#THEN its fair game. bust out the knife

[adriartts]

im back on my bullshit. 9 of him

[azrielwingspan]

RED SERPENT (Mob!Bucky x f!reader)

Chapter 2- Bastards and Pawns

Chapter 1

Summary: King and Queen of New York. The one who knows how to play the game, survives.

Warnings: Violence, mature content, sexual themes, foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not condone any of the actions written in this story.

"Came back at 3am and went to his office." the maid whispered as you cut into your omelette with a silver knife.

"Hmm....pour me a glass of orange juice, will you Betty?"

"Yes, Mrs. Barnes." Your thoughts rang through the silence as you chewed on your omelette, your hunger long gone.

"Oh...and Mr.Barnes hasn't had his breakfast yet." Betty whispered again, her urge to please beyond satisfaction.

Nodding in understanding, you quickly wiped your mouth with a napkin and stood up.

"Thankyou, Betty. You've done well...as always." Giving her a small smile, you grabbed the glass of orange juice and made a beeline towards Bucky's office, a plan forming in your head.

Something had happened last night. Something crucial. You'd stayed up most of the night trying to figure out what could have gone wrong. The security was on high alert and Bucky hadn't returned to the room at all.

Damping down the irritation rearing its head once again, you walked into his office. Sitting there, his lip busted open and stains of blood on his white shirt was your beloved husband.

"Good morning." Walking leisurely, you placed the glass of orange juice on the table. His eyes stalked your every movement as you took a second to scan him all over. He still had his jacket on, the first few buttons on his shirt unbuttoned giving a view of his blood smeared chest. Only James Bucky Buchanan Barnes could look sexy half beaten up.

"I hope the other guy is dead."

A smirk crawled onto Buckys face as he gave a slight nod.

"Good." You redirected your gaze to the documents spread across the table, taking a quick glance at the titles in bold. "When were you going to tell me?" you ask, voice deceptively calm and composed.

The only response from the man was a heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

"I asked you a question, James." your sharp edged voice cut through the silence left behind by your husband.

"I know." his eyes had never left your face, a certain coldness in his gaze.

So this is how he was going to play. Bastard. Over the year, he had come to trust you with his business operations but it was never a hundred percent. Some days, like this, you could see the mistrust and the hesitancy in his eyes. To be fair, if the positions were reversed, you wouldn't have trusted him either. However, you had the innate need to know everything.

Every. Single. Thing.

As they say, knowledge is power.

Letting out a breath and loosening up the tension in your body, you walked around the desk to Bucky's side not breaking eye contact with him. Once you were in front of him, you gave him a small smile and sat down on his lap.

"James darling..my dear husband." Running a knuckle down his face you leaned closer to him, a pulse of satisfaction shooting through you as you saw his eyes darken. His hands were still placed upon the arm rests but you knew he was struggling to hold back. Good.

"I am your wife. Your partner. Your biggest ally." Running a thumb across his split lip, your gaze momentarily dropping and his hands slowly making their way to your hips, you dropped your voice to a whisper.

"So when someone tries to fuck with OUR business, I need to know." His hands gripped onto your hips as you pushed yourself down onto him, the growing tightness beneath his pants making you smug.

"Now tell me.." you continued. "Why did Tony Stark send a hitman after you ?"

His hands loosened immediately, surprise flashing across his features. It was your turn to watch him silently as the cogs in his brain worked. The lust filled haze had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"It doesn't involve you, Y/N." he said sternly. "It goes way back. Old rivalries."

"Hmm." Placing your hands on either side of his face, you made him meet your eyes. "Being a widow doesn't suit me, James. It's...detrimental to my image and capabilities."

Scoffing in amusement, he took his bottom lip between his teeth. You decided to stay silent and let him spill the beans soon.

One...

Two...

Three...

Four...

Five...

A deep breath and...BINGO.

"I blocked one of the more important deals of his life. He would have been unstoppable if it had gone through. But now...he'll never get the opportunity again."

"So you've been trying to kill each ever since?" you asked sarcastically.

Men and their stupid fragile egos.

Bucky held back a laugh as he said "No..I must admit this attack was quite out of the blue."

Your thoughts were going so fast that you barely keep up.

This changes things. This changes everything.

"Well...go take a shower. You need it." You got off of his lap abruptly only to be yanked back.

"Ja—"

“Now doll..I do admire your incessant need to know the ins and outs of my life but I do not appreciate your maid snooping around.” His hands slid down to your ass and grabbed it. “I think she’s done enough. Don’t you think?”

You tried your best to maintain a poker face. Of course he knew. He was the white wolf. He could sniff out bullshit from a mile away.

He must have been satisfied with the look in your eyes because he said “Good. I’ll see you at lunch.” And that was that.

Shooting a cold look at him, you left the room grabbing the glass of orange juice on the way.

The headlights of your car cut through the foggy night barely illuminating the surroundings.

He was late. Idiot.

This was such a delicate game. One wrong move and you could end up dead. That was the thrill of it. So as you waited in the car drumming your fingers against the steering wheel, adrenaline rushing through your veins, you went through the possible outcomes of your actions. All of them equally deadly. Perfect.

A break in the fog ahead of you cut through your thoughts.

Finally. 10 minutes late.

You got out of your car grabbing the envelope of cash with you. Heels clacked against the pavement as you reached one of your pawns.

"Took you long enough." you said sharply, handing over the envelope. "Twenty in cash. The rest in cheque."

A brisk nod followed by "It's always a pleasure doing business with you...Mrs.Barnes." The mocking tone used to address you did not escape your notice.

You smirked at him and his impudence. "I wish I could say the same."

That was that.

Getting back into your car, you watched as Alexander Pierce disappeared once again.

Chapter 3

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hewlloww could you do the “a kink for every Papa” just with the ghouls? So a “kink for every ghoul?”

Have an amazing day you sweet human being. The papas love you <4

Decided to combine these two asks to make it easier on us because there's like thirty ghouls and we'd die if we tried this separately. there's a lot of color because i'm autistic and i deserve to color the post, that's a whole 30 ghouls. - rat

A kink for every Ghoul

CW: CNC for Chain.

Fire Ghouls

Alpha (he/him)

Alpha may not seem like it, but the threat of a knife in bed turns him on. The Fire Ghoul will fight you a bit, but just give in once he feels the bite of the blade in his skin. If you don’t slice him up like swiss cheese he won’t be happy.

Ifrit (he/him)

Ifrit has beautiful tits. Seriously, he’s about to bust out of that uniform of his. Because of those large tits... he is extremely fond of getting on his knees and letting someone fuck them. He loves fucking a nice pair of tits, sure…but it hits different when he’s the one covered in cum.

Sodo (he/him)

Sodo is a big enthusiast of making you bleed. It doesn't matter if it's with his teeth or claws. Obsessively eating you out on your period is also fair game. Just about anything that has to do with blood.

Blaze (he/him; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

His name didn't come from nowhere. Blaze is a big fan of weed. And other drugs. Of course his favorite kind of sex is high sex. But, if you've got any aphrodisiac on hand, he's not gonna be fussy about that. He'll take it like a good boy.

Water Ghouls

Chain (it/ghoul)

Just by looking at it, you can tell that Chain is the kind of ghoul that loves CNC. Ghoul loves being the victim of it, or doing it to someone else. It prefers doing it to someone, though... It loves chasing you through the woods. Smelling your fear and excitement. Shoves you down and uses you as much as ghoul pleases.

Lake (he/him)

Lake might not seem like it at first, but he's actually surprisingly fond of making you squirm in pain. Biting, scratching, some light choking or using toys that will hurt you so good... Yup, you guessed it. Lake is a sadist. And a proud one, at that.

River (they/them)

They’re a whore. Plain and simple. Plenty of dirty dreams in that head of theirs... though they love when those dreams are made worse by someone fucking them in their sleep. Consensually, of course... enthusiastic consent, really. They return the favor as well... watching their partner wake up screaming in pleasure is always fun.

Cowbell (they/it)

They love seeing you in a blindfold. And other forms of sensory depravation, of course, but its favorite is taking your sight. They love watching you tremble and jump whenever it does anything. They loves seeing you squirm from the softest touches. After all, when you can't see, everything else is so much stronger.

Mist (he/she)

Tentacles, plain and simple. Fucking Mist is straight up monsterfucking, since he has tentacles coming out of her cunt. Wanna be egged with those tentacles of hers? All you have to do is ask and he'll stuff you full. Sleeping with Mist is an experience in itself. A rollercoaster of an experience, actually.

Rain (she/he/ve)

She's a very soft person in bed. He can get mean, yes, but ver preference is soft and loving. So soft and so loving, actually, that he wants you to cry from it. There's something so pretty in your tears that she can't resist overstimulating you just a little bit to see those tears again. Rain is definitely a dacryphiliac, though ve'll never admit it.

Storm (they/he; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

Storm is generally very calm. That is, until they're in pain. Then he turns into a whimpering mess, begging for more, like a whore. C'mon. You know you wanna hurt them a little, don't you? Treat this masochistic slut the way he needs to be treated.

Earth Ghouls

Cliff (they/he)

Cliff is a very relaxed, pleasant dude. You'd think he'd be a nice, soft partner in bed, too, but in reality... They love having you tied up. Or cuffed, preferably. Just for a little, so he can rail you stupid enough to not be able to move in general. And then they take care of you, like the loving boyfriend that he is.

Pebble (he/him)

He doesn't really get bothered by his height, especially since it makes bottoming easier and Pebble is an absolute bottom. A cute one. He loves it when his partner (especially if it's the love of his life!) takes care of him. Certified pillow prince.

Ivy (he/xe)

Xe is likely the biggest fan of edging in the world. It's almost a necessity at this point. If it's a cock ring or just shoving him down and sucking him off until xe's whimpering so beautifully. Over and over. And over. Until those pretty eyes are overflowing with tears and just can't anymore.

Mountain (he/him)

Oh, such a innocent little lamb, isn't he? He just loves to be coaxed and taken by someone oh, so dangerous... loves to be corrupted. To be ruined. In both ways. He is the biggest squirmer. Will not stop moving until he's just too fucked out and too filthy. Ruin him and make this little lamb dirty.

Quake (they/them; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

Quake is a very goofy, cheerful and energetic person, who very often just can't stay in one place for too long. That is, of course, unless you're on their lap, keeping their cock inside you. Then they just melt completely and stay put until you decide it's over. They will beg for just a few more minutes, though.

Air Ghouls

Eurus (they/she)

We all know she likes to stare. We've seen them in Year Zero and the studio recordings. Eurus loves to watch and stare. So of course, if you want to fuck someone else (which she's never opposed to, of course!), they'll request to watch. Won't even blink. She wants to see everything you do. Might jerk off in her seat as they observe their pretty darling railing someone else... or getting railed, preferably.

Zephyr (they/he)

Zephyr is possessive. Not just a little. They claim it’s instinct. However, nothing gets them riled up more than seeing the marks he left on your skin from your passionate late night sex. Though they get even more insistent on marking if someone else left their marks behind. Just as a reminder who you really belong to... and those bruises and bitemarks look so good on his lover.

Cirrus (she/ze)

Ze's a big enthusiast of using both her dick and her cunt (as well as mouth and those really well trained fingers) just to make you completely stupid. No matter what genitals you have, she'll fuck you brainless. And then ze's gonna coo at you, fawning over how cute you are when you're such a blabbering mess like that, and all of it just for her! Cirrus absolutely adores having you overstimulated.

Cumulus (she/her)

We all (well me) love her chest. So it's a very pleasant surprise to find out that they lactate with just a smallest bit of stimulation. If you really wanna drive her crazy, have your fingers or a strap inside her as you suck on her tits. Bonus points if you team up with Cirrus and then take care of our dearest Cumulus.

Tornado (ze/zir; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

We can't talk about Air Ghouls and not have at least one of them mess around with your breathing abilities, now can we? Fortunately for us, Tornado loves breath play. Sometimes it's just a light squeeze. Sometimes you almost think this maniac will actually suffocate you. Ze knows your limits, though, so it never gets out of control. The thrill is a very nice bonus to fucking zir, though.

Quintessence Ghouls

Omega (he/him)

Look at him. Look at this huge motherfucker. Pretty much anyone is tiny compared to him. And he loves that. He loves seeing your stomach bulge when you're full of him. He loves seeing how you struggle to take as much of him as you can. He loves how your face ends up stuffed in his chest as you straddle him because of his stupid huge cock. The size kink is strong with this one.

Delta (they/it)

Delta admittedly jokes about their missing limbs. One of said jokes was how easy it’d be to tie it up... the day it goes from joke to reality? Oh they’re on cloud nine. Turns out it was very into doing shibari on others before the limb loss... turning the tables on them? Well... it has a very pleasant night tied up all pretty with nowhere to go.

Aether (he/him)

Listen. I've always said he's got arms made for hugging, hands made for choking and a cock made for warming. I stand by that. His hands look and feel like they were meant for your throat. And you love it. It's best while he's got you in a reverse cowgirl position in front of a mirror, riding yourself stupid as he lightly squeezes your throat. But he's not picky. As long as you let him choke you a little.

Phantom (he/they/xey/it)

Spiritually, Phantom is a bit like a puppy when it comes to excitement. He gets really excited and it shows. They usually show it through playful nibbles. But... you wanna know what absolutely makes xem lose its mind? Praise. Phantom can die happily after being praised for how good he's doing for you. Praise them and it'll do absolutely everything for you. Xey can probably be praised into a happy, tearful orgasm like this.

Chaos (he/she/they/it; Papa Nihil's Ghoul)

If you've read the Papa Nihil's Ghouls post, you know she was dragged around on a leash a few times. The issue is, he actually loved that and now they demand to be kept on a leash... So yup, that evolved into a pet play kink. It will bark at you completely unprovoked for completely no reason and will continue being a menace until you handle it. So there's a pet play and brat taming combo here.

Multi Ghoul

Swiss (he/xey/it)

This bitch. Bully it. Swiss loves being bullied and degraded. It always makes both xeir cunt and cock drip with pre-cum. Keep him on his knees. Keep xem on a leash. Mock it for being so fucking eager to be pretty much verbally abused. You can probably get xem to cum untouched if you're mean enough.

Phil (he/him)

Phil is not a kinky guy, honestly. He's just... very vanilla. If you're with him long enough, you finally get to hear him mumble out the word mommy... And you absolutely fucking lose it with him. You don't let him live it down, obviously. He gets absolutely flustered every time you use his mommy kink against him.

Sunshine (she/her)

Sunshine's favorite thing about having a penis is having it buried inside their partner (she especially likes people with cunts since it shows really nicely), having them in her lap in a reverse cowgirl position and just... watching it all in the mirror in front of you both. Obligatory bites while she's at it, of course.

Aurora (she/they/fae)

While she doesn't mind being a pillow princess when bottoming, faer absolutely favorite thing is disinterest. She loves playing with your body and then scoffing and telling you to keep quiet. They absolutely love having you ride their thigh or rutting against it while she does other things. Fae just absolutely adores when you get whiney and start pleading for just a bit of her attention, even if you know they'll shame and degrade you for it.

~

Alpha, Ifrit, River, Zephyr and Delta written by Death.

Sodo, Blaze, Lake, Rain, Mist, Storm, Cliff, Pebble, Quake, Eurus, Cirrus, Cumulus, Tornado, Omega, Aether, Chaos, Phantom, Swiss, Sunshine, Phil and Aurora by Nosferatu.

Chain, Cowbell, Ivy and Mountain written by Zenith/Jasper.

Edited by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @dio-niisio @the-fem1n1ne-urge @mybotanicaldemise @igodownjustlikeholymary @natoncesaid @bloodmoon-bites @plaquerat

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is retired. Yes, he's a little young to have retired, but he lost Eleanor and had Robin to take care of, so he decided to get out of the mob game.

He didn't want Robin to brought up in the life. So he let the smartest of his people (Matthew, Lucienne, Cori......let's be honest, Joanna) buy him out and he took Robin and left the area.

All this is so say, he's out. He has fucking goats and sheep (*sigh* Robin likes the sheep, he has to get permission from his kid to shear them. How the mighty have fallen!) He's not busting heads or shooting people in the f'ing face anymore; he's teaching high school; Robin is thriving; and Hob is flirting with the very cute (mysterious) art teacher, Dream.

Everything is good. Hob is keeping his head down and suppressing his more stabby impulses. Then someone HURTS Dream.

Dream won't tell him who or why, but Hob is patient. He will find out,,,and he will rain terror on those who hurt his Dream. /He also may use it opportunisticly to have Dream move in to the farm.

Hob knows he looks good chopping the wood for the fireplace,,, with his shirt off (okay, okay, with a very tight short sleeve shirt on.)

AJAJSSJAH ex mob Hob is wonderful, I love him, and I need him to stab everyone who has ever hurt Dream in alphabetical order.

Imagine the shenanigans. Hob has just finished taking out a hit on one of the people who hurt his Dream, and this one got messy. Hob has only just finished disposing of the body when Dream comes knocking at the door! So Hob has to desperately hide the knife he just used to gut the guy like a fish, and strip himself out of his bloody shirt. He answers the door with no shirt on and he can't even appreciate the fact that Dream is definitely looking 👀 because he's worried that his secret is about to be discovered! In reality Dream is just there with his little suitcase ready to move in to Hob’s place because now he's terrified that the people who kidnapped him all those years ago are after him again. He's not to know that they're all dead now!

Dream is such a lovely house guest. He delivers AND picks Robin up from school when Hob is busy on the farm (shooting the guys who used to work for Burgess in the face). He cooks! He can only make mac and cheese but Robin loves mac and cheese! It's perfect! He even leans in the doorway of Hob’s farmhouse and watches Hob chopping wood while wearing one of his cute white undershirts (which has some quite suspicious red/brown stains on it but pfffft Dream isn't looking at THAT).

But Dream isn't stupid - he knows that Hob is more than just a farmer and a high-school teacher. He also knows that all his enemies have mysteriously disappeared. He can't help but link those two things together. Especially when he knows that Hob is absolutely DEADLY with an axe.

So he tells himself when he sinks down to his knees and mouths Hob’s cock through his underwear - its just a one time thing. He's just saying thank you. Hob deserves a little TLC.

Needless to say. It's not a one time thing. And Dream doesn't seem to be planning to move out of Hob’s place any time soon. Well, it wouldn't be fair now Robin is so attached to him! And it's fair to say that Hob fucks with just as much skill as he uses to hurt the people who hurt his darling.

[sam-glade]

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

Give me an infodump >:3

15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?

Thank you, Feather 💜 Answering in reverse order, since the info dump will get lengthy ;)

(For the Pride ask game)

15. Do any of your ocs use neopronouns? Which ones?

None at the moment, unless you count the Sun King using He/Him as opposed to he/him (or They/Them, depending on the time period), analogously to the Judeo-Christian God ;).

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

Tl;dr: the Sunblessed Realm has always, throughout its history, been a queer-normative society, so the idea of a 'queer' identity doesn't exist in the same way as in the real world - i.e. defined in opposition to the allocishet norm.

Sexual orientation:

The assumption in the setting is that you're pansexual/bisexual unless otherwise specified (and that's a fair assumption for my characters. Being attracted to a particular gender is pretty comparable to simply having a strong type, so letting someone down by saying 'sorry, I'm not into men' is polite enough, though of course people can still get salty and disappointed ;)

On a personal preference note, I like to define my characters as having a preference (strong or weak or none at all) for masculinity/femininity, so a character who in our world would consider himself a gay man isn't going to have second thoughts about having some fun with a drag king or a very masc woman. He may decide he's not 100% into that, but hey, it was worth a try.

And yes, there are no gender restrictions on marriage or on adoption. We also have at least one example of a polycule on page from a recurring character (Renna of the Sixth Tree), though I didn't need to figure out how the wedding ceremony works then. Yet (eyeing The Truth Teller warily)

Relatedly, given the in theory indefinite lifespan, averaging around 270-300 years, during the period from reaching adulthood at 35 to the cusp of their first century people are free to experiment and decide what they want out of life. Family? Adventure? Are they more of free spirits and don't want to settle anywhere? This also covers what sort of relationships they want.

Gender identity:

I'm using the baseline of 3% of people being genderqueer - it's really hard to find reliable statistics, since it's impossible to tell if the respondents are being honest. That still means that if you live even in a small rural community of 70-100 people, you will probably know a couple of genderqueer folks, so while it's rarer than being cis, it's still fairly common knowledge. It certainly helps that Anthea, a head of state, is trans and that's public knowledge.

Children (up until the age of 35) are considered genderless. Only when they reach adulthood, they choose a name for themselves, which tends to be gendered, thus declaring 'hey, I'm a man/woman/something else/both/neither'. As a rule of thumb, feminine names end in -a or -is, masculine in -m or -n, though it's just a custom, not a requirement, and people from other regions (e.g. Nikols) won't follow it. More on the coming of age ceremony here.

Fashion is also different between genders, in that it tends to highlight the physical appearance and characteristics people tend to find appealing about the given gender. Hence, women's gowns will be slightly cinched at the waist, emphasising the hips, while men's will make their shoulders look a little broader. This also means that trans women can easily add rolls around hips and pad their bodices to have more of an hourglass silhouette, while trans mascs... 🥲 *Cries over a bust too big for a binder*

Ehm, anyway. Gender non-conformity is also considered not scandalous, so we've got e.g. Erya, who's by our standards a butch, never wearing jewellery, and if you tell her to put on a skirt you run a serious risk of ending up with a knife in your gut.

Other than that, the current (as of Days of Dusk) fashion is that men are clean shaven. Hair length is correlated to digital status more than gender, not none of these are hard and fast rules.

Aromanticism and asexuality

Again, it's hard to tell how common these identities are irl, but I wager that more than 9 in 10 people enjoys romance, and so we've got some courting rituals as you might expect. It's not impolite to try flirting with someone and be told 'no' without an explanation (not into you? not into this sort of relationship at all? just not looking for anyone right now?), but it would be rude to press the advances further.

As for anyone ace, there are at least two notable figures who haven't entered into a long-term romantic relationship even once over their millennia-long lives (the Prince of the West and Claren the Nightingale, Ianim's tutor), so that hopefully sends enough of a message that you don't need to pair up with someone to have a fulfilling life. Also, given the long lifespan, I imagine a lot of people (e.g. parents who want grandkids) accepting that there's no need to rush to get married and have children. Maybe their child will change their mind later in life. Maybe they'll form other bonds and e.g. become the glue that keeps a community together.

It's also worth mentioning that sex work is legal and regulated by a guild, much like any other trade, so if anyone is wondering 'do I like sex at all' can easily go to a brothel to find out. Similarly, aromantic allosexuals (*cough* Gullin *cough*) may be frequent clients.

[coconurt]

Rottmnt Cassandra Writing Ref

So this is basically just a compendium of all of Cass's lines slapped into one place for me and @owlfacenightkit to use for reference cuz she's hard af to write lol

Quotes under the cut:

Hot Soup: The Game

Lieutenant: You have shown great skill as a new recruit of the Foot Clan. Your final test is a mission you must complete entirely on your own.

Cassandra: Excellent. What enemy of our clan am I to CRUSH BETWEEN MY FISTS?

Brute: No crushing. You are here to retrieve a mysterious artifact that was said to be in the possession of action film star Lou Jitsu.

Lieutenant: He was the best!

Brute: Oh yeah! Jitsu For Justice, that’s my favorite. It’s the movie that got me interested in crime.

Lieutenant: Ooh and Punch Chowder, he defeats an entire organized crime mob using clam shells as his only weapons.

Both: Hop soup!

Cassandra: Hai, Senseis. I will study these important motion pictures.

Brute: Anyhoo, you are to enter the auction house and retrieve any Lou Jitsu merchandise.

Cassandra: I will tear this place asunder until I find every Lou Jitsu item within its walls!

Lieutenant: Okay okay okay. Love the intensity, but let’s just go stealth. No muss, no fuss.

Cassandra: Foot CLAN!

Lieutenant: Somebody had her coffee.

…

Cassandra: Who are you? What are you doing here?

Mikey: I’m a customer, here to pick up my Lou Jitsu video game.

Cassandra: Lou... Jitsu?

Mikey: Are you narrowing your eyes because you like Lou Jitsu?

Cassandra: LOU JITSUU...! Yes Punch Chowder is my favorite motion picture film movie.

Mikey: Okay. Well then... What the?

Cassandra: I shall return. Stay here and do nothing.

Lieutenant: Recruit, what’s wrong?

Cassandra: There’s someone here. A talking turtle. And he is asking about Lou Jitsu merchandise.

Lieutenant: Those turtles again? They must be after the artifact, too.

Brute: Oh yeah, you’re gonna need help. We’ll be right over-

Lieutenant: No. You know the rules. To pass, she must complete her mission by herself.

Cassandra: Senseis, permission to vanquish his soul to the depths of oblivion?

Brute: Yeah sure.

…

Mikey: Hey, what’s the big idea?

Cassandra: An enemy of the Foot must perish. You will not claim the artifact!

Mikey: But I have a receipt! Is this how you normally treat customers? Ow! Cause if it is I’d like to speak to your supervisor! I’m not paying for that! Hey, it’s my game. You’re getting that soup, Lou baby. Solo mission complete.

Cassandra: Lou Jitsu. The artifact... GIVE IT TO ME!

Mikey: I said I own it fair and square.

…

Mikey: Yes Raph, I’m fine. I got everything under control!

Cassandra: I have the artifact! And you won't leave until I smash your shell into powder!

…

Cassandra: You can't hit me!

…

Cassandra: Knife throw!

…

Brute: Hello you. How’s everything going?

Cassandra: It’s under control. I’LL BE OUT IN A MINUTE! You’re finished, turtle scum!

…

Cassandra: Ha! Solo mission complete.

Brute: We’re here to rescue you.

Cassandra: NO! I had it in my hands. I was literally ready to leave. What part of "by myself" don’t you understand?

…

Lieutenant: Wait a minute? That is not the artifact we seek.

Cassandra: It’s the only Lou Jitsu thing here.

Lieutenant: Well then your mission is a bust... on a technicality of course. But don’t be discouraged. The road to success is paved with miles of failure.

Cassandra: I shall prove I am worthy next time!

Operation: Normal

April: Again? Come on, Leo. Ruining my normal day and laser tag? Laser tag is sacred.

Cassandra: Beyond sacred. How could you?

...

[Brute lands on top of Cassandra]

Cassandra: I shall require medical attention...

...

Brute: The dark armor is almost complete.

Cassandra: We are one step closer to its dark power. SO DARK! So powerful...

Sparring Partner

Cassandra: A pressing development sensei!

Lieutenant: Let me guess. You want to smash and/or demolish something?

Cassandra: No! I mean okay if you insist! I have spotted one of our origami soldiers loose in the city.

Lieutenant: What was he doing out there alone?

Cassandra: Attacking! May I join him in wiping out peasants one speck at a time?

…

Cassandra: Don't make us pulverize your guts into gut bits. Give us back our origami man!

Raph: Of course he was yours, but now he seems more like a free agent, so you can just go home. Thanks though!

Cassandra: We will do nothing of the sort, you are so not reading our tone.

…

Raph: He's my new best friend, and if anyone wants to take away my buddy, they gotta come through me.

Cassandra: Touching! And in case you couldn't tell, that was sarcasm!

Lieutenant: We could never let you keep him! Shred him, recruit!

Cassandra: My extreme pleasure.

How to Make Enemies and Bend People to Your Will

Draxum: Pure insanity.

Cassandra: Yes. I can’t believe they promoted Jocelyn over me. I know her parents are big donors, but come on!

…

Draxum: What is this place? Are we here to reign waste to these pathetic humans?

Cassandra: No. We’re here to get coffee for the entire Foot Clan. And a vegan coconut scone for the boss.

Draxum: Draxum is no errand boy.

Cassandra: To become a full member of the foot, one must show commitment, and patience. I have been training since I was seven!

Draxum: Madness! Baron Draxum takes what he needs now!

Cassandra: I have been doing this all wrong.

Draxum: Indeed. Waiting is for fools.

…

Brute: We’re putting you on Strike Squad Special Force Delta.

Cassandra: I was born for Strike Squad Special Force Delta. I shall CLEAVE OUR FOES IN TWAIN!

Lieutenant: Okay okay, love the enthusiasm, but actually your assignment is....

[scene wipe]

Cassandra: Lookout support duty. We’re the lookouts for the lookouts?

Draxum: This is beneath us both.

Cassandra: You know, I was accepted to every clan I applied to.

Draxum: With my powers, I could be in charge of this clan. Surely there must be some way to take control from them.

Cassandra: Hah, unlikely. According to our laws, one can only take control of the Foot Clan by succeeding where the leaders have failed. And my senseis do not fail.

Draxum: We shall see.

…

Draxum: What’s going on there?

Cassandra: Hai. I will alert the lookouts. CAW! CAW!

Draxum: Stop that! If we want to improve our ranks, we must handle this ourselves.

The turtles: Smell it smell it smell it!

Draxum: What are they doing?

Cassandra: No doubt a cunning plan to disrupt our mission to get the dark armor?

…

Cassandra: This must be a trap. But if there’s one thing I learned from you, it’s that we get nothing from waiting! FOOT CLAN! Vermin, prepare to taste my wrath.

Cassandra: [coughs] This… was… a... trap...

Leo: No. That was all you.

Mikey: Wow. She went all in on the stink. Nice work, frenemy.

Cassandra: YAAHH!!

…

Lieutenant: Get them!

Cassandra: I will grind you into fertilizer!

Harold: The corpse flower! Protect the begonias. I’ll go save Jewel! This is what you've been training for, Harold.

Cassandra: You will never stop us from collecting the dark armor!

…

Draxum: Would you like to do the honors?

Cassandra: Kali Ma!

...

Lieutenant: So, Draxum! We have some good news about your future in this organization.

Brute: Oh yeah. Really good news.

Draxum: Silence.

Cassandra: Assistant? But I thought we were partners.

Insane in the Mama Train

Cassandra: Hey! You’re holding up the line!

April: Oh, okay!

[April catches up with the Foot and onto the train.]

Cassandra: I swear the greatest threat to this ancient mystic clan is line inefficiency. Now move... PLEASE?!

…

Cassandra: I’m going to enjoy breaking every single bone- Is there something different about you guys?

Lieutenant: Yeah. They’re even lamer than before.

Cassandra: The sickest of burns!

Lieutenant: Whatever happened to hero-villain banter?

…

Cassandra: Hey! You guys are gonna pay for this!

...

Cassandra: [fends off an attack] Not me, you idiot!

...

Cassandra: [playfully intercepts Raph and giggles] Nuh uh...

…

Lieutenant: Uh oh.

Cassandra: Where is everybody?!

Many Unhappy Returns

Cassandra: [appears out of a portal] Senseis! My fury is unbridled and ready for-

Cassandra: [gasps] You resurrected the Shredder without me?!

Always Be Brownies

Julia: Boss, I know sales are down. But you got to believe me. It’s not my fault. There’s this new super cool hairy teen in skinny jeans slinging cookies like rocks.

Cassandra: Cookies?! The peasants of desserts are beating my brownies?! THIS WILL NOT STAND!

Julia: Excellent. I shall crush our chocolate chip enemies between my fists.

Cassandra: No! Bring them to me. These fashion-forward punks are either going to work for me or they’ll NEVER GO TO WORK AT ALL!

…

Cassandra: Do not lie to me, Lou Jitsu! I know you’re here to stop my world takeover!

Splinter: World takeover?

Cassandra: YES!

Splinter: As grandma CJ?

Cassandra: Brownies are the key. You sell enough you, get to meet everyone. Fortune 500 CEO's, mayors, world leaders. Once everyone knows our brand, we’ll be able to get into any office in the world. Even the oval one.

Splinter: Sounds complicated. How long is this going to take?

Cassandra: Based on my projections and facing inflation and natural disasters of the cocoa region, it should only take… ten years?!

[She begins to cry]

…

Cassandra: [blows nose] You know, those foot clan guys, they never really treated me right, but we were doing cool stuff. You know, like trying to raise the Shredder. You do that, and you're top dog. The world is your oyster to crush. Now I’m looking at brownie projections and watching the next ten years just bake by. I’m a failure.

Splinter: Just because you failed doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You’re focusing only on the negative, not the positive.

Cassandra: What do you mean?

…

Cassandra: [blows nose] Thank you so much. You’re such a great listener.

Splinter: I feel like I did most of the talking.

Cassandra: I feel like things are gonna be different now on. From this day forward...

Splinter: You’re going to start being a good person...?

Cassandra: ...nobody will stand in my way to world domination!

Splinter: Wrong lesson! Wrong lesson!

...

Cassandra: You’ve taken out my entire Brownie clan. Impressive.

April: Let him go.

Cassandra: Make me.

Splinter: Everyone calm down. I’m sure we can all find a way to get along.

Cassandra: Enough! Talk's cheap.

April: I couldn't agree more.

Splinter: See how much you have in common?

April and Cassandra: No, we don't. She's my enemy!

Splinter: Need I say more?

April: Give me back my money and the rat.

Cassandra: How about I let him go but I keep the money.

…

Lou Jitsu: There is no one path to success, other than the one you make. If a popular punch isn’t working, approach your problem with a flaming gorilla armbar!

Cassandra: Yes! Teach me how to armbar my way to world domination!

Battle Nexus: New York

Splinter: I don't know. Todd's lemonade especially tastes pretty real to me.

Cassandra: And magical as promised.

…

April: My friends!

Splinter: My sons!

Todd: My BFFS!

Cassandra: My enemies!

Draxum: Told ya.

…

Cassandra: Leap of faith! [jumps and falls off the boat]

Draxum: Oh look, a ladder.

…

Big Mama: I don't think so!

Cassandra: Intercepting!

…

Cassandra: Master?

Big Mama: Ignore the turtles. Follow the warrior alchemist!

Cassandra: So that's how…

Draxum: No!

…

Cassandra: There is no Shadow Fiend… only…

Raph: What? Uh oh.

[Shadow Fiend's cloak is torn off to reveal Shredder.]

Cassandra: The Shredder!!

Cassandra: Master Shredder, destroy your enemies.

…

Cassandra: The turtles are of no concern to us, but you enslaved my master. Now you will lose everything! I'd run if I were you.

[The Nexus Hotel explodes as Cassandra flies off with the Shredder.]

Cassandra: FOOT CLAN!

E-Turtle Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Cassandra: Master Shredder. You have returned to us after 500 years. The Foot Clan can finally fulfill our mission and do your dark bidding.

…

Cassandra: [angrily snatches the apple slices from Brute's hand] How dare you?! The Shredder is our master.

Cassandra: [furiously shoves the slices in her mouth] You will respect his DARKNESS!!

…

Cassandra: Enough!

Cassandra: I found Shredder, I will decide our next move. And I say we remove this collar and bring him back to his full Shredder-ness!

…

Cassandra: Stupid mystic collar! Oof!

[Cassandra falls over right off the Shredder. Brute and Lieutenant eat ice cream.]

Lieutenant: Still want to be in charge?

Cassandra: Zero regrets!

Shreddy or Not

Foot Lieutenant: So it's just kind of the three of us at the moment.

Cassandra: But we have the will of thousands!

Cassandra: [enthusiastically hugs Shredder] Tell us your bidding.

…

Splinter: I can't believe you're back with these Foot clowns! You could be so much more than that!

Cassandra: I am loyal to the Foot and Master Shredder. FOOT CLAN!

Rise

Cassandra: [trying to get Brute and Lieutenant out of the rubble] Master Shredder, our comrades are injured.

Shredder: Forget them, you are my new general now. Come.

…

Splinter: Having doubts, young one?

Cassandra: I am having zero doubts. I am a general now. It's everything I have ever wanted and it's... perfect.

…

Shredder: You dare defy me, general?

Cassandra: The name's Cassandra. Cassandra Jones!

…

Splinter: My family. Thank you, Cassandra.

Cassandra: My friends call me Casey.

Some notes:

This girl is a freaking badass

I wish we'd gotten a canon age for her

I digress

Uses very formal language (i.e. very rarely uses contractions in speech, etc)

Used "shall" six times throughout the series

Extremely enthusiastic statements. Caps and italics definitely called for when writing her

Uses mostly short, choppy sentences. When writing, must refrain from flowy, long-winded dialogue, sweeping declarations, etc.

I feel like, when written out, the bulk of her normal speech (i.e. that's NOT shouted exclamations) is kinda less extreme than you'd expect it to be. Aside from being pretty formal most of the time, it's just. Pretty normal speech.

And that's it! If you're NOT Owl and you're somehow still reading this, thanks! Hope this helps! And if I've made any errors or omissions, let me know!

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: II

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: (future as well as present) violence, angst, smut, fluff, language

A/N: Is that a backstory and angst I smell??

Masterlist

Geralt was enjoying the spring afternoon when she started yelling at him…or at least she tried.

“Ah you’re awake,” he replied to her gagged screams. She was squirming behind him, probably trying to get out of the well placed knots he had tied to ensure she wouldn’t get away when she did finally wake up. He noticed Roach getting restless, annoyed both with the extra passenger and her lack of manners, so Geralt gave her a little shove, sending her toppling to the ground. She hit the ground with a thud and flipped over to glare at him.

If she hadn’t been mad before, she definitely was now. In the fall her gag had come lose and now he was being subject to ever single word she had to say. So much for enjoying the afternoon.

“I should fucking kill you, you fucking coward. Where do you get off kidnapping me?” she howled, struggling against the binds. When she failed, dangerous eyes flashed at him and she snarled. “Let me go now, and I promise I won’t kill you.”

“You’re not really in the position for bargaining.”

“Yet.”

“Say I let you go, what then?”

“I’ll join a convent and repent and pray to God every day,” she began before bursting into laughter and laying in the grass. “I thought I could say it, but even your horse knew that was horse shit, I’m going to go back to where I came from and make some money.”

“Then I can’t let you go.”

“What’s it to you anyways?”

“People already don’t trust Witchers, it’s not going to get any better if word gets around that one is robbing a town of its money.”

“I won it fair and square, no robbery required.”

“Of course, fair and square, with nothing but a genetic mutation on your side.” She sent him another glare, trying to subtly slide the ropes from her legs. “If you try running, I’ll catch you.”

“Oh please, last time you got lucky.”

“No, you underestimated me.”

“Well when you look like that I’m not exactly wowed,” she sneered.

“You talk big game for being the one tied.”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been tied up, c’mon being the only female Witcher who isn’t dying through the trials is sure to make me some enemies. Don’t worry, I took care of them.”

“The only female Witcher?”

“Oh, you haven’t been keeping up with your old school I see. We’re kind of a new idea, most of us die off, actually all of us died off, except me, I lived out of spite. And now I’m being harassed by another Witcher who thinks he’s got some holy purpose, well it turns out you don’t. Go, do whatever you want, stop killing monsters and make a good life for yourself, but before you do all that untie me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” she growled, struggling with the knots a little more frantically now.

“They hired me to get rid of you, if I let you go you’ll just go back, and then they’ve wrongfully paid me, plus they think you’re dead.”

“They think I’m what?” she yelled.

“Dead, I told them you were.”

“Then why aren’t I?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Anything is better than being babysat by some holier-than-thou, thousand-year-old, Witcher who wouldn’t know how to have fun if it sprouted out of his big toe.” Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, considering if he should have killed her in that alley. “Why do you want me around anyway?” His anger fizzled away for a moment at that question. It sounded just as biting as the rest, but something else had slithered into her tone, a sliver of self-deprecation perhaps? And it made him think, why did he take her, why when she was nothing but agony in his side did he bother bringing her with him.

“Because I want to know you,” he said and she snorted. She was laughing at him without a care in the world.

“Why on earth would you want to know me.”

“Consider it a study, you’re the first witcher I’ve met who didn’t go right to work, who didn’t take the weight of the world upon yourself and work yourself into nothing but blood and rust mixing with the dirt.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Maybe not to you, but all I heard was, a witcher who knows how to enjoy life.” He snarled and she laughed. “If you��re going to study me you should probably untie me.”

“How about you answer some of my questions and then I untie you.” She considered it for a moment, weighing the pros and cons before she brightened with a grin.

“I’m an open book.” He climbed off his horse and ungracefully pulled her over to a boulder, perching her on top of it. He tied Roach to a tree and took a seat on his own stump.

“How long have you been out of the academy?”

“A couple weeks.”

“How old are you?”

“Geralt, you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age,” she teased, ignoring the annoyed look he sent her. “22, in real time.”

“Young to be a Witcher.”

“Like I said, I’m special,” she sneered.

“What do you mean by special.”

“Fuck if I know, that’s just what they told me.”

“Do you have a guess.”

“A few.”

“Are you going to share?”

“Are you going to make me?”

“No.”

“Then I think I would like to keep it to myself.” He nodded sharply before continuing.

“How long were you in that town.”

“The moment they let me go.”

“Did you try to leave before then.”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“How do you know I succeeded?”

“The scars above your collar.”  Subconsciously, she raised her shoulders, shifting her collar to cover the pink scars.

“They’re not from escaping, they did other things for escaping, but I tried to go home. I thought I could go back to living with my mother after she sold me out. Guess I was wrong, she sold me out again and got another purse of gold for her trouble. Then they locked me in a box, told me what being caged really felt like.”

“What are the scars from?”

“Various other incidents.”

“So, you were a regular problem then?”

“Of course.”

“Anything in particular stand out?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean any crimes that were really heinous.”

“I killed an instructor once, it was an accident but it still happened.” Geralt didn’t continue for a moment, reading the look of regret on her face. She smiled at him, almost exhausted, praying that he wouldn’t ask her to discuss it further.

“What about the boys at school, did they torment you?”

“All the time, I got used to it.”

“How bad did it get?”

“One time they cornered me late at night, held a knife to my throat and dragged me to the window. They wanted me to admit I was a whore, that I was sleeping with our instructors. I wouldn’t say it though, they threatened me for what seemed like hours, pushing me just a little too far before yanking me back inside, letting my feet slip against the windowsill. They wanted me to beg and scream for help.”

“Did you say it?”

“No.”

“And what happened?”

“They dropped me. I thought I was as good as dead, but I refused to scream, even on the way down. I hit a snow drift and walked away unscathed. They thought I would leave that night so I am pleased to say they were shocked to see me walk in the next day ready to fight.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“If I had told someone they would know exactly who shoved him down the stairs two nights later. His nose is still busted, well was.”

“Was?”

“He was one of the lucky fellows who tried to get rid of me before you came along. He’s the only one it was a pleasure to kill.”

“How many did you kill?”

“Five.” Geralt clenched his fists, she had killed five witchers, more than any monster or mage could claim and he was allowing her to live. Why was he letting her live? “Any other questions?”

“How did you feel when you killed them?”

“Terrible. I buried them, gave each of them a proper burial, except my tormentor of course. I tried to get them to leave me alone, to leave but they just wouldn’t go away. I begged them yknow, pleaded while they tried to kill me. I just wanted to be free but they saw nothing but my blood on their silver bladed sword. Until you came along of course.” He stayed silent, watching her shifting in her bindings.

“Why don’t you want to be a witcher?”

“It was an accident I became one, a curse from God. I should have died, they were willing to let me die. I’m not going to come close to death because of them ever again, not the school, the King, or God himself can make me.”

“What about me.” She glanced at him and grinned but said nothing. He reached over and sliced her bindings with the knife she had stabbed him with the day prior. “Don’t run off, we’re heading towards the moors tomorrow.”

 She was gone the next morning.

Taglist: @stuckupstucky​ @aurora-sweet​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire​

[yanderesleuth]

Yandere Simulator - A Sleuth's Blunt and Honest Review

Hello everyone! The sleuth is back and she is ready to give you her blunt and honest review of Yandere Simulator. I’ve been wanting to do this for SO long but I simply did not have a computer strong enough to do a fair and accurate review. Recently, I was able to get a decent laptop and the demo installed fairly quickly – perhaps 8 to 10 minutes.

To those who may be new to this blog, I started following the development in 2015/2016(?) when I first saw a gameplay by Markiplier, and I am one of many that has watched Yandere Simulator transform from bare-bones to this STUNNING atmosphere with tons of different gameplay options. I am so proud of how far this game has come, and I appreciate YandereDev and his volunteers for busting their asses every day and sticking with the development. I will be going through what is likely common knowledge, but I’m rather late to the game and I apologize.

The main menu is unique! I’m not the most knowledgeable gamer out there, but I have never seen one quite like this before. Pressing start creates a rather fast zoom towards Ayano, who is holding a love letter behind her back. After you defeat your rival, you can see a visual of the specific method you used in the background. (ie. Osana’s bloody body hanging out of the fan; I don’t want to provide a screen shot of this, so just pretend.) Last I heard, not every elimination had a specific visual yet, but I’m not sure if this is still true or not. The menu is very easy to read, and you are currently allowed three different game files. You are unable to use the easter eggs/debug cheats until you have eliminated your rival once, which is a nice touch.

The introduction cutscene is quite compelling and it grabs your attention easily. I noticed that the large flash of various images are now in a photograph format and gradually piles up in the middle of the screen (if that makes sense); I feel that the previous format, image after image, was a bit more thrilling. Though, I appreciate the current look, as it hints that you will be taking pictures in the game, at one point or another.

One question I have: It’s canon that Ryoba kidnapped Ayano’s father and tied him to a chair in her basement (as told by the basement tape.) Yet in the cutscene, it shows them under the cherry tree, holding hands. Is this simply a daydream of Ayano’s? Is she truly aware of how her parents got together?

The game runs VERY smooth overall; it is a little choppy in spots, but the performance is much better from what I remember. Out of force of habit, I adjusted my settings anyway; I’m personally not a fan of the outlines on each character. I’m not sure why; it’s just a preference for me. For the sake of this review, I chose an elimination method that I have never tried before: Expel. I believe that choosing a method that I’m well-rehearsed in would not make this a very fair review, and it would not represent the challenges in the game.

The current small town holds a variety of shops – hardware, games, lingerie, and even a small restaurant to earn money. (I’ve played it in the past and it’s pretty fun.) It has a lovely ambience to it, with perky music in the background and several familiar faces roaming the street. Despite being unable to adjust my settings or access my phone in general, the town still runs great on my new laptop. You are automatically given $10 at the beginning of the game, and I chose to buy the stealthy black underwear, to limit students’ range of sight.

I’m thrilled to learn that there are more ways to receive points for Info-Chan’s services. The bug mechanic is genius and is a lot more convenient for players. With this feature, you can receive fifty points per day. And for any other extra points you may need, you can ‘sneak’ panty shots.

The first (minor) complaint I have is the controls for taking photos. When you have a laptop with no actual buttons, and no mouse, it’s impossible to do so. I had to take my mouse from my Yamcha PC in order to take the lewd pictures on Osana’s phone, and for the vandalism of the vending machine. Aside from this, the expel method is very interesting, and I admit that I was a bit scared stealing the answer sheet. I had gotten caught once because I placed the radio too close to the door, but I was able to go back and successfully steal the sheet.

The second, not-so-small complaint I have is regarding the ring theft from Sakyu Basu. I had the WORST time stealing it! I learned rather quickly that for whatever reason, I could not distract Sakyu. I could not interact with her at all. She just sat there, eating lunch. I tried bang snaps, simply sneaking up on her to grab the ring, and even joining the drama club for a mask with the intention of just grabbing it and running. Each time, I would get the ‘don’t touch that’ dialogue and never got a chance to take it again. Out of frustration, I tried stealing it while INKYU was distracted and it worked!

The third and the biggest complaint is SNAP mode; I have been anticipating this for years. First, I will say that this feature is absolutely terrifying, and the concept is everything I imagined and more. Ayano finally loses her sanity, to the point of no return and you are free to eliminate anyone and everyone in your path, within a time limit. The objective of snap mode is to obtain a knife and kill Senpai, since he has discovered your true nature and he will never love you.

Unfortunately, SNAP mode hardly worked for me and I eventually had to close out of the game. I got the game over on the roof top at lunch time, and I got the command to find the knife. I would venture through the school to try to do so, and would press the space bar to transport a little further, but I would get static and teleport to the same exact spot I was at on the roof! I learned that eliminating students in my path would buy me time to search further into the school, but eventually, I ran out of students and I was stuck on the roof.

But… I have faith that the ring bug and the snap mode bug will be fixed.

After Osana’s expulsion, I admit that I am rather intrigued by this method and may actually use it in the final product. Senpai’s sanity will be playing a major part in the game, and it will be very interesting to see when it is fully implemented.

The first of three ending cutscenes introduced Amai Odayaka. She is absolutely precious and I cannot wait to learn more about her when her week arrives! I almost had her eliminated during the Amai challenge, but I messed up and had to end the game for the night.

The newest adjustment to the students’ models are just beautiful. Have a look at Kokona Haruka!

Overall, this game is rich in lore and plot twists, and plenty to speculate on. There is SO MUCH to do in Yandere Simulator! I feel that this game has a lot of potential and I look forwards to its release, whenever that may be. Unfortunately, the pandemic has slowed a lot of things down, including the upcoming crowdfunding campaign. This is a fantastic demo to check out if you have not already. I’m planning on going back in and finishing the Amai challenge, experimenting with mission mode and pose mode.

Sound off: Which is your favorite elimination method so far?

-Sleuth

Download Yandere Simulator's Demo Here

[chezforshire]

Danny stretches as far as his spine could go before he drops back down onto the bed with a groan. 

“Do you want a hot pack or something?”

He glances at Sam as she drops down next to him. She swats at his chest until he groans and takes off the binder under his shirt.

“Nah, I’m good really I just want to lay here in misery.”

"Alright theater kid,” she scoffs.

Tucker sits onto the bed next to him and places a bowl of buttered popcorn on his chest and settles a bowl of caramel popcorn with syrup on his lap. Danny scrunches his nose at that and wonders how much Tucker’s dentist must hate him.

Sam chews on the straw of her milkshake as she flips through the movies on screen. “What are we feeling today boys?”

“The Mummy,” Tucker automatically responded.

“No, I’m tired of looking at Brendan Fraser’s ass. It was great the first few times but now I’m just bored.”

“First off.” Tucker points a sticky finger at Sam. It was directly above Danny’s face and he could see the light sheen of syrup on it. He makes an even more disgusted face. “One can never get tired of looking at Brendan Fraser’s ass. It’s great. Second, I’m here for Arnold Vosloo this time. Him as Imoteph? God.” He feigns a swoon and Sam makes gagging noises at him.

“Doesn’t the shitty CGI bother you, though?” Danny asks. “Like, I can never stop thinking about the fakest flames I’ve ever seen in the intro.”

“To be fair it was good for it’s time. We’re just older now and have better tastes.”

“Older, yes. Better taste, debatable.” Still, she starts up The Mummy Returns.

Danny grabs some pillows and props his head up to see better. He shifts his body a bit and cringes at the sensation of blood.

“This kid is fucking stupid,” Sam mutters.

“Listen with parents like Nick and Evelyn, of course he’ll just be wandering around some abandoned temple.”

They lapse into silence again. Despite Sam’s teasing, she was really focused on the scenes with Evelyn and Anack-Su-Namun. Though they all had a collective gay panic at Nick throwing back that knife to disposable-and-a-probably-racist-depiction villain number one. Then a gay death from watching Evelyn and Ardeth kick some ass.

They may or may not have repeated scenes from that fight more times than is socially acceptable.

Around the jungle scene Danny sits up and mutters about going to the bathroom to change. Sam looks up to check the time. “You hungry? We should get something to eat.”

“Nah? I mean, I’m not hungry and it’s not long before the movie finishes.”

Tucker tips the rest of the popcorn into his mouth then gives him a pointed look. “The last time you ate was breakfast, Dan. It’s like almost dinner time.”

“Oh.”

Sam sighs dramatically and makes a show of getting off the bed. “What will you ever do without us.”

“Go full ghost?”

“A dude can only wish.” She slings an arm around him and nods towards the door. “Let’s get some greasy as shit burgers.”

Tucker walks up to them with the empty bowl of popcorn and raises an eyebrow at Sam. “Can vegan burgers even be greasy?”

She shrugs. “It’s a burger.”

After Danny takes a quick detour to the bathroom, the three of them find themselves in the kitchen. Danny plucks out the ingredients as Tucker sets up the sound system. Sam looks into the fridge over Danny’s shoulder. She nudges him and asks “You wanna drink a bit?”

“Burgers and beer sounds so american I’m kind of feeling my skin get whitewashed.”

Tucker bursts out laughing and Sam gives him a disappointingly proud smile. “We’re not drinking beer, we’ll bust out the big guns.”

“Busting out the vodka at-” Tucker glances at his phone- “five PM Mx. Manson? What a rebel.”

She smiles widely at him. “You know it.”

Danny rolls his eyes and pushes her away. “Not today. I don’t feel like having a hangover in addition to all this stupid body pain.” He phases his hand through the drawer and pulls out a pan.

Sam nods and pulls out a beer for herself. She tilts her head at Tucker and after a shake of his head closes the fridge. They make their dinner with the soundtrack of How To Train Your Dragon playing in the background.

A plate of hamburgers in one hand and their respective drinks in the other, they meander back to the room to continue watching their movie.

Danny demolishes his in less time that is humanly possible and Tucker even gives him one of his as well. They load up another movie once The Mummy ends and give a bit more running commentary now that they have food in them.

Somewhere around 8 PM Danny retracts his initial decline of the alcohol but sticks to just a bottle of beer to sip at. Tucker grabs his own bottle as well along with Sam’s second.

They give up on the movies and set up some games. They argue over what to put in before they decide to just let Sam play Resident Evil as the two of them try to minimize their backseat gaming. They still yell and scream at the monsters and jumpscares despite literally just facing off a ghost who used its entrails to trap people.

“Hey Sam do you have overnight pads?” Danny asks offhandedly as he watches her shoot a zombie in the knee.

“Yeah, but I think I moved them. They might be- fucking bitch give a fucker a warning next time jesus christ- they might be in the drawer of the closet.”

He nods and goes to look. After a bit of moving some unfolded clothing, he found a pack and excused himself to the bathroom. When he came back, Tucker was on the controller and screaming at Mr. X.

He smiles softly at them. These times of the months always sucked ass but at least he had some buddies to make it less worse.

He tells Tucker that he should probably not use the handgun and goes to sit next to him again.

[officially-a-bee]

"Are you sure we should be doing this, Jason?" Cristal asked nervously, glancing around. "I mean, it's really not good to mess with this stuff. . . especially not tonight."

Jason scoffed. "Nothing's gonna happen, Cris. It's just an old book. A game. We'll be fine."

"NoooOooOo, but Jase, Cristal's right!" whined Brandon in a sarcastic falsetto tone. "It's Halloween, and a blue moon, so obviously we can't do anything fun today or else we'll all kill each other!"

"Yeah, lighten up, Cris," said Emily, bumping Cristal's shoulder lightheartedly. "It's just a game. Let's have some fun with it!"

"Okay," said Cristal, still unconvinced. "If you guys say so."

Jason slapped the old, musty book sitting on the table in front of them. "Awesome! Let's see what this bad boy has to say!" He pulled it toward him and flipped open to a random page. "Ooooooh, demons! That sounds intriguing."

"Keep looking," Brandon urged, looking over his shoulder. "We should find something really freaky."

"You know it, bro." Jason kept flipping through, muttering various bizarre phrases under his breath. "Oh. Oh, this is it. Guys, I've found it. There's not many details, but whatever this is, is specifically only to be used for a night like tonight - Halloween, on a blue moon. It's perfect! We have to!"

"Um, what? How can we do some mysterious spell out of an old book from your dead grandma's attic if we don't even know what happens?" Cristal's face was white.

"It's okay, Cris," Emily tried to comfort her, but Brandon interrupted by bursting out into laughter.

"Oh, my God, Cristal! It's fake! It's all a joke! If you don't like it, you can leave! God, you're such a nerd!"

"Hey, shut up, Brandon!" Emily snapped. "It's not Cristal's fault if she's superstitious! Give her a break!"

"Thanks, Emily," Cristal muttered, staring at the tablecloth.

"No problem, babe." Emily patted her on the shoulder. "But really, it is a joke. No worse than saying "Bloody Mary" three times in front of a mirror. You don't have to play if it scares you, but nothing's gonna happen, I promise."

Cristal balled her fists and steeled her nerves. "No. I'm fine. You know what? I'll even do the spell. Give me that." She snatched the book from Jason, spinning it around as it slid across the table. "We need a metal bowl, and a bunch of herbs."

"Now we're talking!" Brandon rubbed his palms together. "My mom's got an herb garden, what do we need?"

Cristal listed them out, and Brandon grabbed his coat and dashed out the door for his quest.

"And we need blood. It doesn't say whose, but it should be enough to write down this incantation thing."

Jason, returning with the bowl, set it down on the table and shrugged. "We can use mine, I don't care. How much we need? I'll get a knife."

"I don't know. A bit. Probably not much."

"Whatever works," Jason said, barely audible from his kitchen.

"What can I do, Cristal?" Emily asked.

"Oh." Cristal looked back down at the book and saw that there wasn't much left to do after this. "Uh, you can get maybe a paintbrush and some paper? You're the best artist here, you can paint the words on, okay?"

"I have to paint in Jason's blood? Gross. It's probably filled with the bacteria of all the nasty stuff he eats off the cafeteria floor for money." Emily wrinkled her nose, but her eyes were playful.

Cristal grinned back. "Sorry. Try not to touch it, and you should be okay."

"Got it. I'm gonna have to burn that paintbrush when I'm done." Emily wrapped an arm around Cristal's shoulders. "Thanks for playing along, Cris. This is gonna be fun, I swear."

Cristal squeezed back. "But not for Jason."

"But not for Jason," Emily echoed. Then she let go, and wandered off to find the supplies.

Jason returned, smaller bowl and knife in hand, just as Emily got out of view. "Somebody say my name?"

"Yeah, Emily and I were just saying how not fun it's gonna be for you. Because of the blood," Cristal explained.

Jason shrugged. "It's no biggie. I bust up my knuckles worse than this on the punching bag every week."

"Your knuckles?" Cristal echoed curiously.

"Yeah, that's where I was gonna cut. Hurts less than my palm, y'know?"

"Fair enough."

He lifted the knife. "Should I do it now?"

"I don't see why not."

He lifted the knife, and Cristal turned away. She could manage demon rituals, but she wasn't a fan of blood. Just then, Emily returned with her supplies, setting them down on the table.

"Ugh, Jason, how deep did you cut? That thing is pouring."

"I dunno. Figured the more the merrier, y'know?"

"That's for people, not your own blood. I could have made do with half that and it's still going!"

"Hmmph. It is what it is."

"Let me get some bandages," said Cristal, standing up abruptly. She left for the bathroom to do exactly that, and when she returned, hands full of medical supplies, Brandon had come back as well, knees scuffed and dirty, with various muddy plants scattered across the table. Jason had a bloody paper towel wrapped around his knuckles, and the small bowl was half full with his blood. Cristal handed him the supplies, then glared at the mud-spattered herbs. "These need to be washed."

"On it," said Brandon enthusiastically.

"Should I start painting?" Emily asked.

"Sure!" Cristal picked the book back up and set it in front of Emily, pointing out the few phrases of Latin she had to copy. She read the instructions a bit further over Emily's shoulder, and upon seeing it required them to burn the bloodied paper alongside the herbs, left to get matches. When she got back, Emily was half done with the writing, and Brandon was using a ladle to crush the freshly-washed herbs in the bowl. She surveyed the sight and smiled a little to herself, if only because this was the first time she'd spurred any number of her friends into action. Her hands shook, though, and she stuck them in her pockets to hide it. There was no turning back now. They'd probably never talk to her again if she tried to back out.

"Done!" Emily announced, holding up her handiwork to show Cristal.

"Awesome, good job! Brandon, those look sufficiently shredded. I think it's time to start." She took the paper and book from Emily, setting the first in the bowl and the second open on the table in front of her. "Apparently I have to recite this, so hopefully my Latin pronunciation is okay." 

Cristal read it slowly, rhythmically, in a quiet, monotone voice, making an effort to be dramatic. As soon as she was done, she struck three matches on the box and dropped them all into the bowl at once. It caught quickly - much faster than she anticipated - and burst up inches from her face. Seconds later, the contents of the bowl was nothing but ash, and all the lights went out.

A chill went down every one of their spines.

"I'll check the circuit breaker," Jason said, uncertainly.

"There's no need to do that!" Brandon shouted. "It was her! She's a witch! What did you do, Witch, I'll kill you!"

"Cristal isn't a witch, it was everyone's game!" Emily yelled desperately.

"I just did what the book said," Cristal whispered shakily.

"I still think you're a witch," Brandon snapped, "but whatever. I'll go check the breaker with Jason."

Just then, the church bells tolled midnight a block away.

"Wait a second." Jason said, sounding genuinely scared now. "Didn't that already happen earlier?"

"Yeah, it did. It was like 2 AM the last time I checked." Emily pulled out her phone, its glow lighting up her face. "That can't be right. This says it's midnight."

"What?" Cristal furrowed her brows.

Emily tilted her phone towards Cristal, and sure enough, the display read 12:01.

Brandon shoved her out of the way to see, and his face contorted. "No. I know it's later than that. I remember texting my mom about her herbs at like 1:45." He pulled out his own phone and unlocked it, and made a strangled noise when he saw what popped up. "They're gone. My texts. Like I never sent 'em at all. What did you do?" He turned his fury back towards Cristal, slamming her into the nearest wall.

"I don't know," Cristal squeaked. "I was just playing along. Like you guys. I did what the book told me to. I swear!"

He lurched back, and Emily shoved him away with a huff. "Leave Cristal alone, you bully. It's not her fault. I'm sure this is just a mistake."

"My phone says it's midnight, too," said Jason nervously. "I don't think just a mistake could change the time on all our phones. And even if it was about daylight savings time, that only goes back one hour, and they wouldn't ring the church bells twice for that."

"Or cut the lights out," Emily muttered.

"So what now?" Cristal asked.

"Circuit breakers. You two start calling parents to let them know." Brandon declared, then stalked out the door, Jason close on his heels.

Cristal brought out her own phone, and saw that it, too, now read 12:04. She swiped it open, then pulled up her mom's contact. It went right to voicemail when she dialed, so she backed out and tried her dad. Voicemail. 

She got voicemail again from all three of her grandparents, as well as her older brother and both her aunts.

Heart in her throat, she lowered the phone and looked slowly over to Emily, whose face mirrored her own terror.

"Voicemail," they both whispered at once.

Emily, stirring out of their frozen terror first, took five strides to the front door and shook it - but the handle wouldn't move. Cristal darted across the kitchen and living room to the sliding back door. Also stuck.

Jason returned from the basement, shaking his head at Emily, the first person he saw. "It was like new. Everything was fine. But nothing did anything when I flipped the switches. I don't know what happened."

A high scream rang through the house, far too close, cutting off too quick with a gurgled cry. 

All the blood drained from Jason and Emily's face, and they bolted through the kitchen and living room to see a tall, darkened figure standing with a knife. Jason turned on his phone to light up the scene, revealing a blood-spattered Brandon standing over Cristal's immobile form on the floor.

Brandon's hands shook, and he dropped the knife. "I told you. It's her fault. She's a witch."

"Did you kill her?" Emily said, with a freakishly calm demeanor.

"Yes," Brandon replied, seeming equally calm everywhere besides his hands, visibly trembling.

Jason swore.

"I'll kill you too, Brandon. With God as my witness I will kill you."

"Okay," Brandon said, "that's fair. But can we at least see if things go normally now? I just want to know if I was right. Then you can kill me. I don't care."

Emily stared him down, her face a perfect void of emotion. "Fine. You have two hours. Until 2 AM passes. Then you're a dead man. Give me that knife."

Brandon picked it up off the floor and passed it over wordlessly.

"Jason, go get some rope."

Jason's eyes flick back to life, and he walks out of the room, calm as anything, and certainly in shock. He knew this, but he didn't really know how to deal with it. Nor did he know how to deal with the fact that he'd just seen his best friend kill one of his other best friends. So he was just going to listen to Emily, because at least she knew what she was doing.

When he returned to her with the rope, she took it with steady hands and pointed to an armchair. "Sit."

Brandon obeyed, and she tied him tightly - hands together, then feet to the legs, then back to the back. She finished by shoving the remaining length of rope into his mouth and tying it around his head, effectively gagging him.

When she was done, she surveyed her handiwork and then looked to both of the boys. "Okay, listen to me. We are in a time loop, yes? I think that's clear enough from the disappearing texts and the church bells. So if 2 AM comes around, turning back into midnight like before, and Cristal gets back up, you walk too, and you leave her and everyone else alone. If she doesn't and things continue after 2 AM, you die. Is that clear?"

A few lonely thoughts occured to Jason. "What if it goes back to midnight and she doesn't wake up?"

"Then he dies. Whatever else happens, if Cristal stays dead, he's dead too. Very simple."

"But what if you get caught?"

"I cannot express to you, Jason, exactly how much I no longer care about that anymore. When we have signals again, you can call 911 and report me yourself if you like."

"I don't want to do that, Emily."

"Then don't. I'm not about to put the phone into your hands."

"Okay. So what now?"

"Now we wait for 2, or the bells."

"Okay."

Brandon made a muffled noise of affirmation, nodding.

"So it's agreed." Emily sat down on the sofa across from Brandon, not five feet away from Cristal's immobile body. "We wait."

Jason sat, too. No one said anything, but the time seemed to pass quickly. Soon enough, Emily lit up her phone again, and showed it to the room. "1:56 in the morning. It's almost over."

"Or all over again," Jason murmured.

The last two minutes dragged on. All three waited with bated breath. Just when Jason sat up to call the continued passing of time ---

Bing, bong, bing, bong.

They checked their phones - midnight again.

They looked to Cristal.

But she stayed still.

The room was motionless.

Until Emily stood and plunged the kitchen knife into Brandon's gut in a single smooth move.

He tensed up and struggled against his bonds, crying out soundlessly, but she twisted the knife and pulled it out. He went limp, blood pouring to the carpet.

Jason stared at Emily, openmouthed. "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

Emily spat at Brandon's still-twitching feet. "He killed Cristal."

"I - yeah." Jason didn't know what to say, so he sat silently again, staring at the expanding pool of blood. "What now?"

"I don't know," Emily admitted. She stepped gingerly over Cristal's body and tried the back door again. "Still stuck."

"Maybe it'll be different this time. Maybe time will keep going. Now that the one who did the spell and the one who killed her are both dead."

"I just said the doors are still stuck."

"Yeah, because we're still in the loop." He checked his phone. "I mean, 12:14 already happened twice now. But maybe when 2 comes back around, it'll keep going. We could leave. You should run."

"I don't know, Jason," said Emily. "We don't even know what that spell was about. And we all helped somehow. Your blood was in it."

"Then, maybe me dying will fix everything. But you did the least, you just painted it. I think if either of us has a chance of getting out, you do. But I also just have a feeling that this is the last one."

"I don't know," Emily repeated. "Let's check the book?"

"That's a good idea, but we don't understand Latin. Nothing on that page said anything about what the spell does."

"We have Google Translate."

"No signal."

"No, I've got data." She showed him her phone. "I just don't think we can contact anyone. It blocks us."

"Try it, then."

Emily pulled it up, and typed "hola" into the text box. "Hello" appeared next to it, so she turned it to show Jason. "See?"

"Oh. Cool. Let's go, then."

They went into the kitchen together, where Emily sat down and carefully typed in the phrase she'd copied earlier. As soon as she hit "enter", though, the phone turned hotter than fire in her palm. She dropped it and it fell to the ground, shattering on impact. She swore and stomped on it, but it was still burning-hot even to her socked foot, making her swear more. Jason watched her in concern, and grabbed her hand to check for damage.

"It doesn't even look burned," he muttered.

"It FEELS burned, JASON," Emily yelled, pushing him away.

"Sorry! Did you catch any translation before it fell?"

"Of course not! It didn't even show anything!"

"Jesus, okay, sorry."

Emily rubbed her unburned palm grumpily, then she flicked her eyes back to Jason. "So what time is it now?"

He checked his phone. "Almost 1:30."

Emily scrunched up her face. "These times are all messed up. Like, even more than usual. Me typing that shouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes. It must be part of the spell."

Jason shrugged. "Yeah. Don't know what to do about it, though."

"Don't know what to do about any of this," Emily whispered.

"Hey." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders."We'll figure something out."

"Like what?" Emily demanded. "Live alone in this house forever, our only company the two corpses in the living room?"

"I don't know, Emily! It just seemed like the right thing to say!"

"Well, it was wrong. You shouldn't have said anything."

"I'm sorry! I was just trying to help."

"It didn't work! Just leave me alone!"

"Fine, I will!"

"Fine!"

Jason stomped out of the room and up the stairs.

Emily started to cry.

A few moments later, the bells tolled again, signaling midnight, and Emily cried harder.

Then, a muffled thud came from upstairs, and her heart stopped.

She kicked back her chair and took the stairs four at a time, ending at the room she knew to be Jason's. Throwing it open, she was forced to take in the one scene she dreaded the most: her last friend, lifeless on the floor. She screamed and pounded on his chest, begging him to get up, but it was too late. His faintly glowing phone beside them had just two things on its almost all black screen - the time, 1:53, and a single word: DIE.

Emily sat back and sobbed. She picked up the phone and threw it across the room; it hit a wall, fell to the floor, and broke with a terrible smash. 

She had no idea how long it took to stop crying, but when she did, she looked up - 

- and saw that the phone had shattered a window.

Her mouth fell open, and she shot across the room to stick her head out the window - and it went! She could get out!

Her arms followed, then her torso, and finally after tugging one leg after another through, she was free. Traumatized and criminalized, but free. She could run far away, until her only memories of her former friends were faded, but fond.

She shimmied down the roof until she was far enough to let herself drop, and then she took off running, fast as she could. There was a section of woods just by Jason's house, if she made it there maybe she'd be able to escape.

She could see it, she got to the treeline, she stumbled and fell but it was okay because she was under the cover of the trees -

- and then, far away, she heard the church bells chime.

@krystal-prisms

[nightwingshero]

Hold Me Down Chapter 4

Yassss!!!! Hahaha!!!! Surprise!!! I was finally able to get this busted out!! Man, this chapter was...*whew*, it was a tough one! But she’s done and ready to read! It’s not fully edited because I’m too excited and want to post it now but I hope you guys like it!

@dieguzguz a special thank you to you, my dear. Sam, this would’ve been a train wreck if it weren’t for you. Thank you so much for being honest and putting me on the right track when I was going through my rough patch. With your help and advice, I was able to make this chapter everything it should be. Thank you!

The car ride was awkward. I felt like a five-year-old being forced to go to church on a Sunday morning, except I was a 27-year-old adult, being forced to move in with someone I hadn’t known for a full week. Someone, mind you, that had threatened to kill me and who I ended up holding a knife to. Part of me worried that I would wake up to one to my throat.

Atlanta was a decently sized,and with the traffic, it took us forever to get to our destination. The penthouse was on the outskirts of the city, giving what seemed to be a nice view of the city. But it had to have been built recently, the structure shiny and the windows huge. It’s almost intimidating as Randy turns, swiping a card at the gated entrance to the parking underneath.

The parking lot is dark, and I can’t help but remember all those scary movies I had seen in my lifetime so far. I eye Randy, because I know Viking Princess—Jane—is someone I can handle. I didn’t think Randy, or Jane, was a threat to me, especially in the light of current events. But in my life, you couldn’t be too sure. Someone was always ready to plunge a knife in your back, whether you were looking or not.

And I almost groan at the reminder of what I had agreed to. I didn’t know how the hell this was going to even work. I could pretend to be anything, anyone, to get what I needed. A businesswoman, a shallow woman who didn’t understand majority of things, even an escort at one low point in my life. But I had never tried to enter a fake engagement. I didn’t have the type of patience or time for that. A long con wasn’t something Dutch talked much about, despite teaching us the skill to do it. But cons were never the goal. No, our goal was much more sinister than that.

I rub my hands together as we park the SUV, glancing around to try and see through the tinted glass, but failing. As they step out of the vehicle, I follow suit, unsure of where exactly we were going, but I can tell that the garage is a few degrees cooler than being outside. It’s a nice relief, even if the eerie lighting threw me off. It didn’t, however, stop me from eyeing the line of cars.

An empty parking spot laid between a black Lexus and dark blue Jaguar F Type, making me curious to what was missing. I raised a brow, however, as I spotted an old black Mustang at the end of the line. Jane and Randy kept walking, as if it was absolutely normal, and it’s then that it occurs to me that maybe there were more people living in the building. I couldn’t wait to slip away to sweet talk the owner of the Mustang.

Stopping, Jane waves something in front of the elevator, a key card of some sort, and the elevator doors open. I’m grateful, as we ascend, that there isn’t any awkward elevator music playing to add to the odd atmosphere. I want to believe that this could fall under some sort of kidnapping, but I knew that wasn’t the case. I had come willingly, even if it felt like I didn’t really have the choice. Which seemed to be a reoccurring theme as of late.

So lost in my own thoughts, the ding of the elevator made me jump, forcing myself to face the reality of my new environment. The lights were off, indicating that no one was home. Despite the dark home, the massive windows at the other end showed the sun setting and the lights of the city shining around us. Mesmerized I walk forward, leaving Randy and Jane behind in the foyer. The lights switch on, and I realize that there’s a balcony there, the glass doors blending in perfectly with the windows, almost as if they weren’t there at all. The pool water sparkled, the blue of it creating a glow that clashed with the darkness of its surroundings. My skin itched to feel the gentle caress of the water, and I could bet anything that it was temperature controlled.

“I can show you to your room.” Randy called. I glanced over to see him waiting patiently at the bottom of a floating staircase, the dark black slabs embedded into the wall.

“Okay.” I replied, turning away from the view to follow him.

There were a couple of doors that we passed until we came to a small indent, not exactly a hallway, but something with a door on either side. “That’s John’s room.” Randy nodded to the right side. “If you need anything, he’s right across the way.”

I almost flinch a bit as Randy opened the door on the left. I’m sure he meant it to be reassuring, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel it. I was a misplaced object in this odd museum. The feeling just grows worse as we step into the room. The greys, blacks, and whites contradicting each other. It was probably the biggest bedroom I had ever seen, and my gut twists. Why the hell did someone ever find this necessary?

Randy gently placed the bag down on the bed and turned to me. “Take a few minutes to adjust and then come back downstairs. Jane is gonna whip something up for you.”

“And the prince himself?” I asked, continuing to look around.

“John is going to be out late tonight. He said that you were to eat something and to feel as comfortable as possible. You’re allowed to look around, most of the penthouse is open to you. His office and bedroom are off limits, though.”

I scoffed as I met Randy’s dark brown eyes. “Oh please, as if I would ever want to go anywhere near his bedroom.”

Randy’s lips grow into a tight line, but I can’t tell if he’s holding back laughter or a retort. Either way, it didn’t matter. He walked out, leaving me alone in my new gilded cage. I slowly walk around, noting how the windows were floor to ceiling, no way of getting out, especially from this high up. My skin crawled at the thought of there not being a way out, and I focused on my breathing. In and out slowly, because I wouldn’t let this get the better of me.

My fingers skim the silk fabric of the bedding, pressing down a bit, almost shocked at how soft it was. Feeling more like a child, I hop up on the bed and fall back. I sighed, my eyes closing briefly. I didn’t know what kind of mattress this was, but holy shit, was it heavenly. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. I feel this overwhelming urge to cry, the heavy feeling settling into my chest. I was finally given just a moment to myself, to be able to actually take a damn breath, and all I wanted to do was cry. I’ve been arrested, kidnapped, backed into a corner and forced into a fake engagement all while losing my apartment. There was no safe space for me anymore, nowhere for me retreat to. I was locked away with someone that was a clear threat if not handled correctly, and god, it was terrifying. I hadn’t felt less level of apprehension since Dutch. Always laying awake at night, scared of what next test he had in store. Part of me worried to waking with John’s hands around my throat.

A knock on the door sounded, making me jump. “Yeah?”

“Food’s done.” Randy called and I could hear his retreat.

“That was fast.” I muttered as I rolled of the bed, my feet landing on the soft rug as I kicked off my boots.

On the way down the stairs, I cling to the railing as my socks slid on my first step, and I refused to have ‘falling down the stairs’ added to the day’s events. I didn’t want to make any more of a fool of myself than I already have. I eyed Jane as I went though, noticing that she leaned against the counter and texted on her phone. Cringing, I eyed the bruising that began to develop from me breaking her nose. I felt a bit bad for it.

“So…what exactly am I eating?” I asked as I slowly made my way to the island in the center of the kitchen. It was modern—like everything else—with the island bar made wholly of white marble. The cabinets and counters of the rest of it was pitch black with a black and white marble black splash. I would be lying if I had said I wasn’t at least a bit envious. It was gorgeous, everything sleek and clean, all the appliances matching perfectly.

Jane cleared her throat and shoved her phone away as I sat at the bar, my hands resting against the cool surface. “I uh, made you grilled cheese. Hope that’s okay.” She muttered before placing a plate in front of me.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine.” I gave her a small smile, but she didn’t see it. I could smell the cheesy goodness, the sandwich cut in half diagonally, showing off the golden melted cheese. I took a bite, the cheese oozing in my mouth. Chewing and swallowing, I watch as she leans back against the counter. She looks exhausted. Another twinge of guilt. “Hey, look, I’m sorry about the nose thing. It wasn’t personal.”

Jane’s sharp green eyes find mine with a raised brow. “Not gonna lie, part of me wants punch you to call it even, but I’m gonna ask in all fairness: how likely am I to win that fight?”

“Hmm.” I smirk before tearing off a piece of the sandwich. “Not very.”

She shakes her head with a laugh as I take another bite. “You know it’s Jacob that trains us, and to have your small ass put me on my face in front of my fiancé and trainer is extremely humiliating. Although, I gotta say as a fan of dramatics in that department,” she threw a mischievous look, raising her brow playfully. “That was pretty badass.”

“Thanks.” I laugh a little as I continue to pick at my food. “So, what happens now?”

“Now,” she sighed. “We play the game. You’ll need to keep a low profile while we set the stage. Obviously, it would be strange if it got out that you were living with John before you’re at least spotted together in public. If we play it right, I think we could make it seem like you’ve been secretly dating the past few months.”

“To the public?”

“Right. But as for the feds and Drubmans? They’ll see that you’ve wrapped John Seed around your finger, doing your job as the engagement gets announced.”

Finishing off half of the sandwich, I gave her a look. “When is that?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I think it’s all a bit cliché. Just stage a damn break in. Rough John up a bit, break in for fake documents or something.”

I laughed at her as Jane shrugged. “There’s an idea.”

There was a relief in finding some common ground with Jane, something I didn’t realize I truly needed up until now. I didn’t have any allies here, but maybe I wouldn’t have to be so alone. The idle chatter between us was slow, nothing deep, both of us guarded. The trust wasn’t there, and I had to respect her for being smart enough to not give away any details I could use.

After I was finished, she offered a tour, but I stubbornly refused. I was going to walk around his palace and admire what he was, but that didn’t help me from my eyes wondering, eyeing the pictures of family here and there. Most of it was just abstract paintings he decorated on his walls, but I could see a family painting and a few pictures. There were black and white shots of planes on the wall behind me, for whatever reason. I crushed my curiosity down out of pride.  

I finally called it a night, throwing Jane a good night over my shoulder as I made my way back to the room I was assigned. Locking the door behind me, I sighed heavily. I could watch tv for the rest of the night, allow myself to slip into a mindless state to help with the tension that I was feeling. But my curiosity finally won out as I started to explore my room in more depth. I walked over to the double doors on the other side of the room, wishfully hoping it was a way to escape.

As I ripped the doors opened, I am both star-shocked and disappointed. Part of me wanted it to lead to a secret balcony of some sort, but what I found instead was an unnecessarily huge walk-in closet. I flipped the light on to see the racks completely filled with clothes: dresses, suits, designer jeans and shirts. There were sunglasses, jewelry, and shoes.

I almost died as I knelt down to check the bottom of the shelves, eyeing the boots that sat there innocently. It was like a damn bookshelf, all the boots at the bottom with a few gym shoes and then…then the heels made up for the rest of it. My eyes widened at the sight of a few Doc Martens, a regular pair, one knee high, and the last was heeled. I couldn’t help but smile in excitement, my love for boots knew no bounds in all honestly. I moved on, checking out the assortment of heels. Most were black, some blue, silver, and grey. There were a few red and burgundy ones, too, and I couldn’t help but…feel a bit of unease.

Frowning, I glance back around, noting the colors—or lack thereof—and I felt a chill. It was strange to me that somehow, whoever did this, knew my taste. Knew my style well enough to pull it off. I turned, grabbed a heel, eyeing that famous red sole before checking the size. I dropped it as if I had been burned, then ripped a black business professional dress off the hanger and checked the tag. A shaky breath escaped my lips as the dress slipped to the floor. Everything was in my size…how the fuck did this happen?

Catching sight of a gown bag, I swallowed before rushing over. I pulled it, carefully unzipping it as I went. Pulling a side back, I drop it and scramble away. Newly dry cleaned and packed perfectly away, was the same dress I wore that night at the gala. I tried to take a calming breath, convincing myself it was a coincidence and that I was just paranoid. But I’ve done this for so long, my instincts couldn’t help but scream, warning me that this was all just too much to not mean something, but I wasn’t sure what. He had seen the dress, maybe he had bought it knowing that. But that didn’t explain everything else.

I’m hesitant, because lately every time I tried to dig, something bad ended up happening to me. My curiosity had done nothing positive for me in weeks, and this was no better. I didn’t want to see this, I didn’t want to acknowledge the possibilities…but I wouldn’t be alive today if hadn’t done those things. Biting my lip, I slowly think up for a plan to see what I could find. A visit to a certain friend could help put things in motion in finding out anything I needed to know. So, I walk out of the closet with a bitter thought of how anyone could afford—or deserve to afford—even half the shit in that damn closet.

Those were my thoughts as I woke up the next morning in the slate grey sheets and expensive down comforter. Worse case scenario I suffered through this for a few months, getting a taste of what I could have when this was all over. It wasn’t that bad. I had protection, slept at a penthouse, all needs were taken care of. I could put up with the insufferable asshole. I had the patience for that.

Right?

I eyed the closet doors and felt a twist of doubt, unsure if I did. Half of me screamed to ignore it and keep my hand down for the sake of getting by without causing anymore trouble. The other demanded answers, curiosity and anger working together to piece every little thing together.

Groaning, I sat up and made my way to the bathroom, doing my usual morning routine. Throwing on a pair of black shorts and adjusting my tank top, I cautiously open the bedroom door. The smell of bacon hit me immediately, and I could hear the sizzling of something. I sighed in relief, shutting the door behind me and running my hand through my hair. If Jane was here, that would make me feel at least a tad better, even though I was the reason she was sporting black eyes now.

My feet hit the cold surface of the stairs as I made my descent, glancing over once the kitchen came into view, and freezing on the spot. I debate running back up the stairs, but he glances over his shoulder at me. There’s no going back now.

I would have never guessed that John could cook, and even if he did, I didn’t think him the kind of person to cook for himself. So, it’s a shock to me, and it’s the excuse I use as I stare at him. His back is bare, with him being in only grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It gave me the perfect view of his tattoos. A huge black and blue raven spreading across his shoulder blades, a symbol on his left shoulder, a knife and snake under it, and a plethora of smaller, individual ones along his forearm. I couldn’t get a better look on his other side, but I was so sure that he had others. And as much as I admired the ink across his skin, it was the lines of scars that threw me.

Taking my time, I continued down while keeping a watchful eye on him. I had underestimated him; I knew that much. I just wasn’t sure how much. Joseph showed some cards yesterday, enough for me to know and understand that crossing him would be a terrible mistake on my part. But John…he was still a mystery, and I couldn’t afford any more surprises.

“Wren.” He looked over his shoulder briefly once more, before turning back. It’s alien, how my name falls from his lips. It makes me feel something else that I don’t know how to place. “It’s about time. I thought I would have to come up and make sure you hadn’t died in your sleep.” He called as I stood by the island. His voice had a deepness, almost husky, and I wondered if he sounded like that every morning. Up close I could see the red scars better. Some were random lines, others were words. Sins carved into his skin harshly, as I spy Sloth under his right forearm along with the other tattoos there. I force my attention away from it, swallowing my curious questions.

“I thought Jane would be making breakfast.” I shot back with a shrug that he couldn’t see, so focused on the skillet in front of him. “I was disappointed.”

John moved, transferring whatever he made onto a plate. “Jane is with Faith at their house. She doesn’t stay here. Faith prefers her fiancée at home.” He turned with the plate in his hand, placing it on the island and pointing at the barstool. “Sit. You need to eat.”

Any retort died in my throat as he fished his phone out of his pocket. His chest was well toned and lean. He wasn’t big like Jacob seemed to be, but he had muscle to him. Part of me wondered how much of a challenge he would be if it were an actual fair fight, just him and I. His body was lithe, for sure, so not only would he have strength on his side, but he would be fast, too. I’ve already had a taste of that.

My eyes trace the lines of the scales he has tattooed just under his chest and ending just above his belly button, with another starting right under. A smaller version of the symbol in the center as dark lines and shading to give it a dark glow, with a design underneath that was cut off by his pants. I sat down, feeling uncomfortably warm, and looked down at the plate. “I’d appreciate you not acting like you’re my dad, telling me what to do.” I snarked.

John stopped texting to throw me a dark look, the corners of his mouth twisting the slightest in a smirk, opening his mouth to say something. He stopped himself, hesitating, before his mouth forms a tight line. “Just eat.” He began typing away again, his hair falling in his face a bit. “We’re going to have to announce our…relationship to the public soon. I’ve made a reservation for us this weekend. It’ll give your face time to heal and the sooner we get this going, the better.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tossed his phone on the counter. “I hope you like Italian.”

He leaned against the counter, his hands gripping the edge as he stared at me. I almost rolled my eyes. How this man could be nothing but business while walking around in sweats was just ridiculous. “Oh good, I love spaghetti.” He said nothing, but I could see the frustration and ire working its way into his eyes. “I’m kidding. Italian is fine.” This time I did roll my eyes.

“Good. There’s plenty of clothes in your closet, and I hope you found something that suits your taste in the bathroom. I don’t know what brands you use, or whatever.” His phone buzzed, gaining his attention.

“You were the one that did that?” I asked, raising a brow at him, my thoughts going to mystery of the wardrobe I had been given. John snapped his gaze to mine.

“No.” he answered, quickly and almost snapping at me. Clearing his throat, he continued. “No, Whitney and Faith did that. I couldn’t be bothered with it. She thought you and Jane were about the same size.”

I narrowed my eyes at him when he looked away. That was…awfully fast, especially for the amount that littered that damn closet. It didn’t really make sense, but I shove it aside, not wanting to start a fight first thing in the morning. “And here I thought it was for the women I’m sure you have milling in and out.”

Ah. So much for no fighting. Pull a punch only to throw another. Good job, Wren.

But John scoffed, a small smirk on his lips. “My one-night stands don’t stay, my dear. And no one would ever be allowed to keep anything here, let alone a full closet of that size.” He threw me a taunting look. “Which I’m sure you’ll understand.”

I frowned, my nose wrinkling. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you seducing all those men you con—”

I threw my head back, a laugh escaping before I look back at him. “Oh, no. I don’t sleep with my marks. Ever. That’s a rule of mine. I don’t ever mix business with pleasure. Besides, most of those men are old and cringy. No thank you.”

“Why?” he asked, folding his arms as he leaned against them on the island. “Bad experience?” He smirked at his own innuendo and I hesitated. I didn’t trust him, not by a long shot, and I didn’t want to ever give him something to use against me. But on the other hand, he was supposed to be an ally, my employer’s brother, and for this particular job, my partner. So, against my better judgement, I decide to be honest.

“When we’re recruited, we learn that creating ties is dangerous.” I stared, playing with the food with a fork. “So, we’re taught how to kind of…shut our emotions away.” Sighing I give him a look. “And for some people, it’s harder said than done.”

He quirked his brow at me. “You don’t have sex because you will get emotionally attached?” John laughed. “Oh, you’re one of those. A bit needy and can get a bit clingy because they end up wanting something more.”

I immediately frowned, irritation making my face hot. Fucking playboys. “No, I don’t sleep with them because they’re disgusting, greedy leeches, and it’s unprofessional. Sex complicates everything, because you’re always messing with someone’s emotions, and that’s where I draw my line. I’m in the game of stealing, not manipulating someone’s emotions just because I can. That being said,” I hopped off the stool, pushing the plate away, before I lean close to him. “Just because some women want something more, and have feelings, doesn’t make them needy or clingy. In fact, they aren’t the ones to blame at all. It’s not their fault you’re a heartless asshole.”

I turned, making my way back up the stairs without another word.

Coming back down a bit later, I found him no where in sight. Jane and Randy sat at the island instead, playing poker. They looked up at the sound of my approach. “I need a car. Unless you two wanna drive me around all day, although I would prefer to be alone.”

Randy hesitated looking uneasy. “Uh, I don’t think—”

“Just give her the keys to the Lexus. John has been using the Audi, he’s not gonna miss it.” Jane cut him off, throwing me a smirk. I couldn’t help but return it, the guilt slowly faded away more as the mutual respect began to grow between us. I had a feeling we were going to get along just fine.

He gave Jane one more look before turning back to me. “The table in the foyer, there’s a black tray where he keeps his keys. Do not grab anything other than the keys for his Lexus.” Randy warned, pointing at me. I rolled my eyes, making my way over.

I raised a brow, seeing the keys neatly laid out. How many cars did this guy have? I rolled my eyes, grabbing the Lexus key fob. I was ready to get the fuck out of here and see what I could find, both with the wardrobe confusion and the apartment issue.

Duncan, you asshole.

 I huffed as I parked on the side of the street, eyeing the building. This was the right place, right? Checking my mirror, I open the door and exit the car. I immediately miss the air conditioning, but I push that aside. I was on a mission and this was long overdue. I should have done this before anything else, but it had gotten away from me. I guess being kidnapped had a way of taking up your time.

The building was beautiful to say the least. And I wasn’t sure how the owner did it, mixing between old and modern. It was one of the classier tattoo shops I’ve come across. Made that familiar urge rise up within me again, that familiar and comforting sting that always left something beautiful behind.

Pain was temporary, but vanity…vanity was forever.

Making a mental note to come up with some ideas, I pushed the glass door open. This had to be the one. It was the only tattoo shop close to Mary May’s sports bar, and she did mention it was down the road. I would hunt them down, one by one, though. How many tattoo parlors could Atlanta have anyway? I was determined.

The air conditioning was welcoming when I entered, and a bell dinged to announce my arrival. The inside was gorgeous, to say the least. Dark walls with light flooring, a red accent wall that made the room pop in a way that drew you in. While most of it was sleek, there were Victorian touches here and there, from the plush couch to the light fixtures. A beautiful balance.

“Hold on, I’m comin’!” A male voice drawled, and I couldn’t help but allow my lips to curl into a smirk. I broadened when Sharky came around the corner. He stopped short, seeing me standing in the lobby, and I watched as he took a second to recover. “Oh. Hey there, Shorty. What’cha up to?”

I watched the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot while shoving his hands in his green hoodie. “Nothing much. I was in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by. Mary May said you got a new gig here recently. Didn’t know you were an artist, Sharky.”

“Oh, well.” He cleared his throat while throwing me a sheepish smile. “I actually do the piercings, you see. I ain’t good at drawing or any of that fancy stuff.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “To each their own. But uh…I came here for a reason.”

Catching onto my meaningful stare, he jumped with eyes wide. “Oh! Yeah, follow me this way. We can talk back here.” Sharky turned with a wave of his hand, and I followed him back down the hallway. I eyed the work hung up on the walls, but nothing stood out specifically to me. Just drawings or pictures of work that was done, very good work.

“Who did all these?” I asked.

“Our boss.” Sharky called over his shoulder as he opened a door at the end of the hallway. “He doesn’t come around much with his big-shot career taking up most of his time, but when he is here, he ain’t got any extra time. You gotta book him months in advance.”

I raised my brow, impressed. I’ve had my fair share of experience with talented artists, so it wasn’t that shocking that someone was so in demand. What was shocking was the fact that it wasn’t this man’s main gig. A big-shot career? What the hell did this guy do? And that question became even bigger as I stepped into what I assumed to be his office. Huge glass desk with a fancy computer, with blotch tests framed and amazing abstract paintings hung proudly on the walls. What really caught my attention was the one painting that seemed to be misplaced.

It was religious, that was for sure. A dark version of the Garden of Eden, Eve being entangled naked by a snake while Adam gripped her and bled. I had never seen anything like it before, but something about made you just stare. Sharky finally caught onto what had grabbed my attention.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he has an obsession with religion. I mean, some of his family does, too. Especially his parents, so…there are pieces like that in some of our rooms. Each one is inspired by a sin, I think.”

“And this one?”

“I think it’s supposed to be temptation or something. Or a warning to not touch snakes or naked ladies. I’m not sure.”

I shook my head. “Listen, I came here to check on you and discuss some business. I also need a favor.”

Sharky shifted uneasily. “What’s up?”

“I had some cops, and a fed, tell me they shook you down for information on me. They obviously have been following me because they had a photo of us talking. Any chance that they got anything on you?”

“Feds?” he asked throwing me a confused look. “Nah, nobody approached me.”

“Then what made you have a career change?” I asked.

“Thought it would be a good idea to make legit money, too. Besides, my boss wanted me.

“Is this the same guy whose name was on my lease?” Sharky flinched, giving me my answer, and I sighed. “Damn it, Sharky. I told you to put it under me—”

“My boss wouldn’t let me.”

“What do you mean?”

Sharky paled, making a show of glancing at a watch he didn’t own. “Oh, look. I gotta go—”

I immediately stepped into this path, crossing my arms as I blocked the door. “Sharky, explain. Now.”

“Okay!” he threw his hands up in defense. “My boss…well, he knows about you. Like, knows that you’re a total badass and stuff. So…he invested.”

“Invested?” I asked, an uneasy feeling coming over me. I thought I was flying under the radar, only coming out of the shadows because John had caught me. “What do you mean he knows about me?”

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck, unwilling to meet my eyes. “he knows of you. Knows what you can do. And well, he’s my boss Shorty. I can’t do business with just anybody.”

“Sharky, you’re a fence. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” He mumbled, staring at his feet. “If it weren’t for my boss, I’d be dead. He saved my life. So, no, I only do fence work for him and who he allows.”

My brows furrowed. This was supposed to clear up things, not making them more confusing. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, but my aunt got me out of some…family issues. And well, my boss took me under his wing, kinda. Protected me, you know?” My heart tugged for him. I knew family issues all too well, and he was lucky to have someone to be there for him. Well, fuck.

“So, this ‘Duncan’ is your boss?” I sighed. “And he…invested?”

Sharky perked up at the change of my tone. “Yeah! He was like, super impressed with what you did in L.A., so yeah. He invested.”

“He…he knows about what happened in Cali?” I breathed out, a chill going over my spine.

Of all the things, that wasn’t something I would want anyone to witness. I was still licking my wounds from my wounded pride, my actually injuries healed long ago. It was the first time I had been caught, a tip was given, and I had found myself fighting for my life. I was lucky enough to avoid law enforcement, which seemed to be a miracle. I definitely left a lasting impression and I wasn’t sure if I would ever walk into that city again. Not that I would ever miss it. Good riddance.

“Yeah, but don’t worry.” He waved it off with a roll of his eyes. “He ain’t worried ‘bout all that.”

“So…when you bought me that dress…” I trailed off, the dress coming to mind as I gave him a look.

“He did. I ain’t that good at woman shopping.” Sharky replied with a laugh. “He has good taste, knows exactly what to get. That knife strap still working good?”

“The strap is fine.” I replied absentmindly. I had returned that dress, never keeping things that I used or wore on jobs to destroy any connection. I didn’t like this, not one bit. There was an extremely small chance it was a coincidence. It might not have even been the same dress I wore, just a replica that Whitney had bought. It could have been a joke on John’s part. Perhaps I was just reaching due to paranoia. I sighed and decided to change the subject. But…about that favor?”

“What do you need?” he asked cautiously.

“I need a new set of throwing knives. Just like, three of them. Custom made with the blue blades.”

Sharky threw his head back and groaned. “Girly, you know how much those cost? You want regular throwing knives, I got you. But those customized ones? My boss—”

“If he’s really invested, then he’ll get them.” I replied sternly. “I’m assuming he’s going to want me to do a job for him then?”

Sharky sighed, shaking his head. “It’s complicated. I don’t know what the dude wants, but he keeps the money comin’ for yah.”

“Well…that might be a blessing with what work I have cut out in front of me.” I walked towards the desk, finding it neat and clear of any documentation. Nothing that I could swipe, but there were interesting paperweights and fancy pens. No pictures of family…nothing. “I got myself tied up in a job for the next few months, at least.”

“Job with who?” he asked, not even noticing me taking note of everything I could. I was desperate for a clue, for anything, that could lead me to who this guy was. I didn’t like that someone was watching from the shadows.

“I don’t think I’m really allowed to say.” I replied turning back to him. “I know that I’m gone once it’s over. Tell your boss I appreciate…whatever it is that he did, but I don’t think I’m interested in whatever he has in mind. I just want the knives.”

Sharky shrugged. “I don’t think he has anything in mind, just interested in yah. You want me to deliver those knives somewhere special?”

I snorted. “You can have him deliver them himself to get rid of all this mystery bullshit. But if that can’t be arranged, I can just stop by here. Either way.”

Sharky gave a nod. I was tired of all this suspense, all these surprises that seemed to come out of nowhere. I didn’t know how many people were involved with this, but I was hoping that I had reached the end. Having another player in the game wasn’t something I could afford at the moment. I couldn’t even handle my new roommate, let alone Drubman and the feds breathing down my neck. Which reminded me that I needed to check in sooner rather than later before they hunted me down.

I only stayed for a few more hours, talking and joking with him. I didn’t get a whole lot of time with Sharky, or anyone for that matter. I never really allowed myself to make friends, and I always viewed him, and Mary May, more along the lines of associates or colleagues than anything. But I had found myself growing more and more fond of these people, no matter how much I tried to avoid it.

Finally, waving goodbye, I exited the shop and back into the heat of Atlanta. Somehow, I had managed to kill most of the day, which was fine by me. Normally I was a home body, but with my new living arrangement, I was desperate to get out of the house. Suddenly I found that I enjoyed being out and about.

I turned, checking to see Sharky gone as I pulled out my phone and clicked on her contact. Bringing it to my ear, I listened to it ring. I knew she was about to get busy, but I was hoping she would answer anyway.

“Hello?” Mary May answered, relief flooding over me.

“Hey, May. It’s me.”

“Well, look who decided to stick around. I assumed you were still here since you never swung by to say bye.” There was a beat of silence, but not enough for me to answer. “Wait, unless you’re already gone. Did you leave without saying bye, you asshole?”

I chuckled at her. She was always so damn mouthy. “No, I’m still here in Atlanta.” Unfortunately. “But I’m calling you because I need a favor. Can you look someone up for me?”

“Oh.” She sounded shocked, but she recovered quickly. “Yeah, sure. What’s the name?”

“Duncan. Male, I think.”

“First or last?”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely sure.” I replied almost sheepishly.

Mary May sighed. “Wren, do you have any idea how common that name is? That’s going to take me forever.”

“Well, apparently he’s a big-time businessman here in Atlanta, so that could help. He also owns a tattoo shop. Oh, and the bastard was renting my apartment the whole fucking time. There’s that.”

Mary May hesitated. “Wait…tattoo parlor? Wren, where are you?”

“In Atlanta—”

“Where exactly?” she pressed. I frowned as she sighed. Where the hell was this coming from. “Like, what’s the name of the parlor?”

“It’s the one Sharky is working with. I dropped by and said hey.” I said, brushing it aside.

“Does Sharky know you’re doing this?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” I replied impatiently. “His boss has a keen interest, and I have every intention on finding out who has their eye on me.”

Mary May groaned. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to end badly? I can already tell this is going to turn into a ‘Wren-Gets-Into-More-Trouble-Than-She-Anticipated’ moment.”

“Where’s your faith, May?”

“Extremely low considering the last week.”

“Oh…well yeah, that’s fair.”

“So, the name of the tattoo parlor?”

“Right, hang on.” I turned back, checking to make sure Sharky was still out of sight before my eyes fall to the glass. “It’s called—"

I froze, frowning as I eyed the decal on the window. I can’t help but feel irritated, knowing that I had seen that symbol somewhere but couldn’t think of where for the life of me. I pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache began to form.

“Wren?”

“Oh, yeah. Uhm, it’s called Garden of…of Eden…?” I almost scoffed. There was no fucking way. “Yeah, okay, so this guy is religious. Or likes to play with a religious theme. I half expect him to be old and gross. And if that’s the case, tell him I’m a lesbian.”

She snorted. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Thank you.” Just as I hung up, a little alert came through, announcing a new text. As I read it, my heart sank. Fuck.

Update? You’ve been silent too long. -JH

Welp. There was that. With everything going on, I completely forgot that I was actually supposed to be checking in with them, giving updates as things progressed. I bit my lip, trying hard to think of a good response. If they found out I had moved in with John, they would know something was up. This had to be done delicately or we were all screwed. Me, above the rest, though.

Made some progress with the youngest brother. Having dinner. Will keep you updated.

Shoving the phone in my pocket, I make my way to my new car. I was just ready to crawl in bed, sleep forever, and pretend this wasn’t fucking happening. This had only gotten worse, people shifting their attention towards me like never before. It was annoying and I wanted it over with. I couldn’t wait to leave, to go somewhere secluded where no one would ever be able to find me unless I wanted them to.

I drove back quickly, doing my best to avoid the traffic. Eyeing the black Audi, I groan. That only meant that John was back, and I really didn’t have the patience for this asshole anymore today. Part of me hoped that he would be holed up in his office, and I took comfort in it.

But all of that came crashing down when I stepped into the penthouse, loud music playing, the lights dimmed except for his massive lounge. Laughter and thrilled shrieking joined the music, forcing my headache to get even worse. I began to make my way over cautiously, eyeing Jane as she leaned against the separating wall of the room and hallway. She gave me a look as I stepped into the light of the room.

Nothing in this world really shocks me anymore, but I have to hand it to him, John Seed kept me on my toes. “What the fuck?’ I muttered under my breath, taking in the scene before me. John had the same suit on from this morning, or what was left of it. The vest was gone along with the jacket, his sleeves rolled up and the woman half across his lap must have been responsible for unbuttoning half the buttons, or ripping them, seeing that there were a few scattered on the floor. She was in a bright red dress that clung to her curves almost revealing, and she had no issue with pressing all of it against him. Her blonde hair curled and falling messily out of some sort of updo.

The two men on the adjacent part of the couch were no better. Though the women that accompanied them seemed a bit…paid for. They were older, rich by the looks of it, and I’m sure they lived like kings. I recognized one as Charles, the man I had tried to steal from, and the other was a man I hadn’t seen before. He had a half-assed combover with a gut.

“Who the fuck is this?”

I turned at the sound of the blonde’s shitty tone. Her red lipstick is a bit smeared, leaving some on the collar of John’s shirt and his neck. The eyeliner being smudged gave her a coked-out vibe that I wasn’t sure sat well with me, and eyeing the living room table, I found out why. Lines of white powder, nice and neat, laid contrasting against the black glass, and looking at John, I could see remnants of is in his facial hair. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, his face flushed out. He looked at her with a lazy smile.

“No one, Holly. Don’t worry about her.” John drawled.

I narrowed my eyes at him as Jane sighed behind me. My jaw ticked as I tried to evaluate the situation. I felt like I had just come home to find my husband cheating, and not in the sense that I was betrayed by someone I loved. No. It was the feeling like I was the butt of a joke, that I was to be humiliated, and I was pathetic even being here to confront him for it.

“Right. I’m no one.” I echoed emptily. He caught my gaze once more, the challenge there in his eyes. “That’s exactly how the conversation went.” I’m not a jealous girlfriend—or fiancé—in this moment. I’m a pissed off business partner, who has found just how irresponsible her associate is; that had realized that this was a side of John Seed that wasn’t expected. I might have hated John Seed, but he had my respect.

Until now.

John smirked before hanging his head back. “Please go away. The last thing I want to deal with now is you. You’re ruining my fun with my friends.”

“Your friends?” I scoffed. A sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach made me cringe. “You call these people your friends?”

He laughs, looking at Holly. “She doesn’t even like to have sex. Such a fucking prude. Doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart.” The fat one called. “You can come over here and I’ll teach yah!”

I scoffed glancing down at my shoes, trying to ignore the sting in my chest, and I look back up with a mocking laugh. “No, I have more self-respect than that. Unlike the other’s in this room, it seems.” I walk closer to John, his smirk falling at my words as I lean down. “Yeah, I might not be on your level of a good fucking time, and I lie, manipulate, and steal.” I sneered lowly as Holly returned to the table with a rolled up hundred-dollar bill. “But what I don’t do…is lie to myself. I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not for the sake of so-called friends that want nothing from me, but drugs and money. I don’t fill that dark hole with useless shit.” I lean back, taking a step away. “I may not have liked you, but I at least respected you. Disappointing that you don’t.” I sighed, looking at his little plaything. Clearing my throat, making a show of wiping my nose. “You gotta little something…”

She glared at me, rubbing the back of her hand against her nose, but traces of cocaine lingered. “Fuck off!”

“Classy.” I replied unamused, before quickly turning and walking out. “I hope you enjoy yourselves.” Jane met my gaze as I passed her, her eyes sad and tired. My heart is heavy for her, knowing that it was not just her boss, but her brother-in-law in there, wasting his life away on the things that didn’t matter. For people who would never give a shit about him.

“He wasn’t always like that, you know.”

I stop as I enter the main hall, my eyes catching the sight of Joseph leaning against the wall in the dark. He’s wearing a simple suit, similar to what he had worn yesterday, with the same damn sunglasses. “What? Arrogant, misguided, and heartless?”

He threw me a look, those eyes searching my soul until he pushed himself off the wall. “Walk with me.” Giving a slight nod towards the balcony outside, I walk next to him slowly.

Joseph is completely at ease, despite this not being his scene. He seemed so out of place, but he took it in stride. He pushed the sliding glass door open, the cooler air hitting us as we stepped out. Shutting the door behind us, he turned and walked towards the railing, leaning against it as he admired the view. It was fully dark by now, the lights of the city competing with the stars in the sky.

“My brother is most of those things and more, but heartless isn’t one of them.” Joseph finally spoke, drawing my attention to him, seeing the lights reflect in the yellow lens. “He would like you to believe that, because well…I guess that would make him stronger…untouchable, in a sense, yes?”

I leaned with him, deep in thought and hanging onto his every word. “Yes, I suppose that would make anyone feel invincible.”

“Hmm.” He gave me a glance before turning back and sighing. “John used to be such a loving child, constantly laughing and smiling, believe it or not. His parents…his parents ripped that from him.”

“You mean your parents.” I corrected with a furrowed brow, but Joseph just shook his head and looked at me.

“No, I mean John’s parents.” He cleared his throat a bit before continuing. “I’m going to tell you this because I need this to work between the two of you. I need you to work together and right now, that partnership is in flames. Anymore stress, and one of you is bound to explode, and John is infamous for his anger issues, especially to his enemies. And Ms. Blake, despite only knowing you for only 24 hours, I do not with that upon you. But this goes nowhere, do you understand? This stays between us.”

It’s quiet for a second as his eyes drill into mine, and I realize he’s waiting for an answer. “Oh. Yes, of course. I understand. I won’t say a word.”

Satisfied, he turned back to the city and I followed suit, hyperaware of Joseph’s words as they fall from his lips. “I suppose I should start from the very beginning. Our father was a…god fearing man. Knew the bible like the back of his hand. And while he held bible verses in one, he held a drink in another. He was an alcoholic and well…he took a lot of it out on us.”

“And your mother?” I whispered, my heart starting to ache.

“Oh, well, she was there, but she wasn’t.” he sighed. “I didn’t know it as well as I do now. Maybe I had known, I just didn’t want to admit it or accept it. But she was absent, locked away in the bedroom days at a time. I can’t say for sure if it was pills or a needle, but I knew well enough back then that she wasn’t of much help to any of us. It was Jacob who protected us.”

“He definitely seems like the type.” I muttered, remembering the towering man, and Joseph chuckled. “So, what happened?”

Joseph clicks his tongue matter-of-factly. “It was John, actually. That’s how they found out. He went to school with bruises on him and the teacher saw. The next thing we knew…child protective services had come for us.” It’s quiet again as he pauses, and I absorb the information. Even with the sounds of the city, you can hear the water in the pool, and it’s relaxing. There’s a loud cheering from inside and Joseph decides to break the silence. “We got adopted, of course. But…well, they were worse than what we came from, and Jacob being Jacob…well, he wouldn’t ever stand for it.”

“What did he do?”

“He caught their barn on fire.” I frowned immediately, flinching away as if he had slapped me, but Joseph paid no mind, not noticing my reaction. “Then he beat them to death. And they deserved it, but the authorities didn’t see it that way. So, they took Jacob away from us. Not long after that, John was finally adopted.” Another sigh as he shifted. “And these people, swore to be good Christian people, but didn’t know the meaning of it. Swore that John was born evil, born in sin.” He looked at me with a shake of his head. “Misplaced belief breeds disaster. Always.”

The way he said it made a chill go up my spine, my body going cold with dread. “They sound insane.”

“You haven’t even heard the half of it, my dear.” Joseph clenched and unclenched his hands as he stared at them. “They beat him, manipulated him, tore him down until he was exactly what they wanted. He was a shell of himself. Made him confess to sins he had never committed and made it to where he believed he was wrong. His whole existence was nothing but sin. So, he learned how to be the perfect son. Learned how to become a chameleon of sorts, changing colors and pieces of himself for each interaction and person. Something I’m sure you can relate to?”

I shift uncomfortably under his gaze, because it’s so true. Both of us trained and taught to be what others wanted us to be, to be the perfect shining example that stood above the rest. I hated that he was right, that there were similarities between the two of us that shook me to the core, and I wanted to rip it away. To deny any of it, because I would never do what he was doing now. Never would I fall so low.

Become one of his coked-up buddies he keeps around, for all I fucking care. If you value your life, you’ll do this.

A sick feeling twists inside as Hurk Sr’s words whisper harshly in my mind. I did value my life, and I wasn’t so sure of what I would and wouldn’t do anymore. If someone had asked me a few months ago if I would stage an engagement, I would’ve laughed in their face. But yet, here I was, in a situation I had sworn I would never allow myself to get into; a situation where someone else was in control and pulling the strings. I couldn’t really say anything anymore.

“He quit for a while.” Joseph murmured. “John hasn’t…he hasn’t done something like this in a very long time. But we need the partnership, I need them in there to align with us. He knows that…and this was his way…this is my fault, and I know that. John would do anything for his family.”

“You didn’t ask him to do any of that, Joseph.” I whispered. “We make our own choices. And there’s another way, John just…doesn’t know how to apply it yet.” I don’t know why I was defending him, but I knew I spoke from experience. When you didn’t know how else to handle a situation, you always fell on bad habits. They were the most comfortable.

“I’m hoping he will get better. He has, really. But tonight has me worried.” He scoffed. “The Duncan’s did a hell of a job on him, and I’m doing what I can to break their hold. After dead for so many years, you would think their influence would’ve died with them.”

My heart stops as I look at Joseph. “What? What did you say?” He gave me a confused look, and I clarified. “The name. Who?”

“The Duncan’s. They were John’s adoptive parents. Before he changed it back, John’s last name was Duncan.” I swallow as Joseph looked away, brushing something off his suit jacket.

John Duncan.

[ephemeral-afterlight]

Day 27: Ransom

(Protect those you love), prepare to leave it all behind.

Whumptober 2019 Day 27: Ransom

Word Count: 2161

Relationships: Intrulogical

Warnings: Kidnapping, physical violence/weapon (knife), blood and injuries, mentions of torture, threats of non-con to another character, vulgar/explicit language, mentions of drug usage/bad parenting/death of a minor character (not a side), cursing

A/N: hmm... i don't really know what to think of this one, to be honest. it feels weird to write right now, since i'm a bit sick, but i don't know. maybe it's not as awful as it feels like it is. who knows. anyway, have this shit. i'm not really a huge intrulogical shipper, since i don't actually ship remus with anybody (i hc him as aro), but logan fit so here we are.

It’s pretty cold here. Remus knows that being kidnapped and held hostage in a basement however far below the surface isn’t a particularly forgiving situation, but couldn’t his kidnapper give him a blanket or something? It’s too fuckin’ cold for this! And it’s weird, because the guy seems pretty warm himself despite not even wearing a jacket or anything, just a t-shirt, and it makes Remus a little jealous. Remus is always cold, but this place just makes it worse.

He doesn’t even know why he’s here, either. He’s not special, doesn’t stand out, isn’t known for any notable actions or anything. He’s just a simple guy, a dude who lives in a shit apartment and works two jobs in fast food and bartending. He’s pretty common, in society’s eyes, so… why is he here? 

The blow to the head had been delivered from behind, just after Remus has gotten into his apartment after work. It came when he least expected it, which is so not fair, because he would have loved to fight the guy. Have a fun old-fashioned full-out brawl in his living room at two in the morning, show him what he’s got. It could have been a fun end to his shitty night, but no, of course the guy had to take the coward’s way out and avoid the fight completely. What a fucking bore.

Now, sitting here tied to this chair in the middle of the room, Remus doesn’t even really feel the pain from the big knot on his head. There’s better things to worry about, like “Am I out of milk?” and “Will I get back in time to catch the season finale of the television show I’ve been following since the premiere?”. Besides, injuries are nothing new to Remus, having grown up playing only contact sports, so a little bonk on the head is nothing compared to the evenings he’d come home from practice or games with welts and bruises littering every inch of his skin. Before she died, his mom would freak out over the blood and cuts on his arms and legs, but then he’d give her a toothy grin with multiple teeth missing from being knocked out, and she’d just shake her head and clean him up. His mom was super cool, before she became a druggie and too busy fucking whoever was closest to come home and take care of her kids.

Anyway, Remus still doesn’t get why he of all people had to have been kidnapped, because it’s not like he’s some important figure or in any sort of position of power. He holds sway exactly Nowhere, and therefore isn’t exactly the ideal choice when stealing someone from their home for your own gain. Whoever this guy is, he’s kind of a dumbass.

“Listen up. You’re gonna sit here, smile into the camera really pretty, and you ain’t sayin’ a word unless I tell you to. Got it?” the guy demands as he sets up a tripod, and Remus just snickers. His kidnapper gives him a withering glare as he settles the camera into the correct spot, and then walk around to the other wide to line the shot up the way he wants it. “What’s so funny?”

“Just wonderin’ what the video’s for. Who you gonna send it to, my dead grandma?” Remus asks, licks his lips with a grin as he wiggles in his seat. The ropes around his wrists are tight, but definitely loose enough to slip out of if he pulls hard enough. Remus gets to work using his sharp fingernails to slice through through the rope one strand at a time, to try and reduce the circumference and be able to slide it far enough through the knot that he’ll be able to just yank his hands free. Remus guesses that all those years of putting up with Roman’s boy scouts phase weren’t a complete waste.

“Nope. You got a brother, it’s goin’ to him,” the kidnapper replies with a sneer. He’s finally finished setting the camera up, presses a button to start it rolling, and the red light begins to blink. Remus raises an eyebrow as the kidnapper settles back slightly further from the tripod and pulls out a stack of note cards, and it’s with a barely contained giggle Remus realizes that he had to write his speech down.

“Proof of life,” the guy says into the microphone with a much deeper, more gruff voice than before, and it takes so much effort to not burst out into raucous laughter. “If you want your poor little brother here back to you alive, you’re gonna leave no less than 200 thousand in a bag at the address provided. Unmarked bills, no cops. You leave the money, and then you get your ass out of there. If you call the police or try to pull any tricks, little bro here is gettin’ a bullet to the face. Once I confirm the money’s clean, he’ll be dropped off somewhere within walking distance of help, alive. You have three days. If that money still isn’t with me by the time midnight rolls around come Saturday, he’s dead.”

The kidnapper presses a button on the top of the camera and the red light stops blinking with a little click. Just in time, too, because Remus busts out into uncontrollable laughter as soon as the camera stops recording. His lungs and chest hurt with how hard he’s laughing,  but he can’t stop, and the offended, angry look on the guy’s face just makes him laugh harder. 

“Stop fuckin’ laughing!” his kidnapper snaps, but his voice cracks at the end, and Remus is in tears. It’s pretty predictable when the guy rushes him and punches him in the jaw, knocking the rest of his breath out of his lungs in a pained wheeze. Remus barely has a moment to recover before the guy’s fist is buried in his gut, forcing a hacking cough from Remus’ throat. He wants to keep laughing, but now it hurts like a bitch to even breathe, so maybe staying quiet for now is the best option.

“I said I’d bring you back alive, not unharmed. Don’t fucking push me,” the guy growls maliciously, a cold glint in his eyes as he reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a switchblade, flips the knife out in a way that shines the metal’s reflection of the light in Remus’ face. How annoying. The kidnapper presses the knife into Remus’ throat, in the same spot he’s had tracheostomies performed when his airway was blocked, and the feeling of smooth, sharp metal just centimeters away from his trachea is almost comforting in its familiarity.

“Fuck you,” Remus responds hoarsely, spits as much as he can and it lands on his kidnapper’s chin. Remus knows he’s going to be pissed, knows the fallout will be painful as fuck, but he can’t really seem to bring himself to care. He doesn’t regret it, either, not even when the guy yells out in anger and slams his fist into Remus’ stomach again. He doesn’t regret it when the guy mutters something about teaching him a lesson, he doesn’t regret it when he replaces his switchblade with the bigger chef’s knife laying on the shelf in the corner, and he certainly doesn’t regret it when the guy returns with a sadistic grin.

Remus will brag about what happens next for so, so long after he gets out of here, because it’s the funniest shit he’s ever done. The disheveled man brings the knife to Remus’ chest and pushes the blade into his skin, slowly slicing it open as the fresh cut forms a bleeding slash. But Remus doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even yell from the pain. He just moans, one that isn’t of fear but rather high-pitched and obscene, a mockery of sex that leaves him barely able to hold onto the laugh that wants to push past his harshly gritted teeth. “Harder, daddy!”

And that’s probably the last straw, because the end of the cut turns much less clean in the guy’s lividity. The blade presses deeper into his skin, draws more blood and elicits more pain to radiate from his chest, and it takes more effort than Remus would like to not cry out. As much as he doesn find real humour in this situation, he can’t really afford to die here, so staying the dominant, unafraid personality to this man who obviously fears a lack of control is important. He can’t show fear, because that will just bolster the guy’s confidence and keep his head clear enough to not make mistakes. However, if he’s upset and feeling undermined, his anger will cause him to slip up, and allow Remus the opportunity to turn the tables on him. It does sound easy in hindsight, but slacking off won’t help any, so Remus focuses in on burying the pain below a layer of numbness.

“You know what? Maybe I won’t send it to your little brother. Maybe I won’t return you at all. Maybe, I’ll just keep you here, tied up so you can only sit there as I torture your little boyfriend,” the kidnapper seethes, and his eyes narrow as an even more deranged smile slips onto his face when Remus stiffens uncontrollably. “What, that hit a nerve? You scared for your little boy toy? What was his name… Logan, right? I know where he lives. And I’ll steal him from his bed, bring him here and force you to watch while I slice him up. Maybe I’ll make you watch me fuck him, take care of him better than you ever could, hmm? How about that? Want me to fuck your boyfriend for you? I saw him, y’know, a cute little nerd with glasses. Nice ass, skinny waist… he’s almost like a girl. Maybe I’ll keep him for myself, after I kill you, fuck him every single day while he just cries for his poor ol’e Remus.”

No. No, no, no no nononono. How dare he?! You can do anything to Remus. You can threaten him, make fun of him, torture him, and he’d laugh in your face. But this guy has the fucking nerve to bring his boyfriend into this? No. Unacceptable. This isn’t-- fuck.

And Remus knows he should stay calm, not let his words get to him, but…he knows Logan’s name. And apparently, where Logan lives. What if he does take Logan, does hurt him while Remus can’t even do anything about it, helplessly tied to a chair? What if this guy hurts his baby, hurts his Logan, and Remus could’ve prevented it? It’s far too easy to imagine Logan’s eyes filled with fear, the attempts to stave off tears, muffled cries of pain. All he can see in his mind is Logan traumatized, and for the very first time, the thought of sex makes Remus feel sick to his stomach.

So with an enraged snarl, Remus yanks his hands free from the flimsy rope keeping then locked behind the back of the chair, and then lunges. He relishes in the surprised yelp, the angered fear in his eyes, the way he scrambles to fight back far too late. Because he’s pinned under Remus, and once he’s got someone in his grip, he isn’t letting go. For probably too long, Remus just sits there, beating his kidnapper with shaking fists. The man fell unconscious a while ago, hasn’t been a threat for minutes, but Remus doesn’t have any other way to take out his frustration besides sitting here on top of this guy, pummeling him to hell and back. Eventually, his arms fall limply to his sides, and Remus’ eyes dull as he slouches over. His breathing is light and trembling, and there’s a feeling welling up in his chest that he doesn’t understand, can’t pinpoint or identify. His legs feel like they’re on fire when he pushes himself to his feet, burn when he sways a bit in an attempt to keep his balance. 

Remus doesn’t know where he is, or how far he was taken from his home, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what Remus has to go through, because as he climbs the ladder out of this cellar and emerges in a long, dark hallway, he knows. He knows as he trudges to the end, as he whips open the door on the other side to reveal an alleyway. He knows as he gets to the road, recognizes the bakery across the bustling traffic, and when he turns in the opposite direction of his apartment. He knows when he sees the green sign at the intersection, sees the familiar name of Logan’s street, when he approaches his apartment complex. He knows that Logan’s going to be okay, because he’s going to make sure of it, and Remus vows that nobody will ever be able to threaten his boyfriend ever again.

[qunpin]

INT. DARK STAGE - NIGHT OPENING CREDITS: A SPOTLIGHT slices black space. In its beam, a DANCER materializes. She is fair-skinned. Beautiful and pure. The maiden twirls on point, a smile on her face, light as air and carefree. She pauses, her face grows worried. Sensing someone watching . Scared, she peers into the darkness.   She moves now, looking, growing more frantic. Then, a SINISTER MAN emerges out of the darkness behind her. She stumbles backwards, frightened. She tries to escape, twirling away, but he pursues. His true form is revealed, the demon ROTHBART. He flings his open hand towards her, casting the spell. She wants to scream, but nothing comes out. She looks at her body, sensing something happening to her. Something terrifying.  She spins, panicking, but it’s too late. She disappears beneath the beast’s cape. She emerges as the WHITE SWAN, the iconic protagonist of SWAN LAKE. CUT TO BLACK. @jwhik​

wasn’t    it   all     true   violence     ?       in  song   -    in   dance,    in  the   fine   motion  of  a  knife   that   slits  across  the  crevasse  of  a   neck,        the  thunderclap    of     ballistic    bullets   raving   past    your       face.       was     it    the    potent   squish    of    ones   neck    ---  the  fine  intimacies   of   murder    ;   or  sweet   death.      the   bad   kills  the   bad,       sometimes  ,  the  bad   kills   the   worse   of   them   all  ---   one  could  say   it  wasn’t   murder,     it  was   mitzvah.     the    act   alone   religious   ties   and   knots   in  her   hair.    she   was    elegant  and  boyish   ,       the   black   swan   standing   beneath  a   beam   of    light  ,     warm   and  confronting   ---   yet   also   hell.        she   twists   and  turns  ,   breaks   her  back   and  binds   her   body   to   the  floor   only    for   no   one   to   see.      her  skin  is  colors   of   the  rainbow  ,  both   blue   purple    &  green  ,    mouth   busted   and  it  wasn’t   from  a  kiss  that   became   too   passionate  .         she   lives   in  a  shadow    ,    in  a  institute   that   salutes   and  quietly   praises   it’s  successor  ---    the   babayka        ,    which     made    no   sense   to    her,     tone   of   history   &  folklore   lost   in  the  English   translation   ---   but   he   was   indeed    the   boogyman.     Had   he   not   haunted   her  dreams   for   reasons   unbeknown    ,     she   wouldn’t   be   a  pilled   up   mess    in   front   of   his   feet.

JOHN WICK :  anything could’ve happened to you.        

she    as   stubborn   ,  boisterous     and   strong   as  a  trees   stump,    roots   deep    within  the  earth,    you’d   have  to  bulldozer  her   down  .      She   was   reckless,   intolerant  and  impatient   with  the  process ,       compared   to   him     ,  she  was  a   folly   child   -    he   was  a  man  grown  in  age   with   a  few   grey   hairs   to   show  it.       she’d   never  compare   to   him,      the  boogyman   ,    she  was   a   black   swan   with  tethered   wings.         Her   potential   was   plenty,    but   she  simply   wasn’t   ready.         upon    her   cheek    is    a  smug ,          blood     , if  it    were   hers   didn’t   matter  -    she’s   alive  .     coddled   up   in   cheap   pink   fur   (    probably   not   even   fur )     she    slouches   into    the    red  seats,        pouting   like  a   goddamn   infant   .        she   was   violent,   violence   in   it’s  most   delicate    ways     and   he,   somehow   ,   were   a   painter ,    merging   these   violent  colors    together    .           rubbing    her   apparent      cherry   (   blood   )   red    lips    together     she    toys    with   her   plate   of  food,        they   never   feed    quite   well   back   there  ,   the   figure  of  a  ballerina   was   a  distinct   one.       ❛❛     but   nothing   did    because  I  can  handle   myself,      I  know   people   think   I   can’t    but   I    can.    ❜❜    her   tone   is   defensive,     she’s   always   so  cruel   ,    maybe   it  deflecting  ,   attacking   others   before   they   could   attack   her,   spoiling  every   possible    good   moment  ,   like   botrytis   on  fruit      ---     rotten      ,   sweet     white    wine.            ❛❛     what    is   it   like     being    you    ?       you    hate  what  you  do   or,  at  least   you   hate  your  fucking   self  ,  and  everyone   lives  under  this  shadow   of   the  boogyman   who    isn’t   so  scary  at all .  people  want   to  prove   themselves  ,  and   killing   you   looks  like  a   great   start.     You   are   the   goddamn   standard    of    this   place,  and  God   forbid   I  go   a   day   inside  that  building   without   your  name  being  whispered.      John   wick   ,    john  wick      --      it’s   this   shroud   darkness,     greatness   to   you,    it  effects   everyone.     I   don’t   even   know   who   I  am,    I   just   want   to   be   better   than   you  ,  and  maybe   I’m   no   one   without  your   competition.       ❜❜   this   was   a  game   to   her.   @jwhik​

[waif-of-the-night]

Sex and Violence

Part 3

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Rewrite Masterlist

masterlist

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer

Warnings: canon Violence

A/n: Check out my 100followers Drabble Challange! To be added to tag lists, send an ask/message or leave a comment!

You spent almost half an hour driving before you found Sam, in the hospital parking lot, walking out. You got out of your car and calmly walked over to him, with a grip at the handle of your gun in your belt behind your back, remembering Dean’s warnings that he could be dangerous. He stopped in his tracks as soon as he saw you before him. “(Y/N), what are you doing here?” he asked, before he noticed the stiffness in your expressions and your hand behind your back. He shook his head frustratingly before he got back to you. “Dean talked to you, huh?” Apparently Dean was able to get a hold of Sam and they talked. Fought, more correctly, from the way he took Dean’s name. You gave him a slight nod before you asked, “He thinks its Cara. Did you sleep with her Sam?” A sigh left his mouth, “Yeah, I did. But she’s not the siren. And I’m not infected.” “Sam-” you started but he interrupted before you could say anything. “(Y/N), trust me. It’s not her. Dean doesn’t trust me but I need at least you to trust me that I’m not infected and won’t hurt you.” You took a second, studying his face before you pushed your gun back in the holster and brought your hands forward, telling him that you believed him. “Well, then we should go back and try to figure out who is the siren.” You suggested. “You’re right. But on second thought, from the way Dean was talking I think I should stay here a while, in case he comes after Cara with his ‘shoot first ask questions later’ attitude.” “Fair. Then I guess I’ll get back and try to reach there before he does in ase he decides to go back or he’ll know I came for you despite him. And I know I’ll never hear the end of it.” you chuckled as you both agreed to the plan and Sam turned to walk back but stopped as he called out your name. You answered in a ‘yeah’ before he could speak. “Um, thanks for trusting me on this. If only Dean did too...” he had this disappointed look on his face on the mention of Dean which made your doubt of their probable fight sure. You gave him reassuring smile, “Of course. Also, thanks for not, you know, not wanting to kill me.” A small chuckle left both of your mouths, “So call it even?” “Sure.” He smiled as you both walked away in your directions. --------------------------------------------------------- You hurried your way back to the motel in hopes Dean wasn’t there as you turned the knob to your door and pushed it open to find a strange guy just casually sitting on your bed. He had a smug grin on his face and an unusual stance. Your hand immediately went back to your gun but you suddenly felt someone knock your gun out of your hand before you could properly grip it and the door slam shut behind you. Your head turned right away to see it was Dean who had thrown your gun to the other side of the room and before you could do anything, he had one of his hands locking your hands behind you, twisting your body towards the other man, and the other hand holding a knife to your throat. The man rose from the bed, taking small steps towards you, “I’m Nick by the way.” He introduced himself and everything became somewhat clear to you. “Nick the FBI guy. Of course.” You scoffed as you struggled under Dean’s grip, “But I gotta tell you, you’re one ugly stripper.” “Well, maybe.” He answered, self-satisfied. “But I got what I wanted. I got Dean.” “Dean, come on.” You diverted your attention to him, hoping to shake him out of the siren’s ‘song’. “This isn’t you. You can fight this. Let me go.” “Why don’t you cut her just a little on her neck right there?” Nick hinted Dean, motioning his fingers to the spot on your neck and Dean just did exactly what he said as a drop blood rolled down the cut on your skin towards your collarbone. “You know, at first I just wanted his little brother Sam out of the way, hence, this.” He directed his hands towards his body, indicating to his ‘man’ body. “Be the better brother and have him out the way. But the more I got into his mind, the more I realized it was you that I wanted out of the way first. Although I have to give it to you, you really stand out in the way you occupy his mind. Hard to find, but there.” “Yeah well, bite me.” You retorted. “You poisoned him.” “No. I gave him what he needed. And it wasn’t some bitch in a g-string. It was someone he could trust. Someone who trusted him. And now he loves me. He’d do anything for me. And I got to tell you, (y/n), that kind of devotion- watching someone kill for you...is the best feeling in the world.” “Is that why you’re slutting all over town?” you let out as you tried to slip a hand under Dean’s grip. “Oh. I get bored. Like we all do. And I want to fall in love again. And again and again.” He answered as he leaned even closer to you. “Tell you what, I have fought some nasty ass sons of bitches,” you distracted him as you let your hand further loose, “But you are one needy, pathetic loser.” You finished and were able to free your hand, using it to twist Dean’s hand that made him lose his hold on you and you turned and kicked him in the groin making him lose his knife along with his balance. You stood back to regain your breath while the siren decided to step back and watch how the events would turn out. It didn’t take Dean much time to get back to his feet, waiting for orders and lunged himself at you as soon as Nick asked him, “Kill her for me, Dean.” He went straight for your throat but you fought his hands off of them as you landed with your back against a wall and Dean over you, already throwing punches at you, showing no mercy. You defended yourself against the first one but the second one hit, and left a bruised cheek and busted lip. “Dean, please. You can fight him.” The words left your mouth again and again, only this time, he answered. “Oh but why should I? For you?” he chuckled darkly at you. “You’re nothing but a freak. A freak that’s ruined so many lives. Your brother Jonathan that you speak so dotingly of, would be alive of it wasn’t for you. You know it and I know it, that demons would never have gone after him if he wasn’t your brother. You’re the reason he’s dead.” You didn’t notice the tear that rolled down your cheek as you just looked into his dark eyes that seemed nothing but empty. You clenched your fist as you lost control over yourself and in a flash of time you were over him, landed punches after another straight to his face at a speed that he wasn’t able to defend himself from all of them. Blood started to seep out from the side of his face and cheek but you didn’t care. Anger had taken control of you when you noticed the knife you had knocked out of his hand lying close to your right and the next second it was in your hand. The cold metal of the knife was pressed against his throat now, just waiting to slice through, as his face continued to taunt you. “Come on, do it.” you heard Nick’s voice from the other side of the room and somehow knocked something in you as you dropped the knife, finding yourself unable hurt him anymore. You heard the door slam open and turned to see a confused Sam in the doorway who almost instantly understood the situation and pulled his gun out, aiming at the siren but the siren was quicker as before Sam could fire a shot, he twisted his wrist making his grip falter and clutched his face with the other hand and spit on his mouth, infecting him with his toxin too. Sam’s tense shoulders instantly relaxed as you felt Dean standing up, waiting for command from Nick like a good soldier while Sam did the same. “This should be interesting.” Nick grinned wickedly. “Okay boys, why don’t we play a little game in which whoever kills her first, can be with me forever.” Sam was the first one to attack as he pushed your body straight into the wooden wall so hard that you landed in the hallway outside the room with the pieces of wall underneath you. You propped yourself above with the help of your elbow but before you could stand, Sam was already pulling you up, ready for round two but Dean threw him off, wanting to be the one to finish you off. You landed back on the ground, with not much left in you when you saw Dean using his elbow to break the glass of the emergency window and pull out a red colored ax from it. He raised his hands over his head, ready to plunge it straight through you as you pressed your eyes closed just wanting it to be over. But instead of the cold metal of ax, you heard Dean’s grunt which made you open your eyes and see that Bobby was here with a bronze dagger in his hand, already laced in Dean’s blood. The siren ran towards the opposite direction at the sight of him but could run far before the dagger was thrown flying right into his chest, killing him for good. The effect of his toxin seemed to have started to wear off when you noticed the confused then horrifying looks on Sam and Dean upon realizing what had happened. --------------------- You were standing with your back pressed against the side of your car and a beer in your hand, looking out to nothing in particular when you felt Dean’s hesitant steps stop beside you. They both had apologized for what had happened earlier before leaving the town but something told you Dean wasn’t quite done with it yet. “You know I didn’t mean what I said back there, right?” “Yeah, I know.” You offered him a small smile. You noticed the big bruises that were still bright red on his face while yours had already half disappeared. You raised your hand towards his face in order to help him with those but he softly pulled them down, lightly shaking his head. “Let them be. That’s the least I deserve for what I did.” He said. Silence fell between the two of you before Bobby walked in along with Sam and you turned your gaze towards them. “Thanks Bobby. You hadn’t showed up when you did...” you spoke but Bobby answered before you needed to complete that sentence. “Done the same for me, more than once.” He said, “You kids gonna be okay?” You nodded while Sam answered in ‘fine’ and Dean in a ‘good’. With that Bobby walked back but turned one last time, “You know, those sirens are nasty things. There’s no reason to feel bad, that it got to you.” He advised before getting in his car and driving off, leaving the three of you alone with yourselves, and each other.

Forever Tags: @roonyxx @webcraft4eveh @itslizabitch8021 @jessikared97

[suga-angel]

A Crossroad Deal (6)

Summary: After getting out of a long term relationship, you try to move on with your life. However, having spent the last three years unavailable, you are not sure you know how to get back out there again, let alone if you even want to. That is, until you meet Jeon Jungkook, the barista at your college coffee shop. He is more than happy to help you wet your toes in the dating scene again, but at what cost?

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: A little of everything

Word Count: 5k

College!Jungkook, somewhat FuckBoy!Jungkook

A/N: Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy!

Chop chop chop.

The sharpened metal sliced through its target with mastered ease. Every slice produced was cut with nearly impossible uniformity, with only the bare minimal going to waste. With each downwards glide of the knife, sharp aromas burst into the air, stimulating the senses. The smell alone encouraged the blade to move faster to the point that it waltzed along its wooden dance floor in a blur of vibrant red, green, and sterling silver. The experience was mesmerizing in itself; the outcome all the greater.

“Look at them.” A nearby voice sneered, judgment rolling from it in waves. The sound drew your thoughts away from your task long enough for your concentration to slip. The knife you had been skillfully wielding to chop up the peppers missed its target and instead kissed the side of your finger. A sharp hiss passed your lips from the sting, but your roommate continued to glare into the living room ignorantly. “Longing around the living room with a beer in hand while us women slave away in the kitchen. What are we, freakin’ house wives?”

“Yes,” You spat with as little condescension as could be managed while using your other hand to rummage through the junk drawer blindly for the bandage box. “Because the division of labor between us two women is split so evenly.”

“What?” She had the nerve to raise the pitch of her voice as she averted her gaze away from the boys. “I’ve helped!”

Using your teeth you tore at the bandage wrapping, all while leveling Minjin with an even stare. “Namjoon has been more of a help and his only job is to not break anything.”

“And a wonderful job I’ve been doing.” Namjoon sauntered in, raising his beer in a silent cheer. “Plus, me and Minho hyung carried everything up here and set up the living room while somebody fussed about their make-up.”

Your roommate’s cheeks tinged pink. “He was early! I had to hurry and get ready!”

“Actually, I was on time.” A pair of arms slithered around the woman’s waist from behind, eliciting a small yelp from her. “You were running late.”

“Again.” Namjoon accentuated your guest’s statement while sipping at his bear. “Plus, how long have you two been together? Does it even matter if he sees you without make up anymore?”

The couple both responded in contradicting fashions, much to your amusement. However, with a quick glance at the time, it faded quickly. With new fervor, you quickly went back to preparing your concoction. “Two minutes ‘til game time guys.”

That quickly woke everyone up. Namjoon sat down his beer and stepped up. “Okay, less than a hundred and twenty seconds on the clock guys. Y/N, finish up your salsa and cheese dip, hyung, check the bean dip in the oven, Minjin, grab the alcohol and shot classes, I’ll get the sliders and hot dogs, meet in the living room in sixty seconds. Break!”

With a clap of the hands, the kitchen broke out into frenzy. Right off the bat Namjoon started moving before the play was called, starting the desperate college students off badly with a false start.  The game then picked up with Minjin racing to the liquor cabinets only to be blocked by Minho approaching from her left. Meanwhile, Namjoon scrambled around them and headed for his target. Entrees in hand, he set his eyes on the end zone. However, first step in that direction and he’s fumbling the play. He frantically let out a desperate cry as he lunged to reclaim it, but Minho stealthily intercepts it.

“Check the bean dip!” he shouted over his shoulder as he scrambles around Minjin, who was struggling with her position as drink handler. To his right, you did your best to pull a hail Mary with your concoctions in the middle of this broken play.

“Done!” Namjoon let out a victorious shout as he reached in the oven bare handed to pull out the dip. Spotting her teammates error in judgment, Minjin cried out towards him but it is too late. With an anguish filled yelp, Namjoon stumbled back, cradling his burnt hand to his chest.

“Oppa, get to the living room, I got this!” you ordered to Minho, piling your prized recipes in your injured roommates arms before shoving him towards the end zone. “Go, go, go!”

His injury quickly forgotten, he hugged the bowls in his arms and rans down the field. You’re just about to get back to your task when you spot it; Minjin forgot the packet of shot glasses. “Oppa! Heads up!” You tossed the package to Minho, affectively passing them into the end zone. All that is left now is the dip.

“Y/N, hurry, the games about to start!” Minjin warned as she hurries to tear open the package Minho passed to her.

“Ten seconds!” Namjoon added, checking the time on his phone.

With speed you did not know you possessed, you shoved on the oven mitts and dived in to pull out the dip before making a sharp one eighty-degree turn and rushed for the final touchdown.

Ten feet…

Six feet…

Two and a Half…

Two…

One and three-quarters…

With an ear busting cheer from your teammates, you dove for the spot between Minjin and Namjoon backside first just in time to see the kick-off.

Minjin leans away from you with a small yelp. “Watch where you’re swinging that. I don’t want to end up like Joonie.”

“Joonie did that to himself,” you defended, setting the dip on the small section of empty space in the vast feast before you. Someone had managed to add small packaged pastries to the assortment without you realizing it. You were entirely grateful for it too. “Anyways, is it going to be me and Namjoon for the home team?”

“Hey!” Minjin protested, sitting up straight with a scowl. “Why do I have to play for the enemy?”

From behind her Minho watched his lover argue with a fond smile forming in the corner of his lips, as if he truly found even her disgust to be associated with his school team to be cute. It was not something you could quite wrap your head around.  

“Because you’re dating the enemy.” Your teammate remarked as he readied two shot glasses. “Sorry hyung.”

Being acknowledged snapped Minho out of whatever daze he had fallen into. His once love-sick smile was now replaced with a grin filled with mischief. “Where is your sense of loyalty to the love of your life, babe?”

She pursed her lips. “Fine. But only because our school teams sucks anyways.”

“Ha!” you exclaimed, moving to sit at the edge of your seat as your favorite defender sacked the opposing team. The impact was so forceful you couldn’t help but wince a bit in sympathy for the victim. Nonetheless, you didn’t let it deter you from thrusting the liquid punishment towards your roommate. “Karmas a bitch. Now drink up traitor.”

She accepted the shot glass with a scowl. “Competitions is ugly on you, you know.”

“That’s not very fair,” Minho defended, downing his shot in a quick tilt of his head. “I think it just brings out her inner colors.”

“More like her inner ugly.” Your roommate grumbled around the shot glass before downing it in much the same fashion as her teammate. With a small grimace she slammed the glass back down on the table. “Fill it up, slut. The next round will be for your losing ass.”

“Aren’t men supposed to be the overly competitive sex?” Namjoon inquired from beside you. His eyes drifted from between you and Minjin with half a smile starting to form on his perplexed face.

Minjin sneered. “That’s sexist.”

“Keep it up, Joonie.” Your eyes never left the screen as you spoke. “Keep goading her, we’ll have this game in the bag.”

That got her attention. “Hey, you still have to take a drink whether or not we spot it or not.”

You shook your head as you spoke. “If a tree farts and no one is around to hear it, does it leave a smell? No. And since no one smelt it, it’s like no one dealt it. Therefore, I don’t have to drink.”

The room fell into a silence as all eyes turned in your direction. Some, like Minjin, didn’t seem like she knew if she wanted to argue with your reasoning or give it to you for your creativity. Others, such as the male population, looked as if they had bitten into a lemon.

“That’s not how that saying goes,” Namjoon finally spoke up, looking you up and down with a slightly scrunched up nose.

“And I’m pretty sure what you’re talking about is cheating.” The older man added, a smile starting to tug at his lips despite himself.

“Honey, honey.” Minjin interjected, patting her boyfriend’s knee gently. “Give her that one, she earned it.”

Raising your bottle of beer in the air, you tilted it in her direction. “Damn straight I did.”

“Plus,” A small smirk formed on the other woman’s face. “By her own reasoning, we don’t have to take a shot for that penalty.”

“What?” Your head snapped in the direction of the screen just in time to see the referee calling the move. “Bullshit, take your drink you hoe!”

The bickering that followed would be one of many that would break out in the following hours. Sometime between the argument of what is considered a victory dance and the chip incident where Namjoon somehow managed to trip over the table at just the right angle to send the chip bowl flying back into the room it came from, the snacks that were once in plenty of supply had dried up to a few bits and pieces scattered between wrappers and used up napkins. By the time halftime came around, there was only breadcrumbs and what was left of the liquor standing proudly upon the ravaged table.

“Wow.” Minjin eyed the disaster that laid before her with wide eyes. “We’re pigs.”

“Excuse me?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at his roommate. “This was all you two. I barely got one chip in before they were all gone.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t of kicked the chips off to Neverland you would’ve gotten some.” She countered, tilting her head towards the kitchen. Off in the distance the once clean floor was now a graveyard for the forgotten sliced potatoes who were whisked away before they could’ve fulfilled their crunchy destiny. Now they lay crumbled and defeated on the tile flooring, abandoned by their owner but never forgotten. The reminder pulled a hearty sigh from you as you looked on at the tragic sight.

“Speaking of which…” Oppa spoke up, glancing in the same direction as you. “Are we really not going to go pick that up?”

“Leave it.” Gloom took root in your voice as you spoke. “They are a reminder of what was lost.”

“Hyung is right, we’re going to get ants.”

The doubt was clear in the look you shot him. “We’re on the second floor.”

He merely gave a shrug. “Bugs don’t discriminate.”

“I don’t do bugs.” With a small shiver, Minjin stood up. “You guys clean that up, I’m heading to the market to grab a few snacks for the rest of the game.”

Minho perked up at the mention of food. “Oh, get those cute sugar cookies while you’re out. You know, with the sprinkles.”

That got Namjoon’s attention. “Oh, and those gummies. The one’s shaped like the Minions, not those fake Ninja Turtle shits they sell.”

A smirk slowly formed as she leaned down to grab her purse. “I’m dating a child.”

“Hey, we’re manly.” The offense that took form in the older mans tone was matched by the slight puffing of his chest.

Your roommate nodded in agreement. “Our manliness is so great we’re not even threatened by your attempt to emasculate us.” Despite his noble words, you didn’t miss the way his muscles flexed against the fabric of his sleeves.

“Right. My mistake.” Her teeth flashed the group as her lips spread out into a brilliant smile. “I’ll be back in ten.”

“Don’t forget my cookies!” Minho called after her.

“And chips!” You added hastily after glancing at the graveyard once more.

With a roll of her eyes, she said her final goodbye before closing the door after her. Minho stared after her for a few moments, seeming to be counting down to something in his head. Soon after he sat up straighter, turning his full attention to the remaining of the group. “I need to talk to you guys.”

His statement caught you as you were scooping the remaining fudge that clung to the pastry wrapper with your finger. The delectable chocolate had barely passed your lips when he had turned in your direction. With the wide eyes of someone who had been caught in the act, you reply with an startled, “What?”

The older graduate paid you no mind, already used to your shameless behavior. “Our anniversary is coming up. Mine and MinMin’s.”

Joonie visibly cringed from the nickname. “We’re very much aware.”

“Yeah, well I want to make it special.” Minho continued on. “And as you know, your apartment is the first place we met…”

This time it was your turn to scrunch up your face. “Please, we are all very much aware of your rom-com worthy love story.”

Namjoon nodded vigorously. “Painfully so.”

Minho had the decency to smile sheepishly. “Well, I was thinking I could re-enact it here. You know, buy her favorite pizza, put on my old uniform, come and surprise her with dinner and a bunch of other cheesy memory lane stuff. But it would kind of be ruined if her two roommates were in the apartment to reminisce with us…”

You blinked a couple of times. “He’s trying to kick us out of our apartment.”

“Minjin would love that though.” To your horror, you noticed the smile that was forming on your friend’s face. “You know how into that cringy romantic shit she is.”

“But…” you stammered, buying yourself time to think up an excuse. “But where would I go?”

“You’d be more than welcome to stay at my place.” Minho offered helpfully, blinding you with his annoyingly hopeful smile.

It did nothing to stop the taste of bile that rose to your throat. “With Jinho? Yeah, that definitely isn’t going to happen.”

Namjoon shrugged. “I’m going to go stay with Hoseok, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“I can hear Yoongi oppa complaining now.” Just one look at the doe eyed man in front of you had a sigh being extracted from you. “Fine, I’ll brave Jihyun’s couch.”

Before you could comprehend what was happened, a pair of strong arms was encircling you in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

A chuckle escaped your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, well, you guys are too cute to stand in your way anyways.”

“Sickeningly so.” A smile broke on Namjoon’s lips at his words.

Minho’s grin lit up his face. “Really, thank you. Minjin will love it. I just know it.”

“Just don’t love it on any surface that is communal.” Namjoon’s nose crinkled as he spoke. Your head quickly nodded along with his statement. No one wanted to relive what happened last time the lovebirds had the apartment to themselves. Some thing could not be unseen.

He older man ducked his head with a sheepish grin. “Will do.”

“Well, we might as well get to cleaning up the kitchen,” you stated grimly. “Minjin will not let us live it down if she finds a bug in the apartment.”

“Nose goes!” Minho had his finger flying to the tip of his nose before the words even passed his lips. You were quick to follow fashion, staring wide eyed at the bewildered graduate beside you.

“How old are you two again?”

“Old enough to know that this,” Minho motioned with his free hand between yourself and Min-ho while his finger remained attached to his nose, “means that we don’t have to do shit.”

A victorious grin split your cheeks. “So get to work, you slow fucker.”

With a smug sense of pleasure, you watched your grumbling friend stand to his feet and make his way to clean up his disaster. Beside you, Minho gave a good-natured chuckle as he started to pick up some of the wrappers that had been carelessly thrown around the room. You bend over to help him out when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

Must be Jihyun, you thought as you pull out your phone. Your obnoxious friend had been upset all week about not being able to make the traditional game day drinking game today. You wouldn’t put it past her to bitch about it some more over texts. To your surprise though, it was not Jihyun who had messaged you.

Mickey: Come over [2:47p.m.]

Mickey: Plz? [2:47p.m.]

Mickey: I’m sick of studying [2:48p.m.]

Mickey: I have pizza? [2:49p.m.]

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards as your eyes scanned your screen. Within seconds, your fingers were flying across your keyboard.

You: Pineapple? [2:50p.m.]

Mickey: Duh. [2:51p.m.]

Mickey: U in? [2:51p.m.]

Your index finger tapped against the side of your phone as you glanced up at your surroundings. If you were being honest, the game thus far had left your head a little more tipsy than you would like to admit. It would probably be a bad idea to go anywhere at this point. Plus, you and Namjoon were sure to win this time. You couldn’t call it quits now. And anyways, the other boy really had some studying to get done if he hoped to pass his class.

You: Save me some, I’ll stop by tomorrow [2:55p.m.]

With your mind made up, you set your phone on the table to get back to cleaning up. Tomorrow you’d have to put up with his complaints but it was for his own good. To your surprise, your phone vibrated not long after.

Mickey: Fine, but only a slice of the cheese one [2:58p.m.]

Mickey: Late comers don’t deserve pineapple [2:59p.m.]

A head suddenly appeared over your shoulder. “What are you smiling at?” The sound of his voice startled you enough to look up from your phone. Quickly, you pressed the power button to shut down your screen, but it was too late; a smirk was already forming on the older man’s lips. “Mickey? Is that the guy Minmin was telling me about?”

Your shoulder lifted in a careless shrug as you pocketed your phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” The tone of his voice portrayed his true thoughts on the matter. “Is he who you’ve been sneaking out at night to go see the past few weeks?”

“I’m a grown ass women and this is my damn apartment, I do not have to sneak out of it.” You huff indignantly; making sure your voice was low enough so that it couldn’t be heard from the kitchen. “And anyways, why is your girlfriend gossiping about me?”

“She’s excited.” He stated simply. “She says it’s about time you got out of your dry spell.”

A red tinge settled on the apples of your cheeks. “I am not going through a dry spell!” You hissed desperately under your breath.

Minho raised his trash filled hands in surrender. “Hey, I don’t judge.”

“There’s nothing to judge!”

“What are we judging?” Namjoon questioned, walking back into the room. Traces of the chip disaster were evident on his socked feet. You jumped at the opportunity given to you.

“The fact that you’re trailing crumbs all over the floor with your dirty socks.” You jabbed a finger in the offending party’s direction, affectively drawing everyone’s attention towards them. “Minjin will throw a bitch fit if she comes back to see that.”

“At least I’ve been cleaning, what have you two been doing?” Even though his voice was laced with indignation, he toed at his socks to rid them of any evidence.

“Cleaning up after your ass, like usual.” You quickly interjected when you spotted Minho opening his mouth to reply. “You two boys are slobs, honestly.”

There it was, the perfect thing to distract both of your possible attackers. Both of their attentions were instantly focused on you in different stages of offense. Minho was the first to object.

“Did she just speak to me informally?”

“You and Minjin are the one’s who destroy the apartment!” Namjoon soon followed with.

“Excuse me?” At that instance, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed through the room. Standing in the doorway was Minjin, her arms being loaded with various bags of groceries. It was clear she was implementing her one trip only policy by how her arms were being weighed down with more bags than she could comfortably carry, but she seemed to have forgotten all about them as she set a deadly glare on your roommate. “You want to pass that by me again Namjoon, you clumsy shit?”

As expected, the apartment was soon filled with various forms of blame aversion and cases made in defense. It did not take long for your nightly where about and mysterious messenger to easily fall from everyone’s memory.

“Order up!”

The sharp ringing of the bell attempted to cut through the rambunctious chatter of the rush hour crowd. Despite its obnoxious pitch and quick, incessant rhythm, none of the buzzing customers seemed to take much notice to it; instead, they continued their conversations eagerly, paying no attention to the steaming barista behind the counter. The poor boy could not be older than sixteen, but the irritation that was coming off of him in waves said that if he was kept waiting much longer, he would lose it. Right when you were certain that his grip on the caffeinated drink would certainly crush the cup in his grasps, a customer lazily strolled up to the counter to claim the beverage from its tragic fate. With more force than was needed, the teenager shoved the drink into the college student’s hand, walking away with no more than a glare in the customer’s direction.

Part of you felt bad for the poor barista as you watched him prepare the next order over the view of your coffee cup. If you were being honest, the customers were grating on your own nerves with their excessive volume. There was absolutely no need to be talking that enthusiastically in such small quarters as the café. However, you found that the levels of your annoyance were steadily lowering with each sip of your drink that you took. So instead of dwelling on the repercussions of flinging the muffin you bought Jihyun at a neighboring group of girls’ (who obviously weren’t taught about inside voices), you took a deep breath and continued to watch the aggravated barista lose his temper over the espresso maker.  

The only thing that brought your attention away from the oncoming tantrum was the vibration of your phone. The suddenness of it had you jumping a bit in your seat, causing a bit of coffee to dribble down your chin. With a quick swipe of the back of your hand, you pulled out the offending party with your free hand to check the screen.

Mickey: remind me again [7:12p.m.]

Mickey: why am I here? [7:12p.m.]

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you read over the messages. Leave it to him to be so dramatic over something so routine.

You: I ask myself that question about you everyday, honestly [7:14p.m.]

You: I mean, do we really need another shameless flirt on this earth? [7:14p.m.]

You: seems a bit last season, don’t you think? [7:15p.m.]

You typed out your message single handedly, using your other one to bring your warm coffee to your lips. You didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Mickey: We all know what my purpose on this earth is, sweetcheeks {7:18p.m.]

Mickey: I am a gift to women everywhere. [7:19p.m.]

An involuntary snort came of you. You could just feel the smugness rolling off of him through the phone. He needed to be knocked down a few pegs. Squaring your shoulders a bit, you set your cup down on the table so that you could turn your complete attention to your phone.

You: More like punishment. [7:22 p.m.]

Mickey: You seem tense, baby girl [7:24 p.m.]

Mickey: Bet I could make you feel better with just one touch ;) [7:25 p.m.]

Heat rose to the apple of your cheeks despite yourself. You convinced yourself it was from the stuffiness of the room, not from your own imagination of course.

You: Case and point [7:29 p.m.]

You: You’re shameless [7:30 p.m.]

Mickey: It’s a gift really [7:36 p.m.]

“What are you smiling at?” Your co-worker sat across from you suddenly, eyeing you almost distastefully. “You look like you’re about to giggle and puke rainbows or something. It’s gross.”

It was only then that you noticed the way your lips split into an involuntary smile. You quickly wiped it from your face, replacing it with a scowl. “Shut up. You’re late.”

She sighed bristly at that, taking the extra cup of coffee and muffin from you. “Yeah, well, not all of us were able to get off early, Miss Over Achiever. God, I almost miss when you were in your slum so that we were failures together. Now you’re back to being ahead of schedule and responsible and shit.”

You couldn’t help the small tug of your lips. “Yeah well, you owe this over achiever ten bucks. The coffee and muffin aren’t free.”

In that moment, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand again.

Mickey: Come baaaack [7:47p.m.]

Mickey: I’m about to die from boredom in this class [7:47 p.m.]

You: Suck it up, frat boy [7:49 p.m.]

You: It’s called getting an education [7:50 p.m.]

“Whatever,” she grumbled around her muffin. “Anyways, who are you texting? Is it Jimin again?”

“Becoming possessive already?” you teased, smirking around your cup of coffee. “How un-Jihyun like.”

The woman across from you merely stuffs another large chunk of muffin into her mouth. “You two text constantly. And plot. I know he didn’t come up with the idea to send me those singing telegrams on his own, asshole.”

“That was actually his idea. The boy is committed.”

A rather un-ladylike like snort escaped her. “Jimin doesn’t have a committed bone in his body.”

From the corner of your eye you saw your phone light up with a notification. “What about that proposition he made you?”

Mickey: It’s called a snooze fest [8:04 p.m.]

Mickey: Anyways, what kind of lame activity are you up to? [8:05 p.m.]

Mickey: Wait, let me guess [8:06 p.m.]

Mickey: Watching descendants of the sun [8:07 p.m.]

Mickey: Again. [8:07]

“Fine, the only commitment he has is to his dick.” The harshness of her words has you pulling your gaze from your screen. “I mean, when was the last time an arrangement like that ever worked out, anyways? It’s stupid.”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” You gave a shrug at the doubtful look she shot you. “I mean, he’s attractive. From what you said he knows what he’s doing. What could it hurt?”

“Please.” The tone of her voice was if she was explaining the obvious. “Men are fragile little things, Y/N. They have too many grown up feelings for their small testosterone brains to take. Things never stay as simple as they say they will.”

The corner of your lips twitched as you averted your attention back to your screen. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that stereotype is applied.”

You: you’re offensive tone is ruining the taste of my muffin [8:12 p.m.]

“That’s because men tried to cover up for their neediness by putting it on us. It’s a big cover up, I tell you.” If it weren’t for the fact that you weren’t entirely convinced she wasn’t being serious, you would find her conspiracy theories somewhat comical. It was Jihyun, after all.

“I’m sure it is.” Setting your phone aside for the last time, you turn your full attention back to your coworker. “Anyways, I need a favor.”

Jihyun tilted her head to the side as she studied you. “Waive the ten bucks for this stuff and you got it.”

“What?” You blinked a couple of times. “Fuck that bitch, pay up.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“You don’t even know what it is!” Your voice started to rise as you spoke, but you paid it no mind. If everyone else can be noisy in this shack so could you.

She gave a short sigh. “Fine, what is it?”

“I need to borrow your couch this coming Saturday.” Sensing the argument rising in her, you added more hastily, “Minho is pulling some grand romantic gesture for their anniversary and is kicking me and Namjoon out.”

“Couples. I swear, they’re so entitled.” The last bit of muffin she was holding was quickly flung onto her napkin in disgust. “I would revolt. You pay rent, you have rights.”

“Jihyun.” The tone of your voice was fighting between amusement and exasperation. “Your bitch is showing.”

You watched as your friend proceeded to dump enough sugar to create a small tower into her drink, unbothered by your words. “Good. Let the bitch flag fly, she needed some air after being suffocated under all that sugarcoated pleasantry bullshits.”

“Just play nice, Minho is being a gentleman. It’s sweet and romantic.”

“Sweet my ass,” the woman across from you grumbles, reaching to a neighboring table beside you to grab the sugar packets as she had used up all of your own. The couple sitting there shot her judgmental glares, but if she noticed it she made no sign of it. “Anyways, you can’t spend the night. My brothers coming to town and is occupying the couch this weekend.”

An obnoxious groan was born in your throat, drawing a few startled glances your way. “Where the fuck am I supposed to go now?”

“I’m telling you, you have rights.” Her eyes glanced up at you from her coffee cup. The White Mountain had nearly doubled in size, but she showed no sign of stopping. “Fuck the system, fight the couples.”

“I prefer fuck the couples, fight the system,” a deeper voice interjected. The screeching of chair legs against the laminate floor soon followed as your uninvited guest made himself at home at the table, his cheeky smile being full of insinuations. “It opens a lot more interesting doors that way.”

Your coworker’s faced screwed up in disgust. “Is everyone in your fraternity as perverse as you and the duo?”

“No… but they’re not nearly as much fun either.” Jungkook replied with his signature smirk before turning to face you. “And you, do you not know how to answer your phone?”

“I didn’t know you texted.” As you spoke, you reached back over for your phone, thumbing over the main key to bring the phone to life. Your eyes widened a bit when you spotted how many missed texts you had. Quickly, you tried to shut off your screen again but it was too late.

“Mickey?” Jungkook reached out and plucked your phone out of your hands indignantly. “Who the fuck is Mickey? And why is your phone password protected?”

“It’s Jimin.”  Jihyun piped up, stirring the white grains into her coffee. “I don’t know why she calls him Mickey though.”

“Is that a codename? Jimin has a codename and I don’t?” The look of betrayal that washed over Jungkook’s face was more than unjustified in your opinion.

“It is none of your business who it is.” Huffing, you reached out and snatched your phone out of the younger boy’s grasps. “And my phone is password protected because of nosy people like you trying to get on and snoop.”

“Whatever.” With a small shrug, he tore off a piece of your muffin. He eyed the crowded café as he pushed the moist pastry past his lips. His eyes zeroed in on the barista behind the counter. “It’s busy at this time. Poor sap.”

“You could always offer to help him,” you offer, unbothered by the theft as you take a sip of your drink. “You know, be a good coworker and all that stuff.”

“Fuck that shit.” Jihyun eyes the barista. Despite her harsh words, there were traces of sympathy in her voice. “Jungkook’s off. Let the kid sweat.”

The younger man leaned back in his chair with a broad grin. “Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

Shaking your head, you cracked a smile at them around the rim of your cup. “You two are despicable.”

“Thank you.” They both spoke in unison, drawing a chuckle from you.

“Anyways, I just stopped by for some muffin.” He leaned over to grab another rather sizable piece of your muffin as he got to his feet. When he spoke, it was around a mouthful of bread. “I have another class I need to get to.”

“You better hurry,” you comment, glancing at the time on your phone. “You have three minutes before your class starts.”

“Shit.” With quick drink from your cup, he dashed out of the café, calling back a greeting of some kind as he clumsily ran into a group of unsuspecting customers on his way out. The absurdness of it drew a chuckle from your lips as you brought your cup up for another drink.

“You know…” Jihyun began, watching after his retreating form through glass window. “He’s not at all what I expected.”

A more natural smile tugged at your lips. “Believe me, I know.”

Once again you heard more than felt your phone buzz against the wooden table. Glancing down at it, you noticed you had quite a bit of missed messages. Scanning over them, you zeroed in on the newest one.

Mickey: Stop by my place later? [8:29p.m.]

Under the watchful eye of your friend, you didn’t care let your lips stretch anymore than they were already. However, you could not help the burst of joy you felt as you quickly typed out your response.

You: Always do. [8:30p.m.]

A/N: I am so so sorry that this took so long! Uni has been crazy. Anyways, I apologize if I completely butchered the sports terminologies in the beginning of the chapter. I know close to nothing about sports and I don’t think the hours of research I tried to do on football really fixed that... Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you though =)

[queen-of-deans-booty]

All Hell Breaks Loose Part One- Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,932

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, minor character death, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. If you’re a junkie for this sort of thing, then a tag list is the right thing for you! If you want to be a Queen, I’ll add you to that list too! Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

AHHHH This season is almost done!!!!! Just ONE more episode left! If you’ve been catching along with this series, this and the next episodes is what I wan to hear your thoughts on!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

You jolted up with a gasped, seeing how it was morning already. You were glad no one killed or tried to kill you in your sleep. You woke up to Jake screaming at you and Sam to wake up. You looked over at Sam to see him jolt awake from the nightmare he probably had.

“Sam! Y/N! Wake up! Ava is missing!” Jake said, his eyes wide. That got you and Sam right up and the three of you rushed outside to go find her.

“Y/N will come with me and Jake, just try and find her.” Sam ordered, splitting from Jake before he had a chance to say anything else. You followed Sam, looking in the other houses and buildings that littered the town.

“She isn’t here.” You said, giving up. There were so many buildings here, you doubted she went this far out.

“Okay, let’s go back.” Sam said, walking back to the barn where he agreed to meet Jake at. As you got closer, you head an ear-splitting scream that came from Ava. It seemed as if she was back at the barn already.

You and Sam rushed to the barn, busting in. You gasped in horror and grabbed at Sam’s arm from what you saw. Ava, crying her eyes out at the fact that Andy was now lying in a pool of his own blood, dead.

“Oh! Sam! I just found him like this!” Ava screamed dramatically, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“What the hell happened?” He demanded.

“I don’t know!” Her voice squeaked up a bit.

“Cut the bullshit act, Ava.” You said with a glare. She glared at you, taking a step towards you.

“Excuse me? Our friend is dead!”

“Friend? Sam, come on. She is being such a drama queen right now. I am an expert on fake crying and that, right there, was an example of this. She did this to Andy! She killed him!” You said, accusing her.

“How dare you think I did this!” Ava yelled at you.

“Come on, Y/N, I don’t think we should blame her.” Sam started to say.

“Sam, you know how good I am when it comes to lying. I know she is lying,” You said, looking at the window sill behind Sam and nodding. You pointed to it and made Sam look. “How else do you explain the break in the salt? Andy wouldn’t do it, not when he was always scared of what was happening.”

“You believe her, Sam?” Ava asked, scoffing.

“You know, she’s right. You’ve been here for five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for. Plus, that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily.” Sam said, putting you behind him. Ava went from this scared, overdramatic girl to one who was laughing, wiping the tears from her face.

“I had you two going, though, didn’t I? Yeah, I’ve been here a long time. However, I was never alone. People just kept showing up. Children, like us who came in batches of three or four at a time.” She said with a smile.

“You killed them? All of them?” Sam asked, horrified.

“I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ.” Ava said, proudly.

“Oh, my God.” You muttered. If only looks could kill…

“I don’t think God had much to do with this, Y/N.”

“How could you?” Sam asked, shocked still.

“I had no choice. It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting who we are, Sam. If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain. I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?”

“Control demons.” You said.

“Ah, you’re quick which is good. You aren’t going to make it out of here alive, Y/N. It’s either going to be me, Jake or Sam who will kill you and I can guarantee that.” She raised her hand and you looked behind you to see the cloud of black smoke come through the window again.

Before anything could happen, Jake came up behind Ava and grabbed her head, snapping her neck easily, killing her. The demonic smoke left back out the window, glad not to be controlled anymore. You gasped and watched as he dropped her body like it was nothing.

He looked up and stared at you, the evil glint you saw when you first met him was now back in his eyes.

“Sam, come on.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the barn. Jake chuckled and he followed you two, murder in his eyes.

“Jake, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. The demon is gone now. I think we can leave.” Sam said, seeing the look in his eyes. He had eyes for you but he wanted to murder you since it was what he was told to do.

“No, only one of us is making it out of here alive and it’s going to be me. But first, she needs to die. I had a vision of the Yellow-eyed Demon. He told me what needs to be done and I have to follow his orders or I will be the one to die and that isn’t happening.”

“No, Jake, you can’t listen to him. He lies, Y/N isn’t going to die. Neither of us will. We are going to get out here. We can kill that bastard together.” Sam tried to reason with him.

“How do I know you won’t turn on me?” He asked, unsure. You thought it would be best if you kept quiet, afraid of triggering something in him. He was already much stronger than you so it wouldn’t be a fair fight.

“We won’t, Jake.” You said very gently.

“I don’t know that.”

“Okay, look,” Sam said, taking the knife you found earlier and showed Jake, placing it on the ground to show some peace between the three of you. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t play into his games. You’ll end up dead.”

After a moment or two, Jake nodded and placed his weapon on the ground next to Sam’s. You had a feeling this wasn’t over yet and that feeling proved to be true when Jake punched Sam. Jake, already being super duper strong, sent Sam flying through the air, crashing on the ground.

“Sam!” You yelled, glaring at Jake who was walking to you.

“You’re turn sweetheart. I’ll make it quick because you seem like a nice girl but this has to be done.” He said, getting closer to you. Panic surged through your veins and you didn’t know what to do. The weapons were behind Jake and Sam wasn’t much help right now. He will kill you if he got his hands on you.

You felt yourself panicking even more when he got closer and you shot your hands out to protect yourself. A burst of magic left your hands, hitting Jake right in the stomach, sending him toppling over. You gasped, thinking how you thought only anger or Dean being hurt would make this magic come out. But you guess panic will do the same thing.

Good to know.

You rushed to Sam, sliding on the ground when you got close enough to him. He groaned and looked at you, sitting up.

“Sam, we have to go.” You looked up to see and even more pissed off Jake come storming to you. He realized that he needed to get rid of Sam before he can get to you. You barely got Sam up on his feet when you felt the wind being knocked out of you.

Jake had used half of his strength to push you away from Sam, throwing in a few punches. Sam had enough of this and he punched back, fighting with Jake. You tried to catch your breath and you looked up to see Jake and Sam fighting, Jake winning.

You groaned and forced yourself to get on your feet, looking around until you spotted the weapons on the ground. You looked back at Jake and Sam, knowing Sam could hold his own for a while. You slowly moved to the weapons, keeping an eye on Jake who seemed to be too busy with Sam to even notice you.

You grabbed the iron rod that Jake carried instead of the knife. You didn’t want to kill him, no, just knock him out until you figured out what to do with him. You finally got enough air in your lungs to start running and when Sam looked like he had enough, you raised the rod, striking Jake on the head very hard.

You made sure not to kill him but he did go down, unconscious. You dropped the rod and then that’s when you heard it.

“Y/N! Sam!” You looked up and smiled when you saw Dean and your dad, with flashlights.

“Dean!” You were so glad he was okay. You grabbed Sam’s arm and put it over your shoulder to help him walk since he was weak from the beating he took.

“Dean! Bobby!” Sam said with a weak smile, slowly but surely walking closer to them.

“Sam! Y/N! Look out!” You only had enough time to turn your head to see Jake coming at you with the knife. Your eyes widened and you shoved Sam out of the way so he wouldn’t get hurt. You were going to use your magic but it was too late.

You froze when the blade of the knife sliced through your body, coming out the other end. You gasped and looked down, seeing the bloody tip of the blade that was right through your chest. Jake twisted the knife and you gurgled up blood as he pulled you closer.

“I told you, you weren’t leaving here alive.” He said before taking the blade out and running away.

“No!!!” Dean yelled, making a run for you as you fell to the ground and on your knees. You knew what was going to happen next but you weren’t sure if Dean or even Sam was ready for that. Dean slid to the ground in front of you, seeing how pale you looked.

He grabbed at your shirt, trying to get you to look at him but you could feel your life slipping away. Sam rushed and got up, not caring about himself as he checked your wound.

“Dean, it’s bad.” Sam said. Dean pressed his hand over your wound but the blood kept pouring out. You leaned forward in Dean’s arms, too weak to hold yourself up.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me, okay? It’s not that bad. Don’t listen to Sam. Y/N! Y/N, please look at me,” Dean said with tears in his eyes., You so badly wanted to look at him but you didn’t; couldn’t. “Don’t worry, we’re going to patch you right up. You’re going to be as good as new.” Dean touched your face but you were just on the brink of death. You watched as Bobby ran after Jake, leaving you alone with Sam and Dean.

“Dad…” You said as you took your last breath. Your body slumped forward in Dean’s arms as your eyes slid close, lying in Dean’s arms.

“No! No, no, no, no, no, Oh, God, Sammy! Sam! Do something! No!!!” Dean yelled, letting the tears fall freely. There was nothing Sam or even Dean could do now.

You were dead.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith​ @mogaruke​ @whit85-blog​ @inlovewithbja​ @spn67-sister​ @kdfrqqg​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @roxyspearing​ @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose​ @cobrakai1967​ @essie1876​ @wishedworld​ @crispychrissy​ @laqueus-ludovicus​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel​ @potterhead1265​ @starswirlblitz​  @untitled39887​ @ta-n-ja​ @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi​ @tahbehonest​ @stay-in--place​ @dreaminofdean @posiemax​ @donnaintx​ @mikey1822​ @alexandriajanae4​  @li-ssu​ @just-another-winchester​ @obsessivecompulsivespn​ @emoryhemsworth​ @newtospnfandom​ @mizzezm​  @goldenolaf25​ @jessikared97​ @wh1sp3r1ng-impala​ @charliebradbury1104​    @queen-of-moons-peace-out-bitches @becs-bunker​ @atc74​ @lemonchapstick​

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278​ @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​ @winchesterandpie​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @carribear31​ @tacklesackles​ @oreosatmidnight​ @not-naturalfangirl​ @missselinakitty​ @iam-a-cutiepie​  @kristendansmith​ @milo-winchester-4ever​ @jensenackesl​ @codyshany316​ @pheonyxstorm​ @helllonearth​ @juniorhuntersam​ @pouterpufftrain​ @ruprecht0420​ @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012​ @aubreystilinski​

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth​ @amyisabellal​ @deanwnchstr​ @caseykitten6​ @quixoticcat​ @supernaturalblogging​ @notmoose45​ @crowleysminion​ @mina22​ @tahbehonest​ @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels​ @spnhybrid @oreosatmidnight​ @valerieshubin​ @seninjakitey​ @flyonlittlewinchester​ @aubreystilinski​ @rocketqueeens​  @emilygracespellins​ @earthtokace​