#and the mc (who is from that race!) goes I can see how seductive and convincing this is...

[clonerightsagenda]

#recently read March 25

Projections by S E Porter. The ghost of a young woman murdered by a jealous sorcerer narrates his continued destructive obsession and her quest for revenge. *An effectively constructed look at toxic masculinity, could've been shorter imo.

Heavenly Tyrant by Xiran Jay Zhao. After waking the legendary lost emperor, Zetian is forced to play along as his empress until they can overthrow the gods. *Was not expecting all the labor theory tbh but sure. A real 'leftist man who won't do the dishes' situation.

Taiwan Travelogue by Yang Shuang-Zi. Novel pretending to be translated autofiction by a Japanese visitor to colonial Taiwan, documenting her fraught relationship with her local interpreter. *Fun with metafiction, explores the limitations of translation and affection between colonizer and colonized.

Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson. A hacker and a courier team up to stop the release of a virus meant to hack people's brains. *Definitely helpful to read to orient me to other works in the genre but boy was it written by a white man in the early 90s.

Look Again by Elizabeth Trembley. Graphic memoir illustrating how the author's recollection of finding a corpse in the woods changed with each retelling, and how trauma impacts our memory.

Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky. A professor and political dissident is sent to a labor camp searching for the lifeforms that created signs of civilization on an alien world. *Tchaikovsky really loves speculative xenobiology huh. Also appreciated the full throated radicalism.

Magus of the Library by Mitsu Izumi. A young outcast trains to become one of the elite librarians who maintain the world's fragile peace. *My coworkers keep recommending library mangas. I didn't follow everything but the most recent volume featured the librarians debating their role in providing or restricting access to texts that foment bigotry and violence, which is a discussion our profession continues to have.

[weebswrites]

How would the demon bros react to an artist MC who secretly sketches them and they find MC’s sketchbook~?

The Demon Bros: Finding MC’s Sketchbook

Lucifer

He goes to your room to check on you and sees your sketchbook lying open on your bed

He doesn’t want to invade your privacy, but he can’t help but take a peek at what it is you’re working on

He’s seen you working hard on something for the past few days and has been curious

He steps towards your bed and looks down at the page

It’s him!

His eyes scan the page, taking in how handsomely you’ve portrayed him, sitting at his desk working

He smiles and flips the pages to see what else you’ve drawn

It’s all him ? Reading, cooking, talking, existing. You’ve captured him in every light

You walk back into your room

“Lucifer!” you gasp, rushing over and shutting the sketchbook, in denial that he saw the pages and pages of himself

“What did you see” you ask him, standing on your tiptoes to try to intimidate him

He debates whether or not to lie, but knows how strongly you value honesty and communication

“I saw a few, but, they’re all incredible, MC. You don’t have to hide them from me”

You blush, “I just didn’t know if you’d think it’s weird that I draw you so much”

He leans down and kisses you, gently, whispering “It’s not weird at all, it’s quite flattering actually” against your lips

You spend the next bit of time going through your sketchbook, showing him the sketches and explaining how he made your heart race

Mammon

You two are chilling in your room on your bed, chatting about this and that

He reaches over to your nightstand and grabs the sketchbook, “Hey, human, what’re you always drawing in here anyways” he asks innocently

“Mammon no!” you try to grab the book from his hands but he’s already opened it

He goes silent, flipping through page after page of sketches and drawings of him, some colored, some not

“Mammon…I can explain…” you whisper, face red with embarrassment

He shakes his head no and continues flipping through each page, the silence in the room making you nervous

After he’s done looking he closes the book, “Mah human~” he says lovingly, and leans over and presses a kiss to your lips

“I shoulda known you were drawing The Great Mammon, what else would you draw?” he teased, kissing you again before returning the sketchbook to your nightstand

You giggle, “Exactly, what else would be so worthy of the pages than you?”

He teases you about it from time to time when he sees you sketching, but you know that seeing page upon page of himself in your sketchbook really struck a chord in his heart (sometimes he poses for you but tries to act like it’s just how he’s naturally sitting, but you both know that’s a lie) (and he looks at you with so much love in his eyes when he knows you’re drawing him, it fills your heart with such a warm feeling)

Leviathan

He’s on his fourth hour of playing through a new game

You normally play with him, but it’s not MPG, so you’re just watching him and refilling the snack bowl for the two of you when it gets empty

One trip back you stop by your room and get your sketchbook and favorite pencil

You drop the snacks beside him and sit on his bed, beginning to sketch the back of his head and body looking at the monitor

He doesn’t notice at first, but during a scene change when the screen goes black he sees you sketching, glancing up at him from time to time

“MC, what are you drawing?” he asks

“Uhh…nothing really” you stammer, hoping he didn’t catch on to your obvious lie

He does, of course, and pauses his game to come look

You try to hide your page, but don’t stop him when he sits next to you and lifts it from your arms

“Babe…” he whispers, admiring the work you’d done in such a short time, before flipping a page back and seeing another sketch of him

“I just…you’re my everything, Levi, and sometimes I see you and I just, have to capture the moment” you explain

“These are incredible, why haven’t you shown me sooner?” he asks, flipping through page after page of your work

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, thinking I was always trying to draw you

“I appreciate that,” he says, stopping on a page to admire a drawing from a few weeks ago of him reading a manga, “You have so much talent”

He showers you in compliments and after a brief kiss, goes back to his game, resuming the same position he was in earlier so you could finish your drawing

Satan

You were in the library on the couch, he was rereading a favorite book and you were sketching

You sat on either end of the couch, facing each other with your legs intertwined

You’d been working on sketching your view of this for about an hour, and were proud of how well it was going

Suddenly, Satan closes his book at you and meets your eyes as they were studying his face

“Can I ask what you’re studying my face so intently for?” he asks bluntly, never holding back any punches

And you didn’t either, “I’m…drawing us. And I want to capture your face as accurately as possible” you explain

He holds his hand out for you to hand over the sketchbook, and you do after a quick glance down to look at your work

He studies your drawing before flipping to the beginning and looking through each page, admiring each one

You watched as his eyes took in every inch of every page

“Satan?” you ask, wanting to hear his thoughts

“MC, I had no idea you had so much talent” he whispered, taking minutes on each page, sincerely admiring the time and effort you’d put into each drawing

“I hope it’s okay I draw you a lot, you’re always on my mind and I want to capture every moment we have together”

“It’s perfectly, kitten” he reassures you, a light blush crossing his face as he reached the piece you were working on currently again, scanning it before handing you back your sketchbook

“Show me your work more often, it’s beautiful”

You smile, falling even more in love with him than you thought was humanly (or demonly) possible

“I will”

Asmodeus

You’re a bit tipsy, whoops

“What are you always drawing in that sketchbook of yours, anyways” he teases, poking your shoulder

“Nothinggg” you defend yourself

“Then show me if it’s nothing” he smirks, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, flipping open your sketchbook to a random page

The random page happened to be a page with a drawing of him, sitting at his desk and applying a face cream

“Honey…is this a drawing of me?” he asks, voice soft

“Yeah” you say, getting up and walking over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist

“They’re all of you” you explain, scanning through the pages with your thumb

He takes a bit to flip through the pages slower, appreciating each drawing for a moment before moving to the next

After he’s done he closes the book and turns to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips

“Seeing myself from your eyes…it was amazing” he whispered, pulling away, “Your art is amazing”

“Thanks, Asmo” you say, smiling and kissing him again

He absolutely makes you draw him posing now, he’ll sit in any pose he can think of, in all sorts of cute or seductive outfits, letting you draw him for hours and hours

Sometimes he’ll wear an outfit, and well, the drawing doesn’t last long lol

Beelzebub

He doesn’t want to pry at what you’re doing, but you can tell by the way his eyes linger whenever you’re drawing that he’s curious

After you get a good portion of the way done with your current drawing, you scoot next to him

(You’re in the kitchen, because duh)

“Beel, can I show you what I’ve been working on?”

“Of course, my love”

You turn the sketchbook from your chest to his eyes, handing it to him

He takes it, carefully admiring the most recent few pages

His heart is beating fast, the fact that you saw him and wanted to draw him made him so soft

“MC…” he whispers

“Beel?”

“These are so good, your talent is undeniable” he praises you

“Thank you” you reply, heart warmed by his kind words

“You…always draw me. Why?” he asks

“You always stick out to me, love. You’re handsome and strong and the love of my life. Sometimes I get hit with a wave of appreciation for you and want to capture the moment” you explain

He smiles, blushing more before leaning in and kissing you

After a few kisses you two pull away, resting your foreheads together

“I love you, Beel”

“I love you too, MC”

Belphegor

You keep it Very on the down low when you’re drawing him

You know he doesn’t like attention on him, even when it’s from you, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable

One day he catches you

The two of you are in his room, he’s reading something on his phone and you’re sketching

You always told him it was for your art class, which was sometimes true, at least

“MC, can I see what you’re working on” he asks

You hesitate for a moment, “Belphie, I’m…I’m drawing you” you confess, lowering your head a bit

He just looks at you, “Oh…”

“If it makes you uncomfortable I’ll stop, it’s just sometimes you look so peaceful I want to capture it forever” you ramble

“Hey, MC, it’s okay. I trust you” he says, holding out his hand for you to give him the sketchbook

You do so, and study his face intently as he flips through the pages

He stops at one, and you glance to see which one it is

It’s one from a few weeks ago, he was mid-nap, hair messy and face perfectly calm

“You’re so talented” he commented, “this one in particular, the level of detail is impressive”

“Thanks” you say, letting out a sigh of relief and laughing a bit

“You should show me more often, I’d love to see more of your work. Even if it’s just drawings of me” he teases lightly

You smile, nodding, “Yeah, I will”

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

A/N: wow I’m not doing too hot on posting every day am I lol, but I’ve gotten some really fun requests (like this one !! thank u anon I loved writing this so much) and they’re keeping me motivated

[drakewalkerfantasy]

The Secret of Persuasion (Tatum x F!MC)

Summary: The Secret is the only way for them to be together. But how long will they be able to keep it until Mrs. President will find out the truth? And how easily it will be for them not forget about the rules in public? Couple of drinks in and the darkness... will it be possible for them to keep a secret? Or will they fall ones again in the arms of each other?

Words: 3447

Authors notes: I really hope you will enjoy this. Please let me know if still want to be tagged and what I can improve. 

Sequel for The art of Foreign Affairs

Part 1 of The Secret of Foreign Affairs

Raiting: to be safe 16+

**Warnings: couple curse words/couple f*** words/mention of sexual intimacy but nothing too graphic**

The bright lights bounced off her body, while she was out there on the dance floor swaying to the beat. Her body clad in a red sinful dress raising just slightly over her thighs. Slightly but enough for the heat to rush through his body and for him wanting to be the one who would grind against her to the beat of the music instead of standing on the side to guard her.

His hands on her hips, touching... sliding... gripping her. His lips at the side of her neck, licking... sucking... biting. And his dick pressed firmly against her backside, while he was moving in sync with her body. Wanting her. Needing her. Craving her.

He groaned quietly through the gritted teeth, trying not to attract too much attention from the other bodyguards. Shaking himself off the vision. But his eyes never left her... as if his gaze was drawn to her by some unseen force, magnified by her, enticed by her.

His eyes followed her every move, not able to look away. Her eyes holding his and her lips parting slightly in a sigh. This deliciously sensual sound he loves to hear when she goes still under him before falling apart... before crying out his name in a desperate plea, while the waves of orgasm wash over her. He could feel how his body stiffened, when he noticed Blaine. The guy who gave a damn about the centuries of feud between their countries. Watching helplessly how he approached Claire on the dance floor. Growling when he seen how his hands came to the hem of her dress, bunched up from her movements on the mid-thigh, as if begging for him to come over and drag her to the nearest empty VIP room. And oh my god here were many… as if calling for him to do just that. His eyes darkened when he saw Blaine’s fingers trailing along her neck, swaying back and forth with the beat, rocking Claire’s hips with his hands, and he still couldn’t look away, when the sparks of jealousy coursed through him. And it took everything in him not to go there, stoically watching her in the hands of another man, , knowing damn well that he could do nothing without revealing his own feelings and their secret.

He was still leaning against the wall by the bar, watching her protectively, when she finally came over to him. And he instantly noticed that it was one or two too many drinks for her. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were glimmering with this knowing smile and mischief. And he knew from the past few weeks they were together that it always ended the same way, usually with him buried deep inside her warmth. Thrusting, groaning, fucking her... he cursed quietly feeling how his dick hardened, growing just from a single thought of her pressed against the bar or even better splayed on a pool table, opened and willing for him. On one of those on which she leaned just a few moments ago, easily rolling the last ball into the hole before winking at stunned Blaine and leaving him alone. But he stubbornly locked all the thoughts and images about her like that, hot and ready for him, out of his mind, watching in front of him with a stony expression.

He could feel how every cell in his body started to buzz and drumm as soon as she stood next to him, leaning against the wall. Her arms crossed over her chest imitating his pose, and he could do nothing else, but fight back a smile that was threatening to break through his stoic mask. Her shoulder brushing his, and his fingers itching to touch hers. Finally his hands slipped down from his chest, noticing how hers did the same only to find their way to each other just a second later. His pinky hooking Claire’s, squeezing for a split second before letting it go as if acknowledging her presence. But his face gave nothing away. She could have believed that she imagined it all for herself if not for a tingling sensation, the same one she always felt whenever they touched.

“What’s up?” He asked quietly after a moment of a content silence between them. So quietly that if she wouldn’t raise her head to look at him, she would have missed the slightest movement of his lips, reading from them what he said.

“I just wanted to say thanks for being cool about tonight,” answered she, trying to outcry the music. Her face beaming with a widest smile, and he couldn’t help it but smile back at her, forgetting for a moment of all the risks. From the corner of his eyes he subtly checked her out. And his eyes darkened just slightly when they met hers, the memory of another guy... Blaine, touching her so freely... so bluntly on the dance floor, shooting through him. And the possessive glimmer in his eyes doubled, when his eyes slid to the hickey on the juncture between her throat and her shoulder. The one he left her only this morning, when he forgot about caution just for a moment, but enough for a bluish-purple bruise to form on her sensitive skin.

“Don’t mention it. I just glad you didn’t take me to a full-on rave...,” replied Tatum louder.

“Really? But it seems like your scene...” teased Claire, her eyes sparkling.

“I’d rather not have to guard you in a dark room with lasers and lights flash all over the place...,” he said, and before he could stop himself added: “And with guys throwing themselves all over you.” His voice coming out as a low and husky growl. His expression - stony, but his eyes... his eyes somber and hurt her the way nothing else did. Feeling, how all the memories, all the doubts, everything hit him at ones, and all what she wanted to do in that moment was to proof him how wrong he was... how incredibly stupid he was for thinking even for a second that she could think or want anyone else but him. Especially when the only guy she ever needed, the most amazing guy she ever knew was standing right here next to her.

Yes, she liked Blaine, probably even more than she intended to... and she knew that here was no point in denying or hiding it. But Tatum… she loved him. And here was no way that she would screw it up, not after knowing how much it hurts not to have him in her life.

“Are you... are you jealous?” she asked in a quiet voice, so quiet that he would have missed it if his eyes wouldn’t be locked on her mouth. Wanting nothing else but to kiss this red luscious lips. Claire’s heart raced while she fell deeper under his spell... feeling like some unseen force pulled her in and closer to him. Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue ran at the seam, making him hardened instantly. The seductive vision of Claire just an hour ago in that same red dress kneeling in front of him floated in his mind. And his dick twitched, from the memory of him thrusting deep inside her mouth. And just like that he was rock-hard again.

“Shit...,” he muttered with a half groan suspiciously resembling the growl, and with a soft pink blush colouring his cheeks.

He could feel how she shifted just a tiny bit closer to him. Her hip cocked out to the side and he couldn’t help it but snaked his hand behind her, placing it with painful familiarity on the curve of her hip and bringing her firmer to his body. Thankful to the darkness and shadows that hid them from the prying eyes. His heart drumming loudly against his chest, yearning to kiss her... to touch her... to love her openly. But knowing that it isn’t the option. At least not now... not with her... probably not ever.

“Tate...,” she murmured. Her speech was a little bit blurry as was her vision, but the way she uttered his name so gently, so breathlessly, it just made him want to smile at how adorable she looked. And he tried not to, but failed. Her next words came as a loud conspiracy whisper that almost choked a laugh out of him. “If we danced really really close, you’d be able to protect me from all angles.” And when she swayed, tripping over her stiletto heels, his arms automatically tensed on her hips not letting her to fall, causing her to smile wider and whisper even louder as if it was her plan all along. “Gotcha!”

“Are you trying to help me do my job, or distract me from it?” Tatum chuckled softly, already knowing the answer, itching to brush away the strands of hair that fell onto her eyes and the ones she tried unsuccessfully to blow off. Feeling how his heart swelled with so much love and tenderness that he was sure it would burst in half. Trying not to wrap his arms around her even firmer and sway under the soft slow melody.

“Maybe a little bit of both,” she laughed noticing how a smile flickered across his face, before it was gone so quickly that if she wasn’t watching him she would most definitely miss it. Her head fell to the wall with a dreamy sigh, while he scanned a room for any sign of danger. “You should loosen up, Tatum. You are so on-edge all the time, even when we...,” she said almost blurting out the f*** word, but stopping just in time to catch the warning in his gaze. And it made her so hot, that she almost lost it as this exactly what she would love to do right about now. How much she would want it... and she could see in his eyes that he would want it no less.

“Claire, we spoke about this... I have to be. I have to keep you safe. This is my job. You are my job,” he sighed, turning his head to her after scanning the room for anyone who may watch them to speak.

“Tate, look around. There are bouncers at the doors, bodyguards are everywhere, and most of the people here are from Vancross. Nothing’s gonna to happen. And my mother...”

“...will be here tomorrow for Parents’ Weekend. So we cannot risk it,” sighed Tatum. “You know I would risk everything for you, but… for now we need to be careful. I know she is your mother, but…,” he sighed again heavily. His hand gently rested on her hip as if glued there, not able to move it away... not wanting to move it. Leaning a little bit closer, after checking the room and leaving a small kiss to her shoulder before stepping aside.

“...but you are afraid that she may do something to me and you will lose me for good,” whispered Claire. “I know. I know and I… I understand. But you were the one telling me that I deserve to unwind...”

“And we did... twice,” he pointed out, trying not to smile smugly at the memory and also to make her smile as well.

“Tatum, I’m serious,” she said, feeling how a blush coloured her cheeks. “When was the last time you relaxed? Like for real...”

“An hour or so ago,” he murmured leaning closer to her, turning his body so it would shield her from anyone. Watching how her cheeks turned even brighter colour, and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. Unwittingly creating the most beautiful and most distracting view he had ever seen.

“Stop it. I’m serious, Tate. When?” Her eyes softly focused on him watching how his brows furrowed in concentration, trying to find this one memory when he was relaxed. This one memory when he finally could stop being a soldier or ex-military or her bodyguard and be just him... Tatum.

“Okay... okay, point taken. I guess... I was at the family barbecue last year. My cousin, Rico, challenged me to see who could down the most tequila shots. I got way too drunk, but I had fun,” remembered Tatum with a smile, feeling how Claire’s body shifted slightly toward his. His hands flexed trying to overcome the temptation to wrap them around Claire’s body. Feeling how the familiar feeling of warmth and calm washed over him. The one, he always felt whenever she was near him.

“Soooo what? It was like a year ago, just after you got honourably discharged from the army,” asked Claire curiously before placing her hands on the bar and hopping on top. Tatum could feel how the heat started to crawl up his neck, while his eyes followed the perfect shape of her legs, thankful for the dark that hid them from anyone’s eyes. Looking how her red dress bunched up at her hips.

“I don’t have many opportunities these days to just go wild,” he shrugged, trying to ignore the pull in his balls and the hardness that didn’t go away from the moment he saw her on the dance floor or even earlier if he would be honest with himself.

“We could always make more opportunities. And today would be a good start,” Claire murmured, leaning closer to him. Her eyes at the same level as his and he was so tempted... so... so tempted. And by the look in her eyes he could see, that she was tempted no less.

“I guess... it wouldn’t hurt to relax a little. But only as long as you promise to stay close and to be cautious. We don’t need any rumours to reach President Montgomery’s ears,” finally said Tatum, his hands on the both sides of her, their fingers almost touching in the darkness and he could feel how the barely restrained desire to press his forehead to hers washed over him. And he groaned... groaned in this low sexy growl that set her body ablaze... making her want him every damn time, making her squirm under his gaze. He could feel how her body shifted just slightly toward the edge of the bar. Shifting the way that made him stand between her legs, and her hips pressing his, just tiny bit harder but enough to be a torture for him.

“I promise. But I need us... to be just us. Not the President’s daughter and her bodyguard, but just us... regular persons. Like we pretended to be many years ago. Please... Just like old times, seven shots and a round or two of pool game, and then I promise I’ll leave you to do your work...,” whispered Claire taking a quick look around before hastily pressing her lips to Tatum’s in a chaste kiss, the one he willingly returned.

“...for you? Anything,” he murmured against her lips. The glimpse of a soft smile touching his lips before he pulled away, helping her slide from the bar.

Without a second thought Claire grabbed Tatum’s hand and led him to the working bar on another side of the club. Her hips were swaying in tact with music while she walked. Their finger intertwined so they wouldn't lose each other in the crowd, and she looked so happy and carefree for the first time in weeks that just for a moment Tatum let her have it. Watching her flag down the bartender.

“Four shots of tequila, please,” announced Claire with a wide smile, while taking a seat on a high stool, swaying slightly toward Tatum.

“Wait,” tried to stop her Tatum, while his arms came to her waist instantly, helping her to sit straight. “Are you sure that you can handle even one?” he asked carefully, but regretted it the same instance, when she leaned into him, tipping her face up and he couldn’t do anything else but to watch her.

“Tatum Mendoza, is it a challenge?” asked Claire with a cocked brow.

“No... Never,” chuckled Tatum, shaking his head in amusement. “I know you better, than willingly walking into the trap. And here I’m so distracted by you, that I almost did just that,” he whispered. His voice, a deep sexy rumble against her ear, the one that made her shiver in his arms. His hands still on her hips before he let go sliding to the stool next to her.

“You know, I’m not so drunk,” she laughed, tipping her head back, letting out the genuine laugh the one he didn’t hear since walking back into her life

“Yes, but you are drunk enough to do something we both may regret later if we will get caught.”

“And what is it, may I ask?”

“You may not,” replied Tatum, trying to hide his smile. His hand placed on the top of the bar, moving it slightly closer to Claire’s, feeling the warmth of her fingers next to his. And he could feel the heat of her hip pressed to his, making it impossible for him to concentrate or to be serious. The smile involuntarily breaking through his stony mask the known effect Claire always made on him, and he sighed longing for her already. Hating this obligatory distance they needed to keep in public. Even when they yearned nothing else but to hold each other. Even if it seemed that it’s safe not to hide.

“How about a toast?” asked Claire, pulling Tatum out of his thoughts. And he felt how she gently slid the drink toward him, brushing her fingers lightly against his.

“To what?”

“To us,” whispered Claire so softly that the sound of her reply almost got lost in a loud music above them. And her lips curved in a warm smile, the one he couldn’t resist but return.

“I’ll drink for that. And also to picking up where we left off. For finally finding the way for us...,” he spoke, raising his glass in a salute.

“For finding the way,” echoed Claire, clinking glasses together and down the drinks.

Tatum chuckled as Claire’s lips reflectively puckered, while he didn’t even wince, downing his.

“Still can’t handle tequila, huh?” he asked with an amused smile.

“Not true, I just... I just have specific taste,” she replied with a laugh.

“I still remember this one time, when you were eleven and sneaked a sip of your mother’s margarita. You made the exact same face,” he said softly. The happy memory of them washed over him, while he locked his gaze with Claire. From the corner of his eyes he could see how the small drop of tequila ran out of the corner of her lips, and he couldn’t help it but watch how it made a tiny trail down her jaw. But before it could make its way lower he caught it with his thumb and then without tearing his gaze from hers he licked it from the tip of his finger. They both could feel the familiar pull toward each other, the same one they couldn’t ignore this morning or the one only few hour later or the one that made them almost late to this celebratory night out, but this time before they lips could even met they heard an eruption of rowdy group cheers at another side of the club.

“What’s going on over there,” asked Claire curiously standing on tiptoes and craning her neck to see better, but still not able to see past the crowd.

“It seems Blaine’s ass ones again gets kicked in the pool game,” smirked Tatum, sitting back on his stool and looking smugly at Claire.

“Shush. Be nice, his ego suffered enough after my rejection and after I won a couple of games... or five,” spoke Claire with a soft chuckle, placing her hand on top of Tatum’s, watching how his eyes shined with pride. “So... Game of pool?” asked Claire with the glint in her eyes. “I have seen you eyed that pool table for hours before I came over. I bet you are dying to play.”

“I eyed you, not a table. But... let’s do it,” said Tatum with a genuine smile, before helping her down from her stool. His hands wrapped around her waist for a moment before his lips pressed to her forehead tenderly, lingering there for a moment longer before kissing her gently to the tip of her nose, and then finally... finally pressing them to her lips, whispering against them softly. “I hope you are prepared for your ass to get kicked.” Still thankful for the darkness to cover them, when their lips finally met for a passionate all consuming kiss.

Tagging:  @jamespotterthefirst @choices-bound @sophxwithers @openheartthot​ @ramseysrookiex​ @shaylan211 @annekebbphotography​ @boneandfur​ @mercury84choices​ @xxrainbow-princessxx​ @k2624​ @sophxwithers

[voltage-vixen]

Fandom: Kissed by the Baddest Bidder (Voltage) Pairing: Koichi Samejima x MC (Female) Note: So this turned out way longer that I had anticipated. 😅 I apologize in advance for the length. I also wanted to say thank you for requesting this because I love the mob babies and would love to see more content for them!

Koichi Samejima:

·       Even though Samejima has already taken you on a countless number of dates, he treats every single one like the first time since he cherishes the time you get to spend together.

·       Samejima would never let on to it, but he’s actually very excited for each of your your dates to the point where he’s spent hours upon hours researching only the most suitable dating destinations to take you to.

·       The night before he’s up all night anxiously planning out topics of conversation, what type of flowers he’s going to present you with and rehearses different topics of talking points to avoid any potential lag in conversation.

·       The day of your date Samejima promptly arrives ten minutes early. When you open the door his first impression is that you look absolutely breathtaking. He would quickly avert his gaze away to avoid blushing as he mumbled out a compliment and shoved the bouquet of flowers into your hands.

·       Once you finished placing the bouquet of flowers safely into a vase, Samejima laces his fingers between yours and pulls you out the door as the date officially begins while he leads you.

·       His pace is set to match yours, and Samejima gives your hand the occasional squeeze as the pad of his thumb traces the lines of your fingers.

·       Despite having reservations at a nearby couple’s café to share a bite of the newest mystery parfait Samejima booked after seeing you longingly eye an advertisement for, he decides to take a detour through the park since he knows how much you always revel in the sights and sounds of the alluring scenery.

·       The moment you two step foot into the park, Samejima’s shoulders drop in relief as you break into a soft smile at the sight of the flowers blooming tall near the grand fountain in the center of the plaza.

·       “We still have some time to spare before our first stop. Would you like to take a closer look?”

·       Without a care in the world that the two of you are out in public, you vigorously shake your head up and down and race over giddy to admire the view of the flowers up close.

·       Samejima chuckles while approaching you. He’s captivated by the way your eyes seem to be twinkling even brighter than usual.

·       The young mobster finds his hand drawn to the side of your cheek. His gentle touch leaves you yearning for more.

·       You abandon the flowers to rise to your feet, leaning into the warmth of Samejima’s embrace. He delicately tucks the curls of your hair behind your ear.

·       Your dress is swaying in the light wind, and the cool breeze brushes against the heat of your cheeks as you await to welcome Samejima as he inches closer to your face.

·       Closer and closer, the distance between your bodies begins to fade away. You’re lost in his alluring gaze-the scene so perfect it could only be described as one found in a fairytale movie.

·       You part your lips ready to connect with Samejima until-

·       “JASMINE, COME BACK HERE!”

·       The all-too-familiar voice of Inui loudly booms across the park, forcing Samejima and you apart as the once ambient environment was now replaced with frantic shouting and loud barking as Inui chased after a playful Jasmine who had decided that she was going to take her own ‘walk’ today.

·       “You, idiot!” Your boyfriend yells, sighing in disbelief at both how stupid Inui was and for having his precious alone time with you interrupted.

·       “Now is not the time, we have to help him!” You shout. Before you even have the chance to react, you feel a heavy weight crash into you, followed by a big SPLASH that rings into the air.

·       Jasmine had come tumbling into you and knocked you straight into the fountain!

·       You don’t even have an opportunity to lift your head up from underneath the chilliness of the water, because you immediately find yourself being pulled out and wrapped into the recognizable arms of Samejima.

·       He cuddles you close to keep you warm, and you eagerly nuzzle against his chest. His expression is coated with concern, and his eyes flash to ask if you are okay. You give a small nod to reassure him and are about to thank him for rescuing you when Inui’s voice breaks in from the background.

·       “Princess, are you alright? I’m so so so so so so so so so sorry!”

·       Inui is about to reach out towards you, but Samejima doesn’t hesitate to smack it away.

·       “You’ve done enough for today. I’ll deal with you later.” Samejima coolly replies, before turning around to head back to your place.

·       He can’t recall the last time he’s ever been this upset and he’s shaking on the inside. Truthfully, he wants nothing more than to attack Inui, but his main priority is getting you home and drying you off before you catch a cold.

·       On the way home, you can tell Samejima is upset by the stoic expression on his face. You want to comfort him and let him know you truly are fine, but you’re surprised to find you are already back at your apartment.

·       He carefully places you down on the couch, then he leaves for the bathroom to run you a nice hot bath.

·       Although he tried to hide it, you still caught a glimpse of the disappointment in his face. Samejima was always so hard on himself despite your constant reminders of how fortunate you were to have him as a boyfriend.

·       There was no doubt in your mind that Samejima was stewing in the bathroom and blaming himself for today’s unfortunate mishap.

·       You swiftly rise from the couch and join him in the powder room where you see him staring blankly into the now full tub.

·       You rush into the room behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, encompassing him tightly into your grasp.

·       “No matter what it is we do, or where it is we go, I can always count on having a good time when I’m with you. I love you and I love spending time with you. Even if we lived in a box together, you would still be number one in my heart.”

·       Your lips press trail light kisses onto his back until he turns around and cradles your chin with his hands.

·       “It’s not that I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t help but wanting to ensure perfection when I’m around you. Thanks for helping me understand that you accept me as I am….though you really should raise your standards if you would find living in a box suitable.”

·       You playfully tap his chest and scoff in a feigned annoyance. Samejima sneaks in for a tickle attack and then stealthy reaches for the buttons on the fabric of your top to unfasten them while you’re distracted from the onset of giggles from being tickled.

·       “Take off your clothes otherwise you’ll get sick. I would hate to see you in that state.”

·       Locking your eyes with his, you draw your hands up to assist his with your top and seductively bat your eyelashes.

·       “Only if you join me.”

·       Those words elicited a stunned gasp from your boyfriend. This wouldn’t be the first time you two have bathed together, but each time Samejima’s reaction is boyishly innocent and you find it becomes more adorable as time goes on.

·       Although Samejima is bashful, he’s also never turned down an invitation from you and today wasn’t about to mark the start of that.

·       He nods his consent and the pair of you explore the surface of each other’s body as you help each other undress.

·       You climb into the heat of the water together, sighing in content to finally be infused with warmth.

·       Samejima settles you between his muscular thighs as your head naturally falls back onto his chest.

·       While Samejima appears lean, his body is cut in all the right places and you find yourself nestling deeper into him as his fingers masterfully massage your scalp.

·       Drowning in feelings of Samejima’s affections, your body succumbs to his caresses and you find yourself melting into him.

·       It doesn’t matter whether you stay in or go out, a date with Samejima is exactly that-a date with Samejima. Any time with him is well spent and a beloved commodity you wouldn’t give up for anything in the world.

[notgalaxii]

Another Another Cinderella Story || Part One || Diavolo x Fem!MC

Hey guys! I'm sorry this one took so long for me to put out, I was so busy this week! I got a job and I just finished my virtual training but I was working on this with every free moment I had!! This will be part 1 most likely out of 3. Thank you all so much for reading and continuing to request amazing ideas such as these!!

Request Prompt: A Cinderella Story with Diavolo and a Fem!MC.

Word Count: 1.9k

    “You will not be attending the event, MC. Powerful demons will be swarming the castle and I can’t have my eyes on you at all times,” Lucifer’s words echoed through her head like her footsteps echoed through Purgatory Hall. After Diavolo had extended an invite to MC and all of the demon brothers to go to a masquerade, Lucifer had shut her down. He shut down what would probably be the best night of her life in the devildom. He shut down the mere possibility of her enjoying herself, looking better than she could have ever dreamed of, swaying with a beautiful stranger in her elegant ball gown. He shut down the possibility of her smile illuminating with the light flickering off of the chandeliers.  She had stormed off to go find someone else who she knew wouldn’t be going to the dance so that she could vent. MC knew very well that Lucifer was just looking out for her, but she didn’t know whether it was because he cared or because Diavolo would have his head if his exchange student was eaten. Sometimes Beelzelbub would try to reassure her that Lucifer really does care, but is too prideful to admit it. 

    “MC? Didn’t think you’d stop by here, I half expected you to be in a gown right now,” Solomon’s cocky smile played on his lips as he opened the door.

    “Lucifer didn’t let me go,” she brashly elaborated. A glimmer of shock seeped into his eyes before he pulled the door open just enough for her frame to slip through. MC immediately slumped onto the nearest seat once entering.

    “What was the noble excuse this time?” Solomon teased as he sat on his bed across from her, “Place your bets now, ladies and gents, does it have to do with Diavolo’s displeasure? Or, would it perhaps be about the tasks Diavolo assigned you?” 

    “Powerful demons will be swarming the castle and he can’t have me in his sight at all times. Oh, how disappointed Lord Diavolo would be if he finds his precious exchange student eaten by a demon! Lucifer would have to give him extra foot rubs after that, obviously,” MC mocked in her best posh tone, “What about you? Why aren’t you going?”

    “Too many demons I made a pact with are there and a few of them can’t stand each other. As much as I would love to see that go down, I would unfortunately be roped into the middle of it,” he sighed deeply.

    “Funny, I bet you would’ve absolutely adored causing some chaos at a noble event,” MC snickered as she crossed her legs. She had always known Solomon to be extremely mischievous. Just about every time he had used his powers around her, it was either to just “see what happens,” or to purposely mess with someone. However, there had been a few times where he’s gotten her out of some pretty sticky situations with his magic. 

    “There’s still a way, of course,” a playful smile reached up to Solomon’s lips, twisting the corners.

    “Bingo,” MC chuckled, “I was waiting for you to say something like that.”

    “And this way involves you actually being able to go without Lucifer on your tail,” one of his eyebrows quirked in her direction.

    “Oh? I’m listening,” she leaned in closer to him as if it would help her pay attention.

    “What better mask than an entirely new face?” Solomon inquired.

    “You shady bitch, I love you,” a bright smile stretched across her face. Solomon stood up and held his hand out to her for her to grab. When she did, he guided her over to a shelf full of spell books.

    “Satan let me borrow this book, there’s a spell in here that will completely change your appearance for the next  five hours. This means that when the clock strikes midnight, you’ll be back to your current form,” he elaborated, flipping through the pages of a large, dark green book.

    “This is nice and all, but I don’t even have anything to wear-”

    “Leave that to me too, I’ve spent enough time with Asmodeus to know how to make someone look good,” Solomon chuckled before putting his finger on a specific passage, “ Here it is, are you ready? I’ve never used this spell before, but I’m sure I can do it.”

    MC contemplated her choices for a moment. She knew that if it was Solomon casting the spell, there was almost no way that she could get caught. The only possible way she could think of was not being able to scurry out of the castle before midnight hits. Potential consequences of her actions raced through her head. MC knew better than to defy Lucifer but he was so irritating. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be livid if he found out.

    Yet, what would happen if he didn’t find out? What would happen if she spent the night glissading across the ballroom floor, arm in arm with a handsome or perhaps beautiful stranger? She could have the night of her life, but it all depended on how much attention she paid to the time. 

    “Do it, Solomon. I’m ready," MC abruptly blurted after a few moments of silence. The next thing she knew, she was being enveloped in a waft of black smoke. It swirled around her vehemently, growing thicker with every ancient word that slipped Solomon's tongue. 

    Once the smoke began to settle and fade away, MC looked down at her hands. Her skin tone was a few shades darker than usual, her nails resembling long and sharp talons. Trailing up her arms, she saw the wavy lilac hair cascading down her shoulders like a mystical waterfall. 

    "That turned out better than expected, you look beautiful, MC" a small, cocky smirk creeped its way back up onto Solomon's expression. 

    "Thank you, is my face any different?" MC quizzed. In place of a reply, he gestured to a mirror near the door. Her face was indeed different. Her eyes sparkled a vibrant and almost intense green, her lips were slightly fuller than previously, her nose a bit smaller. They were the smallest changes but when they were all put together, she was a completely different person.

    Without warning, the smoke had returned to swirl around her body yet again, this time leaving her head peeking out. It left a crimson red ball gown to wrap her torso, coming down in a sweetheart neckline to show off her collarbone, the skirt slightly flaring out at her hips. The fabric was light and airy, allowing her to move with ease. 

    "You gonna turn a pumpkin into a carriage too, fairy godmother?" MC teased. 

    "No, but we are going to do something with that hair," Solomon scoffed, pulling the hair tie off of her wrist and beginning to take her hair into sections. He parted the top half of her hair up, twisting it into an intricately braided bun. Before letting her look back into the mirror, he pulled out a few strands to dangle in the front. 

    "Tricks from Asmo?"

    "You could say that," he smiled, placing a hand on her lower back, "Alright, get out of here and have fun. Set an alarm on your D.D.D. okay? 23:50 pm, get heading out when it goes off."

    MC nodded enthusiastically and thanked him for his support before grabbing a mask he had summoned. It was a bit of a trip to the castle, taking thirty minutes off of the spell. She had only been to Diavolo's castle once before, it was when she made her pact with Asmodeus and Solomon used his magic on her for the first time. Diavolo was quite the character in her eyes, although she hadn't known much about him besides that Lucifer was his little lap dog. He was charming, certainly, and seemed pretty kind for a Demon Prince. She thought it was special how he wished to construct a path between all three realms. After all, that path is what gave her the opportunity to make new friends and learn about new cultures. 

    The large, elegant piece of architecture was indeed swarming with demons, just as Lucifer had predicted. They were all dressed head to toe in formal attire, a few letting their horns, wings, and tails come out. MC carefully put her mask on and fixed her posture before striding into the house. Not many demons shyed from giving her strange looks. Large, crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, illuminating the faces of all of them, especially one in particular, Asmodeus. Oh no.

    “Oh, hello there!~ I haven’t seen your face in the Devildom before, who might you be?” his sweet voice chimed with seductive notes lingering in the air. MC noticed the way his sunset gaze deepened immediately. He was trying to charm her, and she couldn’t let that happen. Asmodeus’ powers never worked on her and he would be devastated if they didn’t work on this random stranger. 

    “H-hi! I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I-I need to use the restroom,” MC sputtered out, but it didn’t seem like Asmo was taking no for an answer. She was now locked to him.

    “Your voice sounds so familiar. It’s very soothing, you know? Come, doll. I’ll escort you to the restroom,” he coaxed her with a warming smile. Knowing she wouldn’t win the battle of trying to run away from the Avatar of Lust without upsetting him, MC nodded in agreement. 

    Asmodeus guided her to the restroom and left her off at the door before giving a small wink and fading into the mass. She sighed with relief and walked into the restroom. Taking a glance in the mirror, MC re-evaluated her situation. Now she knew that her voice would still be the same, she wasn’t able to know anyone at this masquerade, and she still resembled a human, she felt like this wasn’t such a good idea. The brother’s most likely wouldn’t protect her if she got in a trifle, now that she lingers on the thought.

    A knock on the restroom door broke her thoughts. After sorting herself out, MC did her best to maintain her composure as she walked out. Even more demons were giving her looks this time around, a few of them even mumbling about her as she walked by. Asmodeus probably started to talk about the encounter to some of his “fans,” as he calls them. 

    Time began to run itself down the drain as MC consumed a few drinks and chatted with the passing strangers that prompted a conversation with her. Asmodeus made his way back to talk to her at one point and even tried to dance with her, but she was still scared of him finding out she couldn’t be charmed so she politely declined.

    “I’m a little bit too tipsy, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to step all over your toes,” she chuckled. Asmo understood, surprisingly and it wasn’t long before he wandered off to try to charm the next beautiful face he saw walking by. A few moments later, yet another hand tapped MC’s shoulder, beckoning her to turn around. She half expected it to be Asmodeus, but it was instead Barbatos, Diavolo’s poised butler. 

    “Lord Diavolo has requested for you to be his first dance partner of the night. Please, follow me.”

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 13: The Shadows

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

The Awakening Ball turns upside-down when Ferals attack. Nadya goes into hiding with new friends... and ends up finding an old one along the way.

[READ IT ON AO3]

When the penthouse door opens in the other room Nadya’s still awake.

She looks at the clock — worries her bottom lip between her teeth as 02:59 changes to 03:00 right on cue. Arches her back to flip her hair over her shoulder and shake it out. Either this will go surprisingly spectacularly or it will be her largest failure to date.

Either way Nadya knows better than to expect anything to go according to plan. Especially something as important as this.

Nature sets the stage for her; flashes an arc of lightning across the sky that gives her a backlight against the large glass wall that serves as Kamilah’s bedroom window… right as Kamilah herself enters the doorway.

The vampire stares in statuesque silence; looks Nadya’s naked body up and down on the smooth canvas of her maroon duvet.

Twenty seconds pass — thunder rumbles in the distance.

“Have you anything to say to accompany your… spontaneous decision?” Kamilah finally asks.

Nadya bears down all her nerves and slides her hand over her midriff.

“I’m tired of waiting?”

It comes out less a declaration and more a question; makes Nadya curse herself mentally when Kamilah’s full lips quirk in amusement.

“Are you telling me, or asking?”

“Telling you.”

“Is that your final answer?”

There’s no hiding the way her flush starts at her cheeks and goes all the way down her body. How her toes curl at half-formed thoughts of what’s to come when she realizes she’s being toyed with.

So she tries again; “I’m tired of waiting, Kamilah.”

Every step the woman takes towards the bed is slow and purposeful agony. Nadya watches her nostrils flare and dares to imagine in the darkness of the room that Kamilah can taste her arousal on the tip of her wicked tongue.

“Such a daring little thing, aren’t you?” Her voice grows husky as she trails two fingertips along Nadya’s prone jaw; follows the movement with her eyes as they travel down her neck, tickle her collarbone, skirt around the curve of her breast. Nadya opens her mouth to respond but the finger over her lips has other plans.

“Speaking requires permission, now. Do you understand?”

Somehow Nadya’s body manages to break out in even more thrills. She nods once and earns a proper smile in reward.

“There will be no crude word choice to act as a symbol,” Kamilah purrs, “should you wish to stop, simply say ‘stop.’ Do you understand?”

Her second nod earns Nadya the press of a finger against her bottom lip; the nail catching on her front teeth as Kamilah slides it along her tongue. Nadya sucks on the digit with eager obedience. Marvels at the sudden black that envelops the eyes of the woman before her that mean only one thing: arousal.

They maintain eye contact like breaking it would kill them both. The room, hot and heavy against the summer night, echoes empty with nothing but the wet noises of Nadya’s desperation to please, to encourage.

She actually whines when Kamilah draws her hand back. Catches herself leaning forward and she has to stop herself, adjust her hips and the pooling lava in her belly. There should be an actual award for the restraint she shows by not moaning the temptress’ name.

Some stuff definitely happens in the interim but Nadya’s brain must have flicked off in between then and now. Her mind has certain priorities and at the moment the largest one is the way Kamilah’s naked body hovers over hers, holds her arms up above her head… the dichotomy between the cold body and its startlingly warm mouth.

“Hnnhgh…” It would be great if Kamilah would shove something in her mouth to erase the temptation of talking — but that would be too easy.

“Remember your place, Nadya.”

Kamilah lowers her attentions in breathless kisses scattered around her middle. Nips with blunted teeth and hot breath that tickles thin dark hairs she wanted to hide but now is glad for — just more of her for Kamilah to bask in.

She drinks from the well of Nadya’s skin like it’s the Nile — haha, punny — and she’s been lost in the desert. And just when she thinks her eyes have gotten used to the darkness, to the faint outline of Kamilah’s seduction, the storm outside blinds her in a flash.

And Kamilah definitely takes the opportunity to surprise her with a kiss somewhere new; somewhere exciting.

Nope, she can’t do it. Can’t stay still or quiet any longer — not when she’s finally getting the thing she wants most in the entire world. Not when she’s finally with the person she wants most in the entire world.

“Kamilah!” Nadya gasps — like a trigger pulled Kamilah is suddenly gone. It makes her whine and writhe upon the silken bed. Turns her grasp on the iron-wrought headboard into white knuckles and sweaty palms.

The world around them is dark — too dark. Nadya squints towards the window but the New York skyline has gone black as the void.

In the distance the clouds part to the light of the full moon. Too far to objectify, too far to bring her comfort. But somehow close enough to bathe Kamilah’s bedroom in an ethereal lunar glow.

Nadya barely stifles her gasp as Kamilah comes into view atop her. Straddling her frame on either side of the bed but easily avoiding touch. Thank god she’s still there.

She peels her hands from above her; reaches out to wreathe her fingers in honey-brown hair.

“There you are…”

The smile with which the vampire looks down at her is soft; affectionate. Doesn’t last long enough when it begins to melt like a glacier into a twisted snarl of ravenous fangs and a predator’s blood-red eyes.

“Here I am.” Croons whatever monster is left in Kamilah’s image; inhabiting her body like a shell.

The air grows cold around them; chills the sweat dripping down her prone body until she’s shaking on the verge of collapse.

Nadya tries to look around, tries to understand, but Kamilah’s hand grasps at her chin on the cusp of painful — holds her gaze upwards.

Something isn’t right. “Kamilah…?”

As Kamilah opens her mouth to speak another hand — pale, masculine, calloused and almost like stone — brushes Nadya’s hair from her forehead.

She tries to scream but the hand moves down to her throat. Makes her watch as a familiar face of impeccable beauty and devastating monstrosity looms down at her just over Kamilah’s shoulder.

“Is my Queen not the most divine?” asks the Man from the Painting. His smile is more than just a vampire’s — every single tooth a pointed fang.

She can’t scream. Not when she watches him—Gaius—kiss Kamilah’s temple above her. Not when his hand presses onto her trachea with ease. Not when both vampires descend in a blur of violence on either side of her neck.

Not when the moonlight grows in the room to illuminate the piles of corpses littered around the bedroom floor.

It’s the kind of nightmare that should send her jumping back to consciousness with a racing heart and those bleary moments trying to make some sort of connection with the physical world.

Maybe she does jump — her heart is definitely racing fast enough — but Nadya knows without a doubt she’s awake. Not only because it was impossible for that to have been anything but a dream, but because the world she wakes up to isn’t all that much better.

No one comes rushing to see if she’s all right. Not just because she doesn’t know anyone — because she does. Looks across the narrow aisle of the coach car where Greer cradles the larger form of his partner in his arms.

Tear tracks in their makeup run down their cheeks. There’s something powdery in Brandon’s hair. Ash — realizes Nadya too late, and her stomach heaves yet again to try and empty itself but there’s nothing left to throw up.

Compared to the rest of the passengers Nadya’s pretty darn okay. Unharmed — if shaken. Intact — if covered in the blood of others. Alive — if struggling to fully grasp that concept.

She’s alive. And that’s better than could be said for Megan.

A figure blocks her view of the boys and she looks up to see a younger girl, probably no more than sixteen, offering her a small bag of snack chips.

She carries the box tucked under her arm. A new sound joins the choir of weeping the train has been chugging along to; the rustle of plastic bags and processed junk being eaten not for enjoyment but for survival.

Nadya takes the bag — gestures silently across the way and the girl gives an understanding nod when she gives her Brandon and Greer’s shares. My condolences, says the misty shimmer of her young eyes. But she moves on to the row behind Nadya. Keeps going. Keeps doing good.

There must have been a group that raided the food cars because after her they just keep coming. Some offer sandwiches; frequently groups of two and three bring around water bottles and tiny paper cups of hot tea.

Near the front of the car Nadya looks to see a couple scouring over a trembling young man. Checking his arms, neck; any exposed skin. They coax him to turn and that’s when Nadya catches sight of his fangs.

“A-Am I clean?” stumbles the vampire when the couple finally pull away. They nod and open the passage door.

“Remember to take only what will get you to tomorrow.” One of them warns. The door closes behind the vampire loudly.

It’s all absolutely awful. The empty seats scream of casualties in a number Nadya doesn’t even want to comprehend right now.

But the sight of people — some vampires, some humans, all people — coming together to try and do what they can… it brings back just a little bit of light in the world.

Everyone exits the train like the beginning of a strange foreign film; both outside of time and within it. Those who wore modern costumes don’t have to worry about standing out but Nadya can’t exactly take the subway in a dress not only half the size of a row of seats but also torn, matted; stained with blood.

“You’ll fit right in,” says the Lily-voice in her head, but she doesn’t even want to risk it.

She wants to go home. Realizes with a strange numbness that she really has no home to go to. She can’t see Nicole being hospitable without Adrian at her back and while the thought of Gerard comforting her with a cup of hot chocolate makes her legs go to jelly it feels wrong. Wrong to just… go there without them.

Nadya has to lean against a nearby column to steady herself as all the terrible horrible what ifs try again to push against the door she’s slammed them behind. She clasps the Clan Sayeed charm between her clammy palms and actually prays.

“Nadya, pet, c’mon — we can’t stay here.”

She looks up and hastily wipes away her tears at the sight of Brandon and Greer approaching hand-in-hand. It feels wrong to cry in front of them. At least she can have hope those she cares about will return.

“Brandon — I —”

He shakes his head and Nadya falls silent. Reaches out with his free hand; she takes it in both of hers and tries not to think about the sight of Megan going grey underneath their touch.

“I know,” he says through a voice thick with pain, “and thank you. But this place is going to be barren soon.”

At a quick glance she sees he’s right; the train is already preparing to depart and the survivors leave in hasty groups. Some head towards the nearby parking complex while others step into cabs and hired cars that pull onto the nearby road in a trail of burning rubber.

“Where will you go?” she asks; contemplates the sobering thought of not being alone by offering them the apartment she isn’t even sure she has keys for any longer.

Brandon pulls his hand away and produces his phone from his breast pocket. Starts typing on the screen furiously. The backlight illuminates his face with an eerie blue glow; makes it easier to see the tears he’s trying desperately not to shed. His hands are shaking. Greer is there to steady them.

“Our flight back overseas isn’t for a few days,” Greer laments, “but while we were in town we were staying with some friends. Group of vampires living on the low — an old flame of… of hers.” He doesn’t say Megan’s name. It’s still too painful.

She wants to warn them of the dangers of staying in the city without Council approval — remembers then that there might not even be a Council anymore.

But it’s enough that they have a place to go. “Good. I’ll stay with you until they can pick you up.”

The couple exchange somber glances. Greer pulls her against him and kisses the top of her head.

“Not happenin’, pet. You’re coming with us.”

“No, no I have somewhere to go.”

“Do you, though?”

He probably doesn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it does but the words sting enough; make Nadya flinch against him. “They’ll come back. They have to.”

“And I hope they do,” Greer clarifies, “but until they do — or don’t — I don’t like the thought of you on your own.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“In a big dress.” Brandon comments quietly. It’s enough to make them all smile even if for a moment.

He pockets his phone. “Alright, she said her boss is on his way.”

“Ooh, good. I could use a bit of eye candy right now.”

There may not be as much heart in the way Greer says it but it eases the tension from everyone’s shoulders.

They wait together inside the midnight ride section of the station. It’s just a couple of plastic chairs and a closed coffee cart but it’s not standing outside and being questioned about what they’re wearing, who they are, or what happened to them.

Nadya’s finding it harder and harder to stay awake. Now that the tumultuous emotions and fear-fueled adrenaline of their escape has passed through her she feels hollow; like a being of exhaustion wearing her face for a mask.

Then she remembers the last look back. The sight of Kamilah wrenching a large executioner’s axe from the grasp of a suit of armor and vanishing into the fray — of Adrian holding two hulking Ferals back by the necks with their grotesque fangs just inches from his face.

And she isn’t tired anymore.

Brandon’s fallen asleep on her shoulder when their ride finally shows. A dirty beaten van with rust creeping up from the undercarriage and ‘NORTHMUN & CO. PLUMBING’ in peeling letters on the side.

It definitely isn’t the scariest thing Nadya’s seen tonight but it sets off all her ‘Single Girl Alone in New York’ alarms and makes her wish she’d just sucked it up and called Gerard.

With a nudge and a soft “c’mon,” she helps Brandon up and together the three leave the stillness of the platform’s purgatory to head out into the big, bad world.

The van’s back door slides open; Greer helps her up and into a crumby leather seat. She moves a tool box and pile of oil-smeared rags onto the cluttered floor to give the boys space.

Only then does Brandon give himself the luxury of a relived sigh. He reaches out and knocks on the small dingy window between them and the front of the van. It slides open and the hand that Brandon takes in his has a strong grip and a strangely familiar voice.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Brandon.”

Brandon doesn’t acknowledge it. “Thank you for picking us up. I know it’s risky for you to be out like this.”

“Well, you were willing to wait until everyone was gone so…”

Nadya’s still trying to place the voice when the van groans to life and begins its journey towards the city.

“I only got the cliff notes of what happened,” the driver continues, “and I know it’ll be a tough talk to have — but we need to know the level of danger we’re in.”

Whether she can place the voice or not aside — Nadya’s really not a fan of the tone.

“I understand.”

“The sooner the better.”

Brandon looks almost guiltily at Greer. “Well, I was hoping we could rest first…”

“You can rest after. This isn’t just about you.”

“All right, nope.” Nadya manages to stand without immediately falling over into a pile of pipes strapped down to the van floor, holds herself up on a metal hook and smacks her flat palm on the driver’s side wall just beside the window.

She succeeds in startling the driver — but has to hold on when they swerve and straighten out.

“What the hell is your problem,” the man barks, “are you trying to get us killed?!”

“You need to shut up. He just lost his sister, you jerk. So how about you show a little compassion, I don’t think it’ll kill you!”

The van slows to a halt — the traffic signal’s red glow streams into the back. There’s the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling and as Nadya falls back into her little seat the driver half-turns to scorn her.

“Just who the hell do you — think… you are…”

Nadya has to take a second for her eyes to adjust. It’s easier when the light turns green behind the shadow of his head but she’s definitely seen his face before.

Judging by their reactions they recognize each other at the same time.

Jax’s jaw is set in a scowl that twitches his upper lip. She has to push down her surprise and the sudden rush of thoughts but Nadya takes a little pride in how quickly she meets him foot-first with her chin held high.

“Nadya.” He finally exhales, like she asked him or something, though she’s a little surprised he remembers her name after all this time.

“Chill out,” Nadya insists, “and give him some time to breathe.” To grieve.

Whatever else he’s going to say is drowned out by the first car horn that screams behind them. Followed by another, and another. Jax makes his decision and turns around; slams his foot on the gas so hard they jerk and the free-range equipment goes sliding to the back of the van.

At the next red light he stays up front. Does the same at the one after. Whatever argument they’ll get into has apparently been tabled. At least they have the drive to collect their thoughts.

There’s a hand on her knee and Nadya looks over to see Brandon offering her a tired — if relieved — smile. She takes his hand and squeezes.

They’ve been in a tunnel going on ten minutes when Jax finally turns and parks. He hops out of the front seat and there’s a brief second where the part of her that’s started to expect the worst at any given time thinks he’s abandoned them.

Then the back doors click unlocked and all three partygoers look to where Jax stands stoic.

“Come on. Let’s get you guys cleaned up.”

Brandon and Greer must have arrived by the same way of transport because they don’t wait for Jax to lead them down one of the several tunnel entrances they’ve parked beside.

The Clanless vampire offers Nadya a hand to help her down; she doesn’t take it.

But before she can follow her friends there’s a heavy hand holding her back. There’s definitely a part of her that channels Kamilah when she rounds on him with anger.

“Let. me. go.”

Jax’s narrowed eyes roam her up and down until he spots what he’s looking for. Grabs her wrist and holds it up to let Kamilah’s charm catch the floodlights above them.

“Where are your masters?” he practically spits.

She acts without thinking — yanks her hand away and smacks him across the face. Judging by the way he doesn’t flinch and the sting in her palm it definitely hurt her more than him but the satisfaction is worth it.

“My friends are risking their lives for the sake of yours.” Nadya hisses. It makes him growl.

“Bullshit. The Clans don’t give a damn about us.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that they’re out there fighting off a hundred Ferals; maybe more. Keeping them from getting to the city — from getting to the likes of you.”

Whatever retort Jax had lined up fades the moment he hears ‘Ferals.’ There’s just the tiniest chip in his bravado and Nadya glimpses justifiable horror before he manages to cover it up.

“A hund… but that’s not possible.”

“Yeah…” and remembering it all wilts her temporary confidence, “they thought that, too.”

When she tries again to head down the same pathway as the others Jax veers her off the course to a different tunnel.

“Where are we going?”

“They know the area. You don’t. This —” a sigh, “—this heads to the Plaza. And it’ll be easier for you to get your bearings so…”

It doesn’t make a whole lick of sense — not what he’s saying, she gets that — but all of this. Down wherever they are. It reminds her of those news clips of abandoned subway tunnels the city didn’t have the funds to refurbish.

Now that she thinks about it, that was a huge point of favor for Senator Vega’s re-election; his initiative to ‘clean up the city’ one tunnel at a time. Nadya, like most people, had let his strange wording go in one ear and out the other. But if that’s truly where they are…

“This is it—isn’t it,” Nadya asks, “this is where the Clanless are hiding out.”

“This is where we’re forced to cower. Where the Clans have forced us to barely live all because they refuse to acknowledge their system is a flawed one.”

Jax corrects her with an edge to his voice and she takes it for what it is — a silent demand to stop asking.

They round a corner and there’s a literal light at the end of the tunnel; dim and yellow in the way old lightbulbs were, accompanied by the smell of those seasonal walnut carts that stopped frequenting the streets in preparation for summer and ice cream.

The tunnel empties out into a bazaar — that’s the only word Nadya knows to compare it to. Not like those in movies filled with hagglers and their livestock trying to sell them under a strange alien sun but all cramped together; ramshackle stalls literally held in place by the skin of their teeth with rusty nails and old wooden planks rotting in some places.

To her left there’s a woman using exposed and collapsing pipes to hang blankets and clothes. Across the excuse for a path, a young duo with tattoos on every inch of skin show a yellowing booklet of designs to a middle-aged man sitting in an old barbershop chair.

The source of the sweet smell, Nadya sniffs to find, is exactly one of those celebratory carts at the end of a corner. The worker wipes sweat from her brow over the hot flames and churns walnuts in sugar and cinnamon in a beat-up wok.

All around her there is life. Life just as vibrant and busy as the streets above them.

“Watch your step.” Jax yanks her back as she goes forward — Nadya catches herself before she trips and falls into a railway gap.

She nods in thanks; still trying to take everything in. “Where are we?”

“An old spaghetti junction for the subway — abandoned after a construction collapse in the Eighties,” Jax points across the market to a crumbled section of the wall and ceiling; marked off with bright yellow police tape that’s been reapplied as many times as it has broken, “It’s served a good purpose. Everyone needs a place to congregate, to chat and meet new people. That’s how it started; just a place to talk. Talking helped some Turned relive their human memories and think of the things that made their life good. Distracted them from the tragedy.

“It kept them grounded; alive. Less chance of Turning Feral that way.”

The word makes her shudder but also see the place in a new light. None of the people around her — which was which, who was who, were they all vampires or were other humans here too? — had a Clan brand. They were all a risk.

Kamilah would be so mad; a thought that actually helps her breathe a little easier.

“I didn’t know there’d been, like, studies done on how that happens.”

“There haven’t. Come on.” Jax doesn’t wait or help her across the rail gap. Nadya struggles to keep up without her dress — and the state of her — getting in everyone’s way.

While they walk he continues; “Ferals are a taboo subject among most vampires. The thing everyone knows about but no one wants to mention. But if we ignore the problem how are we ever gonna find a solution?

“There are myths — pretty much the vampire equivalent of old wives’ tales — about things that can keep a newly Turned from going Feral in the crucial hours after.”

“Like what?”

“Well, blood from a loved one is said to help tether the soul to the body. It’s the first measure we take whenever possible.”

“And the success rate? Did you run trials? What about a control group and a testing group? What if —”

Jax rounds on her quickly. Startles an elderly man nearby but he doesn’t say anything, just huffs and mumbles under his breath. There isn’t even a trace of hunger in his eyes and Nadya comes to the quick conclusion that this guy is probably prone to lashing out.

“They’re people, not experiments! God, that’s the problem with you Clan types. So obsessed with your own wealth and status you don’t realize that a person is still a person even if they don’t have your precious little mark.”

And maybe she had been thinking about it like Adrian once described to her — that awful night she decided to ask about his previous assistant and learned of Adrian’s fight against the Feral problem through modern science over violence — but…

The fact that she can’t find an excuse that doesn’t sound like it was taken straight out of Adrian’s mouth doesn’t do much to affirm her convictions.

Jax takes her silence as a victory. Crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at her smugly.

“I figured you of all people — Clan pet or not — would care about the difference.”

Hands clenching into trembling fists at her sides; before Nadya can say anything Jax gives her his back to approach the woman with her clothes on the knot of pipes overhead.

She’s the kind of old that still looks beautiful; wears her age with grace and commands respect from it. Again Nadya is reminded of Kamilah and, again, her heart aches.

“Well if it isn’t old Mister Matsuo.” She teases; cups his cheek in a wrinkled palm and brushes a smudge of dirt away in a motherly fashion. “If you’re looking to win back your book you’ll have to wait — I can’t just pull away from a good day trading for your gambling problem.”

‘Gambling problem?’ Nadya mouths — has to hide her grin at the flustered way Jax one-arms the woman in a hug.

“Not this time, Evelyn. I was actually hoping for a favor.”

“Ha! Not likely. You owe me, remember?”

Jax huffs. “The favor isn’t mine.”

When they both look her way is when Nadya has her answer; Evelyn has a vampire’s unmistakable grace. She beckons an arthritic finger and gently takes Nadya’s hand.

“Welcome to the Shadow Den, dear,” Evelyn looks down at the blood stain on her abdomen, “I’m sure Jax here wouldn’t leave you hanging if you were hurt, so I’ll give my condolences to your dress.”

The Shadow Den. She keeps that in mind. “T-Thanks.”

“Think you have something her size?” asks Jax with his arms crossed over his chest.

Evelyn coaxes Nadya to turn this way and that; surveys the fabric with a clinical eye by grabbing her skirts and rifling through the folds.

She finally pulls back and tugs off several items from the overhead pipes, then hikes up her own long skirt and toes off a pair of well-loved construction boots. “These ought to do. But I’ll be taking the dress as payment — I think I could make Liv something pretty for her show out of what’s left.”

Before the vampire can grab her dress again Nadya steps back. “You can’t take this,” doesn’t realize she’s said it but she has — “it was a gift.” It might be all I have left. No — stop thinking like that. Oh god, but what if it’s true?

But Evelyn just watches her — watches her with an offering of clothes she doesn’t have to pay for and her own shoes. The woman’s toes wiggle in thick woolen socks on the cement.

So she wraps her arms around her middle and hugs the dress one last time. “Thank you for your kindness. Do you have a place I could, uh…”

“Come back here, dear. Would you like some help?”

“Yes, please.”

Evelyn leads her — helps her hold up all the poof of her dress through the stall’s narrow sides — to a small area walled off with dusty flannel blankets. Closes a dark ocean-themed shower curtain with bleach stains on the hem to give them both some privacy.

She almost asks Evelyn if she could keep the corset. Instead just slips one of the silk ribbons out of its place and wraps it around her charm bracelet tightly. The shirt is a little too big but she cuffs up the sleeves and the opportunity to breathe without whalebone confines is actually heaven.

Part of Nadya expected (hoped, definitely hoped) Jax would be gone when they emerged.

Jax is still there. And he’s not alone.

“Sanderson’s been working his ass off, man. But that doesn’t mean any of those kids are ready for an actual fight —” Maricruz gestures in frustration, her voice weary, “— they’re gonna get slaughtered.”

“You think I don’t know that? Just—have him get on his guys to bulk up weapons. See if anyone’s willing to raid some construction sites for supplies. But they have to look the part, Mari. We’re not having another Lula incident.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

Her eyes fall on Nadya. Hard-edged just like before, but weary.

Evelyn gently pushes her way passed Nadya with the dress in hand. Starts rifling around for something and smiles at her own genius when she procures fabric shears from a shoe box.

It’s taken her a second but everything sort of clicks, then. “You were Megan’s ex.” She recognizes the grief that flickers and dies — somehow feels a little angry that it isn’t harder; that it doesn’t last longer.

“Brandon, Greer — are they okay?”

“Yeah, they’re resting. Or they better be.” That’s not who she wants to ask about and Mari knows it; lets it hang between them ugly and stifling in the already uncomfortable underground air. “You holding up?”

“No, not really.” At least she’s honest.

“Do you —”

“I want to see her.” Nadya demands, doesn’t let her finish, doesn’t want anymore hospitality or kindness from anyone.

Because seeing Maricruz again after all these months lights a fire inside her that she didn’t even know was still there. She’s done crying, worrying, grieving. Everything has gone to absolute crap in the last twelve hours and if this is where she ends up then fine — so be it — but hell if she’s not going to be this close and not see her.

The longer Mari hesitates the angrier Nadya finds herself. “Now.”

Mari and Jax exchange a look. If he keeps setting his jaw like that he’s going to grind his teeth to dust. “I’ll go to Griff. Meet me back at mine when you can.” Then he’s gone without so much as a goodbye. Behind them Evelyn huffs a laugh, mutters something about youths in a hurry and keeps cutting Nadya’s dress.

“This way.” Mari gives as a reply to the expectant quirk of Nadya’s brow.

She follows side-by-side.

Nadya has only seen giant bank vaults with spinning-wheel locks the size of her dinner table in movies — until now. Thought that ripping them out of their moorings with bits of drywall and anchorings was something only for Hollywood’s penchant for drama — until now.

She’s also definitely never seen this much actual gold in her life — until now.

The middle of the vault floor has been cleared for habitation; bars of precious metals and stacks of what Nadya now recognizes as legal documents, financial records, and auto titles sort of teetering over dangerously. Her fingers itch with that familiar desire to organize and file.

Lily’s done the same thing to the vault as she does to every space she inhabits. There’s a purple picnic blanket underneath her and a discarded pile of snack wrappers waiting to join the big garbage bin in the sky behind her.

Her video games have been replaced by six, no, seven computers. Three laptops and a tablet and three monitors with cables snaking along the floor to towers haphazardly stacked in the vault corner. And don’t even get her started on the accessory keyboards.

Flattened boxes at her sides double as desk space and a crumb-catcher. Nadya spots a neon green water bottle with a crazy straw sticking out. Objectively she knows what it contains but it doesn’t really register.

Without so much as a glance her way Mari abandons Nadya at the entrance to the vault and crouches down behind Lily where her back is turned. There’s a squeal of laughter and Mari dips her head to Lily’s neck, followed by soft moans that make Nadya shift in her borrowed boots.

She watches them with unwelcome bitterness in her heart.

Then there’s whispering, and Mari holds Lily’s shoulders and it takes Nadya a second to realize she’s holding her down. Holding her back.

With her girlfriend’s help Lily slowly stands and turns.

Everything looks the same. She’s even wearing an outfit they bought together — right after Nadya’s first Raines Corp. paycheck, treating themselves to more than just window-shopping for the first time in months — that must have been taken from the apartment when Nadya abandoned it.

Everything looks the same but they meet each other like strangers. Lily’s eyes burn red and Nadya flinches back. There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.

Until she sees the wounded look on Lily’s face; knows that she’s just hurt her best friend in the entire world even though she’s the reason Lily’s like this. — All the messages half-written that she couldn’t muster up the courage to send, never knowing if she would see them at all…

Nadya doesn’t know what to do so she does what she does best. She rambles.

“It’s not something we ever talked about, you know,” she hiccoughs out; feels her throat start to close up and that familiar burn of teary eyes, “like, what we should do if one of us gets hurt — really, really hurt. I know I made you my emergency contact but that was just in case because I didn’t want my mom to have to fly out here, you know? You didn’t have to do it back. But you did.”

Lily nods slowly, whispers; “But I did.”

“Who was I supposed to call, the hospital, your sister? They wouldn’t’ve known what to do. I just kept seeing you laying there and, Lil’, all that blood was…”

“I know you don’t like gore.” She says it like it’s supposed to be a laugh. Nadya isn’t laughing.

“It wasn’t gore! It was my best friend’s life all over the kitchen floor!” And Lily doesn’t know what to say to that; so Nadya keeps going.

“And I was selfish. I was selfish for not wanting to think about a world without you in it. I didn’t even think about what you would want, I was so focused on finding a way to make it all better.”

Through the haze of her unshed tears she watches Lily place her hand over Mari’s; sees her give the older vampire an imploring look and the barest of nods from her.

Then Lily’s across the vault room — her hands are heavy on Nadya’s shoulders but definitely not as heavy as the decision of letting her live or die had been. She thumbs the tears away from Nadya’s cheeks. Clearer, now, she can see Lily holding back her own downpour.

She’d better — together they might accidentally flood the vault.

“I’m not mad, Nadi’. I’ve had time to be mad… and thought about all the time I might have to be mad, too. And it’s just not worth it. You did way more than needed.”

“But I didn’t even think about if you would have wanted… this.”

“Yeah, you did,” Lily gives her a wry smile and a glimpse of fang, “and you knew I would make the single most badass vamp in the whole city, obviously.”

Nadya chokes on her laugh. They take one another’s hands; the cool touch strange but she’s had time to get used to it from others, now. That helps.

Her thought makes her laugh, makes Lily tilt her head curiously.

“Sure,” Nadya teases, “but what do I find? You’re still sitting around on your computer even as a vampire!”

Lily shrugs. “Well… you know what they say. Don’t mess with perfection.”

Their embrace is long enough that Nadya’s pretty sure her arms fall asleep around Lily’s neck. When the squeeze gets a little too tight all she has to do is hold her breath and her newborn vampire best friend backs off; learns the limits of her still-mortal body.

“I missed this.” They both sigh in unison; bring about more soft peals of laughter.

It’s enough. For now — it’s enough.

[eadanga]

Reunited Part 4 (NSFW)

MC enters the coffee shop with Kaitlyn. They chat as they sit down with their coffee.

Kaitlyn squeals in delight “This is going to be the best wedding ever everything is already set, and we got this really cool DJ…”

MC doesn’t even hear her. She’s lost in thought thinking about what happened with Chris. She blushes at the thought of seeing him tonight.

“Hello? MC are you listening?” Kaitlyn waves her hand in front of her face

“Huh?” MC looks over and sees Kaitlyn glaring at her “Sorry were you saying something?”

“Ok spill”

“Spill what?”

“Whatever’s on your mind”

MC takes a sip of her coffee “I don’t know what you mean”

“Don’t play dumb with me something happened with Chris right?” Kaitlyn’s eyes narrow “And I wanna know everything”

MC laughs “You’re really nosy you know that”

“Yeah” Kaitlyn scoots her chair closer “Now get on with the juicy stuff”

MC giggles “Well now really happened till the end”

“Well don’t keep me in the dark!”

MC laughs “Ok ok he asked me to be his girlfriend”

Kaitlyn’s eyes go big “What?! And you didn’t let me know immediately!”

MC laughs “It all happened at once and then we made out a little”

Kaitlyn raises an eyebrow

“Ok we made out a lot”

Kaitlyn squeals “Really?” Then she playfully elbows her “Guess I won’t be the only one walking down the aisle”

“Kaitlyn it’s too soon for that”

“Really? You guys have been together all throughout college and you’ve been broken up for about half a year. I don’t Chris would be the one to let all those years you had together go”

MC ponders on this for a moment. Kaitlyn’s right Chris isn’t that type could he really be considering marriage?

“Well we’re going on a date tonight so we’ll see what happens”

****

Chris walked through his apartment. He went over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. Then he went back to his bedroom and search through the drawers for something to wear. His hands felt something small and hard and he pulled out a ring box. He opened it and looked at the ring inside. He gave a small smile as he recalled the night they broke up

Chris stood at the mirror he checked himself out making sure he was ready to meet with MC. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing.

“Hello? Oh good evening Mr. Stein” His eyes go big “What…Well it sound like a great opportunity could I have sometime to think about it?...Thank you goodbye”

He hangs up the phone and immediately dials MC

“Hey Chris”

“Hey can you meet me at the park I’ve got something important to talk to you about”

“Sure I’ll be there”

He hangs up and gets dressed then races to the park where he finds MC waiting for him

He kisses her softly “Hi I hope I didn’t keep you waiting”

She smiles “Not at all I just got here” She notices his facial expression “Is everything alright Chris?”

“Well I just got this phone call from work they gave me a promotion”

MC grins “Well that’s great news Chris” He looks at the floor “Isn’t it?”

“Well yeah but the job is in L.A”

“So you won’t be living here?”

He shakes head “No but it is a for a bigger pay I could help my mom out a lot more but if you don’t want me to take it I will -”

MC cups his face in her hands “Don’t even finish that sentence you should be more concern with your future don’t give up this job for me”

“But what about us MC? I don’t want to leave you”

“I will always be here Chris whether we are together or even if we are friends I’m always gonna be your number 1 supporter”

Chris sighs “Well I guess this is it”

MC nods “I guess so” They both stand “When do you leave?”

“In a couple of days will I see you at the airport?”

“Yeah I’ll be there”

 Chris gives her a weak smile and they shake hands

“Good luck Chris”

They walk off in opposite directions. When Chris gets back to his apartment he sits down and pulls out a ring box If I had done this earlier I wouldn’t have lost her. He puts his face in his hands and bursts into tears.

Chris closes the ring box then he stuffs it into his pocket. He gets dressed and head to MC’s apartment. When she opens the door Chris can’t help but stare at her the navy blue dress she wears hugs her curves.

She smiles “Hi”

“Hey you look amazing”

MC blushes “Thanks you look good too”

He offers his arm “Shall we?”

MC giggles as she takes his arm “Aren’t you a gentleman?”

They walk down the street and he guides her to a restaurant. They sit at booth. The waiter comes and takes their orders

Chris wraps his arm around her pulling her closer “You really do look beautiful”

“You said that already”

“Be prepared I’m gonna say it all night”

MC giggles “Still a cheeseball”

Chris chuckles “You love my cheesiness” He kisses her softly on the cheek

“Geez Chris you can’t wait till we’re alone?”

“It’s hard to control myself around you”

MC rolls her eyes then playfully shoves him away “Good things come to those who wait Christopher”

Chris laughs “Ok you win”

They eat and talk over their food. Once they finish they walk out arms in arm

“Chris that was a good meal but I’m hungry for something else”

Chris raises an eyebrow “Oh and what’s that?”

MC gives him a seductive smile and wraps her arms around his neck then whispers in his ear “You”

Chris smirks then grabs her hand and leads her back to her apartment. They enter the apartment wrapped in each other’s embrace. MC pushes him against the door and kisses him passionately. Chris blindly locks the door then lifts her up and carries her to the bedroom. He lays her on the bed kissing her.

Chris lips move down to the neck. He hums “How long has it been since we did this?”

“Too long” MC cups his face and bring it down to hers “Give me 6 months’ worth of orgasms”

Chris smirks “Your wish is my command”

He pulls her up and reaches around her and unzips her dress. He unbuttons his shirt and pulls down his pants along with his boxers. He kisses down her body. He unclasps her bra and sucks on her nipples.

MC moans and tangles her hands in his hair. He continues to kiss down her body pulling her underwear off. He moves his fingers up and down her wet folds. He moves his tongue slowly up her clit then he plunges his tongue deep inside of her.

MC moans “Chris…”

“I missed the taste of you MC fuck I can’t get enough” He licks and swirls with his tongue driving her closer to the edge. As she comes her body shudders.

Chris climbs back up to her “Taste yourself MC” He kisses her deeply

His hands run up and down her thighs. He positions himself over then slowly enters her wetness. MC gasps at the feeling of him he thrust slowly into her. MC moans loudly Chris smirks and whispers in her ear “Did you miss me?”

“Yes” MC gasps out

He continues to thrust in and out of her. He feels her getting close and whispers again “MC who do you belong to?”

“You”

He growls “That’s right you’re mine MC”

“Chris!” MC comes with Chris coming right after her. There are both breathing heavily. Chris pulls himself out of her and rolls to the side. He wraps her up in his arms

MC looks up at him “That was…”

“Fucking amazing?”

MC laughs “Yeah”

Chris kisses her on the forehead “I love you so much and I don’t wanna lose you again”

MC snuggles against his chest “You won’t lose me Chris I’m yours”

Chris tightens his arms around her “Forever and always”

MC wakes up to beams of sunlight she looks over at Chris who is sleeping soundly. She smiles and creeps out the bed she puts on her robe and goes into the kitchen to start making breakfast. She begins to mix the eggs and fry the bacon. The door opens and Chris steps out

“Hey”

“I wish you had stayed in bed I wanted to surprise you”

He smiles and kisses her softly “I was sleeping peacefully then I noticed you weren’t in the bed” MC laughs “Well I’m gonna take a shower”

Chris walks out the room MC smiles and continues cooking. The doorbell rings and MC goes to answer it “Richard what are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet all you guest?”

MC goes to close the door but Richard holds his feet to block it “Hey look all I want is to talk please MC”

MC sighs and opens the door wider “You have five minutes”

Richard enters and sits on the couch “First I am sorry for what happened between us”

“Then you never should have done it”

“I know I would love to take it back but I can’t” He sighs “Look let me take you out and- “

“I’m going to my friend’s wedding plus I’m already dating someone”

Richard’s eyes go wide “What?” He crosses his arms “So that’s it? You’ve already moved on”

MC stands “I’ve been moved on Richard and so should you”

Chris comes back from the bathroom  “Babe do you have-“ MC turns and see Chris standing there

Richard stands he points a finger at Chris “Really? This guy?”

Chris crosses his arms “You’re the jackass from the café. What’s he doing here?”

“He said he wanted to talk I told him he had five minutes”

“He’s not worth 1 second”

Richard clenches his jaw “You shut your mouth”

Chris smirks “Oh yeah and what are you going to do about it?”

Richard take a step towards him but MC blocks him “No were not doing this here I think you should leave”

“Fine” Richard grabs his stuff “Don’t come running to me when your little relationship doesn’t work out” He walks out the door

MC turns back to Chris “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have let him in”

Chris pulls her into an embrace “Hey don’t worry about it I’m glad you told him back off”

“Let’s hope he gets the message this time”

Chris smiles and grabs her hand “Come on let’s enjoy the breakfast you made”

MC smiles and they enjoy the meal together

[daisymakesstuff]

Future Queens- A Sea of Gentlemen

Summary:  Riley discovers that courtly life involves a surprising amount of high-school-style drama

Pairing: Lia(F!Liam) x MC

Series Rating: T

Word Count: 2,372

Warnings: series warning for homophobia

Also on AO3 | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | You Are Here | Chapter 4 |

Disclaimer: this follows the plot line of TRR and uses a lot of it’s original dialogue and description, which I obviously did not write. 

Tagged: @sibella-plays-choices @client-327

It’s the night of Masquerade at the palace. Riley has just spotted Princess Lia across the ballroom, standing alongside the King of Cordonia.

“I guess this is it… I’m going to talk to him…” Riley takes a deep breath to steady her nerves. 

“Great. Looks like they’re ready for you,” Maxwell says.  “Now I’m going to present you to King Constantine first. You’ll want to make a good first impression on him, so he’ll consider you a worthy match for his son. Then you’ll get your big chance to talk to Lia.”

“Okay, I’ve got it.” Riley nods. Maxwell steers you over to the king, who’s seated on a raise dais. 

“Your Royal Highness, may I present Lady Riley Singh?” Maxwell asks. 

“Of course…” The King looks expectantly at Riley. I would have seen it on some Buzzfeed article if kissing someone’s shoe was really a custom here. Oliver is trying to mess with me. She drops into a low curtsy.  “Your Highness.” 

King Constantine smiles in approval. “It’s a pleasure to meet the suitor Lord Maxwell’s house has chosen. I hope you enjoy your time in Cordonia.”

“Thank you.” 

Maxwell escorts Riley away, and she falls in line behind some gentlemen waiting to see the princess. As a new woman in court, and the only woman in a sea of gentlemen, Riley has all eyes on her yet again. This time though, she revels in the attention. I can do this. I already made a good impression on the king. 

“Lord Maxwell, huh?” She teases. Maxwell matches her good mood. 

“That’s my title. You could refer to me as ‘His Lordship’ from now on if you really want.” 

“Eh, I like you better as a Maxwell.”

“Now, look sharp.” The line has shortened, and Riley is nearly in front of Princess Lia once again. “Here’s your big moment! Don’t blow it.”

“I won’t.” That she can say with confidence. Maxwell steps aside. Riley takes a deep breath and steps forward, alone.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met…” Can she really not tell? Is she even out yet?

“Oh?” Riley asks, trying to play it cool. “And how does a princess greet a beautiful mystery woman?” 

“By accepting a kiss on the hand, I hope?” Lia’s delivery is smooth, professional, but Riley hesitates too long before she takes the hint. Lia is expecting a rejection when Riley finally takes Lia’s hand and brings to her lips. The Princess’ cheeks flush, but she recovers quickly. “Now, I believe I know every other person in this line, so your very presence is baffling me. I can’t stop my mind from racing. Is she a high-ranking aristocrat from a distant country? Or a wealthy woman of the world? So who are you? What brings you here?”

“You brought me. I think everyone is here for you tonight.”

“In a manner of speaking. But no one’s surprised me yet like this.” She really doesn’t know. 

“You’ll be even more surprised when you figure out the truth.”

“And what is that?” Lia asks. 

“No guesses yet?” Lia stares hard at her for a moment, and then her eyes go wide. 

“Riley…I thought I’d never see you again.” Now Lia’s grinning. 

“So…this is a good surprise, I hope?” Butterflies flutter in Riley’s stomach. 

“The best. But how did you get here?” 

“Maxwell and his brother are sponsoring me. He brought me here to join the other suitors.” Lia’s jaw drops, and for a second Riley is concerned she’s broken the Crown Princess of Cordonia. 

“Really? That’s amazing! I can’t believe you came all this way for me.” 

“I know we have something special. I want to see what it can be.” 

“I feel the same way.” Princess Lia reaches out and touches Riley’s hand…but after only a moment, her guard clears his throat. Lia’s hand drops back to her side. “We’re not in New York anymore though, Riley. The rules here are different. This entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you.”

“That sounds… fun!” The adventure of a lifetime, just like Maxwell promised. 

“I knew you’d be up for the challenge.” Lia smiles again, relieved. “I’m sure you’ll charm them just as you’ve charmed me. Unfortunately, the receiving line isn’t the best place to talk. We only have a few more minutes before the next gentleman arrives…”

“In that case, I want to know… how are you holding up?” 

“At a time like this, you’re asking about me?” Lia asks. “That means a lot to me, really. This whole thing…it’s a lot of pressure, but I knew what I was getting into. The princesses of Cordonia can only have so much say over who they marry, and I understand why. It doesn’t make it easier, but it’s what I was raised for.” Just then, the next noble gentleman approaches. Lia frowns. “Sorry, our time is up.”

“I understand,” Riley assures her. “We really aren’t in New York anymore, are we?” She will have to keep it together. If she wants a real shot at this, she may have to up her game. 

“No. I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me.” Maxwell rejoins Riley as she walks away from the Princess. He smiles. 

“Lia looked really happy to see you,” he says. 

“Yeah, but is that going to be enough? I also have to impress the royal court and the people of Cordonia…”

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time for that. And my brother, Bertrand, and I will be there to help you every step of the way. Remember, we want you to win this thing.”

“Right.” Riley nods with determination. 

“For now, it’d be a good start to get to know the other courtly gentle—suitors. They’re your competition, but you might be able to make some of them your allies. Bertrand and I are helpful, but the more people you can get on your side the better.”

“I’m on it.” 

---

Waving at Maxwell, Riley walks outside to join Oliver, Hans, and the other noble gentlemen as they get drinks from an ornate table display.

“Riley, you were awfully familiar with the Prince. You didn’t say that you knew him,” Oliver says. His voice is level, but she can tell he’s annoyed with this development. Good. 

“Oliver…can we go back to how you lied to me about kissing the King’s shoe?” It’s maybe not her most responsible or diplomatic answer, but Riley feels its well-deserved. To her chagrin, Oliver bursts into haughty laughter.

“That was hilarious, wasn’t it? Come now, you can’t begrudge me for a little prank.” A ‘prank’ that could have cost me my chance with Lia? “You are the new girl, after all.” 

“Well, hazing’s over.” Riley glares at him. Oliver’s annoyed expression returns. 

“It’s over when I say it’s over. Listen, you should know that whatever happened between you and Lia, you don’t really have a chance with her. You might’ve been able to capture her attention when it was just the two of you, but you can’t keep up with the gentlemen here. She needs a husband, one worthy of her status. We’re from the finest families in Europe and we’ve been training and preparing our whole lives to marry a princess. You can’t just waltz in here at the last minute and steal her from us. Kai here is the son of a diplomat and is fluent in ten languages…”

A young man with warm brown skin and black hair smiles from beside Oliver. “Le Princess va tomber amoureux de moi,” he says in perfect French. Riley doesn’t need to speak the language to know what it means. Her only language skills are the bits and pieces she can remember from high school French class. Oliver was banking on that. He was right, too. That makes Riley’s blood boil. 

“Pennington can track his lineage back through six hundred years of royalty,” Oliver continues. Another man in a navy-blue tailored suit stands a little taller beside Oliver. 

“It’s an honor to represent my people here,” he says. 

“Even Hans’ been training to learn the courtly graces of conversation and seduction,” Oliver says. 

Hans raises an eyebrow. “Uh, thanks?” 

“But if anyone’s got the inside track with Princess Lia, it’s you, Oliver. You’ve known him his entire life,” Pennington points out. 

“It’s true. We grew up at the palace together as childhood friends…” Oliver keeps his expression neutral, but Riley can feel the smug satisfaction coming from him. “Before her older brother abdicated, it was just assumed Lia and I would be married one day. I’ve got no intention of losing her to one of you. No offense.”

“Wait a second... I can’t believe Lia would be friends with you.” Oliver has been nothing but cruel this entire time. Lia is better than that. 

“That just shows how much you don’t know about her… and about me.” Oliver huffs.

“Oliver can be quite charming when he wants to be,” Kai says.

“You’re just not very likely to see it,” snipes Pennington. Oliver smiles, pleased with their quick defense. 

“Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’m sure little Riley will learn her place here, eventually.” His smile turns threatening, and his expression suddenly turns dark, “or else I’ll make her life a living hell.”

“And what, exactly, do you think my place is here?” Riley asks bitterly. 

“Oh, somewhere below Penelope and Kiara, but you know what? Probably above Hans. Though I’m surprised Hans’ here at all after what I heard about his last attempt at an engagement.”

“Oliver!” Hans exclaims. 

“Well, we all know  that your family will throw you at any available bachelorette as long as it means you can climb another rung on the social ladder… but, honestly, it’s a bit much to expect that Princess Lia is going to accept ‘damaged goods’.” Oliver is unfazed and Hans’ face turns bright red. 

“I… I need to… excuse me.” Hans pushes past everyone, but Riley catches him right before he goes inside.

“Hans, wait… I’ll go with you,” Riley says.

“That’s awfully sweet, but… I’ll… I’ll be fine.” He shakes his head and walks through the doors to the palace. Riley turns to Oliver. 

“Men like him shouldn’t bother being here if they can’t handle the truth…” Oliver says, expression carefully neutral. Riley has at least learned one thing from him: a poker face is a useful tool in the royal court. She will try to make good use of that information. 

“Oliver, you’re acting like a child, not a king. If this is how you behave, I wouldn’t trust you with childproof scissors, let alone a kingdom.” 

“I… You can’t…” Oliver fidgets with his collar, trying to quell his shock. 

“I just did,” Riley says. “If you’ll excuse me… I’m going after Hans.” Riley rushes after Hans, who speed walks down the hall into a room. She finds him in his bedroom, tears running down his face. Hans startles when Riley opens the door. He wipes quickly at his eyes but it only makes them redder. 

“Riley, what are you doing here?” Hans asks. 

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Riley answers.  

“That’s…” he trails off, speechless, “that’s so kind of you. Thank you.” 

“It was the least I could do.” 

“I know I shouldn’t let Oliver bother me. You probably think I’m making a fool of myself.” 

“I think you’re being...human,” Riley says. “I mean, you’d have to be a robot not to let Oliver get under your skin when he talks to you like that.” 

“Heh. I guess you’re right.” Oliver gives her a half-hearted laugh. "The real problem is… Oliver is right. Last year, my parents arranged a very advantageous match for me. But only a few weeks before the wedding, the bride pulled out of the arrangement. It was handled quietly, but it was still regarded as rather scandalous. Since then, my parents have been desperate for me to find another match. They’ve all but thrown me into this competition. I thought Cordonia was far away enough that I could escape my past… but it looks like the rumors have followed me here.” 

“Hans… who cares about your past? You’re here now. You might as well make the most of it,” Riley says. I know I am. 

“You’re right,” Hans agrees. “I just wish Oliver wouldn’t have said that in front of everyone…”

“At the heart of it, I think we both know why Oliver singled you out.”

“Why?”

“Oliver bullies you because you’re his biggest threat. Look at yourself! You’re handsome, well-composed, compassionate, articulate… all the things that Oliver isn’t.” 

“I don’t know. He is kind of gorgeous,” Hans points out. Riley holds back a snicker. It takes a lot of trust for a man to admit something like that. 

“Okay, maybe I’ll give him that one, but you’re clearly a front-runner for the Princess’ choice. It’s no wonder Oliver’s threatened by you.” 

“But you’re not.” 

“I’m not like Oliver.” 

“Well, Riley, I see that I’ve found myself in your debt already.” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Riley makes a non-committal gesture that reads more ‘American’ than ‘American Royalty’. 

“On the contrary, your words have spoken volumes about your character. I won’t forget this…” Hans wipes at his face and tries out a smile. “I must look a mess…”

“Nothing a splash of cold water won’t fix…or maybe a cold washcloth. Wouldn’t want to get your suit wet.” Hans nods and takes a moment in the en suite bathroom to get himself cleaned up. 

“Ready to go back?” Riley asks when he returns. He looks  much better. 

“Yes.” 

---

As Riley steps back into the ballroom, she hears the opening strains of a waltz begin to play, and Maxwell runs up to her. 

“Riley, there you are! The last dance is starting up, and I think you and Lia deserve this one,” he says. Riley turns to see Lia talking to Pennington. 

“… and of course, you’re looking stunning tonight…” It looks like he’s working up the nerve to ask her to dance. 

“It might be a little rude to cut in but—” Maxwell doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. 

“Say no more… I know what to do.” Riley grins. 

[dromjournal]

Devil’s Daughter

Autumn 2018

“I'm” moving up a road next to the dorms of a college. Well the “dorms” are actually single room cabins with two bunk beds, four people in each. Outside each there is a table to eat and a couch. It looks nice. Every dorm got it’s own name on a sign over the door. It’s something pun-y about what the residents are studying. It kinda reminds you of a camp, except how filled it is with college students messing around. You can tell because there is a lot of partying going on and/or people just chilling outside in their pimped out “lawns”. I am a woman, black hair and pale skin with european features. Though maybe it should the odd combo it doesn’t really stand out. She is conventionally attractive, though not drop dead gorgeous. (Kinda your typical average YA heroine stuck in a love triangle) Her mother is a vampire or similar, possibly mermaid? Vampire Mermaid??? Her father is Satan. She is the first and only daughter of both and she have been treated through her childhood as something really special which made her confident in herself. Finding out she have had many many brothers through history kinda pulls the rug from under her feet, and  she starts to question everything she’s known. Now her dad (Satan) wants her to come with him, and though it’s unclear why she doesn’t want to. She believes everything she’s grown up with to be a lie and doesn’t trust her parents telling her what to do. She have some strengths, but not really powers. She can swim really good/fast because there is something aquatic in her genes. She can’t burn. She will learn more with time.

So she walks up this road trying to escape her father. She had been here once before, and when she was she was attacked by a guy who raped her. He is handsome and athletic and general fuckboy and douchebag with a lot of money; also he was drunk off his ass that night as she had just been walking down the street. Now she is wary and  afraid as she walks as quickly as she can, looking down, though it’s daylight and lots of people move around. In fact, she does see him in the middle of some kind of ongoing race. He seems to be winning. Fortunately he don’t notice her so she just keeps moving. Just at the top there is a cabin housing actually some people she, well, trust. She have met them before though she don’t know them well enough to be friends exactly, they are good people. They are sitting in their couch outside and she starts as she notices a child is sitting among them. The child looks like her, she got a feeling it IS hers, and she walks up to them. She isn’t able to stop herself. Unfortunately the douchebag appears just as she’s about to ask and so the good guy panics, throwing a blanket over her and pretending she’s his girlfriend giving him a blowjob under there, just. Out in the open. Douchebag believes it and approves, but asks about the kid and makes it clear she is his daughter which confirms to main character that it’s her daughter too. The good guys are the kids guardians for some reason and not the Douchebag (though she is thankful for that). She tries to sneak a peak at the girl, but the blanket falls off and though he had been leaving and had his back turned douchebag looks over his shoulder and notices her and immediately recognizes her. He is for some reason sure she is meant to be his wife now and they are meant to be together. He have no regrets about raping her, doesn’t even seem to see it like that that. She runs as fast as she can away from all of them, and actually lose him by hiding in an old woodcabin for a second.

Knowing now she have a daughter she feels like something fundamentally changes. She believes she can have a good future with her child, and she must find a way to escape her dad.

Douchebag keeps looking for her though, and as she hear about her father setting fire to an old couples home not far away for not saying they had seen her when he asked them (in human form. He didn’t go up to these people as Satan.) she goes to him and accepts to go with him so she can lead her dad away from the innocent people. He had almost found her, too. DB takes her to his small beach-house, probably expensive, to meet his sister. She is a blonde bombshell with cold eyes who clearly think MC is undeserving and makes MC feel inferior in all ways. Her friend (gf?) also appears, boobs bigger than her head, bubbly and bimboish. She seems very spoiled and though nice, like it’s all only as long as you’re on her good side. So MC is afraid that the guy is gonna force himself onto her, naturally, but have no better idea of where to go to escape. They all go bathe in the ocean where she makes a bet with the sister that she can swim to a small island far out and back in eight seconds. It would seem impossible, but she makes it. She swim underwater and just resurface at the island to wave and then when she’s back again. During the night a big storm is expected. On the island from before there is a single house, but the owner have been evacuated from there and their dog have been left behind. The dog have jumped into the water to swim ashore, but it’s a far distance even without the storm that is coming in. The Sister says the only chance they got of saving the dog is MC, and she agrees to swim over and get it because she doesn’t want the dog to drown. The Douchebag isn’t around to hear any of this, happily lulling about inside happily. As she jumps into the water and reaches the dog though, the dog tells her this is a ruse and the Sister hooks her somehow on a magic line around her legs pulling her into the water. She is some kind of witch and recognized MC as a magical creature right away. She is standing on the shore and smiling wickedly. She is very much attempting to drown her, though the exact reasons are unclear. The Douchebag comes outside and freaks out that his sister let his “girlfriend” into the water, unaware of the magic. He can’t really do anything but scream for help. MC takes the chance to swim away though, Sister having underestimated her magical strength. She breaks the lines, to the sister and her friends great shock (the look on their faces<3), and throw the dog onto a nearby pier, swimming away along the coastline until she’s sure she can move onto land safely. Can’t drown a mermaid, asshole.

As she looks up over the hills she is standing by, she have a vision of a young boy (named after a Midsummer Nights Dream, though honestly I refuse to say he was named Bottom) where he will be found hiding behind a rock by evil men and is cruelly beheaded, then brought back to life with the face of a donkey. He will none the less go on and become a great strategist and asset in the fight against those people later on. There is a tunnel of trees up ahead and she runs that way, wanting to get as far away as possible. In the tunnel though she can immediately tell there is people hiding in the dark, and she calls out to them to question their motives. They appear - three kids, more or less, barely teens but seemingly overconfident. They use black magic and sell people chocolates that contain spells. No one tell on them because they’d be incriminated too for taking part. That’s why they start threatening MC, who wasn’t there for their favours, with flashy magic. There’s two guys and one girl. One of the guys are younger than the other two. Unfortunately for them they are literally calling demons on the devils daughter, so reality kind break apart and hell shows for a second, MC just standing comfortably in the flames. They are shocked and taken aback, realizing she is something much stronger than them, so she continues to just move through the tunnel as they stand back staring. That’s what hubris getcha. She finds chocolate wrappings with markings such as “love” and “revenge” all over the place, getting out from the trees. They have been thrown by the people buying the spells so not to have any incriminating proof your candy is doused in magic. There is a small village on the other end (if even that, more like a block). There is a middle aged man whom is gruff and mad, acting like he’s some kind of guardian of the street. He immediately question her being there but she mostly ignores him and his suspicious questions and roll her eyes, making him angrier. As she check out the town, she is getting thrown back in time to see the past of this place. A whore lives in a cottage in town, and though many of the men have been her clients they are considered innocents who have fallen victim to her evil seduction. Now they are blocking all exits and setting fire to her house, trapping her inside. Comfortable in the knowledge fire won’t hurt her MC hurries inside, going through the wall as she’s just a spirit right now. The woman inside have just realised what is happening and broken down crying, but MC can somehow show herself to her since her fate is sealed, and she comforts her and tell her everything will be ok. They go to sleep and MC protects her from feeling any pain as she dies in the smoke and fire.

Thrown back to her body, she goes looking for the kids from before. The block look and awful lot like it used to back in the days still, though there is more and larger buildings. She finds the kids hiding out in a shed, the gruff man also well aware they are in there and yelling at them through the window that he’ll get them sooner or later. Getting in, she finds out the youngest of them is the guy with the midsummer night dreams name and realize what his fate is going to be.

She doesn’t tell them what will happen, but she question what they are doing and how it’ll affect their future. The block is very orthodox christian still and the visions she’s been shown have been no accidents, they have been to make sure everything happens as fate meant for it to. She does get in their good books though as they think she is soo cool being able to literally open a portal to hell and stand in the fire. She help style their hair outside in the yard. Other kids around too ask for her to fix their hair, which she does. Even the angry man, who are shocked to find he suddenly got hair again where he had lost it. He can’t believe what he’s seeing and isn’t even yelling angrily about witchcraft or something as you’d expect.

She moves on after that - there is a long straight road down the mountain, and it’s icy and people are skiing and walking all over it. She can’t help laughing when they fall. She is trying to be a good person though. Genuinely a good person. She doesn’t want to be whatever her parents thought she was meant to be.