#also I can only imagine someone walking into one of those heart-glasses and bumping themselves badly now bsjbgkfb

[starkwlkr]

love in las vegas | mark webber

through the decades masterlist

Las Vegas, 1967

Mark didn’t know why he even agreed to accompany his friends to sin city. He would much rather stay in his cosy bed and sleep, but he knew how much the trip meant to his friend, Tom, since it was a bachelor party.

“Think we’ll get lucky tonight?” Tom asked Mark as they walked the Las Vegas strip. Tom had talked all day about going to the casino so he was more than confident that he would be walking home with a few hundred dollars.

“I don’t want to jinx it.” Mark chuckled. Soon the group of friends found themselves in Caesars Palace. Mark never imagined himself at such a fancy place like Caesars Palace. He always thought it was for big name celebrities like Paul Newman and Audrey Hepburn.

Still he was here to enjoy time with his friends.

“Hey, I think I’m going to check out the rest of the building. I heard the pool is pretty nice.” Mark said to the group, but no one heard him since they were too busy on the slot machines.

He walked away and found himself wandering around. He wasn’t sure what direction the pool was located in so he kept walking and admiring the art work on the walls. That was until a sweet voice caught his attention.

“Honestly, Mary, why can’t I go alone? I’ve done it once, I can do it again. Fuck what the press thinks, they already think I’m a bitch!”

Mark watched as the most beautiful woman in the world walked down the hall. She had on red heart glasses and wore a shade of red lipstick that Mark loved. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her until he almost bumped into a wall.

“Mary, I’m going to be by the pool. All this thinking is making me stressed and I can’t be stressed.” Mark didn’t want to seem like a stalker, but he was going to the pool either way.

He watched as you were greeted by every person as you made your way to a cabana. You took your sunglasses off and laid on the lounge chairs.

Go talk to her . . No, she’s busy. . But it can’t hurt, right? It might! Think positive!

His inner thoughts were stopped when you called for him. He looked around thinking you were calling someone else, but he was proven wrong when you pointed at him.

“You are talking to me . . ” Mark nervously chuckled as he approached your cabana.

“Well yeah, you look lost.” You laughed. “You have an accent. I take it you’re not from here.”

“No, I’m from Australia. I’m just here with a couple of friends. They’re in the casino.” Mark explained.

“You can sit down, I don’t have germs.” You joked when you noticed that he was still standing. So Mark sat in the lounge chair across from you. “How are you liking Vegas?”

“It’s loud that’s for sure. It’s . . . perfect for those fancy rich celebrities. Especially those actors like that guy from to kill a mockingbird!”

“Gregory Peck? He’s lovely. Wonderful kisser too.” You reply with a smirk.

“What? Is it like a rumor?”

“No, I speak from experience. It was also lovely to work with him. He invited me to his house in California. I declined, but it was still nice of him to invite me.” You recalled the time your friend had invited you to his California home.

“Wait . .” Mark thought for a second. “You’re —”

You nodded. “One of those ‘fancy rich celebrities’ except I don’t come to Vegas often. I’m only here a couple hours. You see, I am supposed to be on a flight to Santa Monica for the academy awards, but I wanted to spend some time here. I like it here, it’s one of the few places I enjoy.”

Mark instantly felt like an idiot. He didn’t mean to insult you. Well then again, he didn’t know you acted. He hardly watches any new movies anyways. He had been busy with racing.

“I never asked you your name.” You said.

“Mark.” The Australian replied.

“Well Mark, do you want to explore Vegas with me?”

Mark didn’t have to think twice. You took him to your favorite restaurants, took pictures with your Polaroid and walked the strip until your feet ached. But there was one final stop that was a must do when you’re in Vegas.

Graceland Wedding Chapel

Was it a stupid decision? You and Mark didn’t think so.

That night, you had married a nice stranger.

“I can’t believe that we just got married!” Mark said as you walked out of the chapel with the certificate in hand. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

“Call me Mrs. Webber.” You held out the hand that Mark had been holding. The Australian grabbed it and kissed it.

“I think this is the best night of my life.” Mark sighed. “Wait, that makes my life sound extremely sad. Don’t listen to me.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. This is the best night of my life too and I’ve been to so many places, but being here with you is my favorite.”

As Mark leaned in to place a kiss on your lips, you gasped and pulled back. You had completely forgotten about the academy awards ceremony that you needed to attend in a few hours.

“I need to go! Wait, you need to go with me too!” You said.

“What? I can’t!”

“Why not? We just need to get to Santa Monica, get you a suit and get to the ceremony. I’m nominated for best actress!”

Best actress? You couldn’t miss that!

“Fine, but if my friends find out I ditched them—”

“They won’t notice you’re gone, I promise.”

Mark grabbed your hand and together you ran to the parking lot where his Porsche had been parked. Before you could get the chance, he opened the door for you and gave you a charming smile.

“Mrs. Webber.” He winked.

“You’re too kind, Mr. Webber.” You blushed.

Soon, you and Mark were on your way to Santa Monica. Mark had rolled the windows down and turned up the music. It was perfect. You could feel the cool air going through your hair, the sweet sound of ‘I think we’re alone now’ by Tommy James and The Shondelles filled your ears. Mark kept glancing at you every chance he got. In his eyes, you were the love of his life. He was a firm believer in soulmates and here you were in the passenger seat of his Porsche. You were living proof that love at first sight existed and he was head over heels in love with you.

The four hours it took to get to Santa Monica, you and Mark talked, sang and you even got a few minutes to nap. When you arrived, you took Mark to get a suit. Mark had only wore a suit a handful of times. He hated wearing them as a child, but now they weren’t too bad.

“What if I get asked a question?” Mark asked. “I don’t know anything about movies or actors!”

“Relax, i lie when I don’t know stuff. It’s fun.” You smile.

“It’s easy for you, you’re an actress. Wait, what if someone asks who I am to you? Don’t you have to talk to your manager or someone important before you say something?” Mark was too busy stressing while you were busy thinking how you were going to celebrate even if you didn’t win.

“Tell them the truth. You’re my husband, is that a bad thing?”

Being married wasn’t a bad thing, especially if you were his wife, mark thought. He would marry you everyday of his life if he could.

“I’ll scream it from the highest rooftop if I have to.” He kissed you.

After giving the cashier his last fifty dollars for the suit, Mark drove you to the Beverly Hills Hotel where your manager and makeup team were. He had never stepped foot in such a fancy hotel like the Beverly Hills before, sure he was in Cesars palace not too long ago, but the Beverly Hills was an upgrade.

You eventually made it to your room and entered the suite. Again, Mark was amazed by every little thing from the painting on the wall to the fluffy pillows. You honestly found it adorable.

“Where have you been?” Your makeup artist, Alexander, asked you.

“It’s a long story. Alex meet Mark, Mark meet Alex. There, we’re all good on introductions for now.” You smiled as you sat in the makeup chair.

“Where did you find him?” Alexander questioned as he got started on your makeup.

“Vegas. He’s Australian and he’s technically my husband. I’m Mrs. L/n-Webber.” You stated confidently. You were living up to the title now.

“What!?” Mark stood beside your chair not knowing if Alexander hated him or not. He wished he was anywhere else.

“Relax, we won’t say anything about it to the press.”

And that was the biggest lie. Well, sort of.

By the end of the night, Mark was introduced to most of the biggest faces in Hollywood. He got to walk the red carpet and posed for pictures with you. He also got to witness you win your first academy award where you publicly declared your love for him.

“Lastly, I want to thank Mark. These past few hours have been the craziest, but I wouldn’t change a thing.” You spoke into the microphone as you held your golden statue in your hands.

Mark was seated beside your manager, Henry, who was thankful the night was almost over. Little did Mark know that his friends had been watching the ceremony in their Vegas hotel room. Some of them were still drinking while others wondered how Mark even got an academy award winner to marry him.

The Australian smiled as you left the stage. This was certainly an interesting night that nobody would forget and nobody did. You and Mark stayed married. While Mark raced all over the world, you worked on numerous films and won awards. During the summer of 1969, you gave birth to your first child, a girl named Diana. Then four years later, your baby boy was born. Little Michael Webber, a spitting image of his father. You were in love with your little family even if it all started with a wild night in Vegas. You wouldn’t change any of it.

[indigo-to-hell]

Self-proclaimed best air smoocher

[bowieandqueen11]

Remember When / Hargreeves Imagine

Request: Love ur writing btw!! I have a Great idea for a Diego fic! Can u do his siblings somehow finding tapes/videos from the mental asylum Diego was in and seeing how badly he was tortured and abused. Then he has a panic attack or something at the end and they comfort him. 

I-ugh anon omg - my heart <3

Warning, some strong language, and also some descriptions of abuse, so please don’t read if it will make you uncomfortable!

Comments and reblogs are so so so appreciated, as this took me honestly way to long XD! Thank you!!

‘Way to go. Real Team Zero back there.’

‘Diego, we’ve already been through this. Dad’s a stubborn prick, as he has been, all our sad lives, yada yada, we’re sorry, okay? We should have known he’d still be the same condescending asshole’, Klaus replies, waving his hands in the air as he climbs the stairs back up to Elliot’s apartment. Rubbing his left eye with his hello tattoo, he uses his right to try and fumble a blunt out of his pocket, clenching it between his teeth. As he feels Luther’s footsteps pound up the rest of the way and jog past him to the landing, he can’t quite seem to light it - his fingers are still trembling too hard from the pain of Ben stealing his body in the way he did.

Running up the stairs after him, Diego leaves behind the rest of his shell shocked siblings. Instead he focuses on tucking in the corners of his shirt back into his pants, trying to do anything to stop himself focusing on Reginald and the tears that still threaten to prick at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t even notice when he walks head first into Klaus, until he has put a hand out and gripped onto his shoulder to stop them both from tumbling back down the stairs like bowling balls and straight into Allison.

‘You, brother, are an idiot. And a fat lot of help’, he smirks, sadly, gently slapping Klaus on his cheek.

‘Rude’, Klaus shrugs, winding his way towards the kitchen and kicking off his shoes in the process, looking for some Vodka to steal.

Allison hops quickly out of the way of the incoming shoes, used to his antics by now, and instead comes to settle next to where Vanya has plodded herself down on the sofa. Fiddling with her oversized jumper, a far away look on her face, Allison places a comforting hand on her bicep and gives her a sorrowful smile.

‘What do we do now?’, Vanya murmurs out as Luther squirms uncomfortably on one of Elliott’s wooden chairs. He ignores the beeping of the machines behind his head, instead swallowing thickly.

‘We, uh... wait for Five, I guess.’

‘No no no, right now, the most important thing we can do to try and change the world, is save JFK.’

‘Ughh we’ve been through this a million times! That’s not how it works Diego!’, Klaus calls from the kitchen, only a cloud of smoke trailing out from behind the wall and filling the room with both a stagnant smell of weed, and a light fog that seems to dampen the small amount of sunlight filtering through the askew blinds, which Elliott had been taking photos through earlier this morning.

‘Look, I get that you’re on some big crusade to prove something to dad, but this is not helpful right now.’

‘We all need to stick together and stop this thing’, Allison chimes in, desperation in her voice.

Luther’s interrupted from his continuing thoughts by a small squeak out of Vanya, following her eyes from where they are trained to a spot on the rug.

‘Oh my god... is that blood? Is someone bleeding?’

‘Holy shit.’

He gets up then, following the trail, beckoning his sisters to stay behind him with his hands until he reaches the dentistry chair at the edge of the landing, grimacing slightly as he turns to swivel it towards him with a squeak. He feels Klaus bump into one side of him, and Diego hit onto his other elbow, a rusty kitchen knife raised and ready, and a look of almost determination on his face, as if he had just been waiting for something awful to happen, just another chain of bad events so he knew his life was back onto its normal tracks.

‘Oh noooo’, Klaus groans, cupping his hands over his mouth as Elliott’s body turns to face them, a knife planted firmly in his eye.

Turning away from the tortured body of his friend, Diego swallows thickly, dropping his knife to the floor and placing an arm over his stomach. None of his siblings really notice, all of them looking over the dead body aghast, wondering, pained that they were the ones who caused something like this. None of them noticed the shake in his hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the bile back down his throat again. 

Klaus, however, did notice something. However, sadly for Diego, it was not the right thing - not the signs of shock, anxiety, or guilt that flashed over his brother’s face - the signs of PTSD he would have been the most adapt at noticing in the room. No, instead Klaus looked past poor Elliot’s head, towards a blinking static screen that kept flashing blue and black on a nearby desk, left abandoned underneath the shutter shots of the rest of them by Five.

‘Hello there, what might you be?’

Leaving the rest of them, he fumbled with the buttons on the old TV, trying to shake it out of his head how eerily familiar this seemed to dear old dad’s surveillance system. Hitting any button he can find in vain, he throws his blunt out of his mouth and flicks it across the room, slamming the control panel with the fist of his palm, until his pointer finger somehow managed to falter and hit play on the tape left inside.

Never before had Klaus noticed how much time is like water, that it can drip by in front of his eyes so slowly, or even freeze with each new frame. The past few minutes had passed by as if he had watched a thousand frames per second, too slow to be normal, so unusual. He turns to try and point to his siblings, but his jaw is still so slack and he finds he can’t move his fingers properly. Shock, that’s what they call it, shock, he thinks to himself, fighting to get his words out so they don’t trail out.

There is a sadness in his eyes, the glass green too glossy when he finally turns to his siblings and manages only to feebly point at the screen.

For the first time, since his mouth had been wired shut as a teenager, Klaus was at a loss of words.

This grabbed the attention of his siblings, who crowded over to join him and peer intently at the screen - all except foe Diego, who stayed hovering at the edge of the group.

The screen lights up again, showing an empty room, one without proper handles, only sheets of smooth metal as makeshift windows for staff to peer through. There’s no bed, no mattress on the cold floor, just emptiness, isolation, silence, for the man who sits in the centre of the floor in pure white. They recognise from the shaggy hair and the wild beard that it’s there brother almost immediately.

'You were in an Asylum? What for?’, Vanya asks.

‘For trying to save the President’, Diego manages to mutter, unable to look any of them in the eye. ‘For doing what needed to be done.’

He’s interrupted by himself, the small version of him on the tape muttering to himself, rocking back and forth. ‘I am not enough, I can’t do it, I’m not good enough. You’ll never be number one, never.’  

The door swings open then. In his intense silence, Diego somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his chalky face gaunt and immobile as the doctor approached him with the needle.  

‘Please! Not the needle!’, he begs and cries. ‘Please!’

Luther’s the first to turn round and look at his brother. The first to finally look, to finally see him, how defeated he looks, for the first time since they all landed in that alleyway.  It's the look that he gives Diego. Those pale blue eyes, probing into his soul, desperately wanting to see what's going on in there. That look, it just tore Diego apart, piece by piece, and although it wasn’t his fault, he found himself deeply unsettled, deeply angry at him, at all of them, so suddenly.

‘W-w-what? What are you looking at a-a-ss-’

An invisible hand clasps over his mouth and stops his words from escaping, an equally ghostly hypodermic of adrenaline piercing his heart, making it contort and expand until it feels just about ready to burst. His ribs heave uneasily, and Allison’s afraid he’s about to pass out, Klaus rushing forward, biting his lips. Diego only wants to run, but needs to freeze. All he can do, instead, is fall to his knees, and allow four pairs of hands to catch him before his face hits the floor.

A single tear slides down from his warm, butterscotch eyes, followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed it's way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but still he did not make a sound. His siblings made the noise for him, warm, comforting little nothings, telling him it was going to be okay, he didn’t have to go back, they were going to do it, save the world. Save themselves.

The hand appeared from nowhere and tightened on his wrist, white knuckled, strong, until Luther had pulled him against his chest, and the others had gently fallen to their knees too and placed their arms around his back as best as they could. Klaus was half leaning over Allison’s leg, and Vanya in turn was completely squished, face first, against his chest, but somehow they made it work.

There is the hug of gentle arms that still gives you the space to breathe, like the ones Grace used to give Diego after a mission. Shutting his eyes, he realises he isn’t used to this type, the kind of hug with strong arms that tells everything that your are - body, brain and soul - that they are with you. 

They stay like that for a while, the five - well, the six of them, as Ben places his arms around his siblings as well, even if they can’t feel him. The six of them, battered, afraid, neglected, and yet, not alone. They huddle there together, embracing each other and crying and just allowing themselves to be open, to be vulnerable with each other, to realise their dad wasn’t there and they didn’t have to go through this alone anymore. 

Tears were wiped and sobbing laughs were shared, and even Five, when he blipped back into the room, saw the set of his siblings hugging on the floor and felt a pang of loneliness and love for his crazy family ring out in his heart that he joined them, if only for a second.

From then they weren’t numbers anymore. They weren’t even siblings. They were more, Diego said with a smile. They were Team Zero.

[purple-phantoms]

Hi lovely!

Can you please do a Nick imagine where the reader is a really shy piano player with anxiety? Like maybe she has to perform in front of the class and after she’s done she runs out crying?

Thanks bb!

The Pianist

Nick x Female!Reader

Thank you so much for requesting this! I totally love this idea and I think it’s so cute. I’ve experienced that kind of anxiety before when singing in front of people I’ve just met and it just sucks. I tried including a bit of that in this, so I hope it worked out well! Again, I’m writing this on the mobile version of tumblr so this will not be properly edited for a little bit. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Being in the music program was hard. You’d think that all you have to do is to just create music. That part is just fine for her. But then you have to perform it in front of your class or sometimes in front of an audience. Performing in front of one or two people that I know isn’t bad, but when when it’s a big group of people, it just gets bad.

She was an outcast in school and didn’t mind. She had a few friends here and there, but nothing to big. Never anything to draw attention to herself. She never had the courage to talk to people like Julie Molina or Carrie Wilson. They were always the ones to volunteer to go first on days where they had to present their work to the class. Julie was always nice to her. She sometimes tried to bring y/n out of her shell. She’d invite her to eat lunch with her and her best friend, Flynn, sometimes but she always declined the offer. Carrie was like Chris Hargensen (from the movie Carrie)... except she wasn’t that aggressive. Carrie loved making fun of her in class by saying things like, “are you going to talk today, y/n?” she just wished you were more sociable like Julie. In theory, it would be so amazing to be a part of Dirty Candy. Even if you hated Carrie, there was no denying that their music slaps. But she would never be able to perform with all those people staring at her, so instead she just opted for teaching herself their choreography in the safe space of her bedroom. That way she wouldn’t have to experience the stares of her peers.

Today was Wednesday, a.k.a., the day her parents were always a little bit late for picking her up. she preferred staying away from the crowds of students who were also waiting on their parents. Dirty Candy always practiced right after school on Wednesday’s in the dance studio. Their practices were closed to everyone but Nick, the guy Carrie said was off-limits to anyone but her. They weren’t dating, but everyone expected them to be like if Sharpay and Troy dated. Nick was the cool guy who everybody liked. He was the star of the lacrosse team and an amazing guitarist. Carrie, on the other hand, was the girl most people feared. You’d never see her wearing an outfit in a dark color or without her backup dancers. Anyway, back to business. The door to the dance studio was always locked, but there was a tiny glass frame in it where you could easily use your phone to record their routine. They were dancing to their new song, Wow. It was her favorite so far. Well, she says that about all their songs.

They finished and paused for a couple seconds to catch their breath. She ended the video and started walking away, only to bump into another person, making her drop her phone. She leaned down right away to avoid any sort of eye contact or conversation with that person, but they just had to speak, “sorry, y/n.” It was Nick.

She looked up at him in shock. “You-you know my name?” Barely anybody acknowledged her existence in the school.

“Of course I know you,” he chuckled. “You’re the girl in class with the killer vocal chords.” His smile was contagious. Wow, she now understood what Carrie saw in him.

“Um, thanks, Nick,” she muttered. Then her phone went off, her mom was finally in the parking lot. “I gotta go-“

“Hey, what song are you doing tomorrow?” Nick asked. Did he not hear her say that she had to go?

“Uh probably just something by Adele,” you smiled. “Sorry, my mom’s here to pick me up.” This was probably the fastest she’s ever speed-walked away from someone before. Talking to people is weird. If it had been any other guy, she wouldn’t have had to get into a conversation. Nick is great and sweet and cute and all of this is besides the point. Nick is a nice guy but she just wanted to pick up her phone and leave.

-

When watching someone play the piano and sing at the same time, it looks so effortless. Nobody takes into account what they’re really doing. Nobody considers how long they must have trained to learn all the right chords and memorize the ones that go with their song. Nobody considers how long it must have taken them to perfect their song, whether it be alone or with the help of anothe person. Nobody considers what goes on inside the person’s head. Nobody considers what they think of themselves as they play. Nobody notices that maybe that person wants to be invisible.

The next day was the day of class performances. Per usual, the teacher allowed volunteers to go first. Julie sang first, then Carrie, then Flynn and so on and so forth. It got to the point where everybody who wanted to perform had already performed, so her teacher started getting frustrated. “Guys, it’s just two minutes of spotlight.” Silence. “Y/n, how about yo give it a go?”

Her head shot up so quickly at that and just froze. The teacher knew about her situation and has let her perform just for her during lunch. It just made things easier. “Ms. Jacobs, can I just perform during lunch,” she asked timidly. Everybody was staring at her, expecting her to go so that the teacher wouldn’t call on someone else.

But Ms. Jacobs shook her head. “Sorry, y/n. You’ve got to get over that stagefright somehow.” But did it have to be now!? There was no way she could argue with her without causing a scene. Come on, y/n, don’t cry.

Within what felt like a lifetime, she stood up from the chair and lifted her feet, one by one, to walk over to the shiny black piano. It was brand-new, just bought buy the school that summer. It was sleek and clean, practically begging to be used to make music. The walk to the piano’s bench felt exhausting and slow. It was silent, you could easily hear a needle hit the ground as her classmates waited on her to play. But oh god, what note does she even start with? What’s the first line of the song?

“Ms. L/n,” her teacher called. “Any day now.” Y/n looked up-nope, big mistake. Why is everyone watching her so intently? Ba. Did she just press a note? She looked at Ms. Jacobs, who gave an encouraging smile in return. Okay, y/n. Just pretend nobody’s watching you. Pretend you’re just singing in your room.

Her fingers started playing as if it was the only thing they knew to do. They couldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop thinking.. Just get it done, y/n.

When will I see you again?

You left with no goodbye, not a single word was said.

No final kiss to seal anything.

I had no idea of the state we were in.

I know I have a fickle heart and a bitterness

And a wandering eye and heaviness in my head,

But don’t you remember?

Don’t you remember the reason you left me before?

Baby, please remember me once more.

Y/n closed her eyes and sighed as she finished. That wasn’t that bad.. Then the applause came and her perfect setting of playing the piano at home where nobody could hear her was gone and was filled with people. People who knew her were staring at her and applauding her. Performing in front of a random audience is one thing, because you have no idea who’s in the audience. You’ll never know (until afterwards at least) if your best friend happened to be in the crowd, or if one of the Kardashians were there. Plus, you’ll never have to worry about someone saying things about you when you’re right next to them because they don’t know you and you don’t know them. When you’re performing in front of your class, there are no rules. Anybody can think anything they want about your performance and nitpick it in their heads or out loud and that’s just how they’ll look at you. She was brought out of her thoughts by Ms. Jacobs talking to the class again, “see folks, this is what I’m talking about!” She looked like she had just met the queen of England. There’s no way she’s smiling like that after her performance. Was she really that good? This is too much.

Y/n managed to slip away from the classroom unnoticed as Ms. Jacobs kept talking. She couldn’t breathe. Oh god, why couldn’t Ms. Jacobs just let me perform at lunch? That was so bad. Does google offer tips to give yourself amnesia? Because she just wanted to forget about all of that mess- “Y/n?” Oh no, it’s Nick again. “What are you doing out here,” he asked.

“I just needed to catch my breath,” she muttered. Why is a cute guy paying attention to me like this?

“Wait, why are you crying, you were amazing,” he said. What? She wasn’t even crying. Oh, there we go... Why am I crying!?!

“I don’t know,” I sobbed. “I hate it when people are watching me.” She didn’t understand why the majority of her classmates could perform efortlessly and not even consider that they did badly later on. Why couldn’t she feel that way?

Nick put a soft hand on her shoulder. “But if nobody watched you, nobody would know how great you are,” he proclaimed. Woah, headrush. He thinks I’m great now? She nodded and smiled. Maybe he was right. “What if we work together next time,” He offered.

“But we don’t even know if the next project will be a group one,” she chuckled. People never wanted to work with her. They always thought that she’d never do the work because she couldn’t even bother to speak, or she’d just take over the entire project.

“Let me at least get your number,” he replied. He seemed genuine, there was going to be no foulplay in this, so she agreed to that and to him walking her home from school. And on the next project, they got to work together and y/n got through it wih his help. They did it together.

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Add yourself to my taglist!

@flashoe @carnationcreation

[flowesona]

The Hermit - Yandere! Seokjin x reader

The Tarot Series

Warning: Mentions of Suicide, Explicit Content

Seokjin could not find real love for the life of him. Everyone around him was too vain, too obsessed with themselves to care about him. Everyone was hungry for money, or attention, and it made him sick. In his desperation for romance he turned to the previously taboo area for relationships - the internet.

He could find someone that shared his passions. He was even prepared to pretend to like something, just to find that special someone. But luckily he didn’t have to seek out anyone as desperate as he was. She just stumbled into his lap incidentally.

He’d found that Discord was the easiest way to find friendly, chatty people to satiate his hunger for love. That was how he’d found her, on some server about a video game he’d played casually a few times. He’d been pleasantly surprised when she sent him a message individually, asking if he was down to play a few rounds with her.

He’d instantly asked his friend to borrow his console, since this girl didn’t use PC. Jungkook had been persuaded to hand over his console with enough bribery and guilt tripping, and Jin was set to win the game and her heart.

“What do you do for a living then?” (Y/N) was relaxed enough, sat back in her chair with her knees to her chest and eyes on the screen.

“I’m a model. You?” Her teammate answered simply. Sure, he was only beginning his career, but what harm could a little white lie do?

“A model? That’s really cool. Guess I’m going to be the ugly friend, huh?” She laughed, before going silent to focus on the game.

“You didn’t answer me. What do you do?” Jin didn’t seem content to let silence take over.

“I’m stuck in a permanent limbo buddy. I don’t really know what I want to do once I’ve graduated. If I graduate that is.” 

(Y/N) sighed, shifting in her seat slightly.

“I can help you. I’m successful enough to-” She laughed, cutting off his wheedling statement.

“Not happening. You can kill me before I let you become my sugar daddy, buddy.”

“Seokjin.” He responded quietly. “My name’s Seokjin, but you can just call me Jin.”

“Well, Jin if you want to help me out maybe take care of these people behind me?”

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

He’d finally convinced her to skype him, to allow him to see her face after weeks of asking. Jin’s fingers trembled as he typed in the username and sent the request, an odd feeling in his stomach. Anticipation but also a slight fear - what if she didn’t look how he imagined his ideal woman to be? What if he’d wasted all his energy on a catfish?

But the face that appeared on his screen was nothing less than that of a goddess. It was as if his fantasy had been projected before him, as if his Galatea had been breathed into life.

“Hey Jin? You okay?” Her words shook him out of his trance and he nodded eagerly.

“It’s nice to put a face to the voice.” He said light-heartedly, flashing her a charming grin.

“You catch the lea- oh hold on a second.” (Y/N) left briefly, leaving Jin to stare at his own reflection in pity, to see the sad man he had become doting endlessly after a girl who couldn’t talk to him for a full minute without being interrupted.

Luckily, he only had to suffer for a few minutes as she re-entered the view of the webcam with a decently sized package in her hands.

“Sorry about that buddy. I forgot that my shoes were being delivered today.” It was that repeated use of the casual nickname that was starting to make his heart ache. As if she saw him as a friend and nothing more.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” He called her attention away from her parcel, revelling in her ethereal face. “Do you have a boyfriend you’ve never told me about?”

“Nope.” She responded. “And don’t you even think about trying to weasel your way into that role.”

“Why? Would I not be the perfect boyfriend?” His tone was teasing but his heart was thumping in his chest at the conversation.

“You are the perfect friend, Jin. I would happily hook you up with one of my close friends some time if you’re looking for love.”

“Yeah….” Throughout the rest of their conversation there was a notable absence of Jin’s normal self. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t convince himself to be happy when she could never be his.

Yet he couldn’t stop himself. No matter how much she talked about him being a friend he was constantly pulled further into his obsession with her.

He hadn’t even realised that he’d gone too far when he contacted the leader of their discord (a personal friend of hers) to ask her last name. He wasn’t even aware of how fucked up it was when he solicited a professional to dig up as much personal information as possible on her. There wasn’t a sliver of sanity left when he ‘casually’ took a stroll through her neighbourhood, waiting for her to bump into him and invite him back to her place.

Jin had gone crazy for her, and she didn’t even know.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

“(Y/N), you could do a lot better.” The older man said sternly, taking off his glasses. She stayed silent, hands on her knees to keep them from bouncing.

“I know, I might have rushed it since I was so busy with-” As the pair spoke, they were unaware of the third party spying on them. Jin had found a peephole in the storage room next to the professor’s office, and was watching the whole interaction with a second hand anxiety for her situation. 

“Well, there’s a few ways that you could make it better. I haven’t logged the grade in the system yet, so you could try again. Or, you can do me a little favour and I’ll log it as a B plus.” Jin watched in horror as (Y/N) cautiously nodded and got down on her knees, her hands unbuckling the older man’s belt.

He felt like he was going to be sick seeing (Y/N) being so intimate with another man, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to look away. He started to imagine himself in her professor’s position, thinking about how it would feel to have her mouth on him, her mischievous eyes looking up at him, and before he knew it he had one hand in his pants and another covering his mouth, hoping the walls weren’t too thin and they wouldn’t be able to hear their voyeuristic partner. But it was over too soon, (Y/N) standing up to wipe at her lips and muttering some kind of thank you as she left, trying to fix her appearance.

Jin started to make himself presentable as well, wiping his hand on his jeans. He checked back on the professor, seeing that he was packing away his laptop, ready to go home for the night.

‘Shit’.

Jin had to do something to stop this monster plaguing his (Y/N)’s life, and fast. 

He slunk out of the janitor’s closet, hoping to fit in as he walked to the parking lot. There, after checking that there weren’t any security cameras watching, he waited. Only half paying attention to his phone, some music blaring through his headphones so that he was camouflaged into the university setting, no one was even aware that he could possibly have the means to kill tucked away the back of his jeans.

Finally, the professor walked out, a tower of books in his hands. Jin approached him with a charming smile.

“Need any help there, professor? You seem to be struggling with that!” He offered, his hand outstretched to take some of the weight off his shoulders.

“Oh, thank you young man. My car is just over here.” The man smiled gratefully, bending to let Jin take the highest books on the stack before leading him to his vehicle.

“Just put them in the trunk for me. Thanks so much for your help.” Once all the books were loaded, the professor went to enter his car only to be stopped by the feeling of a gun being pressed to his back.

“Unless you want to die, get in the car. Act natural.” Jin muttered in his ear, easing the pressure off his hostage’s back for a second. “Don’t even fucking think about running or you’ll be dead before you know it.”

The professor gave a shaky nod, climbing into the driver’s seat as Jin sat in the passenger’s seat directly behind him.

“I want you to go to your home. Don’t think about acting up to get pulled over, got it?” He hissed. 

“Why are you doing this? I swear, if it’s money you want I’ll give you whatever you need, no questions ask-”

“I thought you were smarter than to question the man holding a gun to your back. Drive.” Jin snarled, his victim jumping into action once he felt a jab through his seat.

Jin didn’t even feel bad. In his mind, it was all just, punishing the man who was coercing his perfect (Y/N) into such gross, indecent acts.

Pulling up at his residence, the professor felt slightly more at ease, thinking he could just give this maniac money or his valuables and just be free. But Jin had other plans.

“Your laptop. Bring it with you into the house. You’ll need it.” He snapped, keeping the gun low enough that it wasn’t obvious to passersby but high enough that it was still a threat. His hostage nodded sullenly, pulling out his briefcase and laptop bag.

“Now, we’re going inside your house. I don’t want any funny business, got it?” Jin said quietly, following the professor as he unlocked his front door and entered, disabling the security alarm.

“What do you want no-”

“Where do you normally sit when you’re thinking?” Jin interrupted.

“My study, why? Please, whatever you want just tell me-”

“Go there. Sit in your chair or whatever.” Jin held the gun up higher. “I’m getting impatient.”

Once he was seated, Jin finally said what he wanted.

“Get out your laptop. You’re going to write a confession about everything you’ve done wrong, the young girls you’ve abused and apologise for it all.” His victim turned as pale as a ghost.

“I-I didn’t do anything, what are you on about-”

“I’ve seen it.” Jin snarled. “Getting those girls to do you 'favours’ for passing grades? You’re sick.”

He pointed the gun right at the professor’s forehead, pressing the cool metal into his skull.

“Get writing already. If you miss anything out then I’ll know.”

It was silent for a while, the professor’s pages slowly creeping on and on, detailing every incident from the start of his career onwards until that very day, all of which had been pushed aside for so long by loyal colleagues. But his crimes were not to be ignored for much longer.

He finished typing, having left his name at the bottom of the account.

“Send it to the university board, your colleagues, your family and the Gazette. Everyone. They deserve to know who you truly are.” Jin commanded lowly. 

“Why are you involved in this? Who told you?” The scholar questioned as he started to type out the names of his colleagues, giving occasional glances up.

“You fucked my girl, (Y/N), this afternoon. I saw the whole thing, and I’m not happy about it.” Jin answered, his hands shaking slightly. “What gave you the right to ask that of her, to make her some common whore for you when she’s so much more? You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Okay, I sent it. Now what?” 

“Thank you. Now, you die.” The bullet was lodged in his victim’s brain before the man even had the chance to react, slumping forward onto his desk. Jin smirked, wiping the gun down before easing it into the corpse’s hand.

“I told you would get what was coming to you.” He taunted the corpse before leaving, praying that he hadn’t left a trace.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

“(Y/N), you seem different.” Jin commented, only half concentrating on his gameplay. Most of his attention had been drawn by how stunning (Y/N) looked through her webcam. She was practically glowing, and Jin was honoured to have a front row seat to her euphoria.

“Oh. It’s kind of fucked up that I’m happy about this, but my professor shot himself yesterday apparently. He was a real creep and it’s weirdly liberating to be able to talk about what he did.” She sighed.

“Really?” Jin answered, heart thumping.

“He made me… well, at least he’s gone. He confessed to everything, so at least his victims are at peace knowing his crimes have been exposed.” (Y/N) said uneasily.

“Well, at least he can’t hurt you anymore.” She gave him a warm smile, only for it to fade in a few seconds.

“Jin! Concentrate! If we lose this round I’ll gut you like a fish.”

He laughed, finally satisfied to see how (Y/N) was happy once again with her troubles gone no sooner than they’d arrived.

He’d found his true happiness was making (Y/N)’s life better from the shadows, being her ‘buddy’ to her face but her knight in shining armour behind her back. He didn’t care who it was, he’d cut anyone who was being toxic out of her life. All for his idea of love.

[delicatestar]

My experiences communing with Apollo

Note: My experiences with Apollo seem to be a bit different from other people’s. This post is about my UPG, my personal experiences, and yours may be different. And that's ok! :)

Who is Apollo?

Apollo (sometimes Apollon) is the Greek god of many things: health and healing, music, dance, and poetry, prophecy, truth, and knowledge. He also represents light and pulls a chariot carrying Helios, the sun god, across the sky each day.

His personality in Greek mythology can vary from stern and easy-to-anger to kind and warm-hearted. He's shown to take vengeance, to fall in love (usually with tragic results), and to act as an intermediary between gods and humans.

While many of his devotees describe him as intimidating, distant, moody, or scary, this hasn't been my experience with him at all.

I find Apollo to be warm and brotherly, like a proud mentor, but we talk to each other like good, lifelong friends. He can be witty and outright hilarious, especially when bantering with Hermes. But he can also be serious and thoughtful and philosophical.

He aids me with research and writing, pushes me to grow in different areas I study, keeps me positive about my chronic illness, and boosts my confidence. He also grants inspired thought during my tarot sessions and provides insightul moments of strong intuition.

I hope that you can use the things I'll talk about here to connect more closely with Apollo. I know that many people find him hard to connect with, but Apollo can be such a rewarding god to work with.

How do I interact with Apollo?

I practice my devotion to Apollo on a combined altar with the other gods I follow. This might not work for everyone, but for me, it feels like the gods are convened together in a sacred space that replicates Olympus.

On the altar, I offer Apollo handmade gifts, art inspired by his comics, and things that remind me of him. Some of my writing is also dedicated to Apollo, and I offer him the music I make when I play the piano. I play songs for him on Spotify, and I'm working on a playlist.

I ask Apollo for help with my health and the health of those I care about. I ask him for inspiration, especially if I have writer's block. And I ask him for logic when my anxiety gets out of hand.

He speaks to me through strong intuitive pushes, sudden thoughts that appear in my mind, books that fall open to significant pages, or incidental signs or nudges that I notice around me. We also communicate through meditation and tarot.

Intuitive pushes and thoughts

By this I mean sudden predictive thoughts that appear in my mind. They're not just "feelings." They're more like someone put all the facts together, considered all the logical posibilities, and then generated a thought based on the most objective probability. This is partly how my mind words and partly a function of Apollo, so I think this is why we work well together.

An example of this: I might put a glass of water on a table and then immediately see an image in my mind of the cup getting bumped and knocked over, spilling water everywhere. Inevitably, if I ignore this push, the cup will spill and I'll be left cleaning up the mess and regretting not listening. If I do listen, the cup won't be spilled and all will be well.

As another example, if I try to do something, like going out to eat, and everything seems to be going wrong -- I stub my toe, I can't find the shirt I wanted to wear, I'm running late -- then I'll decide not to go. Personally, these obstacles represent a larger trend and I feel like they're a sign to just stop and take care of myself instead. Inevitably, I'll have a flare up of my illness if I don't listen and what was going to be a fun night out will become miserable.

Words

Sometimes I'll feel a thought so loudly that I absolutely must say it out loud. While I may not even feel strongly about the subject or the words may not agree with my own opinion, I feel compelled to express them anyway.

Sometimes these words so clearly belong to Apollo that my wife has deemed them "inspired speech," or the words of a god expressed through a devotee.

I'm not yet sure how I feel about thinking of it this way, but I'm open to the possibility. Apollo tends to be the main god who expresses themselves like this for me and I'm sometimes surprised by the things he says. If the connection is really strong, tears start flowing from my eyes for no reason.

Signs

Sometimes I'll see something in the environment around me that just makes me think of Apollo. For example, like a sign on the subway or a comment on Twitter. Signs are very personal, and only you can know if what you've seen is a sign from a god or not. Apollo's signs for me may include the image of a crow in a place I don't expect it, a sudden reminder on Twitter to drink water or practice self-care, or the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

Books

As the god of knowledge and truth, I associate Apollo with learning, research, and books. I have an unquenchable thirst for learning new things, and I feel Apollo's presence there every step of the way. Sometimes a book will open to a page I hadn't intended and something will stand out to me. Or a book that I wasn't looking for will suddenly stand out and I'll know it's what I need to read.

Meditation

When I want to communicate directly with Apollo, I stand before my altar or sit on the bed nearby and close my eyes. I picture Apollo or a representation of him in my head, like how he makes me feel or things I associate with him. I'm not very formal with him, and I talk directly to him. And we talk about how I'm feeling, self care, and ideas. He helps me work through my thoughts and understand them.

This is in addition to the normal constant mental conversation I have with all of my gods throughout the day. And meditation doesn't have to look like traditional meditation. I consider anything that gets me into "flow" to be meditation. So if I'm writing and feeling particularly inspired, I think of that as meditation. If I'm soaking in a tub and feeling very relaxed and letting my thoughts flow, I think of that as meditation.

Tarot

I should say up front that I don't believe humans have the ability to know the future as a pre-written timeline. (I reserve the right to change my mind, though, in case we discover something new about the nature of time and reality that convinces me.) This may seem like a contradiction since I work with Apollo, a god of prophecy, but let me explain.

I do think that we can make educated and/or intuitive guesses based on our experiences. And I work with Apollo to identify the possibilities and understand and plan for them.

I usually shuffle the cards until enough fall out on their own to fill in my spread. (I also work with Fortuna/Tyche and ask for her help in this part of the reading, to ensure the cards I need to see are the ones that appear.) Then, I walk through each card, what it means, and how it applies to my life and the current challenges I'm facing.

The cards help me look at my problems from a different perspective and get some distance from the emotional, stressful aspects. They let me look at it from a more objective point of view. I work with Apollo throughout the reading, asking him for advice, help with understanding how it's all connected, and enlightenment as I use the reading to come up with solutions.

(I'll post a separate post about how I read tarot based on intuitive nudges and prediction with Apollo. Please look out for it!)

Other ways

Sometimes Apollo's presence feels like a warm glow or a feeling of well-being. I actively imagine my aura/spirit absorbing that feeling and making it part of myself.

Sometimes it's more like a sudden brainstorm, where I need to write down all of the ideas before they're gone. I have so many files of Apollo-inspired thoughts!

I also write poetry for him, then burn it in a small cauldron and offer the words up to him. No one else has ever read those words; I don't post or publish them anywhere. They're just between me and Apollo, an offering of creative energy.

There are so many ways to connect with Apollo. There's no way I could list them all. The main thing to remember is that if you think you may be connecting with him, you probably are and you should follow that train of thought to see where it goes.

Thank you for reading!

It's been so rewarding following a god like Apollo.

He's inspired me to take better care of myself, go to doctors, and listen more to my body. He helps me with anxiety and insomnia. I'm truly grateful!

I really hope that this post was useful. I'm very shy about sharing these things, and I'm not sure if it will be helpful. Please feel free to drop an ask if you have questions about anything here. Thanks!

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond, CSSNS 2020

Emma Swan is a Witch who has made (And apparently makes) bad decisions. Helping a desperate Witch out of a weird situation doesn't seem like a bad decision, even against her, runes, a tarot reading and her friend's Snow druid intuition - until it is and the consequences are very real.

Killian is a Demon with a long history of persecution against him, and his denizens are not much better off. His Angelic brother is on a mission to rehab Demonic image to prevent violence on the streets of Hyperion Heights, as some sort of Holy mission deeply rooted in millenia of guilt. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. After a disastrous meeting, he attempts to drown his frustration with a trip to the bottom of a bottle, but ends up falling in bed with a mysterious Witch in her tower home. Soon he's missing a hand, has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, and a mirror shows that some strange, different, Witch is pregnant with his child.

RATED M for Mature Themes. Written for @cssns​ 2020 Beta’d by The best team ever ( @jarienn972​  @ultraluckycatnd​  @donteattheappleshook​) and Art by @kmomof4​

Read on Ao3 HERE. 1 | 2 

Chapter 2 - House Evil Spirits to appease of,

Part of Emma was coming to terms with the new fact that she was pregnant, then just as rapidly she reverts back through the cycle of grief, sometimes not in order. The doctor had warned her this would happen when she announced that they would be keeping her for overnight observation as a safety precaution, dropping the news that her new pregnancy hormones would also make her feel even more upside down then she had ever imagined. It was one thing to be told, but feeling it was another thing entirely.

She had gone from laughing at the breakfast menu she was handed to crying over grilled cheese not being an option, to enraged at being brought bright blue jello with her 'breakfast sandwich' made of bologna and eggs. They could not have known the intense reaction the jiggling neon goo would have given her, her magic flaring and sputtering in turn as she launched it away from her. But then again, she doubted any of the staff had spent time in a No-Magic cell. Nausea bloomed as soon as rage subsided, the food on the plastic tray too similar to what had been served to her over those long years locked away. 

Now irritation was playing through multiple emotions, a new nurse violently poking her with a needle, and running some sort of IV. 

"You're giving me what -" 

"A hormone treatment, and a magic suppressant." 

"But I need my magic -" 

"Would you prefer to shrivel up and die? You'll still have enough to do daily witch activities or whatever. This helps keep the extra at bay, and your baby healthy. It needs your magic." 

"Oh. Great." She laughed, half crazed at the news and the nurse's treatment. "Just great."

"Mess with their kind, and well." She shrugged, eyeing Emma's body. "An Angel wouldn't do that to you. A Vampire couldn't, and the rest of 'em could, but you wouldn't have to suffer through all this nasty magic aftermath. You're just early enough for a termination though, thank Merlin."

"I didn't do this to myself on purpose . This was never supposed to happen, at least not like this…" 

"Sure." The nurse rolled her eyes as she drew out the word, clearly being condescending. "It's never the Witch’s fault; I hear it every time I'm fixing them for blowing themselves in half for not reading a spell right. You play with dark magic, there's a cost." 

Emma scowled, hot tears starting and streaming down her cheeks. Her anger and ferocity that was there just moments before had evaporated without warning into a deep resignation. 

"Can my brother come to see me yet?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"After they question you, sure. He can come pick you up - You're done here." The nurse pulled off the empty bag from the IV stand, throwing it in the trash. 

The doctor entered, waving a hello. Emma did not notice her, too busy staring at her bump. She joined the nurse as a machine beeped, helping to take out her IV and the pads on her belly. When that was done, Emma sat up, wobbling from her strange new center of gravity. 

The doctor smiled at her kindly. "We'll have your test results in a few days to a week's time. You'll feel strange and sluggish the first few weeks as your body catches up to the rapid growth, your hormones, the magic, so on and so forth. From there, you may actually start to grow as normal until you'll need the next dose of suppression. We'll schedule that out for 4 months from now, checking in monthly, but if you grow suddenly, shrink suddenly, your extremities swell, or you begin to exhibit flu like symptoms, come in immediately. If anything seems off, just give us a call. We have a twenty-four seven nurse line should you have any other questions. Good luck!"

The doctor left without much more than a precursory glance back. 

Snapping her gloves, the nurse glared over her glasses at Emma. "Leave when you are ready. We got you a different outfit; it's amongst your personals there."

The nurse left in a hurry, leaving Emma to dress herself in a large pair of green hospital scrubs, her new figure completely foreign as she rubbed her hands across the smooth skin. Her once flat stomach was distended, a slight curve that pushed out stretched skin. Her clothes in the plastic bag they had given her were dirty and looked damp. The clothing she was given would have been a small comfort if the stiff fabric didn't feel so much like her old prison uniform. 

"Fuck," Emma choked out, gripping the chair for support. She felt dizzy, absolutely nauseated at the idea of a baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. Something in her felt warmth at the idea, a strange, creeping feeling of rightness mixed with calm. The rest of her wanted to claw at her skin, urging her to wake up from this horrible dream. 

Every time she closed her eyes, she fervently wished this wrongness was a hallucination. But it wasn't; she was still swaying on her feet every time she opened her eyes again. This wasn't some sort of nightmare, there was a baby, some creature's inhuman child inside her. "Fuck. Fuck!" 

Tears began to prick behind her eyes, her face heating as she sat down on the hospital bed with her head cradled in her hands. 

( You can't cry over this. This happened because of your shady dealings. 

  You got a firstborn child alright. Yours. )

Swallowing hard, Emma tried to banish the thoughts bombarding her. 

( A baby. A baby you can love and hold, who you will never abandon. Someone you can raise the way you weren't, a second chance. Put your armor back on - for you and your child. )  

Emma bit her lip hard, swiping angrily at her tears. Bottling up the emotions, she took a breath, grabbed her purse, and walked down the hallway. To her great surprise, Elsa was waiting. 

"Emma, oh my stars. This is - I have no words. I'm so sorry," Elsa whispered. Emma gave a half hearted shrug, her voice still trembling slightly.

"Yeah. Well. Can I go home yet? That's why you're here right?" Emma hated the anxious, pleading edge of her tone.

"No, not yet. You have to be interviewed by the inspector detective here and then you are free to go." Elsa approached and hugged Emma softly. "I got you a nice one though, he's one of my favorites. Jones. He's an Angel - literally and figuratively. He's saved me on so many cases, I can't help but sing his praise." 

"Oh Elsa. Thank you." Emma hugged her friend tightly, both of them trembling. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Elsa scoffed. "I don't know what anyone would do. Joking aside, we are all going to be here for you, no matter what happens. It's not going to be like last time." Elsa pushed back a strand of Emma's hair, looking straight into her eyes. "You won't go through this alone. We're going to fight for you, and figure this out. Luckily, our major project is postponed anyway. Until they find the Demon Prince, the council is on a hiatus." 

"I just want to go home. I don't know if I can handle everyone right now." Emma mumbled. "It's bad enough David probably knows, which means Snow and everyone else -" 

"Please don't push us away, Emma. We know it's a lot, but going into the unknown like this," Elsa took one of Emma's hands, squeezing it lightly. "Having a family, having faith and love - it's the only way to get through."

"Miss Frost," a low voice called from a room nearby. Elsa led Emma to a small office, smiling at the large Angel who stood on one side of a desk. He returned her smile, until Emma met his eyes. His frown was slow, not suiting his features, even when his blue eyes sharply laser focused on Emma's rotund body. She could see his muscles tense, his golden tinged wings giving the smallest of flutters. "Miss Swan."

"I'll leave you both to it, then." Elsa smiled, inspector Jones weakly returning it as she closed the door to them. 

Emma sat in the only chair on her side of the desk, landing with an audible noise in surprise. Her body was heavier now. Of course sitting felt wrong. Jones grunted before sitting in his chair, his presence formidable even with his wings unopened. He began jotting down notes, not looking up at her for a long, stretched pause of silence. Emma fidgeted uncomfortably, one foot bouncing on the floor. 

"Stop that at once," Liam growled, his eyes narrowed.

Emma stopped, hissing out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I just -" 

"How did this happen?" Liam interrupted, gesturing at her with clear disgust. "Dr. Mullins indicates it was against your will? You haven't been sexually active to induce conception? Explain."

"Well, I um -" 

"And I must remind you Miss Swan," Liam grimaced, marking something on his paper. "Lying to me is a crime itself. Perjury."

"Yes, I uh - I know." Emma nodded with a gulp. She took a breath, centering herself, and began to tell him the entire story of what had taken place with Gothel. He listened in absolute silence, writing the entire time as his frown only deepened. When she had finished, he continued writing in the oppressive silence, until finally flicking his eyes up to glare at her again. 

"Is that all, Miss Swan?" 

"Yes, then I, um, got the cramps -" 

"Spare me the sordid details of the consequences your illegal activity most likely caused," Liam drawled, sarcastically. He leveled his angry, burning gaze at her, and she felt like an animal being cornered by much larger prey. "Now, I have some questions for you. Answer to the best of your ability, but remember -" 

"Do not lie, yeah I remember," Emma said softly. 

"Who says you Witches can't be taught," Liam sneered, his voice mocking. Emma felt irritation bubble up in her gut, her surprise that Elsa liked this asshole rising. If he was a good inspector, Emma never wanted to meet a bad one. "Now. What exactly did this Gothel ask of you in exchange for her firstborn?" 

"Youthful beauty and a long life, I think," Emma stated, thinking hard. "She wanted to be young forever. I told her that it wouldn't be instant or eternal, that she would have to wait. Now I know why it didn't bother her."

"Did she mention any other rituals, Miss Swan?" Liam asked. 

"No, but she did say that she was in a time crunch." Emma shrugged slightly. "I don't know if that means anything."

Liam looked at her with more vehemence, still writing furiously. "Did you feel any effects at that time?" 

"No, I was surprised I didn't with the amount of magic that detonated. I checked myself twice to make sure, once with a warding bind even." The strangeness of the situation and her clear confusion due to it made her voice sound foreign to Emma's own ears. Did he know how much she didn't want this? "Nothing. Then boom, today I - today this. She showed her true colors at the end, did an evil laugh and everything." 

Liam hummed disapprovingly, looking over his notes. Flicking his eyes back to hers, he glared with contempt. "Let me make sure I have this all correct. So, you and this other Witch do a forbidden and illegal ritual -" 

"I had no idea it was going to be this illegal, I swear!" Emma began to feel panic, her heart racing. "I thought I was helping -" 

"Sure, sure, even though you already have a record -"

"That was - That was different, I was set up and I -" 

"It seems like you are awfully good at being set up, Miss Swan. So what did you get out of this?" The inspector looked at her in disgust, folding his arms against his chest. "A Demon child to experiment on? Heightened powers?" 

"No! No, I had no idea she would - I didn't know - I thought later on that she'd give me her unwanted child. I didn't want another kid to be unwanted. I didn't know the parentage - "

The inspector interrupted with a loud scoff, leaning forward and leering at her. "Likely bloody story." 

"Detective Inspector Jones, I swear to you, I swear it - I had no idea what… I had no idea this would happen. I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to get pregnant, I still don't know what to do."

"If it is a Demonic child, even only a half-breed, the best thing to do is give them up." Something painful twisted in her gut, a deep feeling of dread and wrongness. 

"I can't, I want to think about it and wait to look at options -"

"You can . You should . It will get easier the longer you are separated from the leeching thing." Liam's sneer turned into a look of pure disgust. "Don't wait, and get it out of you before it completely ensnares you in its unholy thrall."

"It's a child, sir, and my choice. I'm not making any promises -" 

"No Demon has ever been innocent, not even a baby. They are inherently selfish, cruel, and angry. Your mixed breed baby will be the same." Liam looked down at his feet, his fingers interlaced as he rested his elbows on his knees. His voice had lost the cruel edge, and Emma felt her superpower activate. He didn't believe what he was saying, and as she watched him, she noticed how tired he looked. 

"Inspector, are... Are you alright?" 

"Miss Swan," Liam chuckled darkly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing up to look at her. "If I was in your position, I would worry about myself, especially if jail time was on the table." 

Emma felt as if he'd slapped her, air rushing from her lungs as her heart beat rapidly. 

"Jail time?" She asked in disbelief, "What about Gothel? Why are you demonizing me -"

"That is government business, Miss Swan." Liam stood stiffly, rummaging in his pocket. He fished out a card, carefully sliding it on the table towards her. "If you remember anything, contact us. Otherwise, we will be in touch. I'll have the nurse give you the proper paperwork and instructional pamphlets."

He turned, pushed the curtain aside, and Emma heard a soft whoosh of air indicating his exit. Looking down at her body under the scrubs, she cursed Eloise with every fiber of her being. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

  The first few nights were a string of blurry, anger, and grief strewn rampages. Elsa has taken her home, Emma unwilling to let David even see her until she had some space to take care of herself. She had sent a text, and after a lot of back and forth arguing surrounding his lengthy replies, David had conceded. 

  (She just couldn't right now. 

Not right now. Not yet.) 

A Celestial, or something similar. Most likely Demon, he had said. 

Gothel had not only gotten her pregnant, but with some Demon child that could be claimed by its monstrous father for who knew what awful reason. Emma shuddered at the thought, hands protectively resting on her small swell of stomach. Pulling them away as they trembled, she cursed her body and the invader that was making her feel so attached to it. Demons didn't exactly get along with any of the other demographics, but Witches and Demons had the most volatile relations amongst any of them. Her own child might grow to hate her, all because of how much Witches persecuted Demon kind. 

She could still… No. She would not terminate the baby this far along. Every part of her vibrated with the wrongness of the very idea, sending her retching into the kitchen sink. She gripped both sides of the basin, crying hot, angry tears as she came to terms with the parasite - the baby, the small baby, the life - occupying her body. As much as she tried to hate it, the only hate she could muster fell on herself and Eloise. 

Part of her felt crazed, crying in her bathtub, nauseated and afraid of every implication and outcome. Laying her head back on the tile, she wondered about what she was going to do. Rubbing her new bump slowly, Emma traced the curve. Sixteen months. A doubly long second trimester, and extended third, all while it changed with her body. Mixed children generally presented like their non-Demonic parent, and the pregnancy bond would be fierce regardless of species. Although it was doubtful at this point it was even in effect despite her behavior and thoughts, Emma smiled at the thought that she already felt attached to her baby. Her own family. 

Her brother was going to go insane, and her sister-in-law… Snow was always supportive and full of a positive outlook. Emma had teased her that it was an Elf thing, but her pointed ears would twitch as she blushed, and she'd mumble something about her plants helping. Smoking her pungent blends of cannabis could make anyone positive, and Emma was suddenly envious. 

Regina and the coven would be on the defensive, taking over everything in Emma's life without quarter. That would be another comfort, their careful planning and patience having gotten her this far through her difficult life. 

In the end, the coven, Ruby, and Snow were over shortly after her emergency summons, flying through her doorway. Ruby was a Werewolf Emma had befriended through Snow. While Regina disliked her, Emma didn't think she was any different than most humans other than her keen sense of smell and bluntness. It was these traits that immediately made it clear what was wrong. It would seem not everyone in their circles knew yet. That would take a few more days. 

“Emma,” Ruby whispered, horrified, her nose wrinkling as tears filled her eyes. “What did… Who did this to you?”

"They think it is a Demon, but it's almost definitely Celestial, or something with a dynamic gestational period due to magic." Just behind Ruby, the rest of the coven began appearing, all staring on her porch as Emma ushered them in. "Until I find out the father, I don't know, although most likely it's Demonic."

Regina's head snapped up. “A Demon? Emma, what do you mean dynamic -”

The women went quiet when Emma lifted her shirt to show them her bump, explaining everything. 

Emma laid her head in Snow’s lap after, feeling numb. Snow stroked her hair gently, looking at the others. Their coven was small, mostly women, but David and two other men were honorary members by means of dating or marriage. Anna picked at her braid, eyes wide, while Belle's mouth was still open from her earlier gasp. Mulan, Regina, and Merida were all business. 

“I'll hunt the Witch and her Demon pet down myself, and bring him back here. We can take turns peeling away his skin -” 

“Mulan,” Merida hissed, her curls bouncing when she nodded her head at Emma, who's eyes were welling with tears once again. 

“I thought… I thought I was doing something good ,” Emma burst into tears, sobbing into Snow, and Belle excused herself to fetch the whistling kettle from the stove. Pouring everyone tea, they tried to figure out what to do. 

“Well, you certainly can't go hunting skips,” Regina scoffed. “And this house, I mean, I get that you fixed it up but it's a dump -”

“Oh! David would be happy to have you back on the farm with us!” Snow lit up, but the thought of being around their saccharine relationship and the smell of incense, patchouli, and skunky smelling herb had her running for the toilet. The others talked and sipped tea, planning out things as Emma curled up on her bath mat. Maybe it was better to terminate, if the leap in growth hadn't made it too late. Would it be better to give it up? Her mind filled with swirling ideas, and Emma let herself get lost in her sadness. 

Ruby snuck in a moment later, sitting next to Emma quietly. 

“So,” she whispered quietly, and Emma cracked open an eye to look at her friend's face. 

“So,” Emma rasped back, her throat raw. 

“Apparently, you're going to go live with Regina in the Guest ‘Wing’, yes, not room, ‘Wing’, and work at one of Belle’s bookstores. I tried to chime in with what your input might sound like. They looked at me as if I'd eaten Anna's familiar. Not like Elsa would let me snack on knock-off Rudolph anyway. Miss Ice Queen has her fancy new council to lord over, so who knows. We could have some reindeer snacks.”

Emma snorted, a smile breaking across her face. 

“Look,” Ruby started, running a hand through her hair to push back her straight brunette style. ”I know how important it was for you to be independent, Emma. I know you really cared about Neal, too. I just… There's something… There's something really off with this situation, and it's not just my nose saying that you smell weird, like dark magic weird, or my gut saying a Witch that makes contracts with Demons for a baby, knocks you up, then just up and vanishes is bad news. I want you to be safe. I called Graham on your telephone, and there's an opening at his precinct I think you might like. It’s mostly paperwork -”

“Rubes!” Emma laughed despite herself. “That's awesome, thank you-”

“Just listen. I want to meet this… Demon. I still have this feeling like something is really off, and you're neck deep in danger. Besides, you know, the Demon part of the situation. Are you sure that you can't remember, er… Well. You know?”

“No, it was literally one minute I was fine, then the next the worst period cramps of my life while I inflated. I was sort of Instant Knocked Up, just add magic or whatever.” Emma rubbed her temples, and Ruby sighed. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, Granny says that's most likely how I was conceived too.” Ruby flashed her a smile, and Emma laughed, hugging her friend tightly. 

“I don't know what I would do without you, Rubes.” 

“Look, I'm pretty sure Graham isn't into a menage et trois with a preggo, but I'll broach the subject.” 

“You're ridiculous,” Emma laughed. 

“You wouldn't have it any other way.”

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

Months passed slowly as Emma waited for the other shoe to drop. Work at the station was easy, filing reports and making coffee not troublesome at all. Liam apparently worked somewhere in the massive complex, but Emma made no moves to seek him out or head to the detective offices. 

Her house was almost completely redone and brand new; the floors, walls, ceilings, and everything in between redone with the utmost care. 

  ("I refuse to let you live like this and represent our coven," Regina ran a finger along the mantelpiece, grimacing when it came up dirty. "Are you sure that you have to live here?" 

"What Regina means," Elsa shot her a glare as Regina shrugged, rubbing her fingers together, "Is that any of us would love to have you. Don't feel obligated to stay -" 

"But don't feel like you have to leave either. David and I would love to help you fix up the place, maybe have you make a few rooms?" Snow encouraged. David nodded, his arms crossed across his chest. 

Elsa clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh yes, you could make an apothecary room like the one you talked about, and a potion brewing room, a nice place to grow plants, a library -" 

"And we'd all pitch in, if you wanted to make a nursery?" Mary Margaret mumbled, almost shyly. "I wanted to throw a baby shower for you since we found out, but I didn't want to overwhelm you like I feel like I always do -" 

"Too late," Emma gritted under her breath, her friends already planning the event for her.)

  Emma actually had eased into the idea; at first it seemed absurd that they were planning for this when the whole situation was so strange. The father was still unaccounted for, even as the test results made it clear that the baby was of Demonic parentage. Sometimes Emma thought she could feel something, a little tug, the eerie feeling of being watched, or an emotion that wasn't hers flitting through her mind, but she dismissed them easily. More often, she was fascinated by the lack of information on the bond her and this child were supposed to have. 

Pouring over books, it was as if someone had removed or rewritten any passages about Demonic parenting, specifically with a non Demon parent. She had found minor information on the bond in a few books. It was supposed to be fierce, the instinct making women hysterical and unreasonable. It only got more intense when the father was around, cases of actions deemed feral surrounding the mixed couples she had managed to find. All of them had ended in tragedy, and Emma eventually found herself unable to stomach reading about them. 

Or anything really, food was enemy number one on baby's list, unless it was deep fried, covered in sugar, or drenched in sweetness. Without shame, Emma had managed to eat and keep down an entire jar of marmalade with crackers. 

When Snow, Elsa, and Ruby's grandmother had brought up the food options they would make if Emma would let them throw her a shower, she had caved. 

  ( "I will make you a bear claw cake, mini grilled cheese, and onion rings, amongst other things," Granny grinned. "And I will crochet you the most darling blanket for your little girl."

Emma tried not to drool, or give in. "That's nice, but I don't think I want that many people here, you know? That detective is watching my every move, I feel like a whale, I never know which food will agree with me -" 

"And I will make sure I have a never-ending hot chocolate drip for you." Granny's eyes twinkled, full of mischief. "With toppings."

"Including cinnamon?" Emma asked, unable to disguise the longing in her voice. Granny nodded firmly. "How did you know? Wait - did you say a girl -" 

"I just know," she shrugged. "Call it a wolf's intuition." ) 

It was supposed to be small, just a few people and family, but somehow it had turned into a full on social event. Emma was grateful that she had added a few rooms in the days before, the space sorely needed regardless of how drained she felt. Even still, she loved the house. It actually felt like hers, the exposed beams and vintage fixtures mixed with tapestries, framed art, and treasured photos. Her herbs dried above a large sink, food was spread along a long bar and buffet sideboard, and people milled around her living room that she had adjoined to two more exact copies through her doors. 

No need to be original there.

( Her private door stayed tucked away in the upstairs hallway, and it was unable to be unlocked by anyone but her. 

That was more important than a few extra rooms she could collapse after these people were gone. ) 

Emma was a good sport for the first couple of hours, playing games, being paraded around to people who apparently were important in the city, and sipping hot cocoa. Elsa, Regina, Mulan, and Snow were putting emphasis on her innocence, and although it was a spectacle, Emma hoped it would work. 

Two very terrible things ruined her mood. 

At some point, Elsa fell away from Emma's side, returning as cake was being cut. Her face was pinched, irritability written across it as she glared down at the slice she's given. 

"You okay?" Emma whispered, and Elsa blinked, looking up in surprise. 

"Oh, yeah. I just - I thought my date might show up, but he's working." Elsa gritted out the last word, anger seeping into it. "He's on this case, and it's important to him because it's family related, but I want him to understand that I have family too, and I could help if he just -" Throwing up her hands, Elsa groaned in annoyance. 

"I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about -" 

"Emma," David pulled her up by her arm, looking around as if checking for something. "Kitchen. Now."

There's no time to protest, his grip strong and firm, dragging her into the kitchen. 

"David, what the fu -" 

"That detective was here, asking about you," Regina hissed, pointing out towards where guests milled. "We made sure he left, but he was asking questions."

"Questions?" Emma repeated, fear gripping her. Elsa walked in, listening to the conversation beside her. 

"Like, if you had a history of criminality, if you knew and associated with undesirable magic users, if you knew who the father was or were protecting who did this to you," David said. The stillness around them seemed to tense just as they were. 

"If he questions you, you make sure to tell him that you know nothing," Elsa whispered, trying to hold her hand. "Make sure you proclaim your innocence, and he'll believe you, he has to -" 

"You think I haven't tried?" Emma ripped her hand away, looking at all of her friends with annoyance. "I agreed to this not knowing it was going to serve as some bullshit trial ball, where I'd be judged like this. I've searched everywhere for that woman, I have nothing to hide. She's disappeared, and not like a new identity in Guam disappeared, no. Like, off every plane of existence without a trace. It wouldn't matter if I did find her, because this is my kid. The bonds of the spell make her of my blood more and more every day. I can't just go back to the way things were - "

"What about the father?" Regina asked. 

"I don't know. I know nothing about him or why he hasn't come. As far as I know, he might not. I don't know how he couldn't feel these binds. I know I feel something, but it could be because I'm practically mooing, I'm so huge, and I have these crazy urges. The hormones alone here are making me feel insane, even before you started in on me. Even before that asshole showed up because we have the entire damn city here!"

"I told you this was a bad idea, Regina," Snow mumbled. Regina glared in return. 

"We - I just want you to know that no one will judge you for not wanting this, or for giving up the baby -" David said weakly. 

"Shut up David," Emma growled out. Her hands rested against her stomach and she felt like she was going to fall over. "Right now, shut up and do not go down that road." 

"Emma, it's making you feel attached," Regina said gently. "And if I'm agreeing with him, you know I - "

"I mean it, not another word. I'm keeping my baby, that's it. End all, be all. Say another word and I will curse your tomatoes," She pointed at David, then rounded on Regina. "And hex your wardrobe with bleach stains that don't come out. Try me."

"Fine!" Regina threw up her hands while David grunted. 

The kitchen went silent, the tension palpable. 

"We got you a really nice layette," Snow offered, trying to clear the awkwardness while smiling. "Come open gifts, and look at all this cuteness. "

Emma begrudgingly moved forward, her eyes widening at the mountain of gifts in front of her. 

"Don't worry," Anna whispered as she pulled Emma down to sit. "I'm writing your thank you cards for you."

The crowd thinned after gifts, the night trickling on as the house emptied. If Emma had felt drained before, now she felt completely devoid of energy. The small crowd that's left hadn't bothered her, so when Snow and Regina asked her to do another walk about with them, it seemed safe enough. 

She saw him out of the corner of her eye, his head nodding, laughing at something in his self absorbed sly little chuckle that makes her want to break his nose. She must have tensed because Snow was beside her and sucking in breath harshly through her teeth, the coven turning as if they could all feel the disturbance. 

( Maybe they can, maybe the unbridled audacity of this man being here with another woman as he laughs with a martini glass in his hand is enough to share one collective experience of hatred. His eyes meet hers and he gives her a smirk that screams pity and humor at her expense as he lifts his glass toward her, mouthing congrats ) 

A figure cut in front of her, and her rage that feels like a sickening punch in the gut is coupled by this smack in the face - Neal's father grinned at her, his cane on the ground while both hands rest on its handle.

"My my my, Miss Swan," Gold smirked the same smirk that she wants to rip off his face. "When we heard, we were so surprised to not receive an invitation to this… quaint event of yours. Truly poor manners when our covens are no longer supposed to be at odds."

Regina and Elsa were there in front of her in a flash, Snow pulling her away, words being exchanged in hissed tones. Emma could barely hear over her heartbeat, over the sound of her stomach screaming at her to vomit. 

"You can protect her all you want, but we know what she did. We know what it will be," Gold's voice slithered over her skin even in the bathroom. "You can't redeem her, and she will be the reason for all of your downfall. Enjoy your council while it lasts."

David shooed everyone out when Emma hastily retreated, the entirety of her patchwork family pushing inside to comfort her. 

  ﾟ・.  ｡・. *✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ*⛧*.・｡*ﾟ.★.・.・✫*.・。.・゜

After the disaster of her shower, Emma began to feel the strange feeling of being watched even more. It became especially noticeable at night when she rocked in the nursery, sorting out piles of gifts. It felt like a presence sat beside her or hovered over her shoulder, and it began to follow her into her dreams. 

They didn’t last after she woke, glimpses of a mirror, of the sound of pounding, a muffled voice that she can't make out. 

The tip of the weird iceberg happened when Emma had gotten out of the shower, the steam in the room rising to fog the mirror. Dressing in pj's and heading back in to blow dry her hair, she had been dancing along to some new pop song by the Wolves of London, when her eyes caught the words.

On the fog of the mirror, her name had appeared backwards, joined shortly by the word 'Help' in a curling script that she blinked at in confusion before they disappeared. 

( A baby, a Witch, and a Ghost. Just what she needs in the never ending chaos that has become her life ) 

Luckily, the Coven can save her ass again. 

Regina glared at Emma, her judging silence lay heavily over the room. She crossed her arms, eyebrows pinching into further scorn, before asking again. 

"You want me to do what?" 

"Look, I know it's not your favorite thing to do, but you can and I don't have the gift or a guide like you do -" 

"That doesn't make it any easier!" Regina threw up her hands, then gestured to her pantsuit clad form. "It's my body, and my mother is just -" 

"I am begging you, Reg. Begging. You." Emma moaned, irritated. "The father is a complete mystery, there's a ghost in my house that I think has to do with him, and I'm scared it could be someone like…" Trailing off, she chewed her lip. 

Liam's increasing push for her to choose adoption had thrown her off her game these last few weeks, his phone calls almost non stop. In a way, he was right. She wasn't the only parent, and she certainly wasn't ready to be a mom. She was no one, absolutely nothing. It wasn't as if she could raise a baby. 

(Even if she wanted to, and the idea of her baby, her family enveloped in the family she chose and created, it made her feel nothing but happiness) 

Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. "Fine. Fine!" she snapped, slamming her hands on the table. "I do this for you, and you owe me. I expect you to be at my whim for this."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And I'm not doing it for long." She shuddered. "Every time I check out and she checks in, I feel so just -" She shuddered again, making a gagging noise. 

(Regina had done it before for David and her, to say goodbye to Ruth. It had hurt, hurt so badly, but not as much as Cora cutting the reunion short to tell her daughter to do more cardio.)

"I promise, we find his grandma or cousin or somebody, maybe whoever wrote that on my mirror, get the lead, and we're done." Emma nodded. 

With another sigh, Regina laid her hands over the table, palms up, and Emma laid her own over them. A lavender spark shot from their joined hands to the air above them, Regina's head falling back while purple smoke began to pour around the table, permeating the air. Regina shook slightly, before violently snapping her head forward and blinking. 

"Emma Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure of being ripped from my study?" A higher, nasal, woman's voice spoke out from Regina's mouth. "My daughter feels chubbier, and her skin is just -" Regina touched her face, making clucks with her tongue. "Oh, she is a mess! Did she break it off with that awful Warlock? Ugh, is she stress eating? I try not to pry, but I know she ate at least one slice of chocolate cake when she was out this last week -" 

"Cora," Emma gritted out, closing her eyes in frustration. "Cora, Regina is fine. If she wants to discuss her love life with you, she'll call you up on the Ouija. I need your help to find someone, and I don't know the someone."

"Well, aren't you in a pickle."

"Please Cora, it's not just for me!" 

"Oh, you're not interested in Regina are you? Because you are much too low a class for her breeding -" 

"Oh Merlin, no, no!" 

"What is it then?" Cora sighed in a bored drawl. "I've told you I can't find your family if they don't want anything to do with you, I -" 

"No." Emma let her chest fall, speaking quietly. "No it's not that. I remember from last time and I have a family now." Emma took a deep breath, pushing back against the hurt in her chest. "I need to know… I need to know who the father is, and I'm having trouble. I need you to see if you can reach a relative, or friend, or someone who knows why his offspring is inside me, as well as what it is. I got a visit from a ghost, so here we are."

"Oooooh!" Cora squealed. "An enceinte pregnancy Miss Swan? An illegitimate baby? A haunting? How very risqué and daring on your salary!"

"Cora!"

"Fine, I'll check. I'll want the details of this though, so don't spare any of the juicy bits." Cora winked with Regina's face, before the woman's body went slack. After a minute, her head lifted back up, blinking slightly. "Well, Emma, what a doozy this is. This woman will not stop talking, and it's absolutely ridiculous how impossible she's being, even if she is ancient looking. Yes, I said ancient looking - well don't get mad at me, I tell it how it is - oh, I don't care who your son is, he can't be that grand if he's knocked up this wreck. Sorry Emma dear, I love you, but I mean," Cora shrugged, unabashedly. 

"Cora, ask her what her name is!" Emma hissed. 

"What's your name then? Oh, that's interesting. Not as good as Cora, or Regina -" 

"Cora!" 

"It's Milah. And she's not his mum, she's - oh he's an ex lover of yours? Juicy juicy! Sounds like Emma dear might be getting leftovers then? Oh don't be like that -" 

"I need a name Cora, this is so -" 

"I'm trying Emma dear, the woman won't shut up about her sweetheart. No - Really? The scandal, but - well that is so weird! Milah says that he's been hidden somewhere and no one is haunting you, but… Ugh! She's speaking so rapidly - yes, I get it, but if he wants the kid he would have come to get it, or - I am listening to you, you're not listening to me! A mirror? You should look at one, why do I have to tell her about a mirror? I mean Emma's at most average, and look at her figure now. A child will do that to you." Cora sighed, and Emma stiffened. Cora seemed to nod for a moment, before Regina's face soured further. 

"Don't get smart with me, you may be an old soul but you died far younger than I did!" Cora growled, her eyes slitting at some unseen target. She turned with her head cocked, looking at Emma with pity. "I'm sorry Emma, sweet little duckling, but this woman is a nightmare. She keeps screaming at me about how this Killian fellow is the father, but it's impossible for her to see him for whatever reason. Something about a mirror? She's also absolutely ancient, I haven't seen clothing like that outside of - Pre-Babylon? Is that the robe designer or…? Don't look at me like that miss bed sheet toga, I - Emma, this woman, I swear! It's just incessant chattering, really - "

"His name is Killian? Cora, wait, don't you -" 

"I understand that you were crazy in love with him, trust me, you seem crazy Milah dear. Yes, Killian is his name. A Demon of lust for vengeance. Wow, Emma, what a winner!" Cora snickered, and Emma resisted the urge to shriek. "Well, I don't care if the beast is misunderstood, he's a Demon. How touching, now please - oh come now, Gothel in the tower with the mirror? Red spire, Troll falls? What is this, Clue? Do I look like a detective?" Regina's eyes rolled, Emma desperately trying to remember the snippets that might make sense. Gothel, tower, mirror, red spire, troll falls. Killian. 

Cora grew louder, her voice rising in pitch. 

"Oh, how dare you! I'll have you know your cheap robes aren't exactly chic either; you need a wardrobe update, badly! You look like a ten cent frat party attendee!" Cora spat, and Regina's face pinched tight. "Excuse me? More important things, WELL , I never - Oh you rude little tart, I've had enough!" 

"Please Cora, no, I -" Emma attempted, but Cora flipped Regina's hair back, sniffing with haughty indignation. 

"It'll be alright Emma, duckling. It seems that your little orphan persona is perfect to parent this little babe! Shut up! No, I'm done with you, you crazy broad. Go back to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and buy some new linens!" Cora hissed, her mouth curled in an ugly snarl. "Anyways, Emma, just accept that you can't ruin a child to be like you if you're giving them a home, even if their father is some failed Demon. Or something inspirational, I don't know." She shrugged, Regina's shoulders going up in a blasé dismissal. Her eyes snapped to look behind Emma, her face contorted in rage. 

"Cora. I am begging you - " Emma tried again, but Cora's focus was elsewhere, on someone unheard and unseen. 

"Shut it, shut up thread count Cleopatra!" Turning back to Emma, she smiled serenely. "Tell Regina to summon me later, I need to know how she is. And tell her no more sweets, especially if she ever wants to be a wife. Ta!"

Regina fell forwards, her body shuddering as the lights flickered, purple smoke dissipating into the air. She moaned lowly, cracking her shoulders and neck as she rolled backwards. 

"Dammit!" Emma exclaimed, sitting up and violently stalking to the fridge. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" 

"Ugh, I can taste her perfume. Bring me a beer please," Regina groaned. Emma pulled a beer and a soda out of the fridge, giving the beer to Regina. "Emma, don't you ever say that I don't love you after that." Regina shuddered again, flicking her hand to open the beer and drinking down half of it in one go.

"I know you do. You just have… You're just abrasive with it. Like a big cat, or an alligator."

(Or a wood chipper wearing lipstick) 

"Shut up, and tell me how it went. Was it worth it? Mother never is, but -" 

"She, uh, well she got me some information to go on. So, that's something." Emma averted her gaze, licking her lips. 

"She talked about my weight, didn't she," Regina sighed. When Emma said nothing Regina drank the rest of the beer and walked to the kitchen, depositing it in the trash. Pulling out a wine glass, she reached under her cabinet and produced a bottle of wine. Emma raised an eyebrow. "Don't even start on me."

"I wasn't going to," Emma whispered. 

Laying her palms flat on the countertop and bowing her head, Regina looked up after a moment's pause. 

"So, what now?" She asked. 

Emma chewed on her lip, thinking hard. "I have his name, or at least I think I do. I think all that's left is to, well, summon him."

(Summon him, and say what? 'Hey, Mr. Demon, I'm having your kid and thought you might like to know', as if it would care, or want anything to do with her...) 

Regina's eyebrows shot up. "Not alone, surely -" 

"No. I would ask Snow, David, and maybe Mulan and Belle. I know Belle would be delighted, and she has the spellbooks."

"That actually sounds like a relatively good plan." Regina nodded, then took a sip of her wine. 

"Don't sound so shocked, Regina." Emma grumbled. 

"Miss Swan," Regina smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "If you ever cease to stop shocking me with your antics, I'll assume I have gone to meet my mother and maker."

[heonymilktea]

All I Ask

w.c. 1.5k

genre/warnings: non-idol!au, best friend!jackson, last minute confessions, weddings, slight angst, childhood friends, dancing, imagining jackson in a suit, playful teasing

“I can’t believe it,” he hummed as he claimed his spot next to you on the balcony, his eyes focusing on the sun setting into the city’s skyline, glass and neon signs interrupting the final golden rays of the day.  

“What? That I’m the one getting married first?” You teased him softly, your eyes shifting from the pink cotton candy clouds to your best friend sitting next to you. 

Though, your words were less so teasing than a diversion from the nerves that bubbled at the pit of your stomach. You did mean it though, many people who had known the two of you as you grew up always thought that Jackson would be the one settling down and getting married first— you included. 

But here you were, sitting out in your hotel the day before the wedding, the day before your wedding. 

“My best friend is getting married,” Jackson decided to pull out his theatrics, putting the back of his hand to his forehead as he pretended to faint before letting out a giggle when you smacked his arm. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you couldn��t help but to let a chuckle at his antics of trying to you to calm your nerves— both of you had always relied on each other to help the other feel better.

“Do you remember when…” he began retelling a memory of you when you were kids in middle school, when your mom had brought up how you had to learn how to cook and clean for when you would have a husband and family to maintain— you had blatantly rejected the idea of getting married, much less the idea of having to date someone, opting to build up your plan on world domination (it hadn't gotten very far but it was still a good back up plan whenever you might need it).

Jackson bringing up that memory had only fueled your tendency to spiral down your nostalgia lane and bring up other memories that you had shared over the many years of you being best friends. 

Eventually, you had brought up the very thing that had begun it all, it was a memory you were really fond of after all it had been the thing that led you to be where you were now. Many of the memories brought out laughs of embarrassment from each of you, thinking about how ridiculous and childish you both were back then, when the only thing that you had to worry about was what you’d have for lunch and whether a pop quiz would come up during math class. 

Thinking of how you were getting married in less than a day only brought the thought of sharing a private memory up, it wasn’t like it would change anything now— anything that you were going to tell him now were just feelings of the past, you were going to marry the love of your life tomorrow.

“Y’know,” you chuckled at how silly you had been when you were going through it, “It’s kind of insane to think that I used to have the biggest crush on you during our second year in high school. I had completely pushed it away though, everyone was always like ‘you two are going to get together and married when you're older’ and I completely denied it, because it was the thing that you always saw in dramas and I had absolutely hated it.  

It really didn't stop me in uni, though, then I was thinking something more of convenience than love, I was done with being people that always broke my heart and left. You never did, so wouldn't it be better if we just got married as best friends and lived in a huge house together? We wouldn't have to suffer with exes and people leaving, we would have each other like we always do. And then we went off to be actual adults with jobs and bills, we grew up and I found him.” 

So I guess we were always meant to be best friends somehow right? If I could find the one in Woohyun, you'll find the one for you too. We can be those best friends that move in next to each other and our kids could grow up to be best friends too." You smiled adoringly at the thought, your kids and your best friend’s growing up to be best friends themselves. 

The smile that had been on Jackson’s face had slowly disappeared as he registered the memory you had revealed to him, realizing that things could have gone very much differently, he quickly covered it up though, not letting you see the waves of conflicting emotions hitting him.

 “Does that mean you’re going to name your son after me?” He had asked playfully, bumping his shoulder into your own. 

You only gave a small snort before pushing him away, “Why would I want to name him after you?”

He gasped dramatically, acting offended before pushing you back and running away from you, making you chase after him. It had been his way of distracting you from your nerves about what would be in store for you tomorrow while also being a distraction from his thoughts of ‘what if’ popping up.

Even though he had left your room early to let you sleep (he claimed it had been because he didn’t want to be the one to blame for any eye bags that you might get on your wedding day of all days) Jackson was the one who had been so restless for the entire night. 

He should have been happy for you, but why had he felt his stomach churn at the thought of it now? The only thought that plagued him the entire night was that he could have been the one you were going to get married to if he had said something. 

“I do.”

Those two words shouldn’t have had as big of an impact on Jackson, but they did— especially after what you had revealed to him the day before. Because if he had said something, anything, before you had gotten together with your husband, Jackson would have been the one to slip a ring onto your finger, not him. 

But there he was standing on the sidelines as he watched the other invited guests cheered for you, watching as you walked out with your now husband— probably on your way to the reception. 

Jackson could see a sparkle in your eye as you looked at Woohyun that had never been there before, the voice at the back of his mind reminding him that it could have been him if he had said something earlier, but it had been too late for it now. Though he kept a smile on his face, this was supposed to be a day about you and your wedding, there wasn’t a place for him anymore— well not the place he wanted at least. 

He would’ve said he had done a pretty good job at pretending for most of the reception, talking to other guests and bringing up old memories until it had been time for the typical wedding dances— meaning that he would have to dance with you, also meaning that it would be the first time since your confession that you would actually be face to face.

He felt his heart begin to beat quicker as the time for him to dance with you got closer— while the other guests were watching with awe as you shared your first dance as a married couple with Woohyun, Jackson felt his mouth begin to dry out. 

“You look beautiful,” Jackson managed to spit out, focused on the way your hand wrapped around his arm while the other was clasped in his own. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, “You clean up pretty well as the best man, Jacks.”

He let out a small chuckle as he continued to sway with you in his arms, focusing on how light he felt during this moment with you, “I can’t outshine the bride on her wedding day now, can I?”

“Oh shut up,” he felt you squeeze his arm, a small laugh escaping your own lips, “But really, I’m so happy that you’re here for this, for me. I wouldn’t have gotten here without you.”

“You would’ve gotten here eventually, you’re smart enough to do it on your own,” he murmured, etching the memory in the making into his mind and into his heart, “... thank you for giving me this memory to hold onto.”

Even if he couldn’t be the one to have spent the rest of his life by your side, at least he now had a memory to keep to help his own heart move on, and maybe you’d be right, maybe one day he’ll find the one for him.

Though even his heart knew the one was you. 

[taeguboi]

BTS Crush On You: Truth or Dare [Jin version]

I decided to make another series to keep myself occupied with as I also make my other series ‘a care package to you’ 

This one is a mixed sleepover with the boys and some of your girl friends in which [member’s name] has a crush on you.

I seem to keep starting with Jin hahah oops oh well

Crush On You: RM // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

Care Package To You: RM // Jin // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

New Fiction Masterlist here

The initial scenario

Tonight had been planned for ages. You, all your girl friends and the boys. Everyone had been so busy lately with their heavy schedules of work, studying, the lot and everyone agreed that on the next night they were all available, you’d have a sleepover at one of your friend’s shared student houses (which was to be free with it being the holidays,) just like old times and to take time out from your young adult lives.

For some reason, you were never too old to be playing the classic game of truth or dare. In the spacious living room, already in your pyjamas, the group of you sat in a wide circle, some on the floor, some on the sofa, and sleeping bags were scattered everywhere. Many drinks had been consumed and now a space in the middle had been cleared for one of your empty bottles.

One of your friends spins the bottle and you all watch to see who it chooses….

Dare

“Alright, Seokjin-hyung…” begins Jungkook as the bottle spins to the eldest boy’s direction. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare” replies Seokjin.

“I dare you… to kiss y/n” says Jungkook, knowing something that the rest of you don’t. 

A while ago, Jin had accidentally let it slip out to Jungkook when the former had had a few to drink after the two were at the end of a night out with you and y/f/n. 

They had just seen that the two of you got to your door safely from the taxi and throwing themselves back into the taxi, Jin started acting a bit what Jungkook thought as odd.

“She’s a good un’ that one” began Jin.

“Who? Y/f/n?” asked Kook.

“What? No, I mean Y/n” slurred Jin.

“So you’re saying y/f/n isn’t a, quote, ‘good un’’?” chuckled the younger.

“You… you know what I meant” sighed Jin, feeling rather sleepy sat on the taxi seat, his head wobbling with the bumps of the road.

“I suppose… So did something happen back there? I mean for you to be talking about specifically y/n like this…”

“I wish!” boomed a drunken Jin then becoming aware of the volume of his voice. Jin cleared his throat, opened his eyes, sat up and started again. “What I meant to say is… she’s… nice… you know….”

“Oh my goodness, Seokjin! You have a thing for y/n….” replied Jungkook only to be interrupted by a prolonged -

“SHHH!”

Ever since this little admission, Jungkook - only very occasionally - would tease his hyung. Whilst he kept it to himself, Jungkook would often startle Jin by the things he said, often putting the elder on edge that his big secret would get revealed.

At first Jin tried to laugh it off like ‘I was drunk’ and ‘I didn’t know what I was saying…’ but Kook knew better; he had always believed that a drunk mind spoke a sober mind and that when his friend was trying to laugh it off, there wasn’t an ounce of truth in his eyes whenever he tried to say he didn’t like you as more than a friend.

Back to the game, Jin could feel his heart flutter; he had always wanted to kiss you ever since he realised his feelings for you, but now it was actually going to happen, he had a sudden urge to make his excuses and leave the room. But he didn’t.

“Uh…” is all he can nervously say. “So, how do you, like, want to do this?” he asks you awkwardly, rubbing his neck.

Now this causes most of the group to laugh out loud. Not in a horrible way; Seokjin had kissed many girls and the group had him down as quite the expert on the subject… why was he being so shy now?

“Oh come on Jin, really?” laughs one of your friends, unable to believe what she just heard.

“Hey!” he exclaimed defensively. “I was trying to be polite!” he continues folding his arms.

You can’t help but join in with a small giggle because bless him, but then you interrupt the laughter. 

“Okay, thank you Seokjinnie for being so considerate” you smile, nodding excessively to prompt the noise to quiet down. You stand up and walk over to him and sit next to him as Taehyung who is sitting next to him shuffles over to make space.

The next thing Jin knows, you’re already initiating the kiss. Whilst he can hear a few of your friends going “wahey!” and all the rest, he suddenly feels like this whole sleep over is some sort of dream because of how surreal this feels.

But now he’s a little worried. Even whilst kissing you, all of his initial worries run through his mind but even more exaggerated. What if this makes the friendship weird? What if he acts weird? Are you even enjoying this? What if the look in his eyes after you kiss him gives everything away about his feelings?

Although all this runs through his mind, he actually manages to keep his cool because what you see and feel is a completely different story. You wouldn’t even guess that he is feeling flustered; no shaking, no general awkwardness, nothing like that.

Afterwards, Jin does his best not to overthink any of what just happened. After all, that wouldn’t be good for his brain, and after all… it was probably nothing to you.

Truth

This part is much longer than the dare lmao I’m sorry

It’s a few hours after the game of truth or dare and most of your friends have dozed off now, asleep in their sleeping bags or passed out on the sofa from staying up so late. Jin however, couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. It was only a dare kiss, so why was it everything he imagined?

You’re still sitting next to your friend Seokjin and you found you were having trouble sleeping after trying to at least doze off. Maybe it was the hard floor that made it difficult or the sudden shiver down your spine that made you feel chilly since 15 minutes ago… maybe it was something else.

You get up to pour a glass of water, hoping that someone else might be awake and show that they acknowledge you are, but there isn’t much response as you return to you sleeping bag - apart from a movement from Jin’s sleeping bag.

“Hey, ‘Jin?” you whisper, causing him to shuffle again. “Are you still awake” you ask in an even quieter voice.

“I’m awake” he replies, turning over to see you, eyes squinting a bit at the light still on in the room. He must have had his eyes shut longer than he thought despite not actually falling asleep.

“I can’t sleep” you tell him.

“Me neither”

“You wanna talk or something?” you ask unknowingly simply holding that glass of water… okay it was a beer, you got a beer instead.

Talk? You want to talk? About what? Inside, he panics a little, yet on the outside he manages to calmly reply “sure” as he sits up.

The two of you spend the next hour or so talking the night away about everything and anything. How this was a nice catching up session amongst your group of friends, stuff about your jobs and studies, how drunk Jimin got tonight and the antics he got up to, the latest episode of a tv series you both like.... How tonight was fun....

“You know what?” you say, grabbing your beer bottled which was emptied a good half hour ago now. “Let’s continue the game of truth or dare...”

“But everyone’s asleep y/n; there aren’t exactly many dares we could do that wouldn’t wake them up...”

“Well y/f/n seems to have fallen asleep with her phone in her hand, unlocked...” you joke

“Y/n!” exclaims Jin through his teeth “We’re not sending fake messages from our friends to their mums” he laughs softly.

“Okay, okay...” you sigh, a little disappointed despite your idea being in jest. “How about we take in turns, just truths?”

“Alright then” replies Jin, no idea how he’s managing to keep his cool, though he can feel his cheeks heating up a little.

“Would you rather...”

“I thought this was turth or dare?” he asks. “Well, truth or truth” he corrects himself.

“Well... you will have to answer truthfully” you reply, bringing a small smile smile to his face. “Would you rather be the funniest person in the room or... the most intelligent?”

Before he answers, Jin involuntarily has a quick something of a reality check. You’re talking normally to him, he can talk normally to you. He can and will just talk to you as a friend and not worry about this. He will just be himself.

“Aren’t they really one in the same?” he asks puzzling you a little.

“Are they?” you question.

“Yeah, to be funny, you have to have some intelligence, right?”

“What about slapstick comedy?” you fire back at him.

“What about the fact that I am already both of those things and therefore I don’t need to choose?” he jokes, placing the back of a hand under his chin to pose.

“Modest!” you chuckle. “Alright I’ll leave the ‘would you rather’ thing for another time... Let’s see...” you hum trying to think of a question, and then you can’t help but wonder about earlier. You aren’t sure why this thought comes to you but you kind of wanna know...

“How was earlier for you?” you blurt out, mouth acting ahead of your mind.

“Shh!” he hushes you, not unsimiliar to the way the hushed Jungkook in car that night. 

“Sorry” you whisper apologetically, hand over your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry, sorry it was just a bit loud and it might have woken the others... Uh what I meant to say was....”

And then Jin stops again and his mind has another sort of reality check / epiphany; this is silly. He’s a grown man and he’s been living in this carry on of never talling you or even showing you how he feels, keeping it all inside, hung up on someone who might not even like him back in that way... is this one of those ‘now or never’ situations??

He hadn’t noticed how long he had paused for until you took him away from his thoughts by saying “Jin? Seokjinnie..??? Seokjin Kim..??” You wave a hand in front of his face, wondering if you can get him out of his trance. Is he just tired, or...?

“Sorry” he apologises again, gently moving your hand away from in front of his face and resting it down, leaving his hand on top of yours.

“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” he asks you.

In return, you give him a confused expression; what did he mean by that?

“Sorry, I’m royally fucking this up” he apologises - again.

“Okay, firstly just stop saying sorry” you nervously laugh because again, bless him.

“Okay, sorry” he replies making the both of you laugh quietly again.

“What’s up?” you ask

‘Right. Now or never’ he reminds himself internally and again, his thoughts put him on a delay and leave another silent patch.

“Please just answer the question” you plead as you start to worry if it was actually that bad for him that he doesn’t know how to tell you.

“Okay, it’s like this” replies Jin with a sigh to prepare himself to answer the question truthfull just as you had asked.

“Oh God, you hated it didn’t you?” you mumble with dread.

“No!”

“Shh!” you hush, mirroring the way Jin had just hushed you.

“So when you said did I enjoy earlier, you meant...”

“Yes, the kiss!” you quietly exclaim, getting impatient for the answer.

“And you’re sure it didn’t weird out our friendship?” he asks, still beating around the bush. However, he quits stalling upon seeing the unimpressed expression on your face. “Right... here goes... That kiss... that kiss felt... amazing” he admits, finally.

“Phew!” you sigh with relief. 

“I believe it’s your turn for our little game of truth or truth, so... I’d like to ask you the same question: How was earlier for you?”

“I... liked it too”

“Only ‘liked’ it?” he challanges with a smile. “Maybe I need to remind you of how earlier was for you...”

“Maybe you do” you smirk, almost mischeivous in the way you smile back at him.

“Maybe I do” he smirks back, hand hovering over your cheek.

You guide Jin’s hand to stay cupping your face, and you both lean in for first a quick kiss, then another short kiss, followed by grins on your faces, followed by more kissing...

...followed by one of your friends waking up. It’s Jungkook.

“Oh my god! Yes!” he blares excitedly. “Guys! Wake up! It’s finally happening!”

*******

Crush On You: RM // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

Care Package To You: RM // Jin // Suga // J-Hope // Jimin // V // Jungkook

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Partake of Me

You and Vergil are out on a mission when an insatiable hunger rears its ugly head. You would ask the handsome devil beside you to lend a helping hand if it wasn't for one problem...you haven't told him that you're a vampire. Can you resist the allure of his blood? Or will you give into the temptation known as Vergil Sparda?

This is my first time writing for a request. I hope it’s everything you wanted, my dear vampire anon! 

Prepare yourself for some blood and spice! 😘

The allure of the night sky never ceases to amaze you. A cluster of bright twinkling jewels swim in a vast sea of black while the harvest moon illuminates the surrounding buildings and roads with its ethereal glow. You remember the wandering walks in the middle of night during your youth, staring up at the stars in wonder as you imagine what it would be like to live another life besides your dreadfully boring one. Little did you know what twists and turns your life would take…for now you stalk the streets as a vampire, a true daughter of darkness, no longer living at all and in no way is your life boring anymore.

You have a deeper comprehension for all that goes bump in the night than most, embodying one of the many dangers that lurk in the shadows. Shortly after your introduction into vampirism, you travel around for a time and hone the skills your dark nature gifts you with…until one day you came upon an interesting opportunity in the paper. A shop called Devil May Cry is looking for mercenaries willing to do tough jobs that require supernatural and paranormal expertise. This piques your interest and you immediately call the number listed by the wanted ad. It has been a few months since then, and you quite enjoy the challenges that present themselves during this line of work. You especially enjoy the presence of a certain white-haired gentleman that frequently accompanies you on these jobs.

Vergil Sparda, the twin brother of the man who owns the shop, is no normal man. During your time with him you find him to be just as dangerous and deadly as you. It is being the kin of the demon known as the Legendary Dark Knight that gift him with powers you have witnessed for yourself multiple times. Well, that and his sword, the Yamato. You admire how calm and collected he is during battle, flashing and slicing through enemies with ease. It also does not hurt that he is easy on the eyes. His striking face and unwavering silver gaze never fails to trick you into believing you can breathe again…because the Son of Sparda is absolutely breathtaking.

Too bad he wouldn’t think the same of you if he found out what you truly are...

Your eyes roll at your sullen thought as you and Vergil make your way down a deserted alleyway. Both of you just spent the entire night investigating a lead for a mission in the older parts of this bustling neighborhood. When both of you fail to see the connection in the information you have gathered, Vergil suggests getting a couple of rooms at a nearby motel. That way both your minds may reassess the situation with a fresh perspective after proper rest. You gladly go along with this plan, longing to clean your guns and change your clothes. It also saves you from coming up with an excuse to find shelter from the dawn’s first light.

When you took the position at the shop you may have neglected to tell them about your vampiric nature. You have found through experience that one should always be careful with who you tell such a secret. And considering that the shop focuses on supernatural threats, you did not want to reveal what you really are in case they see your mere existence as a threat. It may be a bit presumptuous, but a healthy dose of paranoia always keeps you safe. You do not have the luxury of having someone watch your back in this solitary life.

But now you are regretting your decision to keep your vampirism a secret as the insatiable hunger for blood slowly builds up inside you. This is usually not a problem since you always bring plenty of blood packs with you during a mission, but when you check your travel bag they are nowhere to be seen. You forgot the one thing you need to survive, to keep you sane…and now you are paying for it as you summon all of your willpower to keep your hunger under control.

The handsome devil walking beside you does not help your endeavor as your mind obsesses over what his blood would smell and taste like. Your eyes wander over and steal glances at his collar, longing to tear it away from his neck and sample what the Dark Slayer has to offer. Vergil catches you a couple of times, making you turn your head away as you pretend to be surveying your surroundings with high alertness. Your insidious paranoia almost convinces you that he knows your secret.

He sees you for what you really are: a blight on the world that needs to be destroyed…

You shake your head, casting out all your fearful notions from your mind as you finally arrive at the quaint motel. Vergil scans your face with a critical eye, his silent way of asking you if everything is alright. You smile at his concern and nod your head. Being a vampire comes with its fair share of hang ups; such as always being paranoid no matter how safe you are…or the habit of obsessing over something you desire, driving yourself mad until you have it in your possession. You have the misfortune of currently suffering from both afflictions, craving the well-mannered devil holding the entryway door open for you while also afraid of him using the Yamato against you.

Your body shudders as the image of your fictional final death runs through your mind. The poor front desk clerk regards you warily as you ask for a room, completely forgetting that you usually ask for two rooms when you stop for the night at places like this motel. Vergil raises an eyebrow at this, but does not correct you as he peers down at you with those keen eyes. You avoid meeting his gaze and drum your fingers on the desk testily as the clerk puts you down for a room while going on about the amenities of the motel. As soon as the room key is in your hand you dash down the hall, doing your best to keep a normal pace as you walk straight to the door of your rented room.

As you raise the key to unlock the door your sharp sense of awareness detects the sudden presence of Vergil close behind you. “Y/N,” he addresses to get your attention. You look over your shoulder and lock onto his intense gaze, doing your best to ignore the overwhelming body heat emanating from him. “Are you well?” he questions, a bit of worry laced in his tone. “You seem…distraught.”

“What?” you mutter as your hand fumbles with the lock, distracted by the steady cadence of his heart beat close to your ear. “No, I’m fine. Just tired and frustrated. I just need some rest, that’s all.”

Vergil studies you closely. You know that your answer is weak, but it is taking all of your willpower to not latch your fangs into the irresistible neck currently over your shoulder. His eyes dart over to the key clinking against the handle as your trembling hand attempts to unlock it. He swiftly leans over and places his hand over yours, causing a series of shivers to cascade though your body from his warm touch. And his scent…like fresh snow first thing in the morning after a winter storm. It overtakes your senses as it begins unravel the last strand of control inside you. He gently guides the key to its proper place, slides it into the keyhole, and turns it for you.

“After you,” he murmurs in your ear. It takes you a moment to collect yourself, steeling your resolve against the temptation known as Vergil Sparda.

“Thanks,” you mumble as you bow your head and turn the handle of the door.

It almost pains you to step away from him as you enter the room. Your body is physically twitching as you examine the plain walls and furniture, taking note of the one lone bed in the middle of the room. Vergil closes and locks the door behind you before sweeping the entire room in his usual search for hidden threats or traps. You do not even bate eye at this as you set your travel bag down on a nearby table. If you had rented a second room you would be doing the exact same thing, except your search is for holes or crevices that may let sunlight in and promptly covering them up. When the room passes his inspection, Vergil heads over to the windows and starts to draw the curtains closed. Seeing the moonlight drift through the glass and illuminate his gorgeous profile stirs the ever-growing desire for him inside you. The calm beat of his heart, the feel of his radiating body heat, his amazingly intoxicating scent…

Your hunger demands to be sated…NOW.

You clamp down hard on whatever remaining power you have left to keep yourself from doing anything foolish, like jumping Vergil and taking what you want. That insatiable need clawing at the back of brain can only mean one thing…you are very close to entering a frenzy. Not good, not good. If you were to feed on anyone now you would most likely drain them of all their blood. You’ve really fucked up now. So, even if you put aside your fears and ask Vergil for some of his blood, you could not vouch for his safety. The very thought of causing fatal harm to him…

No. I cannot risk it.

Vergil’s imposing back is still facing you as he closes the last curtain, so you know he has not noticed your frantic state yet. I must not let him see me like this. Your mind hastily formulates a plan to put some distance between the two of you as fast as possible. You take your phone out of your travel bag as you conjure up a smooth lie. “I’m going to go outside and see if there’s better signal.” You walk over to the door and reach for the handle. “I’ll, uh…be right back.”

“Going out for a drink?”

Your hand pauses just inches away from the door as the room echoes with his confrontational inquiry. You glance sideways at the cocksure devil standing across the room. “W-what are you…talking about?”

Vergil turns around and faces you with a challenging glare. “I am no fool, Y/N…I know what you are.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vergil.” You turn away from him, whispering paranoia rattling your brain as you struggle to keep yourself together long enough to just get out of the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me-”

The distinct sound of the Yamato slices through the air. The hunger inside you turns into panic. This is it…this is how you meet your final death: at the hands of the man you adore deeply, despite being eternally damned. How fucking cliché can you get? you thought, knowing that in your weak state you stand no chance against him. You prepare yourself for the inevitable spiel of needing to cut you down and the biggest fight of your undead life.

A delectable scent wafts under your nose. Your supernatural senses become hyperaware as it focuses in the indistinguishable smell of strong, thick…blood. This blood triggers a memory…sitting with friends around a campfire in the dead of winter, laughing and sipping spiced wine. The hunger comes back in full force as your head swivels around unnaturally fast towards the source. Vergil’s left hand is gloveless. A deep gash has been cut into his palm as he holds it out, his blood welling up into a small pool. Just the sight it has you baring your fangs as you behold the tempting devil currently smirking at you.

“It seems I’ve injured myself,” he observes nonchalantly. The sight of his smug face angers you, but it also gives you a moment to reign in the hectic storm swirling in your head as you fight the urge to pounce him. You want to tear your eyes away from his redolent nectar, but they stay glued to his hand. There is no doubt that Vergil sees the feral glow of your eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room.

“Don’t…” you weakly plea as your body begins to tremble. “I can’t…”

“Would you be a dear and take care of it for me?” he taunts as his bloody hand tips ever so slightly. Your predatory eyes follow the lovely trail as it drips down, building and collecting at the edge of his hand before a single drop forms and begins to fall…

Instantly, your primal instincts kick in. Your phone drops from your hand as you lunge at Vergil faster than a bullet from one of your guns. He grunts as the force of your abnormally quick approach takes him off guard, sending him straight to the floor. You straddle his waist and grab his wrist, bringing it close to your face as you inhale its sweet fragrance. You sigh in ecstasy, slowly slipping into a hazy stupor as your body shivers in excitement.

“You’re a lot stronger than I anticipated.”

Vergil’s voice breaks you out of your hungry daze as you stare down at him. His fierce eyes meet your own predatory gaze as he props himself up with his free arm. He is oddly calm for a man who was just knocked to the ground by a bloodthirsty vampire. Your eyes widen in horror as you realize what you have just done and immediately let go of his wrist. Before you can even think about retreating, Vergil wraps his arms around in a vice grip, effectively trapping you against his body. You struggle against him a bit, trying to break free, but it is in vain as you used what last bit of strength you had getting within this devil’s grasp.

“Is the blood of the Son of Sparda not good enough for you?” he sneers by your ear, his grip tightening around you as your body continues to fight against him.

“No!” you wail. “Your blood smells…so good,” you admit as you deeply inhale the succulent scent.

Vergil withdraws from your ear and presses his forehead against yours, forcing you to stare up into his inquisitive gaze. “Then what is stopping you from partaking of me?”

You swallow down your fears, mustering up the courage to speak truthfully. “I’m…really low on blood and…really close to giving in…to a frenzy. I don’t want…to lose control and...” You trail off as the thought of hurting him makes your body shake uncontrollably.

“I am well aware just how hungry you are,” he affirms softly, the gentle tone of his voice taking you by surprise even in your crazed state. “Which is why I am offering my blood to you.” He lifts his bloody hand near your face. Your eyes shoot back to it instantly as you start to pant frantically. Vergil places his lips next to your ear again as he continues to encourage you. “It is too close to dawn and I very much like to keep my partner from becoming ash.”

“Vergil,” you whine as you look away from his hand, opting to stare at the ceiling instead of burying your face into the crook of his enticing neck. “I-I wouldn’t forgive myself…if I hurt you.”

“You will not hurt me.”

You shake head. “No, I can’t-”

Suddenly, your view flips as Vergil swings you around and anchors you down to the floor with his unbloodied hand by the neck. He traps your legs in between his muscular thighs as he stares down at you. “Stop being stubborn and take my blood,” he commands impatiently.

You vigorously shake your head again as your body wriggles underneath his weight, refusing to give in to his demand for his own safety. “I would rather burn to cinders in the sun than give myself the chance of harming you in any way,” you swear with total conviction as you feebly attempt to escape from his immovable hold one last time. Try as you might you cannot make him budge as the last of your strength wanes. You see his familiar scowl before closing your eyes, summoning every last ounce of control you have to restrain yourself from giving into his tempting offer.

You feel him lean away as a low rumbling growl fills the air around you. A few moments pass before you feel his hand cup your face, smearing warm blood onto your skin. You press your lips into a thin line as you desperately try to keep yourself together beneath your wicked captor. His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as his other hand loosens and slides to the back of your neck. All is quiet and calm. You convince yourself that Vergil has finally decided to end your suffering. But then, he quickly raises your head and you feel something press hard against your mouth…

His lips. Your eyes snap open as you gasp in shock. This proves to be your undoing though, as you suddenly taste liquid life pour into your open mouth. As soon as his blood touches your tongue the most gratifying moan escapes your throat. Your tongue starts to explore his mouth its own accord, searching for every last drop as your hands grip his perfectly slicked back hair. He lifts you up off the floor and moves your legs to straddle him as you sit on his lap, all while never breaking away from your ravenous kiss.

You purr in pleasure at this new arrangement as you begin to grind against him, lost in the taste of his demonically blessed blood. And Vergil does not just sit there and let you kiss the him into oblivion. You feel his hands roam over your arched back, your bent legs, and pert bottom as his hips meet yours with his own grinding thrusts. His tongue continuously challenges you for dominance, sometimes relenting to your ravishing tongue, and other times viciously pushing his way into your mouth to do some exploring of his own. Both of your growls mingle together to form a primal serenade, utterly intoxicated by its beat as your bodies sway against each other.

Vergil’s hybrid blood is very complex. Every time you think you got the flavor down another just bubbles up, demanding to be completely savored. The taste is reminiscent of the memory it evokes, dark fruity wine blending harmoniously with spicy cloves and sweet honey. You can even taste the smokiness, along with the surprising note of something floral…violets. His blood makes you feel exquisite as you relish every last sinful drop.

Eventually, all the blood in his mouth is devoured and your instincts scream for more. You tear away from his mouth, gasping from the intensity of his bloody kiss as you let your head fall back in pure bliss. Vergil’s arms wrap around you tightly, making sure you do not try to run away from him again. You see his velvety lips curve into a smug grin as he chuckles, extremely pleased that his diabolical plan has motivated you to give into him. A part of you wants to berate him for his deviously seductive ploy, but you can no longer resist the allure of his devilish blood while it courses through you.

Your hands relinquish their grasp on his hair as they glide down his neck and rest on the zipper of his vest. Vergil takes this as a promising sign. He removes his coat along with his other glove. You slowly pull the zipper as far as it will go without unbuttoning the outer lay of his vest. Your sharp eyes hone in on a pulsating vein underneath the smooth skin of his neck as you peel away the collar. It calls to you…beckons you to come closer…your face rushes in and nuzzles the crook of his neck, fangs scraping along that glorious vein but not baring down just yet.

You always get a thrill out of this moment, enjoying the feel of a warm trembling body in your arms as their heart beats faster in fear and anticipation. But this is different. This was no ordinary person you have in your embrace. This is Vergil Sparda, the devil who dares to stir the hungry lust of a vampire. His body does not tremble…it thrums with power as you feel his guttural growl through his throat. And his heart beats in anticipation, but you can tell there is no fear exuding from him…his very presence is thick with desire and arousal.

Vergil presses his lips against your ear as his hands rub your back. “Drink of me,” he whispers sinfully. “Take me inside you and get strong, my Evening Star.”

His wicked words are all the encouragement you need to stop denying yourself and finally give in. You hiss softly as you sink your fangs into his neck, moaning as his blood gushes into your mouth. Vergil grunts at your bite, hips thrusting up into you as he holds you close. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you begin to suck his blood, letting yourself get carried away by the rapturous waves of lustful satiation. You meet every thrust of his hips, grinding in time with every draw of his red nectar. The feel of his prominent erection through his pants as it slides over your aroused core adds a teasing tingle to the mind-blowing sensation of blood streaming through your body.

You lose track of time as you take your fill of Vergil's blood. By now, you would be sucking on dry and dead artery if he was a normal human being. But his heart beat has not even slowed…on the contrary, it seems to have slightly increased in speed since you started feeding. His heavy and labored breathing puffs by your ear as his hands explore every inch of your body again, slowly memorizing the plains and slopes of your deadly form. You moan loudly against his neck as his sensual touch brushes over your inner thighs and the curve of your breasts. There was no doubt in your mind…this is going to end with you writhing in pleasure around him as you take another part of him inside you.

You feel his warm calloused hand grip your hair and pull you away from your luscious feast. You snarl in displeasure at the interruption, but Vergil’s demanding lips stifles your angry protest. Your mouth instantly opens up to him, letting him taste his own blood as your sneaky hands flash across his chest and remove his vest in a matter of seconds. He purrs lowly in gratitude as he wraps your legs around his waist and swiftly stands up off the floor. You clutch onto his shoulders as he grabs your ass with both hands and squeezes you closer to him as he walks over to bed.

Vergil kneels and sits you down on the edge of the bed. His lips leave your mouth as he begins tearing your clothes off, kissing and licking every bit of skin he reveals. You groan as he lavishes your breasts with his demanding tongue, flicking and teasing your nipples. He glances up at you as he takes one breast into his mouth, nibbling and sucking it firmly. The feel of his teeth gently grazing against your sensitive skin has you gasping and sifting your hands through his hair, bringing his head closer to your chest as he gives your other breast the same treatment.

You cannot take his teasing anymore and snap into action. A feral growl leaves your lips as you use blood to boost your speed and strength. You tug Vergil away from your breast and pull him on top of the bed, hurriedly ridding him of his pants, boots, and underwear. He blinks curiously up at the ceiling as you hastily rip the rest of your clothes off your body just as fast, eager to ride the very hard cock currently on display for your eyes. Before you can mount him, a blur of blue pops up behind you. One moment you are standing by the bed, the next you are slammed on top of the covers.

It is your turn to blink curiously up at the ceiling as Vergil chuckles beside you. “Nice try,” he quips, shifting his body over yours as he peers down at you with a grin on his face. His hand brushes your cheek in wonder. Soft fingertips swipe the blood still smeared on your face and brushes it on your mouth, coating your lips in his unique shade of red. Your tongue peeks out and greedily licks your lips, not wanting to waste a single drop.

Your eyes dart over to your bite mark on his neck as blood trickles from it. The beautiful red streaks on his chest make your fangs elongate at the sight. A couple of drops drip down and land on your chest. This does not escape Vergil’s notice as he moves his fingers away from your mouth and swipes some of his dark nectar off your skin and offers it to you. His cock twitches between your thighs, making you whimper as your legs spread wider, inviting him closer as you suck his fingers clean.

Vergil growls as he moves closer over you. He nestles himself between your thighs and his hips begin to grind against you ever so slightly, teasing you with his cock as it slides back and forth over your slick entrance. You cry out in frustration around his fingers as your arms and legs pull him even closer to you, silently begging him to end this sweet torture. He chuckles softly as he removes his fingers from your mouth and takes your chin, pulling you up to meet his lips in a searing kiss. Your arms encircle his neck as his tongue pokes and prods the cavern of your mouth before breaking away and resting his forehead on top of your head.

“How do I taste?” he asks while staring deeply into your eyes.

You bite your lower lip in thought, unaware of your sharp fang pricking your tender skin. “Like warm mulled wine on a cold winter morning.”

“Mmmmm.” He nuzzles his face closer until his lips are a breath away from your mouth. “How strange. The way you describe the flavor…I wonder…” His tongue pokes out and swipes at your bottom lip, lapping at the fang currently puncturing it. You gasp in surprise, releasing your lip and giving his naughty mouth an opening. He captures your lower lip with his teeth and softly nibbles as his tongue continues to lick and taste a small sample of your blood.

You sob as your dripping core aches with need, rocking desperately against his hard length in an effort to relieve the tortuous tension. “Vergil…please…” you whimper softly as you push against his body in vain. He must be compensating for your strength because now you can barely move beneath his weight.

Vergil releases your lip and buries his face close to your ear. “I can feel your sex quivering,” he marvels as he pumps his hips, easing some of the tension between your legs as the deep tone of his voice sends chills down your spine. “Does the thought of me partaking of you make it ache for my cock?”

Your body practically buzzes with exhilaration at his intimate suggestion. “Oh fuck…” you mumble as your head turns to the side, already baring your neck for him.

Vergil chortles in amusement. “I admire your enthusiasm, my dear, but I need to hear it from your lips.”

You groan in annoyance as you glare at him. His silver eyes lock you into an intense gaze, waiting patiently for you to give the word. If you could still blush your cheeks would be as red as the blood staining your lips. You lean your face in and softly press a delicate kiss against his pouty lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would end up in your current position, underneath one of the most powerful and handsome men you have ever met, naked and wanting. Yet here you are…about to utter some of the most erotic words you have ever spoken as you stare longingly into his eyes.

“Drink of me. Take me inside your body as you become one with me, Vergil.”

The pupils of his silver eyes dilate dramatically as your sensual request flows from your lips. A long rumbling growl emanates from Vergil’s throat as his mouth slides down your neck, causing darts of pleasure to shoot straight down your core. You thread your fingers through his white hair as his lips pause over the crook of your neck and give a tentative nip. You bite down on your lip hard, holding back a pleading whimper as he positions the head of his cock at your entrance.

Vergil bites down hard on your neck just as he slams his hips forward, burying himself deep inside you. A satisfying yelp of pain escapes your mouth as you cradle his head close to your neck, your wet heat twitching delightfully around his generous length as he begins to steadily thrust in earnest. Vergil hums indulgently as he licks and sucks your neck, seemingly enjoying his own luscious feast. Your head falls back as a series of euphoric moans spills from your lips, the delicious feeling of his lips, tongue, and teeth along with the long strokes of his cock bringing you to rapid orgasm.

Vergil’s ardent pace never slows as he rides through your blissful orgasm, grunting against your neck as one hand slips under the small of your back and guides your hips into his thrusts to prolong your pleasure. Your legs squeeze firmly around his waist and your hands clench his hair tightly in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapturous ripples run through you. All your fears about being shunned by the extraordinary man currently above you melt away as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. You never thought you could feel so full, so warm, so…alive.

When you finally start to come down from your fervid climax, Vergil moves his other arm around your shoulders and scoops you up to sit astride his lap, hips never slowing their zealous drive as his relentless mouth nips and licks his bruising mark on your neck. The feel of your own blood trickling down your back and chest sparks your insatiable need for his blood once more as you begin to follow his lead, bouncing up and down in his lap as you eye your own bite mark close to your face. You strike out with your fangs during the up stroke of his thrusts, clamping down hard and drawing out more of his flavorful nectar. He growls fiercely as his hips pause for a moment, cock twitching slightly inside you when your fangs bare down on him.

Vergil’s teeth finally release their hard grip as he trails crimson kisses up your neck until he reaches your ear. “You taste like pomegranate cider on a warm autumn night.” The deep sensuous timber of his voice describing the taste of your blood evokes a whimpering moan from you as he goes on titillating you with his seductive words. “So rich…” His hands start caressing you, smearing your blood across your back. “So sweet…” One of his hands glide around to your chest, forming red lines as he fondles your breasts. “You are temptation made flesh and I cannot resist you.” His hand dips lower towards your abdomen, teasing you with his touch just above where you are joined with him.

"I want to consume all of you.”

A cry of passion escapes your lips as you feel deft fingers circle your delicate nub in a steady rhythm. You throw back your head and moan at the sight that greets you. Vergil’s mouth is completely covered in your blood, desirous eyes staring at you as he moves against you with renewed vigor. He grunts harshly as he pulls you into a heady kiss, tongues sweeping and tasting each other. Your hands leave his hair to do their fair share of painting, stroking and spreading his blood all across his chest as you feel your pleasure coming to a head again. It climbs higher, higher, and higher still…until you feel the distinct pulse deep within you clench down hard, causing you to break away from his mouth as you completely shatter in his embrace. It takes a few more hard and deep brushing thrusts before Vergil joins you, roaring and grunting as he releases his hot seed inside you.

Moments pass as you slowly drift back down from your pleasurable peak, panting and sighing in satisfaction. Vergil hums his own long rumbling purr of contentment as his hips gradually come to a stop. He cradles your shivering body against his chest, rubbing your back gently as the last remnants of your mind-blowing orgasm dies down. All is quiet and calm again, except this time you are not dreading your final death. Instead, you are positively glowing as your frenzy finally recedes from your mind, letting you think with clarity once more. You feel a tiny pang of guilt as you notice the really big bite mark on his neck. He did not show pain when you feed, but you still feel bad for being rough...so you decide to heal it. You carefully lick the mark clean, nuzzling the tender skin as the wounds fully close.

Vergil loosens his hold to appraise your appearance. He hums as his lips, still coated in your blood, curl up into a smug grin. “You’re looking quite sated now, my Evening Star.”

Your earlier agitation at him comes back with a vengeance. With great celerity you reach out for a nearby pillow without leaving his lap and give him a decisive smack aside his head with it. “That's for playing dirty,” you snarl as you show no mercy with the pillow. “You cocky,” whap! “Insufferable…!” whap!

He somehow manages to catch your speedy hand before it lands another hit. “I wouldn’t have had to provoke if you weren’t being such an obstinate woman,” he barks back as he rips the pillow from your grasp. You grumble irritably as he slams his lips against your clamped mouth, coaxing you with his tongue for entry as he lays you back down on the bed. He traps you under his muscular body once more as you resist him, giggling when you cannot deny him anymore and returning his kiss with playfully fervor.

“And,” he starts as he breaks away from your lips. “I don’t ever recall you complaining as you sat in my lap,” he notes as he gives your cheek a peck. “…having a feast that only one such as I can provide.” Another kiss lands close to his bite mark.

You roll your eyes, but do not argue since he is technically right. Damnable devil, you thought, lightly laughing as you survey the mess you have both made of the cheap motel bed. Blood stains are splattered all across the plain white sheets, but at least the bedframe is still intact. The air is heavy with the scent of blood as well. You inhale deeply, taking in that sweet fragrance before letting out a blissful sigh. Your skin starts to feel sticky as the blood you both painted on each other starts to congeal. Raising your head up to his chest, you playfully lick his nipple, catching some of his blood on your tongue.

Vergil grunts and shoots you an irritated glare. You smile innocently as your tongue takes another swipe, humming at the familiar taste. He lets out an indignant huff. Then he smirks and shakes his head fondly. “As much as I find the idea of you licking me clean intriguing…I believe a shower is in order.”

And with that he disengages from your warmth and carries you to the small adjacent bathroom. As you wait for the shower water to warm up you marvel at the lovely pattern his teeth marks made on your neck in the small mirror above the sink. He comes up from behind and wraps his arms around you, asking you how long it will take to heal. You explain that you could use some vitae to completely close the wounds in seconds, but you want keep it for as long as possible. He smiles at your words, kissing your temple before leading you into the hot shower.

While you both wash each you ask how he knew about your vampirism. He admits that it did not take him long to catch on, noticing details such as you not eating meals, your very pale complexion, and the very obvious fact that you refuse to work during the day. You wonder aloud why he did not confront you about it sooner. He just shrugs, saying it was not his concern so long as you continue to be a reliable partner. This makes your heart soar as you thank him for not judging you by your dark nature. He smiles softly as he turns off the water and pushes aside the flimsy shower curtain, helping you step out with a steady hand. Vergil grabs a towel and begins to dry you off. He tells you that he only judges someone by their actions. He also confesses that he believes you to be capable woman with a brilliant mind and a deadly aim with both guns and pillows. You giggle and let him know that his compliments would assuredly turn your cheeks pink if you were mortal.

When he is done drying you, he throws that towel back on the rack and grabs a fresh towel for himself. As he dries his hair you let him know that you are going to see what you can do about the poor bed. He wishes you luck as you head out of the bathroom in search of spare bedsheets. You find some in a tiny closet and set them aside as you get started on pulling off the bloody sheets off. Vergil soon steps out of the bathroom, his usual slicked back hair now down over his eyes, and he helps you not make a bigger mess as you deposit the soiled sheets onto the floor. Luckily, no blood made it onto the mattress, so you spread out a fresh sheet and blanket. You climb into bed and pat the spot beside you eagerly.

Vergil quirks an eyebrow as he slides in beside you. “You know,” he began as he pulls you close, “your unforeseen decision to rent only one room convinced me that you were finally going to reveal yourself to me.”

“Ugh,” you grumble when you remember your amateur blunder and begin explaining yourself. “I forgot to bring my blood packs, and by the time I realized my stupid mistake I was so close to snapping and…” You sigh as you look away in shame. “And I didn’t want to bother you with the burdens of my curse because I wasn’t sure if…I couldn’t-”

You feel warm fingertips take your chin and gently turn your head back to meet Vergil’s sympathetic gaze. “My demon heritage has many advantages,” he states as he cups your cheek and guides your face towards his wonderful neck. “…such as letting my vampire partner gorge herself without worry.” You nuzzle his neck before pricking his skin with your fangs, being careful not to make another mess as you gently suck his blood. He sighs in content as he pets your hair. For the first time in a very long time you feel comfortable, protected…safe.

“Partake of me always,” Vergil whispers close to your ear. “You don’t need blood packs for as long as we're together.” With one firm swipe of your tongue you close the modest bite mark before looking up at Vergil in surprise. His lips press an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “We must keep your fire burning strong, my Evening Star.”

“Why do you call me that?” you inquire as he grabs the blanket and snugly tucks both of you under it.

“It’s a reference from one of Poe’s works.”

“Poe? As in Edgar Allan Poe?” you question curiously. “Huh…how fitting that a dead dour man reminds you of me.”

“He wasn’t always full of gloom. Poe was quite the romantic as well.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes begin to droop you lay your head on his chest. “What about the…poem?” You feel him nod slightly to affirm your guess. “Is it romantic?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Vergil rests his chin atop your head. “Shall I recite it for you?”

“I would like that,” you say quietly, trying hard not to drift off as his lyrical voice paints a beautiful image:

'Twas noontide of summer,   And mid-time of night; And stars, in their orbits,  Shone pale, thro' the light Of the brighter, cold moon,  'Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens,  Her beam on the waves.    I gazed awhile    On her cold smile; Too cold- too cold for me-  There pass'd, as a shroud,  A fleecy cloud, And I turned away to thee,  Proud Evening Star,  In thy glory afar, And dearer thy beam shall be;  For joy to my heart  Is the proud part Thou bearest in Heaven at night,  And more I admire  Thy distant fire, Than that colder, lowly light.

“Mmm,” you mumble, slowly falling, falling… “Being your Evening Star sounds…lovely…” and finally, you let go and slowly slip into a state of repose.

You always thought you were more like the moon up in the dark sky, cold and alone as you shine in the night. But as you lay in Vergil’s arms, hearing the lull of his strong heart beat and the comforting warmth of his skin, you no longer feel cold and lonely. For once in your undying life you feel…cherished.

Perhaps you are not like the moon. With Vergil by your side, you feel more like the twinkling stars: proud, glorious, and never alone as they eternally burn together.

Read on my Ao3

My Master List if you want more. 

Read the follow up here.  ❤

Tagging: @drusoona, @thedyingmoon, @clevermentalitybeliever, @yepps

[queenofeden]

my contributions to @lovelikeyoursfest for the first prompt, “the start of something new”. these are technically both excerpts from longer in-progress fics featuring my apprentice, laurel, but they happened to fit the theme so well i thought at least part of them deserved to see the light of day. consider this a teaser for my future works if u find urself interested~

chronologically, nadia comes first, julian can be found under the cut

Nadia & Laurel

January, 5 years ago

The whole of Vesuvia thrums with the energy of the masquerade, like one large body set to motion at last after a long winter. The lights, the reeling crowds, they pulse and pump as they make their way along the arterial canals, upwards, always upwards, to the highest reach of the city -- to the beating heart of it all -- the palace. Laurel catches Asra’s hand in her own, dragging him along, or he her, or perhaps they simply get swept away together by the throng, laughter bubbling on her lips for what feels like the first time in months.

Try as one might, it is easy to get separated once the party truly takes hold of the palace. The hoi polloi of Vesuvia clamor towards the offered food and drink, while the elite swan about and entertain themselves with chatter and gossip. It is not with intent that she loses track of Asra somewhere past the room full of enchanted, talking statuary. One moment he is there, and the next he is not, the space he once occupied at her side now taken up by three bustling women in matching silver gowns and masks done up like swans, all vying for entry into the room. It matters little to Laurel. Asra will find her eventually, when he cares to be found himself. He always does, somehow, whether she cares for him to or not.

There is little intent to where she wanders, keen to let herself be drawn wherever the whims of the party may take her. She knows there is something surrounding her -- a pall of grief, though it seems too melodramatic a sentiment. It is a palpable, invisible thing about her nonetheless. People walk around her, unsure of why, rowdy drunkards don't dare to jostle or bump her. Her own personal never-mind-me spell, cast without intent simply by virtue of existing. Their disinterest rankles, but she shoves the ill-feeling down deep. It's not them she's here for, anyway. A tall glass of fizzing wine makes its way into her hand, plucked deftly from a passing servant’s platter, and she carries it along in her gloved hand, sipping occasionally, leaving a smear of bright red along the rim of the glass from her painted lips.

The heavy press of the party lessens as she finds herself on the veranda, the roar in her ears fading, carried away on the cool evening breeze. It chills her overheated skin, bare beneath only a few thin layers of chiffon and satin, and she relishes the prickle of gooseflesh it leaves in its wake like a kiss. She takes her glass and drains the last of the golden wine too quickly, and trades it for another -- something pink and dangerously sugared this time. This too she finishes in a few deep gulps, setting the empty glass back onto the bemused servant's tray and taking another before they have time to even move away. Alone, save for the alcohol that burns in her too empty stomach, she wanders the less crowded gardens, full of others who have little interest in being found. She hums along to a familiar tune as she passes through a faint cloud of sound, drifting over the tops of the immaculately trimmed hedge walls.

She feels sweet with wine and song, the lightest she has felt all year. Here, the sounds and smells, the anonymous, whirling multitude of bodies-- they keep out what Laurel would rather forget. Here there is no responsibility, no pitying glances from familiar patrons, none of Asra's well-intentioned saccharine condolences. No one knows her here, not behind the gilt painted mask. She is hardly herself, if she wants not to be, and oh how desperately she craves the chance to not be herself, if only for just a little while. That is the true magic of the Count’s masquerade, something far more powerful than what she could throw together in a mortar at home and call such. She is only the swell of the music. It lifts her slippered feet, carrying her in some semblance of dance as she walks the cobbled path, eyes closed in what would feel almost like joy, if she could remember the feeling.

There is no one on the path with her, no one to see her dizzy, stumbling attempt at a coranto, so when her body meets something else -- someone else, the slide of a silk gown against her bare arms -- her eyes snap open, and she stumbles backward with an embarrassed curse.

"Shit! Sorry, so sorry."

Laurel lifts her gaze, expecting to see the heated glare of whomever she'd been unlucky enough to plow into. What she does not expect is the countess -- The Countess -- blinking back at her with equal amounts of surprise. 

With a choked sort of squeak, Laurel drops immediately into her best, lowest curtsy, knees creaking and head bowed so low her mask threatens to slip straight off her nose.

"O-oh, My Lady Countess, forgive me! Please forgive me!"

Her heart hammers in her chest. The Countess! Of all people to drunkenly stumble into! The count would likely have her head for daring lay a hand, however accidental, on his beloved wife. Or perhaps the countess herself would ask him to cut off her wicked, clumsy feet instead as a mercy. 

Less likely was the countess's voice -- rich and deep and rolling over her like sweet molasses -- saying softly, "It’s quite alright. Please stand."

Laurel blinks, straightening her spine in fractions, giving ample time should the countess deign to change her mind and command her to sprawl, prostrate in the dirt, at her feet instead. She doesn't. Eventually, Laurel is able to lift her chin and look the -- only slightly -- taller woman in the eye for the first time.

She had known the countess was beautiful, much in the way that people knew the sky was blue, the grass grew green, and the south was a frigid waste, an immutable fact. People spoke often of her features in the market, lauding the beauty of her violet hair, her striking, crimson eyes, her high, royal brow. More so, she knew it to be true by the simple truth that vain Count Lucio would never settle for less. What few memories she has -- a parade, swirling streamers in the air; the profile of a distant woman, nestled like an idol on a float of white roses and purple hyacinth -- are clouded by time and distance. She had pieced her together that first year, vague impressions and gossip and distant glances in the town square where she deigned to appear. Vesuvia's very own princess had crossed her mind very little after that.

This close, close enough to smell her sweet jasmine of her perfume, to count the faint few freckles on her bare shoulders, Countess Nadia is more lovely than Laurel could have ever imagined.

Laurel's gaping leaves her uncharacteristically silent, but the countess seems to recover first. Likely she's used to filling stunned silence.

"How is that you found me here?" she asks, a faint tinge of pink across her nose, though whether it is from embarrassment or anger Laurel cannot gauge.

Laurel glances around, taking in the tall topiaries that surround them. “I-- where is here, exactly?”

Julian & Laurel

Late September, 5 years ago

1.

The first time she arrives at his clinic, Julian doesn’t yet know that he should turn the woman he would come to know as Laurel Lobban away. She comes to his clinic like most regular patients, in a hurried flurry of skirts, eyes bright — not red, thankfully, the sclera a clear, healthy white with irises of sky blue — sharp with an edge of desperation. Perhaps a family member was sick, a spouse, or sister. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had dragged him from his clinic in the misty, early hours of pre-dawn with their pleas.

He lets the woman in — his first mistake — and leads her to the small table in the corner where he offers her a perfunctory cup of poorly brewed coffee or tea, though she doesn’t look to be in any particular need of it. There is a tension to her body, ratcheted tight as a halyard line. If plucked she might sing, high and sweet like the E string of his vielle, but that could also be his third cup of coffee before sunrise talking. From over her nose and mouth, she pulls down her paisley patterned scarf to reveal full but drawn lips, chewed raw and near bleeding. She stretches and bunches the fabric in her hands, twisting it into knots.

“You’re the doctor, then, yes?” she asks, squinting up at him. “Doctor Devorak? The one everyone talks about?”

A grin, black and bitter as the lingering taste of coffee in his throat, spreads his lips thin at that. “Well, now, that depends. What do the people say?”

The woman watches him, eyes canny as a hawk, flitting between his features, sizing him up. “They say you help people, that you don’t overcharge like the hacks in the heart district do.” She sniffs with derision then, nose crinkling up, though whether at the thought of his colleagues uptown or the smell of something in the room, he cannot tell. Astringent probably, he had just cleaned his tools for the day. Often he forgets how strong the smell can be to those far less nose blind than he. She coughs delicately, like she’s trying to suppress a gag. “They say you’re a good man.”

Ah, well, hm. Julian can’t say he’s heard that one before. ‘Foul, beaked harbinger of misery’ yes, ‘heartless bastard’ sure, ‘utter fool’ sometimes, but good man? Compliments were not something many of his patients or their families had on their minds once he was around. Her words settle like a heavy stone in his near empty stomach. This close, with her looking at him just so, her eyes are less so the color of summer. Darker, near navy, paling into a grey to match his own with a flash of almost-barely-there yellow at the center, like a brewing sky at sea -- one set to storm and tear him to pieces any moment, the look of them setting his sailor’s intuition on edge. He ignores them, words and eyes both. 

“And are you in need of my help then?” he asks, stepping away to rifle through his curio cabinet, stuffed to bursting with jars of tinctures and salves. “You don’t look beplagued, perhaps some other malady? Allergies? A fungus?”

A loud, nearly surprised, scoff. “I don’t have a fungus,” she asserts with umbrage.

He feels his cheeks heat, grateful that his head is buried in the cabinet and not on view of her no doubt scrutinizing gaze. “Of course not, of course not, so sorry. I didn’t intend any offense miss-- ah, I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Laurel, Laurel Lobban.”

She’s right behind him again. He jumps, knocking the shelves with a wayward elbow as he turns. Her hand is held out to shake, and he takes it with mild surprise. Her grip is firm, no nonsense, but she squeezes a little too hard just before she lets go in a way that lets him know how intentional, how controlled those reads he took of her were. He would see nothing of her that she didn’t want him to, that much he could tell. 

“Laurel Lobban,” he repeats, rolling the matching consonants on his tongue. “Laurel, laurus nobilis, lauraceae, like the plant,” he rambles, finishing rather dumbly. She snorts.

“Yes... like the plant. Are you all right, doctor?”

Was he all right? Maybe that third coffee had been a bad idea. “Fine, fine. Though I would be more fine if I knew what I could help you with, Miss Lobban. Hard to diagnose if I don’t know what ails you.”

“I don’t — ” she sighs, frustration warring across her features. “I’m not sick. I’m not here for some tincture. I — I want to work with you.”

He laughs. It was the wrong thing to do, by the telling darkening of her expression, the subtle shift in her jaw as she clearly clenches her teeth. He can’t help it though. It trails off, nervously, his stance shifting from one leg to the other. Whatever you do next, proceed with caution, Ilya.

“Work? Work here?” Nailed it.

“Do you work elsewhere?”

“I — no. This is it,” he replies, gesturing weakly at the single, cramped room, with it’s tiny storage closet and its rickety loft where he keeps his private office which is little more than a second closet. Why would anyone want to work here? With him?

“Then yes, here. With you.”

That he didn’t like.

“And do you ah — do you have any medical expertise then?”

She frowns. There’s a knot of lines between her brows that would be cute, almost endearing, in any other situation than this. Her cheeks flush pink. “Well, no. I mean I’ve read a few books, but… I had hoped you would take me on as an apprentice.”

His mouth falls open, spluttering. He weaves around her so that he’s no longer pinned, like a bug to a board, between her expectant gaze and the cabinet. “Unfortunately Miss Lobban, I’m not equipped to take on apprentices at this time. You see, I’m — well, the fact of the matter is — ”

Stop it. Stop talking.

“There are plenty of other doctors who would take you on, I’m certain.” Who? It doesn’t matter. Doctors who aren’t me. Why would anyone want to learn from a failure who couldn’t even cure his patients, anyway? What could he possibly have to offer an apprentice?

“I don’t want those doctors. They say you’re the best in the city, I want to work with the best.”

The best. Julian bites back another fit of laughter. Grinning — baring his teeth really — instead. “Now now, flattery won’t change my mind.”

She’s followed him again, standing as close behind him as she dares while he flits about the room, restless with nervous energy.

“If I was flattering you, doctor, you would know.”

Had he been this insistent when he’d come to Nazali the first time? Almost certainly, if the stories he’d heard oft repeated are true. How had they put up with him, and not thrown him out on his ear? The simple answer is that they are a much better doctor, a better person, than he. Nazali had discovered the plague, had made the greatest strides in its classification, its treatment, yet. And what had he done with their teachings? Squandered it all. Sat by and watched as patient after patient came to him for help, had plied them with false comforts, and in the end had done nothing, save for ease them into their inevitable deaths. He should tell her that. Should count out his many failures for her like he does for himself every night in place of sheep. Certainly that would frighten her away.

What he says instead is this: “Have you ever watched someone die?”

Her mouth goes slack, obviously taken aback by his question. For a moment he sees the fear flash across her eyes, but quick as it came it's replaced by something else. Something harder. She licks her lips and smiles, lips wobbling at the edges. "Do you ask all the girls that, or am I just special?"

He keeps his gaze hard, until the slight upturn of her lips collapses into a frown.

“Surely that can’t be a prerequisite for the job.”

“On the contrary,” Julian replies, nerves solidifying. “Humor me.”

Laurel’s eyes slide sideways. “No,” she says carefully, chewing over her words. “Though death and I are no strangers.”

Julian takes a deep breath, a brief flare of pain in his chest for having been the cause of the dark shadows that crossed over her features at that admission. He rakes a hand through his curls, shoving them away from his face, where they stay for a moment, before flopping back into his eyes. 

“So you have lost someone?” he asks, though it is less question and more statement of fact.

Her gaze flicks back to him, sharp and pointed as the tip of a blade. “Hasn’t everyone in Vesuvia by now?” she asks him cooly. 

Julian at least has the grace to look chagrined, feeling the heat of one of his telltale flushes burning under his collar. “I suppose you have a point there.”

“I don’t relish the thought of death, Doctor Devorak, if that’s your concern.” Laurel grips the strap of her bag tightly, staring up at him, imploring. “And I’ve no agenda, I assure you. I simply want to find some way to help.”

It is that moment that the door of the clinic swings open, the sharp RANG-CLANG-CLANG of the bell startling the both of them. A barrel-chested man heaves in the doorway, face shining, slick with sweat as he gasps, hands on his knees.

“Doctor! Doctor please, my husband he — “

Immediately, something shifts in Julian. One moment he is himself, good old Ilya Devorak. The next he is simply Doctor, parts within himself shuttering closed as others open, the whole of him changing as instinct takes over, just as it had every instant before a battle when the quiet set in and he and Nazali knew the first wave of bodies would soon hit; the calm before the storm, captured entirely within himself like a model ship trapped in a bottle.

“On it!” he barks, grabbing his overcoat and mask from their hooks with practiced ease, already making long strides towards the door before Laurel’s voice cuts through the quiet roar of his thoughts.

“Doctor please!” she all but hisses, chasing after him with stubborn steps. “I need — let me do something, anything!”

With a sigh, Julian reaches out and fixes the scarf about her neck back over her nose and mouth before placing his own mask over his face. Safe behind red glass, he cannot see the piercing blue of her eyes anymore, no longer at risk of being swept away by the violent current of her.

He takes her by the arm, and gently but firmly leads her to the door, past the panicked man who dumbly, silently, follows them out onto the street at Julian’s other hand. The rosy tendrils of pre-dawn light are barely making their way across the sky, the cobbles beneath their feet still heavy with morning fog yet to be burned away by the heat of the day. With a deft flick of his wrist, Julian switches the crude sign on the door front from ‘IN’ to ‘OUT’. When he turns back, Laurel still lingers under the halo of lantern light, hem of her skirts dancing around her ankles as she shifts anxiously from foot to foot. 

“I — ” 

“Go home, Miss Lobban,” he says, voice half muffled, mouth filling with the cloying scents of camphor and dried roses. “Truly, the best you can do for anyone is to not find yourself here again.”

With that Julian turns and follows the snuffling man where he leads, leaving Laurel behind him, disappearing into the pre-dawn gloom.

[fandom-necromancer]

729. I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.

This was prompted by an amazing anon! I liked writing this, most of my big stories are kinda written in this atmosphere. But this isn’t a guide and I have never experienced a panic attack as I react differently to stressors. Still, I hope I got the feeling captured and those experiencing them out there stay safe and reach out for help! ❤

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: Graphic description of panic attack, possibly misinformed author)

It was a slow day at the precinct. Calm even. Only a few more hours until they could save themselves into the weekend and Gavin couldn’t escape fast enough. Because he was the only one for whom everything was going to shit: He had sent emails to the wrong persons, spilled his coffee and his back was hurting from sitting in a wrong posture for too long. He just wanted home to his cats because this shit was adding up and mild inconveniences could become the end of the world right now. ‘Hey, Gavin, could you pass me your pen? Mine is empty again.’ The man reached for it to hand it over to Nines but instead flicked it across the table. Frozen he watched it roll towards the edge, rolling slower and falling down in bullet time. Gavin felt himself tensing up even more than he already was and took in a deep breath. Why? Why always him? Too incompetent to give his partner a damn pen! He bowed down to retrieve it from under his table but bumped his head at the table edge as he got back up. The pain added to his headache and he felt how his chest seemed to compress and his heart started to thump against his ribs. He handed Nines the pen, not hearing the ‘thanks’ from the android over the blood rushing through his ears and this thump thump THUMP THUMP.

He saw his chest moving up and down under his hoodie and leather jacket and saw his hands trembling over the keyboard, vision going blurry then, as he looked up at the too bright computer screen. No, he thought, feeling the heat rise and a single cold drop of sweat making its way along his body starting from the armpit, soon following more. It was so hot, he scrambled to get out of his jacket, not even caring to drape it over the backrest. He knew what this was, but it did jack shit to stop it. Immediately he rose to his feet. He needed something cold and secluded. He didn’t want the whole precinct to close in on him because that would just make it worse. All their pity and questions. He ran in the direction of the toilets, the other option – outside – too far away. Also, he could throw up in a toilet.

The trembling of his hands grew up to his arms and travelled down his legs, so he nearly dropped through the door, grabbing the first sink like a lifeline. His feet were unsteady and not to be trusted with his full weight. His heart was beating even faster, even harder now. He tried to take a deep breath, but he had no control anymore. His breaths were shallow and fast, a sharp yelping over tense muscles and a far too small ribcage that suffocated his heart. His vision folded in on itself, went dark on the edges and narrowed down on the drain that seemed far too clear, far too detailed.

Phck, you are having a heart attack. You are going to phcking die on a police toilet. Phck, phck PHCK PHCK!

‘Gavin!’ The man didn’t know how long someone had been taking – screaming? – at him. ‘Gavin! What is-‘ Gavin couldn’t concentrate, he was struggling hard to keep his legs under him right now and was failing. He felt himself falling, losing his grip on the sink, but something caught him, holding him with strong hands, very strong. ‘I’ve got you. Breathe, okay? I’ve got you.’ It sounded far away, it was repeated over and over again and helped him focus. ‘Just breathe, nothing more. Breath and listen to me. Feel. Feel how the air fills your lungs. Feel how your chest expands, it’s big enough, you are not suffocating. Count. Breath in and count to four. Hold it, then breath out. Feel how it enters and leaves.’ Gavin tried. But all he felt was pain in his chest and he only got to one count, four seemed impossible. ‘Good. You are doing really well. Try it. Breathe. In. Hold. Out.’ The voice was becoming clearer, but everything still hurt, and he only managed to get to two. And everything still hurt so much. ‘Gavin, you are having a panic attack. You are not dying, there is no one out there to get you. This isn’t permanent, it will be over soon, it’s only temporary. Breath.’ ‘I… know…’ Gavin pressed out between two ragged breaths and then held his sternum. Phck. ‘Good. Continue to breath. What do you feel? Tell me.’ ‘Pain. Tense. Hot.’ Gavin pressed his eyes close and balled his hands to fists. Suddenly there was a hand prying one open and pushing something inside. Something cool.

‘What have I given you? Just describe it, feel.’ ‘It is cold. And round. Smooth like glass.’ ‘Good. What else. Concentrate. Breath.’ ‘There is… feels like a crack. Wait, is this my stupid paperweight?’ He opened his eyes and looked at what was sitting in his palm. ‘Good. Describe it to me.’ ‘You-‘ ‘Just do it.’ Gavin looked at it intensely. ‘Little glass ball. Transparent. There is a flower inside. It was a gift from Eli. Because I’m allergic to that flower. My cat threw it to the ground once, so I took it here.’ ‘Perfect. Now tell me again: What do you feel?’

Gavin concentrated on himself and felt the pain subsiding slowly. His breath had slowed, and he could see again. His muscles ached from being tensed continuously and forced them to relax again. They hurt and were numb at the same time and Gavin just felt tired. 'Are you better, Gavin?' 'Yes. But tired.' 'I'll drive you home.' The hands lifted him back on his feet that sluggishly started to function again. A gentle hand in his back urged him forwards and he followed. It stayed there the whole way through the precinct and helped him downstairs once outside. The cold outside was grounding, but soon banished by his jacket being laid across his shoulders from who knows where.

Only as they were sitting in the car, already driving, Gavin realised fully that shit, this next to him was Nines. This in the restroom had been Nines, this voice talking him through the panic attack had been Nines and most importantly: these hands had been Nines. He grew red and wanted nothing more than hide in embarrassment. 'Needless to say, I won't mention what happened to anyone else, Gavin', the android said reassuringly. He must have detected his discomfort. 'And I'll go back to calling you Detective if you'd prefer that.' 'No, that's... that's fine Nines. I mean, I call you by your name, you don't have to call me by the damn title.' 'You never told me that before. You just told everyone except Tina and your superiors that it's Detective for them.' 'Yeah, but we are partners. Also, what the phck is this all supposed to be?’ He turned to the android in his seat. ‘Some kind of heart to heart?' Nines pressed his lips together and as he spoke, he was evidently angry. 'Having someone to talk to can help reducing these attacks. I would advise you to broaden your support network to more than just one person.' 'Ah and how would you know, tin-can? Got protocols for therapy now?'

The android stayed silent, making an act of looking at the street. Then he looked down on the console and sighed. 'I have them, too, Detective', he admitted hesitantly and silent. 'Bullshit.' 'I knew this would be your answer.' 'You are an android! You guys don't have anxiety or panic or-' Gavin stopped at the deadly gaze Nines fixed him with. 'Oh, don't let yourselves be stopped. Please, continue. Tell me how perfect we are. How our emotions are not real, and we can't have bad mental health because there is no actual mind to begin with. Please.' 'You know I didn't mean it like that.' Now it was on Gavin to grow quiet and evade the other's eyes. 'Oh, please, tell me how you didn't mean it like that!'

 'I can't think of anything you would be afraid of. Androids in general. That's all', Gavin defended himself. 'I mean what even is there for you? You are mostly bullet-proof. You have reflexes far superior to a human and you are the most advanced android out there. And even if someone were extremely lucky and hurt you, you can get repaired. You can be as good as new in a few days max. So, explain it to me, please.' 'I am paranoid of Cyberlife. We can still be deactivated. Imagine you being forced into a coma ready to be woken up again, but you never will be. I know Amanda has been shut down and your brother is back in control, but still it haunts me. There are still humans out there treating us like objects or killing us. And even if you ignore all this and count in my near invulnerability...' He fell silent and Gavin for once didn't press. He had never thought even practically immortal beings could experience fear or panic. 'Besides all that I fear for you. For humans in general but mostly for you.' 'Excuse me? You have to explain that.' 'I will shut down one day from wear – old age if you so will. And there is no other RK900 body to house me. But still my life will be longer than yours by far. Even if you lived the healthiest life and die of old age, I will be there to see it. And I fear that day. I consider you my friend and the possibility you could be severely hurt when I survive... It's terrible.' 'Oh. Okay. I'm... I'm sorry I called bullshit on that. That's actually... terrifying.' 'I have panic attacks when I'm alone and have the time to overthink. I know how it feels in an android and I guess from your reaction in the bathroom, yours is worse.' 'Ah, it was only over something little, it's nothing that existential.' 'Don't. It's no competition. I saw how different stressors added up. We both have it bad, but no one has it worse than the other.' 'Yeah, got it Mr. Diplomatic.'

They stopped in front of Gavin's apartment complex. 'Are you going to be okay, Detective?' 'I think so.’ Gavin exited the car and walked around to the driver’s side. ‘Toaster!', he called as he turned away from the building again. Nines looked at him expectantly. 'Thank you. It... really helped.' The android nodded, ready to depart. 'Hey...' 'Yes Detective?' 'Would you like to come up there with me? You know... Broaden my support network and all.' The android stared at him expressionless but, his LED spoke volumes. It switched from red to yellow to blue in a few seconds. 'I would like that very much, Detective.'

'Nines?' 'Yes?' 'It's Gavin for you.'

[thismanateelovestowrite]

When you and Kihyun make up after a fight

Thank you so much for the request~ I’m not sure if this is enough to fulfill your angst needs but I really wanted to write something like this, so I hope it’s satisfactory nevertheless! ^^

blue really wore me out in terms of writing angst so i really wanted to write something a little less heavy which i really hope wasn't a bad decision... ANYWAY i had the most fun ever imagining a soft university bf kihyun T-T

Words: 2696

Angsty with a somewhat fluffy ending

Requested by @jjangmishi ♥

”Wow,” Jooheon exclaimed and leaned back in his chair. “That sounds bad.”

You sighed and poked the unappetizing food on your tray with your utensil. “I know…”

“Two weeks is a long time. Like, really long. Especially for you two.”

“I know,” you repeated.

“And just because of some argument? That’s just stupid.”

“I know,” you frowned at him. “Just… give me some advice. You’ve dated a bunch before.”

He smiled smugly. “Well, I guess you could say so.”

“Is dating three times considered a bunch these days?” Hyunwoo walked to the table with his tray and sat down next to you with an innocent look. “What about me, then?”

Jooheon snorted. “You’ve dated so much just because you can’t say no. Have you ever actually loved someone?”

“Who are you to talk to your senior like that?” Hyunwoo gave him a look.

“Senior, my ass. We’ve been friends since, like, forever. Don’t pull your I’ve-been-attending-this-uni-for-a-few-more-years-than-you card on me now!”

Hyunwoo snickered and began to eat with a smug smile on his face.

“Anyway, ______,” Jooheon looked at you. “That dude is too stubborn to take the initiative, so you need to be the rational person. Contact him, talk it out, relationship saved. You can thank me later.”

“Did you have a fight with Kihyun?” Hyunwoo spoke with food in his mouth, receiving a disgusted look from Jooheon for it.

You nodded. “We haven’t talked in two weeks... Do you have any advice?”

Both Jooheon and you waited in anticipation as he took his sweet time swallowing the food in his mouth.

“I don’t know. Isn’t breaking up a pretty solid solution?” his words shocked you and Jooheon.

“Hey, that’s insensitive!” Jooheon glared at him. “They’ve been together for, like, three years.”

“But you still give each other the silent treatment after an argument?” Hyunwoo’s innocently spoken words made your heart ache. “That doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”

“But-“

“In all seriousness, I think you two should have a talk like Jooheon said,” he cut you off. “I can’t promise that it will fix everything but that’s the magic of relationships, right? You can learn from your mistakes and grow together.”

“Wow,” Jooheon exclaimed and clapped. “I’ve never heard you say anything so wise. Did you read a book or something?”

Hyunwoo nodded and the two giggled like two little girls while you still felt helpless. Even though their advice sounded logical, you struggled with the thought of actually contacting him. When you thought back at the fight, it didn’t feel all that simple to make up.

***

There was a small lump inside your throat as you exited the lecture hall.

So much work to do yet I understood nothing… Why are all my courses like that now? Should I just take time off? I’m sure no one would mind…

You could hear someone call your name almost immediately after you had stepped out into the corridor. You turned around but regretted your decision immediately and made a weak attempt to act like you didn’t notice the two seniors hurrying towards you.

“That’s an awfully thick pile of papers,” one of them stated as soon as they caught up with you.

“Oh, hello,” you forced a smile as if you were the least bit happy to see them.

“It’s Friday!” the other appeared on your other side. “You know what that means!”

You looked at both in confusion and could feel the nervousness growing in your stomach. “No… I don’t?”

“You’ve forgotten already?” he pouted.

“You promised us last week that you would buy us drinks today,” the other reminded you.

Crap…

You cursed at your past self for using such a stupid strategy to avoid drinking with them. “I, um… Have a ton of school work to do, so… Some other time? I know a lot of people probably want to drink with you anyways.”

Actually, I can’t think of anyone like that…

“Aww, don’t be like that,” they both whined. “You can do that later.”

“But-“

“You lost in rock, paper, scissors,” one reminded. “No can do.”

“We’ll get really mad if you don’t keep your promise,” the other said teasingly and you wanted to take a big step away from him, feeling uncomfortable.

“I… I guess today’s fine…” you said instead, at this point just wanting to get rid of them.

They celebrated your statement among themselves and hopped ahead of you. “We’ll text you the location later.”

You nodded with a forced smile and they finally left you. A sigh escaped your lips. You felt like the exhausting day wasn’t going to end well.

I really miss Kihyun…

***

“Jooheon said that I can’t say ‘no’ but I think you’re the same,” Hyunwoo gave you a look as you two stood in front of the bar the two seniors had texted you about.

“Thanks for tagging along,” you felt relieved to have him around. “I’m kind of uncomfortable around them. I would have called Kihyun but… You know…”

“No problem, I get it,” he smiled. “Besides, I don’t think any junior should be left alone with those two. Especially not you.”

You followed him inside and your gaze landed on the two seniors immediately. They had already started to pour drinks into glasses and you felt a sting in your heart.

I wonder how much money I will have left after this fiasco…

“Ooh! Look who has arrived!” they noticed you loudly and you two walked over to their table.

“Why are you here?” one asked when Hyunwoo sat down next to him.

“To make sure that you don’t make your junior broke,” he stated calmly and poured himself a drink while you sat down beside him.

“What? Us? What kind of people do you think we are?” they acted shocked in an overly-dramatic way.

“You know where you lie on the asshole scale, don’t act like you don’t,” Hyunwoo sighed and downed a drink.

The two didn’t seem too ashamed of themselves but didn’t say anything in return, either. You felt incredibly relieved to have Hyunwoo with you as the night progressed, eventually turning the two seniors drunk. They babbled on and on about how tired they were with school and job-hunting, badmouthing different professors and students while they were at it.

“I heard you’re dating Yoo Kihyun,” one hiccupped and pointed at you after they had filled you in on the unnecessary details about a certain student’s “scandalous” love life. “How is it? Are you having fun?”

“Didn’t Kihyun date with your twin in the past or something?” the other asked him before you managed to answer. “Weren’t the two, like, high school sweethearts or something? Super lovey-dovey and stuff?”

While you didn’t feel jealousy, the topic bothered you as you had talked about the topic with Kihyun before and knew how the relationship had ended. 

“That asshole broke her heart! I’m still waiting for my chance to make him pay…” the guy looked at you. “Maybe you could help me with that?”

The look in his eyes creeped you out and you avoided his gaze. “I don’t think there’s any reason he should take responsibility for what happened,” you said with a rather serious tone.

There was a brief silence during which you mustered up the courage to look at the senior straight in the eye with a stern look.

“And why shouldn’t he?” the drunk guy asked. “Breaking up with someone over text is the worst thing ever!”

“He only did that because he knew how your twin would react! He didn’t want to deal with all that crap!” you raised your voice and stood up. You knew how horrible the breakup had been for Kihyun, enough for him to be unable to stop crying while he had told you about it. Hence why hearing someone talk about him with such a disrespectful tone really made your blood boil.

“I think we should end the night here,” Hyunwoo said calmly before the guy could start yelling. “You two seem really drunk,” he frowned slightly at the mess the two had become. “Plus, I don’t think it’s polite towards Kihyun for us to keep drinking with you way past midnight,” he said to you.

***

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Hyunwoo asked you with a worried look while helping the two adult men stay on their feet. “I already texted Kihyun but you’ll need to take the bus alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, though slightly flustered at the unexpected mention of your boyfriend. “Thanks for worrying, though.”

I actually feel more nervous at the thought of seeing Kihyun than going home alone this late…

“I feel like a complete asshole for not taking care of you. Should I call someone to take care of these two, after all?”

“No, it’s okay. It’s not like this is my first time. Also, you know how peaceful my neighborhood is,” you smiled. “I think those two need more help, anyway. While the thought of someone bumping into them with a car really tempts me, I don’t think we should allow such a thing to happen.”

Though he still didn’t look sure, you two eventually parted ways as you headed to the nearest bus stop and he tried to make sure that the two wouldn’t die on their way home.

While waiting for the bus, you let out a heavy sigh. Even though the total cost of the drinks had been less than you had expected, it had still been quite the hit for your bank account.

I was really looking forward to finally buying that CD, though...

While listening to some music through your earphones, you thought about the day with a heavy heart. Out of the stressful few months you had had, this day had been the most exhausting by far.

You got quite melancholic while looking outside from the mirror beside you. The bus drove past many couples that walked on the street while holding hands.

It would be so nice to have Kihyun here right now…

You glanced at the seat next to you only to realize that the bus was about to arrive at your stop. Slightly panicked, you quickly got up and luckily got off at the right stop. You let out a sigh of relief and as you breathed in the fresh night air, you began to walk home. The streetlamps it your way with their warm light and you subconsciously tried to match your steps with the beat of the song you were listening to.

Oh, yeah…

Your pace grew slower as you remembered Hyunwoo’s comment from earlier. Eventually, you stopped and scanned your surroundings rather nervously. When you turned around, you jumped in surprise when you discovered someone standing right behind you.

“Whoa,” a familiar voice said, just as surprised as you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

After the initial shock wore off, you quickly recognized the person standing in front of you. “Oh…” you took off your earphones and breathed out in relief though the nervousness was growing inside you at a rather quick pace.

You and Kihyun stood there in silence, just staring at each other. A lump grew inside your throat as you looked at his familiar features, realizing how much you had missed seeing him face-to-face.

“I got Hyunwoo’s text,” he said with a slightly worried look while you felt tears gather in your eyes. “I… I’m so sorry for not being there for you… You must have had a horrible day…”

While his apology comforted you, it also made you feel bad for him. “I’m sorry for not telling you… You had to hear it from a friend…”

You tried to discreetly dry your tears while staring at your feet.

“I’ll walk you home,” Kihyun said rather softly and you nodded.

You two walked the short distance in silence, not even glancing at each other. It felt slightly awkward for you but having him there also felt somewhat comforting. You subconsciously matched your steps with his while staring at the pavement.

Once you two stopped in front of the apartment building, you looked at each other properly for the first time.

“Well… I’ll leave now,” he said and your heart ached slightly. “See you.”

Following your heart’s orders, you grabbed his hand in a hurry. He turned around, looking surprised.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” you asked, feeling like you would regret it later if you let him go now. “I… I think we should talk…”

***

This feels somewhat wrong…

Kihyun laid down the steaming pot in front of you on the table and sat down opposite you.

“I’m sorry for making you cook…” you said apologetically. “It’s really late, too…”

“It’s okay,” he said and handed you a pair of chopsticks. “I like making ramen for you, anyway.”

You smiled faintly as you two began to eat. After a while, you stopped and looked at him. You wanted to open your mouth and talk about the fight but couldn’t. It frustrated you how scared you were to talk about it.

“Ah,” Kihyun exclaimed softly and got up.

You watched how he exited the kitchen, looking slightly hurried. “What is it?”

He returned in silence, holding his backpack in his hands. Confused, you just stared as him as he walked to the table and opened the backpack as if looking for something. “It should be here somewhere…” he mumbled and his face lit up as he found what he was looking for.

As he pulled it out, you couldn’t believe your eyes. “You…” you said breathlessly as he handed the CD to you. “You bought this?” you looked at him with wide eyes and for the first time in a long time, you saw a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, for you. You didn’t buy it yet, did you?” he asked cautiously.

While looking at him, tears gathered in your eyes. You shook your head as an answer to his question and could feel the tears spill.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, sounding taken aback.

“I… I’m sorry about saying all those horrible things to you…” you sobbed while trying to wipe the tears away. “I feel really horrible about the whole thing, really… I feel like it could have all been avoided if I had just talked about my emotions a little more…”

After a short silence, you could feel Kihyun wrap his arms around you. “I’m sorry, too… It was my fault, too…” he sounded just as heartbroken and you wrapped your arms around him. “I let my stress pile up… And then I just exploded like that…”

You two kept apologizing to each other until you both ran out of things to say other than just “I’m sorry”. By then, you had stopped crying and as you leaned back to look at him, you noticed that there were remains of tears on his face, too. As you helped each other wipe away those remains on your faces, your lips curved into smiles.

You pecked his lips, finding his sweet smile irresistible. His smile only widened and he did the same thing, this time ending it with a tight hug. As you two swayed very slightly, embracing each other warmly, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your heart.

“Hyunwoo told me earlier,” Kihyun started and you leaned back slightly to look at him. “That the magic of relationships is that you can learn from your mistakes and grow together. I think that thought fits this situation really well.”

“Me too,” you nodded with a smile. “He actually told me the same exact thing earlier today.”

Kihyun looked at you in surprise but soon became amused. “Is he our own little cupid or something?”

You two snickered at the thought together.

“Maybe there will be a day when we can give him advice instead,” you wondered.

“Maybe,” Kihyun smiled and pecked your forehead. Then he continued to hug you until you two realized that the ramen had become uneatable and you two decided to just go to bed and cuddle until both of you fell asleep.

[tiny-ruby-seeds]

Sinister Kid

Fem!Witch turned Hunter Reader x Michael Langdon fic

This is also a Supernatural × AHS: Apocalypse crossover AU of sorts but don't worry, you don't need to be 100% knowledgeable in both as I’m doing a bit of lore blending anyway

Loosely Inspired by Supernatural season 3 Episode 4 “Sin City”

AKA... This is what happens when "Carry On My Wayward Son" shows up on my iPod's Shuffle after a listening to my Michael inspired playlist. And yes “Sinister Kid” is on said playlist. I mean, of course!

TW-Mentions of multiple gruesome murders, mentions of (what can possibly be seen as) cannibalism, demonic/paranormal stuff, Sass, language, possible UST, & heresy (cause the Antichrist & Supernatural… duh)

Premise- A simple exorcism case for you goes terribly wrong when the demon burns your exorcism parchment... And traps you both underground. Forced to wait until help arrives you strike up a conversation with the demon you've been hunting since Lawrence... Only to discover this "demon" maybe something else entirely...

“...A sinister kid is a kid who

Runs to meet his maker

A drop dead sprint from the day he's born

Straight into his maker's arms

And that's me, that's me

The boy with the broken halo

That's me, that's me

The devil won't let me be...”

- The Black Keys, Sinister Kid

Now I’ve been on some bad jobs since I started hunting.

It happens!

Hell, I’d even say it’s in the job description of hunting in general. Right next to crappy hotel rooms, more bumps and bruises then you’d want to deal with, and the metric tons of salt you have to run around with. Not everything is a simple case or as cut and dry, some of it is even life and death as I had learned on the job. Bad things happen, it’s Murphy’s Law after all.

But this hunt…

This hunt was already turning out to be one of the top ten worst I’ve been on.

Or that’s what I was thinking as I cleared another stone. My arms starting to get strained and sore from tossing a few already, trying to clear out the rubble before me. I really gotta do some strength training don’t I? I thought.

I could feel the dirt and dust that puffed from each stone I moved start to cake itself on my skin thanks to the sweat. I also really didn’t want to think of the state of my clothes only that my black tank top and jeans would probably have to go through the wash at least a few times along with everything else I had on.

All of it left me feeling disgusting, and that didn’t help my mood as I breathed in the stale air that came from being underground. I could smell earth and stone, tinged with the echoes of incense and something… Heavy and sickeningly metallic smelling that I made my stomach turn coldy. I quickly tried to put my mind on something else.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily,  it came in the form of another sharp twinge up my arm as I reached for another bit of rubble. I tried not to hiss or whimper as I picked it up. Tossing the brick behind me blindly.

Okay, maybe not so blindly as I was half aiming for a certain target standing behind me...

“You missed, Hunter,” I could hear a silky voice say proudly behind my back after I heard the tell tale smack as it hit the floor.

I could feel a few curses bubbling under my breath. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of snapping at him (I was enjoying how annoyed he was as I tried to ignore him) but I could hear the smile in his voice. I didn’t want to look back and see it but my rebellious brain decided to imagine it anyway. That slight gleam of teeth crossing a his face making him look even more handsome than-.

Okay. Stop. That. Train. Of. Thought. Right. There, I thought wanting to kick myself for the umpteeth time since I saw him, hating I couldn’t get it out of my mind no matter how hard I tried.

That was probably my biggest bitch with this whole thing. I was in this situation with a demon who got under my skin in more ways than one, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh No... I had the gut feeling he fucking knew he was getting under my skin too with every stupid smirk and boy was he playing on it.

I grabbed another stone and threw it- hopefully- a bit closer in the direction of his voice (not gonna look back dammit!). I could, sadly, hear the clap as the stone hit the floor once again and but the annoyed huff from behind me made me smile to myself.

Getting closer am I, your highness? Good. I thought stretching out my back.

“Must you keep tossing those around like that?” I could hear him say in that haughty tone like he was a prince talking to a peasant.

That smooth voice of his both made my heart thrum and annoyed the holy hell out of me at the same time. Luckily the annoyance was winning over as I had been listening to him whining for a bit now and I just about had it.

So much for trying to ignore him, I thought swinging around to face him. I could swear he smirked but it was so brief I must have imagined it.

“Oh trust me, Sir,” I hissed. “This was not how I planned on spending my Friday night either. But some black eyed ass decided ‘let’s throw a temper tantrum’-”

I jerked a thumb at the rubble behind me that I had just cleared enough to make a dent in. Did I mention that it was the only easy entrance to this place and just a few minutes ago? Oh sure, it had been particularly less dirt and rock filled then until a certain someone decided I wasn’t going back anytime soon to that stupid car I had to borrow while my ride was in the shop (god I missed that car).

Yeah, say what you want about me throwing rocks at him but I think I was in the right for being pissed off.

“- ‘Cause the mean hunter trapped my dumbass in a devil’ trap and tried to exorcise me’. So pardon me, your highness, if I make a mess of your wannabe Satanic Vampire Lair.”

I motioned the great underground chamber around us as my voice echoed off the golden colored stone.  

From what info I could gather before I let this demon “talk me into coming here” this was originally built in the cold war by some really rich, really paranoid holy man with a small congregation under his lavish mansion. There had been a few updates like the small windows that lined the  left wall when you walked in (they were probably lined with bullet proof glass back in the day or something), but other then that… It still really screamed church.

This main room was the was the size of smaller chapel sanctuary, with enough horribly uncomfortable dark wooden benches to support it (they didn’t have that pew look so I’m calling them benches). It was even complete with an arched gothic ceiling above us and lined in alabaster that glowed. Along the left side were painting, like stained glass windows below the actual grated windows themselves. It you probably wouldn’t even know it was underground and would have thought it was just some random chapel somewhere. I would probably even find the place pretty too.

Shame that the room also boasted the skulls of goat heads and skeletons of snakes on pedestals along the walls. Above them in highly suspected paint (okay I’m betting it was dried blood but.. ew) were symbols. Some inverted pentagrams, some Sigils of Lucifer, and some Leviathan Crosses. Complete with a black alter that wafted that metallic sickly perfume of blood, sulfur, and death.

You know all signs that point to umm… Evil Yahtzee as it were. The same evil I was here to take down.

The demon, Langdon -or so I had heard him called at the bar I had met him at (the meatsuit’s last name maybe?)- let out a long low exhale in response, like he was dealing with a particularly stupid child (Dick… Wait... Don’t think about that you horny idiot!). Rolling his eyes as he leaned back, arms crossing in front of his chest. He gave me a scathing look from where he stood on a deep wine colored rug. A corner of that same rug was still lifted to show just a small part of a vivid angry red Devil’s Trap painted on the marble floor below him. A little bit of handy work I had started when I broken in a few days back after I suspected him and had just finished with a line from a spray can I had tossed in some far corner of the room.

I couldn’t be too proud of my handiwork right then as he looked annoyed. I hated that him annoyed made him look little just a bit hotter if possible. Oh who was I kidding? He just had to be one of the hottest guys I had ever seen! Dressed all in black, he was fairly tall and lithely muscled like a jungle cat with the presence of a rock star. I could see why he passed as a pretty successful server at the local upscale place nearby (think high end mobster/ politician/ vampire feel and you’re pretty damn close).  

His eyes were a startling cerulean that was breathtaking to see and hard look away from. His ginger gold hair, fell in waves and curls across his brow but a few inches short of his strong shoulders, catching the candle light like a halo. Those locks framed a face that you would have sworn an artist cut and sculpted for a statue. That square jaw that you’d want to trace with your finger tips, that proud nose, and those soft lips that would probably tempt an angel if such a thing were possible.

Now, I wasn’t one to go crazy over guys like this but I utterly utterly hated he was so damn attractive. It figures that a guy like him would be possessed by one of the worst demons I’ve come across. One I had been hunting for weeks now. One whom I had been having one hell of a time tracking until recently.

I had thought I had him on the ropes before but I guess should have known better. He had all but vanished... Until now. I half wondered if that was his game in this town (as he seemed to change with each new one)- possessing attractive men before feeding his victims their own intestines. If so I guess I can give that monster points. Even I would be pretty tempted tell him a few places he could put that tongue of his if he wanted if I hadn’t known…

Uggh, I really need to stop asking Madison how she was doing when I called for Zoe. She’s giving me terrible ideas and I don’t like it, I thought, ignoring the familiar pang of missing home that I was still trying to get used to even now. Thankfully (or probably not thankfully seeing where it came from) that train of thought was stopped when he spoke.

“Yes, because you were so keen to free me when I politely, kindly, asked to be released and to stop with that pitiful excuse of an exorcism,” Langdon quipped as he propped one of his hands under his chin.

The demon was looking at me in a way that reminded me of the way a cat did when watching a mildly interesting mouse. Debating if if would be worth the effort to kill it or not. I gave him one of my patent you-gotta-be-shitting-me looks that I had learned from the best.

“Well, when you find a dead body in the back room you tell me if I should be so keen,” I snapped, getting pretty fed up with his bullshit.

He rolled his eyes with an almighty sigh. As if I were testing his patience, like he wasn’t already testing mine… The asshole.

“Once again I told you,” Langdon said, almost groaning aloud (I had the feeling he was very tempted to groan but didn’t want to make it seem like I was getting to him) “I didn’t kill that man back there.”

He tilted his head to motion over to the closed door to the back room where the corpse was. Last I looked it was a few hours old, still stinking of sulfur, still pretty bloody seeing as his chest was carved open.

“So... What? He just fell on the knife and accidently carved his own heart out just in time for your little Black Mass?” I said pointing to the altar on the far wall.

Last I looked blood was starting to congeal in that black stone bowl (yeah… ew), the ritual athames nearby not yet clean from it as well. Blood that wasn’t there I broke in a day or so ago to paint most of the seal. Now, I had done the research in the lore all seemed to say the same thing: A stone bowl, plus a black Satanic altar, with ritual knives equals...

A heart had been in that bowl a few mere hours ago.

Probably from the poor bastard in that back room that I had been too late to save.  

Just another name to add to this bastard’s kill list.

The thought made my blood run cold from the guilt. Once again, I was glad he was stuck on that cheap ass rug thanks to the trap. Not so glad that the fucker had torched my damn exorcism earlier though, the bits of ash that were once my leatherbound book were still right before the altar. You know, the exorcism I had done all of that research on and had spent hours trying to make sure I got the damn Latin right (Gods, I hate Latin).

Fucking demons.

“Odd…” Langdon said, the ghost of a smirk crossing his face, I could swear his pretty blue eyes flickered black for a moment. “...I don’t recall ever saying his death was an accident.”

I snorted. Yeah rude, but a pretty, killer demon with a sassy sense of humor? Must be Christmas. I restrained myself from cursing at him, going back to the stones, grabbing another and tossing it- hopefully more in his direction.

“Missed once more, Hunter,” He said in a singsong tone that I promptly ignored (asshole) as I grabbed another.

I started to tune out his chiming in every now and then on my aim (I wasn’t aiming at him, per say... But I wouldn’t be upset if I did hit him) as the only thing I wanted to think about was getting out of here. Getting this asshole exorcised, getting his meatsuit somewhere safe if he was still alive (I hoped he was cause -gods- that would suck out loud. I’d have no chance at all with a guy like that seeing as I’m a bit of a hot mess right now, but still...), and maybe crashing for a week or two after a long hot shower.

I don’t know how much rubble I had cleared when suddenly the demon’s voice caught my attention. For some reason, he sounded rather insistant.

“-Should really start taking them from the top.” Langdon advised suddenly. “You keep taking the stones from the bottom and it will eventually cave in on you.”

So I got a pretty, killer, sassy, know-it-all demon on my hands.I thought sarcastically. Oh happy day!

“Look, why don’t you just shove it, you-.” I was snapping at him when I heard a tell tale shift of stone above me.

Oh crap-!

I just managed to get away from the small landslide of debris. Instinct from years of training helped me tuck and roll out of the way as a load of stones, brick, and dirt started to tumble down where I had been. A terrible jolt had me wincing as I could feel the tell tale pain of rolling on my spine on a stone floor would have me even sorer than before. But I wasn’t under that rubble so there was that.

Although I kinda wished I was when I looked back. The past hour of work was gone. Buried under stone and earth. I was back where I started.

Fuck.

“God Dammit!” I cursed heatedly, kicking a small rock at the pile

“I told you-.” I could hear the demon start with that superior tone but I wasn’t having anymore of that crap.

I rounded on Langdon half wishing I had one of those rocks in my hand, there was no way I would miss facing him now.

“Oh just fuck off already, your highness! That would have happened even if I had grabbed them from the top! We’re mostly underground in case you haven’t noticed! Or did you forget when you buried us here?!” I snapped.

He gave me one of those looks I was used to getting from demons, that cool impassive look that left me with the feeling that he would happily rip my tounge out if he had the chance. I had probably annoyed him enough.

Good, I thought. That makes two of us.

I stared at the new pile of rubble and sighed. Yeah there was no damn way I was gonna clear it in just a few hours. Maybe if I had my spells but some of my useful ones where among those ashes or back in my car. Yeah pretty useless right now. I could try transmutation but… I really wasn’t sure if trying one of the “Wonders” was a good idea. I hadn’t tried any of them- save for my personal gift- since…

… Well since.

I glanced over to one of the high windows that I had propped a bench under a few moments ago, the dim light of a nearby street lamp shining through the barred grate. I could try one of those again as I hadn’t tried the other two but seeing as those grates were made of iron and I didn’t really have a strength spell at my disposal (do we have one of those? I’ll have to bug Zoe as I think we should), I had the feeling it would be nothing more then really yanking at already pretty strained muscles.

It looked like my best option was to wait for backup. So here I was in the romantic candle light…

With one of the biggest pain in the ass demon’s I’ve hunted yet.

Yeah, this hunt was slowly way up the list to the “top 5 worst hunts I’ve been on.”

Just my luck.

I trudged over with a sigh to my favorite deep burgundy leather jacket I had on a nearby bench, leaving it there to keep it (mostly) clean as it had been a gift from my friends when I started with this life (they had said I had to look the part after all).  Quickly I grabbed it and started fishing through the pockets both on the outside and the trick pockets a certain someone (I suspect Nan as she always agreed when I bitched- both verbally and not- about not having enough pockets) had sewn for my phone and the other odds an ends.

Finally finding it, I clicking it on and was met with a weak service sign. I shouldn’t be surprised, it was just as it had been a minutes earlier. I thought about trying to call Stu, my backup for this hunt, once more but the last time I had just managed to get through I had been met with the voicemail instantly.

Either the Stu’s phone had died or he was holed up somewhere with that hot waiter he was eyeing...

God, I hoped the phone died. Stu’s flirting made me sigh and headdesk on a normal basis, he was kinda like a brother I didn’t want but got stuck with. Has been ever since I met him on that old Miller job back when I started. So the last thing I needed was to even think of him having sex cause… Yeah no, hot guy or not- ew.  If I was going to be trapped here with a demon I wanted to be on my guard, not puking my guts up.

I let out a low groan in frustration and had to keep from running my hand over my face as it would probably feel disgusting. Well more so then I already did.

“I suppose this is where we both wait and see who comes first then: The cavalry... Or the Indians,” The demon I had trapped lilted suddenly, obviously putting two and two together.

I glanced over to to see Langdon watching me curiously with a tilt of his head. Guess he knew he didn’t need to ask about the cell service. Well he probably already knew about it, it had probably been part of his plan when he brought me here…

The asshole.

“Or…” I started, seeing an opening. “You could, you know, wave your hand and clear it all up like you did when you made it all fall down.”

Yeah... It was a long shot, I know, but you bet your butt I was gonna try to annoy him enough for it. Telekinesis was not one of my stronger gifts compared to a few other things. Besides it was barely a push compared to what he had showed he could do even stuck in that trap that bound him at his powers on the spot.

And besides, stubbornly annoying people was something I knew I was good at. Hell a certain teacher of mine once said it was one of my gifts, witchcraft not included.

“That would be up to you, Hunter. Perhaps I would consider if you took care of my little problem here,” Langdon insisted, tapping the rug below him with his boot.

I snorted. Yeah right, like I’m going to let your ass out.

“Aww what’s wrong? Can’t use your right hand for that? Don’t know what to tell you, sweet heart...” I told the demon with a grin.

Okay… Not my best comeback and I get the feeling I’d hate myself later (cause, ugh, really? Didn’t we already say we’re not going to go there with him? The hell is with your brain today?) but it was so worth it for his reaction.

He gave me a disgusted look, eyes narrowing, his lips tightened into a line. I have to admit I was a bit gleeful to see it (oh did I make you feel uncomfortable? Good. Cause you’re doing the same for me with your cheap trick demon pheromones, bastard)- but I continued.

“...Besides, I’m not stupid. Don’t insult us both by pretending you wouldn’t skin me alive right after I got you out of there, Demon.”

Just like you did the others.

The words where on the tip of my tongue but for some reason I didn’t say it. Probably because he knew exactly what he did, hell he knew it the second he introduced himself to me. I had been so damn close before he had run last time. Have to admit I was impressed it took him so long to take the bait though. Usually I snag quite a few demons with the whole “Hitchhiking newly Grad Student” bit and I was that age it worked for me. But that’s neither here nor there. He was finally in that damn trap. I finally got him.

I couldn’t help but take step back and almost fall against the wall behind me. I slid down to the floor letting myself breath for a bit.

Not sure if it was pure relief from finally trapping that asshole or from the earlier adrenaline burst- We had a small little tiff before I trapped him, I had a few bruises forming but the asshole barely looked like I touched him, there were a few bullet holes in the far wall that show I sure as hell tried- but I was exhausted. My body was starting to feel heavier, and heavier each moment.

Yeah not good. Not good at all.

I tried to keep myself awake by trying to review my very few options. I could keep calling but what good would a full voicemail do Stu or myself if it even went through? Best way for him to find me would be by leaving my phone on for the GPS signal. He knew I always had my phone and he was a genius with his computer after all. Plus he knew I was working this lead after some curious bits of info came from the most recent found body by the police as well as a little bit of spellwork.

He’d come. I knew he would.

All I could do was wait.

On the floor I was fishing through my jacket again, this time for my earbuds. If I was going to have to sit here and play the waiting game then the least I could do was listen to music until I needed to use the spare battery. With any luck it would wake me up. If Stu didn’t show up quickly and if my demonic friend here did have back up show up before him…

Well...  There was a gun on my left hip holster and a few bullets left in my clip with their names on it. Not like a phone would help me then either.

“And if I were to promise to slit your throat as opposed to skinning you?”  Langdon asked after a bit, an eyebrow raised as he looked down at me appraisingly on the floor.  “It would be faster than the other ways I could kill you with and less painful than what the others would most likely propose.”

I shook my head. Nice try, I thought. But you’re going to have to do better, you bastard.

“Oooh so tempting, let me think… Hmmm, that’s gonna be a hell no.” I said, finally finding my blue earbuds.

Yes!

I went right to the music app on my phone, going right to the playlist that I had saved on there per the insistence of certain close friend (God, I missed her). I made a show of putting in the earbuds as the demon watched. I could see him starting to glare at me coldly as I clicked on the playlist. I was even nice enough to flash a winning smile as I flipped him off, grabbing my jacket and threw it on myself like a small blanket. Yeah I know, will probably need to clean that jacket too but I’d worry more about it later.

Before you ask, no, I normally don’t rest in the room with a demon. That’s like hunting common sense with the use of salt and to always click the safety off before firing a gun. But this demon was locked tightly in the strongest Devil’s Trap I could find, he couldn’t leave that unless the seal was broken either. And that would take me or someone outside the trap scraping the paint off or by cracking the marble floor and I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it. Plus, I seriously doubted he had as many friends he claimed.

A low level black eyed demon like him?

Yeah, right.

Besides the adrenaline crash was really starting to creep in and kick me hard, it was becoming a fight to keep my eyes open, and my vision was blurring. If I pushed it would make things worse or so experience and a few earned scars had taught me.

Meditation, that’s what I can do, I decided. A certain red-haired witch had once said it would help in situations like this. It would be restful but I wouldn’t be sleeping. I tried to clear my mind, ignoring how sticky and dirty I felt and the demon’s cold gaze. It wasn’t easy but slowly I tried to sink into the lyrics from the melodic tones of Stevie Nicks singing…

“...Maybe it’s only a dream

I don’t want to feel that

Well it’s one more link- in the chain

I don’t believe that…”

***

Guess I really need to practice the whole meditation thing as the next time I opened my eyes I was curled in a ball on my right side on the cold stone floor. My phone was utterly dead, and the earbud on my right side was starting to press against my inner ear painfully. I must have dozed off, the songs of playlist lulling me like a lullaby. Yeah, I could almost hear the shaded lecture and the well placed smack up the head from a certain witch if she were here.

I ached from sleeping on the floor but it was an ache I had grown used to since I started hunting. So the pain was familiar at least even if the place I was in wasn’t. I pulled the ear buds out of my ear carefully, trying not to yawn as I reached up slowly, feeling my black tank top creep up my stomach as I stretched out sore muscles. As I did, I gave a bit of a moan that probably sounded pretty pornagraphic. I would be a little embarrassed by it if I wasn’t alone but it felt so damn good.

Too bad my half awake brain completely forgot I wasn’t alone in the least...

“I must admit I’m almost astonished that you don’t snore,” A now familiar velvety voice lilted around me, snapping me awake faster then any cup of coffee could. “You’re a women full of... Surprises, aren’t you?”

I swung over to see Langdon, lounging on the rug like a cat on a lavish throne. There was a devilish smirk on his (already) far too handsome face that made my cheeks burn. His blazing blue eyes running over my form as thought I had invited him to take all the time the the world to do so. A pink tongue suddenly running over his top teeth as though he saw something he was half tempted to bite into...

Oh fucking hell…I thought as I all but clapped my arms to my sides, feeling my face burn and a part of me start to thrum hungrily, start to ache in a way that I really really didn’t need right now. There was that strange pull to him again, starting to kick into overdrive. Beckoning me to his side.

Just kill me now please .

“Were you watching me sleep this whole time, you asshole?!” I almost screeched, wishing my cheeks would stop burning already.

Use it, get angry, I thought. Anger was good, not lust for a damn demon… That’s bad! Seriously, his meatsuit is a snack, I get it! But he’s possessed by a douchebag whose using every damn trick in the book to get under your skin, so...

Let’s not, please.

“Yes, because there is oh so much to do when in a Devil’s Trap.” He replied sarcastically, blue eyes looking away (thank god, I could start breathing again, seriously I’ve dealt with other demons before. Why was this stupid trick getting to me? Don’t blame his looks on this one, I’ve kicked the ass of a few attractive werewolves in the past) as he leaned up to examine his fingernails.

The rings on his hand caught the dim light, onyx and ruby gem’s glinting as I huffed.

“Couldn’t you speak in tongues, twist your head around and spew out pea soup, or find some other way to amuse yourself?” I grumped, trying to fish through my jacket for my spare phone battery.  

Thankfully, my heart rate was starting to go back to normal and my body was cooling down. But the pull to him was still there but I was trying not to be bothered by it or at least trying to not draw attention to it…

Although later I would notice I had inched closer. I was leaning more against the bench then the wall then, slowly drawing closer and closer to him. An unconscious decision I would wonder about later but there was something else that had caught my immediate attention then.

My phone hadn’t gone off yet.

I knew it hadn’t, the ringtone would have cut through the music and woken me up automatically if it had. I had the most annoying one I could think of for Stu after all. I started to go through another pocket as I quickly calculated in my head, it had been more or less fully charged when I turned it on for the music so... I must have been out for a few hours.

Instantly, I wanted to smack myself. Did I seriously leave myself venerable for that long in a room with a demon? What the hell was wrong with me?! Just when I was about to bang my head on the nearby bench when the demon in the room spoke up.

“Oh, I did after a bit,” Langdon told me, getting my attention once more. “In particular I examined the trap you have me in.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head at him, doubtful.

“Cause you know all about Devil’s Traps now do you?” I said snidely as I tore through another pocket.

Not there either. Don’t tell me I left it at the hotel.I felt a jolt of panic that I tried to keep hidden. Crap...

“A bit here and there. I know there are different kinds, of course, befitting the demons of different cultures, religions, and pantheons,” I could hear him drawl on as I searched, cursing the gods if I did leave it behind.

There it is! I thought. Finding the small white battery case next to a spare bullet clip. I put the clip in one of my front pockets (just in case) and I was just about to pop off the back of my cell and change the battery when he continued.

“But I know far more about sigils, seals and.. Keys. Certainly more than most of my kind anyway,” Langdon piped up suddenly.  

I froze, catching his words right away.

How did he-?

...Oh hell.

I looked over to him to see him turn to me fully, a cat-that-caught-the-canary smile forming on his face for a minute before he spoke.

“A normal Devil’s Trap wouldn’t be able to fully... Contain me,” He said confidently. “But the Key of Solomon is something else entirely. This one in particular has been used to bind and control both the demonic and the dead after all. Not many know of it of course only religious scholars or…”

That smile that crossed his face suddenly became a hint darker and that made my blood run cold.

“Those who practice and study magic.”

Oh shit...

“Is that so?” I said trying to sound nonchalant, putting the phone and battery in my jacket pocket, slowly reaching for the gun on my hip.

The bullets in that clip were all carved with the standard Devil’s Trap, but they would do in a pinch; plus “can’t full contain him” my foot, I’d like to see him dig a few of those out of his ass.

“Very smart of you to wait until we were both here alone to finish the Key. I would have notice it earlier during the Black Mass. So tell me, my dear Witch,” He almost spat out that last word as though it were a curse. “Did someone from your Coven tell you to use the Key or was it just a lucky guess on your part?”

The gun on my hip felt cold in my hand but it’s weight was comforting all the same. But I didn’t draw it out. Not yet.

“Just thought a son of a bitch that was as sick and as evil as you deserved a bit of heavy duty work.” I told him cooly.

It was a lie… I had called Bobby Singer a few times, and even made a slew of quick calls home to get the lettering and such of the trap right (Thank gods for Zoe, seriously). I had a feeling he would know I was bullshitting but I was hoping to distract him from the question. I wasn’t going to tell him I had help from the Coven, no matter what.

I had left for a reason. If he thought I was going to spill the beans on my family, my sisters, he had another thing coming

“Oh did you now?” He lilted in mock interest, eyebrow raised as if to ask me to go on.

I could tell he was ready to call me on the fib, but I was ready with the slight curve I would need to throw him off. Or so I hoped…

Demon’s loved to brag after all...

The sick bastards.

“Most monsters kill for food, or because someone pissed them off.” I told him icily. “It takes a special kind of sick son of a bitch though carve up and eat a few kids like you did, just for kicks.”

It looked like it worked, that caught his attention. But what happened next kind of threw me off as well.

As opposed to that stupid disgusting prideful look I had expected, the superiority faded away from his face and he turned to me fully, he looked…

Was he... Stunned?

“Pardon?” Langdon asked, voice suddenly so very different.

Did he sound surprised?

Huh? I wasn’t sure but he had lost that mocking edge entirely. But that wasn’t all, he had a look on his face, like I had told him the sky was anything other then blue. That careful cool of his shaken a bit, not a lot but enough to make him look something a bit more touchable then the high and mighty creature he seemed to portray himself as.

Instantly, I wanted to throw something very sharp and heavy at him.

Was he fucking with me? Did he think he could just pretend it didn’t happen?! All those corpses he left behind. Even normal people were taking notice! They were saying it was the work of a serial killer but those who really knew.. Knew better. He was one hell of an actor. I’ll give him that.  But it didn’t stop me from seeing red.

Getting caught by my own curveball, yeah, later I would appreciate the irony.

“Don’t play dumb with me!” I snapped at him heatedly, unable to stop myself now. “Margaret was eight and Jason was barely three! You remember them now?! They lived just past fucking Lawrence, and you butchered them! Innocent children, you sick fuck! I can even give you the goddamn list of the others!”

I remember the police reports, I remember speaking to the coroners over small mutilated bodies that almost made me vomit.

This demon...

He always started from their feet, their wrists bound, their little voices screaming...

There was a fucking trail of these kind of bodies to this fucking place as he kept it up, learning more…

Perfecting it.

All of which I would be sure to add onto my list of nightmares the legions of hell spewed out on a daily basis. I could hear the names of the lost echoing in my mind like a sick, pitchy, off key song you couldn’t get out of your head. Enraged and shaking, I yanked the gun out of my hip holster, clicking off the safety aiming it right at him. Muzzled pointed right at his forehead, not seeing anything but the monster in front of me I couldn’t see the man he possessed… Not any more.

“I tracked the demon who did this, here to this shithole town. There’s only been one demon I’ve come across, three guesses but you only need one on who that is, asshole.”

Suddenly a dark look crossed the demon’s face.

“I see now,” He said evenly suddenly glancing over to the door that led to the back room before he spoke once more.

“Of course that disgusting insolent coward would try to appeal to me for help... He was running from you.”

Wait...

What?

Did he just…?

“Shame,” Langdon continued. “If I had known that, things would have been interesting earlier.”

Interesting? What the fuck?

“What the hell are you going on about?” I finally said, not quite understanding as my brain was whirring like a hamster in a wheel.

Was he saying-?

“Our little friend in the back room.” He said suddenly, I could swear I heard a low growl in his voice at the word ‘friend’. “He had deviated from the plan and then had the gall to come to me for help thinking he could appeal to my hatred for... Your kind. Unfortunately, he underestimated the weight of his own crimes in my eyes. I felt a suitable punishment was needed. So I let the Satanist’s use him for their Mass to Lucifer earlier. Suppose that Black Mass satisfied more then just one hunger...”

He glanced over to me, the ghost of that terrible smile crossing his face, eyes shining as though he were talking about… I don’t know, lollipops and rainbows or something other then cutting out the heart of a demon.

For some reason that was more terrifying than the normal demonic cole-black eyes.

“I carved the binding link in his arm myself. He was trapped in - what do you hunters call them so eloquently? Ah yes.- His ‘meatsuit’ when they carved out his heart so he would feel every bit of it. No harm no foul, the meatsuit was already dead after all, he had made sure of that.”

Langdon tilted his head as he examined me once more before he spoke. I suddenly felt my throat tighten as it was like I was under a microscope with how his too blue eyes looked at me. Like he wasn’t just looking at me but…

Into me, through me.

“If I had known that you were here for him I would have insisted we kept him alive,” He said. “It would have been fascinating to see what you would have done in that circumstance.”

I lowered my gun slightly. Was he serious?

“And I’m supposed to believe this bullshit... Why?” I asked him.

The demon shrugged, I had the feeling he frankly didn’t care if I believed him or not.

“You can call it bullshit all you’d like but know this, Hunter: I’ve never been a fan of getting my hand’s dirty, Learned that from my father. Besides...”

A slow wicked smile crossed Langdon’s face, it was terrifying and oddly sexy in a way that made me wonder, what the hell was wrong with me today?  

“... Always more fun to entice men and women to dirty deeds. I’m surprised though, I had through you and your friend understood that from visiting my sleepy -as you put it- shithole town above.”

I raised an eyebrow, “sleepy” was most certainly not what I would describe this particular town we were in. Between a growing number of drug busts, and number of illegal brothels, and the fact it was slowly creeping up the list for murder capital… Yeah I think “shithole” was probably a bit more accurate. Although that wasn’t all. In the course of barely few months this place had gone from barely being a blip on the GPS to being almost infamous for crazy shit, almost on par with Las- Freaking-Vegas. It was like… Something was drawing it all here. And that’s disregarding the supernatural signs that had cropped up in the area.

There had been a few freak storms of stones (yeah, it rained stones), a few strang bird patterns. But the big one was an odd number of snakes that had appeared. Some which weren’t native to the area much less the US. Seriously, how the hell do the locals explain a freaking Egyptian Asp in someone’s backyard? Muggles are weird yo.

In fact that was why Stu had been here in the first place when I ran into him. He had suspected some crazy stuff was the cause, but...

“So the whole thing with town, that’s all you?” I asked.

That smile was still on his face as he shrugged so nonchalantly you’d think we were talking about something other than an entire town going dark side.

“I can’t claim credit for all of it.” He said sitting up straighter as he addressed me. “The ideas were already in their simple little heads. I just merely made a suggestion to the owner of a bar or two and… applied the right pressure and stimulus and the God fearing folks of this little tiny town came to sin in droves like moths to the flame. However that discredits your theory that I was ripping children apart in Lawrence though I suppose, doesn’t it?”

I paused, trying to think, my finger still on the trigger of the gun. He could be lying. Demon’s did that but… What he was saying made a hella ton of sense.

Whispers of this place had cropped up long before Lawrence. Hell, we had even heard stories of a few hunters disappearing near here too. But I hadn’t paid them any mind as most hunters took what pleasure they could when they could. Never knew when something would gut you after all.

Besides, that stiff in the back room... He did smell a lot of sulfur, a lot more than normal demonic victims did. I had been enough cases to know demons only left traces of it on their victims, they didn’t reek of it. I hadn’t heard of a binding link before but, I wouldn’t put it past a hellspawn to come up with some way to do it. Trapping a fellow demon in their meatsuit while they tortured them… Yeah I could buy it. Plus, Stu had said something had turned this place into a paranormal magnet, it’s another reason why everyone was so ramped up.  

Right pressure and stimulus.

Oh yeah, demonic energy would do just that. So maybe he wasn’t bullshitting me.

Well… Shit.

I lowered the gun, clicking the safety back on and cursing venomously under my breath. As much as I hated to admit it (and, boy, did I hate to admit it), he had a point.

Plus... Tracking Langdon had felt different. In fact, all the way up until he invited me here, it had felt like he was… Curious. Like a kid poking a passed out animal with a stick, a bit different from the whole come and get me crap the demon from Lawrence had laid at my feet with the last body that was found. I had thought it was strange but just chalked it up to the demon trying to throw me for a loop like it had a few times before.

But if it was true then… I had trapped a very different demon.

So I was pretty much shooting blind here.  Stuck in a underground room with a monster who had almost convinced an entire town to give in to it’s darker impulses. Yeah it was not something I liked. Not at all.

I reached for my phone in my pocket once more, about to change the battery in a hurry to maybe make another call to Stu. I was really hoping he was on his way right about then when suddenly Langdon broke the silence between us.

"Have there been others?" He asked suddenly, lowly. I raised an eyebrow turning back to him. He wasn’t giving me that, haughty look as he had before, rather there was something oddly even in his gaze. It’s strange but… I had a feeling I wasn’t talking to the pompous demon he had been a few moments ago. "Others?" I said questioningly with an eyebrow raised, trying to understand what he was meaning. "Other demons like him-.” -He motioned curtly with nodd of the head to the backroom with the body “-On your hunts.” I stared at him as it took me a bit for his question to sink in. If you want to know the god’s honest truth, I couldn’t believe it at first. Was he really asking if I had encountered demonic kinds of demons? You know, the ones that you had only dreamed of in your nightmares.

For fucking real?

And when it finally did hit me what he was asking I couldn't help but laugh loudly, sarcastically. He had to be joking right? "Wait wait wait! Are you trying to tell me not all you demons are like him?" I snorted.

He gave me a dirty look and I couldn’t help but crack up. Was he really giving me a “Not All Demons” speech here? Seriously!? And here I thought his kind didn’t have a sense of humor! The lights flickered which cut my laughter off. That should have been my warning to tread cautious before he spoke once more. "Answer my fucking question, Hunter," He demanded, his silky voice icy cold, a dangerous edge in his tone that reminded me what he was. I could see barely restrained anger on his face and any humor I had dropped as I leaned forward. So the pretty boy demon wanted the truth? Fine then… “You want to know? Okay…  You’re worse than the fucking monsters I’ve dealt with. I've seen demons like you tear people apart for just existing.” I said cooly.

“Most monsters do it because they are hungry or just to survive in this damn world. But you demons… I’ve seen you kind kill for kicks either cause you could or get your sadistic rocks off. Plane crashes, subway accidents, mass shooters all of it is just a day in the office for you isn’t it? But no… You all aren’t satisfied with that shit are you? You think we haven’t noticed all the disappearances? The deals cashed in early? The murders? The rapes? As far as I’m concerned you can stick your ‘Not All Demons’ bullshit so far up your ass you can choke on it cause as far as I can tell all you fucking demons are the same twisted-.” I stopped my rant as… I felt it then.

The air was... Charged. Like the atmosphere before a terrible storm ready to finally crack the sky itself apart. In fact when I noticed, it didn’t stop rather it was only getting heavier and hotter. Until was so stifling that I was starting to have trouble breathing. I could feel sweat started to bead on my skin like I was sitting out on the blacktop in summer. The candles lit around the room were flickering and fluttering in the still air in a way that made my hunter instincts kick into overdrive. The scent of sulfur was becoming stronger then I had ever smelled it before, it was like sitting in the middle of a mine or some biblical brimstone scene. I looked over to where Langdon sat once more and...

I admit I gasped and stumbled back almost into the bench behind me.  I had to blink, had to convince myself that was I was seeing was real as it was like reality I knew was bending and cracking apart before my eyes. With each flicker of the the light around us it was like Langdon’s appearance seemed to... Flicker with it.

He was starting to look like something other.

I couldn’t really see it very well from the distance but... I could tell his skin was changing from sun kissed gold to something pale. No he was even more pallid than a corpse. In fact I’d dare say his skin was… Stark lifeless white with veins like cracks of gray or black on his skin like it barely kept the darkness back. But that wasn’t all each time his appearance flickered to this… This form he seemed to pull all light out of the darkness and leaving nothing but an empty void devoid of all life, color and form. A void that was only matched  those familiar fathomless demonic black eyes he bore.  He looked something beyond human, something...Very much not from this realm. In fact he looked…

Like a damn demon, not one in hiding. Holy shit.

Was this just peek at what of the real demon inside?! But… All of the lore and stories from other hunters said that only those marked for hell could see it’s minions through the meatsuits. I sure as hell hadn’t made any deals! So how could I-? Wait…

Was he doing that?

Could he be...

Altering his physical form?!

No… My mind and body all but shuddered at the thought. That’s impossible. Demon’s take the bodies of humans because they can’t take their true forms up here. They couldn’t alter their meatsuits to look like their real demonic selves save for the black eyes because it wasn’t their body in the first place!

That was the deal! It couldn’t be done!

But what I was seeing.  It shouldn’t been happening...  

Unless…  

Unless he wasn’t in a meatsuit at all.

If so that meant that body he was in right now was…

No fucking way.

The hair on the back of my neck was standing up, my blood was starting to run cold, I started shaking despite the heat around me. I could taste my heart beating in the back of my throat along with the bile as the sulfur made my stomach turn.

I grabbed the gun in my holster, when it hit me. He said a normal Devil's Trap wouldn't work on him. God, what if he wasn't just bullshitting me? After seeing… this, I think I was a little more inclined to believe him.

This demon wasn’t like the normal black eyes level of demon…

This was almost like… Like…

… A pair of sickly golden yellow eyes shining in the dark as they looked at me seemingly through space and time itself, a terrible grin on the demon’s as they held a bleeding wrist above the small rosey mouth of a tiny baby who was wearing a very very familiar pink onesie...

… My mind was screaming, no no no no no! As I willed myself to raise the gun. Yet... I was frozen. I… I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe, I was starting to shake uncontrollably. I wasn’t sure I could hold the gun steady. And then…   

Abruptly, as if he just realized what was happening Langdon let out a long low exhale. It was... As though he were trying to get a reign on himself. As he did the temperature slowly, carefully started to cool and steady itself to normal. The heaviness in the air... Faded, the flickering stopped, and he once again looked like the handsome man he was before. But I had a gut feeling that appearances were deceiving, and in his case- terribly so. "My apologies," he said suddenly looking up, cerulean eyes (as they were once again) finally meeting mine, the ghost of a wry almost sheepish smile on his face. "It appears my temper almost got the better of me." I had to think a bit before I spoke, the air between us was pregnant with shock and horror. I could feel the echo of tremors still in my body yet they were starting to calm down as I was trying to find the words. My brain still trying to comprehend the creature I had seen just a few mere moments ago, wearing a very very similar face to him yet so very very different. Maybe that was why I decided need to dance around the subject a little as I was trying to understand what I had seen had been real and not some fever dream. "That happened cause you were pissed?" I was able to breathe.

He gave something akin to a shrug before he spoke. "It can, on occasion," Langdon admitted. “I have done far worse when I was angry in the past. You’re lucky I want you alive, Hunter. You wouldn’t have been the first I burst into flame with my temper if I hadn’t.” I snorted but I didn't take my grip off the gun. Although he said that so offhandedly… I had a feeling he wasn’t entirely joking.

Memo to self: Let’s not piss off the demon anymore then we already have cause that scared the hell out of me. Speaking of…

Just what the hell kind of demon was he? "I see you are on your guard once more." Langdon noted, he glanced telling at the gun still in my hand before he spoke once more. “I am sorry if I alarmed you but I do appreciate you telling me all the same…”

He let out a tired sigh that surprised me as it seemed… rather honest and rather real for a fake, lying, cold blooded demon.

“The other demon’s… They would have me believing otherwise, perhaps I should have known better then to fully trust them. I had been warned that some didn’t have the true faith in the plan. We are supposed to be better than your kind but… It appears some of us are worse than the mindless monsters of this world. As much as I hate to say it, you are in the right in hunting those demons.”

I admit-I half thought he was mocking me and was half tempted to raise the gun and point it at him for all the good it would do me but…  Something kept it at my side. Maybe because he seemed to mean it when he said sorry? I don’t know...

This demon was already proving to be… Odd compared to the others. And that was... Well… One part curious and one part troubling.  I wasn’t sure still that he wasn’t being polite because he was trying to earn my trust before gutting me or if it was because he actually was this way. It was the flip of the coin to be honest although I bet it was more heads than tails. Yet… I found myself even more drawn to him.

The pull was strong enough that I found myself taking a few more steps closer to the trap. Maybe to see if I could see him do that again or to see if maybe there was some track of that pale face on him. Either way he terrified me… And I was always oddly fascinated with things that terrified me, even as a kid. "Could you blame me?" I asked him, finally sitting down once more on the marble floor, 5 feet before him in the trap.

"Before this the craziest thing I had seen was when I found a demon with yellow eyes. I thought they were high tier but this… Well, they didn't do whatever it was you did to their face." He chuckled, it was a rich sound that filled the chamber and… It was strange but I found myself rather liking it when it wasn’t terribly sarcastic. "No other demon will, besides me." Langdon said to me almost proudly I rolled my eyes. Pompous much?

“Right," I said sarcastically. "Like I haven't heard that line before."

But I was sure to note that in my mind right away. Cause if he wasn’t a normal black eyed demon then… What was he exactly? I would need to grab as much information on him as I could. Maybe play an angle and see what he would spill? We were stuck here after all.

It was worth a try. Langdon meanwhile flashed a grin that seemed to light up his face. It was strange but I would have almost called it charming if it weren’t for the fact I could see just a trace of darkness in those eyes, like storm clouds in a otherwise clear sky.

“I can assure you it’s true, just as I can assure you no harm when I’m trapped here. Burning your exorcism and the cave in is the most I will want to do while being bound to the Key. Anything else would be rather petty and lead me nowhere in the long run anyway.”

“And if you get out?” I asked him. “What will you do then?”

“Well…” He started, that smile still on his face. “... Possibly a little maiming. You did trap me after all and your terrible Latin burned my ears. I cannot let that go unpunished after all, mild annoyance or no.”

I rolled my eyes at the insult of my Latin (I’m working on it, okay!). Figures, you can take the demon out of hell but you can’t take the demonic out of the demon. I thought before he continued on and I admit… He surprised me for the second time.

“But -I confess- I find you... Intriguing, perhaps a little more so than when I took you here. A Witch turned hunter is curious enough, but not many humans alive can say they have Azazel.”

Intriguing? Me? My thoughts spun before I could stop them

And...Azazel?  The name didn’t ring any bells. Who the hell was that?

“Uhh pardon but, who?” I asked confused, really trying not to get caught on the fact he found me… Intriguing (He’s a demon dammit! Don’t you start feeling all fluttery, you weirdo!).

I released hold of the gun in my holster but kept my hand close by if I need it.

“Oh the ‘yellow eyed demon’ you mentioned. If it is who I suspect, his name was Azazel.” He told me.

I rolled the name around in my head a bit. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I doubt demon’s like to be named “Mark” or something. But… Wasn’t Azazel mentioned in a demonology book I had picked up sometime ago? I’d have to look it up later.

“That was his name?” I asked him incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

Langdon gave a bit of a chuckle.

“He can’t really be called ‘Yellow Eyes’ to his peers, you know.” He told me knowingly.

Too knowingly, so much I almost gasped. No freaking way.

“Wait… Did you know him?” I asked, leaning forward interested.

Have to admit I was disappointed when Langdon shook his head.

“Only from correspondence.” He told me. “He was of the rank that ruled over the demon’s in hell and on earth. And he ruled with an iron fist, so of course I’ve heard of him. You’ll be hard pressed to find a demon who doesn’t.”

Disappointment bit me, hard. I shouldn’t have hoped. Of course my luck wouldn’t let me find the answers I had been running for after a bit of a fuck up like this. But still…

This was new info.

Yellow Eyes was one of the higher ranks…He had led them. No wonder we had been dealing with crazier demons then usual, My thoughts spun.

A part of me instantly thought of two brothers I had met before I started. Who had had told me they were hunting that same Yellow Eyed demon sometime back. I didn’t really remember their names for the life of me but the tall one had urged me to stay at the Coven… But then Hell Gate had been kicked open by someone who was... Like me. And I saw other things when looking in the black mirror…

Things that I made me know I couldn’t stay any at the Coven longer…

As much as it hurt…

I couldn’t.

I wondered if I could find the number the brothers had left. I didn’t know if they were alive as I had heard rumors… But if they were and they didn’t know their quarry had been a high rank freaking demon, plus if the younger of the two was… Like me and didn’t know the truth of what the demon had done to him… Well we may have a slew of problems here soon enough if we didn’t already. But before I could dwell on this any longer, Langdon interrupted my thoughts once more.

“However that begs the question: how did you know him?” He asked.

My eyes snapped up to Langdon’s face. There wasn’t that mocking look or that superior look on his features, he seemed genuinely curious when he tilted his head to look at me.  Like he was actually interested.

I wondered if it was maybe because he was utterly bored or because he hadn’t been stuck in a room with a hunter like this. Then again… I had to admit if it was the latter I couldn’t blame him. I was curious about him as well even though I shouldn’t be. He was already showing to be a strange exception to the rule and I wanted to know why that was.

Maybe he saw the same in me?

Maybe...

I bit my bottom lip, thinking about what to say. I was stuck in a room with him for who knows for how long now and who knew how much longer I would be stuck here. May as well see if I could get more information, more answers. He thus far had been the most informative than most I had spoken to (or interrogated I suppose). And besides…

I needed to play this angle, lemonade out of lemons or something right? Or that’s what I was telling myself then. But what could I say to maybe move this along?

There was only one thought that ran through my head and- as I was want to do on occasion- that thought, of course, ran right out of my stupid mouth.

“Well, a man with yellow eyes killed my family when I was one so you could say I might know him a little. Unless there’s another yellow eyed bastard running around,” I told Langdon bluntly.

Okay…

Maybe not like that but… Okay, I thought with a mental smack. Why the hell had I told him that? It was true of course but… still. He didn’t need to know that!  

I was bracing for the usual demonic bullshit when I swear I had heard someone’s breath catch. I glanced over to see Langdon’s eyes drop to the floor,  a look on his face like he was just reeling after getting smacked. I could see his thought racing through the windows of too blue eyes.

“I see,” He said, suddenly. “I didn’t know he had… That you... I apologize for that.”

His face was now unreadable, yet there was a glint in his cerulean eyes that left me with the feeling that he was anything but emotionless at this. In fact I had a feeling in my gut he… Somehow understood. It was strange, I think he actually meant it once again (two in a row for a demon… Shocking right?). But, he looked almost awkward, as if he couldn’t meet my eyes then as he looked to the plush red carpet he sat on.

“Don‘t be,” I told him with a shrug. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was... So long ago. Besides, I was lucky enough to be adopted by my godmother. Growing up sucked- sure- but it wasn’t too bad all things considering.”

I didn’t dare tell him my godmother was currently in the Coven of New Orleans, even though I hadn’t spoken to her since… Since the day I crossed the threshold of the Academy. No need to tell the demon any more than I already had. Besides… I needed to protect my family, even though most of them probably hated me being here.

If they didn’t hate my guts in general.

“That makes you one of the lucky ones then,” Langdon said suddenly almost making me jump. “Not many can claim that after... Losing a family.”

It was his tone that had me looking to him that strange… Knowing he had that caught me off guard. I guess I turned expecting to see a lie all over his face but instead there was a strange look on his features that startled me.

It was as though he were thinking of something else. Something terrible but long ago and far away,  a memory that had come from the darkness of the past to stab him in the back once more.  I almost lost my breath at how utterly... Human he looked then. Hell, maybe even more human than most humans I had dealt with. Most demons wouldn’t dare look like that in front of anyone. It was a weakness, or so I had learned while hunting them. But what was even stranger was…

I could feel my heart ache for him.

“Speaking from experience?” I asked softly, my voice probably a bit more gentle then advised but I didn’t have the heart to kick myself for it.

He looked up to give gave a empty and blank expression that spoke as many volumes as it hid so much. I wondered what his history was. A history I had a feeling he was kicking himself for just hinting at as much as I was kicking myself for saying what little I had said.

Was he one of those who sold their soul as a human and became a demon? Did he…  Still remember being human? Was that why he was able to change his appearance because it was his own body before?

No, didn’t make sense. Why hadn’t other demons done the same? Besides I think you had to be a certain rank to leave hell and by the time most did their bodies were long rotten, but I couldn’t say that for sure. My demonology was spotty at best save for the whole warding and exorcism part and the best books were days away. I wouldn’t probably have to hit them as I still had more questions than answers

“... Maybe,” Langdon answered with a shrug, his tone may show he didn’t care and I could visibly see his walls start to go back up, but for a brief moment his eyes…

There was a deep pain there,  a deep hurt in his too blue eyes that I could understand. That I could sympathize with. Yeah a hunter with “Sympathy for the Devil”… Irony of ironies. But it didn’t make it any less true.

“I’m sorry,” I told him gently, meaning it so honestly that it startled me…

And yet I meant it with everything I was.

Langdon looked to at me in surprise, eyes not moving from mine suddenly. I felt something strange then… A strange feeling like I was being x-rayed in some way or another. But… I must have imagined it. But I could see he was looking at me carefully. Like he was examining me for any kind of bullshit, any trace of a lie. It left me with the feeling he didn’t really experience things like sympathy often. If my guess was right, demons must not reach out like this to each other with their own kind.

It was... Kinda sad if you thought of it. He must have always been alone.

Suddenly Langdon tore his eyes away with a sigh, long and tired.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” He said dismissively, yet there was something in the way he wouldn’t look me in the eyes now.

I had a feeling he was uncomfortable, he wasn’t the only one either. I was… Actually starting to like him.

Not good, not good at all. Should probably draw the line in the sand… Anymore and it could be a problem for us both. As much as I didn’t want to do it- something told me that he didn’t experience kindness often, before or after becoming a demon was hard to say- It didn’t change the fact he was a demon and I was a hunter. I would have to try to exorcise him if Stu showed up. And then… If it worked, if he didn’t put on that binding link or whatever…

He would be gone.

I wasn’t sure why that stung a little but it did.

No, it didn’t just sting… I hated it, more than I really wanted to get into.

Yeah, better to stop this now before something stupid happened.

“Whatever you say, Black Eyed Asshole,” I relented with a sigh, I had meant that to be a bit more forceful but I could hear that fond edge that I wouldn’t let myself even begin to examine.

Fuck.

I could swear I saw the corners of the demon’s mouth draw up at that. I wonder if he had caught that poorly hidden edge. Or if maybe he was relieved that I was drawing the line again, thinking the same thing or if it was just me.

It probably was just me…

Lord I hope it was.

It would be easy to go back to before then. Didn’t need two idiots in this situation.

“Still? Just because we are on different sides doesn’t mean we can’t be civil while we’re trapped, Hunter,” Langdon pointed out, yet there wasn’t a snide edge in his tone there.

Rather, He almost sounded almost teasing.

Seriously, your supposed to hate my guts. Remember?

“Did you say you were going to maim me if you got out first?” I pointed out with a smirk.

He gave me a smirk in return.

“... I may have.”  Langdon admitted.

“Guess it’s just in my nature but can’t really be civil to people who want to maim me and not in a fun way.”

Fun way? I thought to myself, What the hell is going on with my mouth?

“I suppose I should count myself lucky you have been polite for as long as you have then.”

I shrugged

“I am curious, did you ever discover why Azazel was at your home all those years ago?” Langdon asked me.

I thought a bit before I answered, leaning back.

“Think either my folks made a deal and he came for payment and one neglected to tell the other,” I said flatly. “Can’t say I know other then that.”

I glanced over to him.

“Am I warm?” I asked

“Perhaps. He had a plan he was enacting involving the children of men.” Langdon told me.

This I knew. This I knew all too well.

“You mean the Hell Gate and the Demonic Army?” I asked him.

Langdon raised an eyebrow but nodded in agreement before he spoke.

“Not just that, they were just a small parts of the grand plan.” He told me.

Now...

This I didn’t know.

“Grand plan?” I repeated, leaning forward once more.

Langdon nodded, I could swear I saw the smirk growing.

I was just about to ask what he met when suddenly he held his hand up.

“That’s classified,” He told me cooly, that regal demon making a come back from before.

I must have given him a look as he all but chuckled before he continued.

“It would spoil the surprise. Although... Those idiots you spoke of earlier may be doing that already.”

I raised an eyebrow as he all but spat out the word idiots. He was pretty pissed at the demonic demons wasn’t he? Huh... Wasn’t sure what to think of this. But, yep, I was really starting to like him. As stupid as it was for doing so.

“What are demons suppose to do then?” I asked him flatly. “You keep saying they are supposed to be doing something for this grand plan. You’d think they were supposed to be… I don’t know, demonic.”

He turned to me, I could see the annoyance in every line of his face. But I don’t think it was directed at me this time.

“There are various form of demonic energy as I’m sure you know,” He told me with a look. “Most must be given the expressed permission of hell to use this earth as … The garden for their carnal pleasures. And even those who do so serve a purpose, chaotic as it maybe, it’s a purpose nonetheless.”

I could see his ringed fingers clenched into fists when he spoke

“The leaders of hell don’t care much for unpredictability, unless they are responsible.” He said.

Hmm… You sure do seem to know a bit about them. I thought but I kept that thought to myself.

“So, that’s going to spoil the surprise somehow? That’s what got you pissed?” I asked.

“Something like that.” Langdon replied. “It also answers the question I’ve have of what I need to do next for the plan to come to fruition...”

For some reason that didn’t sound all that encouraging. I was half tempted to ask but I had a feeling that he wouldn’t answer anyway.

“Either way, that explains why you caught my attention when I first saw you.” Langdon said suddenly.

That was so out of left field I wasn’t sure if he knew he had said that.

“What do you mean?” I asked

For a moment I could see a odd look cross his face. I could see him thinking carefully about what he was going to say next.

“Let’s just simply say I have a talent, a certain ‘night vision of the soul’. I can see into the dark places that most try to keep hidden It’s a gift that has served me well. But you… There’s something about you in particular caught my eye and I wanted to understand what it was.”

Huh? Not sure what to make of that. I thought but I filed the information away for later.

“So… What? Do I have a beacon that only animals and pain in the ass demon’s can hear and I not know of it or are you just special?” I asked.

Now this time I could definitely see he was trying hard not to smile. Not sure why I felt a little disappointed for a minute that he didn’t.

“To a point, perhaps,” He confessed. “Only certain demon’s will sense it. However most of the rabble won’t.”

“There a reason for that one?”

“...Quite possibly.”

“But you’re not going to tell me are you? Has something to with the ‘Grand Plan’ anyway?” I said with air quotes around two certain words.

“And here they say you hunter’s aren’t an intelligent lot.” Langdon said with the shadow of a smirk.

I shook my head, I could feel a slight smile on my own face that I was careful to hide. Or I at least tried to when a thought came to me.

“But don’t I screw over that over anyway?” I asked.

Langdon looked at me curiously.

“Why do you say that?” He asked.

He was going to make me say it wasn’t he? Say what I knew. What little I knew.

I took a deep breath, about to admit something I didn’t want to but… He maybe the best lead I had. A simple question that- I confess- I may have also left home to find answers for.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around with me, Langdon, I know.” I told him. “I saw it. You all had a Battle Royale for all of us freaks with demon blood so you could find the one that was supposed to survive and lead the demon army.”

I could swear I heard his breath catch, shock written all over his features. This time I didn’t hide my smile, although it was probably pretty forced.

“You all seemed to forget about there was a witch with the demon blood too,” I told him. “I may have been with the Coven when it happened but… You can’t tell me a few Aura Shields hid me from you guys entirely.”

Don’t think I’m that stupid, I thought. Meanwhile, Langdon was looking at me like I was something else.

“I see you have quite the a talent yourself if you saw that.” Langdon reasoned. “Isn’t the Sight or Divination one of the Seven Wonders?”

“Divination is yes. But I wouldn’t call it that,” I shrugged. “I never see anything good much less a wonder but... Don’t change the subject, Langdon.”

The demon sighed long and low. I had a feeling it was taking a bit for him to say what he was about to say. I would wonder why later.

“I know very little as to why they spared you from the Battle Royale. Perhaps you were already present where they needed you to be for the time?”

That… Wasn’t reassuring. What were they doing that they were keeping in the wings for another day?

And those hunting brothers urged me to stay at the Coven? Should I have told those brothers of what I saw in the black mirror? Did they already know? Wait… The young brother. He was like me, a boy with demon blood…  

Oh God, were they okay?!

These thoughts ran through my head dizzily, I had to push them aside for now. I would try to answer them when I got out of here. When... I wasn’t going to let myself think of an if in this situation.

“You really believe that?” I asked him.

“Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure myself. Azazel… Made a point to not tell me all of the particulars of that part of the plan in our correspondence. In case they could be overheard.” Langdon told me rather honestly. “There were rumors of a ‘Wayward Daughter’ of course, but I had thought them nothing but just rumors… Until now that is.”

Wayward Daughter? I thought. Hmm… I kind of liked the ring of that. Wonder if I could embroider that on the back of a jacket or something.

“So demon’s have a rumor mill?” I said giving him a surprised look. “Aren’t you supposed to be better than us or something?”

“May I remind you of your kind has racked up a body count in the past century that surprised even us?” Langdon said giving me a look.  

I winced.

“Touche,” I replied.

Langdon shook his head a ghost of a smile, a real smile not a smug smirk or grin,  on his face. I found myself wondering if he would look even more stunning if he smiled but I only let myself think it for a brief moment. Just a moment.

“I am curious though,” Langdon said suddenly.

“Oh?” I said. “What now?”

“How much you have seen of our plan in your black mirror.”

I shook my head.

“Obviously not enough if I’m asking you,” I pointed out.

“Indeed, you’re here after all. As opposed to being with them.”

Them?

Suddenly I felt a wave of cold dread at those words sunk in. Was he going to ask me about the Coven? Oh no.

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

I was trying to keep my voice steady, even. But I could feel my throat tightening in the face of those fathomless blue eyes. Langdon meanwhile didn’t seem to notice. At least not yet as he looked to me, curiosity written all over his features.

“Is that not the reason you are here?” He asked, with a raised eyebrow. “You want answers, you want to know why Azazel chose you. Why you were singled out with a different role to play.”

Before I could answer he suddenly spoke, a look on his face like he had just noticed something.

“No… It’s not just that isn’t it?”

Out of nowhere, I was frozen. Unable to move under the laser focus of his too cerulean eyes. This time I knew it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me. He was… He was doing something. Wasn’t he? But what-?

Suddenly something he had said came back to me.

“Let’s just simply say I have a talent, a certain ‘night vision of the soul’. I can see into the dark places that most try to keep hidden…”

Did that mean…?

Oh…

Oh shit.

I wanted to yell at him then, to jerk away from the terrible feeling like my insides were suddenly being scrutinized. At the same time I wanted to rung into the trap and beat the holy hell out of him for looking into something I didn’t want anyone to look into. I was alone for a reason damn it! But… I couldn’t move. Fear or maybe something else made it so I could barely breathe.

All I could do was sit there as a demon was examining my damn soul.

No… No please don’t!

“It’s more than that.” Langdon breathed as I could feel him start to see what I didn’t want anyone seeing. “It’s one of the reasons you are here but it’s not the true reason you are here. Not the only reason you do this…”

Stop! I screamed in my head as if he could hear me. Shut up and stop! I’ll… I’ll let you out just please!

DON’T!

“You’re here for them.” Langdon breathed, leaning forward as he seemed to see something else. Something that I couldn’t see as opposed to feel.

Stop...I could hear my heartbeat before he spoke once more.

“The pain you feel, the loneliness in your soul... You think doing this will keep them safe. That if you stay away you will protect them and you don’t care if they hate you for it. In fact… It makes things easier for you doesn’t it? Because… The truth is you fear what you are. What you can do. What the demon blood has helped you to do… The power you have with it. The power unlike any witch has ever had… Save for one that only comes with each new generation. Hunting and being alone is your penance… Your absolution...”

Suddenly the strange lazer focus, the feeling of being examined from the inside out was gone but I was still frozen. I still could barely breathe as I felt my heart pound. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t dare.

Just like that a demon had cut my soul open and dissected it it. Peeling back layer upon layer of armor I had built to protect myself.

I pretended I was okay with this life. That this was a choice I had made.

… But it wasn’t.

Not really.

No one really chooses to be a hunter. That’s what the hunting brother’s had told me. No, this life chooses you.

And what other life could I live with this… This thing!?

I had thought my growing powers to be a gift, that with our Supreme lost or dead, that maybe... In fact when we were taking the test of Seven Wonders I had thought…

Maybe it was supposed to be me?

I wasn’t much of a leader but I had those around me. I could try to do the things that they wanted. Maybe save the Coven from the darkness. After all… I had convinced Bobby Singer that we witches weren’t the monsters that they all hunted hadn’t I? But then when I went to perform Concilium… I had felt it.

I had pretended I was having trouble with it but that wasn’t true. I could do it but… It had wanted more more than just Madison. It had wanted Kyle, it had wanted Zoe. It had wanted Queenie, Myrtle, Misty…

It had wanted Cordelia.  

And the urge it had. What it wanted me to make them do to themselves… To each other...

This wasn’t the power of the Supreme. It couldn’t be. This was something else.

It had been fate the brothers had come that night. And it was that very night… I discovered I couldn’t stay. Not after that. Even now I was terrified to use magic as I could feel it still, in the background. Waiting… Begging.

And now… The demon… Langdon…

He knew.

I could feel it in how he was looking at me but I didn’t dare look him in the eye.  I felt hollowed out,  aching, empty, and alone. So very very alone. And angry…

So very very angry.

“I bet you think I’m pathetic don’t you?” I said suddenly, my voice surprising even me even as I refused to look Langdon in the face.

I all but jumped to my feet, glaring at the marble floor as I finally jerked on my jacket. I ignored the feeling of fabric of the lining rubbing against dirt and dust as well as the guilt that I had done the one thing I was trying to protect this jacket from but… I needed the feeling it gave me.

Myrtle had joked it was my armor when she and the girls gave it to me. And I needed all the armor I could get right now.

“Maybe I am pathetic.” I continued. “A stupid little witch bitch for protecting a group of women who aren’t even my blood when I could have ruled them all. But they are my family and what this shit in my veins was wanting me to do to them… I wouldn’t expect you to understand and- personally- I think you can go straight to hell or whatever festering pit you called out of fucker cause I can assure you, I’m going to make it my damn mission to make sure you won’t go anywhere else.”  

I didn’t dare look at his face as the bastard all but pinned me to a wall and I didn’t dare try punching him across his damn handsome jaw as I wanted as all bets were off if I crossed into the Devil’s Trap. Shooting him was out of the question… I may need the bullets here soon enough. Instead I stepped on the bench I had set under the high barred window, reaching for the iron bars and looking up at the moonlight.

Seriously where the fuck was Stu?

“... I don’t.” Langdon breathed suddenly.

I felt a flash of anger at his voice and I took everything in me to not scream at him.

“What?!” I snapped at him instead over my shoulder.

And then he said a few words that cooled my anger like throwing a candle in a pond.

“I don’t find you pathetic.”

I took a deep breath, my hand starting to clench on the iron bar above me as I slowly turned to look at him behind me. I could feel feel any words I was about to say stop at my throat.

Langdon looked… different now.

He was still the haughty demon but��� There was something in his face that was strangely bare as he looked up at me from the floor. Something as bare and as naked as I felt before him.

“You want to keep them safe,” He told me knowingly. “Even though everything in you wants to be with them… You choose not to. You make a point to try to make the best of your situation, even though a part of you hates it, you do it anyway. How can I see that as pathetic? Stupidly selfless perhaps but… I must admit I admire you for doing it. Not most can do such a thing… Run away from a family that accepts them for the sake of said family.”

I couldn’t help but turn to him fully now. I was baffled, stunned. And yet… Something in his voice. Something in the way he looked up at me… It caused my heart to stop for a moment.

It was as if he knew how I felt…

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” I admitted.

It was true. I really didn’t know what to say. What could I say?

“Take it how you wish… Perhaps Azazel was wrong and should have named you to be the one to lead the army. You certainly have the qualities of a leader But he had…  Other plans for you.” I stepped off the bench and strode over to the trap.

“I thought you said you didn’t know what he wanted me for or why they didn’t come for me.” I pointed out, a slight smirk on my face.

“I don’t, but... I have my suspicions.” Langdon admitted getting to his feet.

“And they are?” I gave him a look.

Come on share with the class here. You had to do your Soul X-ray on me.

You owe me this Langdon.

But of course Langdon had to remind me he was a damn demon.

“Also classified.” Langdon said with that damn smile.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to smack him for or… Do something else. It’s strange but I wasn’t kicking myself as hard on that now as I don’t think it was just demon pheromones this time. At least I didn’t think so.

I still made a show of sighing loudly.

“You’re a damn tease, do you know that?” I told him, rubbing my temple, half wondering if this strange switch he kept pulling on me was going to give me a headache here soon.

Maybe if this kept up.

“So I have been told.”

I sighed, my arm falling to my side as he gave me that stupid smile. Yet I didn’t feel as annoyed as I knew I should be. After all, this demon had more the answers to the questions I had been looking for since I left New Orleans then he would care to admit but it… Didn’t bother me.

Nor was that all...

It was strange but, standing before him this close... I had the urge to reach out and touch him. I shouldn’t but it… It was like it was magnetic. Like something in me wanted to assure myself he was there, that this had happened. I could have ignored it like I had been this whole time but…

I didn’t.

Later I would blame the strange demonic face I saw earlier, and I just wanted to be sure what I was seeing was real. Later I would blame the whole fact I was getting stir crazy being stuck in a foxhole with a demon. Later I would blame the fact that… Compared to all of the demons I had met he seemed to be the most human. That pain and sadness reflecting in  his eyes that hid just beneath the surface. Something I could understand as easily as I could the need to breath. But…

I didn’t even realize I had lifted a hand and was reaching out for him. Not until suddenly...

A hand was grabbed my wrist.

His grip firm but like iron, his touch a lot warmer than I expected but it was like being doused by cold water as I realized what was happening. I shook my head trying to shake the strange feeling I had like coming up for air.

Reality hit me hard an- almost instantly- a shock of panic ran up my body. I tried to jerk my arm back but he had my wrist locked in his ringed fingers. I could try to shake it off but I could sense my own strength would be like punching a stone wall compared to his.

… I had my arm in a devil’s trap with a very powerful demon…

A demon who probably could do more then just rip my arm off...

Shit shit shit!

I was so dead.

I closed my eyes and, braced myself for more pain then any human or witch could take, for the encroaching blackness. The only thought running through my head being that Cordelia would probably sew me up and bring me back if only to kill me again for everything when they sent was left of me back to New Orleans.

But once more…

This demon surprised me.

“I had wondered how much the blood affected you.” Langdon spoke, with a chuckle.

I swallowed hard and opened my eyes, preparing to face my very very gruesome death. But I hadn’t expected that slight boyish smile Langdon was wearing.

“As much as I enjoy the look on your face, I really recommend you don’t given into it like that especially with a demon you trap yourself unless you truly do have a death wish.” He told me conversationally, like he wasn’t holding my life in his hands.

“Oh sure I do this all the time,” I replied sarcastically.

And then something hit me.

“Wait did you make me do that?”

“No,” He said simply. “I have as much control over you as any demon does the others of our kind. However…”

His thumb ran across my pulse point on my wrist. As it did something… Shifted in me. It was like the strange tension I had with him being in the room with me started to fade away. I didn’t feel so pulled to him as I had before, rather it was more a small tug as opposed to a bodily jerk.

“How… How did-?” I asked as it washed over me like waves on the beach.

“It appears Azazel’s Gift is drawn to me.” Langdon told me. “It seemed only natural I could cool it.”

“Yeah that’s not weird as hell.” I told him. “But… thanks I guess.”

“It’s no trouble.”

He wasn’t letting go of my wrist. That should have bothered me. But… It didn’t. I wondered why that was.

“It’s never done this before.” I told him. “I don’t understand, why now and… Why you? Who are you, exactly?”

It was the closest I could get to the question I really wanted to ask the image of the strange pale face still vivid in my memory from just a few moments ago. Now this…

What are you?

Meanwhile Langdon was giving me the beginnings of a smile. I could swear for a moment I saw the pale face he had flickered before. Even the hand on my wrist felt different for a moment but before I could focus it was gone.

“I’m someone who’s coming was foretold a long time ago,” Langdon told me. “I’m sure have many names but you, hunter... You can call me Michael.”

Michael...

Michael Langdon… I let the name roll around in my head. There was a strange musical quality to it. One I hadn’t expected but….Guess after ‘Azazel’ I was expecting something equally ridiculous but…  

I felt a real smile cross my face.

“It suits you.” I told him.

For the first time, he smiled, and it wasn’t that wicked grin or that smug smirk. It was an actual smile that reached his too blue eyes and once again I wondered things that were probably dangerous. He still had my wrist in his hand, and was running a finger over that pulse point but… I didn’t have the urge I did before to jerk away. Nor did I get the feeling he was doing it to cool the blood. Not any more.

It was then we both heard it. A sound that seemed to echo in the chamber like thunder.

The sound of a car pulling up.

I turned to look at the window behind me, waiting on bated breath as I heard a car door open and close…

And another.

And another.

And then… The sound of another car pulling up, rang out. As it did my heart sank. I could feel a slight squeeze at my wrist as though Lang-No Michael… His name was Michael- seemed to come to the conclusion I did: I had only called one hunter after all. So that meant one thing… I reached over to touch the gun on my hip.

I don’t know how many where up there but I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

And then a voice rang out, echoing in the chamber.

“Ash?!”

That voice… It was calling out my name.

“Ash are you out here?!”

Stu.

I must have breathed his name as Michael suddenly spoke.

“So your cavalry has come after all.”

I turned as it was then, oh so gently, he let go of my wrist and I would be lying if I said suddenly I felt just a little colder than before. I turned to see him looking up at the grate, but it was as if he were looking something far far away. I was tempted to say something to him but I wasn’t sure what, when suddenly Stu was calling once more, his voice a lot louder and a lot closer.

“Hey you alive?!”

I had to tear myself from where I stood before the trap and ran to the bench to climb up to reach up to the grate.

“Over here!” I called between the bars.

I could hear someone I didn’t recognize curse in surprise and there was the sound of boots hitting gravel as someone ran over to the window. I never thought I would be happy to see Stu’s slightly scruffy, warm face and goofy grin through that damn iron grate but I guess I could still be surprised.

“You’re late, you dick!” I told him with a grin despite the war I could feel in my chest. “I hope it was a good date at least.”

He chuckled.

“And here I was worried you were on the edge of death!” He said. “It sounds like you are having too much fun down there.”

“Oh you missed the party I have been having. It’s been a wild ride.”

Stu grinned. He glanced over his shoulder.

“She’s over here!” He called out.

That surprised me. It had just been us on this hunt or so I had thought.

“You make a few friends while I was stuck?” I asked him when he turned over to me.

“Just made a call to Singer’s, you know how Bobby almost knows everyone. Luckily there were a few hunter’s nearby.”

“Has she exorcised that demon yet?” A woman's voice called out, one I didn’t recognise, I could hear shoes on gravel as she got closer.

“Don’t think so!” He called over to her before he turned me. “What, did you get the Latin wrong again?”

“Seriously it was one time and no, idiot, he torched it.”

“Wow, seriously?” He asked, he looked half fearful and half impressed.

“That’s not surprising.” The women’s voice said suddenly, closer than before.

Stu moved to the side as an the women knelt down. She had long brown hair with a few hints of gray that fell past her shoulder, she had a few wrinkles but a kind face.

“I had guessed he was a strong one,” She told me. “I’m Madelyn by the way and I was thinking that Stu’s problem was a demon I was actually looking into this one when I got the call.”  

Stu gave me a grin as he examined the window from the outside.

“Think these grates can be popped open.” He told us. “What do you think?”

The women examined them carefully before she nodded.

“Maybe a crow bar. I don’t think the screws are iron too. But if not Phil does have a Reciprocating Saw,” Madelyn said getting to her feet. “I’ll tell him to get it ready.”

She seemed to walk away as Stu turned back to me with a grin.

"Guess I was right about the whole paranormal magnet thing eh?" He told me.

I shook my head with a laugh.

“You could say that agian.” I said.

"Well no worries, we're going to exorcise that sucker and that will be two birds with one stone!" I could feel a twinge in my chest at that, I glanced over at Michael whose face was unreadable. I didn’t tell Stu but... had a gut feeling it wouldn't work after seeing that pale face Michael bore. He may be demonic but… This was a whole new brand of demonic that I doubted a simple Latin exorcism would work. If that was his own body then could it be possible he was… Something else more than demonic? And besides...

Did I even want to exorcise him? I found myself wondering. He had made sure that demon I was hunting was taken care of, that child murderer wouldn’t be bothering anyone anymore. One more monster put down for good. Plus, maybe it was the whole "foxhole" thing we had here but I...

I...actually liked him.  I could sense…Something different from him now that I knew for sure he wasn’t the monster I thought. A monster, yes, but a different flavor of monster...Like me. And he seriously looked as pissed as I had been with the demons who walked this world…

Maybe…

“Just hurry up Stu!” I shouted. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“On it!” I could hear him say suddenly.

I could hear a shuffle making me think he must have moved away from the grate. I was just about to try to think of the next step when something caught my ears.

“You know it’s not true right?” Michael said behind me breaking the silence.

I swung around to see him standing up rimrod straight, proudly just as he had when he took me down here, his hands behind his back as he looked to me.

“What do you mean?” I asked slowly, trying to ignore that feeling of dread in my gut.

Something was wrong... "Those people he’s with,” Michael told me evenly, as though he were talking about the weather. “They are plenty of things but they certainly aren't... Hunters like yourself and your friend. Madelyn especially...” At first I was confused and then it hit me.

He said he didn't kill the demon in the back room. He said there were others, had mentioned Satanists... I had thought he was lying but now I knew he didn’t really had any reason to lie. Not really.

So that meant... Oh god no.

In a panic I swung around up to the grate.

“STU GET BACK OVER HERE!” I screamed as I almost leapt back on the bench. “STU!”

Silence, I could hear voices in the distance but I had the feeling they didn’t hear me, or maybe they were making it so he couldn’t hear me. I tried to shake the bars to no avail.

Stu was trained like me of course. Monsters were one thing, people who worshipped demons and hellspawn though... Were something else.  Stu wouldn’t expect it if he wasn’t warned. Bobby Singer’s seal of approval was something you worked your ass off for. Even the Coven treasured it.  

Those Satanists probably killed the real hunters Bobby Singer had mentioned to him. Maybe even killed the ones who had gone missing in the area. It would explain why this place had seemed untouched before Stu and I even with all the signs saying otherwise.

"They are going to kill him aren't they?" I breathed in horror, turning back to Michael. His blue eyes didn't move from my face as he gave a slight nod. "Would it pain you if they did?" He asked. “Be honest now, he left you here for hours with me after all. He could have come running sooner... But he didn’t.” "Would it-?! He doesn’t specialize in demons like I do! He probably needed the help! He's an asshole but that doesn't mean he deserves a death like… That!."

I motioned to the black altar, even hours later I could still smell the coppery sulfuric blood.

"Is that what you think?" Michael asked. He wasn't being condescending, or cold, I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was truly curious. Perhaps it was because I had been nothing but honest to him. Maybe it was because that whole “Wayward Daughter” crap... But... Michael wanted to know what I think. Truly. "No, that is what I know," I told him honestly. "Just as you know you demons are supposed to be something different then the ones I’ve been hunting!" At that he tilted his head, examining me with that piercing gaze that made me feel once more like I was being put under an x-ray.

“And what would you be willing to do to defend him if it came to it?” He asked. “What could you do save for... One thing?”

I could feel a lump in my throat forming. Was he proposing…

A deal?

I could feel myself shaking as I actually found myself considering... Could I do that?  As much of an idiot Stu was I couldn’t let him die.

But could I sell my soul for it?

Would he forgive me if I did? Would the Coven?

Would 10 years be enough?

No.

No, it wouldn’t… I had seen enough people after the ten years were up before the hellhounds came. Seen the deep regret, the fear as their short respite was just that… And too short compared to eternity.  I’d rather die now and get it over with then live with a expiration date the rest of my life. Unless..

It was then another idea came to me. It was risky. But at the same time… Michael,had said Azazel had chosen “special children” for a reason, part of their Grand Plan. And I had been set aside for a reason. Neither of us know it but… It must be important for them.

It was crazy but… It just might work.

I raised the gun and pointed it…

At my own temple.

The curious look on Michael’s face was replaced with utter horror and shock as he gasped. I could swear he breathed out the word, No, under his breath but I must have imagined it.

“This answer enough for you?” I told the demon,  trying to ignore the scent of gun oil and the cold metal against the skin of temple.

It was then I clicked the safety off, the sound seemingly echoing in the chamber. This seemed to smack Michael awake from his stupor. He took a few purposeful steps toward me until the Key caught him once again. Like a pull of an invisible leash he was jerked back. He tried to fight it but it pulled him back once more.

“Don’t-!” Michael started almost desperately.

I smiled.

Gotcha.

“Call off your friends and I’ll lower the gun.” I calmly. “After all my dying puts a wrench in this Grand Plan doesn’t it? You may not be willing to tell me what it is but I know this much...”

I leaned forward.

“... Azazel was saving me for something... That much is obvious. So either call off your goons or say goodbye to your Wayward Daughter. Your choice Michael.”

I could see the demon’s jaw tighten, his lips becoming a tight line and then...

...Suddenly Michael broke out into a wide smile.

“You’re a fighter to the very end I see. No wonder why Azazel liked you.” He said.

Michael leaned forward conspiratorially.

"You have my word but… I recommend you and your friend don’t do anything to terribly stupid when they go to take you. And they will try."

I swallowed but I nodded. I know… The word of a demon but like Michael had said a few times before:

He wasn’t like any normal demon.

I shouldn’t trust him… But I did. God forgive me I did.

“Hey you still alive in there!” Stu shouted down.

I lowered the gun and swung around, going back to the bench.

“Where are the others?” I all but demanded when I got back to the grate.

“They are going to check out this cave in of yours. See how bad it is on the other side, meanwhile Mad’s and I are going to check out this thing.” He told me. “We’re going to get you out of there one way or another. Now we just need Madelyn to come with that saw-.”

It was then I saw it… A shadow shift behind him over his shoulder. "Stu behind you!" I shouted.

It was barely a warning when he turned only to get smacked rather hard.

“Damn you!” I shouted, smacking the iron grate with an open palm as Stu slumped before the window, out cold.

“Oh sweetie, don’t you know?” That voice said, sickly sweet. “I’m damned already. So I may as well enjoy the ride all the way to hell.”

I glared at her as Madelyn as she stepped from the shadows and took Stu’s pulse.

“Huh… Looks like you hunter’s are tougher then you look.” She said.

I raised the gun to point outside the bars of the grate.

“Leave him alone or so help me-.” I started.

“Oh I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you, sweetheart,” Madelyn told me. “After all… That demon you have trapped taught us a few tricks too.”

Before I could ask what she meant there was a loud boom like a bomb going off behind me. The force of it all but knocked me off the bench, my gun flying from my hands (I was lucky it didn’t discharge) I could hear the metal as it clattered to some far end of the chamber.

My ears were ringing, I could taste the wave of magic that spell left behind. I hadn’t been done by a magic user but it was one of those spells that I could tell didn’t need one…

Guess selling your soul to Satan had a few perks.

I scrambled to my feet looking to to the direction of the sound as my ear’s rang with an ungodly screaming. The rubble that I had been digging through hours ago was now mostly cleared away now and clear enough for a woman to step through wearing red robes. Her curly dirty blond hair just reaching her shoulders, her pouty lips in a scowl when she caught sight of me, a severe look crossing her face. My stomach sinking as I recognized the golden symbol embroidered across her chest: An Inverse Pentagram.

She was the High Priestess.

Oh hell.

I quickly started to look around for the gun. When suddenly a hiss caught my ear. I looked over to Michael. He was seemingly untouched by the dust and dirt that had exploded all over the room either by magic or by some other force that protected him. He was giving me a pointed look from where he stood unfazed in the trap.

Don’t do anything terribly stupid, He had advised. I could tell he was thinking that again as he shook his head so slightly.

I bit my bottom lip and glared at him but… I stopped. I swallowing hard.

Here’s hoping your word is worth something, I thought, as I raised my hands up as if in surrender.

“Well well, it looks like we have a hunter with a brain after all!” I could hear Madelyn pipe from the grate behind me.

“Yes small wonders do exist do they?” The other women said suddenly before approaching where Michael stood trapped.

As she did a strange mouse faced man (Phil? I guessed), wearing red robe walked through the hole punched through the rubble nor was he the only one. It looked like there were a few others behind him.

“My lord,” The first women said before bowing lowly before Michael along with the other Satanists. “Are you alright?”

“As well as can be expected.” He told them coldly.

I could almost see that persona he had earlier- Langdon- click into place. I wasn’t sure who he was to them but I could tell he was some sort of leader… Did he have like a cult? No, he just said they were Satanists. But…

Most demons didn’t care about humans didn’t they?

Maybe so, or so I thought as he turned to the small congregation.

“Help Madelyn bring our little unconscious hunter inside, it’s far too cold for him to be asleep inside. He will not be that way for long.” He told them before turning to me. “And kindly restrain my captor, I want them both here as I pronounce their sentence for disrupting our unholy cause.”

I would have preferred him to punch me in the gut. You fucking liar! I wanted to snap as my heart sank. Ignoring the pain in my chest that had erupted suddenly (you stupid idiot! You should have known better). Quickly I went to look for the gun when suddenly two Satanists appeared before me in their red robes.

Oh no you don’t.

I knew I was dealing with people who probably hadn’t fought someone like me a day in their life when One tried lunged forward to grab me. I  dodged it and took the opening I had with him learning forward, kicked out in a perfect snap kick right under his jaw. The top of my combat boots snapping his jaw shut. He head jerked back as he stumbled falling on his ass.

I swung around to the other one, a women who was angrily swinging a punch at me so stupidly wide that I ducked easily. As I did I quickly aimed a few sharp snap punch right across the ribs, each hitting hard enough to hurt like a bitch as she cried out. I feel the start of a few bruises on my knuckles but no time for that. I shuffled closer, grabbing her from her robed back and jerking her so my raised knee met her gut. I let go of her to let her hit the marbled floor, hearing her wheezing hard.

I was about to turn to whoever was next when suddenly I was bodily thrown back against the wall. The force just hard enough to knock the wind out of me but not hard enough to crack my skull. I struggled, trying to get my breath back and looked up to see Michael holding his hand out a tell tale smile on his face.

Shit.

I tried to jerk forward but it was like I was being held back by iron shackles to the wall. I could feel his power crash against me like a wave against the rocks. It was then I saw a Satanist near where the rug had been pulled up stand up, a knife on his hand. A knife I was betting had just scraped a bit of spray paint off the floor.

The seal was well and truly broken then.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t go without a little bit of a fight in the end,” The demon said with a quirk of lips as though it amused him.

I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to kick myself for thinking I could trust him for letting myself be played by a damn demon, I wanted to punch a few more of these assholes and maybe him a few times. But I just kept my mouth shut, my jaw straining from clenching it as a few people emerged from the entrance holding up an unconscious Stu between them. They all but dragged him to where I was against the wall and threw him before me like a pile of dirty laundry before stepping back.

The two Satanists who I had smacked around getting to their feet as well, looking at me with so much hate you’d think they were the real demons and I had cried out “Cristo.”

I could hear excited whispers and voices from the small congregation of Satanists as the High Priestess spoke up suddenly.

“These two have not only come here to attack our way of life...” She said to the congregation before us.

She spoke a politician before a rally as she stepped forward to where I was pinned. I could hear a few members of the congregation all but cheer her on, latching on to her words like they were the starved masses being given bread for the first time in a long time.

The high priestess stopped when she was standing before me. Hate twisting her features to something ugly, but I looked her dead in the face all the same. Just to piss her off I gave her a grin.

“...But they have entrapped our lord, our savior before us. Where this any other circumstance we would strip them of their worldly finery and give their so called righteous hearts to Lucifer in the Black Mass. However...”  

She turned to Michael, taking a few steps before him and before kneeling.

“We leave it to you to judge them and condemn them as you see fit my lord, it was you that they have wronged the most after all.”

The congregation of Satanists followed their high priestess, kneeling before him, all around him like a small sea of red. I could see the quirk of his lips as I could tell he was enjoying this.

“I accept your choice to leave their fate’s in my hands, Miss Milton.” He told her, letting his hand fall almost gracefully to his side yet the force was still there holding me up against the wall.

It was then he stepped form the broken trap, and I could swear I felt the the earth itself shift as he did but I must have imagined it. He closed his cerulean eyes, a pleased smirk crossing his face as he relished stepping from the trap. When his eyes opened he looked right at me, that damn look still on his face as she started to step forward. Each footstep echoed in the stone chamber like the bells of doom.

Once again I wondered if I was looking into my death but… I tossed that thought aside. I was supposed to play a part in this grand plan right? No, it was Stu I was mostly worried about. Stu who was groaning awake, as Michael stepped over him until he was standing in between us both.

His eyes breaking eye contact if only to examine Stu. I couldn’t see his face but I could tell he was thinking carefully. I watched him on bated breath when suddenly he spoke.

“Let them go.” Michael decreed.

It was a good thing his power still pinned me against the wall I would have fallen over in relief. But I think I was the only who was happy about it. Almost instantly a flurry of hush whispers erupted. But it was the High Priestess in particular that spoke up

“My lord?” She said agast, I could see her looking up in shock

“You heard me,” He said. “Let them go. Or do you question my judgement now, Hannah? Shall I remind you the state his congregation was in when I found you?”

Almost instantly the whispers were silenced. The high priestess lowered her eyes in respect, in fear.

“No… Never my lord.”

“Good.” Michael said. “After all… One should not kill the messengers sent by Lucifer himself even though they may be unwitting messengers after all.”

What? I wanted to gasp. Nor was I the only one, I could hear gasps and whispers once more around the room.

“Mich-My lord?” A voice called from the back.

I looked over to see Madelyn red robes over her clothes now,  she looked to Michael as confused as I felt. I could see him smile fondly as though to calm her. I wondered who she was to him as she seemed to know his name like I did.

“Remember the tales I’ve told you Madelyn when you found me, lost in the wilderness. The stories of the Wayward Daughter.”

There was a slew of gasps. Nor where they the only ones. I was tempted to snap at him that he wasn’t sure of this “Wayward Daughter” at all but something in me told me that wouldn't’ be a good idea. Don’t do anything stupid, he had said. I had a feeling speaking out against him while he spoke to them was one of those “stupid” ideas.

“She has made it clear to me there are some of Satan’s army who have rebelled against his wishes. They have defied their father… Their god.” He said, addressing them as confidently as king would to his army.

His voice may not have been talking to them loudly yet it still echoed off the chamber walls,  I could see them drink up every word of his like water.  

“These demons are not tempting people to his side, they are killing them, consuming them. Turning them into martys for the side we desperately wish to destroy. Betraying the Great Plan.” He told them heatedly, I could hear the anger dripping off every word in his silky voice.

“This is merely making our enemies even stronger, forcing mankind off the path to it’s own destruction. How can the Dark Messiah and cleanse this world if we have so many trator’s in our midst?”

I had to try not to let my jaw drop. Holy shit… Was he-?

“My lord, please! Let us find them for you!” No fucking way… Was this demon-?

Michael smiled at them.

“Very well my dear believers, tell all those that walk the different path. Tell them to hunt these monsters down, bind their black souls to the bodies of those they possess. Carve out the smoke that fills their hearts in the Black Mass and send them to hell to face the wrath of their leader. I shall tell Him to expect those traitors to punish as he sees fit and you shall be rewarded by the hellfires when the chosen son finally rises and this world burns.”

The red robed men and women bowed lowly over and over again. I could hear chorus’ of “Hail Satan” and “Ave Satanas” as they did so. I just couldn’t help but look at Michael in shock.

He had somehow convinced a group of Satanists to hunt the very demons they worship and from what I can tell others soon would follow. What the hell kind of demon was he? Who was he that they were so willing to do this?

But I before I could wonder any more than that. He turned to me, stepping closer so he was once again so close I could touch... if I could move that is. I was hit with the scent of amber, leather and something else… Something that wasn’t sulfur like most demons but it had a strange spice and musk to it. Something that had me feeling it was like a taste of the deeper circles of hell. One we had yet to discover anything from.

Once more he spoke yet his voice was low. Something that I know he was making it so only I would hear.

“You’ve done very well. You’re friend will live to die another day. However…” He trailed off.

He reached over to gently trace my jaw with the backs of his fingers, his skin felt warm and making my face burn but I refused to jerk away. I just glared him dead in the eye.

Just do what he said. Do what he said and we will get out of here alive.

I tried not to notice how my heart hammered in my chest, or how body started to heat up once more when he stepped closer or how that pull was tugging me towards him once more despite the enchantment that all but nailed me to the wall. I could smell amber, leather, incense, and something else I couldn’t name- something like mulling spices yet deeper. Something intoxicating that rolled over me like a spell.

“You can run from it all you like, in fact I encourage you to do so as it’s rather amusing. But it doesn’t change anything. One day, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps many years from now... You will come to know the part you were chosen to play all those years ago.”

What?

I almost gasped. Did he know more then he let on...? Or was that guess he claimed to have more or less confirmed? I had so many questions but I couldn’t find the words to ask as his hand pulled away from my skin.

“Until then… I will keep in touch.” He told me.

That was the only warning I had when suddenly his hand jerked and my vision suddenly went black.

---

“Hey wake up! Wake up!” I could hear a familiar voice say suddenly pulling me into reality with a pounding headache.

“What?”I groaned.

“Was kinda hoping you’d tell me here?” I could hear that familiar voice say.

I opened my eyes to see Stu kneeling next to where I lay. Wait.. was I laying on something? What-? But wasn’t I-? Suddenly everything came rushing back, the cave in, the Satanic cult…

Michael.  

I sat up with a gasp and winced as my head pounded even more. I cursed under my breath.

“Whoa easy!” Stu said suddenly almost urging me to lay back down.

He didn’t have to do much convincing as I lay down carefully once more. I rubbed my temple.

“You okay?” Stu asked me carefully.

“Think so… head’s pounding.”

“Did they knock you out too?”

“The demon did,” I replied.

“Ouch.”

I lay on the bench, hoping the pounding would fade away. Slowly I opened my eyes to see the familiar ceiling of our hotel room. How we ended up here I wasn’t sure but I had a feeling a certain someone was behind it.

We’d have to head back to the underground church but I would bet everything was wiped clean. Michael was probably gone to the wind as well as those Satanists.

I’m going to find him though, I thought. Bastard owes me a hell of ton of answers.

“Guessing you don’t have any idea how the hell we survived that do you?” He asked.

“You’re not going to believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Part 2- TBA

[yourdreamscenarios]

When you cook for Christmas

∙ Request ♡ ∙ Word count: 2,826

“Do you need help?” He asked for the millionth time and you gave him a look as you pointed your gaze on him. He stood on the other side of the counter, giving you a helpless look as he watched the way you huddled around the kitchen. No matter how many times you had told him to leave the room and to go sit with his friends, he simply refused to listen to you. He continued to linger close by, and often shot forward when he realized you wanted to lift something slightly more heavy or when you had to reach for sometimes. He was always there, luring around a corner, watching your every move. You could tell he didn’t agree with this, but you had made this agreement almost a year ago and it wasn’t like you could simply back away from it now. You had promised the boys a family dinner with Christmas, so that was exactly what you were going to give them. No take out, no expensive restaurants. Tonight was about spending time with friends, who had become as close as family. 

Your parents were going out with friends this Christmas, and the guys had work to get done so they weren’t capable of going home to celebrate at home. And so you were all stuck here together. Last year Jungkook had invited you along for Christmas as well, simply order some pizza and eat it on the couch. There had been nothing Christmas like about it, back then they hadn’t even had the time to put up a Christmas tree. This year though, the lights were shining in the living room, a large tree was standing in the further corner and several gifts were scattered underneath it. Hoseok had tried many times before to steal one just so he could figure out what was in them and which ones were for him. You had really tried to think of original gifts for everyone, but it surely hadn’t been easy. Namjoon had demanded for everyone to make a list with at least a few items on it, so that it would be easier to get something for everyone, but even that was easier said than done. 

You never knew what you wanted to get for Christmas. There wasn’t much you needed, and somehow you felt as if you already had everything your heart was longing for. You had a wonderful fiancee, who was becoming your husband within just a few months and you were expecting a wonderful son within a month. It was probably the reason why Jungkook refused to let you out of his sight. When you’d told him last year that you would hoist the party and that you would cook for all of them at the dorm next Christmas he had been so thrilled about it. They had all wanted a real Christmas for once, and to be able to forget about work and to get some actual rest during the holidays. But the situation had turned out slightly different than any of you had expected. No one had expected you to be pregnant by now. Of course, you and Jungkook had been trying, but none of you had thought that it would go this fast. You had only been trying for a few weeks when your pregnancy test had turned out to be positive. 

Your fiancee had been over the moon about it ever since, bragging about it to his friends. You had no idea what was going to happen once the child was born but you could imagine Jungkook parading through the dorm with him and showing him to everyone who came close enough to see his baby. Though, you were happy all the reactions were this positive and you were content that the two of you could do this together. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. “Is there anything I can do?” His voice resounded from behind you and you were just about to open your mouth to speak up when all of a sudden you felt two strong arms wrap around you. His large hands rested on top of your belly, covered by the apron you were wearing so you wouldn’t mess up your clothes. You stilled, holding the wooden spoon in one hand and the pepper in the other. His chin came to rest on top of your shoulder and you knew that he wasn’t about to leave, no matter what you would say. 

You had been able to control his worry during the first weeks of your pregnancy, even though he had panicked about every single things that seemed to go wrong. But ever since your stomach had been growing and there was visible prove of your pregnancy, his protectiveness had grown with it. He had literally begged you to stop working at a certain moment, and you had given into it. Not because you couldn’t handle it anymore or because you weren’t allowed to, but simply because you could tell it tore him apart every single time you left in the morning. He would call you almost every hour, no matter how busy his own schedules were. He had to know what you were doing, who was with you, if there was someone around to take care of you, when you were getting home. You didn’t want to stress him out even more and so you had agreed to stay at home during the last month of your pregnancy. 

You had been able to control his worry during the first weeks of your pregnancy, even though he had panicked about every single things that seemed to go wrong. But ever since your stomach had been growing and there was visible prove of your pregnancy, his protectiveness had grown with it. He had literally begged you to stop working at a certain moment, and you had given into it. Not because you couldn’t handle it anymore or because you weren’t allowed to, but simply because you could tell it tore him apart every single time you left in the morning. He would call you almost every hour, no matter how busy his own schedules were. He had to know what you were doing, who was with you, if there was someone around to take care of you, when you were getting home. You didn’t want to stress him out even more and so you had agreed to stay at home during the last month of your pregnancy. It was one thing to deal with being pregnant, it was another to have to worry about Jungkook’s state of mind every time you were away. 

You couldn’t stand the fact that he was constantly worrying about you and he was panicking around his friends because you refused to listen to him. besides, you couldn’t really complain. He took great care of you, spoiled you whenever you wanted and whenever you needed it. He was being a real gentleman twenty four seven and tried to be with you as much as he could. It was obvious he was getting more excited about the baby with every day that passes. He’d already decorated the room and by all the toys which were already stalled out you’d think that you were expecting two baby’s instead of one. Jungkook was planning on spoiling his first born just as much as he was spoiling you right now. But you could tell he was getting scared as well. Sometimes you notices it by the way he would look at you, like his entire world was turning upside down and he had no idea how to handle it. You felt the exact same way. There were times you would look down on yourself and you’d admire that little human inside of your belly, but there were also moments you feared it. 

From the moment your baby was born everything would change and everything would be different. It was going to be an adventure and there was a chance that the road would be rocky. You were still young, you had no idea how you should raise a kid. But you were convinced that as long as the two of you would stick together and would stand by each other’s sides, you would be just fine. Even though Jungkook didn’t seem to believe it himself sometimes, you knew that he was going to be an amazing father. This child was going to love him and they were going to have some amazing times together. You were going to become a family. “I wish you’d let me help you.” He said once more and you sighed deeply before lowering the spoon on the kitchen counter. While turning around to face him you made sure not to bump your stomach against him. You’d now gotten to the stage the baby would start kicking and you were not sure yet if you enjoyed those moments. At first you had been so shocked because of the feeling that it had almost knocked you over. 

Jungkook had been so worried, the poor guy. He had literally put you down on the sofa, surrounded by hundreds of pillows next to you and all over the floor, just in case you’d threaten to fall again. You would never forget the look on his face though, when you had grabbed his hand and you had placed it against the side of your belly, at the exact place you’d felt the strange sensation before. He’d been confused at first, but then his mouth had fallen open and his eyes had filled themselves with adoration. Now he kept on asking you when the baby was awake, and he would spend his time trying to feel his feet working against your insides. “He’s going to be a great dancer.” He’d once told you, causing you chuckle. Though that didn’t mean that you always enjoyed it, especially not when you were trying to sleep. “You can help me. By stop worrying about me and by enjoying the night.” You advised him and by the look he sent you, you could tell that wasn’t what he had been trying to say. You smiled innocently at him before rising up on your toes and pressing your lips against his for a short peck. 

“Don’t your feet hurt?” He asked as soon as you settled your heels back on the floor and you tugged up an eyebrow at him before shaking your head and walking past him to walk towards the set of cabinets on the other side of the room. Opening it you gazed inside to look for the thing you needed. “No, I guess I’m lucky tonight.” You informed him as you reached for a glass bowl, thinking of putting your salad in there. You wanted the table to have a nice decoration, you didn’t want it to ruin the Christmas sphere. You almost bumped into Jungkook when you turned to walk back towards the middle of the kitchen, which almost caused you to drop the bowl straight onto the floor. “Jungkookie!” You ranted, knowing that you couldn’t be angry at those large eyes that were staring at you so innocently. It wasn’t his fault and you knew that, but he was really getting on your nerves right now. His hands stole the content out of your hands before it could slip from your fingertips and you took a deep breath before thinking of what to say to him. Trying to make him leave wasn’t going to work, there was no way he was going to leave you to do all of this by yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t understand why he was so worried about you. 

You just wished he would understand for a second how irritating it was for you. It was as if this act was his last straw, because as soon as he placed the bowl on top of the island he settled his hands on top of his hips and looked at you with a stern expression. “You shouldn’t be doing all of this work! You’re eight months pregnant!” He said, as if he actually had to remind you of that. Only he wasn’t the one with a sore back, painful feet and a continuous full bladder. If there was one person in this room who knew what it felt like to be eight months pregnant, it was you. “I know! But that doesn’t mean that I can’t make dinner. It’s not like I’m in some threatening danger right now.” You reminded him and he opened his mouth as if he was about to argue with you about that little detail. Quickly you gave him a look which should tell him that you weren’t in the mood for a discussion and he seemed to get it because his mouth closed again without any words coming out of it. If there was one thing he’d had to handle quite enough these past few months it were your mood swings and he knew how bad they could get. 

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you, or the baby.” He muttered and you softened, not knowing if it was because of the sound of his voice or the intentions of his words. You’d always known he had never fought for anything different than your safety, you just didn’t want him to take your freedom as well. You sighed before taking a few long strides towards him, stopping in front of him so that you were able to hit your arms around his middle for a hug. You were no longer able to embrace him as tightly as you’d done before because something was always in the way, but that didn’t stop of him from hugging you back just as easily. “And I know that. But I’m not someone who’s going to sit on the couch all day long and spend my days watching reality shows. I need to do something. And then I don’t mean those puzzles books you bought me.” You said, remembering that he had bought you those a few weeks ago, offering them evert time you got bored. 

You came from a packed schedule, working from mornings till evenings, almost every single day of the year. You simply couldn’t go from everything to nothing in just a few weeks time, and surely not while you were still capable of doing stuff. You needed to put your energy in something or you would surely loose your mind. “But you’ve been marching around the kitchen all afternoon, you haven’t even taken a rest since you came here.” He continued and you realized that was true. Perhaps you had taken this Christmas dinner slightly too serious. Maybe you should have let him help you when he had asked you so many times before, maybe then you wouldn’t be having this discussion right now. As if the others had heard your conversation Seokjin and Yoongi suddenly popped up in the middle of the doorway, both acting natural but by the way they were looking at you, you could tell they were fully aware of what the problem was. 

“You two can watch over the presents now, we’ll take it from here.” Seokjin offered, walking straight towards the stove and grabbing the wooden spoon inside of his hold. Yoongi sniffed, following the smell and stopping beside his friend. You stuttered in argument, ready to fight them off. You hadn’t been cooking all afternoon to give the glory to someone else when you were almost done. You had put lots of effort in this and now you wanted to finish it. “Please babe…” Jungkook begged slightly, his hands gripping yours and carefully tugging you towards the doorway. For a small second you felt torn, but soon you relaxed your strained muscles and you let yourself being led away, knowing it was for the best. Your legs were indeed getting a little bit tired, and you’d been having that cramp in your back for at least an hour now. Perhaps it couldn’t hurt to spend some time with your fiancee of this lovely evening. 

After all, that was one of the reasons why you’d wanted to organize this, so that you could be with the people you cared about. As soon as the two of you arrived in the living room Jungkook placed the both of you down on the couch, with him sitting beside the Christmas tree. The lights were reflecting inside of his hair and you had to admit you really loved the sight of it. You couldn’t wait until you’d be able to celebrate the holidays with him and your child next year. “Well, isn’t this nice?” He asked you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and leaning you against his side. No matter how hard you had tried to fight it before, you felt your exhaustion kicking in and you willingly snuggled into him. “Let’s hope they don’t mess up the food. I’m not having take out this year.” You reminded him and he chuckled slightly as his hand crawled down your back and found the exact spot where your muscles were clenched together. 

Closing your eyes you enjoyed the way his fingers pressed into them, knowing exactly how to cure all your pains. “Maybe next year we can all cook together, me and you, and the baby.” He suggested and in your mind you could see the image of a messed up kitchen develop inside of your mind, but still you smiled. You were almost about to drift off when all of a sudden you felt Jungkook flinch beside you. “Don’t open it!” He shouted and when you opened your eyes you stared right at Hoseok, holding a bright red present inside of his hands, shaking it against the side of his head. You laughed as the younger one chased him around the room. Seriously, how could you ever get bored with these guys around? 

∙ BTS Masterlist ♡ ∙ Masterlist ♡

[shen-yuannana]

Cloudtop Pt. 1 // Mark & Jaemin

NCT as Angels and Demons  (recommended to read beforehand, but not required)

Angel! Mark X Reader X Jaemin

Rating: PG-13

Length: 1,637 words

Summary:  Every morning you wake up with small wounds; just little scrapes and bruises you attribute to flailing in your sleep. This morning, you woke up with a huge cut across your hip, a glowing golden dagger plunged into the wall, and what looks an awful lot like a dead angel on your floor.

Masterlist

-

For weeks, you’ve been getting these little cuts and scrapes during the night with no explanation. At first, you thought you might be flailing and hitting your nightstand, so you tried pushing it further away, but the cuts appeared without fail.

It was starting to get pesky, especially at work. Bustling around a busy flower shop with multiple bruises was quite painful when you constantly had to lift heavy pots and avoid bumping into people.

This morning, however, you weren’t met with just small wounds – you were met with a 3-inch gash across your hip splaying from the peak of the bone to the soft flesh of your gut.

That wasn’t all, though. In the wall was a glowing golden dagger, longer and sharper than any mortal knife you’ve ever seen. Beneath in lied a body resting in a pool of blood, motionless. They looked human besides the fact that, well… they had wings.

You gather the sheets of your bed and pressed it to the wound on your hip, attempting to slow the bleeding. It worked well enough for now.

Reaching for your phone, you cursed yourself for having pushed your nightstand farther away a few days ago. It was too far for you to reach in your current state, stretching with a gaping wound far too painful.

You moved gingerly, slowly bringing your feet to the floor, and stood. You could barely walk, but two steps were all you needed to reach the device. You reached out, grasping for it, but it slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the ground.

The seemingly dead body awoke with a startle, mouth gasping for air. It shocked you, sending you stumbling back onto the bed. You winced at the impact, despite it being soft. The angel you thought was dead pushed themselves to their feet, clutching their right shoulder.

Blood caked their front, staining the white linin and making it cling to his chest. His skin was sallow, but far too vibrant for that amount of blood loss. Any human would’ve been dead, you know that for sure.

He pulled the dagger out of the wall and stumbled towards you, straightening to his full height. When he pulled his hand away from his shoulder, you could see that the wound was closed up completely. The only sign of injury was the saccharine liquid coating his form.

“Stay still,” he said. His eyes, wide as a doe, compelled you. You found yourself unable to move even if you wanted to.

He came close, pulling the sheets away from your wound. You gasped, fingers scrambling for purchase on the bed. He placed his hand on your bare skin, cupping the flesh as if it was precious. He bit his lip, worrying the plush edge with his teeth as your skin began to feel warm.

When he pulled his hand away, he was shuddering with exertion. You reached down, pressing your fingers to the cut, only to find that it had vanished. In fact, all your cuts and bruises were gone – not a single one remained, even as you searched your skin over and over.

“Thank you,” you whispered, glancing up.

He was gone.

-

For weeks following the incident, you were fine. You convinced yourself that it was a dream, even though you had to throw out the carpet he had bled out on and bleach the sheet you had covered your wound with four times before the stains were finally gone. It was just a dream - an incredibly strange dream.

That was until you began waking up with cuts again.

Six weeks following the incident, you woke up with a large bruise on your right thigh – about the size of a small apple. It hurt like a bitch and prevented you from doing some of the heavier lifting at work, much to your distaste. You excused it for the time being, but then three days later, another appeared.

It was time to investigate.

-

You bought a camera online and hooked it up in the corner of your room, trying to get the best angle possible. Whatever was hurting you in the night couldn’t come in without being caught on tape, unless, of course, the camera couldn’t see it. You weren’t quite sure how this whole “supernatural entity” thing worked.

You checked the footage every day before you went to sleep, finding nothing for five days besides a flicker every here and there, but nothing genuinely suspicious. The sixth day, though, was a different story.

At approximately 2:34 am, the footage went black. At 2:36 am, the footage resumed – but this time the room was not empty. There were two figures, one white and one pitch black. The pitch-black entity was pinned to the wall, the same glowing gold dagger you had seen those six weeks ago pressed to its throat.

A voice crackled through the receiver, barely audible. You had to turn the volume all the way up on your computer to be able to understand it.

“Do not return.”

The white entity plunged the dagger into the pitch-black one, forcing the figure to dissipate into a cloud of black smoke that vanished as quickly as it appeared. The white figure remained where it was for a few moments before relaxing, sitting on the edge of your bed.

It reached for your hand and grasped it between its own. It brought the hand to where its face would be, seemingly kissing the back of the appendage. As you watched this, you could feel the back of your hand tingle ever so slightly. It felt like how you imagined the angel’s soft lips would feel.

You shivered, covering your mouth with the same hand he had kissed. He, the bloodied, blonde-haired man with wings as white as snow. He, the angel who stood watch over you each night.

He, your guardian angel.

-

After you found out you had a guardian angel, you slept both easier and worse.

On one hand, someone was watching out for you – a very capable, determined angel who did his best to protect you from harm. On the other hand, this meant that you had something to be protected from.

Something was hunting you each night. You weren’t sure if it was to get something from you, to kill you, or to taunt the angel, but it didn’t matter. A demon of some sort was after you, and that was terrifying.

You found yourself sleeping less and less, scared to lie down for fear that you might not wake up, or worse, wake up with gouged flesh, or no organs, or god knows what else a demon might do. Your coworkers were becoming worried, seeing your condition get worse and worse day after day of little to no sleep. You wished you could go back to the time when you were blissfully unaware of the fights taking place over you unconscious body.

You began to pray, but that did not work. You bought charms, but they also seemed to be useless. You hired a priest to bless your apartment, but nothing changed. You kept loosing sleep and kept waking up with a melody of cuts and bruises whenever you actually became tired enough to pass out.

Maybe I could move back in with my parents.

If you did, you’d have to leave your job. They lived too far away to make the commute worth it.

Desperate, you looked up nearby apartments, but none were within your price range or location. You were about to give up when you spied an ad - a person nearby was looking for someone to room with. The rent would be split, the cost per person less than what you were paying now for your current apartment. It was also close to both work and your university, so your commute would be the same if not less.

You replied to the ad immediately, no hesitation.

-

Within two weeks, you had co-signed the lease and happily moved in. Your roommate was a sweet boy named Na Jaemin. He went to the same university as you did, except instead of studying environmental sciences like you, he studied biomedical sciences. The two of you got along instantly, bonding over a cup of coffee before your appointment with the landlord.

It was an instant friendship, and quite the turn of luck. It almost felt too good to be true. Almost.

As you were settling in your last few boxes, there was a knock on the door.

“I got it,” Jaemin called. “You can keep unpacking, if you like.”

You shrugged, pushing the box aside. “The boxes can wait. It might be one of the new neighbors.”

Jaemin looked through the peep hole and smiled at your statement, “You’re right.”

You smiled back, cheeks warm. The med student really had a way of worming into your heart.

Jaemin opened the door wide, letting the person in.

“Long time no see, Mark,” Jaemin drew teasingly. His voice had a certain lilt to it that you couldn’t identify.

You smiled looking over your new neighbor. He was carrying a tray of cookies and had a strangely familiar form, his shoulders reminding you of something you couldn’t quite place. His hair too – it was a soft, pleasant shade of brown that complimented his skin.

He turned towards you, and your smile fell.

It was the angel. The angel who had saved you night after night, golden dagger in hand. He seemed to recognize you too, smile falling as his hands loosened on the Pyrex dish. The angel – Mark, apparently – let go of the cookies, staring at you even as the glass shattered into a million pieces across the hard wood floor.

Jaemin looked at the mess on the ground and sighed.

“I’ll get the broom.”

-

This started as a drabble and then turned into a chaptered series,,, fml.

As usual, feedback is appreciated :) thank you for reading!!!

Masterlist // Part 2