#and also because they at least have the grace of knocking their prey out before killing it

[simcardiac-arrested]

🐾 with sep would fix me

🐾: draw a character with their favorite animal

what are you talking about? This guy has never had a favorite Anythinggg in their life

[nodraftsweball]

Character Details -- Fractal

(Though Fractal starts off with he/him pronouns in the story, meta stuff will be exclusively using she/her pronouns!)

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Fractal is an impulsive and restless type of person, the kind of person that goes "I know what I know!" and sticks to it unquestioningly; this is great when it comes to matters of justice and fairness to others, but also causes her to be an ultimately inflexible person, and can similarly cause her to not question or re-examine things she should until absolutely forced to. (Like her gender identity, for instance.)

She's got a few "basic" meals that she will eat regardless of where she is, predominantly game-type meat (rabbits, deer, and duck, with duck being the stand-out favorite). To facilitate her tastes, she's actually quite the capable hunter, despite her usual preference for close-combat fighting and general lack of subtlety or grace. Her favorite style of hunting on the ground is figuring out where her prey is most likely to run, setting up a few traps, then openly chasing it into one. For birds, she's learned how to accurately wield a bolas, though she basically never uses said bolas in combat due to her preferences. Conversely, she does not like seafood; it appears to be less of a taste problem and more of a grudge against the fact that she isn't patient enough to fish properly, and hates the activity immensely. (Miiro scolds her if she attempts more…immediate, and destructive, methods of fishing.) If she isn't capable of getting her preferred meal, she'll place her faith in Miiro's tastes instead. If Miiro isn't available, she'll take whatever sounds "the least unpleasant". She does not care that this may come off as insulting or offensive, usually because she's already cranky after consulting the menu. At the very least, she isn't one to cause a big scene or actually insult the workers or the cook for such a situation.

Caffeine has an…odd affect on Fractal, where instead of energizing her, it just knocks her clean out. In general she doesn't like intensely bitter flavors anyway, preferring to drink either her favorite spring water, or, barring than, certain energy drinks that aren't particularly sweet. If offered tea, she won't inherently shoot it down, but she won't be especially happy about drinking it either.

On Miiro's advice, she does not consume alcohol at all, even once she becomes perfectly of age to do so. (He's afraid of what she'll be like drunk, and the both of them trust his instincts immensely.)

Her room is fairly messy and she tends not to make her bed when she wakes up, or…ever really, even when she's expecting guests. That said, the mess is specifically things being left out rather than trash being scattered, and she's surprisingly anal about keeping things clean. Her preferred method of sleeping tends to be with a shirt and underwear on, and laying on her sides, and that hasn't changed even after her body did. To this day she does not care if she's surrounded by men or women, she'll be in her underwear regardless, and she will not hesitate to get into other "private" situations, like a bath, with anyone. The only time she'll show any such hesitation in being vulnerable (without her weapons) is if she senses danger from one of the people she's with, in which case she will usually try to escalate things to a fight before she dare relax.

Generally, Fractal is a very open and non-secretive person, and she accepts new people with open arms and her whole heart if she doesn't feel anything "off" about them. She'll go to bat for someone within three seconds of meeting them. A very "you have become friends! Fractal will now DIE for you!" kind of person. While she initially distrusts demons, judging them on the legends she's been told growing up, this extended to them as well without a second thought. She fights anyone that's willing to fight her, to the death even if desired, but she refuses to attack someone who is clearly afraid, no matter their species, and will side with a demon that is clearly getting harassed and bullied. This behavior only intensifies after she comes to terms with demons not being different from humans in any meaningful way.

While Fractal is naive and bullheaded at the best of times, she isn't out-and-out stupid or foolish. She knows how to be clever or sneaky when the situation calls, and she isn't one to inherently challenge anyone just because they're called "strong"; instead, when needed, she'll survey how others behave around someone and heed warnings, then decide for herself how she should act. She isn't the type of person to walk into a situation with someone powerful and get smacked or lectured for not bowing when she's "supposed" to, unless she's pre-assessed that the person they're interacting with either wouldn't care or that they're a dick and she's likely able to take them in a fight. If she isn't certain of a one-on-one being in her favor, she's perfectly capable of biding her time and acting respectable until she gets a chance to tip the scales. Similarly, if she will be fine but a friend might not be and a fight isn't necessarily wanted (ie, if the friend is in an abusive relationship and either doesn't think they're being abused or has asked for their abuser to not be hurt), she will also take care to behave herself until she can make her move.

[anxiouspotatorants]

It is time. It is finally time for the new Suicide Squad rant (and spoilers will be plentiful):

As someone who was into DC Comics and comics in the mid to late 2010s and had so much hype for the first Suicide Squad movie only to be let down, I was so nervous for this one. I knew it was going to be a roller coaster, but whether I would come out happy or disappointed was up in the air. Having just seen it I will say this: I have no idea if this was a good movie-movie. It was insane. The comedy. The violence. The high emotion. I’m still trying to take it all in. But one thing I do know is that this is an amazing Suicide Squad movie. Gunn and co took the best parts of the comic concept and went batshit with it and that is how this property should be handled (in my opinion). Screw edgelordisms, we need full on insanity free of aiming for shock-value or sexy brutality we want chaos baby.

Starting the whole movie as they did, with Savant as the POV for a mission (or part of the mission) that just goes to hell immediately and kills off so many before the title arrives is the perfect way to start this movie. Like the second I realized this was how they were doing it I was just smiling from ear to ear, this is the spirit of the property.

Part of me wishes we got more Amanda Waller, but what we had was impeccable. Then again, this is Viola Davis we’re talking about, and if she was born to play any character in a superhero story, it is Amanda Waller.

And points to her tech team, introducing them with the death bets was just a lovely way to show how regular this is and how awful everyone is in this movie.

I’m not going to pretend like Deadshot and Bloodsport didn’t have the exact same character- and plot premises… but I will say that Bloodsport felt better executed.

I love that they kept some of the past members and not just Harley. Rick Flag got to have a full personality and interactions with his team members and to be a true leader and it made me so happy for someone who initially did not give a single shit about his character. The Harley friendship? The Dubois friendship? The friendship with that guerilla leader? Amazing. The one American soldier in fictional media I genuinely like. You go Mr Flag.

The new members were… they were insane in the best way. Gone are the shitty stereotypes and present are some of the wackiest creations to ever grace the mainstream movie-sphere (aka the slightly less normal comic creations): A man who has to shoot out polka dots two times a day so as not to die from a space virus. A giant child murdering weasel. A guy who detaches his limbs and slaps people with said detached limbs. King Shark. The second person to command rats with a fancy gadget. They are all crazy and all weird and all more or less morally repulsive people and I love them.

The amount of times I did a double take over the soundtrack I swear. Jessie Reyez? The Pixies? It was so much fun to pick up on once I did.

Was the depiction of a vague Latin American country stereotypical? Yes. Was the secret American involvement predictable and felt mildly patronizing from a non-American, part Latina point of view? Yep. But damn it if I didn’t have a good time with those stereotypes and laugh my ass off at how well executed some were. I don’t know if it was meant as parody, but that one secretary has me thinking so — and if so I am pleased.

Speaking of Latino dictators Harley’s one day romance with one of the villains was something I never knew I needed. Like it was so perfect for Harley that when it happened I almost hit myself for not realizing that this kind of plot should be a normal thing for Harley. And the end of it? Perfect not only in this standalone movie, but also in conjunction with the first and with BoP.

The Taika Waititi cameo??? Oh my god??? I did not expect that and I love it?? Sir, What We Do in the Shadows is impeccable.

Rick Flag’s death actually surprised me. It shouldn’t as this is Suicide Squad, but I kind of expected him to be on Harley’s level of unkillable (because let’s face it, no one kills Harley). What I will say is that his death was good and his final words and actions made me love him all the more. I hope this spawns more Rick Flag content, or at least inspires me to look at what already exists, if he already is as this movie made him (it’s been ages since I read one of the Suicide Squad reboot comics okay).

Starro. How can a villain be so wacky and so terrifying at the same time? I did not expect a literal alien starfish to have more terrifying powers and a more tragic plot execution than Enchantress. But here we are. And that damn star just wanted to be floating in space, and instead it was stuck getting revenge by killing and puppeteering human corpses. Wow that thing was creepier the more you think about it.

I don’t know what I think about Polka Dot Man. I loved watching him on screen but also damn those mommy-issues were on a new level. Not just in his backstory but how he literally sees her in every person around him that was insane. Very funny but like also the kind that makes you laugh just because you’re uncomfortable and don’t know how else to releive the tension.

When Waller got knocked out by a staff member I immediately thought «oh my god Amanda Waller is going to kill half the staff for this», so I’m mildly surprised and disappointed that I didn’t get to see that happen. But also I should maybe expect something like this in a potential future Suicide Squad movie. We can’t have everything in a movie as packed as this.

Peacemaker was very horrible and worked really well. Don’t really have much to say about him, not because I didn’t enjoy him but because I already feel like the film itself has said it for me. But the planting and payoff for his death? Chef’s. Kiss.

Harley’s wardrobe was beautiful. Ratcatcher 2’s combat outfit felt like a steampunk plague dream. Bloodsport’s mask was supercool. Rick Flag’s t-shirt was amazing. But the best little outfit was the Mafalda-keychain and her red dress, hands down. Oh and King Shark’s fake moustache finger moment.

King Shark is shaped like a friend I don’t care how many people he ate alive on screen he looks so huggable. It feels like wanting to pet a bear. You know it will kill you but damn it look at those paws and those cute eyes!

I really need to give it to not just James Gunn but the entire production team for this movie. The aesthetic was perfect. The story was the right blend of whimsical and violent. The finished product was a literal rollercoaster and I mean that in a good way. If superhero movies have to be like amusement parks, I hope they’re more like this one and BoP.

I’ll finish on the note that while I think this movie was great and hopefully a step in the right direction for the DCU/DCEU (as in stop trying to play Marvel’s game and just do your own thing/ let your creative teams run wild and free), it is not the first step. Cathy Yan, Birds of Prey and the production team for it took a step first, and they deserve due credit and attention. If you loved this Suicide Squad movie and haven’t watched BoP yet, do so. Because they really are in the same ballpark while doing things in slightly different ways. And any good DCEU movie deserves more attention so the studios know that creativity and risks should be rewarded. I want more DC movies like this, not necessarily in genre but in creative risks. I want a Black Canary rock movie. I want Alfred in a reverse heist movie alone in the batcave against Gotham villains. I want Gotham Academy on screen play by play from the comics. I want a fully animated psychedelic-like Khalid Nassour as Dr. Fate movie. I want elevated horror movie Constantine. I want weird ass Lois Lane journalist movies with a heavy side of Superman. And I want DC movies I didn’t even know I wanted.

Support creativity in mainstream comic movies. Help me become a DC fan and happy about it again.

[autumnslance]

Prompt #14: Attrition

((In which the writer learns there’s a theological definition, pertaining to Contrition, and also maybe riffed off The Decemberists a little cuz rhymes are hard and who has time for that. Now on Ao3))

The sound of heavy footsteps from the hall outside Howart’s chamber made him look up from his reading and realize how very late it was. The candle burned low as the stars outside the window glimmered in the pitch sky.

Perhaps the visiting Inquisitor required something; in which case, Howart had best check. The Inquisitor had been forgiving so far of Howart’s youth and inexperience in his assistant position to the elder priest of this parish. Yet he had also made it clear he expected Howart to learn, quickly, how to anticipate his needs.

Howart shoved his feet into boots and threw on his robe, adjusting it as he hurried out the door.

There was no one in the short corridor, but dim lights flickered in the sanctuary. Howart hurried that way. “Sir, is there aught that—Oh!”

It was not the Inquisitor standing before the altar of Halone. A tall elezen man in dark armor slowly turned to look at Howart. A fit elder, his hair was all iron gray, and his eyes piercing. “And what have we here?” He asked in a deep, gravelly voice.

Howart stumbled back against the wall, eyes bulging. He had grown up in the Brume, before making it into the seminary. He was familiar with the stories, the warning rhymes and gruesome songs.

'Cause everyone knows If you stray from Halone's light The dark wind will blow Bringing the shadows alive tonight Their swords split the wicked from the good Dark knights accept penance only in blood

“Fury’s Grace,” Howart whispered as the dark knight eyed him. “Are you here to kill me?”

The older man looked him up and down, then harrumphed. “And why should I want to do that, son?”

“I-I-I tr-try to be good—”

“Do you now?” He tilted his head, studying Howart. “And why do you choose good, young priest?”

Howart swallowed, caught off guard. “Well, because…it’s what we’re supposed to…do?” What an elementary answer! Yet all his years of study seemed to have fled his skull.

The old knight smiled, like a dragon sizing its prey. “Indeed. Though what constitutes ‘good’ seems to be up for debate.”

“But it isn’t!” Howart blurted. “The polities make it clear how we are to treat our fellow man! To be kind a-and charitable, to help our neighbors!”

“Well they haven’t ground you down yet,” the knight muttered. “Keep to those polities, boy. Eternal reward in Our Lady’s Halls awaits those who keep such faith.”

“Lest the Hells take thee,” Howart answered automatically, biting his tongue as the knight threw him a sharp glance.

“Is it for fear of divine retribution that we should do good acts?”

“No!” Howart replied. “A-at least, not entirely; we should want to do good for its own sake, a-and repent our wrongs because they are wrong, and w-we wish to be right with Her. I figure for most, though, there will always be a bit of fear. ‘Tis natural. Isn’t it?”

The knight considered that for a moment, a sad smile on his lips before he turned away. “Aye, lad; I believe it is. You ought to return to your chamber, and tell no one that you saw me. Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Fare thee well, young priest. Keep your faith.”

The knight strode out of the sanctum, leaving Howart alone.

He slid to the floor, knees to his chest, and tried to steady himself for at least a quarter bell. Eventually, however, he got up, leaning on the wall for support. He made his way down the little hall to his chamber, pausing to listen.

Silence.

After a moment’s debate, he went into his room and locked the door and shuttered the window.

—

In the morning, Howart woke early, bleary eyed and yawning. He swiftly handled his ablutions and went to the small kitchen to prepare breakfast for the priest and their guest. Once ready, he woke his senior, and then knocked upon the Inquisitor’s door.

It was not properly latched, so swung open. The smell and sight of the blood struck Howart like a physical blow, and he fainted.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

call out my name pt. 2

summary: spencer rushes off to fix things with y/n, but can they really be fixed?

word count: 2,371                                                                                     reading time aprox: 9 mins

a/n: i just wanted to say thank you for all the support and praise i received on here, especially seeing all of my favorite authors comment and reblog my work is so heartening. thank you all so much for the support, you’re the reason why i have the encouragement to continue doing what i love <3

masterlist

part 1

The rain pattered against the window panes, interlocking with the light that shone through the sheer curtains of my apartment. A cold breeze slipped through the crack of the window, letting it venture through the dim room before it graced my skin. Although the sensation hadn’t registered in my mind as the plain beige wall in front of me consumed my attention. 

The hypnotic sound of the rain provided a consistent rhythm that encouraged my introspection. In the entire duration of my break, I’ve let my thoughts filter and organize themselves. I’ve felt powerless against the accusations that my brain has thrown towards me, setting my emotions to the side in a state of suspense. 

My knees were curled up against my chest, my unwashed hair scrunched up against my cheeks, and my sweater was littered with unknown stains and dried tears. Along with the descension of my reasonability, my hygiene followed shortly after. 

I was brought out of my bubble by the buzz of my phone. I turned it off weeks ago from the constant notifications I got from the team, it was only when I received a text message from my mother that I decided to turn it back on for the day. 

I reached over to the side table where my phone laid, feeling my muscles tense up and ache from the lack of movement I’ve done these past weeks. Turning it on, the intense light blinded me, leaving me disoriented. When my eyes finally adjusted to the sudden change of light, I wished that I had been blinded a little longer than I was. 

The notification read ‘New Voicemail: JJ <3’ 

My breath got pushed back in my throat, a wave of discomfort flooding over my entire body as my thumb hesitated over the notification. My lips trembled, swallowing my saliva while a debate ensued between my impulsivity and my timidity. With a numb boost of confidence I hurriedly pressed on the notification, traveling through my phone to hear out her message. 

“Hey Y/N” The message began. “I know that you heard...about what I said to Spence-” Her voice was low and full of penance, although any remorse that I tried to comprehend washed away at her use of Spencer’s nickname. “Gosh, I don’t even - I don’t even know how to begin to apologize for what I said - I - you don’t know how much Spence loves you and how much he talks about you” She sighed, her tone picking up as she praised Spencer. “But what I said was completely inappropriate and I’m so sorry for what I said. Telling Spence that I loved him was way out of line, considering that you’re such a dear friend to me, and especially since things are so complicated with me and Will - I just - I’m so sorry that I told him that I love-” 

The rest of the message was left to the imagination as I forcefully threw my phone against the beige wall, denting it in the process. A flurry of newfound rage clouded my mind, providing a break from the contradicting thoughts that usually engulfed my head. For once, I had directed the emotion towards another individual rather than myself. 

The phone fell with a heavy thud, glass debris flying across the floor, decorating the oak floors with fragments. I could care less about the material expense that I would have to pay; my blind resentment tainting my rationality. 

My chest heaved in exasperation as a novel onslaught of tears pricked the corners of my eyes. Although the quantity of tears were sparse because they were wasted on my self reproach the previous week. I furiously wiped them away, detaching myself from the malicious feeling, a habit I came to develop. 

I adapted to the stupefaction that infiltrated my heart, at times feeling grateful for the ability. The coldness that surrounded my small living room couldn’t compare to the icy innards of my chest. 

Finally collecting my composure, I looked over to a mirror that sat between my bookshelves, taking in my disheveled and ragged appearance. 

JJ wouldn’t look like this

My face contorted into a somber expression, letting my insecurities slip through the hard persona I persisted to instill in myself. I surveyed the filthy environment that surrounded me; the floor was painted with old dirt, the furniture had accumulated colonies of dust, and the roses that sat on the kitchen counters had wilted. 

JJ would never let herself go like this

Who was I kidding? Who was I, Y/N Y/L/N, to compare to a Georgetown graduate, an astounding profiler, and an icon of beauty? 

Well the one thing I had that she didn’t was Spencer

But did I really? 

I was startled out of my grim assessment by a frantic knocking against my front door. I groaned internally, not hesitating to stay where I was situated. I couldn’t handle any human interaction at the moment, frankly I didn’t want any human interaction at all. I’ve learned to love the little cocoon I had built around me, finding serendipity in my self-isolation. 

“Go away!” I attempted to shout, but all that came out was a hoarse whimper that sent a sharp pain to my esophagus. I flinched as the knocking became more frantic, the volume elevating along with the forceful jabs against the wood. 

I felt my ears ring, using my hands to alleviate the pounding that attacked my eardrums. I was about to open my mouth to disclose another warning, but a familiar voice had interrupted me. 

“Y/N! Y/N are you in there!” Spencer yelled, slamming his fists against the door between every phrase. 

I froze in my spot, a wave of mixed emotions coming over me as my cheeks flushed at hearing his voice for the first time in a long time. The familiar sound sent shockwaves down my spine and dread silenced my tongue. It felt like I was on high alert, like an animal paranoid of its prey. 

“Y/N! Just - god please tell me you’re at least okay” He stammered in his fit of hysteria, the bangs on the door slowing in rhythm. 

Silence followed his pleas, instilling a sense of relief that I didn’t know I needed. Movement outside stilled, making me think that he had given up his relentless efforts and went elsewhere. I let out a breath that I held in, alleviating the stress that had accumulated inside of me. 

Although the moment that I began to relax into my seat, two blaring shots rattled through the apartment complex. The scent of gunpowder meshed with the dewy air as I jumped out of my seat, startled and alarmed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears with my palms, the ringing leaving me blindsided. 

“Y/N! Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer rushed in with his gun pointed, his feet clattering against the floor in a haste. 

“What the fuck Spencer” I hoarsely whispered, although the meekly volume of my voice hadn’t penetrated this ears. 

“Y/N!” He called out once again, slowing his movements as his sneakers squeaked with every step he made. 

“I’m here Spencer, I’m here” I repeated, using all my might to push the small phrase off of my tongue. My throat stung at the strain of my voice, a burning feeling eliciting from the back of my throat due to the dryness. This time I had caught his attention.

We locked eyes for a brief moment before I quickly broke our line of sight, insecure about my current appearance; even after a month I still held Spencer’s opinion to the highest magnitude. In the time that I observed him, I noticed that he was drenched in rain water, his hair tangled and strung out from his head while droplets proceeded behind him. 

“I-” He breathed, his words caught in his throat. He dropped his revolver beside him in incredulity, drinking in my battered presence. He didn’t look too well either, his stature was still the same but the bags under his eyes were prominent, his cheeks were puffed from exhaustion, and his posture resembled the hunchback of Notre Dame. 

“W- what are y- you doing here Spencer?” I croaked, rubbing my hands against my arms in an attempt for any type of coverage. 

My senses heightened as I waited for his response. He brought in such a familiar, yet unfamiliar presence with him. It felt like I was home, but so far away from it at the same time. 

Maybe it was the way that I longed for the warmth of his embrace, the calming rhythm of his heart beat while I slept on his chest, and the soothing melody of his voice while he read to me. But maybe it was also the way he hadn’t dared to speak when JJ’s voice was full of love, when he assumed that I hadn’t acknowledged the endearments he received from another woman, and when I became a distant thought in the back of his head. 

I’ve never doubted Spencer’s eidetic memory, but this time I questioned my place in that brilliant mind of his. Maybe for the first time, I was the one thought that had ceased to exist. 

“I - why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered, running his hand over his jaw in grievance. His eyes burned holes into me, the intense glare making me feel small under his scrutiny. 

I couldn’t answer

“God Y/N - I don’t even - why didn’t you even tell me?” 

“I - uh - I don’t” I stuttered, unable to muster the confidence or cognitive ability to speak; it was like my brain had turned into mush. 

“Please talk to me” He pleaded, taking a hesitant step closer to me. 

I stumbled back in a haste like he was some sort of repellent. I felt a constant push and pull in my gut, messing with my innate instincts. 

“Spencer don’t-” I warned, seeing how he had taken a few determined strides towards me. 

“Spence...please don't - p- please” I whimpered, feeling a wet substance slide down the apple of my cheeks. I tasted the crimson blood mix with the salty residue on my lips, unaware of how hard I bit down on the skin. 

Pained tears continued to fall incessantly from my eyes, matching the way the rain ran down my window panes previously. I saw Spencer’s figure slump down in defeat, the helplessness in my words permeating his eardrums. 

“Y/N just - please let me fix - Y/N just please let me fix us” He solicited, looking to me for permission to advance. 

“Spencer there’s no need for fixing anythi-” 

“Yes there is Y/N-” 

“No there isn’t Spencer!” I persisted, convincing myself that I had everything under control. I shut my eyes in frustration, shaking my head in denial while I reminded myself of all the malicious emotions I refused to feel. 

“Y/N please just list-” 

“No Spencer. I know what to do and I know how to deal with-” 

“No Y/N! No you don’t - god you’re so stubborn sometimes -” He imprudently blurted out, pinching at the bridge of his nose to collect his composure. “Y/N - please just…” He sighed, looking deep into my eyes from a distance. “Please just let me in” He begged, a few tears slipping from the corners of his somber irises. His face wore an anguished and desperate expression, an expression that had the ability to end a war. 

My cold exterior shattered instantaneously from the sight of Spencer, feeling my heart being tugged into multiple directions until all that was left was a pained human muscle. As much as I wanted to convince myself of an ardent persona, I knew that Spencer was the only person that could invoke such a visceral reaction from me. Whether I accepted the feeling or not, I knew that Spencer’s effect on me was unmatched to any delusions I made myself to believe. 

My lips trembled uncontrollably as a soft sob rolled off my tongue. I looked to Spencer for aid, feeling my entire facade crash and burn. My knees buckled and weakened from reality coming in all at once. When the first cry fell from my mouth, more followed soon after. 

I became a drenched mess that sat in the middle of the living room. I felt deceived by myself, developing a sense of self resentment as my mindset came into actualization. I grieved for the fragment of myself that I secluded and killed off because of my inability to process my agony, longing for that piece of me back. 

Spencer came to my rescue, engulfing me in his arms and encroaching me with his touch. I leaned into his chest, desperately clutching onto the dress shirt he wore. My tears stained his blazer, leaving puddles along the fabric, but I couldn’t care less. 

I breathed in the sedative scent, feeling it flush through my nostrils, reminding me of home. I held onto his arms tightly, afraid that he would disappear the moment I let go of him. 

Spencer tried to reach down to grab a hold of my cheek, but I nudged his fingers away, climbing into his lap as I buried my face into the crook of his neck. 

He cooed into my hair, stroking my back while he whispered his endearments in my ear. “You’re okay Y/N - we’re going to be okay” He breathed, letting out a staggered exhale as he enunciated his words. 

Light rushed into my chest at that moment, letting it conquer and cut through the caution tape I had wired around my feelings. Shutting my eyes, I relaxed into his love, letting it infiltrate and replace my fears. 

I didn’t doubt that it was going to take time to heal and repair, but at least it was beginning. 

“I love you so so much Y/N - more than you can ever conceive” He declared, pressing a soft kiss on my temple. “And nobody will ever tell me otherwise” 

I knew from that moment that I didn’t have to walk on a tightrope no longer because I knew it was my name that Spencer would be calling out.

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​ @linthebinbag​ @goldentournesol​ @andiebeaword​ @moon-light-jukebox​ @pizzarollsfordayz​ @baby-i-am-fireproof​ @cielo1984​ @spncersreid​ @101donuts​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @haylaansmi​ @parkeroffline​

[wooyunhwa]

kingdom of welcome addiction | three

view pinned post for masterlist / links to the rest of the parts!

Genre: smut

Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: graphic violence, blood drinking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, crying kink, corruption kink, praise kink? idk, alcohol drinking, virgin mc

Synopsis: When you accidentally summon a bloodthirsty demon boy to your bedroom, you form an unexpected contract with him.

A/N: I’m a little too whipped for this san tbh,,, Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always!

“Go talk to him!” 

“Yuri, he’s way out of my—”

“C’mon, you look hot! You haven’t been out with us in like, over a month. Have some fun for once.”

“The worst he could do is reject you,” Chaeyeon piped in at your side. 

Easy for them to say. Your friends were practically models, of course they would think getting a guy's number was easy. 

But either way, you couldn’t take your eyes off him all night. Tall, perfectly proportioned, entirely graceful. His jet-black undercut hair was styled up neatly in such a way that one side fell gracefully over his eyes. Admittedly, he was no San, but he was gorgeous.  There was no way you’d be able to get his number, but your friends were right about one thing. You could really use some fun. 

You knocked back the rest of your drink, and it stung the back of your throat just enough to give you the confidence you needed to approach him. 

Your friends watched, mouths agape as you somehow managed to score his number—he typed it into your phone with graceful fingers, caching in into your contacts under the name Seonghwa. A fittingly pretty name for such a gorgeous man. When you walked back to the table, your friends' eyes were wide in both jealousy and shock, and you felt incredibly powerful for just a moment.

“The way you’re looking at me, it seems like you didn’t think I’d actually get it,” you joked, leaning against the table to stir the ice in your empty glass mindlessly. 

“Well, uh... we kind of didn’t. Not that you’re not pretty or anything, but that guy is out of all our leagues. Like pretty much everyone in this bar’s league, actually.”

“No guarantee he’ll actually call me. It could be a fake number,” you shrugged. 

You kind of couldn’t believe you were able to get his number either, but it did give you a much needed confidence boost. You didn’t need your demon boy anymore, you could actually get a human. A gorgeous one at that. Of course, this human boy probably wouldn’t clean your bathroom for you. Or look so goddamn hot doing it. 

You glanced around the bar confidently, making eye contact with Seonghwa and giving him a flirtatious wink. 

You weren’t usually big into going to bars, even with your friends. Rather, you preferred a chill night in watching movies or playing Cards Against Humanity. But your friends had been nagging you for nearly a month to go out with them, their constant invites finally coming to a head when you accepted out of the blue. You’d been so focused on your secret nightly rendezvous with the hot demon boy in your bedroom that you’d rejected them over and over, blaming a “mountain of school work” and “midterm stress”. While both of those things were true, you had basically discarded your social life to lust over a pretty demon boy. You knew now that he was a bad idea, and you needed to move on.

For the last week, you’d been agonizing over him. You hadn’t re-summoned him since you saw him last—the night he choked you until you passed out with his dick inside you. There were two big reasons for this. 

First, you were a bit embarrassed for passing out on him, although you knew that was nowhere near your fault. Your first time with a guy, and you pass out? Of course, his demonic hands were around your throat literally asphyxiating you, but you still felt slightly ashamed at the idea of him seeing you like that, and even taking the time to re-clothe you afterwards. You didn’t know if you could even look him in the eyes after that.

Secondly, and this was admittedly the biggest reason: you knew that you were no longer desirable to him. Your appeal to him was undoubtedly your virgin tears, blood, aura, whatever. You were a virgin, your very presence was like crack to him. But you’d fucked him. Well, started anyway, but it definitely counted. You weren’t a virgin anymore, not by his instinctual demon standards at least—not in the way he needed you to be. And what were you without your virginity other than some insignificant human soul in an endless sea of human souls? He didn’t need you anymore. 

But there was also the issue of the fact that he wasn’t human, and never would be. If all you did was contract him into sex, wouldn’t that just make him your demon prostitute who cleans your house sometimes? You didn’t have a contract last time, but it wouldn’t matter now anyway. There was no way he’d risk going contract-less again, especially if you weren’t a virgin anymore. 

So you decided to move on. He was bad for you in every way, a bad habit you needed to break. An addiction you needed to give up on. 

But it was certainly easier said than done. 

He haunted you, in your dreams, and even while you were awake. His post-it on your wall, taunting you, although you didn’t have the heart to rip it off. It wouldn’t matter if you did, anyway, you’d memorized his summoning phrase by heart. It was practically burned into you like a brand—a constant reminder of his hold on you. Even the inhuman taste of his lips lingered on yours for far longer than they should have.

You shook your thoughts of San from your head the best you could, refocusing on just having a good time tonight. You almost forgot the outside world existed with how much you’d been isolated with San in your apartment. It felt nice. 

You finished your night with a few more drinks, waving bye to your friends as they hopped in their ride-share. The bar wasn’t far from your apartment, and you lived in a relatively safe neighborhood, so you weren’t exactly worried about walking home by yourself at night. 

You had been drinking, but you didn’t necessarily feel drunk, perhaps just a little wobbly as you made your way through the neighborhood. A sign reading “road construction” blocked your path, and you noticed the sidewalk was completely cut off for the next few blocks. Walking all the way around would have taken forever, so you chose to cut through an alleyway to access the back entrance of your building. It was one you were familiar with—you’d taken it several times when you wanted to cut down your trip, but never at night. You walked through, keeping close to the wall lining the side because it offered the most visibility. It was quite dim, only the dull flickering of a rusty street light overhead giving any sense of light. 

Then you saw it. 

To your left, you caught a glimpse of crimson red shining almost like neon in the dim, flickering light of the alley, and then a glimpse of a fang sparkling bright white. You stumbled back, hitting the brick wall behind you. 

“Where ya goin’?” he taunted, taking another step forward. You couldn’t make out the features, but they were distinctly demonic. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in, except you somehow skipped right past those and straight to “freeze”. You were entirely frozen in place, your limbs scrambling to decide the best path of action. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

You darted to the right just as he closed in, immediately tripping over your own feet into the closest object, a dumpster. You turned on your heels to see his fangs bared fully, pearly and bright in the dark alley. 

You opened your mouth to scream, but the sound was suddenly dampened. A hand clamped over your mouth with a suffocating force. Before you could realize what was happening, you were shoved to your knees, skin scraping against the cold pavement. 

“Don’t move,” a voice hissed in your ear. San. You’d know that deep voice anywhere. You tried to choke out a few useless words, but your voice was helplessly muffled beneath the hand viced against your mouth. “Be quiet. I’m saving your life.”  

He shoved you by the shoulders behind a stack of large wooden crates next to the dumpster. You kept your head down, but you could make out their silhouettes in the dim light, although San’s figure blocked your eye line from getting a good view of the aggressor. 

"Low life," San growled, his words spitting out venomously. "What, you have nothing better to do than hunt humans? Pathetic." 

You heard the harsh, gritty tone of the figure speak, still veiled in the shadows. "San?" The figure laughed jovially. Something about it was incredibly unsettling. "What are you, some sort of human patrol? Or do you just want her for yourself?"  

"She's mine," he hissed. You couldn't see his face, but you could picture it twisting in anger from how maliciously he spat out his words. 

"Yours, huh? I know you like ‘em pure, but not enough to take another demon's prey."  

Was he implying you were still a virgin? But that wasn't—

"Leave," San snarled. "Before you make me do something we'll both regret." 

The figure took a step forward, unveiling himself in the light, though you could still barely make it out from behind the crates and with San’s figure blocking your view. 

“Fuck off. I was here first,” the demon spat.  

“I said… she’s mine.”

San lunged forward, but the demon dodged easily, throwing his fist forward to land a blow on San’s cheek. San shook his head furiously before moving to throw his own punch. 

The demon ducked to evade, but San anticipated it. His figure whipped around to the back of the demon, his body moving like a flash, almost as if he had phased out of reality. He swung his leg up with a fierce kick, sending the aggressor flying back into the alley wall, cracking the bricks in a cartoonish circle around him. You had no idea he could fight like that.

The demon faltered to his feet, shaking his limbs out casually like it was nothing. These demons were no joke—you wouldn’t have stood a chance running from him if San hadn’t been there. You’d be dead. 

The demon's mouth curled up into a snarl, baring his fangs ferociously as he lunged in San’s direction. San evaded easily, flashing around to his opponent’s side. 

“You’re clearly not very bright,” San taunted, delivering another kick to his core. The demon fell back again, lurching forward over his stomach with a pained gasp. He staggered against the wall, lifting his gaze to San closing in. 

San had him entirely cornered. His hand viced around the other demon’s throat, holding him in the air with a surprising display of strength. The demon’s feet scrambled hopelessly to find the concrete, dangling inches above the ground. Is that the kind of strength he was capable of? Holding up an entire body in the air as effortlessly as he would toasting a champagne glass? 

San shot a glance over his shoulder, black eyes glistening villainously under the dim lights. "Close your eyes, lamb. You're not gonna want to see this one. Trust me."

Your eyes squeezed together just in time for you to hear a sickening crack of bones snapping. Then complete, deafening silence for a moment.

You cracked one eye open as you heard his footsteps approaching you slowly. Your vision adjusted to see him knelt in front of you, seemingly surveying you for injury. 

"What the fuck was that?" you choked out. “Why was he—”

"He’s a rogue demon," he explained, shooting a deathly glare at the decapitated corpse. The sight was grisly, but somehow, the fact that the body wasn’t entirely human gave you some degree of solace. "Patrolling for souls. You’re an easy target. They can smell your pretty scent from a mile away."

You took another glance at the fresh corpse, stomach churning at the gruesome sight. His head was ripped cleanly off. Did San just do that with his bare hands? 

San gripped on to your forearm, squeezing hard. You noticed his hand shaking, just slightly. "C'mon. We need to go. Where there's one rogue, there's bound to be more. You smell like a walking piece of meat right now to them. If there's more, they know you're here." He tugged you to your feet. “Lead me to your apartment, okay darling? It’s close, hmm? Until then, you need to stay quiet. You talking—well, let’s just say it makes you easier to detect.”

You walked hesitantly but briskly the rest of the way to your apartment, legs shaking beneath you with every step. San kept a protective arm wrapped tightly around the small of your waist the whole way, but you couldn’t help but feel shaky. 

The minute you got home, all the questions you wanted to ask him flooded your brain. He guided you by the shoulders to the bedroom first, shutting the door behind you as if you had something to hide, despite being alone in the apartment. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you wouldn’t give him the chance.

“How did you find me?” you barked. “I haven’t summoned you in over a week. How did you know where I was?”

“I know,” he grumbled under his breath. Was he keeping track of the days like you were? You didn’t think he cared. “I’ve been, uh... I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” he responded, shifting his eyes to the side for a minute. Breaking eye contact wasn’t like him.

“You’ve been doing what? Like spying on me? I didn’t know demons could watch over humans like that. I thought you just came when you were called.”

“We can’t. We’re not like angels.”

“Angels? Ugh, never mind, not the point. So how did you—”

“I have some connections. It doesn’t really matter. The point is, I saved you back there. And you need to be more careful.”

You sighed. “What, so you care now?”

San nodded hesitantly. “I—I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I care a bit more than I should. About you.” His eyes drew up to yours, reeling you in like a magnetic pull. Except his gaze was less fierce than usual, just intense. Serious. 

“What are you trying to say?”

“I try to stay objective. About humans. It’s my job. Write contacts, steal souls. I’m not supposed to feel anything. And I’m certainly not supposed to alter fate to save one.”

Alter fate? Were you supposed to die tonight?

You paused. You were suddenly incredibly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, despite the implications of what he was saying. You were falling head first for him, but you couldn’t afford to have your heart broken. You were trying to move on. 

“Can you get me some water? My head is killing me,” you asked quickly, hoping you could change the subject when he came back.

He nodded, hoisting himself up from the edge of the bed, and came back with the glass, setting it on the night table gingerly. He was being uncomfortably gentle, and you weren’t exactly sure what to do with him. 

“I have a question,” you started hesitantly, using the lull in the conversation to move it elsewhere. “The demon. In the alley. He said I was pure. What did he mean? Because we—”

He gritted his teeth. “I’m not sure either. We certainly did do that, but I can smell it too, unmistakably. I’d know that scent anywhere. It’s driving me insane.”

“So I’m...”

“Still a virgin,” he finished. His tongue drew over his lip between the slight part of his teeth in thought. “I can only guess it’s because I’m not human. My body is, but only technically.” His eyes trained on you again, this time glimmering with a hint of desire. “Speaking of. Your smell is entirely distracting to me right now.”

He wasn’t the only one distracted. You hadn’t entirely forgotten what he looked like, of course, but you were still surprised every time you saw him. He looked hellishly attractive, glistening lightly with sweat, shirt clinging to his muscles tightly. You weren’t being subtle as you glanced at him up and down, practically drooling. You saw a familiar smirk twitch up on his lips, flashing and a brief display of fangs. “What’s that look for, lamb? Hmm? You look cute when you’re drooling over me.”

You shook your head, embarrassed. “Don’t you need to be going anyway?”

He leaned forward slightly, just enough to be able to reach you with his hand, brushing it along the cut of your jaw. “I wouldn’t feel right leaving you here tonight. Alone. If the rogues caught on to your scent, they’d be able to track you here.”

“But won’t you get in trouble without a contract?” 

“Who says we can’t make one now?” he asked, fixing his gaze directly with yours. He was right. You hadn’t really thought of that.  

“Alright, let’s say I asked you to guard me tonight. What do I give you in return?”

“Your body.” You paused, breath hitching in your throat as he dragged his fingernail along the skin of your neck again. “You’re free to decline but… I’m hoping you’d want to finish what we started as much as I do.” You glanced at your phone on the nightstand for a moment in thought, breaking eye contact, but he tipped your chin up to meet yours immediately. “What are you thinking about, darling, hm? That boy who gave you his number?”

“How did you—”

“I told you. I’ve been watching,” he explained with a charming smile. 

“Asshole. That’s creepy,” you grumbled through your teeth. It was creepy,  but another part of you couldn’t help but be flattered. 

“So, what do you say?” he asked eagerly, leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. 

You couldn’t deny, his body had been on your mind pretty much constantly since you’d seen him last. You craved the feeling of him inside of you again, the warm closeness of his skin pressed against yours, his hands exploring every inch of you. Most of all, you craved the hungry, insatiable way he looked at you, that made you feel desired in a way you’d never felt before.

“You’re not gonna choke me out again?” you teased, but you already knew your answer, pretty much either way. 

“No promises.” He winked charmingly, brushing his lips against yours. A tingle rocketed through your spine, the single fleeting taste of his lips the only incentive you needed for your next words.

“It’s a deal,” you confirmed, leaning into the feeling of his lips against yours. He pulled away with a teasing smirk. 

“Such a needy little human. Don’t get too eager, now. I like to have a little fun with my prey first.” He winked, flashing his fangs. You imagined them sinking into your skin, the sensation of his tongue dragging along your wound. You couldn’t believe how addicted you were to being a glorified blood donor for a sadistic house-demon. 

You whined a bit as he pulled away, breaking all contact with you. 

“San—” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth mockingly. “Needy little thing. Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun tonight. On my terms, of course.”

He teased you mercilessly as you went about your night, brushing himself up against you in the kitchen, lingering his lips just over your skin as he spoke to you and pulling away right when you tried to make a move. The restraint he was exercising just to get a rise out of you was impressive, and you pretty much fell right in his trap. You were squirming at the mere idea of his touch, knees nearly buckling under you every time he brushed against you. You were going mad.

You were washing dishes in the kitchen after eating a quick midnight snack with him. Your drinking in the bar earlier had you hungry for whatever was around, and due to the quickly growing pain of arousal, you wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. 

You felt his hands around your waist first, pulling your back into him from behind, his lips littering feather-light kisses on the back of your neck. Your hair stood on end, goosebumps pilling up on your arms as he kissed so very lightly. He nipped lightly a few times at the surface of your skin, fangs grazing sharply against the nape of your neck, then moving down to your shoulders, pulling down the collar of your shirt to get better access. 

You felt him growing hard against you from behind, his rock hard bulge pressing into your ass. You wiggled against it, and he delivered a harsh bite to the skin of your shoulder blades, not daring to break skin yet.

“Don’t tease me, lamb,” he purred against your skin, administering a harsh slap to the side of your ass. You hissed at the sting, but you couldn’t help but tease him again to see his next move. You pushed your hips back with a stronger force now, rocking your ass up against the form of his dick through his pants. A low growl rolled through his throat. “Testing me, hmm? Someone’s getting brave.”

You felt his teeth sink into the flesh of the back of your neck, and you whimpered at the sudden pain. He lapped at it slowly, softly, seemingly savoring every taste. You whined as he drew his tongue across your skin. “So… how do I punish you? I told you we were on my terms,” he sang sweetly in your skin, almost menacingly.

His hand traveled from your waist to the waistband of your small pajama shorts, pushing his fingers down to tease you through the fabric of your panties. You couldn’t help but let out small pants and moans as he finally gave attention to the dripping wet neediness between your legs, but you still needed more. He circled his index finger around your clit excruciatingly slowly. The sensation of his tongue on your skin and his touch through your underwear was almost more painful than none at all. You squirmed and writhed under the touch you’d been craving all night, letting out breathy moans as all your arousal from the night compounded.

He flipped you around suddenly, your back making contact with the cold counter. He lifted your shirt off, and you fumbled with the hem of his shirt, grasping desperately as you tried to remove it from his head. He smirked against your lips as he picked you up by the hips, hoisting you up like you weighed nothing. You clawed at him desperately to keep your balance as he led you to the bedroom, tossing you back on your bed like a toy. He stripped himself fully, his dick springing out from his pants excitedly. 

His eyes trained on your body hungrily as he crawled over you. “We’re playing by my rules today. Be a good girl, okay?”

You nodded, eagerly accepting whatever terms he had in order to feel him against you. You weren’t quite expecting his next words, though.

“You don’t cum unless I tell you to. And trust me, darling. You don’t want to know what happens if you disobey.” His lips twitched into a sadistic smile, marveling at your body as he kissed down torturously slow. He ripped your shorts, then your underwear, teasing his tongue and lips over your thighs for a while as you squirmed. Then, finally, giving you what you desired most. His tongue against your clit, warm and wet, washing you over with immediate pleasure like you’d never felt before.  

The sensation of his tongue against you was almost more than you could handle, and you were practically writhing and thrashing at the sensitivity. Heat rose in your core, flooding through your whole body. Your every nerve felt like it was on fire. He worked his tongue devilishly, leaving no part of your pussy untouched, dancing it along your clit like it was his only reason for existing. His tongue practically worshipped you, and you ate up the soft moans and growls that escaped him. His eyes were darker, but not fully consumed with black yet, as he glanced up from between your legs for only a moment, before going back in hungrily.

It was getting harder, nearly impossible actually, to keep your body from rocking itself into orgasm. It built inside you, a knot twisting at the base of your stomach, ready to burst at any moment. “San, please can I—”

“Cute. Begging. It won’t get you anywhere, darling,” he sang mockingly, his hot breaths washing over you. 

“Please—” Tears spilled over in your eyes, pouring down your cheeks as the sensations intensified seemingly exponentially. “Please please please,” you pleaded, not caring how desperate you sounded. You couldn’t take it. 

“There are those pretty, pretty tears,” he cooed. “Keep crying for me baby, then maybe I’ll consider letting you cum.”

Not that you had a choice, but you obeyed. The tears came and came as you thrashed under him, holding yourself back so much that you ached. You’d never been so restrained, for a moment you even wondered if this is what San felt like every day when holding back his urges.

He came up from between your legs for a moment to lick the salty tears from your face, dragging a fingernail under your chin. You squirmed needily under him, and although you knew begging wouldn’t get you anywhere, you felt you had no choice. 

“San—”

“Yes, lamb?” He met your eyes, and you could barely keep them open with the overwhelming sensations. 

“Please, I need you to… please. I can’t take it anymore.”

His wet tongue slid over your cheek, lingering his fangs over for a moment, then came up to meet your gaze. “Fine. I’ve had my fun for now, I suppose. But keep crying for me, mmkay? You’re cute when you’re helpless.”

He made his way back down, torturing his lips over every inch of your shoulders, breasts, stomach, hips, until finally settling between your legs again. The first brush of his tongue was nearly enough to send you over the edge, but you held out for a few moments, letting him get your completely riled up again. 

His fingers found their way inside you, only pumping a few times before you were completely putty in his hands. You shook as the orgasm rocked through you violently. San gripped your hips tightly as you thrashed, keeping you steady. You’d never cum so hard in your life, even when picturing San while you worked your vibrator. Somehow, he was ten times better. A million times, even. 

“Good girl,” he praised, stroking your stomach for a few moments before going back in with his tongue. You couldn’t control your hips from bucking violently as he lapped at your folds, completely drenched from your orgasm. You cried out—the sensitivity was almost too much to bear. “Now be a good girl for me and cum again.” 

“Ah—sensitive—” you whined, thrashing against his hands holding you down. You felt him smirk against you, indicating he knew exactly what he was doing. It took him barely even a few minutes to work you into your second orgasm, whimpering and shaking as you came down. Tears leaked from your eyes, some left over from your original bout, some fresh from the overstimulation. He came back up to lick them off your cheeks with a satisfied grin. 

“Good little lamb,” he purred. You loved his praise, even if it had a condescending sting to it, it felt so amazing dripping like honey in your ears. 

You were surprised how well he was keeping himself together, unlike your previous sexual encounter with him, where he’d completely lost control to his demon instincts. His eyes were darker than usual, a deep, sinister blood red, but not black. Nowhere near. That was a part of him you wished you didn’t have to see again.

You writhed under his touch as he swiped a finger between your folds, testing your wetness. “I’ll try to be gentle for this one,” he growled. “No promises.” 

“Fuck me, please,” you breathed against his lips, bringing your hand down to guide the tip of his dick right between your legs. 

He thrust in slowly at first, taking his time adjusting to every small movement. He shook as you watched his eyes flicker to black for a moment, then back to red, again to black, then red, as if he was fighting with himself. He pushed all the way in this time, bottoming out inside of you. You cried out, experiencing such complete fullness for the first time. He wasn’t enormous, in fact you’d say his cock was just the perfect size, but he was much bigger than any toy you’d ever used. 

“Fuck, those pretty little noises are gonna drive me crazy,” he growled lustfully, thrusting out and then in again fully. You threw your head back in pleasure, taking in every sensation of him stretching you out, his dick hitting exactly the right curves inside you, places you didn’t even realize he could reach. 

He fisted his hands in the sheets beside your head as he thrust in and out, alternating slow and fast in a way that made your head spin completely. He kept eye contact with you the entire time, the same hungry and magnetic gaze he always had, except there was something beneath the surface this time. Something softer, almost loving. You didn’t have a mind for romance now, though. 

Your mind could only process the feeling of him inside you. His fingernails dug into the sheets with so much force you swore they were going to rip to shreds in his grip. He latched his teeth onto your neck forcefully, drawing blood. At the same time, you felt him lurch inside of you, shaking and growling as he spilled out inside you. Warm cum dripped around his dick as he slid out slowly, and there was another warm sensation you could make out—blood spilling from your neck. 

“San—San—towel, now,” you demanded anxiously, the two dripping fluids making you feel a bit uneasy. He took care of the cum first, wiping it off the blanket, then lapped his tongue on your wound a few times before sticking a bandage on it. Where did he get that, anyway?

“You’re a mess,” he commented teasingly, a cheeky flash of fangs dancing up on his lips. 

“Yeah, thanks to you,” you grumbled, running your palm over the bandages securing your bite marks. “I can’t believe you didn’t… y’know.”

“Lose it?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Trust me darling, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Your taste is especially intoxicating. Your pussy tastes even better than your blood, somehow.”

You laughed at the unexpected compliment. It felt weird for such a hot guy to be talking to you about the taste of your pussy at 2am. A demon, no less. You almost felt embarrassed in his gaze, despite just fucking so intensely. You were suddenly incredibly self-conscious about your naked body as he watched you. You wrapped yourself in your hands, shrinking down slightly as you concealed your body from his gaze. 

“Hey, stop that,” he said firmly. “Why are you hiding? Your body is incredible. I’d say you look like an angel, but we kinda hate those where I’m from.” He smiled gently. “But you do look divine.”

Heat rose through your cheeks, staining them red. He’d always complimented your smell, your taste—he’d never praised your body before. You motioned towards the closet, and he tossed you a shirt reluctantly. You threw it quickly over your head, still feeling bashful despite his nice comment. 

You fell asleep shortly after getting cleaned up, tucked neatly into your bed by your sweet house-demon.

Demons, you learned, didn’t need sleep, despite their human need for practically everything else—food, massages, sex. You had forgotten for a moment why he was even there in the first place, the sex having completely over-ridden the events of the day beforehand. You forgot all about being potentially in danger, your mind only filled with thoughts of San.

He sat by your side all night, or so you knew from what he told you the next morning. He said you were cute when you sleep. His lamb. The idea of him watching over you protectively all night made your heart ache, in a way both good and bad. You weren’t sure if you could say it for sure yet, but you were falling in love with him. 

But it could never work between you. It was too good to be true. It had to be.

[kilesplaysthings]

i made a part 2~ :3

How the Comte Fell in Love with Death

Part 2: The House in the Woods

The rumors were not that far off the mark, apparently. Comte thought as he stared in mild awe at the manor house that loomed before him amidst the shadows of the surrounding forest. It was just as everyone had said: the manor was dark and decrepit with ivy creeping up its walls. The shutters were drawn, the garden and lawn were overgrown with weeds and other dry brush. The front porch steps were broken, paint was chipped everywhere and pillars were rotting through. A feeling of decay emanated from the whole estate.

“Looks abandoned. We sure anybody’s living here?” The coachman asked, shooting his employer a skeptical look.

“That is to be decided,” The Comte said. He gingerly walked through the overgrown lawn and approached the front porch of the house. The place certainly looked like it could be haunted – a far cry from the elegance and opulence of his own mansion.

There was still a door knocker – a rusted thing that peeled at the slightest touch. He used it to knock on the door. Even from outside, he could hear the sound echo through the house inside.

A minute passed. Then another. Comte waited. Others may have chalked the rumors up to being just rumors, that this house was simply an abandoned ruin, but his heightened senses told him no. Someone was here.

Finally he could hear someone shuffling through the house and towards the door. It then opened slightly with quite the audible creaking of old wood and rusted hinges. He could barely glimpse a brown eye peeking warily out at him through the crack.

“Who is it?” A voice whispered.

Comte met the nervous gaze and smiled.

“Is the lady at home?”

He could see the eye narrowing. The door did not open further.

“Who wants to know? Why are you here?”

“I am the Comte de Saint-Germain, and I am here to introduce myself to the lady of the house.”

At that, the door suddenly opened more to the point that he could see the person who had answered him. Standing before him was the bent figure of an older woman. She was dressed in the black dress and cap that signified she was a housekeeper. Her face was pale and wrinkled, lines of care etched on her forehead and around her mouth and eyes. She glowered at him, but the Comte’s sixth sense could tell she was not a cruel person.

“How did you know that a lady lives here? Are you here to nose around like all the other busybodies that have come ghost hunting?” She asked sharply.

“Believe me, I am not here to snoop or pry. I only wish to meet her.”

The housekeeper stared at him warily. Then she tilted her head.

“Hm. You don’t seem to be like the others. That’s all you want to do? Meet her?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“You’re not some investigator or reporter trying to catch a story for a paper or anything?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I have no sinister intentions.”

She took a deep breath. “Come in. I’ll see if she will agree to meet you.”

He thanked her. The door opened wider for him and he stepped inside to the foyer. The house was a little tidier on the inside than on the outside, but everything was dark; quite dark. The widows were shuttered and the curtains drawn. The only light was from a small fire in the nearby fireplace. In the dim light, he could perceive a few pieces of furniture covered over by sheets. They cast shadows on the walls and he could glimpse peeling wallpaper as he looked around.

“Forgive the lack of proper light or furniture, but I’m only one housekeeper. And as you can see, we aren’t accustomed to entertaining guests.”

Comte shook his head graciously. “Do not worry. I’m happy to be standing after a long carriage ride.”

“Is that right? Well, you can warm yourself by the fire while you wait. I’m sure you must be chilled if it’s as cold out there as it is in this drafty house.” She remarked. “I won’t be long.”

And with that, she lit a candle that she took from a candle holder on the mantlepiece and made her way up the shadowy staircase. It wasn’t long before her black dress faded into the darkness and out of his sight.

The house was so quiet to the point that he could hear the rustling of her skirts and her footsteps upon the wooden floor from above. As he warmed his hands, he listened to her walking to the far left until she suddenly stopped. He then heard her quietly knocking on a door before opening it.

He took a deep breath and stared into the small fire. He wondered if the housekeeper had only just lit it now for him. Looking around, he could tell that everything was dark and dank and dusty. He couldn’t imagine any lady living like this. Not only that, he could also sense something hovering in the air. It was something oppressive and foreboding. No doubt it had to do with the lady that he had come to see. He had to do something about her.

Soon, he could once again hear the housekeeper upon the stairs. Glancing her way, he spotted her on the stair, five steps above him. She peered down at him in the light of the flickering fire, still holding the lit candle.

“She’ll see you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you. After you,” he replied.

With a sniff, the lady turned and led him upstairs. The corridor on the second floor was even darker than the foyer, for there was no fire to guide their way. Even someone like him had to keep his eyes on the candle held by the lady in front of him to see. As he walked down the hall with the housekeeper, he felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for this lady who lived here. To be so ostracized from the world, with only one companion, dwelling in the dark; how lonely she must be! The more he thought about her situation, the more eager he was to meet her.

The two of them stopped at a door near the end of the hall. The housekeeper opened the door and signaled him to follow her inside. They were in what seemed to be a bedroom suite. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was dimly lit. The shutters were open for the windows to let in a little bit of sunlight that shone through faded curtains. There were still sheets covering all of the furniture, but the area had definite signs of cleanliness unlike the rest of the house.

“Give me a minute,” the older lady said as she set the candle down on a nearby mantlepiece.

She then tugged the sheets off of a table and two chairs and invited him to be seated. As he sat down, he watched her go over to a door at the far end of the room and quietly knock on it. Comte assumed it led to the lady’s bedroom. A soft voice spoke and the housekeeper quickly entered the inner room. As he sat there, he could hear two women’s voices speaking softly to one another. Suddenly the door opened again.

A lady dressed all in black stepped out of the room. Her pale face was barely visible behind a veil of black lace and even her hands were covered by black gloves. She slowly approached him, walking with a natural grace that almost looked like she glided across the floor. Comte watched her, standing up politely to greet her. They made quite the pair: a figure all dressed in golds facing a figure all dressed in black.

“Rebecca says you wished to meet me,” she spoke in a soft voice.

“Yes, and it’s a pleasure. I am known as the Comte de Saint-Germain.”

She stretched out a gloved hand to invite him to sit back down. He could feel her watching him even though he couldn’t see her eyes very well.

“A Comte, is it? May I ask the reason for this visit, Sir? I don’t get many visitors, as you can guess. At least, none of the good kind."

"I have no particular reason. I just wished to meet you.”

The lady in black sighed. “You’ve heard all of the rumors, haven’t you?”

“I will not lie to you. I have heard one or two.”

“No doubt people claim I’m some evil spirit who haunts this place that curses anyone who tries to get a glimpse of me,” was her snide remark.

“I have heard something of the like, but it wasn’t because they said you were a ghost that I came here. I knew for a fact that you weren’t a ghost.”

There was a pause.

“You knew, did you? How?”

“May I ask this first? Are the other rumors true that you kill any living thing you touch?”

Another pause. The housekeeper, who was bringing in some tea, gave the lady a nervous glance.

“Did you come for a show? Is that why you’re here?” She asked in a low voice.

“Not exactly.”

“Because there’s nothing here I can show you. I’m not some trained monkey from a circus who will do a trick for a reward.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Comte answered quietly.

“I could do it, you know. One touch from me, and you’d be dead.”

She was threatening him, no doubt to scare him away. He merely smiled at her serenely.

“That’s what I came to talk to you about, actually. How long have you had this, shall we say, ability?”

“How long?” She repeated, confused.

“Yes. You weren’t born with this ability, I’m sure.”

“No…” She spoke in a hushed voice. “I was not…” Shaking hands took hold of her teacup. Comte watched her as she lifted her veil slightly to bring the cup to her pale lips.

“I’m curious about another thing. Pardon my rudeness, but how old are you?”

She hesitated. “One and twenty.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And how long have you been one and twenty?”

“Look here, just what are you getting at?” Rebecca, the housekeeper, interjected defensively.

“I assure you, I mean your lady no harm.” He continued to speak calmly and softly. “I’m here because I suspected foul play on your lady’s behalf and now that I’ve met her, I can definitely sense something dark hovering around her.” He glanced at the veiled lady across from him.

“And I want to help you.”

“Help me? How could you help me?” She wondered despairingly.

“You want to know how I got like this? Fine, I’ll tell you! It was a witch! She cursed me and tormented me and my family! We were all alone, cut off from the rest of society, and she preyed on us like a beast. I don’t know why she hated me, but she put this curse on me and made my life a living hell!

‘Your family will abandon you and the world will hate you. You shall no longer be able to enjoy the caresses from loved ones, for you will take their life!’ And ever since then, from that cursed autumn in 1612, I’ve been like this.”

She gripped her teacup and bowed her head. Comte could see her shoulders quivering.

“I was fine with it at first, completely focused on staying away from people so I wouldn’t kill anyone or be attacked by anyone. But that witch also cursed me with a long life and eventually, cutting myself off from everyone and everything became… so lonely. If not for Rebecca, I feel I would have gone mad.”

“My lady…” The housekeeper uttered softly, tears in her eyes.

“I have been through many hardships. I have lost almost everything. How exactly do you think you can help me?” She continued, gazing at her guest, now more bewildered than angry.

“So it was a witch?” Comte muttered to himself. He took a deep breath and spoke to her in a firm voice.

“I will help you find the one who cursed you.”

The ladies gasped.

“How? It was so long ago, and she’s a witch! Even if she’s still alive, how do you think you’ll be able to find her? And even if you do, what would you be able to do about her?”

“Do not fret. I have my ways.” He suddenly smiled. “You are a human than has been cursed severely. But I am not a mere human.”

The Comte stood tall and strong. He gazed at the lady with gleaming eyes.

“I knew there was something odd about you..” Rebecca whispered. “I said as much to her before you came up here..”

“I will reiterate, I mean no harm,” Comte said to the nervous Rebecca. The lady, on the other hand, sat in her chair unmoving. Whether she was scared or not, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Perhaps it is not my business, but I am very fond of humans and I do not like to see their lives toyed with like this. I have heard your plight and I want to help you. Will you come with me?”

“Come with you?” She quietly repeated. “To where?”

“I have a mansion. It is located not too far from here. It is well furnished and well kept, unlike this run-down house. I am inviting you to stay there. If you agree, I promise you, you will be well-cared for. You will want for nothing, and I will protect you.”

“You..!” Rebecca wanted to speak, but she found that she couldn’t think of the right words to say.

“Why should I come with you?” The lady demanded. She had set her teacup down and her gloved hands clutched the skirts of her dress.

“Are you trying to play the Good Samaritan? I don’t care who or what you are. I don’t need your pity!”

“It is true. My heart does pity you. It aches for you. To be so alone, all these years…”

Comte spoke in a low voice, and as he spoke, he approached her slowly.

“W-what are you..? Sir! You must take care!” Rebecca exclaimed as he walked towards the seated woman. She was about to dart over and grab his arm, but with one sharp glance from him, she froze.

He walked around the table to the lady’s chair and the lady in question stayed rooted to her seat. She knew if she made any quick movements, she could accidentally touch either one of them and they would die. Suddenly, with a dart of his arm, he gripped the back of her chair and leaned down until his face was leveled with hers.

The lady gasped in shock. “You’re too close!” She hissed.

“Tell me,” Comte murmured. “What is your name?”

His other hand held a teaspoon and he lifted it to her veil. It slipped in between the lacy fabric and he used the spoon to lift it up until her face was revealed. He was now gazing upon a pale, heart-shaped face that was petite and fair, with prominent cheekbones and a celestial nose. Long lashes framed a pair of wide eyes of a most unusual color: crimson.

She was beautiful.

“What..?” She muttered. He had asked her a question, but it hadn’t registered.

“Your name, Cherie. What is your name?” His voice was low and smooth; soft and beckoning. It was easy to be entranced by him.

“It is…Sabrina.”

“Sabrina.” He tested her name on his tongue. He liked the way it sounded.

“Quite beautiful. Like your eyes. Such beautiful eyes – the color of blood.”

A surprising faint blush appeared on her pale cheeks as he spoke. He was so close to her, but she still could not move or take her gaze off of his own golden eyes.

“Sir, please!” Rebecca finally exclaimed, frightened for her mistress. “Please be mindful of my lady’s boundaries! For your sake and hers!”

He finally broke his piercing gaze and straightened back up to look at the housekeeper.

“My apologies if I frightened you both. What I said, I said in earnest. I do wish to help you. You need not fear me.” He stepped away from the table and chairs and both ladies let out shaky breaths.

“I will show myself out. If I may be so bold, please consider my invitation Miss Sabrina. I won’t force you to make up your mind right away, but I will be back to visit. I look forward to seeing you again.”

And with a smile, he opened the door and left, making his way downstairs in the dark and back outside.

Rebecca heaved a sigh and leaned against the empty chair. “What an odd fellow. He doesn’t seem vicious, but he said he wasn’t exactly human… I can’t help but worry. Wouldn’t you agree, my lady?” She asked as her mistress slowly got up and stared out of one of the windows. It faced the back of the house, overlooking nothing but weeds and the forest beyond. She couldn’t see the man leave, but she heard the carriage ride away.

She placed a shaking hand against the window pane and stared bleakly out to the trees beyond. His invitation was sincere, she could tell. The thought of leaving this old house filled her with hope, but at the same time, she had no idea who this Comte really was. Could she truly trust him?

[shini--chan]

1p (yandere) allies or axis The (country)reader gives them love and affection, because she knows they in love with her. They have a relationship, for few months. One day they come home and in the private office are really important documents missing. And they see the reader in the next meetings not (for years?). One day they see her again, what would they do?

Yandere Allies

America

He grinned menacingly at the sight of you. Anger was already slithering through your veins, the harsh snap of it causing his mind to fall into a familiar calculating state. He had fantasied about this moment for a long time, yearned for your touch for a long time, desire to crush you for your transgressions for a long time.

Maybe he was a moonstruck fool that simply couldn’t let go for feeling his heart palpitate upon the sight of you. Or he was just plain sadistic by the blissful way his blood rushed upon seeing you pale with fear.

Running away wouldn’t work at this point, since Alfred would be dead set on obtaining you and making you repent for your sins. He wouldn’t take espionage lightly, especially since you represented a honey-trap. All the memories he would have about you would be pleasant ones, and he would reflect back on those times where you were so perfect fondly. America would aim to recapture those moments and mould your persona to his liking.

He may or may not meet you again by chance, or he would have been actively hunting you down. If there is anything that can enrage America, it would be being bested – something you would have somehow accomplished with frightening ease. And something you would have to pay for. In Alfred’s eyes, it would just be fair play.

Canada

One moment you were calmly going through the aisles of the store, the next you were staring into indigo eyes. There was a smile on Matthew’s face – the soft, considerate kind that didn’t reach his eyes. There, an icy glint lingered, dangerous and subtle like frostbite in the bleak mid-winter.

Internally, you knew that was far more deadly than the usual temper tantrums, that people throw once they are betrayed. By the likes of it, you had made a fatal error in your calculations.

If you thought you’d be facing a flimsy little wallflower that has no backbone, then think again. Matthew’s anger is ice, and therefore he isn’t as blinded by emotions as others would be. Sure, deep down he would still love you (or rather be obsessed with you), yet that doesn’t mean that you would be off the hook.

No way in the whole world would he let you get away with what you did. However, with his kind words and sugary tone you wouldn’t be aware of the full extent of his rage. Unluckily for you, Canada is a hunter and he would know exactly how to pin you down and ensure you wouldn’t be able to escape until he would have his justice.

 China

“It has been a very long time, hasn’t it, my little rabbit?”, a silky-smooth voice inquired behind you. Startled, you whipped around, nearly spilled the champagne that you were delicately holding, and stared him in the eye.

The amber was cat-like, just like the tight smile on his lips. Feline as he was, no doubt he had all intentions to play with his prey. The music being drawn from the piano would be the requiem of your pride, and the other guests to the gala the audience to applaud the abrupt turn of your fate.

“When you went away, you broke my heart. I was struck by betrayal and I couldn’t keep my thoughts off you.

“Often, I would fantasize about you – what I would say, what would you say. But in the end, that is all irreverent. I’m simply a victim of the circumstances, here to set matters straight and you have gone ahead and set the stage. I am most touched”, he drawled, genuine hurt in his light tone.

The other people had started to look and whisper, the impending fall from grace too delicious to pass up. Such negative attention made you clutch the fragile stem of the flute even tighter.

Glass shards could never evoke as much pain as Yao’s sharp tongue.  

China would be smouldering with rage underneath the artfully crafted theatre mask. First of all, he would angry at himself. Due all the experience he has under his belt, he should know better than to fall for the tricks of some young fledgling. Still he did and the implications infuriate him. Nonetheless, the whole affair would be analysed and carefully catalogued in his mind to prevent you from ever having the upper hand again.

Secondly, he would be upset with you. Did all those kind words really mean nothing to you? All those tender moments, all those affections – a magnificent lie? He’d hope that deep down you had sincerely fallen in love with him. Through he wouldn’t be so foolish to act on that assumption. As old as he may be, he isn’t senile.

Try as you might to wriggle out of it, he wouldn’t let you. In an indirect way, you would have brought disgrace to his name by making him look like a fool. That means he wouldn’t hesitate to thoroughly humiliate you in public. Then he’d ensure that you would wind up in his gracious custody – with no means of ever leaving him. Having then isolate you, he would use that precious time with you to re-educate you. Whoever did it before he entered your life evidently did a measly job.  

England

When you switched on the light to your living room, you nearly tripped over your own feet in shock. Malice danced like fae fire in the pair of eyes that scrutinized your every move and drank in your terrified expression like it was whisky.

Eventually overcoming the initial shock, you seethed: “What are you doing here. Decent people knock on the door and don’t simply invite themselves in!”

“Strange for you to say that. Even hypocritic, if I may remark”, Arthur lightly said, words slow as if he was weighing every word against gold. No doubt he was barely holding all the insults back.

He gestured to the armchair opposite him. “Have a seat. There all a lot of things we need to talk about, and loose end to tie up.”

Out of all the nations, England would be the most volatile. When your relationship would have started, he would have been cautious, even suspicious to a degree. His paranoia would have been well-founded, especially with how many times he’d been backstabbed in the past. That he had invested his trust in you only for you to abuse it would reaffirm his belief that it would be best to keep his hackles raised. Never tiring, he would hunt you down, constantly torn between the desire for revenge and how he would yearn for your love. That mixture would be potentially lethal.

Arthur might kill you with the justification of “if I can’t have you, no-one can” or also “a fitting punishment for your crime. However, that option would just be further down his list. If you act polite, then he would largely reciprocate the favour. If you lash out or even just insult him then he would rain fire and brimstone down on you.

The conversation would be like an interrogation, with only a thin veil of civility leaving room for something else. Should you beg for his forgiveness, then he would be pleased and even a bit lenient. That doesn’t mean that you’d evade the punishments he’d have instore for you.

France

You saw Francis before he saw you, a lucky thing on your part. Your former lover looked lost. Not that it was the initial impression that a random pass byer would glean from him, but you knew him better.

For a brief moment your thoughts darted to the documents you had leaked to your government – damaging, condemning information if it were to land in enemy hands, which was exactly what happened. If you didn’t know better, then you would pity poor France for the travesty that happened.

You prowled forward to him. Such a sappy fool, you could probably convince him that you still loved him. Maybe you could glean some more information from him.

Your hubris would really be the end of you. Naturally, France would be overjoyed to see you and immediately welcome you back with open arms and a giddy smile. Just remember that love, or rather obsession in his case, isn’t harmless. The limerence he would have with you would entail that he would squirrel you away and hoard you.

In the beginning, you wouldn’t even fully notice where the whole matter would be heading, either blinded by your own false pride or by Francis’ suave manner. Either way, if you wouldn’t wake up to his counter machinations fast, then you’d have all the information you could wish from him but no means to reporting it to your superiors. Your foolishness would land you in a gilded cage.  

Russia

Once he reached the top of the hill you noticed him. Ivan was strolling down the same path that cut through meadows and forests, just a few metres ahead of you. Of all times to meet him, you had least expected it to be during your evening stroll.

You halted in your tracks, contemplating if it would be better to wait until the danger was far away or to immediately turn around and head back home. Russia ended up making the choice for you, and it was neither of the options you had in mind.

He must have somehow sensed your presence, for he glanced over your shoulder. Recognition flashed over his defined visage and it evoked a sense of dread in you. Especially when he pivoted around and approached you.

With some difficulty, you swallowed your fear, because you knew that Ivan was like a wolf that would mangle you if he whiffed weakness. Meticulously, you adored your lips with a picture-perfect smile, a painter adding the finishing touches to their masterpiece in your own right.

“It is a wonderful evening, eh?”, he asked you, in that soft voice you were so well acquainted with.

Russia would first play on pleasantries. However, don’t be fooled. He can hold a grudge and once in his grasp, he would shy away from making his displeasure known. You’d have to be very lucky to escape him and more to permanently evade him. The chance would be slim, yet it would be there. And don’t think that he would be stupid enough to point it out to you.

Your betrayal would have been a smarting blow to him, even if he would have half-expected him. And to him, petty little information thieves are surprisingly worse than cold-blooded murderers. The threat you would represent wouldn’t be obvious, yet that wouldn’t stop with from curbing all those bad habits. He’d miss the person you had displayed yourself as when you had been wooing him and he would do his best to build you to be that person in reality.

[shintorikhazumi]

“Dance For Me.”

A/N: Here’s your pole-dancing AU you bunch of thirsty… people on discord. Idk, I’m bad at… trashtalk if it’s not for self-defense. I also don’t cuss unless it’s in fics. Because I’m technically not cussing, the characters are *wink wink*.

Batting second after Lary! Khazumi~ Coming in! Unless someone already finished before I did and I didn’t notice, haha.

I’m not one to write NSFW. At least not for public… consumption. Borderline, yes. But like… I suck at NSFW, not gonna lie. I’ll try my very best?

I'm also sorry that I can't write pole dancing very well. Hope you can... picture out what's going on. haha.

Weirdest thing I searched for confirmation while writing this was ‘during intercourse are your pupils constricted or dilated’ Because my mind is so lost rn hahha.

My timeline here is before Christmas. I’m sorry. I need it.

Basically, I'm sorry for this trashy fic.

ayt.

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi 

This… is not quite what Diana expected when she left Akko this morning for work at the estate.

The past few months, Akko had been busy with teaching her classes at Luna Nova, on top of performing her scheduled weekend shows in town that the woman just wouldn’t give up the chance to do. Always for the smiles, always for the people’s happiness.

And Diana loves her for that, she really does. Dear Beatrix, she loves her wife- of three years now- to death.

But while she had been excitedly looking forward to the holidays, winter rolling around, expecting that she’d finally have her wife-mind you- all to herself, said wife had other plans, it seems.

Akko had agreed to be booked almost daily this season, and despite being home in Diana’s arms each night, she had absolutely zero energy to do anything but snuggle up to the former heiress and fall asleep in the blink of an eye.

Diana had pouted for days on end, telling Akko to give her one day, to spend just one day with her.

Akko, despite all her regrets of leaving her wife like this, couldn’t just cancel. But she had promised to dedicate the two days before the twenty-fifth, right up ‘til the end of vacation to her lovely spouse.

And Diana has to reluctantly agree. She knows in her heart that this is Akko’s passion, it’s what makes her the amazing woman known for her beautiful believing heart.

Diana just needs patience. So much patience.

But then, on the day of Christmas Eve, she gets a call from the manor. It’s related to the estate. About a sudden accident with one of her people. She couldn’t not go. At least she’d try to finish up early so she could offer her remaining time to-

Akko’s phone rings.

It’s a special request. A little girl’s birthday. And she just had to see the amazing Kagari (-Cavendish) Atsuko perform her special magic. Now this wouldn’t have been that much of a problem had the party been in the morning or early afternoon, however it appeared as though it would take place around five pm. Diana knows it will run overtime. It always does. Everyone loves to bask in the presence and utter warmth of ‘Atsuko’ after all.

So, Begrudgingly, they both prepare for their respective agendas, Diana feeling absolutely depressed over the fact that she would be coming home for Christmas eve to an empty house, cold halls, devoid of the calming scent and lovely voice of her wife singing her favorite Shiny Chariot showtune from the kitchen as she cooked all of Diana’s favorites.

Akko notices. She always does.

She walks up to the sulking blonde, cupping her face in her hands, chuckling at those pouty lips, those teary eyes. “I’m really sorry, my Diana.” She whispers. “Really, I am.”

Diana sighs in defeat, pulling her wife into one last bearhug before work.

“Can I at least have my own Magical Atsuko show?” She uncharacteristically turns her puppy eyes to her wife, only ever showing Akko this spoiled child within.

“I’ll only give you the very best.”

“With a little song?”

“Whatever you’d like

“Mm…” Diana nodded, looking down at her feet before raising her head, one last question on her mind. “Dance for me?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Akko laughed, nuzzling her nose on Diana’s. “But for now,” She pinches the taller witch’s nose playfully before planting a kiss. “This is for the kids.”

…

This is DEFINITELY NOT “for the kids”. For any kids. For anyone for that matter. Diana would never show this to anyone. Over her dead. Lifeless. Fucking. Body.

Nonononono. Diana shakes her head a thousand times internally.

No.

Just no.

Diana gasps as she drops her suitcase on the floor, the contents spilling out at the impact. She had not expected this of all things. She imagined coming home to an empty house, no Akko, and miserable reheated food.

She hadn’t expected unlocking her door to the smells of a rotisserie chicken, some wine, and Akko’s homely scent.

She wasn’t expecting the low thrum of music in the background. She didn’t think that her wife would stand in front of her, in her usual show outfit- no. Wait. This isn’t her show outfit.

Like hell she’d wear that to a children’s party!!

No, this. THIS… This is a knock-off Shiny Chariot costume that is far too skimpy to be sold to the young and pure fans of Chariot. This is one of those costumes you’d see them sell adults for dumb pranks on Halloween, or see it at those kinds of shops.

How did Akko even get that?

Online?

The internet is truly fearsome. Shameless. So Shameless.

And so is Diana as she gawks at her pretty wife, donning a very short white skirt, a top that very much exposes her midriff- technically, only holding together those perky mounds-, a cape that is probably the only thing covering her wife that can be counted as decent, thigh-high- gosh- those thigh-high boots, hair free of that small side pony-tail; and that signature white witch hat tops off the ensemble.

“Welcome home~” Akko greets with her usual cheer, expression innocent and beaming, before it shifts a sultry color, tone dropping into a hushed invitation. “Diana.”

Said woman is quiet, she struggles to form a response.

Akko.

‘Let’s try saying your wife’s name now, Diana Cavendish.’

“A-A-A-A… aaahhhh…”

Oh, Great Beatrix, give me strength.

A lot of it. A trolley’s worth, if you must.

…-and stamina. Please. Strength and stamina to endure.

And Clearly Diana isn’t wishing to hold her ground against temptation.

She might just have a long night ahead.

“Diana.”

“Y-yes! I’m l-listening. Very clearly… most…. Definitely…” She says whilst staring at the gracious amounts of cleavage-

“Of course you are, babe.” Akko chuckles in that sickeningly sweet tone, taking a step forward as Diana takes one back. “Where are you going?” She takes another, as does Diana in the opposite direction, her back meeting the hard wood of their front door.

“N-nowhere, I’m… I’m Home.” Diana feels her hands become clammy, shaking, as she wonders where to put them.

“Heh~… I thought you were running away or something.” Akko smiles kindly, actions not as kind. She traps Diana with her body, arms on either side of her head. “And I wouldn’t like that. Would you?” Her eyes flutter innocently, lashes long, eyes wide.

There was clearly only one correct answer.

“N-no.”

“Good.” Akko laughs like gentle chimes, pleasant to the ear.

Diana smiles, feeling a little more relaxed.

-Before one hand comes off the wall and now climbs up her torso, Akko’s index and middle fingers walking up to Diana’s tie before her hand takes it, pulling it out of the vest.

“I always liked it when you wore ties.” She murmured, eyes blank and scrutinizing the tie. Before Diana could respond, Akko was already resting her head on Diana’s chest, hand absent-mindedly twirling the thin red tie. “I also like that you wear my colors on you.” Akko raised her head, pulling on Diana’s tie so that their faces came so incredibly close to one another, lips a hair’s breadth apart. “Tells people that you're mine.”

That effectively steals the air out of Diana’s lungs as Akko steps back, still holding fast to the tie, pulling Diana along, as if on a leash. Her Japanese wife leads her to the living room and sits her down on their amazingly comfortable couch.

But not even that could ease Diana’s tense nerves.

“H-Hi.”

“Hi, Diana.” Akko greets back, leaning over her wife, a finger gliding from the base of Diana’s throat to her jaw, tipping it up to guide blue eyes up to meet the most intoxicating wine. “What was your last little request for me this morning, again?”

“I- I… uh… um…”

“Yes?” The brunette lowers her body onto Diana’s head tucked between the poor heiress’ shoulder and neck, peppering kisses along her jaw. “Please remember, darling. I really want to do it for you, you know?” She chuckles, biting on a certain spot near Diana’s throat making her yelp, then licking the area to ease the pain. “I prepared really well for it. I tried so hard for you.”

Definitely not the only thing that was hard, Diana thinks.

An uncontrolled whine tears its way out of the blonde’s mouth, mind desperately trying to remember what the hell she last asked.

Then it clicks.

“D-dance…”

“Hmm?”

“Dance for me…?”

Akko seems elated with her answer, nuzzling her neck once before pulling away, Diana missing her warmth… or heat. Or both.

“With pleasure.”

Diana is sure there will be a lot of pleasure involved.

With a flick of her wand (where had Akko hidden that?), a pole rises from the floor in the open space of the room. Akko stalks hypnotizingly towards it, grasping the hard metal with one hand before smoothly pulling herself into her first twirl.

‘Oh Great Nine. This is one of those dances, isn’t it?’

Diana swallows so painfully, finding her throat constricted, the opposite to her dilating pupils as she watches her wife with the focus of a predator waiting on its prey.

Off goes the cape, and Diana only now realizes just how little of her wife’s ass is actually covered by that skirt.

She loves Akko’s ass- She loves Akko. Period.

-along with her thighs and bottom.

She admires her better half’s toned body, muscles flexing and simply wonderful as Akko spins herself around the pole gracefully, hanging onto it with only one hand. The elegance of the movements allows Diana to forget her barely restrained arousal, leaving her in awe for a few moments.

Then a toned leg wraps itself around the pole, Akko rolling her body up against it, turning her gaze to Diana, eyes half-lidded and so sinful. All that talk about grace- screw it, right now.

Another twirl, and another, and another.

Akko climbs her way up the pole so sensually, Diana wishes she were the one being climbed like that. Then Akko stops near the top, almost as though she was frozen. Diana waits with bated breath, before Akko’s hands suddenly release the pole, falling backwards; and Diana panics, thinking something happened and her wife was about to hit the ground hard- but only the hat does so. Akko’s body hangs smoothly in the air, legs squeezing tight, flexing those amazing thighs.

Oh, to be between them instead.

The spinning restarts. Repeats over and over, legs stretching out, then pulling in. At times, an arm would reach out, almost as if it were inviting the audience in, to come closer; to come touch this performer. Then Akko lowers herself to the ground, movements sophisticated, nimble, body poised, and oh so sensual. It’s an interpretative dance, and there must be story behind it.

Diana just doesn’t have enough brain power to process it.

She gasps as her wife stands up; the skirt is forgone, leaving Akko in racy black panties that matches her top that might as well not exist. And again, she’s on that pole, embracing it, caressing it with one hand, down to her body, allowing her palm to slide down her chest to a taut stomach, abs glistening in sweat, before reaching down her legs, and between her thighs, then out, back to latching onto the pole.

The loss of garment shouldn’t distract her. She’s sure this action was to give her wife better grip on the pole. Definitely the reason. Yes. Not because this was… was a… that.

Of course.

Breaking the unspoken rule of silence, a voice suddenly begs for her attention.

“Diana…”

…

Fuck.

“Nnmm!”

Diana throws her head back for a second, needing to relieve her burdened senses at the sight that had just greeted her mere moments ago.

Akko had basically rubbed herself against the pole, her most intimate place surely touching it as she slid up then down, dropping into an air-split, barely hovering over the ground, still twirling, yet painfully slow this time, basically presenting herself to the very red mess breathing heavily on the couch.

Diana’s not sure she can stay seated anymore. She’s been holding back. She’s certain she can’t keep holding back.

“But why are you holding back?”

The question throws her for a loop, eyes so wide, as she stares at Akko’s tantalizing figure, draped over her pole, breathing as difficultly as Diana is.

She releases her show equipment, leaving the pole to disappear as she strides forward provocatively, halting in front of Diana, placing her hands down on the blonde’s open lap, freeing them from their squeezed-together position just moments ago. They massage at Diana’s thighs, and the heiress moans, unsuppressed.

Her dancer takes a seat on her lap, hands busying themselves with loosening Diana’s tie a bit more, removing it from her before Akko slings it around her own neck.

“You are so mean, Diana… even after I called for you so many times…” Akko whispers against her lips, eyes fiery and slightly angered. Diana’s hands are guided to rest on Akko’s hips as she grinds against her wife needily. “Utterly horrible.”

It should be the winter season as it was Christmas. Diana knows that the outside world was harshly cold and chilly, but that temperature did not seem to apply to her. Most definitely not within Diana, and most definitely not between her leee-heeeeg- ‘damn you, Akko’.

“Why would you not come for me?”

‘Which ‘come’ might we be discussing here’, Diana wonders.

“I… I didn’t know… my apologies.” Diana stutters out, distracted by the hand touching the inside of her thigh.

“Even when I made it so obvious?” Akko pouts, biting Diana’s shoulder angrily as her hands make quick work of the taller witch’s buttoned shirt. Those same hands splay against her collarbone and shoulders, caressing and teasing, moving to the back of her head to massage her scalp. The Head of Cavendish gets pulled into a long kiss, her significant other’s tongue pleading entrance as it licks along Diana’s full lips, thighs squeezing Diana’s legs.

Diana permits, giving the appendage access to explore her mouth completely, sometimes brushing against her gums, and gliding along her teeth, entangling with her own tongue. Akko pulls away with a rough nip on Diana’s lower lip.

The latter’s hand is held captive, guided somewhere along her lover’s body.

The heiress fails at hindering any sounds from escaping her as she feels hot liquid drip onto her fingers, before pooling into her open palm. So that’s where Akko had brought it.

“Diana.”

Her eyes are bewitching. Fitting of her occupation. They hold Diana’s gaze a prisoner, not against her will. They compel her to do something. Akko rubs against her once more, and Diana whimpers aloud.

“Diana.”

Arms tighten their loop against Diana’s neck. Akko’s voice still sounds calm and controlled, but her actions tell Diana that she is anything but. She’s basically riding her at this point.

“Diana.”

“Y-yesh?!” Hooded, dark, tempting. Akko’s eyes were all those things. And maybe Diana’s were too.

“Diana.”

“Yes…?” Diana feels a switch flip as her finger slips into that wet, heated space and makes Akko cry a lovely tone. She goes deaf to the world, all her focus on the woman shivering delightfully in her arms.

  “Diana…”

  “Yes…”

  “Dance with me.”

A/N: So… sequel?

~Shintori Khazumi

[pink-peony-princess]

Deliverance| S.M Werewolf AU

Part One🐺

The woods had always been a place of comfort for me. A place to escape the madness of my life- of serenity. of course I'd heard the stories of vicious wolves who roamed the darkness waiting to prey on the innocent,but I always put it down to stories, gossip, folklore designed to stop kids from venturing too far. That was until the day I was taken.

A rogue pack had taken me as their personal toy, all the anger and frustration they felt was taken out on me. It was a good day if I got a bit of stale bread, and only one beating. On bad days there would be no food and constant, torturous abuse.

I had endured it for 13 year, my small body the reflection of years of malnutrition and hurt, but I'd finally escaped.

I had bid my time, waiting till they made an inevitable error, and it had finally happend. One of the younger wolves had forgotten to check the padlock when they'd had their fun with me and I'd seized the opportunity and run as fast as I could. but I wasn't fast enough. The alarm had been sounded and there were now several wolves hot on my heels and I could run no further I had to accept my fate. He was less than a metre away from me when our of nowhere another wolf - russet in colour intercepted him in mid air, knocking him over with the force of an elephant. I could hear the snarling and snapping of jaws as I finally collapsed and

surrendered, the last thing I remember was a tall young man walking towards me .

When I woke it was to a mass of activity.

I drifted in and out of sleep, hearing people talking.feeling hands on me, there was even something about the alpha wanting to see 'her', and a 'mate' and something else about ' killing the pack that did this'. What that meant I couldn't know in my delirium.

When I managed to finally open my eyes and get past the blindly bright light above me, I was met with the image of a man-pacing back land forth, muttering to himself. And the more immediate threat of someone fiddling with the sheet that lay over me.

Surely with a man this good looking, this close to me it had to be a dream, I tried to convince myself, but someone shattered the dream almost as soon as is materialised.

"Well hello sweetheart, I'm glad to see you're finally awake," the voice came from that of and older woman with long greying hair braided out of her face "My name's Judy, I'm your nurse," she smiled down at me. "Are you in any pain?" She asked.

I took a moment to take everything in, but I was still unable to make sense of it all.

"Where am I?" I asked, trying to sit up, but everything protested as soon as I moved, even muscles I didn't know I had.

"Just stay still for now dear, you don't want to hurt yourself further," the nurse-Judy spoke kindly, helping me to resettle myself.

Something, maybe me speaking seemed to wake the man from his trance like state and he turned to meet my confused gaze.

He was tall, he had to be at least 6 foot, with sliflghtly tanned skin, the most rich brown eyes I'd ever seen, and hair that was neatly cut, except for a few unruly curls at the front of his head which didn't want to co-operate with the hair gel he'd obviously used to style it.

"Oh,oh thank God." the man rushed over to the side of the bed stopping mere inches from my face.

I could feel my heart rate picking up as panic set in, not used to people (let alone males) being this close without hurting me.

I turned to Judy asking desperately with my eyes for help

She must have got the memo because she cleared her throat and spoke.

She seemed somewhat hesitant though "Alpha, I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, I know you must be worried sick as we all are, however would it not be prudent to give the girl some space?"

The man searched my face for a moment, before straightening and stepping backwards.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he muttered guiltily.

"You didn't," I lied before I could think about it.

"My name's Shawn what's yours?" he asked holding his hand out for me to take.

I kept my mouth shut, years of torture telling me to keep quiet. He dropped his extended up so it was back at his side.

"Alrighty then, when you're ready. I won't push you." He spoke, it seemed as though he was trying deliberately to keep his tone, soft, conversational and I appreciated it.

At that moment the doctor walked in. "It's good to see you awake Miss," he spoke echoing Judy's words.

"I'm sorry to say you're quite banged up." Shawn started pacing again at his words.

"

I would have sworn I heard a growl.

"Shawn you have to stay calm," Judy spoke, it sounded almost as if she was trying to comfort him, confusing me further.

Once the doctor left Shawn calmed down, having dragging a chair from outside my room to sit beside my bed.

"I heard something about killing another pack?" I asked weighing my words cafefully. "So are you all wolves too?"

"Yes, honey, but I promise you're safe here," he replied softly, looking over at me. I looked down again, not able to take the human interaction.

"Everytime I look at you, you look down. Why is that?"he asked, sounding sad.

" I didn't mean to upset you," I panicked.Starting to pick at the I.V in my arm, it was something I always did when I was nervous, picking things, my skin, nails whatever seemed to help.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that, I'm not mad," he cut me off. "I just mean I've noticed it is all," he lay a hand carefully on my arm and surprisingly the contact helped.

"I don't know," I pondered, distracted by his touch. There was a weird, warm feeling flowing from the point of contact straight up to my chest, not dissimilar to when your hands or feet go numb and then start to respond again. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange. "I guess, I'm not used to positive human contact," I admitted, looking up to see him shaking his head.

"Are you the Alpha?" I asked suddenly. He looked at me, surprise washing over his face at the boldness of my question.

"Yes, I am," he spoke proudly. "Of the Shadowmoon Pack, greatest pack in all of Canada if you ask me," he smiled.

I liked the way he was so confident. It made me feel safe and secure. A few more hours past with us sitting in a comfortable silence, I couldn't help but feel safe around him, and as foreign as the feeling was, I also craved it.

"Are you ready to go home now Poppet?" Judy ssekd, making her way into my room again sometime later and starting to mess around with the I.V tubing.

I looked at her panicked.

"Home?" I squeeked. Surely they weren't really going to send me home. It wasn't a home where I'd come from it was a hell, my own personal hell and I'd be damned if I was going back.

Shawn seemed to noticed my emotions and stepped forward, slowly holding his arms out, and instead of backing away as I had done earlier,I surprised us both and stepped into his hold.

He was warm and comfortable, our bodies seemed to fit perfectly,denim of his jacket just scratchy enough and the now semi familiar tingling from our contact pleasant enough to ground me somewhat. I stayed like that for a minute or so before I became a little more aware of what I was doing. I was hugging a near stranger,worse he was a male, worse again Ii was actually lettung myself like it.

Sorry, I blushed, stepoing away quicky and looking down.

"You don't need to apologise," he smiled.

"What was the tingling I felt" I asked wanting to change the subject.

"That is what you get when two mates make contact" He smiled wider than I had ever seen a person smile, his fangs being exposed in the process.

I stood, silently, shocked.

"Are you okay" He asked moving to step towards me, I held a hand up and he halted midstride.

"I promise you. We'll take things slowly, right now I just want to get you home- to our home," he amended when he saw the look of panic in my face. "So you can rest."

I nodded. Still not entirely comfortable, but what other choice did I have? Go back to the pack that had tortured me all these years, or even end up homeless on the street? And from everything I'd seen Shawn seemed like a genuinely nice person, who everyone respected. Plus,if he was telling the truth, which from heat I could tell, he was, he was my mate and from all the stories I'd heard as a child, your mate was meant to be the one person in the world who would do anything for you, be anywhere for you. They would literally protect you with their lives.

"Shawn I don't have anything to wear," I whispered embarrassed again, looking down at the gown which barely covered anything as Judy finally finished what she was doing in the corner of he room having taken out my I.V. and left.

"I brought you some clothes, don't worry," he smiled.Pullnig out the most comfortable pale pink sweater I'd ever seen, he handed it to me and I was hit with his scent.

"This is yours?"

",Is that okay?" he worried. " I could go home and get something from one of the girls if you're uncomfortable," he offered.

I just smiled,letting out a little giggle at the extreme level of concern he was showing, which caused him to immediately relax l, shoulders dropping, a slight smile gracing his lips as he shook his head softly.

"Can you turn around please?" I requested. He did as asked giving the privacy I so desperately craved.

When I was finished he took my hand, holding his other under my elbow to support my weight.

He was so patient, never rushing me as he lead me through the hospital and out the doors into the world. I couldn't help but savour the fresh air,the cold winter air burning my lungs but in a good way.

"I bet it feels nice to be outside again,"

I nodded, "How did you find me" I asked, as we continued to walk. It was as if now that I was free my mind could finally ask questions and process all the stuff I had never done previously.

"That's a story for when you've had some more rest," he answered, coming to a stop in front of a Jeep, opening the door and lifting me in. The tingling was still a shock,l everytime he touched my skin.

"Feel free to sleep we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us" he smiled reassuringly, before turning the ignition,the car coming to life.

I woke to someone shaking me,it was dark now and I immediately jumped back in my seat, unsure, before my groggy eyes made contact with Shawn's and I realised where I was and relaxed.

"I won't hurt you, you're safe now Pup," he murmured, moving to brush some hair out of my face with a feather-light touch. I blushed at the nickname."I was just waking you because we're here, this is home" I took in the house illuminated by lights in complete awe.

"So you're an Alpha and you don't hurt humans?" I asked as he helped me cafefully from he car.

"You're not human, you're an omega, but no I have nothing against humans," he added, holding me steady as I swayed on my feet slightly, not used to standing anymore.

I stood stunned again," I know it's a lot to take in, but we'll get to all of that, for now though, you need rest.

We made our way through the house in silence, I could hear other voices, yet we never came across anyone.

"This is my room," he spoke, shifting his grip on me slightly to open the door.

The room was large with huge french doors leading out to a balcony overlooking a big yard and a lake, soft- what looked like silk curtains framing the windows, a guitar sat in one corner a futon in the other. There was a record player in the corner, playing a soft melody which filled the space, creating a warm inviting feeling. In the centre of the room was the biggest bed I had ever seen.

It had several large cushions on it and a duvet cover that looked like it would feel like laying on clouds. Just this bed was bigger than he cell I'd been forced to spend so many years in,I thought with a shudder.

"This is your room?I stumbled over my words.

"Well I'm hoping it will be our room actually." Shawn spoke, scratching at his neck.

I turned panicked. "But only when you're comfortable I'm not about to force you into anything I promise."

He held his pinkie finger out, and I just looked at it unsure of what he wanted.

"Here," he smiled, taking my hand and locking my own little finger with his. "This is called a pinkie promise. It's like a pact that you don't break," he explained with a smile.

"Oh,I guess, I must have forgotten." I felt extremely stupid and shit up quickly, the only sound that of the record player still in the corner. I found it so comforting, my own father had had one when I was little and I could remember watching the record and needle spin for hours.

"There's a room adjacent to mine which I've had the maids freshen up, there's a comfortable bed and an ensuite with fresh towels and a toothbrush." he continued as if there wasn't just a massive awkward silence emitting solely from my lack of understanding.

He turned leading me back out and across the hallway to another door. When he opened it, I saw a room, smaller than his, but still warm and cosy, with a big bed, a window, lots of pretty lights and yet more records, this time hung in the wall.

"You didn't need to do this for me," I told him, as I took it all in.

"I wanted you to be comfortable," he shrugged.

He lead me back to his room where he sat down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and patting the spot next to him.

"How long was I out" I asked after a minute. He got what I meant immediately.

"Three days," he answered somberly.

"How are you feeling? he asked.

"Still very sore," I admitted.

"Here let me see your injuries." he reached over picking up a box of what I soon realised was full of first aid stuff.

He was extremely gentle as he tended to he cuts and scrapes that covered my shoulders, arms,and legs. He even managed to convince me to let him check my ribs. This I found uncomfortsbly and awkward once again, but he was careful not to make it any worse than it had to be and he had rewrapped them quicky and easily.

"How do you know how to do all this?" I asked quietly as he gently dabbed at a cut on my hand. "We'll I'm actually a trained doctor. When I'm not working as the Alpha, I work at the pack hospital. There all done," he announced,packing up the box and disposing of he rubbish in a small medical waste tin.

Half an hour later and I'd gotten changed, again into one of Shawn's oversized hoodies and made myself comfortable in his bed after he insisted I stay in his room incase I needed him.

"Sleep well, Pup, I'll be here if you need me."

He went to lounge on the futon, and I was left to drift to sleep, exhausted by the day's events. My sleep was fitful to satly the least, dreams bad nightmares melding to form weird and wonderful scenarios which would never make sense.

When I woke, it was to a soft knock on the door. Opening my eyes, I could see that it was still slightly light out, though dinner than it had been, probably somewhere around dusk. A girl with dark hair, dark eyes and a kind smile stepped tenntively into the room.

"My name's Karla. Im in the pack. It's nice to meet you," she added warmly. "Shawn's had to go deal with some pack matters so he asked me to come keep you company. I brought you some food. He said you might be hungry." She held out what looked like a croisant, the smell of butter instantly filling the room."I also brought a hair brush," she added. "I thought you might like to brush your hair, I know that always makes me feel better. Or I could do it?" she added again, shyly.

"Thank you."I whispered, my voice still hoarse.

The girl, Karla, came to sit on the bed. She had to be the same age as me. Maybe a year or two older.

"I hope the pack meeting doesn't go too long," she said as I started picking at my croisant. "Shawn won't want to be away from you, it's hard to be away from our mates." She looked dreamy as she spoke, leaving no question that she too had a mate.

"I'm nervous to meet everyone," I admitted with a frown, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"Aww, don't worry everyone will love you," she smiled. "We've all been waiting for ages for him to meet his mate and you're finally here." she clapped in excitement, breaking E and forcing me to smile just as Shawn came through the door with another soft knock.

"Ahhh, I see you've meet Karla," he smiled, raising his eyebrow a little bit. " I hope she's been telling you good things."

"Yep, what were you doing" I asked watching as he took his deniem jacket off- the same one from earlier and chucked it onto the futon, coming to sit next to me on the bed, careful not to invade my personal space.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked watching as I pulled the crosiant to pieces no longer interested by the food, now that I had him here.

"I'm alright," I shrugged.

He nodded, and we lapsed into yet another comfortable quiet.

It was only then that I realised Karla had left the room, she must have excused herself, seeing that she was no longer needed and didn't feel the need to encroach.The hairbrush however was still laying on the bed.

"I just want you to know," he spoke, breaking the silence after a while, "that no matter what happeneds you'll be safe here. I'll protect you with my life, it's my job both as your Alpha and as your mate," he spoke earnestly.

He was looking at me with such an intensity as he spoke that something broke inside of me, and I cracked. "Lucy," I whispered looking down and away from his gaze.

"What?" I could here the confusion in his voice.

"Lucy, my name, my name is Lucy." I spoke more clearly this time, though I still couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Lucy, that's a pretty name," he murmured. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was reaching for me, and as much as I wanted to move, my body was frozen whether in fear or anticipation I couldn't know, but the next thing I knew both his hands were cupping my face. He was so gentle, almost as if he thought I would break. I looked up at him, once again taken aback by the intensity of his stare.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you blush," he smiled, caressing my cheek.

"Please don't compliment me, I don't deserve it, I'm ugly," I repeated the words my captors had drilled into me for so many years.

"You, Lucy," he put emphasis on my name. "are anything but ugly. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, inside and out."

"How can you say that?" I replied.

"Because, I can feel it Lucy, right here," he took my hand in his and placed it over his chest where I could feel his heart beat strong and sure. "I've been waiting for you my entire life. And now that I have you, it's my job, my honour to protect you with my life," he explained fiercly.

"Thank you," I chocked out, tears welling in my eyes.Leaning into his frame just slightly despite myself and my fears.

"No pup, thank you."

[vidkid20ssimblrlair]

Episode 32: Sundown At Ashfield (Part 2)

He grabbed his backpack and placed his mask inside. He then pointed towards the cemetery front gate and we entered. We walk through rows of graves as we went deeper and deeper into the cemetery.

Some graves were covered entirely by grass and weeds while others sat tall and crooked in the dirt. He pointed to a giant weeping willow tree and there a small tent sat under it. It looked like a campsite with a little campfire, a sitting area with logs, and various gear sitting around it.

"Welcome," he beamed. "This is my home away from home, so make yourself at home."

"In a cemetery?"

"It's not that bad. It's pretty serene. Plus the dead stay dead here. No rising from the grave so far."

"Still doesn't make it any less creepy."

"Oh, don't be such a Debbie Downer. Sit down. Let's talk."

He sat down and I sat down across from him. I placed my bag beside me and watched him do the same. He lit a fire with a lighter creating a warm glow amongst the chilly gloom.

"So what happened to the fancy stick?" I scoffed. "You actually managed to impress me out there.”

"Really? It’s just something I made using junk at the junkyard. A spear. It took me forever to make” he blushed as I rolled my eyes. “I fashioned it after my favorite video game-"

"Ugh, videogames. You sound like Audrey."

"Who?"

"Nevermind.”

“Well, I left it at the front gate if you want to look at it.”

“No. I don’t.”

“Ok. Ok. Well, I bet this will put a smile on your face." He smirked and reached for his backpack. He pulled out a packet of small spongy cakes. He held it up like a trophy, ripped it open, took out one, and bit into it. He then held the packet out to me. A mouth full of cake, he offered me the other. "Twinkie?"

"No, thanks," I frowned. He seemed disappointed but continued eating. I studied his face now getting a good look. He looked to be banged up a bit. He even seemed to be sporting a shiner and bruises to go with it. Poor guy. My eyes then scan the place as he chomped down on the second cake. I felt unease. Not because of the creepy choice of setting, but for the living who might come by. "So you sure this place is secure?"

"Yep. Along as the gate is closed, they stay out. Maybe one or two might squeeze in -”

“No. I mean the living.”

“Oh. Well, not even my sister knows about this place. Also, most strangers stay clear of places like this, so we’re good."

"Are you sure? No one followed you?"

"Follow me?! No way! They don't care about me or where I go. My sister does, but only when she remembers I'm related to her," he huffed. "Besides, they sent me out on a supply run. They've been sending me out for a lot of supply runs lately. To get me out the way I guess. They probably think I'll be gone for days since they sent me on some stupid hunt for watch batteries. Jokes on them, I found them already. Ha!"

"How about Jade though?"

"What about her?"

"Well, last I left you she was knocked out on the floor thanks to your genius thinking and you were going make up some bullshit story to save your ass. What happened with that?"

"Well, she woke up. That's for sure. She was a bit confused and dizzy at the time so she brought my story. Didn't make her any less angry though. She yelled a lot. Asked me a bunch of questions and yelled some more."

"Oh. So is that who gave you that shiner?"

"The black eye," he asked touching it hesitantly. He shook his head. "No. Ace did this but it's nothing. I've had worse."

"Worse?"

"Yeah. Let's just say I don't keep medical supplies around just for kind strangers like you," he chuckled. He then sighed. "He just gets really angry and frustrated with me is all. After Jade told him my story about getting jumped, he told me I should have done something. Said I was useless. Then he punishes me...with his fist."

I shook my head. "You should leave them."

"But my-"

"Your sister. Yeah, I know, but it's not fair to you. Does she even try to stop it? Does she do anything?"

"She tries to talk him down and she has kept him from killing me so far."

"That's fucked up."

"I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about me," he smirked. He fidgeted a bit and threw his twinkie wrapper to the side. He then grabbed another one. "You sure don't want one? Here take one."

He handed it to me, but I had no interest in cake or food at the moment. I placed it on top of my bag beside me. I looked up at him and his mouth was already full of cake. I groaned. "Enough with the twinkies!"

"You don't like them?"

"They’re fine, but I didn't come here to stuff my face, kid. I came here-"

"For Gemma."

"Bingo. You know her?"

"Yeah. Redhead, right? Tall, pale, insane."

"Yeah. Exactly. Definitely nuts. She part of your crew, right?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately," he mumbled. He tensed up and look downward. "When you said Gemma, I thought the name sound familiar. I wasn't entirely sure. Then it came back to me. You're talking about Big Red."

"Who?"

"Big Red. Her codename is Red Devil, but everybody calls her Big Red. Have you come across her or something?"

"Have I come across her? She's in my house right now. Well, where me and my friends are staying at least. She just showed up one day-"

"Wait! You said she's at your house?" he gasped. "Oh, God. Are you serious?"

"Yeah. She's tied up in our kitchen now-"

"That doesn't matter. You're like in serious danger," he shrilled. He then began grumbling to himself. "They never tell me anything. Shit. Of all the things to not to tell me..."

"Hey! Hey!" I snarled. I snapped my fingers in his face. "Talk to me. What's up?"

He came back to attention. His eyes wide and the color draining from his face. "Has anyone died since she's been there?"

"Meh. No. Not really. We had an old lady named Grace die, but that was before she came and the corpses killed her."

"Well, you're lucky. That's a damn miracle. You see Red takes pleasure in killing. She kills people. She likes toying with them first and then she lets them turn. Sometimes she lets them turn and watches them devour loved ones. She thinks it's funny. She's a psychopath and Ace loves her for it. She’s like his little pet," he said. "He sends her in when he wants a bloodbath, so I don't get it. You should be dead by now."

"Well, we're not and she's tied up. Maybe we got the better of her."

"Of her. Ha! If she wants to kill you... if she wants to get free, she will. She knows how to manipulate people to get what she wants. Trust me. She won't stay tied up for long," he warned. "Hmm...the only reason you're still alive because Ace had to order her not to. That's the only thing that makes sense."

"Why would Ace order her not to? Is that his usual thing?"

"No. Not at all. He takes pleasure in sick shit like Red, but he's a lot more tamer about it I guess. Still strange. At less...," he pondered. He then gasped. "At less, he needs you alive."

I scoffed. "For what?"

"I don't know. It's the only explanation I got though."

"You're hopeless. Do they really not tell you anything?" I sighed. "What about the Ace? What's his deal?"

"Ace aka Johnathan? He's just a power-hungry asshole who takes his jollies on preying on the weak and stealing from them. Who needs to find supplies or food when you can make someone else do it for you," he scowled. "But he didn't start off like that. He was a jerk but he was fairly normal when we met him. Part of me pities him."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like you, he had a daughter, but he lost her doing this. It broke him. The way she died and everything. It truly broke him."

I started to ask how she died but part of me was afraid. People dying in this mess was enough to mess with your head, but losing a child...that was something else. I thought back to the zombified little girl and I got chills. I then thought of my daughter. Was Mya alive?

Both of us then froze as we heard something. It sounded like it was right behind me. The crinkling of paper? I quickly stood up and look back. A hand was reaching out from behind a gravestone and bushes. It had managed to pull my bag closer to them and its fingers felt around on top of my bag. It grabbed the Twinkies and I grabbed its wrist. It was no way it was a corpse. I pulled out my gun and pulled the intruder towards me. I gasped.

"Audrey?!"

"What? You're weren't eating them and I got hungry," she whined. I let her go and she grab the spongy cakes. "You don't want it right?"

Part 1

Audrey gets those Twinkies in Part 3.

P.S. I wish someone would make a normal looking wooden spear and Twinkies is a nod to Zombieland. xD

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

omg just read your teacher au ahhhhh. Love it smsmsmsm. Any chance if a sequel because omfg I love you're writing and will take anything ahah. If not no biggie. But omg love your writing a lot ahhh. Sorry if this is a lot but wowowow.

Hello Anon! SO SO SO glad you enjoyed it! They are just the blushiest, most clueless losers aren’t they?

Also me whenever anyone says they like my writing:

THANK YOU DARLING!!!!!!!!

And i am but your humble servant so here is a continuation of the first part. This really was supposed to be a quick drabble and it ended up being 1,5K+ words but no-one is surprised at this point :/ ;)

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------

The week passed by in a blur of classes, coffee, and contemplation over a certain black-haired, green-eyed professor. Jason was becoming fed up with how much he thought about the marine biologist, but everything reminded him of Percy Jackson.

Just yesterday he had passed by a little kid with a dolphin backpack and his first thought was Percy probably knows what species that is. It was such a bizarre and unexciting thought he almost knocked his own teeth in. Now it was Friday: the day he would be surrounded by Percy and everything marine related. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive.

With a deep, calming breathe he hopped out the car and headed towards the Biology and Oceanography building. 

“Jason!” A bright voice called.

He turned around, a smile already taking over his face, “Good morning Percy,”

“How are you doing? You ready for today?”

“I’m doing great thanks. Kind of excited.”

Green eyes twinkled, “Well that’s nice to hear, at least one of us is.”

Before he could ask what that meant Percy shoved a cup into his hand, “I got us coffee. Figured we’d need the energy if we’re going to be chaperones for a bunch of over-excited sea creatures.” He winked.

Jason laughed, “Are they a handful?”

“Nah,” Percy chuckled, “They’re just excited for this because we haven’t been able to go for two years.”

“Good morning Prof!” An energetic yell from a dark-skinned, bouncy-curled girl echoed behind them.

“Good morning Hazel,” Percy gave her a dazzling smile.

“Oh and good morning Dr Jason. Prof told us you’d be joining the trip.” He didn’t have the chance to return the greeting before she plunged on. “I hope you’re ready for today, Leo and Frank are bound to do something dumb and end up in a fish tank,” She rolled her eyes, “You know they always manage to break something when we’re in labs. Isn’t that right prof?” She turned to Percy who was smiling unrestrained.

“Yep, I swear those two are more chaotic than I was.”

Jason’s mind immediately conjured up a twenty-one-year-old Percy, tucked into a lab coat and goggles; a frown etched into his forehead and his tongue sticking out in concentration; black hair probably poking up in all directions, and skin bronzed from a combination of his Hispanic heritage and a well-spent summer. He had no doubt the biologist had been a sight for sore eyes even then.

“What’s got you all caught up Dr Grace?” A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head, smiling, “Sorry, not fully awake.”

“This is the very reason they invented coffee.” Percy laughed, tipping his own cup in point.

“Hello everyone,” A girl with flowers in her hair and about a dozen pins tacked to her backpack greeted.

“Hello Katie, I like the daisies.”

“Thanks Doc, they’re the easiest to pin down and I figured today was not the day for something elaborate like hibiscus or chrysanthemums. Too many petals you know?” She mused.

Jason was fast realising why Percy was so close to his students. They interacted with each other so easily and with completely unique personalities.

“I’m sure you know Dr Jason Grace,”

“Hello,” He smiled.

“Oh I most certainly know Dr Grace,” Katie grinned, giving her professor a look.

He didn’t miss the blush creeping up Percy’s cheeks.

“Where is everyone?” She frowned, turning to Hazel with a smile and a hug.

Percy checked his watch, “I don’t kn-“

A chorus of hellos, and how are you’s filled the space as students poured in.

“Guys!” Hazel squealed and rushed towards the group.

Once everyone had gathered around and gotten through their various catch-ups, they turned their attention towards their Professor.

“Right I see you’re all here so lets quickly do introductions and then we can pile on the bus. Everyone this is Dr Jason Grace, he’s a neurologist and a professor in the medical department. He will be our first-aid and a chaperone to help me handle you chaotic bunch.”

They all said good morning, exchanging glances and hushed whispers.

A curly-haired blonde grinned, “Hello Doc, how do you feel about swimming with sharks?”

Jason’s eyes widened, turning to Percy.

With a sigh the biologist gave his student a look, “Will, stop trying to get people to go shark-tank diving with you. I told you Dr Grace only has to do what he’s comfortable with.”

“Yes Prof,” The freckles on his face bunched as he smiled cheekily.

“Now let’s get going. We have a guided tour at ten and my mother said only two things are important in life. Punctuality and pancakes.”

“Yea, yea we know,” They all grumbled.

One torturous bus ride later in which Jason was only a couple inches away from Percy they arrived at the Conservation Center.

“Alright everyone, we have a tour now and then it’s free time till one. After that everyone meets up in the main exhibit so we can Feed the Fish and then we’ll make our way to the shark-tank diving for anyone who wants to do it.”

Even though Jason had no idea what was being said half the time the tour was still incredible. The way sea life interacted with one another was fascinating and some of the creatures were mind-boggling, in  looks and in activity. The best thing about the tour though, was seeing Percy and his students light up, huge, curious eyes and rapt attention plastered to the various tanks. He knew it wasn’t a regular aquarium tour because the guide and Percy got into intricate details about the anatomies and functions of corals, fish, predators vs. prey and various other topics. The students were fully attentive asking and answering questions like they knew exactly what they needed to know and how they needed to know it.

When it finished at half-eleven the group were chattering incessantly, comparing notes and discussing all sorts of ideas.

Percy’s eyes were lit up with pride and passion as he thanked the guide and turned to his class, “Alright seaweed-brains go enjoy your time. Hazel, Leo and Katie please set alarms to be back here by one.”

“Yes Prof!” They shouted, already bounding away and into the exhibits once more.

“They will all stick together?” Jason asked, wondering why only three of them had to set alarms.

“Yea, they do everything together. I’ve caught them messing around in the library or all grabbing coffee at the café a number of times. I don’t know what it is about this group but they really like each other.”

“And you are very fond of them,” He observed, looking straight into those glowing green eyes.

“Yea, they’re complete chaos but they’re good people and they’re really passionate about my subject. It’s hard not to like them.”

“I’m sure with a professor like you it’s not hard to have passion about anything. I’m sure you’d make rocks interesting.”

“Actually,” Percy lit up, “Rocks are really interesting. There’s so many different types and they all have different functions. Also it’s fascinating to understand why some rocks look this way and others developed that way and-“ He cut himself off, blushing profusely, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”

“I think I care more now than I did before,” Jason grinned, willing to do anything to keep that brightness in those sea-green eyes.

Percy’s cheeks turned a deep shade of ruby, “I minored in geology because there was a lot of useful information regarding formation that helped with marine biology.”

“How’d you get into marine biology anyway?”

He shrugged, “I’ve always been fascinated with the ocean. It’s a whole ecosystem living by a completely different set of rules to land-systems. How did you get into neurology?”

“A lot of head injuries as a kid,” He smirked.

Percy burst out laughing, “What?”

“Yea, I fell on my head a lot as a child and I got a concussion a few times. It fascinated me that my brain could be impacted by it. I mean falling on your leg doesn’t generally stop you from walking, A scrape, maybe some blood and tears, and a band-aid is all we think of it. But falling on your head causes much more damage and it could affect your whole body.”

“That is... dedicated,” Percy gasped, still laughing.

“I was a weird child,” His mouth twitched in amusement.

“Any other strange anecdotes that decided your future?”

“Hours’ worth of them,” He grinned, “I can tell you about the time we lived near a wolf sanctuary and my mother thought it’d be a good idea to have me interact with them. I interned there for a little while so i’m pretty good at analysing wolf injuries and anatomy.”

“I-“ Green eyes blinked in surprise.

“Can I entertain you with my peculiar childhood over dinner? Tomorrow night?” He asked, voice scratchy with nerves.

The smile that graced Percy’s face could make flowers grow, “I would love that.”

“You would?” Jason could not believe what he was hearing.

“Very, very much. And I’m glad you had the guts to ask because I’m ninety percent sure my students were going to throw you in a shark tank and make me rescue you just to get us together.”

It was Jason’s turn to dissolve into laughter. He had never been so full of the future but gods it was invigorating.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

The Rise Of Glory. || 3

Chapter One. Chapter Two.

One Way or Another.

Thursday, November 5th. 

I’m distracted by the flashbacks of a time I desire to forget, I wish Tara hadn’t brought up my leave of absence. I don't need the constant reminder or the guilt of everything. After Harry took me home that morning, everything went downhill and he never made it back to work for the meetings. Now I understand how Harry feels when he says the more he attempts to forget things of the past, the more they follow and strike him down every minute they can. I wish I could go back to simpler times, but unfortunately, there have never been simple times with Harry and I. There has always been something, and I’m starting to think there will always be something to set fire to our lives. 

“Elle, board meeting in ten,” Harry informs me as he steps into my office. 

I look up at him and raise a brow, unsure of why a sudden board meeting is taking place. I just got out of the meeting regarding the mobbing downstairs and the media, what else could go wrong on this day?

“Is this about your media shit?” I immediately question, exasperated with everything. 

“Darling, I don’t know at this point, I got the text, it is mandatory for all members in NYC.” 

“It bothers me that the board knows our locations, can we not buy them out and not have a board to deal with? Why do we even have them? It is your company. They called a mandatory one a few months ago.” I respond, standing up from my desk and closing the file on my desk.

“When I started, I still had to have aboard, I was a small company, I made my way up and needed independent directors who could offer financial, technical, and/or strategic advice to me,” Harry explains, taking my hand and mildly drawing me back to him. 

He smiles down at me and swiftly kisses me, “I love you. I know this is getting rough, hang in there, okay?” Harry sweetly wishes, attempting to give me some sort of reassurance. He is right to reassure me, I do need it. I can feel that things are falling apart— not that they ever managed to fall back together wholly. The moment I begin to think that things are working out or that things are getting better, something always knocks on the door and generates some sort of turmoil. I’m starting to wonder if life with Harry and I will continuously be a constant battle of demons and predicaments. 

The last few years have been a rollercoaster, to say the least, and I never imagined my life would turn out to be the way it is. I imagined things would be simple and less dramatic, but I was proven wrong. I am not sure when things first started to go wrong; I would love to blame it all on Harry, and blame our meeting, but to be honest, we were perfect together, things didn’t start turning to shit until shortly after we got engaged. That was when his life began taking a turn for the worst with skeletons in the closet wandering out on us. 

I take a breath and nod, “I am trying,” I respond. 

I am, I am trying; I am doing my best to hang in there and not snap, I am trying not to break down and let everything get to me. I am doing my best to get through everything and to hold myself together with grace. 

Harry and I walk out of my office, our fingers intertwined as we march down the hallway towards where the meeting will be held. 

Harry opens the door and permits me to enter first, being a gentleman but in all honesty, it feels like he’s feeding me to the sharks first. I glance around and notice the women on the board are missing, there are just five men. For an emergency board meeting, it’s unusual that the entire board isn’t here. 

I side-eye Harry, requiring answers as to where everyone is, he’s on the executive committee, he has a high rank and should know things. I don’t like the feeling this meeting is giving me, something isn’t right. The room feels stiff and rigid, the men stare at me like I am their weak prey that they are ready to pounce on. For a moment, my breath hitches in my throat as I feel intimidated by the men in the room. After all this time, I still despise when men’s eyes stare at me with their expressionless faces. I know it is just a tactic to show dominance, but sometimes it makes me want to run out of the room and never turn back. 

“With everyone here, take a seat and we can get started,” one man begins with his chest out and his ego flared to the max— this feels like it’s about to be a pissing contest. 

I sit down beside Harry and take note of the fact Niall also isn’t here, another high member of the board. The other women aren’t here, and they are at ALL board meetings,  no matter where they are. I have never been the only woman to sit at a meeting. 

I desire to protest starting without everyone else here, but there is no point, I don’t have enough time as one of the men commences to speak.

At first, they gradually work their way into the financial aspects of the business, discussing how Harry has picked the business up and boosted it dramatically in the last year. After his downfall, he has succeeded in raising the business in all aspects. 

Without much warning, I become the matter of a subject, a great reach from the finances. I raise a brow as we are told about the few things that I have allegedly done wrong.

I stare blankly at the men in front of me, unsure of where they get off expressing their disappointment and dissatisfaction of myself. For the most part, I believed Harry was the one I required to impress and respond to, apparently it’s the board too. Up until now, there has been no issue with my performance or my ethics. Harry has never said a word and he’d be the first one to call me out for any wrongdoing. 

“So you’re wanting to vote me off the board because of some company policy I broke… you do realise we own the company, right? I didn’t break policy.” I pause for a moment, observing the men intently, and as one goes to speak, I shake my head and begin again, “You need to have proof of this ridiculous allegation.” 

I am not sure what they are basing their information off of, and I am not sure who the fuck they think they are telling me I need to step down from a business that is owned by Harry.

“We suggest you resign without us taking things further.” 

I’m quick to rebuttal and defend myself, ���I have done nothing wrong, you can’t kick me off the board.” 

“You can be removed by a two-thirds vote of the board at the next board meeting.”

I glance over at Harry and he’s shaking his head with his arms crossed over his chest. “No, you’re not kicking her off the board.” 

“You don’t have a vote in this, Harry. We understand she’s your wife—“ 

Harry swiftly cuts the man off, “No, this isn’t about her being my wife, it’s about the fact you have no grounds for this bullshit, and that is what it is—, bullshit.” Harry leans forward and presses his elbows on the table, “I won’t stand for this.” 

“Well, there is nothing you can do, you have no say in this. It is the board's decision.” 

Harry shakes his head, “I am the owner, I am the CEO, my wife stays.” 

“We will see what the board has to say.” 

“I am the bloody bored,” Harry responds with a heavy sigh, “Why, why must you insist on fucking things up for me?” Harry mutters unhappily. 

“Harry—” 

The man begins to speak, but Harry cuts him off swiftly, “I don’t want to hear it, Elise, let’s go, this meeting is over,” Harry pushes away from the desk and stands to his feet, his hands moving to his suit jacket and adjusting it. 

I stand to my feet and push the seat under the large desk, glaring at the men before I walk out of the room. Heavy on my heels, I march my way towards Harry’s office, wasting no time with stepping inside it and closing the blinds while Harry closes the door behind us. 

Harry works his fingers through his hair and sighs, “Elle—” 

“No,” I shake my head, “I’ve about had it with your business dictating every-fucking-thing. Harry, fix this.”

“Elise, I can’t. My hands are tied, I can’t fix this.” 

“You need to find a way.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Elise. I literally have no say in this.” 

I grow quiet and compose myself, deciding there is no need to lose my mind over his business and the board that controls us, instead, I shift my hair behind my ear and step closer to Harry, “I have a meeting, I love you, but this business might be the death of me,” I half-smile, leaning up and kissing his cheek. 

I proceed to step towards the door but Harry gently wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling me back to him, “We don’t do half-assed kisses in my office,” Harry grins, kissing me pleasantly, “I love you, too,” Harry whispers, “I will think of something, I have a conference call,” Harry kisses me again before putting distance between us. 

I nod my head and softly smile before we step out of each other’s way, he moves to his desk and I exit his office. 

The moment I step out of Harry’s office, I make contact with Anastasia waving me down. 

Damnit. 

I love her, do not get me wrong, but I know that wave and it is never satisfying. It is one of those waves where she wants to discreetly get my attention but doesn’t want to cause anyone to panic even though part of her is panicking. 

“Elise, there’s a client here who is demanding to speak to Mr Styles but I was specifically instructed not to bother him this afternoon,” Anastasia informs me, “And he seems pissed, Niall is in a meeting so you’re the only one I can bother, what do I do?” she challenges, appearing frazzled and under stress. 

I have to admit, Anastasia handles more shit than she signed up for and far more than her job description says. 

I give her a weak smile, “I’ll handle it in a minute. By any chance can I convince you to stay and work here with me?” 

Anastasia shakes her head with a small chuckle, “I fly back with Niall tomorrow once he and Charles are done. I don't like it here, I'm sorry.” She responds, and I can’t blame her for wanting to be in London. I also don't blame her for disliking it here, the company doesn't operate the way it does in London, everything is still out of order and will take some time to get in line. It is a whole other ball game here in New York, the people are different and so is their work ethic.  

Today feels as though it has been a shit show from hell and it isn't even eleven yet. I wander into the conference room where Anastasia politely held a client for me, and as I peer into the glass window, I frown for a moment, unsure of why my client is sitting in a conference room, pissed off and demanding Harry. 

I push open the door and smile towards Mr Cohan, “Mr Cohan,” I extend a hand but he sneers and crosses his arms over his chest like a prick. 

This isn’t the man I first met months ago. Cohan was polite and very pleasant when I first met him, and the few meetings afterwards he was just as content, but today, today I am observing a whole other side to him.

“Where’s Mr Styles?” He is rude and straight to the point with his question.   

“He’s busy right now, what is the issue I can help you with?” I ask with the kindest tone of voice I can possibly use right now. I  am unsure of what could have possibly pissed him off. Niall has handled his file while I’ve been gone and I know Niall is damn good at his job. 

Mr Cohan shakes his head, “Why have you not been in charge of my file? I specifically asked for you.” This feels like an interrogation and one that is breaching my privacy. I owe him no explanation for my absence. 

“I have been on leave and Mr Horan took over for me,” I respond. 

It isn't rare for files to sometimes be passed around and handled by multiple people, most clients prefer to have various sets of eyes and to have a team with their portfolio. 

Apparently, this man solely wanted my set of eyes, for what reason, I do not know. I am not the most beneficial asset at this company. To be quite honest, Harry and Niall are the top performers and the ones I would want in charge of my portfolio, not me. 

Niall and Harry are known to catch things before I do, they have been in the game a lot longer than I. I was more so launched into it and forced to learn things promptly. I was fortunate, some would say, I didn't necessarily have to work my way up the ladder in the company, I was given a position that Harry saw fit and here I am, standing in front of a prick who has his knickers in a twist because I wasn't the only one in charge. 

“That isn’t good enough, this was your job to handle. It wasn’t for you to pass off to whom you deemed fit. It is like you did bugger all but you reap the benefits.” 

I take a moment to process what he is saying, doing my best to attempt to see things from his point of view, even if his view is one that is up his ass. “I’m sorry you feel that way, I can assure you I reap no benefits from this,” I assure the man, frustrated that he has shifted from a decent guy to a self-absorbed man and a prick.

“You being on leave is no excuse, personal leave is not acceptable to pass off your job to someone else. I’m disappointed and I want to be compensated.” He is demanding and doing his best to intimidate me to get what he wants. 

I am not sure what he wants to be compensated for, he has had no loss to his assets, if anything, he owes us for keeping his funds on track. 

“Mr Cohan—“ I begin but he cuts me off and continues to go off on a tangent, ranting and raving about my in capabilities to adequately do my job. 

“Get me Mr Styles, I’ll be sure to take this further and make sure you’re fired, this is unacceptable.” He insists, still being a raging jerk for no reason. 

There is no reasoning with this man, he is set in his ways. 

I take a breath and smile at the man who’s making a fool of himself, me being fired would be the highlight of my day at this point, I have had enough of everything. “I’ll get him for you,” I respond, doing my best to keep my cool as I march out of the conference room. 

I march into Harry’s office, having no care that he is on a call. He glances up at me and he gives me the sort of scowl he gives his employers when they need to get out of his office. 

He’s seemingly in a god awful mood, but right now, I don't give a damn. 

He leans forward and places his elbow on his desk, beginning to rub his temples in frustration as he listens to the person on the other end of the call. 

Harry scribbles down a few things on a notepad, "I will get back to you with figures and email you the documentation before we negotiate and sign." Harry notifies whoever is on the other end of the phone. The two say their prompt goodbyes and Harry hangs up the phone.

Harry gazes towards me, seemingly annoyed that I am still standing here needing his presence. “What do you need? I have an international call in twenty,” Harry questions tiredly and without any enthusiasm. His voice is laced with nothing but aggravation. I don’t blame him, I don’t think he has had much sleep in the last few days and today has been a shit show of a day from the moment we woke up to a fussy Alex.

I throw Mr Cohan's file onto his desk, “Your client is a fucking asshole, you’re now in charge of his portfolio,” I bitterly comment.

Harry leans forward and pushes the file back towards me, “I don’t have the time for another portfolio to manage, you need to take care of it.”

“No,” I respond, “I’m not going back into that conference to bend over backwards for the prick. Either you take him or we lose the client.”

Harry drives his fingers through his hair and heavily groans, “What did he do?” 

I shake my head, not wanting to explain things to him. There is a throbbing ache in my throat that is quite the indication that I am ready to break down and cry. “Jus’ please take him.”

“Elise, if you don’t fucking tell me—,” Harry begins, but I cut him off.

“What? You’ll fire me? Don’t worry, your client has made it known he is going to do his best to get me fired, and at this point, if you want to fire me, please do, I’m fucking tired of this anyway.” I mutter. 

“My only fifteen-minute break and I am dealing with bullshit… what else was said?” 

“Just that after months of me not being in the meetings that I am no longer in charge, and ‘personal reasons’ isn’t enough justification for not overseeing everything.” … “Oh, and he will be speaking to the CEO about my lack of showing up to work because, in his words, he signed up for me to oversee everything, not for Niall. The asshole wants compensation." I inform Harry, noticing how he is far from amused by things. 

Harry stands up from his chair and clasps the file in his hand tightly, shaking his head disapprovingly, “Come with me,” he mutters, not giving me a chance to refuse as he marches past me swiftly. I follow after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides and fast pace. 

Harry opens the door to the conference room and gestures for me to enter before he steps in and closes the door. The client turns around from staring at the appearance of the city and he instantly puts his hand out to shake Harry’s. 

“I see there is a problem,” Harry states, not bothering to introduce himself or to be polite with a hello. I can only assume he is showing his position and dominance. 

The man nods, “I have heard highly of your business and her uncle’s, I expected a lot more out of a Cartier.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “I don’t understand what the problem is, your portfolio is managed and balanced, your meetings have been on schedule. The only problem I see here is that the withdrawal you wish to make is large, so you might want to split it up over multiple years to bump you into a higher tax bracket, which I’m sure Elise planned to discuss in today’s meeting.” Harry informs the client, reading the first page of the file in his hand. “I see here Niall has everything in order and up to date.” 

Cohan nods, “I gave the file for Ms Cartier to handle, not to pass around to whomever she deemed fit. She has not been to one meeting in the last few months.” 

“She was on leave.” Harry bluntly informs Cohan. 

It is nobody’s business why I was on leave and it is nobody’s business to even know that I was on personal leave. My personal life is just that— my personal life. 

“That’s not suitable,” Mr Cohan shakes his head, “She hasn’t been in charge like requested and she should not be working on the portfolio now. This is not how it works, she should be fired.” 

Harry closes the file and places it on the table, “You are aware you’re talking about my wife, correct? Mrs Styles, not Ms Cartier. I suggest you take your file and walk out of this building. She was on leave and doesn’t owe you an explanation.” Harry stays firm with his tone of voice. 

“Is this how you treat all clients?” 

“Just ones that disrespect my employees and my wife. You’re no longer welcome here.” 

“You’re making a big mistake, this is a lot of money you’re losing out on.” 

Harry shrugs his shoulders, “Don’t need the money. If you’re not apologising to my wife, respectfully, get out,” Harry gestures towards the door.

Cohan shakes his head, "I demand compensation for this," Cohan demands, causing tension to rise further within the room. 

Harry doesn't say a word, instead, he reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out his chequebook, he scribbles along the lines, signs the check and gives it to Cohan, "Don't step foot again into my building," Harry narrows his eyes on the man, standing his ground until Cohan takes the check and places it in his pocket. Harry stares Cohan down until he steps out of the conference room and can no longer be seen. 

Harry heavily sighs and closes the door as my ex-client leaves. 

"Did you pay him off?" I ask Harry, stunned that he did such a thing, I have never seen him pay off clients, I don't even think it is ethical, surely he can get himself in some shit for it.

Harry shrugs, "What you don't know won't hurt you."

"Harry, do you just pay off everyone?" 

"Elle, if I had to pay off everyone who got pissed at us, I would be fucking broke, leave it alone, he won't be asking questions about your leave." 

“Harry,” I begin, but I pause for a moment. 

I want to open up and express my frustration, my anger and everything else that I am feeling, but I don’t know... how. “I quit,” I adamantly inform him, crossing my arms over my chest. 

Harry raises a brow and wearily sighs, “Oh, really?” 

“Yes, I am done,” I respond.  

I’m done. I’m done with the board, I’m done with the business, and I’m done with asshole clients. I’m done with everything. 

“Okay, when you hand in your resignation, we can discuss this further.” 

I shake my head, “This is my resignation.” 

Harry shakes his head with a small chuckle, not entirely taking me seriously. “No, company policy, resignations must be written and signed, placed on my desk and formally spoken about.” 

“Are you seriously going to be an asshole and make me write it out?” 

“Yes, darling, everyone else has to.”

“Everyone else also has to put in their leave and request sick days.” I point out the fact that he’s currently picking and choosing which rules he wants to abide by. 

“Well, next time you want time off, put in a request and I will get back to you within two to three business days.” 

“I am serious, Harry, I quit.” 

“Mhm,” Harry hums, “We can discuss this at a more convenient time, right now, we have other issues.” 

“When do we not have other issues, our life is full of issues. We have more fucking issues than vogue, and yes, I got that off of social media.”

“Elise,” Harry sighs, “Can we stop being emotional and dramatic for a minute and discuss the bigger matter at hand?” 

“Which is?” I question.

“The media are setting up camp, he’s going to go straight to the media… there’s a red-eye to London, I need you away from the media,” Harry informs me, his fingers spreading through his hair. 

“Are you telling me to go back by myself?” 

“No.” Harry shakes his head, “I’m coming with you, it’s best if we are home instead.” 

“What about the work here?” I question, unaware of how everything’s going to work if we suddenly drop everything and go back to London. 

“I’ll fly out every two weeks if I have to, I’ll do what it takes, right now it’s best we stay low key and away from New York where the news of everything is breaking.” 

“Harry, running won’t solve it.” 

This is what Harry does best, he runs, it is a constant recurrence. 

At any given chance he has, he takes the easy way out and tries to run. By now, you’d think he would know that running has NEVER solved his or our problems, it has always made things worse. 

“Elise, please,” Harry groans, “Look, I’m doing my best here, you want to be in London anyway, it’s the safest thing right now. The media will be everywhere but at least I know our house is gated off and you and Alex will be safe. Don’t fight me on this, we need to get on the red-eye.” 

“Okay.” 

“Another article was released,” Harry sighs, “I’m going to find out who is doing this.” 

“Harry, stay out of it and let Tara do her job.” 

Harry shakes his head, “I want an investigation to happen.” 

“Okay… when did you become the biggest CEO?” I question, forgetting to have asked earlier when Tara brought it up at the small meeting. 

“When you were burying yourself in paperwork,” Harry responds with a slight bitterness to his tone of voice. “If you’d stop distracting yourself from life, you’d know things.” 

I stare over at him, not amused by his comments, “I’m not feeding into this argument,” I begin, “But can you make sure the media isn’t at our house when we land? I’d appreciate some privacy.” 

Harry rolls his eyes at me, “Just be ready to fly home… Without the sass, please.” … “Come here,” Harry gestures as he leans on his desk, “Come, love,” he opens his arms towards me and I step closer to him, allowing his fingers to intertwine with mine. 

Harry tenderly lures me in between his legs, his loam grey eyes peering up at me, “I know this is hard, I know you signed up for none of this, fuck, I didn’t even sign up for this, but I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to run a business and keep everyone happy, I’m trying to keep it all afloat. As successful as this business is, I feel like I’m failing because I know you’re not happy… Darling, whatever you want, I’ll do. We can close the business for a bit, I can have someone else fill in my position, baby, you tell me what to do.” 

I stare at Harry, unsure of what to say. 

I don’t expect him to take a step back from his business when it’s at the best place it has been in years, he’s one of the best CEO’s out there, he can’t just leave the spotlight now. Not to mention, this is not the first time he has offered to step away from the business, part of me feels as though it is an empty promise. 

I take a breath and shake my head, “You can’t leave the business or take time off.” 

“I can,” Harry nods, “I’ll do what needs to be done for you, for us. I promised to put our family before the business.” 

“I’d like to take a step back from it all…. Maybe be in the office just a few days a week? Work remotely from home or go back to working only at Meyer Enterprise, focusing on that? It runs mostly by itself with my staff, but I don’t know… it would be nice to be at home with Alex more again…” I trail off, unsure of what it is I want. “Is it selfish of me to want to be at home?” 

Harry smiles at me and shakes his head, “No, sweetheart, it isn’t selfish. If that’s what you want, we can make it happen. A few hours a week in the office and the rest at home with Alex. Or you can go back to Meyer Enterprise.” 

“A few hours a week would be nice.” 

“Done,” Harry nods, “Whatever you decide. I will support you. You can decide, you have a few hours on the flight to think about it.”

“Are you sure that I can step away a little bit?” 

“Absolutely, I will make it work. I am committed to making you happy and keeping our family happy and safe.” 

I look at him and raise a brow, unsure of where all of this has come from. 

He has definitely tried a lot more with the family ever since Alex was born and has progressively gotten better up until we had to move here, he slipped back to some of his old ways. Hearing him give me the option of stepping down or him stepping away takes my by surprise. 

Harry’s business is flourishing, he is highly successful and I don’t want to take that away from him. I do not want him to make the decision between me and the business. I have given him that ultimatum before while furious with him for not knowing when enough is enough and when it is time to put family first. Right before Alex was born I gave him the ultimatum; I remember that night as clear as day, I will never forget it— neither will Harry. Harry kept to his word after that night, he did do his best to not take on too much with the business, but right now, he has taken on a lot and although the business is prospering, I am not. I don’t aspire to be selfish, I don’t want to take him away from what he has worked his entire life for, but I cannot be apart of it all as much as I am. 

Sometimes I wonder how life would have been if I had of sojourned at my job before I moved to Logan’s assistant, or how my life would have been if Logan never died and I was still his assistant. 

Would things be easier? 

Would they be harder? 

Either way, that ‘What If’s’ don’t change anything. Life is what it is, I cannot change the past, I cannot bring Logan back from the dead, and I can’t change the fact that sometimes life is a roller coaster that I don’t want to ride. Unfortunately, we have to do things in life that we don’t want to, sometimes we have to take a breath and move forward with life, one way or another. 

One way or another, Harry and I will be okay— I will be okay— but for now, all I can do is attempt to take Harry’s support and love through these hard times. I should count myself lucky to have a man who is trying to be understanding and supportive. There was once a time where his business was his priority and I wasn’t— I would suffer the consequences. 

[pinkpeonyprincessblog]

Deliverance| A Werewolf Shawn AU

Part One

The woods had always been a place of comfort for me... A place to escape the madness of my life of serenity. of course I'd heard the stories of vicious wolves who roamed the darkness waiting to prey on the innocent,but I always put it down to stories, gossip, folklore designed to stop kids from venturing too far. That was until the day I was taken.

A rogue pack had taken me as their personal toy, all the anger and frustration they felt was taken out on me. It was a good day if I got a bit of stale bread, and only one beating. On bad days there would be no food and constant, torturous abuse.

I had endured it for 13 year, my small body the reflection of years of malnutrition and hurt,.but I'd finally escaped.

I had bid my time, waiting till they made an inevitable error, and it had finally happend. One of the younger wolves had forgotten to check the padlock when they'd had their fun with me and I'd seized the opportunity and run as fast as I could. but I wasn't fast enough. The alarm had been sounded and there were now several wolves hot on my heels and I could run no further I had to accept my fate. He was less than a metre away from me when our of nowhere another wolf - russet in colour intercepted him in mid air, knocking him over with the force of an elephant. I could hear the snarling and snapping of jaws as I finally collapsed and

surrendered, the last thing I remember was a tall young man walking towards me .

When I woke it was to a mass of activity.

I drifted in and out of sleep, hearing people talking.feeling hands on me, there was even something about the alpha wanting to see 'her', and a.'mate' and something else about ' killing the pack that did this'.. What that meant I couldn't know in my delirium.

When I managed to finally open my eyes and get past the blindly bright light above me, I was met with the image of a man-pacing back land forth, muttering to himself. And the more immediate threat of someone fiddling with the sheet that lay over me.

Surely with a man this good looking, this close to me it had to be a dream, I tried to convince .myself, but someone shattered the dream almost as soon as is materialised.

"Well hello sweetheart, I'm glad to see you're finally awake," the voice came from that of and older woman with long greying hair braided out of her face "My name's Judy, I'm your nurse," she smiled down at me. "Are you in any pain?" She asked.

I took a moment to take everything in, but I was still unable to make sense of it all.

"Where am I?" I asked, trying to sit up, but everything protested as soon as I moved, even muscles I didn't know I had.

"Just stay still for now dear, you don't want to hurt yourself further," the nurse-Judy spoke kindly, helping me to resettle myself.

Something, maybe me speaking seemed to wake the man from his trance like state and he turned to meet my confused gaze.

He was tall, he had to be at least 6 foot, with sliflghtly tanned skin, the most rich brown eyes I'd ever seen, and hair that was neatly cut, except for a few unruly curls at the front of his head which didn't want to co-operate with the hair gel he'd obviously used to style it.

"Oh,oh thank God." the man rushed over to the side of the bed stopping mere inches from my face.

I could feel my heart rate picking up as panic set in, not used to people (let alone males) being this close without hurting me.

I turned to Judy asking desperately with my eyes for help

She must have got the memo because she cleared her throat and spoke.

She seemed somewhat hesitant though "Alpha, I don't mean to overstep my boundaries, I know you must be worried sick as we all are, however would it not be prudent to give the girl some space?"

The man searched my face for a moment, before straightening and stepping backwards.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he muttered guiltily.

"You didn't," I lied before I could think about it.

"My name's Shawn what's yours?" he asked holding his hand out for me to take.

I kept my mouth shut, years of torture telling me to keep quiet. He dropped his extended up so it was back at his side.

"Alrighty then, when you're ready. I won't push you." He spoke, it seemed as though he was trying deliberately to keep his tone, soft, conversational and I appreciated it.

At that moment the doctor walked in. "It's good to see you awake Miss," he spoke echoing Judy's words.

"I'm sorry to say you're quite banged up." Shawn started pacing again at his words.

"

I would have sworn I heard a growl.

"Shawn you have to stay calm," Judy spoke, it sounded almost as if she was trying to comfort him, confusing me further.

Once the doctor left Shawn calmed down, having dragging a chair from outside my room to sit beside my bed.

"I heard something about killing another pack?" I asked weighing my words cafefully. "So are you all wolves too?"

"Yes, honey, but I promise you're safe here," he replied softly, looking over at me. I looked down again, not able to take the human interaction.

"Everytime I look at you, you look down. Why is that?"he asked, sounding sad.

" I didn't mean to upset you," I panicked.Starting to pick at the I.V in my arm, it was something I always did when I was nervous, picking things, my skin, nails whatever seemed to help.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that, I'm not mad," he cut me off. "I just mean I've noticed it is all," he lay a hand carefully on my arm and surprisingly the contact helped.

"I don't know," I pondered, distracted by his touch. There was a weird, warm feeling flowing from the point of contact straight up to my chest, not dissimilar to when your hands or feet go numb and then start to respond again. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange. "I guess, I'm not used to positive human contact," I admitted, looking up to see him shaking his head.

"Are you the Alpha?" I asked suddenly. He looked at me, surprise washing over his face at the boldness of my question.

"Yes, I am," he spoke proudly. "Of the Shadowmoon Pack, greatest pack in all of Canada if you ask me," he smiled.

I liked the way he was so confident. It made me feel safe and secure. A few more hours past with us sitting in a comfortable silence, I couldn't help but feel safe around him, and as foreign as the feeling was, I also craved it.

"Are you ready to go home now Poppet?" Judy ssekd, making her way into my room again sometime later and starting to mess around with the I.V tubing.

I looked at her panicked.

"Home?" I squeeked. Surely they weren't really going to send me home. It wasn't a home where I'd come from it was a hell, my own personal hell and I'd be damned if I was going back.

Shawn seemed to noticed my emotions and stepped forward, slowly holding his arms out, and instead of backing away as I had done earlier,I surprised us both and stepped into his hold.

He was warm and comfortable, our bodies seemed to fit perfectly,denim of his jacket just scratchy enough and the now semi familiar tingling from our contact pleasant enough to ground me somewhat. I stayed like that for a minute or so before I became a little more aware of what I was doing. I was hugging a near stranger,worse he was a male, worse again Ii was actually lettung myself like it.

Sorry, I blushed, stepoing away quicky and looking down.

"You don't need to apologise," he smiled.

"What was the tingling I felt" I asked wanting to change the subject.

"That is what you get when two mates make contact" He smiled wider than I had ever seen a person smile, his fangs being exposed in the process.

I stood, silently, shocked.

"Are you okay" He asked moving to step towards me, I held a hand up and he halted midstride.

"I promise you. We'll take things slowly, right now I just want to get you home- to our home," he amended when he saw the look of panic in my face. "So you can rest."

I nodded. Still not entirely comfortable, but what other choice did I have? Go back to the pack that had tortured me all these years, or even end up homeless on the street? And from everything I'd seen Shawn seemed like a genuinely nice person, who everyone respected. Plus,if he was telling the truth, which from heat I could tell, he was, he was my mate and from all the stories I'd heard as a child, your mate was meant to be the one person in the world who would do anything for you, be anywhere for you. They would literally protect you with their lives.

"Shawn I don't have anything to wear," I whispered embarrassed again, looking down at the gown which barely covered anything as Judy finally finished what she was doing in the corner of he room having taken out my I.V. and left.

"I brought you some clothes, don't worry," he smiled.Pullnig out the most comfortable pale pink sweater I'd ever seen, he handed it to me and I was hit with his scent.

"This is yours?"

",Is that okay?" he worried. " I could go home and get something from one of the girls if you're uncomfortable," he offered.

I just smiled,letting out a little giggle at the extreme level of concern he was showing, which caused him to immediately relax l, shoulders dropping, a slight smile gracing his lips as he shook his head softly.

"Can you turn around please?" I requested. He did as asked giving the privacy I so desperately craved.

When I was finished he took my hand, holding his other under my elbow to support my weight.

He was so patient, never rushing me as he lead me through the hospital and out the doors into the world. I couldn't help but savour the fresh air,the cold winter air burning my lungs but in a good way.

"I bet it feels nice to be outside again,"

I nodded, "How did you find me" I asked, as we continued to walk. It was as if now that I was free my mind could finally ask questions and process all the stuff I had never done previously.

"That's a story for when you've had some more rest," he answered, coming to a stop in front of a Jeep, opening the door and lifting me in. The tingling was still a shock,l everytime he touched my skin.

"Feel free to sleep we've got a bit of a drive ahead of us" he smiled reassuringly, before turning the ignition,the car coming to life.

I woke to someone shaking me,it was dark now and I immediately jumped back in my seat, unsure, before my groggy eyes made contact with Shawn's and I realised where I was and relaxed.

"I won't hurt you, you're safe now Pup," he murmured, moving to brush some hair out of my face with a feather-light touch. I blushed at the nickname."I was just waking you because we're here, this is home" I took in the house illuminated by lights in complete awe.

"So you're an Alpha and you don't hurt humans?" I asked as he helped me cafefully from he car.

"You're not human, you're an omega, but no I have nothing against humans," he added, holding me steady as I swayed on my feet slightly, not used to standing anymore.

I stood stunned again," I know it's a lot to take in, but we'll get to all of that, for now though, you need rest.

We made our way through the house in silence, I could hear other voices, yet we never came across anyone.

"This is my room," he spoke, shifting his grip on me slightly to open the door.

The room was large with huge french doors leading out to a balcony overlooking a big yard and a lake, soft- what looked like silk curtains framing the windows, a guitar sat in one corner a futon in the other. There was a record player in the corner, playing a soft melody which filled the space, creating a warm inviting feeling. In the centre of the room was the biggest bed I had ever seen.

It had several large cushions on it and a duvet cover that looked like it would feel like laying on clouds. Just this bed was bigger than he cell I'd been forced to spend so many years in,I thought with a shudder.

"This is your room?I stumbled over my words.

"Well I'm hoping it will be our room actually." Shawn spoke, scratching at his neck.

I turned panicked. "But only when you're comfortable I'm not about to force you into anything I promise."

He held his pinkie finger out, and I just looked at it unsure of what he wanted.

"Here," he smiled, taking my hand and locking my own little finger with his. "This is called a pinkie promise. It's like a pact that you don't break," he explained with a smile.

"Oh,I guess, I must have forgotten." I felt extremely stupid and shit up quickly, the only sound that of the record player still in the corner. I found it so comforting, my own father had had one when I was little and I could remember watching the record and needle spin for hours.

"There's a room adjacent to mine which I've had the maids freshen up, there's a comfortable bed and an ensuite with fresh towels and a toothbrush." he continued as if there wasn't just a massive awkward silence emitting solely from my lack of understanding.

He turned leading me back out and across the hallway to another door. When he opened it, I saw a room, smaller than his, but still warm and cosy, with a big bed, a window, lots of pretty lights and yet more records, this time hung in the wall.

"You didn't need to do this for me," I told him, as I took it all in.

"I wanted you to be comfortable," he shrugged.

He lead me back to his room where he sat down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and patting the spot next to him.

"How long was I out" I asked after a minute. He got what I meant immediately.

"Three days," he answered somberly.

"How are you feeling? he asked.

"Still very sore," I admitted.

"Here let me see your injuries." he reached over picking up a box of what I soon realised was full of first aid stuff.

He was extremely gentle as he tended to he cuts and scrapes that covered my shoulders, arms,and legs. He even managed to convince me to let him check my ribs. This I found uncomfortsbly and awkward once again, but he was careful not to make it any worse than it had to be and he had rewrapped them quicky and easily.

"How do you know how to do all this?" I asked quietly as he gently dabbed at a cut on my hand. "We'll I'm actually a trained doctor. When I'm not working as the Alpha, I work at the pack hospital. There all done," he announced,packing up the box and disposing of he rubbish in a small medical waste tin.

Half an hour later and I'd gotten changed, again into one of Shawn's oversized hoodies and made myself comfortable in his bed after he insisted I stay in his room incase I needed him.

"Sleep well, Pup, I'll be here if you need me."

He went to lounge on the futon, and I was left to drift to sleep, exhausted by the day's events. My sleep was fitful to satly the least, dreams bad nightmares melding to form weird and wonderful scenarios which would never make sense.

When I woke, it was to a soft knock on the door. Opening my eyes, I could see that it was still slightly light out, though dinner than it had been, probably somewhere around dusk. A girl with dark hair, dark eyes and a kind smile stepped tenntively into the room.

"My name's Karla. Im in the pack. It's nice to meet you," she added warmly. "Shawn's had to go deal with some pack matters so he asked me to come keep you company. I brought you some food. He said you might be hungry." She held out what looked like a croisant, the smell of butter instantly filling the room."I also brought a hair brush," she added. "I thought you might like to brush your hair, I know that always makes me feel better. Or I could do it?" she added again, shyly.

"Thank you."I whispered, my voice still hoarse.

The girl, Karla, came to sit on the bed. She had to be the same age as me. Maybe a year or two older.

"I hope the pack meeting doesn't go too long," she said as I started picking at my croisant. "Shawn won't want to be away from you, it's hard to be away from our mates." She looked dreamy as she spoke, leaving no question that she too had a mate.

"I'm nervous to meet everyone," I admitted with a frown, suddenly not hungry anymore.

"Aww, don't worry everyone will love you," she smiled. "We've all been waiting for ages for him to meet his mate and you're finally here." she clapped in excitement, breaking E and forcing me to smile just as Shawn came through the door with another soft knock.

"Ahhh, I see you've meet Karla," he smiled, raising his eyebrow a little bit. " I hope she's been telling you good things."

"Yep, what were you doing" I asked watching as he took his deniem jacket off- the same one from earlier and chucked it onto the futon, coming to sit next to me on the bed, careful not to invade my personal space.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked watching as I pulled the crosiant to pieces no longer interested by the food, now that I had him here.

"I'm alright," I shrugged.

He nodded, and we lapsed into yet another comfortable quiet.

It was only then that I realised Karla had left the room, she must have excused herself, seeing that she was no longer needed and didn't feel the need to encroach.The hairbrush however was still laying on the bed.

"I just want you to know," he spoke, breaking the silence after a while, "that no matter what happeneds you'll be safe here. I'll protect you with my life, it's my job both as your Alpha and as your mate," he spoke earnestly.

He was looking at me with such an intensity as he spoke that something broke inside of me, and I cracked. "Lucy," I whispered looking down and away from his gaze.

"What?" I could here the confusion in his voice.

"Lucy, my name, my name is Lucy." I spoke more clearly this time, though I still couldn't bring myself to look at him.

"Lucy, that's a pretty name," he murmured. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was reaching for me, and as much as I wanted to move, my body was frozen whether in fear or anticipation I couldn't know, but the next thing I knew both his hands were cupping my face. He was so gentle, almost as if he thought I would break. I looked up at him, once again taken aback by the intensity of his stare.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you blush," he smiled, caressing my cheek.

"Please don't compliment me, I don't deserve it, I'm ugly," I repeated the words my captors had drilled into me for so many years.

"You, Lucy," he put emphasis on my name. "are anything but ugly. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known, inside and out."

"How can you say that?" I replied.

"Because, I can feel it Lucy, right here," he took my hand in his and placed it over his chest where I could feel his heart beat strong and sure. "I've been waiting for you my entire life. And now that I have you, it's my job, my honour to protect you with my life," he explained fiercly.

"Thank you," I chocked out, tears welling in my eyes.Leaning into his frame just slightly despite myself and my fears.

"No pup, thank you."

[gliese710]

Love - The Punishment: Part 1

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Y/N

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: Y/N is a low ranked devil who finds her joy in the smallest of mischiefs. If only a certain angel could mind his own business.

Warnings: Swearings I guess?

Masterpost

Note: This is my first story. I'm still not sure if it's readable at all or if posting was a good idea. Still if you're reading this feel free to make suggestions ^^

----------------------------

"Smash the TV, it's tit for tat," you whisper in the enraged boy's ear. His mother just broke his gaming console. As, of course, you were successful in provoking him to play all day long despite his finals knocking on the door. And when his mother hid the console maybe you also convinced him to steal it. Teenagers should have fun, you thought.

You watch as the boy picks up his baseball bat and storms through the door. A small smirk plays on your lips as you spread your wings to follow him, not wanting to miss the show.

Goal. You step in the living room excitedly. But-

What the fuck is he doing? A frown takes place on your brows upon seeing the boy hesitant to execute the action.

Once again you reach out to him, "Come on, do it. You'll feel much better if you take your anger out. She deserves it anyway, never letting you do anything you want. This is your life, you are the one to decide how you want to spend it. She has no right to dictate you."

Still, the boy doesn't budge from his position. You watch as guilt flashes in his eyes and he slowly starts retreating to his room, leaving the TV intact.

Realization hits you like a truck after a moment. Angel. 

You move your head left and right to confirm your suspicion. And there he is, sitting on top of the dining table, legs hanging below, white wings tucked behind his back with all his grace, glaring at you with big bright eyes.

You huff out in annoyance. There's no point being here anymore. Shooting back a death glare at him, you fly out of the house.

Fucking snob. He just had to ruin your day. Now you need to find another prey. Not that it's hard, the world is full of shits anyway.

You find your target pretty soon, a small kid with his mother in a convenience store. And it's winter so-

"You want ice cream," you command, lips twitching upwards as the boy obeys you. And surely his mother denies.

So you proceed to the next step, "Chocolate ice cream tastes so good. She'll have to buy you one if you get on the floor and cry."

You were so ready to enjoy a little drama, and yet...yet the kid nods in obedience. Forget throwing a fit, he doesn't even argue.

Impossible. A small kid just resisted your advances.

You stand baffled for a second before narrowing your eyes on the source of your disruption. Of course he won't leave you that easily. 

The saucer-eyed angel from before is staring at you from outside the store, with the blankest expression of all time and you get a sudden urge to claw those eyes out.

That jobless piece of shit, why the fuck is he following you?

You decide to ask him the right way, the violent way. He bought this upon himself.

However, as you were just about to stop throwing daggers at him through your eyes and move outside so that you could maybe punch some sense into him, he flies away.

You hurriedly run outside the store but he's already gone.

Sneaky bastard.

You decide to call it a day. He just sucked up all your energy.

-------------------------------

Fucking unbelievable. You had been in a great mood lately, having spent a good productive week. And here the ass of an angel had to ruin that by destroying your sweetest treat.

You spent so much time provoking that girl with the princess syndrome to bully the other girl who's wearing a wristwatch probably from the Joseon era. Seriously though, why would she even wear a model this old?

And finally, when the bully was about to break the watch he had to interrupt.

Now you are beyond mad. What is he even doing here, again?

You're not going to let him get away without settling the scores this time. He'll have to pay for your loss.

You were expecting to see him flee like before. So you get a little surprised when he doesn't even move from his position seeing you approaching.

"It's her mother's. She is wearing it because it's her death anniversary and she feels lonely, " the creep says, eyes fixed on the girl, not even sparing you a glance.

You furrow your brows in confusion. Why is he telling you all these? Is he trying to get you more worked up, by rubbing the fact in your face that you missed a good chance at witnessing a catfight when triggered enough?

He turns to look at your confused form glaring murderously at him and sighs heavily, before getting ready to run away again.

Huh. Like he could.

You too take flight after him. "Hey, dickhead! Mind telling me why the hell are you following me?" you ask, tailing behind him.

"It was a coincidence, I'm not following you," he retorts with a cold emotionless voice, looking straight ahead.

"Yeah, right," you scoff.

He keeps flying, still refusing to look at you.

"Where are you going?" you continue chasing him.

Silence.

"Do you stalk other devils too?"

Silence.

"I'm sure you were a stalker while alive, old habits die hard you know. You were accidentally put in the heaven, righ-"

He finally stops.

"I told you I wasn't following you," he speaks with a slight rise in his voice. "Stop with your tactics and please leave me alone."

"Oh! How can I leave my perfect source of entertainment alone when he willingly walked into my den?"

He glowers at you and you raise your brows, giving him a mischievous upturn of your lips.

After that day, the angel had never been left alone. You clung onto him like a leech. He tried hard to get rid of you, giving you fierce glares or sometimes trying to sweet talk you into leaving him. Nothing worked, so he gave up eventually, resorting to acting like you were invisible to him.

You're enjoying the time of your life though. Annoying him is so much fun.

"I bet that tastes nasty. What do you think?" you say, sitting beside him on the couch, watching as the newlywed husband tries hard to swallow the food his wife cooked for him. He smiles afterward, telling her this is the best food he has ever eaten.

You snort at this.

"Such cheesy lines! Aren't angels supposed to be against lying?"

He doesn't pay you any attention, instead keeps his gaze glued on the couple. The girl is now laughing hard at some joke her lovesick puppy of a husband has told.

You're itching to ruin this moment. A few days from now, they're going to be at each other's neck anyway. Why pretending now!

But your power is too limited to do anything in the presence of your companion. So pestering him would have to do for now.

"What's your name?" you ask him for the n-th time, also to get completely ignored for the n-th time.

You sigh dramatically, " It's rude you know. I've given you my name and you still refuse to tell me yours. Angels aren't supposed to be rude like this."

You get his attention this time.

"Will you leave me alone if I give you my name?" he slowly turns to look at you.

"But why would I do that?" you chuckle, "I'm not leaving you alone and that's the reason you should tell me your name," you continue, batting your eyes innocently, "We're going to spend a lifetime together."

He rolls his eyes and looks away again.

"Come on. I'm not that bad as a company and it's not like you have any friends anyway. I'm doing you a favor by keeping you entertained, " you say, now hovering over his face so that he has no choice but to look at you.

"I have friends..." he scowls, "and you just keep my headaches incessant."

You smirk and he stands up, pushing you aside to leave the house. His job here is done.

You follow, humming and swaying like a child behind him, leaving the giggling couple alone.

-------------------------------

Kyungsoo can't believe his eyes. He has spent the last hour practically begging her not to do this, telling her over and over again that this shall pass, that everything will be fine again, that this is not her fault so she shouldn't be the one to commit to eternal suffering. He barely has any energy left. So, when she jumps off the cliff despite all that, he feels devastated, worthless even.

Grief covers his heart. He stares blankly at the hollow space in front of him, standing completely still.

"See..." you yawn, "Told you it's a lost case. It would be more fun to see her rip that cheater boyfriend's head off, but at least the world is ridden of a coward now. Why did she even have to love him so blindly, it always ends up the same. She had it coming anyway, being so fooli-"

"Shut up!" he snarls.

You visibly flinch. He looks outrageous. You shudder a little under his blazing gaze.

"You did this! If only I could concentrate more...but no! A useless piece of filth had to be even more of a burden," he scoffs, "Why do you even exist? The world would definitely be a better place without you!"

You stand dumbstruck. Partly because you have never imagined him to be anything other than the epitome of patience, but mostly because of how you are feeling right now. You should feel angry or happy even that you triggered him, an angel! But strangely those feelings are nowhere to be found, instead you feel...sad?

"The next time I see you I'll make sure the world gets ridden of atleast one piece of it's burdens," he growls and with that flies off to somewhere, leaving you too stunned to move.

You stand there, unable to move your eyes from the spot he stood a moment ago, utterly shaken.

Your chest feels heavy for some unknown reason. Snapping out of it after a while, you too fly, though this time not after a certain someone.

You feel lost, not knowing where to go or what to do. You curse under your breath when you realize that a few days of entertainment has done more harm to yourself than good. 

You've never been so directionless before.

[wallwriterstuff]

Only For A Night

Characters: Mammon and Asmodeus (Obey Me) because I'm a sucker for Mammon being a good big brother

Warnings: None, maybe a little angsty in places, a bit of self-doubt but nothing major. 

Words: 2609

Summary: Asmodeus is consumed by lust, but it doesn’t always mean what people think it does. While preparing for work, Asmo reflects on what it really means to be the Avatar of Lust, and just how tired of it he is. 

Avatar.

Noun.

Meaning – an incarnation, embodiment, or manifestation of a person or an idea.

 Lust.

Noun.

Meaning – strong desire.

Verb.

Meaning – to have a strong desire for a person or thing.

 So many people misunderstood that word. Lust had been linked to sex since time immemorial and Asmodeus had been one of many in a long line of souls to fall prey to the misconceptions that word carried with it. He heaved a sigh, cupping his hand to bring some of the warm water up and over his bicep. Red eyes glowed as they watched the suds fall from his skin, nose twitching to inhale the scent of jasmine that was left behind - he’d have to pander to yet more of those ill-informed buffoons in just a few hours and he wasn’t honestly ready to play the part today. The moment he finished the shoot he’d be expected to attend The Fall with his entourage, to endure succubi crawling all over him and demons flocking from every corner of the club just to attach their name to his, if only for the night.

He was so tired of it.

Everybody thought the Avatar of Lust was all about sex, driven by pleasure and obsessed with appearance. To the outside world Asmo was as shallow as a kiddie pool, and nobody ever took him seriously enough to see otherwise. Well, everyone except his brothers. They were always the ones to see past the front he put up, remembered there was more underneath that mattered. He was sure there was going to be dozens of demons vying for his attention tonight, their fingers trailing his skin and their lips by his ear whispering things that made his skin crawl and his desire flare. The thought was enough to make him nauseous. He didn’t want that tonight. He wanted to sit with Satan perhaps, read a good book and exchange views on it. Maybe Mammon needed him to do his accounts again with him? Figure out how far in the red he was?

Asmo took a deep breath and sank under the water, relishing in the silence and stillness the water offered. Demons were always tempted by one sin or another, but the pull was strongest when it was a sin they specialised in. How was Asmo supposed to convince anyone he was as three dimensional as any of his brothers when the very sin he embodied set him up to fail every time? You could lust for more than just somebody’s body. You could lust for the finest wines and the best clothes, or maybe you strongly desired to travel and feel the sense of wonder that came with it. Some people lusted for attention and craved to be at the centre of it all, while others lusted for the quite seclusion of a life lived far from people, surrounded by nature and all it’s beauty. The problem was, people only ever seemed to associate lust with sex, so Asmo was bombarded with demons who wanted to seduce him and taste the pleasure he could offer.

How the hell was he supposed to say no when they appealed to the very sin he embodied? Lust was his greatest temptation in whatever form it came in and it had taken him centuries to temper his desires to the point where it was possible for him to go out and about without having a meltdown. Lust wasn’t like pride or greed. Arguably, himself, Belphie and Levi had suffered the most when it came to adapting to their sins, struggling to fight something internal that wasn’t a physical habit. Asmo felt his lungs start to burn and he surfaced with a gasp, blindly reaching for the face cloth he’d left on the side to wipe the water from his eyes.

He could remember the day they’d first come back to the House of Lamentation, the utter disgust he’d felt at seeing his room and knowing it was not good enough for him while simultaneously disgusted with himself for turning his nose up at someone’s charity towards him. He had been a good angel once, one that was admired and adored for his beauty and his generosity. Nothing was ever too much for Asmodeus to help with and when he became a demon he was supposed to just…take? It felt backward, abnormal, and that was without the constant strong desire pulling him in every which direction the minute he stepped out of their front door.

The feeling was so strong it had moved his body of its own accord. Trying to ignore his desire to go into certain shops, to smell specific flowers, to chase certain figures that were pleasing to the eye…that had felt like a giant magnet had been trying to tear his skin off whenever he tried to turn his back on the temptations. It was physically painful to avoid what he wanted, because he wanted it more badly than anything else in the Devildom, felt he might actually die if he didn’t have it. He leaned his head back, huffing slightly. All of this worry wasn’t going to do his skin any good. He’d get wrinkles, or worse, acne. The very thought made him shiver and he pushed himself out of the water to begin drying off. The sound of the water rushing down the plughole only served to heighten his anxiety, every little drop rushing away feeling like sand dripping through the hourglass, counting down to the inevitable photoshoot that would become a night on the town.

The photoshoot wasn’t something he honestly minded. He had always been adored and admired, he had never had any problem with grabbing attention and that hadn’t changed after the fall, but the Celestial Realm had admired him for the things he did for them. What could he do for the Devildom? His talents had been diminished when his Celestial powers were lost, leaving him with virtually nothing to offer the Devildom, nothing except his body. It was Mammon who had come up with the idea first to go into modelling, calling it a sure shot to make money. It filled his pockets nicely enough to suit his purpose but it gave Asmo the solution he needed to. It filled his need to give into his lust for attention, he wanted eyes on him and this was the perfect way to achieve that, but it also gave him a way to give back. He knew he was good looking, and people liked looking at beautiful things. He was a treat for the eyes, and the attention he got made him thrive, spurred him to do it more. His beauty routine and the career it spawned had quite frankly saved him.

There was always a theme to work with as seasons faded in and out and fashion designers rose to fame and fell again, so it curbed his spending habits just a little by forcing him to desire only what was fashionable in the moment to his fans. His desire to be beautiful had left him the face of many different beauty products, simultaneously satisfying his desire to have his face everywhere and to be raking in the kind of money you could only make as an influencer at the top of their game. All that money meant he could satisfy his urge to be surrounded by luxury, hence the opulent rooms he’d designed for himself. No, his beauty routine, his photoshoots, his design career even, they all satisfied his urges and kept him sane, but the social side of his life in the spotlight was draining to say the least. Sitting in his robe, Asmo stared at his reflection, dull red eyes staring back at him through damp, limp hair. He looked nothing like the Asmodeus people expected to see but the thought of the long night ahead was truly harrowing today.

It was the anniversary of their fall from grace after all.

A knock on his door made him perk in his seat but his eyes didn’t stray from the mirrors surrounding him.

“Come in?” he called out. Mammon was the last person he’d expected to see at his door today of all days, yet still there he stood, tall and lean with his shades on. He sauntered over with such confidence, a bright smile on his face as he slapped a stack of money on the tabletop beside Asmo’s makeup bag.

“Here ya go Asmo, everything I owe ya!” he was absolutely radiating pride, so much so Asmo blinked a few times to see if his eyes were mistaking him and it was actually Lucifer who had walked in instead. He didn’t bother to check the stack of notes, knowing his brother always came up good when he finally got around to paying him back.

Mostly.

Sometimes.

Honestly, today he was just too tired to check.

“Thanks, Mammon.” He murmured, reaching for his spray. He’d already used his favourite hair mask, now it was time to whip out the old heat-protector spray and his blow dryer. Mammon raised an eyebrow at him as the roar of the little motor echoed around the room, Asmo taking his time to carefully brush out each strand to get it dry and just the right kind of bouncy. He didn’t need his hair falling flat before his big shoot. Mammon didn’t leave, watching him go through the motions robotically as he put on his headband to start applying his make-up.

“Say, Asmo? You er, you feelin’ okay?” Mammon asked him. He’d taken off his shades now, blue and yellow eyes shining with concern. Asmo spared him the briefest glance in the mirror, scowling as he applied his foundation.

“Mammon! I know I’m not looking my best right now but I am still glowing thank you!” he scolded. Mammon sighed, head shaking.

“I didn’t mean that! You’re…well you look like you usually do I guess?” he floundered for a moment, making Asmo beam at him amusedly.

“And what might that look like?” he purred, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at his brother through the mirror. Mammon jumped, the weight of his stare proving too much. Asmo just couldn’t help himself, not when Mammon was so easy to fluster. Only Levi could outrank Mammon when it came to who blushed the quickest. Mammon folded his arms, weight rolling from hip to hip as he fidgeted.

“Ah forget it will ya? I was tryna be nice but if you’re gonna be like that…I just thought you might wanna talk about something.” He grumbled, turning on his heel to leave. Asmo’s smile fell slowly, watching Mammon get further and further away from him. His brother, the Avatar of Greed of all people, was concerned enough for his welfare to ask about him? How many people could he say that for?

“Mammon.” His name had escaped his lips before he could really think about, his hands falling into his lap as he ducked his gaze. “Maybe I do want to talk about it.” He said quietly. Mammon paused at the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before he trundled back over and took a seat on the raised edge of his bath.

“Sure! Sure ya can talk to me! I’m the GREAT Mammon after all, great at listening. I can do that.” Mammon rambled, almost as if he was trying to give himself a pep talk. Asmo briefly questioned the sanity of his choice before turning fully on his stool and leaning back against the counter behind him with a sigh.

“I’m just so tired.” He complained. Mammon squinted, looking awfully constipated as he nodded for him to continue. Asmo realised it was a look he’d never seen before on Mammon’s face. Concentration.

“Tired of what?” Mammon prompted.

“Of people.” Asmo huffed, “I’m tired of people, Mammon. I’m tired of them throwing themselves at me and whispering all that filthy nonsense like they do. I want to just do my photoshoot and let that be that.” Mammon blinked at him, slowly processing what he had said. Not for the first time, Asmo started to second guess his choice.

“So…you don’t want to go to the after party and have a bunch of succubi throwing themselves at you?” he asked slowly, looking at him like he didn’t quite believe him. Sighing in annoyance he turned back to his mirror and reached for his beauty blender.

“I know I am incredible company Mammon but that doesn’t mean I always want to be somebody’s arm candy for the night. I’m capable of more, you know? I designed an entire fall collection once but does anybody talk about that? No! It’s all about the length of my-“

Asmo paused, searching his dull red eyes for an honest answer.

“Yeah yeah we get it!” Mammon was quick to cut him off, hands fluttering as his wide eyes looked anywhere but Asmo for a second. The Avatar of Lust was carefully starting to apply the contour lines to his face now, his eyes rolling to his older brother briefly before focusing back on his reflection. Mammon was very quiet for a while before he quietly asked,

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes.” He said softly, “If someone waved a stack of money in your face, would you refuse it?”

“Of course not!” Mammon’s answer was immediate, and then he flinched a bit. “It’d be impossible not to.” He admitted quietly, brows furrowing. Asmo knew he understood then, a deep sigh escaping him as he nodded.

“Exactly, I feel the same way when people throw themselves at me. Sometimes I really don’t want to but…it’s impossible to refuse the temptation.” He heard the flat note in his voice and tried to smile, but there was no warmth or mirth there at all. He didn’t feel glamorous at all and that was preventing him from looking the part, but he couldn’t let his fans down on this shoot! His routine and his sanity depended on it!

“Perhaps-“Mammon pushed to his feet and pushed his hands down deep into his pockets, looking bashful, “-I mean maybe I could come with ya and, well we could go get dinner or something after? Give you an excuse not to go yanno?” Asmo blinked, staring at his older brother in surprise. Had Mammon actually had a smart idea for once? It could work, if they thought he had plans with his brother. Mammon was another big name, someone who regularly had cameras on him, they’d get lots of attention to fulfil Asmo’s need for it without any of the interruptions – nobody was stupid enough to approach Two of the Seven Demon Lords while they were clearly on a private outing. Mammon however was already backtracking, clearly panicking he’d said the wrong thing, but Asmo was grinning at him now, his smile dazzling as it always had to be, should be.

“That’s a perfect idea!” he laughed, “Oh Mammon thank you! However can I repay you?”

“Pay for dinner.” Mammon said instantly, already batting away the hands reaching for him. Asmo giggled, feeling lighter somehow now.

“Of course!” Asmo wiggled the stack of cash Mammon had just paid him back with, “Ristorante Six it is!” Mammon’s smile slowly grew, head nodding enthusiastically. Asmo settled back into his makeup routine with renewed vigour. He’d need to look his best after all, for his big dinner date with Mammon. His big brother had unknowingly saved him from a fate worse than death tonight, and he was more than grateful, even if his fate had been changed only for one night.