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As it is officially 12:00AM...
IT BE MY BIRTHDAY 🎈🎂🥳🥂🎉
All throughout the last six months or so everytime i saw an awesome post i scheduled it to reblog for that time on my birthday....
So enjoy the brain chaos!!! 💕
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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 year
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Breath of the Sky Ch 10 (SS meets BotW)
UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE :D :D :D
Okay okay, I'm not... entirely happy with this chapter but I'm not unhappy with it, either. It's just kind of awkwardly paced, I feel like, but if I kept going it would take a century to get this sucker out and probably even longer to read it. So here we are.
Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing husband/chosen hero is.
(AO3 link)
Chapter 10: A King's Request
Something made a strange noise, pulling her from the inky darkness she'd slipped into. Light. There was light. Taking a slow, deep breath, Zelda furrowed her brow a little as the light pierced through her eyelids, casting an amber glow in front of her eyes.
Amber.
Her eyes opened in an instant. But she wasn’t drained and collapsing into Link’s arms in the Temple of Hylia. She was…
Ah. That’s right.
Zelda shifted, feeling the cotton sheet scratch her bare skin. She was a little chilly, but not uncomfortable, though she did shuffle under the heavy blankets a bit more, pushing some disheveled hair out of her face. She stretched briefly, feeling her blood flow through her body, and glanced to the other side of the bed. Link was snuggled under the blanket all the way to his nose, his fluffy dirty blonde hair barely visible. Zelda smiled, her heart full.
Last night had been magical.
Slowly, she made her way over to her husband, holding him close against her for some extra warmth. Link mumbled in his sleep, turning towards her slightly. She lightly rubbed her nose against his, giggling as he scrunched his face and sniffled in response.
And then she nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a knock at the door.
Heart racing, Zelda bolted up, looked down at her less than fit-for-company appearance, and then snatched the blanket and shoved it up to her chin. Link shivered a little, rolling away from her and taking the blanket with him.
“Link!” Zelda hissed in protest as her fluffy shield was stripped away.
There was another knock at the door. “Your Grace, Hero of—”
“J-just a minute!” Zelda said, trying to sound commanding and only succeeding in sounding like a teenager caught in the midst of breaking some kind of rule.
Looking around frantically, Zelda saw a sash in one corner of the room, her dress in another, Link’s trousers lazily hanging over the chair, and accessories scattered in multiple nooks and crannies. It was a veritable puzzle that she had to piece together. She scrambled out of the bed, face flushing as she immediately went to the window to slam the curtains closed (what time was it? She felt like she'd only just fallen asleep), and then began to gather different articles of clothing.
Link continued to snore in bed. Zelda glanced at him at one point, exasperated. How could he sleep through this?!
Zelda felt something sharp and prickly dig into her heel and she hissed, hopping on one foot for a few seconds, leading to her balance being thrown off as she unceremoniously face planted onto the floor.
Snoring continued to float lazily from the bed.
“Your Grace, Great Hero, is everything all right?” the voice called from the door. It was unfamiliar, whoever it was, and that made Zelda all the more agitated.
Groaning, she pulled herself up from the floor, now shivering. “Yep! Fine! Just another minute please!”
Her foot throbbing in pain, Zelda glared down to see that the offending object that had caused the injury was her headdress from last night. Grumbling, she grabbed the cursed item and threw it onto the chair where it was less likely to cause damage. From her vantage point, though, she could see her dress, all crumpled up by the bed where Link was wrapped up at least three times over in two different blankets, his hair sticking out like he was some freshly harvested vegetable.
Zelda hastily threw the white garment over her head, growling as it fought against her desire to wear it, pulling in odd places with different layers sticking up. This fit just fine yesterday, why was this being such a pain?!
After finally managing to at least get the garment to flow freely from her head to her toes, she padded over to the door, trying to take a calming breath and slow her frantic heart rate. She smoothed her hands over her hair—which she immediately regretted because she could feel how tangled it must have looked—and cracked the door open.
And promptly felt her heart get stolen from her chest.
There was a woman in front of her, roughly around her age, with copious amounts of thick white hair tied in a half up, half down style. Her red eyes were wide, somewhat nervous but holding a fierce determination to them, and her face was stony.
But her forehead… it bore a symbol that Zelda had only seen on one other person.
Impa.
“Who are you?” Zelda asked quietly as she slowly straightened her posture, the door opening wider of its own accord.
The woman in front of her genuflected. “Your Grace, I am Impa of the Sheikah. I come to—”
The rest of her message was lost to Zelda. Impa?! How could this be Impa?! This made no sense!
Wait. Wait. The princess… her name is Zelda. The Hero’s name is Link. This woman must be a descendant or at least of the same people as Impa, then. The name is an honoring, just as the others are.
Zelda took a steadying breath as logic helped calm her whirling thoughts. She knew she had to be right. After all, this woman bore little to no resemblance to the Impa she knew apart from her eyes and the symbol.
The current dilemma, then, was that she was genuflecting, clearly expecting a reply, and Zelda had no idea what she had said beyond her name.
Zelda felt her dress push into her neck uncomfortably, and she pulled the collar down her chest a bit, swallowing. “I’m sorry, Impa, I… I didn’t… it’s nice to meet you, but what is it that you want?”
Impa slowly glanced up at the disheveled teenager and bit her lip, her cheeks blushing slightly. She quickly looked down again, as if ashamed or timid, like she bore some secret that she didn’t want revealed. Zelda grew confused, felt her dress ride up at her neck again, and yanked it irritably.
“Your Grace, I come bearing a message – a request for an audience from the king.”
The king? What could the king want at this hour of the morning? Zelda felt pretty tired, and it was still early light out; surely this could wait?
She supposed she didn’t have much right to argue, though. The king had been nothing but accommodating, and he’d thrown the most extravagant feast in her honor that she’d ever seen, past or present. Zelda sighed, running a hand down her face. Suddenly she felt both obligated and frustrated. How much longer should this farce even go on? She’d come here to find Link. That issue had been more than resolved.
But everything that she’d learned last night…
“Very well,” she said. “I just… does he want me to come right now?”
Impa glanced up again. Zelda finally realized she would remain genuflecting unless told otherwise.
Interrupting whatever the woman was about to say, Zelda hastily waved her hand upward. “Please, get up.”
Impa obeyed, straightening and standing at eye level. It made Zelda almost take a step away. The woman’s gaze was strong, though not as stern as the Impa she’d known. But the red eyes were unique, something that undeniably reminded her of the servant and friend who had guided and protected her for millennia.
“Your Grace, I believe given the situation, it is best to take your time and prepare for the audience.”
“What situation?” Zelda questioned, growing more anxious.
Impa cleared her throat uncomfortably and folded her hands behind her back, tipping her head towards Zelda.
The confusion returned, quelling her worries. “What is it?”
“Your Grace… um, you might want to check your dress.”
“My—“ another firm tug on her collar “My dress is beautiful, I don’t know who made it, but—”
“Your Grace. Check your dress.”
Zelda blinked, bewildered. Looking down, she immediately understood.
She was wearing her dress backwards.
Her cheeks burned, and she knew they likely matched the same shade of crimson as the woman’s eyes. “Ah. Uh, right. Right. I’ll just… um, please tell the king I’ll see him after breakfast and… yes. I’ll see him later.”
Impa nodded mutely, her eyes downcast as she tried to help Zelda save face.
Link snored loudly all of a sudden behind her.
“Thanks!” Zelda yelped, slamming the door in Impa’s face.
Groaning, she turned around and leaned against the door, sliding to the floor.
Well that was a great first impression.
XXX
The morning air was sharp in his lungs as he inhaled with a hiss, dodging a blow by a hair’s breadth. The creamy white trident gleamed in the sunlight, its fiery rose highlights catching his eyes before he pushed the weapon away with his shield.
“Oh! Link, are you alright? I almost hit you!” Mipha said, withdrawing a step or two.
Link hated to admit it, but Mipha was right – she had almost landed a blow that he could usually dodge easily. He wasn’t sure if she had improved her technique so substantially in her absence or if he was that distracted.
Mipha had certainly grown in her fighting prowess, but Link would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little out of sorts.
After last night’s fiasco, he’d spent the rest of the party meandering with the champions. Mipha had kept him fairly distracted and entertained, and he’d appreciated the gesture. It had mostly worked, too, but then he’d gone to bed and the anxieties he’d started to feel came up and clutched him by the throat.
Least to say, he hadn’t slept well.
Link breathed out as evenly as possible. He’d found Mipha first thing in the morning for sparring – he needed to get the energy out, he needed to feel like he could handle this blade once more.
It seemed this wasn’t helping much.
“I’m okay,” he said with a small attempt at a reassuring smile. “Let’s go again.”
But Mipha was distracted now, her gaze somewhere over Link’s shoulder. Confused and a little concerned, he turned to see what she was watching.
Several feet away in an adjacent part of the garden stood in the Hero of Myth.
Link immediately felt his mouth go dry and his body freeze. The Hero hadn’t noticed them yet, staring off somewhere, standing in profile to them. He was wearing the white undershirt and trousers from his outfit last night, substantially more dressed down in its untucked manner. His hands traced along some bushes absentmindedly, gaze distant, face cool and collected. It reminded Link eerily of himself, and he didn’t know what to make of that.
Mipha nudged him from behind. “Link, you should go talk to him. Maybe you two can spar together? Imagine what you could learn from him!”
Link felt his world practically flip upside down. He couldn’t say no; he was too choked up to say anything. He prayed Mipha would notice that he wasn’t in the mood to speak.
Mipha at least picked up on something. His dear friend turned to face him fully, her hand resting on his shoulder, the one warmth in his entire frigid body. He felt a cold sweat start to materialize on his brow, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt like he wanted to burst out of his skin and was going to throw up.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly so as not to alert the Hero.
“How did you get this blade?”
The question had been nearly hissed, almost accusatory. Link had been agonizing over it all night. Had the Hero not believed the tale told by the bard? Had he doubted that Link was actually the bearer of the Spirit of the Hero? How could he tell Mipha that the person he was supposed to live up to thought he was a failure already?
He felt a sharp, agonizing sympathy for Zelda all of a sudden.
There was a sound in the garden up ahead, and Mipha and Link both returned their attention to the Hero.
He’d noticed them.
Link’s eyes locked with his, and his chest tightened so much he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do.
The Hero of Myth watched them carefully, eyes boring into Link’s soul. His face looked pale in the morning light, and then—
And then he coughed harshly, bending over and rushing somewhere out of sight. Link could still hear him, and Mipha, the healer that she was, immediately ran to his aid.
Was… was he getting ill? It sounded like it, and it made Link’s own stomach churn uncomfortably.
Uncertainty held him back, but a natural empathy urged him forward. Link walked stiffly to catch up with Mipha, who had already run to the Hero’s side, just out of sight around a bend. When the two came back into view, the Hero was on his knees dry heaving into a bush with Mipha kneeling beside him, hand on his back.
“I’m going to get you some water,” Mipha said, rising. She looked pleadingly at Link. “Please keep an eye on him.”
A pang of irritation and horror combined into a strange mixture of a dizzying headache that made him snap to attention and want to scream all at once. Instead, he jerked his head forward in a stiff nod. Mipha watched him a moment longer, the concern in her eyes familiar, but it did little to soothe his anxieties when she’d practically thrown him at the one person he wanted so desperately to avoid.
He supposed there was little point in avoiding him now. His father would tell him to face his fears, anyway.
Link swallowed bile and awkwardly stepped forward, unsure what exactly he should do. Considering the cold reception he’d gotten last night, he was certain the Hero of Myth wanted nothing to do with him. He tried not to think about that.
“S-sorry…”
The weak, hoarse word was barely audible over the Hero’s pants for air, but it cut through the tension in an instant. Link shifted weight between his feet, wondering what he should say or do.
He really couldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t dare. Not after last night.
But Hero or not, this person was clearly feeling horrible. Link… wished he was better equipped for this, but…
The Hero glanced over at him a moment, pale and sweaty and suddenly looking so small. His eyes shifted from Link’s face to the sword on his back, and then he squeezed them shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Goddess above…”
Link stared, completely lost. Was the Hero disgusted at the mere sight of him?
Could this morning get any worse?
“Maybe you’ll have better luck than me,” the Hero muttered, his tone deep and dark and biting. Link flinched at the remark, and the one part of his brain that wasn’t just screaming really registered the words.
The response scraped out of him before he could stop it. “What?”
Oh goddess. Oh goddess. What did I just do, shut up shut up SHUT UP—
The Hero rose, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and facing him. He looked… incredibly tired. Placing a hand on Link’s shoulder, he squeezed it for a moment, some strange expression of empathy and worry and pity and guilt at war on his face, eyes constantly flicking from Link to the Master Sword, and then the Hero stepped away, letting his hand fall.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, walking away, leaving Link reeling in the garden alone.
What... what?
Link stood there for one, two, five minutes. And then he heard Mipha approaching.
Overwhelmed and confused, he ran back into the castle before anyone could find him. He...
He needed to talk to Zelda.
XXX
Zelda had come back to an empty bedroom after washing up, eating something, and putting on her knight attire. Though it worried her that Link was already up and about without her even knowing where he’d gone, she had still promised to meet up with the king to discuss… whatever it was he needed.
This was her last day of politely going along with this charade, however. Link was better. There was literally no reason for them to stay here anymore. They… they needed to go home.
Her mind whispered words that had been spoken last night. Legends of a calamity coming over and over again. She shook her head violently.
Maybe Link had been right. Maybe it was a different problem and they attributed it to Demise.
But it wasn’t just that, was it?
The king. The princess. They’re our family. We built this place.
She wanted to stay and learn more. She really did. But they’d just disappeared in the midst of a destructive accident back home. People had to be worrying by now.
Sighing, she clenched her fists and determinedly left the room, allowing the servant Impa to guide her to the main area where the king would be waiting for her. Following a Sheikah named Impa to her destination was so bizarrely familiar and out of place all at the same time that her world was spinning.
How could things be so different and so similar all at the same time? How could things be so astounding and amazing and magical and horrifying all at once? How could this place elate her and terrify her? It was like discovering the Surface all over again. At least here she had Link… but she desperately missed Impa now.
Zelda entered the same room as last night’s festivities, the one where she’d originally met the king. He stood on the ground level awaiting her, his face serious.
Zelda watched him warily. This… didn’t look good.
“Your Grace,” he acknowledged with a deep bow as the doors closed behind her, leaving them alone. “I hope you enjoyed all Hyrule had to offer you last night.”
Zelda lingered a little too long on what had transpired last night, and a blush colored her cheeks. She cleared her throat, shaking the thoughts and feelings away. “It… it was amazing. I appreciate the effort of showing us what Hyrule grows into.”
And she truly did appreciate it. Truly. But… she had a feeling that wasn’t what this meeting was about.
“Your Grace,” the king started slowly. “I… understand that traditions vary, that legends change depending on who speaks them. We did the best we could to maintain our history over the years, but I… cannot help but think that the story we gave you last night was not quite correct.”
Zelda raised her eyebrows in surprise. Had... someone actually figured out that she truly had no idea what the hell was going on? Had the king realized that, despite her past, she was still just a knight from Skyloft? Could she finally put her past behind her?
“I… do not understand the nature of your war against the Calamity,” the king explained. “Only that you and your Hero won it. However… the words spoken of its impending return are true. A prophecy was made many years ago, while my daughter was still a child. The Calamity will come.”
There was such a finality to those words. It wasn’t a matter of if the demon king would return, but when. Zelda felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as the cold, hard realization slammed into her.
Demise was still alive.
Golden Three. How was he still alive?! How was that possible?!
Was… was the king about to ask what she thought he was about to ask?
“Hyrule needs your help, Your Grace,” King Rhoam said finally. “…Zelda needs your help.”
Her mind immediately snapped back to the prayer last night.
“Goddess Hylia, I pray you give me the strength to protect my people.”
Oh. Oh, no. What… what were they expecting of her?
“My daughter is destined to seal away the Calamity, as you once did,” the king continued, unaware of Zelda’s internal crisis. “But she… she has been… having difficulty accessing her powers. She is the key to everything, and if she fails, Hyrule will fall. I… I beg of Your Grace. Please. Help my daughter fulfill her destiny. Help her defeat the Calamity as you once did.”
What?
She… he… he wanted her to be the princess’ guide? But—but she—this was—
What was she supposed to do? Was there a seal keeping Demise at bay? Where was the Triforce?
How had he survived?!
She had no plan here, she had no knowledge, nothing. Despite the confusion, despite the fear and the wonder and the chaos of her adventure, her memories had helped her at least know what she’d needed to do. She’d had a plan in place.
She knew nothing here.
“Where is he?” she asked. “And where’s the Triforce?”
The king’s expression turned to surprise and confusion. “Your Grace?”
“Where is he sealed?” Zelda asked slowly, hating everything about this. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d thought the war was over.
She heard Link’s screams in her mind. She felt her soul being ripped out of her body.
Shaking her head subtly, she pressed on, trying to keep her voice even. “Is the seal weakening? What about the Triforce?”
Was this the true reason Link had been thrown into the future? Was this some other plan Hylia—she had put together and she just hadn’t unlocked the memory yet? She… she’d sworn it was over!
“We don’t know where he is,” the king answered, shaking his head. “And the Triforce… the Triforce is an item of myth. I understand it must have been present during your time as the legends state, but… we no longer know of its location, if it even still exists.”
Zelda felt her blood freeze. She had sacrificed everything to protect the Triforce and it… was gone?!
“The ancient Hero of ten thousand years past was able to defeat the Calamity with the assistance of the divine beasts and the princess’ divine power,” King Rhoam spoke. “The Triforce was not used then, either.”
“No!” Zelda suddenly snapped, losing her mind and her composure. “Don’t you understand?! It’s not about sealing, it’s about killing – you can’t kill him without the Triforce!”
Her words echoed in the room, screaming in her mind. Brokenly, she said, “How can it be gone?”
This… this was a nightmare.
So this was what it all amounted to? Everything she and Link had fought for had been lost?
No, she argued back defiantly, closing her eyes and shielding her face with her hands. No. It isn’t all lost. Just look at everything around you! Look at the kingdom they made, despite all the odds!
But…
Impa. The countless beings in her memories. The humans who hadn’t been able to leave the Surface. They’d all died for nothing.
Zelda fell to her knees.
So this was why those legends existed. This was why Demise came back again and again and again.
But how had he survived the first time?! What could she do to stop him?!
Why was this happening?!
“I… I didn’t think it was possible to kill such a beast.”
The king’s voice was so quiet, so unsure, so frightened. Images of people hiding behind her and seeking her aid and protection seared into her mind, and a wave of protective ferocity drove her to lower her hands and open her eyes.
“Your Grace, I…” the king stammered uncertainly, looking downcast. “I have failed you. I do not know anything of the Triforce. But I… I beg of you, please… let me take the fall, but save my people. Help my daughter.”
Zelda let out a shuddering breath, and slowly rose. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to fix this.
But she wasn’t going to just leave them like this.
“I’ll help,” she said quietly. “But I need you to do something for me.”
The king’s sad eyes brightened, filled with hope and eagerness. “What does Your Grace need?”
“Send knights to the place where I appeared. A lot of them,” Zelda instructed. “And guard that area so no one can access it.”
She wasn’t making the same mistake as last time, after all. Nobody was going through the Gate of Time.
Golden Three, was… was that why? Was that the reason Demise was still here, countless millennia later?
Zelda’s head was spinning. She couldn’t wrap her mind around this anymore.
“Of course,” the king acknowledged with a nod of his head. “I’ll send my finest soldiers, as will the other leaders. You will have an army of Hylians, Zora, Gerudo, Rito, and Gorons protecting it.”
Gorons? At least she knew what Gorons were.
She supposed she’d be sticking around long enough to figure out the rest of them.
How in the world was she going to explain this to Link?
Oh, Link. She knew that between the two of them he had probably been far more eager to go home. Not to mention…
The only way to defeat Demise was with his help.
But… Zelda wasn’t quite sure how this was going to work. Her entire plan had relied on the Triforce. Link had been chosen because of his unbreakable spirit – the criteria was literally that the power and allure of the Triforce wouldn’t corrupt him. Zelda had held Demise at bay, the Master Sword had guided Link, and…
The Master Sword. That knight.
This was… a mess.
“Thank you,” Zelda muttered, her mind already a million miles away from the room, spinning and confused and so utterly lost. She had no idea how she was supposed to fix this.
I guess I can start by talking to the princess.
XXX
Link was hopelessly lost.
When he’d first awoken to an empty room, he’d wandered outside. The sight of tiny birds was enticing, and it would provide a good distraction. As amazing as last night had been, it was over, and the heavy thoughts weighing on his mind were trying to return.
So naturally he’d had to run into that knight. The new Chosen Hero. The person whose life he’d probably destroyed from his own ineptitude. That had been an entire fiasco, and he was just trying to find his way back to the little house given to him and Zelda inside this large structure. He’d thought it would be easy to find his way back – this place couldn’t be that big, right?
He’d been wrong. This place was huge. He swore it was bigger than Skyloft itself.
Sighing heavily, he leaned against a stone wall as the fires crackled on the torches. He’d been up most of the night with Zelda, and it had been, well, incredible, but also now he was exhausted, he’d already gotten so overwhelmingly stressed he’d gotten ill, and he had no idea where the heck he was.
I’ve got to be close, right? He thought desperately, his head starting to ache.
Link took a fortifying breath and started to walk again. At least he’d finally adjusted to the climate. Surface Sickness could be a pain with the lingering fatigue it often brought, but he’d been down here long enough that he’d adapted. He was sure Zelda felt the same way.
Where even was Zelda? He hadn’t seen her all morning.
A familiar anxiety tried to well its way into his mind, but he shook his head. No one here was going to hurt her; he learned that much from yesterday’s celebration.
Whispers of doubts, worries, and observations started to overwhelm him, and he shook his head again. No. He wasn’t going to think about it. He would just keep moving forward like he always did. Everything was fine.
Link felt some hope spark within him as he saw a door up ahead. That had to be it, right?
Picking up his pace, he opened the door to find himself in an unfamiliar room. White and grey tiles lined the floor and were occasionally covered with red velvet carpet. The stone walls had many bookshelves lined along them aside from multiple arched windows. A desk was in the corner, a vanity on the other wall beside a large four post bed, and a massive spiraling staircase was in front of the wall opposite of him.
Link bit his lip. This wasn’t the room provided to him, so he wouldn’t find Zelda here. But he was so tired, and he couldn’t tell what time it was, but the sun was definitely still hanging heavily, slowly crawling up into the sky. His mind was a fog, trying to hide words of curses and malice in a haze that left him feeling incapable of thinking straight. A nap would do him so good; he could find Zelda when he could actually focus.
Making his way to the bed, he promptly collapsed on top of the blanket, immediately falling asleep.
XXX
Princess Zelda scribbled some notes into her research journal and then leaned back in her seat. After the festivities earlier in the night she’d buried herself in work. She was eager to talk to their esteemed guests about the guardians and the divine beasts, and she was even more eager to learn about their era. Perhaps they knew about the divine beasts? Perhaps they were the ones who had ordered their construction? It was hard to tell – the tales spoke of their development ten thousand years ago, but there were other myths of different heroes and enemies and she didn’t know how they all fit together. Organizing it all in her journal would help.
It also gave her confidence to even approach them. Her brief interaction with Hylia last night had been exhilarating, but there was still a degree of timidity involved. As for the Hero of Myth, he was somewhat of an enigma; his gentle and soft features were unassuming and kind, but his mannerisms sometimes were contradictory. He had much more confidence and boldness in him than her appointed knight; sitting on the arm of the throne so casually with his arm draped around the goddess was quite the gesture, and everyone had commented on it. Zelda wasn’t really sure what to make of him. Still, if she’d learned anything from her experiences with her friend, it was to not judge a book by its cover.
Closing her journal, the princess stood and stretched. She’d probably take a walk around the castle a bit before heading to bed. When she exiting her study, however, she jolted to realize that it was early morning light.
Oh. Oops. No wonder I’m tired.
The princess had a momentary panic as she thought about whether she had any duties to attend to in the morning. When her addled mind found none, she relaxed. Perhaps she’d have time to sleep for a few hours before she was needed. Zelda walked across the bridge between the tower and her quarters and thoughtfully made her way down the spiral stairs into her room.
And then she stopped dead in her tracks as she heard soft snoring.
Her heart racing, she slowly crept towards her bed to see… to see…
Is that the Hero?!
Princess Zelda stared, completely flabbergasted. The Hero of Myth Descended from the Sky was prone on her bed, not even under the covers, not even in sleep clothes of any sort. He looked like he’d just belly flopped onto the mattress and passed out.
Zelda looked around wildly as if she should find someone else in the room. What was—why was he—what was she supposed to do?! What was happening?!
To be in her bedroom – such an action could have someone thrown in lockup, but this was the legendary Hero, this was—this was…
Zelda just stared, her brain fried. She didn’t know what to do.
The Hero continued to snore quietly, undeterred by the princess’ anxiety.
Gulping, Zelda tiptoed closer to her bed. Perhaps… he was unwell? And he just found her room? Or perhaps he had wanted to talk to her? Oh goddess, had he been up all night waiting for her?! No, that doesn’t fit, why would he be sleeping in my bed?!
Following her initial logic, she looked him over to see if he looked ill. Although there were bags under his eyes, a testament to his heavy sleeping, nothing else seemed unusual.
Shaking her head, she reached a tentative hand out and lightly tapped the young Hero on the shoulder. Nothing. Zelda gave another, more confident tap. Still nothing.
She cleared her throat. “E-excuse me.”
The snoring continued.
Starting to grow annoyed, Zelda huffed, “Excuse me.”
The Hero shifted, just a hair, and Zelda’s confidence vanished in a heartbeat. She took a startled step away, but it was for nothing. The Hero remained asleep.
Now what?!
She debated calling a guard or even her father, but she thought better of it. It wasn’t like he was doing anything too offensive, she supposed, even if it made absolutely no sense. Should she keep trying to wake him up? He clearly was exhausted.
Zelda bit her lip. She’d lost her boldness from earlier, no longer wishing to disturb him. She… she guessed he could just stay there. But where was she going to sleep?
Looking around the room and stepping away from the bed, Zelda’s gaze fell on the comfortable red chair in the center. Well… there was that.
I don’t want to sleep in a chair, she grumbled internally, and a part of her was incensed to awaken the Hero once more.
Energized, she tried again, but poking did nothing, speaking did little more than make the man occasionally twitch, and huffing in exasperation fell upon deaf ears.
Good grief, he is a heavy sleeper!
Eventually, Zelda gave up entirely. She didn’t want to bother going to one of the many guest quarters as they were nowhere near her room – and the instant she left her room she’d likely get absconded into some matter or another. She was almost too tired to care at this point.
Resigned to her fate, the princess dragged her feet to the chair, trying to get comfortable in some awkward position, and attempted to fall asleep. Her neck started to ache at the way she had it on the arm of the chair, and she felt confined in her dress, which she didn’t dare change out of while the Hero was in the room.
Well, she supposed she could grab her nightgown and change in the study, but… she didn’t feel comfortable doing so. Besides, what would that look like if a servant came in? She would be practically indecent with a married man, the Hero of Myth, her bloody ancestor in her room.
Maybe since he was her ancestor it wouldn’t look as scandalous? Or would it be even more so? She didn’t know.
Zelda sighed irritably, but then a sound caught her attention. It wasn’t gentle snores. It sounded… it sounded like a whimper.
Stiffening, she listened and heard it again. Uncurling from her chair, she glanced in the direction of the bed to see the Hero turning, his brow furrowed and his nose scrunched in what looked to be fear or worry. Was he waking up?
The Hero continued to shift, looking uncomfortable, and Zelda realized that he was still very much asleep.
A nightmare. He was having a nightmare.
Did heroes have nightmares? What could possibly scare him?
Zelda shook her head. She should know better than to ask that now. Link was spilling with anxiety at all times with the pressure he was under. She wondered if he had nightmares too.
The Hero let out a small whine. Zelda felt her chest clench. She couldn’t just watch him like this.
Rising, Zelda slowly and hesitantly walked to the bed. The Hero was on his side now, facing away from her. His body was tense and occasionally twitched, and he was subtly curling in on himself.
He looked so incredibly vulnerable. So normal. He didn’t look like a mythical hero, or the progenitor of the royal line, or the champion who triumphed over the original Calamity.
He was just a person, like Link. Like her.
Grabbing a hold of her resolve with this thought in mind, Zelda placed both hands on his arm and gave him a hard shake.
The Hero inhaled sharply through his nose, and his body froze. His breathing, initially rising to a level of gasping, was now evening out in careful, measured inhales and exhales. Though the princess couldn’t see his eyes, she could tell he was now awake.
She cleared her throat, trying not to startle him. The mild jump that shook his entire body indicated she didn’t quite succeed.
Quickly turning onto his back, the Hero’s eyes pierced into her, his face a little pale. Zelda swallowed, her nerves returning under his deep blue gaze. She had grown used to long, silent glances from Link, but his eyes somehow seemed… she didn’t know, the lighter blue made them less mysterious maybe. This Hero’s eyes were dark, like oceans that held so much in their depths that she couldn’t see. He seemed to be analyzing her for a moment, making her skin crawl, and then his eyes softened, his body easing into a more comfortable posture.
“Hi,” he said hoarsely, and his face relaxed.
Zelda blinked, not quite expecting such a simple greeting. “Um… hello. A-are you alright?”
The Hero gave a small smile, his head tilting somewhat into the pillow, and Zelda felt her heart melt as her muscles stopped clenching quite so hard. “I’m okay. Are you?”
Zelda bit her lip. “You were having a nightmare.”
His smile faded a little, and he looked away. “It happens.”
Zelda didn’t know what to say to that. She hugged herself, unsure what to do next. The Hero sighed and glanced back at her, asking, “Is this your bed?”
Her exasperation from earlier resurfaced, and she folded her arms. “Yes, actually.”
He hummed a moment and then said, “Is this your side of the bed? Do you have a side?”
Zelda blinked. What?
“There’s plenty of room.”
Zelda blinked again, horrified. What?!
The Hero smiled and stretched, closing his eyes, and then beginning to fall back asleep.
Wait a bloody second— “Um, excuse me.”
The Hero opened his eyes.
“This is my bed.”
The Hero stared at her. “Yes?”
Clearly, there was a miscommunication going on here. Zelda felt her cheeks blush as she grew flustered. “So I sleep in it.”
The Hero twisted, looking at the other side of the bed, glanced back at her, and pat the empty space beside him, bemused.
Was he—?! “I can’t sleep with you!”
The princess didn’t quite mean for her voice to sound like a near squeak when she said that.
The Hero looked even more confused. “Why not?”
“Why not?!” Zelda spluttered, feeling her ears redden as well. “Because—because it isn’t proper!”
“Proper for what?”
Zelda stared at him, mouth agape like a fish out of water.
The Hero furrowed his brow. “A bed’s for sleeping, after all. And there’s plenty of room for you to sleep here too.”
Zelda shut her mouth with a click on her teeth. She opened it again to protest and came up with nothing.
This was… this was ridiculous. But she was running out of both nerve and energy trying to explain how this was not okay, thank you very much.
But… he looked… so confused.
Who was this guy?! This legendary Hero of Myth from the Sky was the biggest enigma Zelda had ever met, and he…
She sighed, defeated. “At least take your boots off.”
Her heart skipped a beat at commanding a legend as if he were a normal person, and then she banished the thought. He was a normal person; she was recognizing that more and more.
And he was certainly an uncultured person. Downright feral, even. Who didn’t understand basic etiquette?!
The Hero bit his lip, looking positively brow beaten. “Sorry.”
Before Zelda could say anything, he kicked off his boots, letting them fall to the side of the bed, and then he slipped under the covers with a content sigh, closing his eyes.
Zelda stared at him. Then stared some more. Then stared some more.
What just happened? Had she just chastised the ancient Hero of Myth? Had he just apologized like a child being scolded? And was he still sleeping in her bed?!
She sighed again, exhausted. There was no arguing at this point. And she was too tired to care. And…
You know what? Screw it. He’s innocent and naïve, there’s no harm to it… it can’t be that bad.
Grabbing her nightdress, she tiptoed to her study, quickly changed clothes, and then made her way back to her room. The Hero was already snoozing. She watched him a moment more, grabbed a robe and wrapped herself in it with flustered energy, and then took a deep breath and settled onto the bed as if she were lying on a bed of charcoals in Goron City.
She did have to admit this was much more comfortable than trying to sleep in that chair, though.
With that thought in mind, Zelda turned to face away from the Hero and settled into an uneasy sleep.
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accidentally thought too hard about uni and now I want to die
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arcxnumvitae · 1 year
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Movement halts mid step as a command carried. A group draped in attire befitting of palace security filled her line of vision; not a gap of doubt to be heard. Slowly, her arms extend out from her sides. Grip far from her weapons if only to de-escalate a matter of trespassing. Last thing she needed was an incident over carelessness.
— Not to mention the punishment that would await her.
“Forgive the intrusion.” Had Anna faced a similar issue when she popped by to see that other fae?
Fingers slowly reach for the small pack by her waist; one carefully withdrawn without breaking eye contact. A silent prayer of gratitude for changing the location of her knives lest the guards react with less than enthused patience. Held by the edge, a deep raven envelope rimmed with gold shines under the light. Sigil pressed into melted wax with dusted matching yellow; winged serpent of the sea front and center with the remainder of the crest laid behind it. Faintly she could spot the laced violet among the corners of the invitation; a trick of the light to breathe honor of the Empress’ colors.
“A delivery for King Camhlaidh from Empress Calore.” (Loraine)
@lunarxdaydream || Continuation
Suspicious eyes continued to follow the woman's movement, a collective tensing rippling through when she reached for a pouch at her waist. Upon an envelope being produced, one guard stepped forward to inspect it. A seal marked the back, one supposedly from that empress who had visited a time or two again. Unfortunately...they were unsure exactly of what her seal looked like. Should they risk bringing this messenger to the king bearing a potentially fake seal? ....
The guard with the envelope glanced back to their companion, who made a small gesture with his hand and addressed Loraine.
"We will escort you to the king's advisor to verify this letter. If it is indeed Empress Calore's signature, you will be allowed to present it to the king."
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divabandits-blog · 11 months
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List of 24 Awesome T-shirts from Woot Deals & Discounts! Posted 11-1-2023!
List of 24 Awesome T-shirts from Woot Deals & Discounts! Posted 11-1-2023!
List of 24 Awesome T-shirts from Woot Deals & Discounts! Posted 11-1-2023! Here is an impressive compilation of 24 remarkable T-shirts available at Woot Deals & Discounts! Stay ahead of the style game with these fantastic shirts. All the details were posted on 11-1-2023. Get ready to upgrade your wardrobe with these amazing finds! #AD Product prices and availability are accurate as of the…
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cynarisgayass · 3 months
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𓍊𓋼~In the heat of the moment~𓋼𓍊
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Type: Short oneshots
Description: WOOT! First ZZZ writing! Let's go! So basically this is like, you're on the run from the ethereals and you're hidden, backed up against a wall. The heat of the moment leads to a kiss because you think you may not make it out in time and it's something you have to do before you die type thing. You get out tho dw. Ngl it's kinda cringey, but do I care? Nope.
Rating: Mature
Reader: GN, is a proxy (not either of the MCs though)
Includes: Nicole/ Billy kid
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Nicole:
You're eyes darted in the direction you'd just came from, you had beads of sweat forming on your forehead and your heart felt like it was about to pound out of your chest. They were getting closer, ethereals more menacing then you'd ever seen and despite your expert knowledge on the hollow...there didn't seem to be a way for you to ditch them...or even get out for that matter.
"Proxy! What do we do know?! Billy and Anby are already outside and those things are catching up?! Hello!! I'm not paying the deposit if you don't answer me!" Nicole punched your arm gently, you could tell she was starting to get scared and if you were being honest, telling her you didn't know how to get her out was probably the most difficult thing you'd ever done.
"I'm sorry Nicole, I...I should've found another escape route...done more." You looked down at your feet, but her hands grabbed onto your shoulders and she shook you, "Proxy, snap out of it. If we can't get out of here then...then I'm not going down without a fight and I'm not going to have you moping around in our final moments!"
Your eyes met hers and despite everything, she had smile on her face as she spoke to you. Of course, you'd always considered her beautiful, but in that moment you realized what you needed to do, before anything could force the two of you apart for good. You pulled her closer to you and closed the gap, kissing her as the heat of the moment painted feelings in both of your hearts.
You only parted when Billy's voice rang out in your ears and a rope swayed in front of you, guiding you to safety.
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Billy kid:
Billy's guns rang out in your ears as you bolted into the nearest building, slamming the door shut behind you when the two of you were safely inside. He hurried to barricade it while you caught your breath, ethereals clobbering around outside and your head spinning with every option of escaping, but there didn't seem to be any. You were out of options..."Billy, i-i don't know what to do. That was our only exit...i can't think of any others and my bangboos malfunctioning....we are gonna die! I'm sorry! This is all my fault!"
You felt tears prick at your eyes and emotions tug at your heartstrings, of all the times you could have failed a mission...why know.
"Woah now Proxy! Don't blame yourself! In my eyes you're my Starlight Knight! You worked so hard to get us out of here and I know you tried your best, that's all I could ask for...and I'm just glad, I'm not alone." He shoved his gun back in his holster and patted the top of your head gently, it was a little random sure...but it felt nice.
The poorly made barricade started to give out and the only thing you could think to do before you were corrupted by ethereals, was seal the deal with the cyborg you'd fallen in love with. You stood up straighter and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his metal face as he (somehow??) blushed bright pink.
"Proxy, Billy!! This way! We cleared a path!"
The two of you snapped your attention behind you, were Nicole and Andy were standing, with all to knowing smiles on their faces. Apparently Nicole had already made bets on when you'd finally share your feelings...though now wasn't the time to collect...yet.
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simphoraa · 1 year
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Sweet & Sour Legacy Challenge - Sims 3
Created by Simphora & Gabrielle-kl 
Hey guys! Surprise, surprise. Me and Gabby did a little something.. we created a Sims 3 challenge! Woot-woot! This is our very first time creating a challenge together. We had such a blast. I’d like say this challenge is fun and unique. We put our FOOT into making this because us Sims 3 simmers are in desperate need of more challenges. Also, feel free to check out Gabby’s amazing challenge called, Not Your Average Legacy Challenge. 
The Sweet & Sour Legacy Challenge is a six generation legacy challenge inspired by fruits. These fruits have a sweet and sour aesthetic for each generation. For example, the sweet fruit generations are compassionate and up-beat. Meanwhile, there’s a little twist with the sour fruit generations because it’s more pessimistic and chaotic. All-in-all, if you're a simmer that is looking for a fruit themed and drama fulfilled legacy challenge, this is a challenge for you!
If you’re interested in doing this challenge, please feel free to tag us: @simphoraa @gabrielle-kl​ or #sweet&sourlegacy. We would love to see your progress and gameplay!
R U L E S:
You must follow each generation in chronological order. 
It is recommend that you use all of the provided traits.
If you do not have a certain Sims 3 expansion pack that is related to the traits, careers, or goals, you can make adjustments.
The aesthetic color/colours for each generation is optional.
Before moving on to the next generation, you must complete all of the required goals.
DO NOT use any money cheat codes (ex: motherload, kaching, or rosebud).
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Generation #1 - Watermelon: One in a Melon
You like to see yourself as the main character, and you think that everyone that comes in contact with you thinks so too.
Everyone absolutely loves you! Or do they? As unique as you are, you want to be a famous actor or actress. Soon enough Hollywood would be signing your name on everything! You find yourself chilling with A-list celebrities and even date a few. You have everything you could ever want! No one can ruin this for you, except maybe yourself.
Get started: Live in a small starter house or apartment. Purchase your basic necessities to survive, and progressively buy more necessities once you start earning some simoleons. Good luck!
Starting simoleons - §1,200
Traits - Charismatic, Dramatic, Snob, Star Quality, and Workaholic
Career - Film
Lifetime Wish - Superstar Actor
Aesthetic Color/Colour
Goals:
Become a five-star celebrity
Ruin your reputation 2 times, make your life a little scandalous! (ex: get publicly disgraced)
Master the Charismatic skill
Reach level 10 in the Film Career (choose the actor branch)
Have 2 close friends
Host a meet & greet once a week (ex: sign autographs and take pictures with fans)
Fall in love with one of your fans
Have as many kids as you want
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Generation #2 - Lemon: When life gives you lemons.. you have to deal with some sour sh*t!
Sigh! Your childhood was already enough as it was with being a nepotistic child, but now there’s even more shenanigans.
Apart from hiding in your parents' shadows and not being the main focus when it comes to the paparazzi. You carry a nice and sweet persona on the outside. Those who were fortunate enough to have a conversation with you say your personality is like, “stuffing their mouths with a bunch of sour candy”, but you didn’t hear that from me. Just know, it’s okay to loosen up a bit. You do not always need to leave a bitter taste in one’s mouth.
In the course of time, you finally meet someone and insert yourself into their life. Love makes you do some silly things. You want to help them with their unlawful issues because you think that you can help them figure things out and get their life back on track. Realistically speaking, you would never think of laying your eyes on someone with a completely different personality than yours and a terrible outlook on life. Oh boy! You're in for a nice treat.
Traits - Bookworm, Grumpy, Hopeless Romantic, No sense of humor, and Perceptive
Career - Journalism or Private Investigator
Lifetime Wish - Star News Anchor or Pervasive Private Eye
Aesthetic Color/Colour
Goals:
Get romantically involved with a criminal  
Be disliked by a few sims. Having “friends” isn’t your thing because people disappoint you
Master the Writing or Logic skill
Reach level 5 in the Journalism or Private Investigator Career, and then quit or get fired
Have 1 failed marriage
Have only 1 child
Have a bad relationship with your child
Find a hobby or skill, and make a source of income out of it
Have a rebound relationship with someone
C H O I C E:
This generation has a choice for you to make. These are choices that you could build off of and integrate into your storyline.
Hmm, it looks like you have found love again. Are you genuinely happy this time? You may be a little traumatized from the last relationship. Just remember, everyone isn’t the same. This rebound relationship could be turning into something really serious. There may even be wedding bells in your future. Do you want to give marriage a second chance or stay in the “dating” stage?
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Generation #3 - Strawberry: You’re the sweetest pick of the patch!
Everyone loves you, at least this time. Nobody is actually lying. Good job! Everyone finds you to be the sweetest sim in the patch. And, trust me, you will most definitely take full advantage of all this attention. You mainly use it for a good cause. You love power, but not in an evil kind of way. You want to use that power to help those in need.
You attend University in hopes of being the future president of the free world and eventually start raising a happy family that is way better than how your current family dynamic is right now. I don’t really know anything, but deep down you want to be better than your parents because you have a weird feeling that they were doing some shady things before you were born.
Traits - Friendly, Family-Oriented, Good, Irresistible, and Schmoozer
Career - Political
Lifetime Wish - Leader of the Free World
Aesthetic Color/Colour
Goals:
Fix your relationship with your parent
Maintain A’s in school and even aim to become an honor/honour roll student (child-teen)
In high school, join the debate club
Enroll into University and major in Communications
Host a rant/protest once a week
Donate to a charity once in a while
Join a Social Group (Nerd, Rebel, or Jock)
Throw a party every weekend in Sims University
Earn the Communications degree
Reach level 10 in the Political Career
Be a good role model as a parent and a faithful spouse
Have about 2-4 kids
Retire from the Political Career once an elder
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Generation #4 - Green Apple: One bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch..
You want to find love just like how your parents have it. You can’t seem to find someone that fits the description of your dream partner. All of your attempts seem to fall flat. Why? You’re not that bad of a person. You’re just exploring a bit. You may be a little picky, but everyone has their own personal preferences within a person. Right? Hmm.. maybe you're just picking the wrong kind of sims? Do not give up. Keep putting yourself out there until you find the one. Just do not get yourself caught up. They say the world is one tiny place..
Traits - Commitment Issues, Flirty, Over-emotional, Social Butterfly, and Unlucky
Career - Any self-employed career
Lifetime Wish - Heartbreaker
Aesthetic Color/Colour
Goals:
Maintain a good relationship with your parents
Create an Online Dating Profile
Go out on a date every weekend
Have 10 failed relationships (get caught cheating or initiate a break-up)
Have an accidental baby from a hook-up
Avoid/Lose contact with some of your friends. You forgot about them. You’re too “caught up” in love
Start a Personal Blog
Post daily blogs about your life
Reach level 7 in Social Networking skill
Attempt to meet someone through the Sim Finder App
C H O I C E:
This generation has a choice for you to make. These are choices that you could build off of and integrate into your storyline.
Good news! It looks like you may have found the sim of your dreams through your blog. Out of all those fishes in the sea, it only took ten different sims to find them. Do you try to fix your reputation, and finally settle down or continue to be a.. heartbreaker?
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Generation #5 - Blueberry: Life is very sweet, and you are naturally sweet
Being generous and compassionate is one thing, but doing it all the time, even to the sims that do not deserve it.. gets draining. You kept it pushing. Hey, even I am surprised you lasted this long. Everyone makes mistakes. Although, some people are just unforgivable. It turns out you're the type of sim that doesn’t hold others' mistakes against them forever because holding grudges is immature.
You’ve studied hard to be in a career that has long tiresome hours where you're barely at home, and if you think you got lucky in some extra lounge time – Oh! There goes your alarm, it’s time to clock in! Unfortunately, since you're never home, some things just seem to slip under the rug. Only so much can be slipping through the cracks for you to be completely oblivious. Hmm, I wonder how long this has been going on for? I could never trust someone again after that stunt. Could you?
Traits - Ambitious, Eco-Friendly, Friendly, Genius, and Loves the Outdoors
Career - Science
Lifetime Wish - Become a Creature-Robot Cross Breeder or Renaissance Sim
Aesthetic Color/Colour 
Goals:
Have your sim live the Eco-friendly lifestyle (ex: own a bicycle, eat organic food, recycle, etc)
Start a garden
Fish once a day
Catch/Collect 5 different uncommon or rare type of fishes
Master the Gardening, Handiness, and Fishing skill
Grow a plantsim or create a small farm (ex: raise chickens, cows, horses, etc) [PICK ONE]
Fall in love with one of your co-workers
Once married, make your Spouse have 2 affairs and you must stay with them
Try repairing your marriage with your spouse, but only if you catch them cheating
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Generation #6 - Grapefruit: Don’t be such a sour puss!
Let’s be realistic here. You need to get your life together. I’m sorry. I know this is something you do not want to hear, but ya need to put a pep in your step and do something with yourself. Pronto!
You find it quite unfair how other sims around you get to go on fancy trips, have nice cars, live in mansions or high-rise buildings, and afford expensive meals. You wonder to yourself how one can achieve all these kind of lifestyles. Dangerous choices can lead to serious consequences, but it’ll never stop you. I would say you like to live your life on the edge. So, what if you leave a place with five different things that do not belong to you? Any who --- hey, wait a minute... since when did your neighbor/neighbour get such a nice car? Oh my god! Did they seriously leave their keys in the slot like that? Someone could just steal it. It is a really nice car though. I think I might take it for a little spin around the block.. Finders keepers, losers weepers!
Traits - Athletic, Childish, Hot-headed, Kleptomaniac, and Night-owl
Career - Criminal
Lifetime Wish - Possession is Nine Tenths of the Law
Aesthetic Color/Colour
Goals:
Steal 3 items a day
Possess §50,000 worth of stolen items (do not sell anything)
Befriend your ALL of your neighbors/neighbours. No one knows what you do in your free time. You could get some valuable goodies from them, wink wink
Get arrested
Work out 3 times a week at the community Gym
Master the Athletic skill
Live in a house worth over §100,000
Scuffle with someone once a week
Adopt a child
C H O I C E:
This generation has a choice for you to make. These are choices that you could build off of and integrate into your storyline.
Uh-oh, there’s a new addition to the family. Now, you have a lot of responsibility on your hands. This is very important to you. Is this the perfect time to finally get your life together by quitting your job as a Criminal and find a new job? Or, remain a Criminal, but hide it? This has been your lifestyle for a while. Just remember that this could also make you look like a “bad parent” because children can be easily influenced.
If you have made it to the end of this challenge, we want to thank you so much for participating and completing it. Let us know what you think as well!
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respectthepetty · 3 months
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Background Noise in Wandee Goodday
This started because of that "First Kiss: Do you believe in first kiss?" poster Yak ripped in the elevator
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And I was going to write something about the importance of clocks in Yak and Dee's relationship
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Since they made a deal to fake it for four months, the clocks are always present
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And counting down their time together.
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But then I also wanted to write about Yak still seeing his necklace on Dee when he imagined Dee kissing Ter during his boxing match.
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So instead of writing small separate posts, everything is going here in quick snippets starting with the how Yak's life is all about boxing, all the time.
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He has the boxing gloves name plate, and so does Yei
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He has nothing but pictures and books of boxers all over his room
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His clock has a pair of gloves in the center and his decorations all have boxing gloves, say "eat, sleep, box, repeat," and show a boxer with the statement "I am the best"
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The posters over the bed and the pictures on the nightstands are of him and his brother in their boxing gear.
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And even the pictures in the house are of boxers, and of course the smiley face boxing gloves.
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So I liked that the smiley face gloves tied to the smiley face balloons Yei gave Cher.
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I thought about mentioning the signs, but we all see those, so instead I'll focus on shirts, like Dee's shirt is three angels with "Saint Michael" and says to "Say a Prayer and Get Lost in the Flames." Saint Michael is the ultimate protector against wickedness and temptation, yet the shirt says to embrace it. Yak's shirt says "love is giving freedom" and is part of a longer lesson about love not being about possession or control but about love setting people free.
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About Last Night is an American romcom about two people who have a one-night stand and fall in love. The original and remake both show the couple's ups and downs with communication as they deal with their shifting feelings.
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When Yak goes over for dinner and finds Dee in Ter's apartment, his shirt says "Casual Active Original Wear" yet the only part we ever see throughout the entire sequence of events is "CASUAL"
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Normally, Yak's shirts are motivational, like "Success"
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And leading up to Yak's fight, his shirts become more motivational like the shirt he wakes Dee up in states that winning is a mental game.
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"Good things are coming"
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And how even though going uphill is hard and going downhill is easy, the uphill battle is best because the view is better.
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But the best shirt is when he excitedly goes to his appointment after his one-night stand with Dee since it says "Heart Melt" and explains that a heart melts when a person begins to have feelings for another person.
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Dee also gets sentimental after they listen to the song together on the balcony about loving someone because his shirt says "Relation: Friendship involves a lot of love"
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I'm sure the "Favorite" shirt has meaning since he is wearing it as he thinks about missing Yak, but I just want everyone to know that is Monument Valley in the picture which is part of the Navajo Tribal Parks (woot woot!), and I'm proud to see it in a Thai series.
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Finally, I would just like to appreciate whoever put Inn and his arms in this "Heavy Metal" shirt.
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aliaology · 9 months
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NOW THAT WE DONT TALK
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summary: erm.. idk for this one but pt. 8!
warnings: erm none…
series masterlist
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user
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liked by user, user and 287,826 others
user upcoming singer, y/n marner found crying hotel pool after a party her close friend had the night before.
📸 : user
comments
user yall dk how to leave my girl ALONE
user FR dick riders ong!!
user why is this such a big deal like are girls not allowed to cry
user bet u its bc of trevor or jack lol
user also sabrina carpenter was the one with her after the party too!!
user wtf is this lol
user 🔥🔥
user can we glaze someone else for once
user y was girl crying at a POOL 💀
user she prolly needed fresh air dawg
user this is WILD
user hope jack sees this xx
ynusername hi yes this is in fact me crying lol!! i just had an extreme hangover and was very overwhelmed xx thats all!
user poor baby :((
user lmfao who asked
user k and
user feel better babes
ynusername
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liked by marner_93, austonmatthews and others
ynusername this is not me condoning alcohol, but this is me condoning a much needed drink!
comments
marner_93 im kicking your ass when you get home
ynusername and that wont be for awhile xx 🥳
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ynusername save me
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user shes so 🤗🤗🤗
user whore
user AND DID 😻😻😻
user wasnt she like just found crying
user yeah LMFAO
user pretty girl
edwards.73 are u coming back to umich soon..
ynusername yes pookie
edwards.73 finally 😒
ynusername dont give me that attitude
gracieabrams 🤩🤩
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im making a book on wattpad woot woot!!
tags: @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lxnceclercs , @honethatty12 , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @lovinbarzal , @shadowsndaisies , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @Robloxlover2007 , @p3nislawd , @alexx-stancati , @queenmendes , @-eedwardss , @if-my-heart-bleeds , @love-like-woaah , @freds-slut
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feelo-fick · 10 months
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WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!
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"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."
This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA
still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )
au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!
the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.
unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?
meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?
that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!
... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.
WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)
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deafsignifcantother · 3 months
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♥ summary: after being flabbergasted at meeting a deaf person for the first time, and after husk gives him a little lesson, angel approaches with an apology. based off of if music be the food of love woot woot but i changed the reader to be a little less obvious it's the other protag so it's easier to consume for people who aren't interested in the series bc i love my audience :3 ♥ relationship: angel dust and x deaf woman reader (platonic) ♥ word count: 2.2k ♥ notes: for @glitched-out-dusk , reader talks with alastor a lot bc i actively hc alastor knows asl and i'll never change that in my stories
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The first time Angel saw you, he didn't try to communicate. He just analyzed you, staring you up and down, wondering if you were faking your Deafness. You stared at him back with a small smile. The moment only lasted a few seconds since Charlie decided it was time to butt in and start a conversation with you. Angel kept glancing over, his arms crossed, watching your body movements and how your eyes flicker around. You stare at others' lips, which is a weird habit, and though you have a clueless look in your eyes, you never look away from others' faces.
You are the first visitor in months after Sir Pentious. Since he came, Charlie hoped another visitor would seek redemption, and her positive affirmations came true. Angel only has expectancy this day. It's not like any other person will come knocking on the door.
His brain sinks into dirty thoughts while he watches you: how loud would you moan if you were doing the nasty? What would please a deaf girl most?
Husk can practically hear the porn star's thoughts, but Angel Dust's forcing those thoughts into his head to repress what he really feels. His heart decides on feeling a tinge of forsaken loneliness, he's going to be forgotten again, isn't he? But you're the one most isolated with the language barrier. You might be the forgotten one, right? Does he, selfishly, want that?
It is all Angel can do to imagine what you must be feeling, understand the situation you've found yourself in; dealing with everybody and losing social interaction. He's become a part of that cause, hasn't he?
Damn you. Damn you for forcing him to learn something new. Damn you for making him realize how empty he feels in the group and how he doesn't want you to feel the same way.
So sometimes, after you go to sleep, he'll stay up with Husk, both cooing at him and begging him to teach basic sentences.
Simple signs stick with Angel, even as drunk.
"Is hello that easy?" He asks. Husk just laughs.
"Some signs are a lot easier than you'd think."
Husk is rusty in his ability. He's only had to use the language a few times when he was alive, and he doesn't remember ever interacting with an actual Deaf person. Surely, he had learned it for a good reason. His soul is so long gone that he can't even remember.
But the alphabet sticks with him, and so do gambling-related signs. He picks apart those sentences and tries to teach Angel the words rather than their meanings when pieced together.
And one night, not even a week since you arrived, somebody tapped Angel's shoulder as he leaned over the bar's counter.
He turns, hair bouncing with the whip of his head, and he bites the inside of his lip when he sees you. He finger spells your name, and you can only give him a sympathetic smile in your sleepy haze.
"Good job," you sign to him before turning to Husk. "Do you have water over here, or is it in the kitchen?"
He stares at you blankly. You, water, pointing to the bar, pointing somewhere else, question face. "Yeah, give me a second."
Angel eyes you, taking notes in his head. Your hands move slower when you sign to Husk, compared to signing with Alastor, and you tend to sign high so Husk can focus on your hands instead of your eyes.
Holding back a yawn, you rub your eyes while sitting on a stool, taking the very full glass of water and sipping the top. If you sit here, they'd have to acknowledge your presence, but they need to be more confident to hold a conversation. What could they even talk about? Card dealing? Sex?
You look between them and smile to yourself, dropping your head and looking away in case they try to start signing. You're just here for water, not to be a test subject. The more they practice, the better they'll be.
A small groan leaves your throat. As you turn to Angel, he stops talking to Husk, closing his lips and searching your lifted hands. You sign your name, giving him your name sign, hoping he'd understand. When he stares at you in panic, you fingerspell your name and then wave it off, signing your name again.
Husk speaks up, dropping his voice. "It's her name. You don't gotta fingerspell it all the time."
Angel glances over, whispering as if you'd overhear. "Do I gotta use it everytime I see her? When do I use it?"
"It's a fucking name, you don't go around naming Charlie every time you see her."
Your eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them. Husk pauses, and so does Angel, almost in alarm.
"Idiots." You're not even sure they understood the insult, but you keep going. You grab the glass with one hand, signing with the other. "I know you filled this up just to keep me here."
Husk shrugs, pretending to understand, and grabs a bottle (copying your actions) and drinks it. Angel stares with red cheeks, awkwardly holding his own and mimicking the movement.
You fight a frown; they're so annoyingly cute.
So you chug the drink, closing your eyes as you do so. Angel would have preferred if you had stayed, but he had to say his goodbyes with his hand twitching as if he was waving wrong. You get up from the stool. "See you tomorrow," to Husk and a simple wave to Angel.
They both watch you walk off.
"Could have been worse," Husk mumbles.
"Great. What if she thinks I'm a dumbass." He puts his check in his hand, his elbow pressing hard into the wood of the counter. The words sound faint coming from Angel. The change of heart has Husk grinning behind a bottle. "What's come over you?"
He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, it's whatever."
.
Once again, once you wake up, you walk downstairs and head straight to the bar. But Husk isn't there. A prominent frown falls onto your face. The water you drank last night was the most comfortable liquid you've ever had the pleasure of drinking in Hell. It cleared your throat and overstayed its welcome in your need for hydration. You enter behind the bar, eyeing the crazy amount of bottles and the array of fridges. How does he remember all of these products? Perhaps he just drinks them and hopes they do something. Your hand runs across the area for mixing, feeling the sticky covers. Maybe he's not the best bartender.
You grab a glass, wiping off the rim just in case, and you eye the hose-like thing nearing the sink.
Husk watches from afar but your focus is too direct to perceive his presence. You push down on a trigger as lightly as possible, and a powerful burst of water fills the cup, wetting your arms. You place the glass on the counter and use a hand towel to dry yourself off. Is this thing stained? You hope not. It's so unclean back here.
You see the blurry colors of Husk in the corner of your eye before you look up at him. He can't help but give you a small, unadorned smile.
You figured the water out yourself; that's cute; the whole ordeal was a show he would have paid to watch.
He crosses your body and stands next to you, grabbing the hose from you and showing you the switch on it. It's not a button but a pressure-related scale. Your mouth forms an O.
Angel isn't the only one who wants you to feel welcomed.
Vaggie is having issues letting Angel be the second guest getting so close to you. She knows that he is undoubtedly someone who can't read the room and will fit sexual words into any conversation. His ability to read the room is either nonexistent or actively ignored. She watches him practicing signing with Husk whenever he can. Maybe he's trying to learn complete sentences before harassing you.
She also notices that whenever he hears the click of your shoes against the floor, he'll look up with excitement, clenching his fists to calm down his delight. He always tells himself, 'this is the day I'll actually talk to her.' The day doesn't come for a while since whenever he sees you, you're by Alastor. Alastor will tell you stories about his life (lies?) and things that happened in the hotel. He'll describe the nightshade assemblages before explaining how often their railings have fallen apart.
Angel can't understand anything that demon says but glimpses at your hand shows how comfortable you are around him. Angel stares expressionlessly at the two of you, signing back and forth, and your smiles, wide. The jealousy heats him constantly, but nothing ever comes from it.
It will take a while before he can talk to you like that. The realization puts him on the brink of giving up.
Beer dribbles downward, discoloring the tips of his chest fur. The bar is messy, as if it's not the middle of the day. His confidence rises when he drinks. All he needs is a moment where you're alone. Or not.
With all his might, he drags himself sloppily towards the lounge and almost flops onto the couch next to you. He steps over the threshold, inhaling deeply. Alastor eyes him with his every step, and you follow his gaze, staring at Angel. Angel braces himself by gripping the top cushions when he staggers close enough to the couch. He raises his right hand, fingers wiggling in thought. It almost comes across as a "wait."
Alastor's eyes go to you, half expecting you to look back at him and roll your eyes, but you continue your stern gaze at Angel.
Angel drops his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes, "I'm sorry."
The chandelier darkens his face from above, and gravity pulls down the fluff of his head that seems to have been unbrushed this morning. At your silence, his confidence melts leisurely down from his head to the tip of his fingers.
"Sorry for what?" You drop the smile that was on your face and adjust yourself to face him a little more. The major thing you notice is him signing with one hand comfortably.
"I'm sorry you only have him to talk to." Angel's interpretation of 'him' wasn't a point but a wave in the direction, almost a 'that guy over there.'
You laugh. "We are talking now, aren't we?"
More apprehension burns a hole in his chest. He finally stands up, using two hands instead of one. "I'm running out of signs I know."
"Are you sure?" You finally switch your position on the couch to face him completely, ignoring Alastor at last. Your eyes look him up and down. "You look tired."
Tired, he knows that sign.
"Just a little."
You hum, reaching out to him. Your fingers brush his fur, feeling the drip, trying to wipe it away. "Sure."
You unveil a smile that looks as if it were snatched from Charlie's at her bondings. But your eyes continue to stare intently. "You should go to sleep. Stop drinking so much. It's not even night."
"I got things to do."
"Really? Astonishing."
He snaps into focus. One day, he was worried about whether he was waving right, and days later, he signs simple sentences you understand. His vision aims at your eyes, the area he wonders he should actually be looking at.
His thoughts are interrupted by the clearing of a throat. "I'm afraid you're intruding," Alastor says. Angel frowns at him, and you follow his gaze.
"Alastor," you sign with a psah, "he's just practicing."
"Rather annoyingly, my dear. I don't know how you do it."
"With patience."
Patience, Angel doesn't know that sign. When you whip your head back and give a playful shrug, you lean in. "He's going to get pissy if I talk any longer. You're doing a good job, Angel. Don't doubt yourself."
You grab his hand, holding his pointy fingers and maneuvering his fingers to form a thumbs-up. If he doesn't understand half of your signs, at least he can understand that. And then, with a wink, you turn back to Alastor, who lets out a hum in disapproval at the whole ordeal.
The flicker of the lights went unnoticed as Angel marched over to Husk, a big smile on his face. He had left a manly collection of bottles surrounding the area, which Husk had politely taken care of.
Husk chuckles before Angel can even get close. "Yeah?"
"You won't believe it," Angel boasts. "I actually got her approval."
"Wow," it almost sounds sarcastic. "Good work."
Angel plops down on a stool, holding the edge counter to stretch out his hands, dramatically straightening his shoulders and putting pressure on the middle of his palms. "Now, whiskers, do I get a reward? I've been a good boy."
Husk grimaces as if he's smelled a foul odor. "Not excited for the day you learn how to sign that."
"She'll be ecstatic," Angel smiles at himself. "Won't even see it coming."
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portsandstars · 7 months
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Very spur of the moment predictions before RSS might drop more of these graphs :3
Thought process below!
Kuras: ok, I feel like kuras is the biggest heavy hitter stat wise. Given that he's literally an angel, my guess is that he is very very strong. He also is hundreds of years old and is experienced with healing and .. politics? Certainly knowledge about Eridia. That means that he gets high wisdom too. Moderate useless facts because I'm sure that he's picked up plenty of info during his years in the mortal realm, but he also doesn't care about a lot of things so it can't be higher. Self loathing to the max bc he either hates what he did to get him trapped on Earth, or hates that he got caught. Obviously things didn't go according to plan for him, so luck is moderate.
Vere: he's a bit harder bc he's chained, so that limits him. I debated putting his strength at a three, as he's pretty limited, but he's also a very impressive killer - possibly more so than a regular "human" killer- or else the Senobium wouldn't find him as useful. He's afraid of Kuras's true form, and so to me that says he's weaker. Despite all of his teasing and jokes, he knows a lot of things and has a good read on the world, so his wisdom should be pretty high imo. Useless facts are moderate because he has very narrow things that he enjoys learning about (sex, music, tea..). He loves himself but I also think bitterly rues the day that he was caught, so moderate self loathing. He strikes me as fairly lucky inherently- he just pushes things further and further because of his personality, which overwhelms his natural luck.
Ais: TBH I feel like vere and Ais are comparable strength, and Ais and Leander are comparable strength, so .. they all end up at 4?^^; as they're all weaker than Kuras but stronger than Mhin. For luck- it's honestly a gamble about whether Ais made a huge mistake and doomed his gang (unlucky) OR - Sacrificed them somehow, landed a deal with a God, and now has a lot of cult followers(more lucky). Wisdom- pretty low. Ais seems to have some intuition but seems more focused on fighting first and asking questions later. Self loathing is low-i feel like he's accepted himself and the choices he's made, though in the past he may have deeply regretted them. Facts- he finds it endearing when others tell him about facts, but doesn't care about them himself and even when others tell him, he enjoys how animated they get, rather than the actual facts.
Leander: without his magic, I'd place his strength at a three. But given that his magic allows him to withstand MC's curse (and make flowers !!woot) it brings his strength up to a four^^. I feel like he is SO LUCKY because 1) he was born into wealth and power, and got a good education 2) due to his scars and rebirth icons, may have survived death, which is prettty lucky if you ask me. Wisdom- he has a good sense of how people think and act, but not that much wisdom past that. Self loathing- I think Leander thinks he's hot shit LOL Useless facts - Leander strikes me as the type of person who's always remembering details other people tell him (and seeking out more info) so that he can form connections, get to know people and get more power. He's also formally educated and probably had rich people tutoring growing up. So, useless facts is pretty high!
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smilingformoney · 1 year
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Three Secrets
Summary: Hans Gruber x reader | smut | You're a member of Hans Gruber's gang of thieves, and when you take the blame for another's betrayal, Hans grants your last request.
Or: you get fucked violently by Hans, and then you die.
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I watched Die Hard, got horny, and this is the result.
Dedicated to @snowblossomreads, who so lovingly enables my thirst for this dead old man.
Warnings/content: smut, dubcon, gun kink, all your holes get penetrated (yes even that one)
Read on Ao3 or below the cut:
“Who warned die Polizei?!” Hans roared as he returned to the safehouse, panting and out of breath, his tie askew. When there was no answer from his fellow thieves, he roared in anger and smashed his fists on the table, causing the carefully-stacked Marks to collapse into piles and scatter across the floor.
“I WANT A NAME!”
The thieves began staring at each other suspiciously, agitated by the news of a betrayal and - although they’d never admit it - frightened of Hans’ anger.
With a sudden BANG!, Hans shot down the man nearest him. Probably not the rat, and certainly a good thief - but Hans was angry, and he wanted to punish someone.
You stood up immediately.
“It was me,” you lied.
It wasn’t you, of course it wasn’t. You would never betray your friends. But you also couldn’t sit there and watch Hans take his anger out on them.
The barrel of the gun met the underside of your chin, and you closed your eyes as you steeled yourself for the shot…
But it didn’t come. You dared to open your eyes, and you were met with Hans’ fiery gaze, his face dripping with sweat, a nasty snarl on his face.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t pull the trigger, Schlampe,” he growled.
You knew of a thousand reasons. You weren’t the rat; you were an asset to the team; you liked being alive. But Hans cared about none of those - all he wanted was to sate his anger.
“Do I get a last request?”
Hans’ eyes narrowed, then he chuckled darkly. “Perhaps,” he replied. “What is it?”
“Schlampe, you called me. I am no slut, Hans. No man here has touched me. No man has ever touched me.”
Hans laughed and turned to his men. “Do you hear that, boys? Die Schlampe wants to be fucked before she dies!”
The men laughed, far too many of them looking at you with hunger.
“I don’t want them!” you insisted as you stepped closer to Hans, the barrel of his gun digging deeper into your flesh. “I don’t even want to be fucked. What I want… is to suck your cock.”
As soon as the words left your lips, the men gathered went feral, cheering and whooping, shouting out words of encouragement to Hans. He, meanwhile, seemed merely amused.
After a pause, he grabbed you by the shoulder, spun you around, and marched you out of the room, gun pressed firmly against the small of your back. Wordlessly, he guided you through the house, leaving behind the wooting animals that called themselves men, and once he reached his bedroom, he pushed you inside and slammed the door shut behind him.
“Turn around slowly,” he said in a low, menacing voice, one that struck fear in most, but for you it only sent a rush of arousal through your body.
When finally you could see him again, Hans’ eyes were alight with danger, desire and anger. So long as that gun was trained on you, you knew any moment could be your last, even if your mouth was full of his cock - and, shit, you hoped it would be soon.
“So the little virgin wants to suck my cock, does she?”
He gestured at her body with his gun.
“Take those off. I don’t want any hidden tricks.”
Sure. That was why he wanted you to strip.
You pulled your t-shirt over your head, and Hans licked his lips when his gaze landed on your chest. Next you slipped off your shoes, then the rest of your clothing, leaving you in nothing but your bra and knickers.
Hans raised his eyebrows. “Did I tell you to stop?”
You had hoped to at least keep some of your dignity before your last meal, but this was Hans Gruber you were dealing with. He never did anything in halves.
You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your shoulders, then hooked your thumbs under your waistband to push your knickers to the floor.
And that was how you found yourself stark naked in Hans Gruber’s room, staring down the barrel of his gun, not daring to break eye contact with him, no matter how desperate you were to see if he was aroused.
“Show me your technique first, Schlampe. Open.”
You obeyed, and panic shot through your heart when the barrel of his gun - safety most definitely off - slid past your lips and threatened to choke you as it passed over your tongue and settled at the back of your mouth.
“Well?” Hans prompted. “I’m waiting.”
Of course he had a fucking gun kink.
You tried to ignore the metallic taste as you began to move your head back and forth, ever so slightly, trying not to get too close to the trigger. What a way to die this would be.
“Will you suck my cock with this little passion, Y/N? It is your last request, after all. You’re supposed to enjoy it.”
Bastard. Sadist. Psychopath.
You hadn’t been lying; you really hadn’t been with a man before. How were you supposed to show him your cocksucking technique on a gun when you had never even practised on the real thing?
You closed your eyes, hoping it would help you to pretend the barrel was a dick. You tightened your lips around it, telling yourself it was the most delicious thing you’d ever tasted, that it tasted like flesh and sweat, not metal and gunpowder…
You could hear Hans breathing heavily, alongside the sound of a belt unbuckling. You chanced a glimpse, and when you saw his other hand sliding under his waistband, you let you an involuntary moan.
He grinned, looking like a devil as he palmed himself under his boxers, finger far too close to the trigger of the loaded gun you were currently allowing him to fuck your mouth with. Because he was, he had taken over the movement, and while one hand rubbed up against his cock, the other pulled the gun from your mouth, only to send it back in violently, and you grunted with pain as the metal tip collided with the roof of your mouth.
“I could pull the trigger at any moment,” Hans said, speaking aloud the very fear that sat at the forefront of your mind. “You would die sucking my gun, wishing it was my cock, dead before you knew what was happening. How does that sound, Schlampe?”
Fuck. He was asking you a question, and still he was thrusting his gun into your mouth; you were sure he would leave a bruise.
Not that a bruised mouth would matter soon, once you were dead.
Hans suddenly pulled the gun from your mouth, switched on the safety and returned it to the holster on his hip. You gasped for air, glad to be free of the metallic taste and the imminent threat of your head exploding.
He placed his hand on your head and pushed down, forcing you to your knees as he pulled his cock from the confines of his boxers, and you couldn’t help but stare.
You always knew Hans had big dick energy. Now you knew he had the size to match.
“I will show you mercy,” he decided. “You’ll get my cock… and maybe I’ll blow your brains out with my cock down your throat.” He held his erect cock to your lips, and instinctively they parted to allow him in.
Fuck, he was big. Too big; you thought the gun might have been more comfortable. It may have been cold and metallic, and ready to blow your brains out at any moment, but at least you could breathe. As Hans pushed further past your lips and over your tongue, you felt the muscles in your jaw protesting as you stretched them out as far as they could go.
His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged. If Hans noticed, he didn’t care. Tears began to fill your eyes, and through your watery vision you could see that he was hardly even halfway in.
Hans grabbed either side of your head with his hands and tilted your head upwards, forcing you to look at him.
“So full, and I’m hardly even in,” he growled. “Now, are you going to just stare at me, Schlampe, or are you going to suck. my. fucking. cock?”
You decided to go with the latter.
You tried to pull your head back slightly, but Hans’ large, strong hand on the back of your head kept you in place.
What were you supposed to do? He wanted you to suck, but he clearly didn’t want you to move back. That only left forward, but you rather enjoyed breathing.
Ah, but you had another option - your tongue. At the moment, it was flattened uselessly under his cock, but perhaps you could - yes! You managed to loosen it slightly, just enough to allow it to slide along his shaft. You hadn’t realised before how veiny cocks were, but you certainly knew now as you traced a line along one that ran from the head, down the underside, and past your lips. Curious, you raised a hand to the rest of him and gently ran your thumb from your lip, tracing the vein all the way to the base, where it was lost in amongst his pubic hair, which was surprisingly coarse, much coarser than your own.
Somewhere above you, Hans hummed with satisfaction, and you hoped you were doing well. If you weren’t, you supposed you would know by the prod of a gun in your temple.
You stuck your tongue out as far as you could past your lips, then retracted it. You followed the movements of your own tongue with your lips, and you were relieved when Hans allowed you to do so, his hand on your head loosening its grip slightly as he allowed you to pull back until you felt his lip threatening to pass your lips. You were just about to go back in when Hans decided to take control of the situation - as if he weren’t in control already - and, twisting your hair in his hand tightly, he tugged your head back towards him. The movement was so sudden, so violent, that your gag reflex had no time to kick in, and this time you found your nose buried in his hairs, his thick cock gliding down your lubricated throat.
Before you had chance to adjust to your new position, Hans began to violently fuck your mouth - or, more accurately, he fucked himself with your mouth, as his hips were perfectly still, whilst his fist in your hair tossed your head back and forth, leaving you in a whirlwind of pain as he tugged on your scalp, choked you with his cock, and stretched your jaw beyond what you’d ever expected possible.
Your eyes flicked up, and through your streaming tears you could see him, staring down at you with a hungry snarl. Sweat began to drip down from your temple – whether from exhaustion or fear, you were unsure. You were terrified, you were in agony, you were suffocating… and you were undeniably turned on.
“Mhm… a perfect mouth for fucking,” Hans growled as he wiped a tear from your cheek before bringing it to his mouth and sucking it off his thumb as if it was the nectar of the gods. “Such a shame to waste it.”
Naively, a hope rose in your heart - perhaps, if you were good enough for him, he would spare your life after all, punish you by making you into his personal cockslave. It wasn’t exactly the life you craved, but it was life.
Suddenly, your lungs filled with air as you instinctively inhaled deeply, your body reacting before your mind had even the chance to process what had happened - his sudden withdrawal from your mouth, leaving you a simpering, drooling, gasping mess.
His hand still in your hair, Hans tugged you to your feet. You winced in pain, although you were glad to be breathing freely again.
Your heels had hardly touched the carpeted floor, however, when Hans threw you violently back. The pain in your scalp was replaced by pain in your calves as they collided with the bedframe just moments before your back hit the mattress, and you let out an oof as the air was forced from your lungs.
You gasped desperately, and once you were finally in a state to look up, you saw that Hans had removed his jacket and tie, and was in the process of removing his shoes. Even in his carnal state, he took the time to neatly fold his clothes. This gave you the chance to recover, however briefly, and you adjusted yourself on the bed, finding a more comfortable position with your head against the pillows.
You’d seen Hans’ body before - just last summer, a particularly lucrative job had allowed the gang enough funds to holiday in the south of France, and it was there, seeing Hans in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks, that you had developed an attraction to the man.
You had even seen his arse once, after a drinking game dare from Karl resulted in Hans mooning ein Polizist from a moving car.
And, of course, you had seen his cock just now. But you’d never before seen him completely naked – until now.
He crawled over you like a panther on a hunt, and you fully expected him to continue until his throbbing cock slid into your mouth so that he could fuck your head into the pillow.
Instead, he stopped as his hungry grin reached level with your own lips, and he ran his tongue along them testingly. You parted your lips obligingly, and he chuckled.
“Two years you’ve been with us now, Y/N,” he mused. “Two years that perfectly fuckable mouth has been in front of me and I did nothing. It’s only now, after you seal your fate, that your true talents are revealed. Pity.”
You were tempted to offer your mouth to him, to offer him every hole to be taken whenever he liked, so long as he kept you alive. But that would be begging, and Hans abhorred beggars. No, he had to come to the idea himself.
“How many other secrets are you keeping from me, Schlampe?” Hans growled. He shifted his weight back slightly and for the first time you realised he held his tie in his hand. He grabbed your wrists, crossed them over one another above your head, and used the tie to secure them to the headboard. Once satisfied with the tight knot, he began to run his hands down your body, starting from your face and down your neck towards your chest, as if challenging himself to touch every inch of your flesh before it turned cold.
He took your nipples between his fingers and twisted them harshly, eliciting a loud yelp from your throat.
“I asked you a question,” Hans said plainly. “How many secrets do you still keep?”
Was he seriously interrogating you right now? Was that what this whole thing was, just a way to torture information from you?
Information you didn’t have, because you weren’t the rat.
You had to draw his attention away, to remind him what a waste your death would be.
“Two,” you gasped as an idea struck your brain. “I have two more secrets.”
“Only two?”
You nodded, trying to suppress a whine as his fingers squeezed on your nipples again.
He surveyed you for a long moment, his amber eyes staring into yours, as if hoping he might find some hidden information in there.
“It would be a shame if your secrets died with you,” he growled. He sat up fully now, and his cock came back into view, still erect, throbbing and glistening in the light with a mixture of precum and your spit.
He let out a sigh of relief as he stroked himself, his eyes never leaving your squirming form beneath him. With his spare hand, he pushed open your legs, tugging on your hips to bring them close to him. You took the hint and wrapped your legs around his waist, presenting your soaking wet cunt to him.
“Will you tell me your secrets before you die, Y/N?”
“Yes,” you replied immediately, understanding his meaning.
“Good. I would hate to take the from you by force.”
You felt his cockhead pushing against your lower lips, then past them, then – it slipped inside, aided by your gushing juices.
Hans gave you no time to adjust. If he remembered you were a virgin, he didn’t care as he sheathed himself inside you, cock crawling up your tight walls, forcing them to stretch open for him.
You bit down on your bottom lip hard, trying to ignore the pain as he finally bottomed out. He barely gave your walls a chance to adjust to his size when he withdrew again, only to thrust forward again. He was nothing short of stabbing you with his cock, venting his anger at your apparent betrayal.
His thrusts picked up pace, and soon enough the pain had subsided, leaving only the pleasure.
And oh, what pleasure. Was this what you had been missing out on for so long? You had never dared make a move on Hans, never dared risk his anger if your proposal angered him. You wished you had made a move, that you had spent the better part of the last two years getting railed.
What a wish to make on your deathbed.
If you weren’t already busy moaning with pleasure, you might have laughed.
This was your deathbed, quite literally – and you were getting fucked into it like there was no tomorrow, because for you, there wasn’t.
Hans not only had a massive cock, but he had incredible stamina too. He pulled out, and you weren’t ashamed of the whine that left your throat when he did so, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. His cock was throbbing, almost twitching, and leaking so much precum it seemed as if he might cum just from a change in the wind.
He wouldn’t, though. Of course not. He was Hans Gruber, and he came only when he chose.
He made no clever pun about secrets now. He just took your hips in his large hands and turned you over, ignoring your grunt of pain as your wrists rubbed against your bonds.
He also ignored the veritable scream of pain you let out when he stretched open your arsecheeks and pushed inside your final hole, the last secret you hadn’t known you were keeping from him.
You sobbed into the pillow. You couldn’t help it. Although painful at first, his cock felt good in your cunt, the stretch painful but pleasurable too. This, however, was nothing but pain.
Any hopes you might have had of your own orgasm were now dashed. You felt nothing but pain as Hans stabbed into you again and again, and over your own sobs you heard him, growling and muttering something to himself under his breath.
“Dumme verdammte Schlampe,” you heard. “I’ll teach you - oh, I will fucking show you - you don’t - keep - secrets - from - me!”
He stilled suddenly, hilted deep inside your arse, and Hans let out nothing short of a roar.
Your head was dizzy, the world spinning, and you continued sobbing into the pillow as Hans finally withdrew. You couldn’t move, you just lay there on your front, covered in sweat, tears, and - although you couldn’t see to be sure - blood and cum leaking from both your holes. Even so, you missed Hans’ warmth when he moved away from the bed.
After a minute, water began to run from the bathroom. Five more minutes, and the water stopped. Some movement and shuffling of fabric. Still, you didn’t move, too stiff with pain.
You certainly didn’t move when you heard the cocking of a gun, and you felt the barrel pushing against the base of your skull.
“Any more secrets?”
Your hopes were dashed. He wasn’t going to spare you after all. No, he had just fucked you raw, and now he wanted what he had always wanted - the truth. To him, you were a rat, not to be trusted and certainly not to be spared.
The truth, you knew, would get you nowhere.
So you lied.
“Nein,” you mumbled, face still smushed against the pillow. You daren’t move.
Somewhere above you, Hans sighed.
“A shame,” he muttered.
It really was a shame. Those were nice bedsheets, ruined now with her blood…
…and her brains.
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horseshoegirl · 1 year
Text
Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 15 - Have You Ever Seen The Rain
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📖I need to make two apologies. First, I am so sorry for the long delay. While work was beating my ass, I actually received a rude comment on my Wattpad account for the last chapter that triggered a horrible writer's block. It was taken care of, and it didn't bother me at the time, but I didn't realize how much it affected me until I started to write. Then I decided to use it for inspiration!
Secondly, I'm so sorry for what is about to unfold. This one was planned from the get-go (which is also probably why I struggled because this is the one chapter I dreaded having to write).
(I'll be running from the pitchforks as they come, Woot Woot!)
❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, Mentions of an original child, Shitty family dynamics, Angst, verbal fights, sexist implications, one slap across the face, and Jake being Hangman.
#6k words
Part 14 | Masterlist | Part 16
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The story behind how you started ego-checking some of the cocksure pilots at Hard Deck is less interesting than one might think.
It all started with a game. 
You weren't kidding when you told Jake you were a library, loving geek who'd rather spend her time deep in the stacks. That was the plot of your entire post-secondary experience. You didn't know how to flirt. You stayed clear of frat parties and cliquey groups. And if a guy tried to flirt with you, you ran for the freaking hills without a backward glance.
You only decided to take that bartending job in building H's damp, dark basement because you were dead-ass broke. But the thing about being a bartender on a University campus, there were moments when you had nothing but time on your hands.
You had to get creative.
Looking back, you would blame the writer-orientated part of your mind that decided to create that little game of making up stories for the people who regularly visited the miserable bar.
The quiet girl, always sitting in the back corner, cramming for a test or writing a paper. Did she like the ambience, or was she avoiding the library? Or was she trying to work up the nerve to ask out one of the bussers, waiting for the perfect meet cute?
Maybe the nerds who gathered every Friday at the arcade-style game consoles playing Pac-Man needed to leave their dorm because Friday nights tended to be the one night everyone liked to party.
Those popular girls sitting around a table with their $5 cocktails, lowcut tanktops, and jean shorts, always on their phones gossiping over the latest social media post from their favourite celebrities. Did they have Regina George in their ranks? Which one was sleeping with the other's boyfriend? How much blackmail did they have on each other?
Which one would murder the other first?
That little game you invented for yourself got you out of your shell. It also made it easier to deal with the persistent football jocks who'd try to flirt with you for a free shot.
Ridley would always get a kick out of it whenever you told her. You'd always imagined her curling up in a ball and kicking her feet back and forth while she squealed in laughter over the phone.
"Be a character in one of your freaking stories. Or better yet, act it out! You're a damn writer, Lizzie."
She was right. So you did. 
You'd never forget the laughter of that football jock when your rejection of his flirting attempts to weasel a free drink out of you resulted in his childish reply of, "Well, nobody's perfect, Sweetheart, least of all you."
"I never said I was," you had said with a smile.
You must have said something right because a few minutes later, Penny was introducing herself and chatting you up, asking if you wanted a better job bartending.
You were all too happy to leave. But nothing could have prepared you for the hotshot, ego-driven, and stupidly horny Top Gun pilots who frequented the Hard Deck. 
Between remembering their drink order or what side of the room they tended to gravitate towards, you needed more than your little guessing game to figure out their tells. You did pick up little things about them, though.
The WSOs were the kindest; ironically, they stood out in the crowds. Always a kind smile, never a bad thing to say about anyone.
The female pilots were always badass. At least, you thought so. Strong. Always commandeering the room the second they walked in. Always nice, no question about it. But mess with them; you got schooled hard.
They were the literal definition behind the saying, 'Do no harm, but take no shit.'
And with each new group that came in, the male pilots, the single flyers you had called them, paled compared to those jocks. They never changed. A pair constantly vied for first place with each new group that came through the Top Gun program.
Always a pair of males. Women always knew there was more at stake than a freaking trophy.
Those guys talked to you. Well... properly flirted at you.
That's where your little game came in handy. Picking out the little things about them, letting your mind do the creative parts next. It's how you turned Jake down so quickly that first time.
But the guy currently approaching the bar? He did not fit the bill of any regular customer you had seen in a while.
Tourists came and went without question. They stood out like a pack of flies, unsure where to go, with friendly faces and always asking what the best places were. They tipped great, and they never returned.
This guy? 
Not a tourist.
He was from out of town. The plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots were unusual for a California bar. It was also how he gaped at the walls and ceiling, taking in all the Navy memorabilia Penny had collected over the years. If you hadn't been paying attention, you could have sworn there was a look of distaste on his face with each new item he saw.
But what irked you was the sense of familiarity you couldn't place while looking at him. Blonde hair and a sharp face. Something in how he carried that toothpick between his teeth, not in the way god forbid fucking Tyler had, but as if it was a piece of grass. Also, in the way he walked.
Then he openly leered at a woman's ass as she walked by, and it all made sense.
Ah, a Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mam.
He sat in the empty chair directly in front of you, still watching the women's retreating form. You didn't want to serve him, but a tiny part of you hoped your assumption had been wrong.
It had been a while since you had to rebuff flirty advances; the newer pilots going through the Top Gun Program hardly said anything to you except smile and relay their order.
You suspected Jake was behind it.
"What can I get you?" you smiled at the guy. He slowly pulled his eyes away with a sly grin. The second he caught sight of your face, his mouth stretched even wider as he leaned forward on the bar.
"Your number and the name of a good hotel."
You should have known better. 
If it looked like a duck, it quacked like a duck too.
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you straightened the line of shot glasses under the bar, not once looking up as you answered him. "Well, I can answer one out of two of those questions, but I'm afraid the only hotels around here are resorts. There is a bed and breakfast about ten minutes down the road that will give you a good deal."
"Will they give me a good deal if I mention your name?"
"Only my friends know my name, and you are simply a customer sitting at my bar wanting a drink?" you raised your eyebrow, tapping your finger against the bar.
He made a show of thinking about it, rocking his shoulders back and forth. He finally nodded, leaning forward to answer you.
"Whiskey. Straight."
You recognized his accent as you reached beneath the bar to grab the bottle. It was more pronounced and slightly more profound, but without a doubt, he sounded like Jake.
Good old southern Texas Charm.
Normally you'd engage in small talk, but you wanted nothing more than to leave this asshole alone. Thinking he'd leave it be after you poured him his drink, you slid the glass forward, then made your way over to the other side of the bar.
The words he called out after you made you stop in your tracks.
"You must get attention all the time. Having your pick of the litter each year."
You whipped around, offended. " Are you calling me easy?!"
He shrugged. "I'm just saying a good-looking woman like yourself, in this place... you clearly aren't sticking around because of the pay."
Oh, you wanted this guy gone. That could have been one of the most double-standard comments you had ever received. Old Liz would have sputtered, maybe run into the back fridge and asked one of the other bartenders to handle it.
You now? No chance in hell. If he were going to give it, you would give it right back. You weren't going to play the boyfriend card. You could fight your own battles, and something told you even if you told him you had a boyfriend, he'd think you were lying. He seemed like the type that wouldn't take no for an answer.
"You've got some nerve." You crossed your arms, matching back to him from the other side of the bar. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here because I'm looking for attention or have trouble finding a date. You've spent all of two minutes sitting at this bar, talking shit, while I've been fighting the urge to point out your confusion regarding basic anatomy." 
He raised his eyebrows at your reply. "My confusion?" 
You leaned forward, resting your arms upon the bar, eyeing him sourly. "Is your mouth your asshole, or are you just one?" 
It was one of the more cruder remarks you had ever responded with. But this guy was trying to go for gold. Unphased, he leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up. "Hey, no need to be aggressive. You should take it as a compliment. I never called you anything derogatory." 
You huffed, pushing yourself away from him, rolling your eyes. "Calling me good-looking, then proceeding to say I'm only working here because it's 'easy to access' is still calling a woman a slut. You don't need to say the word to imply the meaning." 
You ripped the dishrag from your shoulder, running it under the tap, muttering more to yourself, "There's no way that shit works on women."
"It does on the women back home," he answered you.
"Oh, so are you staying? Don't tell me you're a new pilot at Top Gun."
They'll beat that attitude right out of you.
"Oh, I'm just passing through. I figured I'd scout out the area. I heard this was a Navy bar. Don't understand what all the fuss is about." 
You didn't answer him. Opening your mouth only led to him replying, and the quicker he finished his drink, the faster he'd leave. He took your silence as a means to continue. 
"Still playing hard to get?" 
"You ask me a question. I might choose not to answer." 
"Wow. Subtle." 
You turned, a hand on your hip. "You can't honestly expect me to speak to you, a complete stranger, after the way you just undermined my job because I'm not giving to your attempts. There is nothing to get." 
He smiled, holding out his hand. "George Seresin. There, not a stranger."
Well, shit.
You wanted to hang your mouth open like a fish. You were staring down Jake's brother.
Now you understood Jake's reaction to Janet's warning. His anxious behaviour in the back of his truck. His lost-in-thought stares or the way he couldn't stop looking at you and Sadie when he came home from work this week.
George Seresin was a very unwelcome, uninvited and long-awaited guest.
Something snapped in your stomach, a twinge of weariness that Jake didn't confide in you. Then again, your slight disappointment was overshadowed by something greater.
Clearly, you were fated to ego-check both Seresin brothers while standing behind this bar. Because the idea came without warning, without doubt, or any sense of hesitancy. 
George Seresin was at the Hard Deck.
He was right in front of you, trying to flirt with you without any idea who you were. 
And he was sitting in the best spot in the entire place.
It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
You stepped backwards, turning to lean up against the bar. As you did with Jake all those months ago, you took the rag and started to wipe.
"So let me get this straight," you said, dragging the damp cloth around his glass, not once looking up. "I tell you my name in some effort to prove we are not strangers. I'm supposed to forget about your 'comments,' so you can use that good old Texas charm to woo me into your bed with a promise of a good time?"
You finally looked up, George only staring back at you with a heated smoulder.
"Something tells me none of those loose cannons cannot even promise you a good time. A quick roll in the sheets before they let some brass monkey in a fancy suit tell them where to shoot. You look like you could let loose for once in your life."
You froze, losing your grip on the rag and fingers twitching. Scanning Jake’s brother, you leaned against the bar, resting your weight on your elbows, throwing the fabric over your shoulder as you got inside his bubble. You never once broke eye contact as you pinned him down.
George bought it, hook, line and sinker. He was so focused on you and your face that he was oblivious to everything and everyone around him, including how your hand slowly reached up toward the rope hanging from the top of the bar.
The second he looked at your lips, you tugged.
Cheers and music flooded the Hard Deck when everyone heard the distinct ring of the barbell. You guessed the song right away, old habits dying hard.  Slow Ride, its distinct beat letting you know Jake was here and he had seen the whole thing.
George reeled back, shocked as a few people came up and slapped him on the back, thanking him. You laughed softly at his reaction, pushing yourself away to help the few customers you knew who would take advantage of the free drink.
You had never rang the bell for someone like him. George Seresin would be the only exception.
"What the hell just happened?" he called after you. You didn't bother turning around, flinging your hand to gesture over your head, "Read the sign!"
George followed the direction of your hand, landing on the piece of wood dangling by the silver chain.
You disrespect a lady, the navy, or you put your cell phone on the bar, you buy a round.
You had already helped a few customers when he managed to tear his eyes away to glare at you heatedly. You turned to face him with a gleeful grin. Instead of asking him which one he thought you rang him out for, you started teasingly singing along to the chorus.
You hadn't done that in a while. It felt good.
"What did he do to warrant that?" 
You smiled up at Jake as he approached the bar. He never took his eyes off you as he leaned on his elbow against the top of the bar beside George. 
"What do you think?" you laughed at him.
Jake smirked. "I'd say he didn't take no for an answer."
"He did a little more than that. Tell him to put his cell phone on the bar, and he'd get three out of three."
"Ouch," Jake dramatically drawled. He finally turned his head, nodding once in his brother's direction. "Hi, Georgie." 
You stiffed a giggle. 
George huffed, jutting his chin out in your direction. "This one is trouble."
"Don't I know it," Jake said, looking back at you. "Pulled the same trick on me the first time I met her. Only she didn't ring the bell. Guess I did something right, considering she let me come back."
George glanced between you and Jake several times, and you could see the gears grinding in his head. 
"Hi," you beamed at him, walking over and holding out your hand. "Elizabeth Beck. Your brother's girlfriend. I guess we aren't strangers after all."
George stared down at your hand, then gritting his teeth, knocking back another gulp of whiskey. He spat out his following words with the glass still to his lips, "So you are real. Jake, there's no way you're dating her."
 You didn't try to hide the snark from your voice as you lowered your hand. "You thought I was imaginary? Sorry to disappoint."
George still chose to ignore you. "What's the matter, little brother? Need your girlfriend to speak for you?"
Jake stiffened, and it took everything in you not to ring the bell once more. Cause you knew if you did, Jake would be the one to help throw George out, and you didn't know what repercussions he could face.
"At least he has a girlfriend," you scoffed. "I can't imagine you've ever had a meaningful relationship with how you treat women."
You spied his empty whiskey glass, grabbing it firmly.
"Wham."
Sliding it across the bar's smooth surface, you caught it in the palm of your other hand.
"Bam."
Reaching into the pocket of your apron with your free hand, you slapped his bill down in front of him, rounds and all, attempting your best version of a Texan accent.
"Thank you, Mam."
Not wanting to waste more time on him, you turned to Jake, slightly worried. Some of you didn't know how to act around Jake when he was like this. When he was so... Hangman.
You gently touched his wrist, murmuring softly, "I'll see you in a half hour?"
He twisted his arm in your grasp, sliding his hand down so he could gently squeeze yours. But his eyes screamed a different, intense, unsettling story. As if he was assessing you for any threat.
"Sure."
You tried not to let it bother you, his non-chalent reply. Trying not to frown, you let go of his wrist to serve another customer, calling out as you walked away, "It was nice meeting you, Georgie!"
Jake watched you go with a slight turn of his head, proud you one-upped his brother but wishing you didn't leave him alone.
He knew why George was here. What he wanted him to do. No amount of smirk, cockiness, or even Hangman, could save Jake from this. George was the grave reminder that no matter where the Navy sent him, whether in California or on the other side of the world, there was no end to the metaphorical leash the 'hell bringer' had on both of his sons. 
George scraped his chair back to stand. "Come on, little brother," he gruffed out, tossing his credit card onto the bar. "We need to have a chat."
—-
With Ridley's Jean jacket in hand and your bag, you placed them on the bar as you greeted Jimmy after finishing your shift. "Can you watch these for a second, Jimmy? I'm just going to the bathroom before I find Jake. We're going to pick Sadie up from Penny's and take her out for dinner."
The older man smiled. "She's feeling better?"
You nodded. "Mild concussion. She was okay after a few days and back at school. Bummed about not being able to play in soccer playoffs, though. Hence the trip."
"That girl loves her soccer. What a shame."
"Jake's is making it easier on her. I don't know what I would do without him."
He tilted his head towards the bathroom hall with a knowing grin. "Go get ready for your date."
You blushed, walking away, calling over your shoulder, "It's not a date!"
After freshening yourself up, you took a few moments to stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. You saw the famous callsign board hanging on the wall behind you. You scanned the names from the mirror, looking for Jake's, doing a double take when you couldn’t find it. You turned, properly facing the wall.  
Like the sign in the bar, it was a piece of wood with the words engraved into the top, “Ladies Beware: Navigate the Hard Deck with Care!” and underneath that, “Pilots who fly solo.” Several metal slots were glued to the surface, designed so she could easily slide plastic slate with a pilot’s callsign into place. 
You recognized a few, even Rooster's, though his was listed way further down, out of harm’s way. But Jake's was nowhere to be found. 
Then you realized - Penny had taken his name off.
She didn't do that for a lot of people. You could only recall one other instance when she removed a pilot's callsign from that board. She prided herself on it, so much so she never removed Maverick's at the top of the list, even after they got back together.
You needed to tell Jake. 
With a hint of a smile, you eagerly walked out of the bathroom to find him. He was standing with George at the pool table, the elder Seresin brother lining up a shot as he spoke. As you approached them, you honed in on Jake, realizing he looked uncomfortable. Stiff, shoulders square, and his fists were clenched tight.
The closer you got, the more you heard of their conversation, and when you heard Sadie's name fall from George's mouth, you froze. Hearing him utter her name, especially in that hardened tone, was a punch to the gut. The urge to hide behind one of the support pillars in the middle of the room at the last second was too great to ignore, and you made yourself as small as possible. 
You had stumbled upon a conversation you weren’t supposed to hear. George’s voice accompanied the sound of the eight-ball scattering the balls across the table. 
"Come on, man," he said, his tone laced with arrogance. "Think about it. She threw her whole life away for her niece. She's tied down now, and you deserve someone who can give you more than that."
Jake remained silent. George continued, encouraged by his lack of protest. "You're a Navy pilot, for crying out loud. You could have anyone you want. Why settle for a girl with so much baggage?"
You weren’t stupid. You knew enough about George to realize he was the golden child, the favourite used to getting his way. George would only see you as Jake’s attempt to one-up him on something. 
“You know why I'm here,” you heard him say firmly. “Dad doesn’t approve. He wants you to know if you continue on with her, you will never be welcomed back home.”
You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your stomach. There would never be a time when you asked Jake to choose you over his family, even with what you knew. You wanted to go out there, but this was Jake’s battle. Storming out to threaten anything but a kick to the balls was out of the question. 
But when Jake finally spoke, his words were like shards of ice piercing your skin.
"Yeah, you're right."
A strangled noise escaped from you, a sound of raw pain and disbelief. You clapped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sob threatening to escape. George’s reply triggered the blood rushing through your ears, the pain in your forearm from your nails biting hard into the skin. 
“You know I am,” he laughed, another clack of the pool balls sounding out. “
There was only one way you saw this - Jake played you like he played those other bartenders. 
You couldn’t hide any longer. You pushed yourself away from the pillar, swerving around to confront them. 
“So Sadie and I were just a game to you?” 
Jake turned sharply, shock in his eyes. “Liz,” he held his hands out in front of him. “It’s not what…” 
“Not what?” you said heatedly, tears streaming from your eyes. “I heard plenty!” 
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, confronted with your beat red face and tears. You were not supposed to hear all that. 
The shock on his face was not enough to erase the sting of his words.
"Come on, Liz. You don't understand... it's..."
"What's there to understand, Jake?" you interjected, your voice seething with a volatile mix of pain and anger. "That I'm just another one of your bartenders?"
“Liz, don’t.” 
“Enlighten me, Jake.” You crossed your arms. “Tell me all the reasons why. That bringing me flowers wasn’t a game. That getting close to my niece wasn’t a game. Asking me to give you a chance, taking me out on a date.”
 You sobbed. “Taking me up in that damn plane.” 
The thought was erupt, tearing itself from the deepest part of your mind. You couldn’t help it, the words spilling out in blinded anger. “Was my grief an opportunity for you to get into my pants? Telling me it would be alright so you could leave me high and dry? Telling me it was going to be okay?” 
There was a sudden shift in his expression, his gaze hardening. As if a switch had been flipped, the warm, understanding man you knew disappeared, replaced by a stranger draped in defensiveness and sarcasm.
"Oh, excuse me," he declared. "I didn't realize I was your knight in shining armour, rushing to your rescue the second you need all your problems fixed. The girl who never had a relationship, thinking a man would solve all her issues."
The words hit you like a physical blow, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. Jake's harsh gaze didn't match his usual soft and protective demeanour. It was like looking at a stranger, someone you didn't recognize. The man before you was not the Jake you'd fallen for.
This man reminded you of your father. 
Was this his plan all along? You racked your mind, searching for any indication this had been coming. But what only stood out was Rooster's words echoing in your head where you found none. 
Did you really only add your name to the list of women Hangman had pursued?
Because here and now, those months of working through the trauma of losing Ridley didn't matter. 
Was anything about this past year even worth it? The moments you worked through when you would avoid anyone mentioning her because acknowledging her in the past tense was too much. Avoiding the things that reminded you of her. Till helped you through it.  
She would know what to say right now. She would be the one beating his ass with verbiage and scathing remarks. She would nail the moment and get it right. 
It hit you, the hidden weight of how desperately you missed her. 
Suddenly, you were that girl again, starting her first shift in that basement bar, wondering what to say to the students who saw you as a mere bookworm with no character or class - because you couldn't compare to the girl sitting in the corner writing her paper, actually having the courage to ask that busboy out. 
Or the geeks in the corner cheering as hard as they did when they beat their high score on the console, uncaring of strange looks. Or that girl, finally standing up to her 'so-called friends' when one had been spreading rumours and crude remarks about her to the others behind her back. 
He really did leave you out to dry. 
"Stay the fuck away from my niece," you managed to gasp through your tears. "And stay the fuck away from me."
You wanted to believe your assumption that Jake was merely putting on a front. Hangman, his alternate self, was his attempt at protecting himself. 
You had a hard time doing so.
There, plain as day, across his face was the most condensing grin you had ever seen as he dramatically drawled out slowly, "No fucking problem, sweetheart."
You didn't believe in thinking about everything you regretted throughout your life. Ridley was the only exception; if you had done more, moved back home after school, or gone to the police the day you kicked Tyler out, maybe she'd still be here. You couldn't change what had happened in your life, so spending time thinking about it in the present wouldn't do you much good. 
So it was no surprise to you when you followed through with your knee-deep reaction, your hand coming up out of nowhere, open and firm, slapping Jake hard enough across the side of his face, his head turning with the force of it.
You knew you shouldn't have. You weren't a violent person by any means. Next to Tyler, you never had raised a hand to anyone. You were too hurt to care you just slapped him.
That should have scared you shitless.
Rather than voice the obvious, you remained silent, allowing every repressed thought, every buried emotion to resurface.
Ridley - dead. 
Sadie - hurt. 
Tyler - lurking. 
Bradley - damaging.
It was all too much.
George's figure stood out from behind Jake amongst your blurry vision, tears creating a vignette in your line of sight. You tore past Jake, sticking your finger out only to push George square in his chest. He stepped back at the force, hand shooting out to balance himself against the pool table.
Jake wouldn't have done that had George not shown up. Had he not played with Jake's emotions.
"You need a fucking ego check and to grow the fuck up," you seethed at him. "I don't know whose got your balls on a very tight leash, but you have no right to go around and fucking up other people's relationships."
George didn't answer you, taking his hand off the table to stand properly. You pressed him again. "Does it give you some sick fucking pleasure to hurt your brother? Dad loves me best, so I'm going to remind everyone just cause I can?"
George was still avoiding your heated glare, fixating on his football ring, twisting the piece of metal back and forth. It only pissed you off further.
"My eyes are over here, Jackass! Have the decency to look me in the fucking eyes when I'm talking to you."
If nobody had been watching when you slapped Jake, you clearly had their attention now. Even with the music blasting from the speakers, every conversation in the Hard deck had gone quiet. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, but you couldn't care less.
You were too far gone.
George slowly cocked his head to face you. Your breath was harsh, your body jolting with each gasp as you gave in to the anger. "My sister died, and I took in my niece. What's so fucking wrong about that? That I threw my life away, that I have no future?" 
He shifted on his feet, about to transfer the pool stick into his other hand, when you reached out and snatched it out of his grasp, tossing it behind you with a clack. 
"You're damn right I did! That's what you do for people you love. I would sacrifice my entire life so she could have hers. And I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat. I will stay on the other side of that bar for the rest of my so-called miserable life, getting catcalled and dealing with assholes like you if it gives her the best shot with the shitty hand she's dealt. You, George Seresin, have no right to judge the choices I've made in my life." 
Your breathing was harsh, ribs aching with effort. Every vein, every pore, was consumed with pure white rage. And yet, you still found yourself growling out, "You have no right judging your brothers either." 
Even after breaking your heart, you still stood up for Jake. 
"He risks his life every single time he goes up in that jet just so the whole world can fucking survive. So you can go on day in and day out and let your father control what you want to do with your life. So you can gallant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours? So Jake’s here for you to bully and control every time he comes home? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The burning sensation in your cheeks mirrored the fire in your eyes, unshed tears making them shine brighter. The salty sting of tears blurring your vision did little to diminish the searing gaze you levelled at George.
"My sister believed everyone deserved a chance. That people cared, regardless of what they did or who they were. I had forgotten that until my niece invited Jake to a barbeque, till she invited him on a hike because he was being treated differently. Despite what I heard and everyone telling me otherwise, listing off why I shouldn’t. That he will hurt me and my niece, and I still gave him a chance.”  
Squaring your shoulders and balling your hands to fists at your side, you take a step forward, a dangerous glint in your eyes. You lean towards him, your face close enough to feel his breath, your jaw clenched and muscles tight.  
"You are the first person ever to prove my sister wrong,” your voice is dangerously low, underlying anger accompanying each word. “You sure as hell don't deserve that sentiment." 
As you stepped away, George lifted his head to glance around the room, everyone's eyes pinning him down. The older Top Gun instructors had stood at their tables and chairs, arms crossed. Some of the current students in the program also stood, the others sending him the most scathing glares they could manage. Even some regulars who weren't aviators were casting him a scornful glance.
You spun, ready to leave him in embarrassment and escape this literal fucking mess, when you caught Jake's bewildered gaze, his mouth hanging open in slight shock.
You weren't sure whether it was that look or the dying embers of your outburst that made you spin back around to snarl, "So, leave your brother the fuck alone! Live your own goddamn life without judging others for the choices they make! Cause you sure as hell don't know what it means to sacrifice something for those you love. If you need an example, look around this goddamn room."
Jake reached for your wrist as you charged toward the front door. The second you felt his touch, you shook your hand loose, a wrenching sob tearing through your chest.
"Don't fucking touch me!"
You didn't bother seeing his reaction to your remark, rushing to grab your bag and Ridley's jean jacket off the bar.
The skin around your wrist burned from his touch, the rough callouses once a comfort but now felt like coarse sandpaper. You wanted to get under a shower or jump in the sea, hoping to remove the feeling of every memory, kiss, and word.
God, you let him touch you. Do things with you.
You were going to throw up.
God forbid you didn't want to walk home. But you needed to go, be anywhere but here, and you didn't have your car. Barely keeping it together as you took off toward the door, you had half a mind to look up to watch where you were going, deaf to Jake's shouts of your name.
There was Bradley, sitting in the first booth by the door. His brow furrowed as you made your way over to him, probably having witnessed the ordeal. You were too upset even to question why he wasn't marching across the bar, ready to knock Jake to next Sunday.
It had been weeks since the fight, with no communication in between. But it was a distant memory compared to this. 
It didn't matter what he implied. It didn't matter what happened in your hallway.
It didn't matter.
It didn't matter.
It didn't matter.
You just needed your friend.
With each step you took toward him, your shame only grew greater. You couldn't even look him in the eye when you stopped, standing next to his side of the booth, hugging yourself tighter.
"Can you take me home, Bradley? I don't want to be here anymore."
Bradley's opportunity to act smug had finally arrived. But he didn't do anything other than frown. Standing up from his booth, he threw a few bills onto the table before blocking everyone's view of you. He placed a comforting hand on your back, gently pressing you forward as he uttered quietly, "Of course I can, Liz."
You kept your head down as you stepped towards the door, but Bradley, so willing to help you without so much of an 'I told you so,' made whatever resolve you had, crumble. Your knees wobbled, and your heart dropped into your stomach. You fell, and Bradley's arm whipped out, gripping your hip and pulling you tight to his side to support your weight.
Burying your head into Bradley's shoulder, you hid your face. You didn't want to see the looks of everyone in the Hard Deck, whether pity, concern, or applause, as another wave of tears wrecked your body.
Closing your eyes seemed better than reliving the truth.
And because you kept them shut, you didn't see George place a hand on Jake's shoulder, preventing him from going after you. Nor did you see the look of devastation wreck his face; the weight of every wrong decision he had ever made coming back to haunt him. 
Whether Jake turned on a dime to punch George square in the jaw, you heard none of it. You hadn't even bothered to turn back to look as Bradley carried you out the front door.
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.... So... Who is going to pitchfork me first? 👀
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Part 16 - In the Blood coming soon
Wickett ;)
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S E 7 E N : B E E Z L E B U B P A R T 2 W O
M A S T E R L I S T
wooot woot! part 2, final part of this chapter! lets gooooo!
Warnings: SMUT/MDNI18+, death, bible references, angels and demons, religious references, demons displaying powers an abilities, demons killing humans (bad ones though), mentions of greed and lust, mentions of murdering children and raping women (historical references) there is a little poem that i made up of how Jay introduces his real identity to the cult membrs and reader, just adding that in case you are touchy with the subject of religion.
Your heart plumets to the ground as the mentioning of ‘angels’ and ‘sinner’ emerged from a random voice in the crowd afar, forgetting that you have seven full days, you nearly were scared half to death as for a moment, you thought the voice was referring to you.
Feeling your body tremble at the man’s words, Jay locked you in his embrace tightly, while glaring at the moving crowd afar.
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Maneuvering you away from the crowd, into a secluded spot at the Azalea Garden, located at the entrance of the nature trails, he nearly had you levitating off the ground as he lifted you with his arms bear hugging you. He moved you with ease as he took you away from where the voices could be heard strongly, of people talking about the event that was to occur for whomever was the selected.
A stone bench perfectly placed in the center of a small open area, surrounded by bushes of azaleas in full bloom. The distant voices of the crowd was faint, but still could be heard.
You began to sob as Jay lays you on your back against the bench, propping your legs up as he kneels beside you.
“Hey, shhhh…its okay. Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here, remember? It’s okay.”
Calming your nerves, he strokes your cheek as you lay facing him, grabbing onto the front of his vest.
“Its okay angel…I promise, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Neither are my brothers, especially Heeseung.”
Leaning in, he kisses you ever so tenderly.
Whimpering slightly into his kiss, you feel just a little bit of his tongue peeking into your mouth as he takes the kiss into a passionate level.
“Do you remember the deal you made with him?” he asks as he takes a faint break from the kiss, cupping your ears into his hands as he strokes through your hair. “Do you remember, angel?”
“….mmm…..mmhmm.” you softly hummed as you nodded, the tears still glazing your eyes, making them sparkle like diamonds.
“what do you remember about it? Can you tell me?” he asks.
You shifted your gaze slightly and thought back. That’s when Helel’s voice echoed into your brain once more.
‘Good….next…my brothers…when you meet them…before they take on and help….you’re going to need to….do an exchange….and I promise…they’ll take care of everything….does that make sense? Pretty?’
Slightly gasping, you spoke out nearly in a whisper.
“….there was something…about meeting you and the rest of his brothers….and doing an exchange…and that you’d all take care of everything.” You stuttered out as you shift your gaze around, trying to remember correctly as you were in a state of intense euphoria the moment you made that deal with him.
“That’s right….that’s right girly. We’re going to take care of everything.” Kissing you once more, he continues to speak in between pecks.
“You belong to Heeseung…you’re his queen..his goddess….with that being said, no matter how much we want to…no matter how otherworldly we find you….there is a fine line we can’t cross. So just appreciate what were allowed to give you, and don’t ask for any more than that. I promise…you’ll get it…from him…when its time to bring you home. Does that make sense, angel?” he kisses you as you nod.
“mmm…uh huh.” You issued out.
Whispering against your lips, he tells you “good girl…” as you felt his hand reach down into your skirt.
With his lips pressed firmly against yours, you felt the arching rise of your back as he hooks your panties off to the side and begins to massage your clit with his lengthy and soft fingers.
“Uuuugh!...mmmmm….” you started to moan out uncontrollably while your gut trembles as you raised your head slightly from the amount of pleasure that was hitting you.
“….Ugh…wh-what….”
Kissing your ear, he inquires your words. “What is it angel? Tell me.”
“wh…what about…the angels-ugh!” your voice nearly cuts out as you feel him insert his finger inside you.
“what angels? The only angel I see is the one right below me.” He states as his kneeling state allowed him to remain hovering over you  while kissing your lips.
“Besides, i’ll take care of those idiots as soon as I’m done with you…don’t worry. I promise to take care of everything, didn’t I? pretty angel?”
Your moans came out shaky as he inserts another finger.
“Shhhh..yeeeeeeeeah……that’s our girl….moan out….come on…..moan some more.”
‘That’s our girl….’
You’re still unsure exactly what you are to these men, yet you didn’t care. The moment he injected a third finger, you felt your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you slightly drooled out. His pace started out slow and deep, then transitioned to a quickened pace as he planted kisses all over your neck, your jaw, your lips, your cheeks, and your cleavage.
Reaching both your arms up, taking a bend at each elbow, you plastered your palms on the bench above your head as your body continues to take on a deep arch, enforcing your head to tilt much farther back. You needed your hands reaching above to help support you as you felt your shoulder blades lifting off the stone seating.
“Oh!....Oh my God!!....mmmmmm” biting your lip, your hips started to move in waves as he injects another finger. His whole hand nearly fucking you, admitting a tight fit.
“Yeah…come on baby, keep moaning. There’s nothing better than the sound of a horny angel. Its better than the scream of a guitar.”
Thrusting his fingers in a deep and jolting motion, you felt your body shift up each time he goes in.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ugh! Ugh! My God!”
“Keep screaming.”
“Mmmmmm….fuck!”
“Say my name.”
“J…Jay!!”
“Gooooooood giiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrllllll…” his growl triggered the memory of Helel’s tone as he issued the same praise to you.
‘Good giiiiiirrrrrlllll.’
Fucking you with his fingers, the spread of each extremity inside you had put you on cloud nine as he began to scissor you. He wasn’t widening our core, instead, the motions of his fingers spreading and closing massaged your walls as he hooked, rubbed, tapped, and slightly pushed as he thrusted them in and out. The warmth of his skin, much like when he had rubbed your feet, had warmed your inner flesh as you felt the strokes of his soft skin going in and out of your entrance. It was like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It was deep, passionate, peaked to a level of height that topped any mountain. It was everything. So much, you could feel the color red.
Within his kiss, he bites down on our lip.
“Ready for a little bit of pain?”
Wincing your eyes out of the prime state of pleasure, you nodded. The moment you do, he inserts another finger, and the stretch burned you.
“Ugh! It hurts! It hurts!” you whined as the mixture of pleasure and pain stained you with hysterical sensuality as your body jolts, arches, and rolls into waves.
“You know what they say, ‘love hurts’, but in our case, it feels amazing.” He issues out as he injects his tongue inside your mouth, smacking his lips against yours as he admits a deep and passionate kiss.
Speeding up the pace of his thrusts, he goes faster…deeper….and finally…
“Oh! Ugh! Oh my God!! I’m-I’m gonna cu-cum!!”
Grabbing on to his wrist as he thrusted, you felt yourself oozing out as the squelching sound of skin to skin contact, rubbing, as he draws out the liquid your walls produced, and thrusts it back in.
“Good girl.” He whispers as he kisses you, his free hand caressing your breasts as he extends his thumb to stroke your collar bone.
Removing his hand from our entrance, covered in the shiny essence of your body’s natural lubricant, he reaches up and sticks two of his fingers inside your mouth, over towards one inner corner.
Watching as your tongue licks, your mouth slurps, and your cheeks coated with the taste of you, he leans down, keeping his fingers inside, he joins in as he kisses you, deeply. His tongue, along with yours, cleans each one of his fingers as he takes in the delight of feeling the softness of the inside of your cheek.
With deep breaths, you were barely recollecting your composure as he taps your stomach and chuckles.
“This…is going to be filled up when Heeseung gets to you…you know that right?” he smirks in a mischievous manner. “So these next six days, we’re going to help you get ready…take it as a method of preparation.”
You slightly gave a look of confusion as you were still recovering, your body still waving slightly and your hips rolling as you could still feel the throbbing pleasure from your orgasm.
“…p-preparations?” you inquired tiresomely.
“uh-huh…women…especially humans, wouldn’t be able to withstand his vigor….did he mention that to you?”
Your eyes shifted away as you pondered. Reflecting back once more to the moment you were with Helel, you recalled when he flipped you under him, and you whimpered out his name, to which he bit his lip harshly and grew wide eyed…almost as if he was about to snap out of intense desire.
‘Fuck babe…don’t do that..not yet…you’re going to make me lose control. Can’t do that…..not yet…that’ll hurt…trust me.’
Jay could tell by the look on your face that you had thought of something at his inquiry.
“He did, didn’t he?” he smirks.
Looking back up at him, your alluring gaze transitioned to an innocent one, Jay continued with a slight mocking tune in his voice.
“The only way he can have you…is through us helping. We’re glad to do it…. especially for someone pretty as you.” he winks. Maybe it was your vision recovering from the euphoric blur, or maybe it was the pleasurable tears that burned your eyes as they dried, but for a quick second, you thought you saw his dark eyes turn red…bright red. Yet….they are black now….
Standing up, he extends his hand to you and aids you up. His hand wrapped around your waist as he guides you back into the main street of the city.
“wh-where are we-“
“I told you, I’d take care of everything, right?” he kisses you as he leads the walk.
Reaching the sight of a large crowd, he scoffs out. “Huh…make it any more obvious why don’t you?”
You tilt your head slightly as you inquired what he meant, to which he shook his head and kissed you. “Nothing angel, I’m just being a dick. Truth be told, humans annoy me. But you….you’re an exception.”
Just as he gazed into your eyes with a soft smile upon issuing out his words, a voice from behind you calls out your name.
“Its you! Its her! I found her! Y/N!!”
Looking behind, you see figures of the Voia Domnului walking over towards you and judging by their attire and the badges they had, they were high profiled members of the cult.
“You!” one of the members stabs out. “The Senator will see you now!”
Clutching on to Jay’s vest, you felt his wrap around your waist tightened as he reaches up and pressing on the back of your head, he gently notions for you to cover your eyes as he presses your face against his skin.
Whispering, he speaks only loud enough for you to hear under his breath.
“Don’t worry….we’re not going to let aaaaaaaanything happen to you, pretty angel.”
Nodding, you hugged his frame as he tightens his embrace with his strong and lithe arms.
“Who are you? Give that woman to us right now! She has caused great offenses to the Senator, anyone aiding her will be subjected to an equal or greater punishment in the name of God!”
Scoffing, you feel the vibration as Jay spoke in a clear, loud, yet calm voice.
“Huh….name of God eh?” Laughing, your head bounces lightly along with his chest as he chuckles.
“Aw….you idiots sure are something else….no matter how old your kind gets, you all will just be as dumb as you were when the world was born.”
You could hear as the figures behind start to lash out violently as Jay continued with his series of insults.
“Tell me, did ‘God’ asked you to form this stupid cult of yours? Did ‘God’ personally ask you to murder your own kind in his name? Huh? Do you even know what he desires? What he wants the most? What he likes? What his fucking face looks like?....huh?....Do you?” Jay continues to calmly antagonize the group, which judging by the sound of the numerous footsteps, sounded like at least 10 or 15.
“Let me tell you fucktards something…” Jay pauses as he chuckles. “God…doesn’t have his name in anything that you do….the ‘name of God’ is such a fucking hoax…you people use it against each other to abuse and torment one another. You use it to hide your flaws, your sins, your crimes…you use it to hide men who rape women and murder children.”
You could tell at the last bit of his sentence; his voice grew deeper with a growl and snarl. It remained as such when he finished his anecdote.
“God….wants nothing more than for you people to develop your own peace, prosperity, mind, and soul, without the sense of corruption and greed tainting it…and yet here you idiots stand….doing the exact opposite of what he desires….all in the sake of his supposed name…what a fucking joke.”
“A non-believer!! Grab him along with that stupid bitch!” one of the figures issues out as he commands a line of cult members to make their way towards you and Jay.
Tightening his arms around your waist, he asks you.
“Angel…you’re soft, beautiful, and full of light….but I also know you have a little bit of a darker side in you…you all do. But yours is the most beautiful and the sweetest…and it fits our type….”
Looking up at him, your eyes widened at his statement, which he continued to elaborate as he cupped your cheek.
“You are…don’t tell me your not…because if you truly weren’t….you wouldn’t have made that deal with Heeseung.” He smirks.
“I’m only telling you this, because I’m about to give you an option….”
Looking deep into his eyes as the cult members come in closer and closer, he tells you.
“If you don’t want to watch, you don’t have to. You can close your eyes and lay yourself against me, and I’ll make sure you don’t see it…but…..if you’ll allow that darkness to come out a bit….if you’re willing to allow yourself be half darkness and half-light, then….I’ll ask you….do you want to witness this? Do you want to know who I am? Do you still want to know my real name?”
His eyes pulled you deeply as he caressed your cheek.
‘Half darkness….half light….’
With everything that has happened, you thought of Lily, all the children that were selected to die, how the world had changed, how everything was taken away from the people, from you, and what happened that night with Forras….with everything that you went through with Jay….and Helel….you made your choice and knew that it was the right one.
“….I do….” You softly speak out. In response, Jay smiles as he kisses you….hard. So hard, it hurt….and you could tell, it was all out of happiness on his part.
“Awww!! Our fucking girl!!” he looks over at the members, who paused their steps at the escalated volume of his enthusiastic voice. “Isn’t she so fucking perfect? Huh? It’s almost like she was meant to be with us! With him! His fucking bride of beauty and torture! What a fucking doll!
He laughed and yelled out his words, entirely too happy and yet, you were pleased to see him this way, though your expression was blank. Somehow, seeing him praise you and claiming you as the bride of his brother, it made you feel like you belonged….which was a feeling you had bee stripped of for a long time now.
Releasing you, he motions you to stand by and watch with a smile as he gently tucks you in behind him, approaching the numerous cult members that surrounded you both.
The lead cult member, looking rather un-amused, crosses his arms as he calmly issues the command “Get him, and bring that filthy whore to me.”
Watching as they took out a series of batons, handcuffs, knives, and even guns, for a moment you felt fearful for Jay’s safety as not only was he greatly outnumbered, but also lacked any weapons to protect himself.
Spreading his arms wide, he speaks in a raging voice as he cursed the cult members.
“Oh! You idiots want to bear your fucking pitiful weapons at me? Huh….okay, go ahead. Since I got oh..i don’t know, two minutes before that puppet comes out to carry out your deeds…that gives me some time to play with you all….in fact…it’s more than enough time….two minutes is a fucking lifetime…I’ve got all the time in the world right now.” He tilts his chin down and with a dark glare, his eyes beamed red before going jet black, to include the sclera.
With a simple set of words, you witnessed the unimaginable.
“Come on.”
…………
In a blink of an eye, a massive swarm of insects ascend from above and targets each cult member. You watch as the excruciating and gruesome manner of the fly’s’ feasts on their bodies inside and out. Entering through eyes, nose, mouth, and open wounds, the flies would nest themselves within their flesh. Maggots would suddenly emerge from their torn and eaten flesh as the skin on their bodies would stretch out and gape apart. It was a horrible sight, and for a moment, you regretted your decision in telling him you wanted to watch. That was when he spoke out and starlted you out of your shockingly fearful state. His voice pitched with loud volume, he spoke out the poetic introduction, revealing his true identity for the world to hear...
“I do pray…that ye have ol faith.
For that someday...
Your soul shall be only, for ye Lord to take.
 Yet if it comes to pass,
that ye shall commit his crimes against the innocent, youth, and virgin daughters…
Know that I, Beezlebub, Prince of Demons, Lord of the Flies,
shall cast the demons, and bring forth your rightful slaughter. “
Your mouth gaped as he versed out the meaning behind his name...his identity...his true self. As you continued to witness his great power, you whispered to yourself…
“Beezelbub….”
Even though you spoke in soft and airy breath, you watched as he turned his face, greeting you with his side profile as he smiles, winking upon hearing you say his true name.
It happened as swift as they came, the insects continued to feast on the carcasses of the offenders that lay, stripped of their blood, the elasticity of their skin, and the plump flesh that coated their bones. Soon, there was nothing but ash that became dust in the wind.
Just as you thought that he was finished, you stood up and walked over to him as his back still remained facing you. The flies remained surrounding you both as you were heavily guarded…but from what?
“J-Jay?”
“Hold on angel…got one more.” He looks over to the side. As you turned to face the direction of his view, you saw it…it was coming in like a meteorite, heading straight into the city.
‘The angels….’
The crowd could be heard hysterically yelling as they closed their windows, shut their doors, and hid in the comfort of their own homes and establishments while a single woman on her knees, remains stationary as she sobs, her untimely death breaching…or so she thought.
The moment the ‘angel’ crashes down, crumbling the pavement beneath it’s strong form, it continues to break the concrete as it takes its steps.
“Hey there…long time no see.” Jay calmly issues out, catching the attention of the angel as it’s faceless form peers over in his direction, losing focus at the selected woman before it.
With a screeching shriek that filled the air, the humanoid creature, made to look of liquid metal, takes on a stance to attack as its arms morphs into sharp blades…multiple blades in fact.
The shrieks it made pierced your ears, and it was the first time you ever heard them make any sound, for normally when they arrived to carry out the death sentence, they remained silent. Only the screams of the selected could be heard…normally….but not this time.
Leaping from a thousand, maybe even a few thousand feet away, the creature heads directly for you and Jay, to which the latter calmly, almost as if hew as amused and having fun with the event, grabs hold of your waist and nearly transports you out of the way.
‘W-what…did he just….fly?.....or teleport?.....we moved but…it was so fast…he moved me over a hundred feet in a blink of an eye…’
“Wait here, angel.” He remarks. Immediately as he issued his words to you, the creature from behind shrieks once more, as if it was responding to Jay.
“I wasn’t talking about you, dumbass! You’re not angel, she is! Fucking Hell…”  
He turns away as he squeezes your hand one last time and smoothly makes his way over to the creature.
“Does your fucking master know what you’ve been doing?...I bet he doooooooessnnnt.” Jay teases as he crosses his arms.
“I wonder what he would make of all this….this entire fucking atrocity that you and your fellow guardians are making….you know, it’s not unlikely for us to make deals with humans, but for you…..for you that reside within his kingdom….that’s against the rules, no?” Jay smirks.
The creature continues to screech harsly, and hysterically as it morphs into a new form, one that you or anyone hadn’t seen before. It grew larger, its slender form turned bulkier as the muscle definition was comparable to a large wrestler or a football player even.
“Oh ho! What’s this? Did I struck a nerve?” Jay continues to mock the creature. “Well, I hate to break it to you youngster, buuuuuuut….i’m much older than you…also…you’re forgetting the fact that me and my brothers, were the first ones….we know all the tricks of the trade. You all that came after us, are nothing but generic copies of the old breed, and you lack the originality that we were born with.”
The creature pounces towards Jay, yet he deflected by merely transitioning to a different spot, again, within a blink of an eye, the man nearly transported as he shifted from one spot to another. Up until now, you had thought that the ‘angels’ had been swift, cunning, and deadly in their movements, yet Jay’s motions made the creature looked lazy in its deliverance of physical force.
With a swing of its arm, filled with all types of motorized, imitated blades and saws, Jay simply catches the bare part of the arm with one hand.
Smirking, he merely issues the creatures final words.
“Hmm….looks like its time for you to go to Hell, I’ll make sure to let Niki know to take veeeeery good care of you once you meet him at the River Styx.”
With that, the sky, which was bright under a white layer of clouds and hollowed by the rays of the sun, turned dark. You could hear the cries and murmers of everyone that peeked their heads out, watching as a single man took on the creature with such ease.
Looking up, the darkness that plagued the sky…it was moving….
‘More flies?’
 Looking at Jay, he peeks a wink at you, and chuckles as he speaks in our direction “Yeah…that’s right pretty angel…more flies.”
Just as the flies did away with the cult members, you watched as the entire sky re-lit the moment all the insects gathered and aimed for the creature in Jay’s grasp. It happened so quick…and so quietly…for in a short few seconds, the flies disbursed and scattered into the air, and the angel….was gone.
Walking over to you, Jay reaches and pulls you in for a tight embrace. “Lets take you home, angel.”
Now that you knew who he was, he wasted no time in getting you back as he grabbed on to you tightly, and a series of butterflies, all of the same type as the one earlier, the bright emerald green colors circulate around your and Jay. You peaked through the small gaps of the beautiful green hues that were blurring together and saw the woman looking around, shocked, confused, and shaking with sobs as she was greeted with her family. She couldn’t have been any more than perhaps a couple years older than you.
Within a peak of a second, the flash of green brightened and you squinted your eyes shut as you buried your face into Jay’s chest. Feeling a slight tug on your waist, he calmly tells you.
“We’re here…”
Looking around, your breathing paused when you took a look around and saw that you were inside your apartment.
Cupping your face to have your eyes meet with his, he gives you a small peck on the lips.
“Wait here, he’ll come to you by tomorrow morning. So don’t go anywhere, okay?”
His hands were warm as he stroked your cheeks.
“…w-who is going to come?...another brother?” you asked.
He nods. “yeah…one of our younger ones. He’s going to like you a lot..i can already tell.”
You looked up at Jay and inquired for closure.
“How?...”
Looking over to your couch, he points at the line of cat plushies you have decorating the seats of your sectional.
“He likes cats….and apparently, so do you.” Jay remarks.
“Oh….”
Giving you one last peck, he tells you, “Stay here, and no matter what, don’t go anywhere until he gets here. I promise he’ll be here first thing in the morning. Until then, you need to be safe. If anything happens overnight, just call out his name.”
“Whose name?”
“You know….” Smirking, Jay tilts his head as he mouths silently to you.
‘H-E-L-E-L..’  
“….he’ll hear me?”
“yeah….he’ll always hear you. he loves you, therefore, so do we.”
Cupping your face, he says his goodbye to you.
“We’re going to see each other again real soon, so be good and safe.”
Kissing you on the forehead, your eyes close as you felt the warmth of his lips against your skin. The second you opened them, he was gone…just like Helel.
................................
"But some of them said, “By Beelzebul, the prince of demons, he is driving out demons.”" – Luke 11:15
C H A P T E R T H R 3 E : M A M M O N
Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii
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