else to say. His heart pounded in his chest, making him feel all sorts of emotions. But none of those emotions were negative in the slightest.

“I’m sorry if this is too much for you. I didn’t want you to see me this way.” Seeing his expression and hearing his tone, Charlie’s gaze fell to the floor in assumed dejection. She probably looked like a hideous monster to him. She acted too hastily and now she had to be ready for whatever came next.

“What are you then, my love?” The words made Charlie’s eyes widen in shock. The term of endearment truly caught her off guard and for a moment she didn’t know what to do other than look back up at him with the same shocked expression he had just a moment ago. “You can tell me Charlie.”

His expression softened back to the smile she was familiar with as if a moment ago he wasn’t planning his next meal around her. His darkened eyes were almost loving. If he was frightened at all, he was good at hiding it.

Charlie clasped her hands together, suddenly feeling awkward and shy. “I-I’m a demon. I’m from H-Hell.”

It came to Alastor as a surprise. She was the single most pure creature to exist. What had she done to earn her eternal damnation? “It can’t possibly be. You’re the sweetest little thing to grace the Earth. Tell me, how is it you ended up in Hell?”

The ease of his questions only surprised Charlie further. It was as if this was just a normal occurrence and he was asking her about her day. “I was born there.” She replied truthfully, attempting to sound natural about it.

Alastor, butcher knife still in hand, placed his free hand on her shoulder and continued, “So when you said you had to go home one day, did you mean that you were going back to Hell?”

Charlie nodded and suddenly she was drawn into his arms. “You silly, sweet girl.” Charlie felt the handle of the butcher’s knife pressing against her back, but she wasn’t worried. She trusted her Alastor, not like the cleaver would harm her anyway. She reciprocated the hug with a small smile until she realized something.

She peered up at him with a questioning look. “And what about you? How long has this been going on?”

Alastor hummed as he thought for a moment. “About seven years or so,” he said casually as if he were just speaking about the weather. It nearly unnerved Charlie that he was so casual and calm about this. Then again, she wasn’t any better with her own secret.

“So I suppose I’ll be seeing you in Hell one day.” He chuckled, pulling away slightly to look her down.

He failed to mention what exactly he did with those he slaughtered. He also failed to mention that Charlie herself would have eventually ended up as another source of food for him once he felt she outlived her entertainment.

“I’ve been here for three. Wow... I never would have suspected!” She pulled out of his embrace, not realizing that she was now covered in blood.

“Yes that is the point, darling. If everyone suspected, well I just wouldn’t be here now would I?” He laughed with a shrug. To his surprise, Charlie let out a closed-mouthed giggle. Then again she was a demon, murder must not mean much to her.

Alastor raised his eyebrows and grinned widely. “So as a demon would you approve?”

“I mean as a demon I’m supposed to. I’m supposed to “tempt” people to sin. But I also don’t necessarily like it. I... really don’t actually.” she said hesitantly as she turned her gaze to the bloodied workbench in the corner. It still held the fresh corpse of a man Charlie couldn’t recognize.

‘What was he going to do with the man? None of the bodies of his victims have ever been found... The only thing the New Orleans Slasher would leave behind were splatters of blood and bits of his victims.’

Alastor belted a hearty chuckle. “You’re not a very good demon, dear.”

“Ah yeah...” she huffed an awkward chuckle as she turned her attention back to her lover in front of her. “My dad’s reminded me of that for a while now...”

“I bet. Now as much as I’d love to continue this conversation, this isn’t the place for that my love,” he nodded to the door and shot her a reassuring grin. “Why don’t you head back in the house and once I’m done out here we can talk.”

Charlie smiled half relieved and half gratefully. She leaned up and kissed the part of his cheek that was free of blood. “Sounds good. Do you want me to make you anything?” Her demonic form dissipated with another blink of an eye, which Alastor watched with full interest before walking back to the workbench.

“Coffee would be nice sweetheart. Oh and I must apologize. It seems I’ve left a mess on you.” he gestured toward her front and Charlie immediately looked down. She jumped in surprise and then sighed.

Charlie pouted and inspected her dress. “Al, you need to be more careful! I’m really not supposed to do this but...” she paused and snapped her fingers. A rush of hellfire consumed her for a split second before revealing a spotless dress on the slasher’s cleaned lover. He was at a loss for words at the spectacle. Charlie let out a content breath and continued, “This is my favorite dress!” She turned and made it back to the threshold before turning back to Alastor, who looked dumbfounded. “Please make sure to wash up before you come back in please? Blood isn’t fun to wash up you know.”

Alastor awoke from his daze. He nearly burst out laughing, but merely chuckled at the odd request. “Yes dear.”

Once the door closed, Alastor went back to work feeling a strange sense of ease, excitement and intrigue all in one sensation. Who was once his prey and simple ingredient was now his confidant. It almost felt good keeping someone who knew of his hobby around strangely enough. Maybe it was the sudden rush of adrenaline?

Or maybe it was because he’d realized that he’d taken a demon for a lover. And while he did genuinely love Charlie in a strange way, knowing now that she was a demon only seemed to spark a new feeling of excitement that he refused to extinguish. “A demon...” he muttered as he cut away at the bone of his latest kill. “The little dear is just full of surprises.”

He made quick work of his preparations. Once he packed and stored his future meal in a natural underground freezer, he wiped off the excess blood from his person, per Charlie’s request. The underground storage was at the peak temperature to store meats now that the first snowfall coated the ground. Properly packed, the human flesh would hold up longer. He’d make a fine meal later, but first he needed to chat with his lovely demon waiting for him.

He found her in the sitting room, reading a book peacefully with a pair of steaming cups beside her. When she heard his footsteps, she looked to the door and smiled. “Your coffee’s waiting for you.”

Alastor took the cup closest to his unoccupied chair and took a sip. “Thank you darling. Now, I hope you know I have plenty of questions. And I’m sure you do too.” he walked to the sofa and set his coffee cup down on the coffee table. He pat the seat next to him, to which Charlie smiled and obliged. He took her hand in her’s and let their clasped hands rest on the cushion between them.

The little demoness turned to face him, looking like she was ready to burst. “Alastor, I actually only have one question for you.”

“Go on.” he replied calmly.

She tensed. Alastor detected this sign of distress but remained unmoved. “Did you... ever feed me human...?” Charlie asked shyly. She prayed that her thoughts were wrong. She pieced together that he probably ate his victims seeing how he put so much care into the butchering of his victims.

“Oh no dear, I would never,” he replied promptly. He felt Charlie relax as soon as he said it. She wouldn’t know how to feel if she found out that she ate human meat. She’d had so many meals at Alastor’s house that once the idea entered her mind, she feared for the worst. “Not only would it be rude to feed it to someone who would not appreciate the taste of human flesh, I am also selfish. I don’t have it often, but I’m willing to share with you if you-“

Once her question was answered satisfactorily, she cut him off. “Nope! No no no thank you!” She shook her head wildly and crossed her arms into an ‘X’. “You can have all of it.” once she finished speaking, she placed her hand back into his grasp and plopped her head onto his shoulders with a sigh.

Alastor chuckled and took another sip of coffee while it still steamed in its cup. “How generous of you, dearest. You’re a demon are you not? I’m surprised that you have an aversion for human flesh!”

“Haha... yeah... I’m just not the biggest fan...”

They spoke for a bit longer before the grandfather clock reminded the pair of the time.

“Oh! I haven’t prepared dinner yet!” Charlie cried. She let go of Alastor’s hand and stood. She made her way toward the kitchen before turning to Alastor. “What would you like for dinner? We still have venison.”

Alastor stood as well and grinned. “Allow me to assist you my love. I’m sure my talents with flesh will help you greatly.”

Charlie scoffed and nodded. “Alright come on funny guy.”

It didn’t feel right, but she was happy. Sure he committed heinous actions, and he probably intended to turn on her one day, but Alastor was still the same Alastor she knew. It was awful but she wasn’t fazed by his hobby for murder and consumption of other humans. Once she was gone, it was inevitable that he’d one day find himself in the fiery pits of Hell and reunite with her. It didn’t matter what he did at this point. As long as he stayed by her side, she’d be content.

[ashes-and-ashes]

Could u do a wolfstar fic where remus finnaly realizes hes in love with sirius??? Also luv ur ficsssss❤💗

Aww, thanks!! Hope you like this!!

tw for abuse and torture

~

“Jesus,” Remus says.

Sirius lets out a broken laugh. His shirt is rumpled, unbuttoned and pushed back around his elbows, like angel wings on his turn back. His hair falls around his shoulders, curling around his neck. “That bad?”

Remus shakes his head. “What do you think?”

“Oh trust me. I can feel it.” Sirius snorts, letting his head drop forward. “It fucking hurts.”

His back is a massacre, like someone had taken a scalpel to the flesh there. Chunks of it had been carved out, blood trickling out where the scabs has not set yet, soft edges and hard lines. Remus can’t see a piece of skin that wasn’t bloodied, wasn’t cut or bleeding or bruised.

He’s seen a lot - he’s broken bones and dislocated shoulders and cut himself right down to the bone but he’s never seen anything like what Sirius bore.

“You have to tell someone,” he says. “McGonagall, or Dumbledore - “

“No.”

“Sirius - “

“No.”

Remus swears in fustration. He reaches up with shaking hands, wanting to touch the wounds, press his hands into the cuts, take away the pain that Sirius was going to. “Please.”

Sirius’ lips press together, into a hard, flat line. He’s trembling, Remus realizes, his face pale and cold. “No. Because...they’ll know. It won’t do anything.”

“Sirius - “

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus!” Sirius explodes. “I said no! Leave me the hell alone!”

Remus carefully steps back. “Sirius, you’re not thinking straight - “

“You don’t fucking understand! Who am I going to tell? Dumbledore? The most he can do is take me away, and what fucking use is that? She’ll just hurt Reg, and I - I would rather die - “

Remus flings his arms out, at the blood on the floor, at Sirius’ back. “Yeah? Well you might get your wish after all. She’s fucking butchering you!”

“Like you would understand.” Sirius’ voice is cold. “You can’t, Re. You can’t - you don’t know what it’s like in there.”

“Can’t understand what?” His voice is getting louder now, almost shouting; he’s aware that people probably were listening and he doesn’t care. “Can’t understand pain? I turn into a fucking werewolf every goddamn moon! I have my internal fucking organs rearagned, my bones are literally snapped in half and I’ve been doing this since I was five!”

“Congratulations,” Sirius spits. “I’ve been Crucio’d until I passed out. You don’t know what - what she does to me - “

“Then tell someone!” Remus shouts the words out, all the pent up anger and fear and concern finally spilling out in a huge, bubbling mass. “Tell someone for fucks sakes! She’ll kill you!”

“And what?” Sirius says sarcastically. “What am I but some disowned, disgraced whore? That’s what she told me, anyways. No one would care if I died.”

Remus falls silent. He glares at Sirius, breath heaving. “I would.”

“Wonderful.”

“Sirius, please...”

Sirius shakes his head. “Just drop it. Drop it, for fucks sakes. Jesus Christ, why do you even care so much?”

“Because I love you!”

Sirius stares at him. “What?”

Remus glares back, then lets his head drop. He chuckles, bitterly, raking his hand roughly though his hair. “Oh fuck.”

Sirius steps forward. His shirt is still half off, his hair a mess around his shoulders, his eyes burning like embers in a fire before it was extinguished and God, Remus wanted to kiss him.

He can’t look Sirius in the eyes, can’t even bear to make eye contact as Sirius says, “Since when.”

“5th year, at least.” Remus coughs, looking down at his feet. Sirius is right in front of him; he refuses to look up. “I knew when...you were on the tower, and you were holding your broom in your hands, and...you leaned back. Tumbled right off the tower and fell off the edge and I remember...I was ready to jump off after you.”

He coughs. “‘Course you did that fancy flip and everything. Teased me for weeks afterwards. But...it scared me. How willing I was to die.”

Sirius stares at him. Remus can still see his scars; they curl all the way to his chest, silver like scrollwork over his ribs, against his clavicle and over his shoulders. He wonders how long it took, for Walburga to etch those marks into his flesh, immortalize her rage in silver and white.

“You...” Sirius begins, then trails off. “You love me? Me? But I’m...I’m damaged! I’m broken. God, Re, find someone else, you can’t - I’m not good enough - “

Remus kisses him.

It’s a gentle kiss, soft and hopeful and beautful, nothing more then a brief touching of lips. He pulls away immediately, heart ponding. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry - “

Sirius just flips him over and kisses him, hard and bruising against the wall.

He’s careful, so fucking careful of Sirius’ back; his hands are already stained with blood but Sirius doesn’t stop. Remus lets his hands fall to rest on Sirius’ hips, thumbs pressed against the jutting bone there, head tilted back against the wall and God, he’s dreamed about this, all those sleepless nights and screamed nightmares and he’s finally kissing Sirius.

Sirius pulls away; he’s breathless, eyes so fucking bright, like the star that he was named for. “You’re an absolute idiot,” he whispers.

Remus gives him a small smile.

“I’m your idiot,” he says, and pulls Sirius down for another kiss.”

[chelsfic]

Chapter 9 - Inherited - Dracula/OFC - Dracula 2020 fanfic

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight 

Summary: Dracula has emotions and ruins everything.

A/N: Listennnn, it’s actually @dracula-s-bride​‘s fault for giving me the idea to ramp up the ANGST! Also, in case you’re interested (??!): I actually took the detail about Emilie being able to smell the time of day from science. Alexandra Horowitz, of the Barnard College Dog Cognition Lab, has conducted studies on canine olfaction and she theorizes that they can smell the passage of time (i.e. tell time by their snoots). She’s brilliant and fascinating and if you’re at all interested in dogs I highly recommend her books.

Dracula slept. His body lay on the ground, perfectly motionless and half-buried in the cold, sheltering dirt beneath the ruins of the Abbey’s old chapel. His pale face appeared carved from marble; his lips were stained a shocking red from the blood he’d gorged upon before going to his rest.

The butcher’s boy… the butcher... and a tinker he’d come upon on the road out of town. He’d been senseless and crazed in his need for blood. In his entire long life, Dracula had never felt Death’s pursuit so close at his heels as he had after offering himself to Emilie. He was afraid...and furious. 

The blood revived him but at the creeping sensation of dawn’s approach he grew weary again. He knew the thin layer of soil beneath his feather mattress would not do enough to restore him. And so he’d sought out the cold embrace of the earth beneath the abandoned chapel. In only a matter of hours he would be made well again. Then he would see Emilie… see her healthy and vibrant, her skin flushed and warm with the life he’d given...or had she taken it? Stolen it from him? Stolen...offered… His thoughts and emotions were tangled in confusion in the aftermath of the blood frenzy. His lips slowly curled back in an angry snarl. Emilie…

***

Emilie woke to a new world. She felt the brush of each individual thread in the sheets that covered her, her nostrils flared as she took in a banquet of scents: fresh coffee from the kitchen, grass, flowers, mold from the garden outside her window, the sweet, homely perfume of her mother’s personal scent. Somehow she could smell the time of day: the dry, still warmth of midday. 

When she opened her eyes she found her mother slumped over asleep in a rocking chair beside her bed. Emilie smiled faintly and reached out to take her hand. Mrs. Andrews came awake abruptly, looking about her in confusion for a moment before she recalled where she was.

She smiled down at her daughter and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed, “How are you this morning, better?”

Emilie frowned trying to remember the details of everything that happened yesterday. She remembered feeling unwell...going to the Count’s bedroom...feeling desperately that she needed him but also fearing to wake his monstrous side. But she felt perfectly fine...better than fine now. 

“I’m...wonderful, Mama,” Emilie replied, sitting up against the pillows. “I feel wonderful. How do you come to be here? Did the Count send for you when I was ill?”

Emilie’s tone was doubtful. She’d never known Dracula to correspond with her family other than forwarding payments to them through his solicitor. Mrs. Andrews shook her head.

“I came up with the doctor. You don’t remember? You were quite unwell, we really feared the worst…” she trailed off and her eyes looked troubled. She squared her shoulders and resolved to prod for the truth, “Count Dracula was concerned. Very concerned for your health. I’ve never known him to be so solicitous towards his servants before, Emilie.”

Emilie’s cheeks blushed a deep shade of pink and she directed her gaze down at her hands clasped together in her lap, “He has been very kind, mama….Can I have some water, please?”

Mrs. Andrews got slowly to her feet and Emilie felt a flash of guilt. She shouldn’t have avoided her mother’s obvious curiosity, and she shouldn’t let her wait on her like this. Her mother had a weak disposition and staying up with her all night must have exhausted her. 

“No, mama, I’m sorry! Sit back down and I’ll get the water. I really do feel amazingly better.”

Mrs. Andrews sent her a grateful look as she took her seat again in the rocking chair. She watched Emilie spring from bed and pour two glasses of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. 

“You look amazingly well, child,” Mrs. Andrews remarked. “Do you remember what it was the Count did to cure you? When he asked me to leave the room you were still looking frightful but only moments later he stormed out and your fever had broken…”

Emilie froze for just a second as she handed a water glass to her mother and moved to sit back in bed.

“Why...I’m sorry, mama. My memories are all hazy. I was very feverish…”

Mrs. Andrews narrowed her eyes but let the subject drop. She nodded toward the small wardrobe in the corner and quirked her head inquisitively, “Where are all of your clothes, darling? Your wardrobe is nearly empty. Have you left them in the laundry room?”

Emilie choked on a swallow of water and spent a moment clearing her throat and vying for time to think. She knew her mother would always be able to read a lie on her face as soon as it was uttered. She supposed they were past the point of concealment.

“My clothes are in Count Dracula’s bedroom, mama,” she said with only the slightest tremor of nerves. To admit to sharing a bed with a man out of wedlock was bad enough. For that man to be her employer...and the dark creature who had held her family’s indenture for a century….Well, Emilie was worried about her mother’s response.

“Oh, Emilie...you...he...oh, dear,” Mrs. Andrews drew in a long breath and took a moment to compose her thoughts. “I cannot reprimand you, dear daughter. Not after asking you to set aside your fear and morality in order to carry on your family’s duty as you have done...But I must caution you, Emilie. Count Dracula is many things but when it comes down to it he is a man. A powerful man. Men of power may play with our lives, our affections as they wish. Please, be careful…”

Emilie reached over and placed her hand over her mother’s, “Mama, you don’t need to worry. Vlad--Count Dracula cares for me. I know he does.”

And she did know. For as she’d sat there listening to her mother’s worries she’d searched her mind trying to call up memories of last night. Suddenly her mouth flooded with the phantom taste, the rich pooling of his blood on her tongue and she remembered. She’d drunk from him again. This time he’d given her much, much more than usual. The taste was overwhelming. It was all cold, eastern skies, mournful wolf cries in the night and the cut of winter air on bare skin. But there was more: there was the reflection of warm candlelight glowing on her skin, her cheek dimpled in a smile and the soft, vulnerable feel of her body under his. He loved her. It was a fact that she knew in her bones just as she knew that the sun would rise and set each day. Count Dracula loved her. 

***

Dracula rose as the sun’s light extinguished below the horizon. He climbed out from the hastily dug grave and brushed the soil from his clothes. Sleeping in the earth had fully restored him after the near fatal drink last night. He crept out onto the lawn and made his way toward the house. 

When he entered he found Emilie and her mother in the dining room eating supper. He still smelled of rot and mold and his white shirt was stained and unkempt. He stepped forward, his every move radiating danger and took a seat beside Emilie and across from her mother.

“I’m glad to see you looking so...lively, Miss Emilie,” Dracula drawled, drumming his fingers on the table and eyeing his lover with a sharp gaze.

Emilie was caught off guard and unsure how to respond, “Count, thank you for taking care of me yesterday. I’m feeling much better today.”

She was wearing one of the gowns he’d purchased for her. Emerald green silk that clung to her curves without being overly revealing. His Emilie was adorably modest even after he’d so thoroughly debauched her.

“Taking care of you...certainly. Although it seems you were the one taking, darling. Don’t you think?”

She furrowed her brows at him and shook her head quizzically, “Are you well, Vl...Count?”

Dracula’s eyes swung from daughter to mother knowingly. Mrs. Andrews didn’t seem surprised to see her daughter supping at her master’s table rather than attending it. He realized Emilie must have taken her into her confidence. He felt...he did not know how to quantify the emotions swirling within him. He felt soaring joy to see her well and eating. It gave him satisfaction that he had been the means of her salvation. He should be her salvation, her master, her everything. But he was also unavoidably disturbed that he had allowed himself to become so weakened for her...by her. He had wanted a bride, a deathly wife, to serve him and belong to him forever. He had not intended for the bond between them to take this form. She possessed him now as much as he possessed her. Count Dracula was unaccustomed to being in anyone else’s power and he lashed out against the very thought. It sparked anger, fear and hostility in his blood. He felt the edges of his self flare over into monstrous intent.

“I am well, Emilie. I have recovered my strength as you see,” he turned to Mrs. Andrews. “Mrs. Andrews, I must ask you to leave now. It’s really not appropriate for my housekeeper to invite her family to sup at my table. I’m surprised at you, Emilie.”

Emilie flinched away from him as if his cruel behavior had landed a physical blow. Mrs. Andrews narrowed her eyes and replied coldly, “I believe there is some new arrangement being worked out here, Count Dracula. My daughter is your housekeeper no longer.”

Dracula’s lips widened into a leering smile as he asked in a tone of false confusion, “Well, then, if she is no longer my housekeeper whatever can I be paying her for? Emilie...what services have you been rendering me of late to earn your salary?”

Mrs. Andrews gasped furiously but before she could respond Emilie sprang from her seat and struck Count Dracula in the face. Her strength could never match his but the infusion of his blood had improved it and his head snapped to the side as her palm made contact with his cheek. Emilie stood over him, fists clenched in anger and breathing rapidly. It was done in the matter of a second and she stood there feeling fury and fear warring within her. She knew that Count Dracula was powerful and dangerous. She could admit to herself that she was drawn to that part of him. And her demeanor was so naturally sweet and obedient that to defy him sent a wave of panic through her. But in that moment she reacted as she thought she must. She might be submissive and adoring, but she was also her mother’s daughter and her grandmother’s granddaughter...and she was brave.

“How...dare you?” she demanded. “I have been nothing but pure kindness and devotion and you would insult me this way in front of my mother?”

Dracula sat motionless, his head tilted to the side from her slap. He locked eyes with Mrs. Andrews and growled, “Leave now, Mrs. Andrews.”

The woman balked, “Now, I don’t think--”

“Now!” he roared, leaping across the table and grabbing the woman by the collar, dragging her out of the room. Emilie ran after him uselessly, unable to keep up with his preternatural speed. He reached the front door and tossed the woman out onto the gravel drive, slamming the door shut and rounding on Emilie. 

“It’s my fault, really,” he mused, stalking toward her and shepherding her back into the dining room. “I see I’ve given you too much. Too much leniency, too much freedom, too much...blood.”

Emilie’s back came up against the wall and she watched him approach with eyes wide in fear. She held her hands, palms out as if to ward him away, “Vlad, you’re not well. You need to...to eat and then I think--”

“Are you offering?” he taunted, finally reaching her and caging her in his arms. His fangs elongated and his eyes began clouding over scarlet. 

Emilie’s eyes filled with tears and she cringed away from him as if hoping the wall would simply swallow her up, “No...Vlad.”

Her scent spiked with fear, souring the air between them. Dracula grimaced in distaste, the surprise brought him slightly out of his frenzy. Emilie was flinching away from him, her eyes scrunched shut and her mouth open in a sob of horror. And suddenly he was flashing back to the last time they’d been in bed together. The soft touch of her skin, the beauty of her surrender, her trust in him. The contrast with the current moment made him want to gag. He turned away from her, pacing to the other side of the dining table, putting distance between them. He stood there, holding his head in his hands, grasping for control. 

He could hear her crying behind him. And then her footsteps, hesitant at first and then more confident as she walked toward the front hallway. The door hardly made a sound as she closed it behind her.

Tags:

@charlesdances​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​ @dracula-s-bride​ @haleyea​ @irrelevantwriter​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @festering-queen​ @kaddis-world​ @leah-halliwell92​