#and when I was chatting w/ the priest and he was like ''yeah there's a scary monster up north don't follow the hoofprints''

[loregoddess]

kill them with kindness? wrong *summons a lynel*

[sw124]

Cult of the Lamb: The Ewe AU

Sweet Dreams

“I’m tellin’ ya she’s weird!”

Escher’s gaze was not on the two members but his ears were, he wasn’t the type to eavesdrop but given these two were being a bit loud he couldn’t help but listen in. “You talkin about the new girl right? The one hanging around the Ewe?”

“Who else?! She follows the Ewe all day, I’m surprised the leader hasn’t sacrificed her. The way she hangs off her like that is kinda suspicious.”

Yeah that had to be Casper, the old unicorn was always suspicious of new members. Though Escher had to admit he was right about one thing, the new girl’s constant need to be near the Ewe was a bit..off-putting. But then again it wasn’t just the Ewe she hung around, Escher saw her around Shamura and Leshy too; not to mention he also spent some time with the newcomer. She was..honestly a nice person to be around, but he also knew that looks could be deceiving.

“I bet ya she’s hangin round Ewe cause she thinks it’ll get her in good with the leader, fat chance! The Ewe’s too nice to turn the freak down but I’m sure high priest Narinder will put the bug in’er place!”

Ok Escher heard enough, picking up his basket of radishes he walked towards the storehouse. Casper always ran his mouth, the Lamb was a very merciful person and would always sense if someone had ill intentions for others. That was one of the things that made him godly in the first place, besides everyone had their odd quirks. Leshy liked to cause mischief sometimes, Kallamar was always the center of attention with the ladies in the cult, Shamura tended to ramble and Heket always glared. So who was Casper to judge-

“Good afternoon Escher~” Well speak of the devil, there she was. “Hey Mamu, you as well.”

Mamu, the newcomer had only arrived seven days ago yet already seemed to make herself perfectly at home in the cult. It was normal that the Ewe kept a distance from new people when they arrive but…when Ewe met Mamu for the first time, the natural shyness seemed to vanish. It was only the second day before the newcomer was sitting by the Ewe in the fields chatting with her casually.

“Need any help?” Asked Mamu, motioning to the basket.

Escher chuckled. “Nah I’m fine, hope ya don’t mind me asking but whatcha doing over here. I thought you’d be hanging out with the Ewe.”

“She’s with Narinder at this time, I rather not disturb them. Besides, I was hoping to bump into ‘you’ today.”

“Me?” Escher blinked, Mamu nodded. “Yes you see, it’s about your friend Leshy…he’s been having trouble sleeping as of late hasn’t he?”

Escher’s ear twitched, well yes it was true in a way…Leshy was sleeping but he wasn’t getting enough of it. Leshy was suffering from a steady stream of night terrors, however Leshy didn’t want anyone to know about it…especially his siblings. He flinched feeling a hand on his shoulder, turning he found Mamu giving him a knowing smile. “Easy my friend, I’m aware this isn’t something to be discussed openly. I have a remedy to help quell this ailment of his if you wish to know it, I assure you this does not go against the teachings of the Lamb.”

Um…well that was nice, though Escher felt a hint of worry at the last part. But before he could answer Mamu had her arm wrapped around his an proceeded to pull him towards the communal kitchen.

“W-Whoa wait! Why are we going to the kitchen?!”

“The treatment requires a few ingredients, I assure you it’s quite easy to make!”

————————————

[Later that night]

Things were getting worse, Leshy knew this as he scrubbed his fur. The gentle stream of lukewarm water pouring over his shoulders, washing away the dirt of the day and the soap. He was..developing a fear of his own bed, of sleep…casue he knew that the moment he entered the land of dreams…the horde of lambs would be there. Waiting for him, glowing eyes, streams of blood, their cries threatening to make him deaf, their hands grasping at him, pulling him down into-

“Leshy, You in there?”

He flinched but relaxed, it was just Escher. “Yeah, I’ll be done in a sec.”

“Yer fine, I washed up by the river. I got a surprise for you, just meet me in the bedroom ok?” There was a pregnant pause before Leshy responded.

“O…Okay?”

Bedroom and surprise…those were two words that never came out of Escher’s mouth in the same sentence since they started living together. Curiosity was getting the better of him (or something else he wasn’t sure) but he was quick to finish washing up. The images that ran through his head didn’t really help either…a particular memory came to him involving the Lambs wedding and a so called ‘tradition’ involving a gaurder belt. He still thought the Lamb was messing with him…

To his relief (or disappointment) he found Escher sitting on the edge of the bed in his usual pajamas…holding two mugs of something.

“Whats that?”

“Something Mamu taught me to make, she calls it ‘milk tea’ with honey. She told me it helps you relax, here.” Escher handed one of the mugs over to Leshy who stared at it..well sort of.

His clawed fingers gently felt around the mug, he felt the warmth radiate from the sides. Helped him gage the temperature of the drink itself, the smell …oh it was divine. He could smell the milk, there was also lavender in it…and the honey. He recognized that scent almost immediately.

Leshy gave a playful smirk. “Mamu let you have someone of her honey stash didn’t she?”

Escher chuckled. “She gave me some honey candy yeah, showed me how to melt them down for the drinks.” Leshy could feel the smile on his boyfriend’s face, well if he waited too long the drink would get cold.

He blew over the top of it to cool it down just a touch before taking a tentative sip, it all it took before he was chugging the drink down. It tasted divine! Warm, smooth with just a hint of sweetness thanks to that honey. After the first few gulps he started feeling…odd, his body grew almost…heavy in a way. The best thing he could compare it to was during a small flood last month and filling bags of sand, moving them when they were wet was so hard but…he felt just like those very bags.

Credit where credit was due, this stuff was working like a charm. Escher joined his companion and could feel the same affects, he drank his a bit slowly. He wanted to savor the taste of it, but even he couldn’t hold back after a while and gulped down the rest of it. Looking over at Leshy, he was flopped back on the bed. Robe…partly opened by his chest…Escher blushed. Leshy hadn’t put on his pants yet!

Well that was fixed after a minute when Leshy reached for them, took him a minute to slip them on but he managed. “So…Mamu taught ya this huh?”

“Yeah..funny thing is when she was making this…I actually got to learn she’s married!”

Leshy turned to him. “Wait….shes married?”

“Yeah, shes got two husbands apparently. Calls them…Gruff and Ruff, says they’re her pet names for them.”

“Huh…that…makes sense.”

Escher blinked. “Whats that?”

“Fer a while I wondered why she was so close to the Ewe, hearing how she’s married to two guys..makes sense now.” He wasn’t wrong, if only Escher knew this earlier he’d rub it in ol’Casper’s face.

No, had to focus! Escher recalled what Mamu told him next, he gently reached over and rubbed his hand along Leshy’s head.

“We better get some sleep, c’mon.”

If it weren’t for the drink Leshy would’ve been groaning, however the dread was still there. He crawled to his side of the bed while Escher took his..he heard him blow out the candle. The moment Leshy’s head touched his pillow…he felt Escher’s arms wrap around him in a soft embrace. Before he could ask what he was doing….he felt his boyfriend’s lips by his ear…

Whispering.

“Once I had a flock of sheep, they grazed upon a feather. I keep them in a music box from wind and rainy weather~”

Escher….was singing? Leshy never heard him sing before, he wanted to ask why but….huh…he….he has such a pretty voice. It’s soft, just like the pillow..and the blankets…

“An everyday the sun would shine they fly off through the town, to bring me back some golden rings, candy by the pound. Sing Terry-O Day, sing autumn to may~”

Despite the heavy feeling in his entire body Leshy managed to turn towards his beloved, his arms snaking their way around him; reciprocating the embrace.

Escher continued singing. “Oh once I had a downy swan, she was so very frail. She sat upon an oyster shell and hatched me out a snail~”

Leshy began to drift, drift further into sleep. Still Escher’s voice could be heard, despite the growing softness. Even so, sleep was taking hold of his beloved as well, his voice growing ever more quiet.

Still he sang, his voice so quiet it felt like he was saying a prayer. “The snail it turned into a bird, a bird to butterfly…and he tells a bigger tale will have to…tell a lie. Sing Terry-O Day…….sing…..Autumn….to….May~”

The last verse sent them both tumbling into their respective dreams, despite the growing fear inside…Leshy was greeted by a field of green. Bathed in a silver hue of morning mist, he looked around to see his family..his brothers and sister all happily meandering about. Kallamar with his plethora of suitors, Shamura wandering among the grounds, Heket talking to that one lion fellow and…..

“Uncle Leshy!”

Turning, two little figures came bounding twoards him. One with her arms stretched out wide, the other leaning forward as he ran. Both leaping up and tackling him to the ground, he was laughing before he knew what exactly was going on. Of course he could recognize his niece and nephew from mountains away! They proceeded to try and pin him down as he fought back, but was subdued remarkably quick.

“Oh no! Defeated by my brother’s own brood, what cruel irony!” Laughed Leshy, the twins ran off before he could get a chance to take his so called ‘revenge’ on the two.

Turning over he watched the two rush over to their mother…sitting on a blanket, her soft shadowy eyes trained on her two little ones. The Lamb laying on their back while Narinder stood over watching the twins run to their mother, Leshy sat up on his knees and looked out around him…everything felt…almost-

“Leshy, you just gonna sit there?”

His head spun around, standing over him….was Escher. He was wearing a smile so warm it’d make a kindling fire feel like ice. In a flash, Leshy found his arms wrapped around his beloved yellow cat. The two falling into the soft grass, laughing as they cuddled against the grass.

———————————

[Next morning]

Credit where credit was due, Mamu’s treatment worked! Escher never seen Leshy so well rested before. He was bounding around the farmlands with Belle and Beau like he was a child himself, he was also…extra friendly in the morning too. Trying to get dressed that morning proved to be a challenge when his beloved’s claws kept tickling his sides, he was just so happy it worked.

“Well, someone looks well rested.” Came a sing-song voice.

Speak of the devil.

“Mamu!” Escher stood up and embraced the newcomer, hoping she didn’t mind the dirt. Picking radishes was dirty work after all. “Good morning! An yes, oh yes very well rested! Your treatment worked, Leshy and I never had such a wonderful night sleep before!”

She giggled. “I’m happy to hear that, though it’s quite obvious to see if I’m being honest.”

Well she wasn’t wrong, the way Leshy was running around and how he himself was working was kind of-

“Dreams with silver mist are always the purest of course.”

Escher froze for a second before turning to the newcomer in question, all she did was smile…and walk away humming the lullaby she taught him…before she was too far away she turned back with a cheeky smile and said.

“Good day friend, an sweet dreams.”

End

This AU belongs to @rampantram the Ewe is their oc

The song is “Autumn to May” by Peter, Paul & Mary. This was actually inspired by another fanfic series by the writer @aughtpunk who uses the same song in their story, please go have a read.

Mamu is my oc.

This is her general page but I will do a colt version of her soon

[ethtyn]

etho's limlife #5 pov liveblog

oh good. bdubs is just. here.

not the boogeyman. so my initial supposition was incorrect [squints]

uhmmm the group screenie moment with bdubs halfway up a ladder to look shorter 😭 goodbye.

"i'm washed up at pvp, i don't know the answers to these questions anymore" WAAAAAAH

"the BITES lawncare service" HELP LOL

this post

WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE BAD BOYS. WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN ALL OF THIS.

"if they ask me why we did it, i have no clue, to be honest (laughs)" GHGNFNF. (from between gritted teeth, affectionately) i can't stand you.

SCREAM i am dying at Etho crouching in the water elevator listening to jimmy monologue to his commenters. "wait, where are you??" PLEASE.

...shrieker in the TIES base. 🫵🏻 Cleo.

"why does everybody call me a traitor?!" "you put a shrieker in our base!" "(laughs) oh, yeah, Mom told me to do that." SEE. CLEO.

"i love it when we're pranked by people who don't know how things work" pfffft damn tango go off

obsessed w Etho apparently immediately sniffing out the bad boys in TIES' base. "this is just embarrassing at this point" to hysterical laughter from the BBs. j'adore.

"Jimmy. you're a BAD BOY." "i'm a very bad boy." 🥴🥴🥴

tell me the bad boys are not wearing priest skins. like i'm sure they're supposed to look like regular suits but THEY LOOK LIKE PRIESTS i'm. this is. hm

deviation for. this post

"i would be here all the time if it was allowed!" "you're allowed. you could be a Clocker." IMMEDIATELY LOOKS AT BDUBS. "i could, couldn't i" in the softest voice. i am ripping up my pillow with my teeth.

SORRY. BDUBS PLACING TNT AND CLEO AND SCAR JUMPING AWAY WHILE ETHO'S JUST LIKE "this is nice 😌". IM CLAWING AT MY OWN FACE.

"i especially like that Cleo's been quiet. that's my favourite part of this whole supper." first of all it's dinner not supper you Canadian fuck (/aff), SECONDABLE you are. really going hard on the "not afraid of Cleo anymore" exposure therapy today sir. i love it keep going

KIDS DO YOU WANT TO GO PLAY CATCH RIGHT NOW. SITS DOWN AND WATCHES INTENTLY. HI ANON I AM THINKING OF YOUR OUT OF CONTEXT SPOILERS RN.

fucking JCNCKFNCKDNCKF. insults Cleo, fails to find the button to the iron door, gets slapped for his troubles. I AM EATING SO GOOD RN

bro i. my mouth is open. jaw is flapping. this is some roleplay all right. also i love being right, there are TNT minecarts involved which means this is going to end Horribly.

IM SCREAMING. I WATCHED THAT BACK LIKE FIVE TIMES. there are literal tears in my eyes that was funnier than i possibly could ever have anticipated. AND ALSO BOTH OF THEM DIED IM FUCKING CACKLING.

i feel like i can HEAR Etho wondering if he'll need to edit out Scar's "banging" comment LMFAO

aaddhdnckfkg Joel's "ETHO?! disgusting" after Scar tattled on him in chat HELLO?

??????????? Scar crits him like. at least twice when they go back inside and Etho's just. so blasé about it. "he's going through his angsty teenage phase, i should leave" and Scar LETS HIM. the dynamics here are confusing me. i need to watch Scar's video. (i will confess to not keeping up with the Clockers since the first couple of episodes since Bdubs isn't uploading 😔)

Grian's "WHAT?!" after Etho admitted he didn't know why he blew up the bridge made me go into a coughing fit i laughed so hard. don't smoke, kids /srs

"i still have your sword, so if you ever need something from me—" sicko ha ha yessss dot jpeg. GIVE ME GRITHOOOOOO

bdubs crouching in a corner pointing a crossbow at Etho with his shield up and Etho is Still having a casual conversation. WHAT ARE THE DYNAMICS HERE?!

sorry, are you telling me. that Scott heard Etho say "uhhhh....yep" LIKE THAT in response to his question about whether that spot was how you access the farm loot and STILL WENT DOWN THERE? i'm also shocked that Martyn wasn't like "what do you mean, "tell them""

GODDAMMIT. who triggered it. i wanted to see that dynamic shift so bad.

KCNCMFMFM he is SO BAD at lying. it was a good decision to interrogate Jimmy first to confirm the Mean Gills' findings bc i don't think that man can tell when someone is lying to him Ever.

the unconvincing "whaaaat"s when Etho then goes to Joel & Grian 😭😭😭😭😭😭

OH GOD THAT FISHING ROD SNAG SCARED ME TOO. their little giggles 😭

NOT THE RED HOT PANTS, SKIZZ

uhm. episode conclusion: Etho is the Disneyland Dad™.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s10e3 soul survivor (w. brad buckner, eugenie ross-leming)

(i feel like eugenie and brad episodes have been on the better side of things generally? that's why i tag the writers in the post so i can theoretically go back and get a ~feel~ for how i felt in an organized fashion esp since i can't remember episodes names/numbers for shit)

priest blessing?? whatever the blood to de-demon dean also inexplicably has an accent

dean, i'm begging you, please bring your voice back up a smidge. also i really thought the demon arc was longer! probably because fic is fleshing out all that potential they left hanging

oh, jackles directed this one. he shoulda given himself notes that he's... coming across very forced in this little chat in the chair. :S

oh, sam. padalecki's been coming through on the worn down and emotional

DEAN Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but … did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care? SAM What do I care? DEAN You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this! SAM Yeah, I pretty much figured that out

dean's turn with the soulless(ish) desire to stay as such

speaking of forced, this weird romantic-ish tension they're trying to do with hannah and castiel is weird

margiekugel's got a neon sign and everything, fancy

wiki

Margiekugel is a beer from Wisconsin created for the show that is named after Production Designer Jerry Wanek's mom (see Leinenkugel).

okay so i thought the whole deal for the dude's wife/crowley wanting dean to do it was strange, well. okay, sam. but we know scruples go out the window when dean needs saving

cracked me up. lurking in the bushes yelling out a correction. also, jared, i can see your gum, dude -_-

i'm kinda seething along with sam because like yeah dean's trying and probably succeeding at getting under sam's skin but he's also saying stuff that isn't true and you know what a fucking uptight ass i am about things like that :p

DEAN Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!

or we could shaun of the dead the situation

LOL i was wondering if there was a throne. also, i paused twice because i thought the background hell-wailing in the show was one of my kids upstairs crying for me 🥴 almost a third time but i stopped myself

CROWLEY I was thinking of better days. DEMON Yes—your sabbatical. CROWLEY My what? DEMON Uh, we were worried, of course. Your misadventure with the older Winchester was quite the topic of speculation. Uh, if you’ll forgive my boldness… I could now be your wingman.

i'm just. having a hard time believing crowley was really that starry eyed over demon!dean? he's a permanent flirt but also very practical and not exactly sentimental. oh, is he still doing the human blood thing? i haven't really wrapped that into my little character model in my head for him :p

forced to have a semi-scenic stop and chat

this is so strange. he's not interested, she's making good points but then gets all grabby and close like she's gonna go in for a kiss or something

DEAN You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since … forever. Or maybe … Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!

very effective at pushing every sore spot and insecurity. sadly didn't get much feeling out of me other than stress on sam's behalf. i fear they've broken some of my emotional attachment to the show somehow

DEAN You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit. SAM No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!

only way to quit is to die. but even then it's probably not gonna work

self immolating demon, ok. that seems very specifically not demon like, in the slightest???

CASTIEL Just … I’ve been around humans for long enough to see how easily distractions occur. HANNAH “Distractions.” CASTIEL Emotions, feelings … They’re dangerous temptations.

and they're going to try to help save dean because... nothing to do with emotions or feelings on castiel's part? what. just because you're not interested, don't go blaming it on having ~distracting emotions~

is it time for hannah to die? is she gonna... reup castiel's grace?

sink

how old is that pie??? ew.

it's the mushy familiar music again, but this time... strings? so we've had piano twice (that i noticed), some horn-ish thing and now like.. cello?

i do appreciate that we have more pictures, with bobby and the boys as grownups together too. and it's sweet that they can just use s1 happy behind the scenes type pictures and make it sam and dean

oh, crowley can steal some grace so we don't have to have a moral crisis

mhmm

(mushy music came back briefly during the chat through the door before dean broke it down)

so i did know about the hammer via fic. jackles seemed to be having fun being on his little merry violent hunt. made think (the little i know) of his character in the boys

ok

CASTIEL Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.

(mushy music AGAIN [piano variation] at the end of dean and cas's conversation)

DEAN What did Sam say? Does he want a divorce?

very normal joke (??) to make about your brother, especially when you basically had a handfasting ceremony in a church along with the other 10 years of things like that. but we're the josie grossies for shipping it. uh huh

CASTIEL I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, it wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you. DEAN I tried to kill him, Cas. CASTIEL Dean. You two have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away. DEAN You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?

that "you're brothers" feels tacked on to make it seem less weird

DEAN I’m glad you’re here, man. CASTIEL Hey, maybe you should um … take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh … I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell—they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.

does that means it's time to trigger another apocalypse? surely need at least 3 running subplots as well. i have no idea actually, i avoid too plot specific stuff of the later seasons in fic these days so i'm not sure what's on deck

they could have milked demon!dean for more in a lot more fun ways (which i surely would have complained about, "don't tempt sam with demon blood 😭") for longer, remain surprised how quick they wrapped it up. they dragged out lying about stabbing jewel staite for HOW MANY EPISODES???? lol

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

-

You woke up slowly. 

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 

Wait… 

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check. 

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man. 

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

... 

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze. 

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body. 

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on. 

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

-

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course. 

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome. 

-

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

-

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

-

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

-

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

-

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality. 

A certain quality of... of... 

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 

Sigh. 

-

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 

The reply was instant. 

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 

Your jaw dropped. 

You dropped your phone. 

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 

This is just an ad? 

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 

At a very specific number. 

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh. 

-

You sneezed. 

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait. 

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 

Whoa. 

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 

Oh. 

Oh??? 

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 

Yoongi was right next to you. 

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[reidgraygubler]

and they said speak now... (spencer reid/reader)

Title: and they said speak now... Request: no Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: fluff w/ some angst Content Warning: swearing (if any), leaving someone at the alter, Word Count: 3,803 Summary: Spencer Reid is getting married and Reader is in love with him. Reader shows up at his wedding, uninvited, to try and win him back before it’s too late. A/N: this is based on speak now by taylor swift. thanks for the love and support! check out my masterlist  

{***}{***}{***}

My body refused to work when my eyes opened. I just laid still in bed, watching as the ceiling fan spun. There was no work today, so there really should be no reason for me to be awake right now. Why was there no work? Because my best friend, Doctor Spencer Reid, was getting married. And I was uninvited by his not so lovely bride-to-be. 

Everyone would be wondering where I was and why I wasn’t there. I suppose it’s not exactly my place to say why I wasn’t invited or why I wasn’t there. I should be there. She didn’t invite me because she doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m a threat. It’s probably a good thing I’m not there. Mostly because I’m in love with Spencer Reid and I’m too late. She was right not to let me be there. I’m no more a threat than JJ is. JJ loves Spencer, but I suppose it’s different for her. She’s already married, and I’m single. 

I remember the day Spencer told me he was engaged and getting married. My heart broke into a million pieces, but he didn’t know that. Spencer couldn’t know my true feelings for him. It’d ruin everything we had together, and I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer. But, I suppose I am losing my friendship with him because of his wife-to-be.

My stomach churned as I rolled to look at the clock. The ceremony would be starting in two hours. And in two hours, Spencer Reid would be a husband to someone who isn’t me. 

“Screw this,” I muttered as I pushed myself out of bed. I made way towards the closet and pulled out a dark blue, knee-length tea dress. I made sure to be quick with a shower and getting ready to leave. If I took my time and doddled, I would be late and I'd lost my chance to show up. 

I grabbed the last few things I needed before leaving my apartment. The church that the ceremony was being held at was across town. From what I’m told, by JJ, the bride wanted the wedding to be in Baltimore. But, Spencer wouldn’t have that. He wanted the wedding to be right here in DC. I was happy about that. 

I parked my car down the street from the church. It was a cute building. A place where I’m sure a lot of brides would love to have their wedding. I rolled my eyes at the sickening thought of his wife-to-be, begging him for their wedding to be at a place like this.  

When I stepped into the church, I smiled when I saw our friends and co-workers waiting in the foyer. They looked happy to see me too. JJ, of all the people, seemed the happiest. She peeled away from the group to embrace me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her baby blue eyes staring into my soul. She knew exactly why I wasn’t invited. She even knew how I felt about Spencer and the bride. JJ shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here. I’ve spent many nights with her, or with Emily, or with Penelope. Many of those nights were spent with my drunk and blubbering about this whole thing. The day after I found I wasn’t invited to my best friend’s wedding, I told JJ that I was going to show up anyways and break them up… She said I shouldn’t. Well, look at where I am now.

I stared back at her, staying silent. The bride’s family was scattered around the room. They were all wearing different shades of pastels and snotty expressions on their faces. In fact, everyone here was wearing pastels… Except for me. I stood out in my dark dress. 

“He can’t marry her,” I kept my voice low as I scanned the room. My eyes landed on Diana. She was standing by the doors to the sanctuary. The expression on her face told me that she did not want to be here, that she was confused, and that she did not like what was going on with Spencer. My heart broke for her. “You know that. He’s too good for her,” I whispered as I looked back at JJ. JJ looked back at me and nodded. 

“Are you-”

“Yes,” I cut her off before she could say another word. She nodded and looked around the room. Shouting could be heard from a back room. I could only assume the bride was shouting at one of her bridesmaids. I wrinkled my nose and looked at JJ. “Don’t stop me if I tackle that woman to the ground when I see her,” I whispered. 

“I will, most definitely, stop you. We don’t need you in jail.” She whispered before pulling me into a hug. I nodded and pressed my face into her shoulder. I was happy that our other friends didn’t come over and talk to me. 

“Save me a seat,” I winked at her. She smiled and chuckled lightly, but nodded.

“Good luck,” she smiled before allowing me to sneak away.

I walked past the group of our friends. They noticed me and my expression, taking it as a sign to not talk to me. I was on a mission and couldn’t be stopped. That was until I heard my name being called from a familiar person. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Diana spoke as she wrapped her arms around my body. I froze stiff. What am I supposed to do right now?! I can’t just tell Diana off and leave her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not,”

“Yeah, I almost wasn’t going to come,” I spoke as I stepped back a step. Diana looked at me with a relaxed expression on her face. “Listen, Diana, I’d love to chat, but I have to get to my seat,” I lied with a smile. I felt bad for lying to Spencer’s mother. But, I didn’t want to be caught by anyone from the bride’s family. I’d be kicked out in an instant. I couldn’t leave, I still have to speak my mind.

“Spencer can’t marry this girl,” she whispered as she hugged me again. I felt tears well up in my eyes as she spoke. “I love him, but this girl is not for him,” she continued. I nodded and backed away from her.

“I know,” I whispered before walking away from her. Again, I felt bad for lying to her and just walking away. I knew if I stayed with her, she’d cling to me. And, I couldn’t just be by her side. Spencer still had to walk her to her seat before the official start of the ceremony. He can’t know that I am here.

The sanctuary was… beautiful… Sure, that’s a word that could be used. Flowers decorated each of the pews with ribbon and bows. A pastel pink carpet lined the center aisle, with pink rose petals on top of it. The windows were covered with curtains that were drawn back, except for the back two. I looked around for a place to hide before giving up and just tucking myself behind the curtain. 

This is not how I thought my day would be. And, I’m sure Spencer is expecting a totally different outcome for his wedding day. This is not what he thought it would be.

 I pressed my back to the wall behind me and closed my eyes. A memory came to my mind and caused tears to roll down my cheeks. The day I realized I was in love with him. It seemed like everyone but Spencer and I knew that. But, that was probably for the best. I knew from that day on I would forever be screwed. I was right though. I’ve never been more screwed in my entire life until now.

I thought about what I was going to say when it came time to disagree with this holy matrimony, though I would disagree and say unholy matrimony. Like, would I say “Spencer, I love you. Please don’t marry her.” Or, alternatively, would I say “She’s the wrong person to marry. You should be marrying me.” Or, “Don’t say yes to her. Runaway with me. Don’t spend the rest of your life regretting this.” 

The sound of the organ started to play the wedding march, it sounded like the death march to me, pulled me out of my thoughts, and to the realization of current events. I poked my head out from the curtain. The sanctuary was filled, except for the back pew. I quickly stepped to sit there. JJ and everyone was sitting more towards the center of the room. I had to be quick as I moved towards them. I closed my eyes as I sat beside her. She looked over at me before grasping my hand.

I looked towards the front of the room and saw the bridal party and Spencer. My heart raced as I looked at him. 

He wore a baby blue suit with a baby pink bowtie. He hated it. I could tell by the expression on his face that he hated it. Hell, I hated it too. It made him look flushed. Or, maybe that was the fact that he was about to marry a self-center bitch.

He isn’t the type to marry someone like this girl. He should be marrying me. Would that also make me a self-centered bitch too then? 

Suddenly everyone around me stood up, causing me to shyly stand to my feet. The bride and her father entered the room and started down the center aisle. I kept my eyes on Spencer. He looked at her like he loved her, but something was off. I wish it was me walking down in an elegant wedding dress instead of this woman. And something told me he wished it was me too. That has to mean something, right? I’m not just projecting my feelings on to him, am I?

She walked past me, her gown shaped like an oversized cream puff. The way she walked was similar to a pageant queen who won the pageant. I'm sure that's how she thought too. She probably thought that since I wasn't invited, I shouldn't be here. Therefore, I couldn't ruin her perfect day. Boy, was she wrong. I’m about to ruin everyone’s day. Or, make it better. That entirely depends on what happens. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts of her winning and turned my eyes back to Spencer. 

Everyone sat back down and the ceremony started. The priest went right at the start of it all and I stopped listening till I needed too. I didn’t want to hear about how the priest was so blessed to be marrying Spencer and his bride, and how he was so fond of their shared love. I wanted so desperately to scoff and roll my eyes. But I knew it was an entirely inappropriate time to do that.

“For those who disagree upon this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest spoke. I shot my head back up to look at them. 

The silence in the air was tense and I knew this was my last chance. I'm not missing this moment. JJ squeezed my hand as I nervously stood up. My stomach dropped to the ground and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. My hands were shaking and sweaty. All eyes were on me. The horrified expressions on everyone’s faces, except for my friends, made me feel even sicker. But I just kept my eyes on Spencer, who kept his eyes on me. The bride kept looking between Spencer and I. She wanted to stop me from saying something, but she couldn’t. I disagreed with this marriage. I get my chance to speak.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whispered as I slowly sat back down. I noticed how Spencer was staring at me like he was surprised that I’d be here. My face twisted up as I stood back up. “You know what, no…  I’m not sorry… I’m not at all sorry.” I bit my lips together and nodded. “Now,” I stepped out of the pew row and stood in the center aisle, “I’m… I’m not the type of girl who just shows up, rudely barging in, uninvited to a white veil, white dress event… But, Spencer, you’re not the kind of boy to marry the wrong girl,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly. Everyone was still staring at me, but I was still staring at Spencer. The tension in the air was tight, and I felt like I needed to throw up. “I love you, Spencer,” I wiped my eyes as tears started to roll down my cheeks. “So, don’t say yes… Don’t marry her. Please… Runaway with me, Spencer… I’ll meet you outside… Just, please don’t wait, don’t say a single vow… Runaway with me, please. I… I love you,” I spoke out loud, just for Spencer. I wasn’t exactly pleased that I had to pour my heart and soul out to Spencer in front of my best friends and her family. 

The priest looked shocked as he turned to Spencer. Spencer was still staring at me, confusion and shock on his face. The bride was definitely in shock and anger that I’m ruining her wedding day. I won. I don't care if Spencer says anything after… I ruined her wedding day… therefore I won. Though that was a lie, I did care if Spencer said anything. Because, even if he didn’t feel the same, my day would be further ruined. So, in the end, she would win.

“Do you… Do you have anything to say,” the priest finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. 

I placed my hand over my stomach,  trying to hold back the feeling of being sick. Spencer just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing. I wiped my eyes and nodded, understanding I messed up and should just leave. Just as I turned to leave he spoke. “Let’s… Let’s run away… Right now,” Spencer spoke out, catching my attention and turning me back to look at him. I widened my eyes and opened my mouth, but no words fell out. Spencer pulled his hands from the bride’s and kept his eyes on me. 

“Spencer,” the bride started to whine. That was the first time Spencer looked away from me, only to glare at the bride. I held back the inappropriate laughter. 

“I love you too,” he spoke as he turned to face me, “I’ll meet you outside, let me… I’ll meet you outside in a minute,” he spoke as he stepped off the platform and towards me. He walked closer to me, keeping his eyes on me. “You’re right, I’m not the type of boy to be marrying the wrong girl,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. Spencer stood right in front of me and held my hands. I nodded and smiled. 

“You better be outside,” I muttered before pecking his cheek and running out of the church and towards the side. I needed to hide from the onslaught of the bride’s family that was bound to come my way. I hid in the bushes, away from everyone. I could hear the shouting and yelling coming from the inside of the church as the doors swung open. I looked over the bushes and saw Spencer sprinting down the stairs. He was no longer wearing his light blue suit jacket and a light pink bowtie. He was just wearing his white button-up, suspenders, and light blue slacks. I smiled as I stepped out of the bushes. 

I ran into his arms and he embraced me before kissing my lips. I melted under his touch. The way he held me close to his body made me feel warm and safe. He held my cheeks in his hands and kept my head still so I couldn’t move away from him. But even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. I was content staying here. We stayed still, kissing each other right in front of the church he was going to get married at, where he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

I kept my eyes closed because I was scared that if I opened them this dream would be gone and Spencer would be married, and not to me. I’d wake up and still be in bed where I was before I came over here. But, when we finally separated from each other and I opened my eyes, I was looking at Spencer. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, happy that he was standing in front of me. 

“I didn’t say my vows… I didn’t say anything to her…” he whispered once we were in each other’s arms. I smiled and nodded. “I’m so happy you were there when the priest said speak now,” he smiled, keeping his hands on my face. 

“My car… It’s just down the street… We can go, go to my place, your place, anywhere. Anywhere but here,” I whispered and nodded. Spencer looked over his shoulder towards the church where more shouting came from. I followed his gaze just as the doors were pushed open. I was worried that it’d be the bride, coming to shout at Spencer, but more importantly me. I relaxed when I saw JJ and Emily’s faces.

“You guys should go if you’re going to leave! Derek can only hold her back for so long,” JJ looked down at us. She seemed pleased that Spencer was here with me. No one liked her. But no one wanted to tell Spencer that. He loved her. But, I guess he loved me more.

“Honestly, Aaron and David can only do so much to hold back the bride’s family. Her father wants to rip you a new one, Spence,” Emily laughed. I looked back at Spencer and smiled. 

Just as we were about to tease back, the door was pushed open again and the bride stepped out. She was staring at Spencer and I with anger in her eyes. I looked at her with terror on my face.

Spencer picked me up in one easy movement and threw me over his shoulder. I held back the laughter that I so desperately wanted to let out. But, instead, I looked at the bride with a smile. She looked back at me, the anger exploding on her face. JJ and Emily held her back so she could chance after Spencer and I. I won. I flashed her my best smile as Spencer walked further and further from the church.

The bride just stood behind JJ and Emily, staring at us. Her face was twisted up. They kept their arms up to keep her from chasing after us. I smiled as I watched them try to deescalate the situation but ultimately held her back. There was no saving the day from this situation. 

Spencer walked down the street towards my car. He kept me over his shoulder. I finally laughed once we were at my car. He set me down so I was sitting on the hood of my car. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, resting his hands on the hood of my car on either side of my hips. I smiled as he leaned closer to me.

“My place,” I whispered before pressing a kiss to his lips. He hummed and nodded. “My place, she doesn’t know where I live. She can’t storm in and scream at us. She’ll do that at your place,” I whispered.

“Your place it is,” he smiled at me before kissing my lips again. He helped me off the hood and then into the car. 

“Does this mean we have to get married now?” I looked at him. Spencer laughed as he started the car. “Can we get married now?” I asked, keeping my voice low. Spencer glanced at me and smiled. “Too soon?” I cracked a smile at him. 

“No, not too soon.” Spencer smiled as he started my car and drove away. “I suppose that means we can get married now,” he reached out for my hand. I let him hold it as I stared at him. 

“Wow, not even going to ask me out on a date before you propose to me?” I smiled before pressing my lips to his cheek. He glanced at me for a moment. Pure bliss and happiness was on his face as we drove away from the church. 

“Well, actually, I think you’re the one that proposed to me,” he grinned. I rolled my eyes and nodded. 

“I guess you’re right,” I threw my head back in laughter. Spencer glanced at me again and smiled. “Although, I never technically asked the question… That being, will you marry me?” I turned to face him. He stayed silent, laughing through his nose as he shook his head. I stared at him and cocked an eyebrow. “So, will you?” I asked out loud when I realized he thought I was just joking.

“Oh, you were being serious,” he looked over at me when he stopped at a stoplight. I stared at him and slowly nodded.

“I was being serious, Spencer. I mean, I didn’t just spill my heart and soul out in front of that amount of people I don’t know, nor like, and you’re now ex-fiance for no reason. I’m being more than serious,” I whispered and nodded. He looked down at our hands and raised an eyebrow. “Marry me, Spencer Reid,”  

Never in a million years did I ever expect to be proposing to my best friend on his wedding day. I don’t think he was expecting it either. Honestly, no one should have seen this coming. But, here I am, sitting in my car with Spencer beside me, asking him to marry me, after he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

“That’s going to be one hell of a love story to tell people, you know,” Spencer smiled at me. I looked at him as a smile grew on my lips. I shook my head but kept the smile on my lips. 

“Is that… Is that a yes?” I whispered and kept my eyes on Spencer. He glanced at me and smiled. 

“You don’t just stop the wedding of your best friend and not expect me to say yes,” he laughed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Of course I’ll marry you,” 

“You’re not wrong though, it will be one hell of a love story to tell people,” I half-cackled.

I’m so happy I was there when they said speak now.

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here ​

[trxignwreck-m]

Fool (Sakusa Kiyoomi x F! Reader/OC) Ch. 1

DISCLAIMER: This is my first proper fanfic here on Tumblr, so feedbacks are highly appreciated! :) Also, FEM Pronouns are used, so if that’s not your cup of tea, you can skip this. This hasn’t been properly proofread yet, so there are some errors.

CHAPTER 1 Giggles and chatters filled the room as the bride and her entourage get dolled up.

"You excited? Nervous?" One of the bride's maids asked the bride, simultaneously plucking her veil from the mannequin.

Before she could respond, the door opened, "Stop playing with that," they heard the bride's mother chide playfully.

"I wasn't," the bride's maid said shyly, putting down the veil. 

Her mom went behind her, helping the stylists with the bride's gown.

"You look lovely, sweetie," Her mom said, smiling softly. 

"Thanks, mom," she said, as loud as a breath, "I can't believe this is happening. It feels like a dream. Oh my God, what if something goes wrong? What if the flowers are all wrong? What if Omi decides getting married isn't for him? Or what if-"

"Hey! Stop. Nothing's going to go wrong," Her sister, the maid-of-honor, said as she stood behind her and gently held her shoulders, "I checked, everything's fine. And I assure you Omi will not change his mind last minute, he's not like that. So relax. Okay?"

"Okay," The bride said, willing herself to calm down.

"Besides, Sakusa would be a fool not to marry you."

Sakusa would be a fool not to marry you.

---------

In the other room, Kiyoomi Sakusa stood in front of the mirror, fixing his necktie and cuff links for what seemed like the millionth time. "If you don't stop, I will choke you with that," He heard his cousin, Komori said, walking up to him. Kiyoomi glared at him, opting to say nothing and went back to fiddling with his tie. "We asked him to stop, like, 30 minutes ago. Even told him we'd tie him to a chair. Eh, tough luck."

They heard someone, Bokuto, say, as he emerged from the room's en suite.

"Did you wash your hands?" Kiyoomi asked, well it sounded more like an accusation, "Can't have your germs ruining my wedding."

"Yes, your highness," Bokuto said teasingly, "I even put some of that fancy-looking hand sanitizer you brought with you. It's off brand for you though."

"It's hers. She told me it's her wedding gift for me. Told her she's the best gift I could ever have," Omi answered, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Kiyoomi Sakusa," A voice suddenly exclaimed, it was Atsumu Miya, "I never thought you'd be this sappy. Then again, I never thought you'd get married, but look at where you are."

"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you," Omi threatened, eyeing Atsumu from the mirror.

The boys continued to tease chat with each other, until a knock resounded in the room.

"You boys ready?" Omi's brother asked. They all looked at Kiyoomi, who seemed to have gone paler.

"Don't worry Omi, everything's going to be okay," Komori said, patting Omi on the back, "I'm sure she's just as excited as you are."

I'm sure she's just as excited as you are.

But it wasn't that Kiyoomi was worried about. Of course she was excited, he should be too, this was all they've been talking about for a year. But why did it feel like he wasn't? Like the bile coming up his throat was out of fear rather than excitement. His hands, usually calloused and dry from volleyball, started to feel cold and clammy. It was unsettling. At the back of his head, something's nagging at him. He just knew something was wrong.

--------

Looking at the sea of people from the altar, he felt a sense of déjà vu. He's seen this setting somewhere. His brother's wedding maybe? But the feeling was way too personal to it to be something he momentarily experienced. Dwelling on that thought didn't really help Kiyoomi's nerves. In fact, they appear get worse. Not even the giggles of his little cousins could distract him. 

Dark eyes swam amongst the guests. What are you looking for? He asked himself. What was he looking for? Or who was we looking for.

He found his answer in the pair of warm grey eyes looking at him mournfully. Why does she look familiar? He questioned himself. Maybe she's a friend of his fiancée? Maybe someone he knew before the accident? He did lose quite a lot of his memories, and even after two years, some of it haven't returned.

Before he was able to turn to ask Komori, who was dutifully standing behind him, the wedding march began playing, signalling the entrance of his bride. Kiyoomi looked straight on, at the double doors, telling himself that all of these are just wedding jitters, and when he saw her, he knew everything will be fine.

Except it wasn't, because when she walked in, it wasn't her he saw, it was someone else. It was like a memory of his was being played right in from of him. The same warm grey eyes, looking at him with bashfulness and so full of love. 

He blinked and it was gone. 

His real bride now stood before him. He furrowed his brows, what just happened?

"Hi," She whispered, as her father gave handed her off to Kiyoomi, "You look nice."

He smiled, looking more uncomfortable than shy, "Yeah, you too."

Her smile faltered, she felt something was off. However, she shook it off as she heard the priest start speaking.

Things were going well, at least that's how it appeared to those watching. It was all good until it wasn't.

As the priest announced the exchanging of vows, Kiyoomi knew he made a mistake. He was already with someone else. Someone who wasn't the girl in front of him. His eyes darted around the room, dark eyes searching for warm grey ones. Amanai. Amanai Kanoka. That's her name. She was his girlfriend before the accident, before he lost his memories. He was supposed to be with her, not the one in front of him.

"Mr. Sakusa, I believe you've written your own vows?" The priest asked.

His hands started sweating and shaking.

"I-uh-" He started, feeling around his suit pocket for his vows, "Yeah, I-uh-"

His bride looked at him worriedly, "Omi, is everything alright?"

Kiyoomi sighed, "I can't."

Sakusa would be a fool not to marry you.

"What?" She said, thinking she misheard him.

"I can't marry you," He said, louder, allowing almost everyone to hear.

"W-what?" She stuttered, hands started shaking.

"I'm already with someone else," He said, looking on to the audience, straight at Amanai Kanoka.

"W-who...what...I-I don't understand," His bride, well ex-bride, said. She looked at him as saw his eyes weren't directed at her. She followed his eye sight and found him looking at, who she thought, was supposed to be his ex-girlfriend.

They never really broke up, you know? A voice in her head said. But she left him, because he can't remember. Another voice countered.

"What's there not to understand," He exclaimed, rather harshly, "I can't be with you when I'm obviously already with someone else."

He looked backed at her, his "supposed bride-to-be". Her eyes were welling up, and unfocused. He knew he hurt her, but can she blame him?

"I, I'm sorry," He started, "I hope there's another way, but..."

He tried to make things better, although obviously impossible. He can't say anything anymore. What are you supposed to say to someone when you broke their heart? On their wedding day no less?

He looked back at Amanai. She was gone. He heard the doors open and saw her walking out. Without a second thought, he followed her. He stepped down the altar, and ran towards the huge double doors, leaving his ex-fiancée to pick up her broken heart.

Next part

[sweetchup]

The Hard Path

Type: Oc Story request

Word Count: 4K words

Warnings: Past abuse and PTSD

Author Note: I know I’ve been gone for a while. Not really any excuse except school has been beating me up. I hope @lelewright1234 likes her OC request.

“Oh, Great Gods from above. The ones that protect us and our families every day…”

Leah kicks the man to her right and attempts to escape. Though it was proven to be futile as she was preceded to be thrown back into the harsh muddy ground.

“Please accept this child as a worthy sacrifice…”

“No, let me go! Stop!” She shouts as the men forcibly drag her up the wet stone staircase to the altar, “Please anyone! Help me!”

Leah’s pleas and cries fall on deaf ears. She couldn’t tell if it was the sound of the downpouring rain drowning her out or if the citizens chose to ignore her. Though, she soon believed it was the later as the citizens from her village began chanting in unison with the great priest.

“Wang-go, Monster of destruction and creation. Please accept this child as your sacrifice and new holder.”

The great priest holds up a ruby dagger he took from his pocket. As he showed it off to the crowd, they roared with excitement. Though as soon as he lifts up his palm they fall into a deadly silence. Taking one last look at Leah, he swings the dagger above his head before plunging it into—

“Leah!”

Leah is startled awake and pants heavily. She realized she wasn’t there. She wasn’t back at her village.

“G-Gon.” The curly haired girl chokes out. Gon gives her a concerned look as he proceeds to sit down next to her. Leah tries to say something else in response but stops short of answering when a cold feeling hits her clammy forehead. Very startled, she looks up to see Killua on the other side of her pressing a cold water bottle to her forehead.

“What are you doing startling us like that, idiot?” Killua says jokingly. Though his face didn’t reflect that as he looked at her serious and slightly concerned.

“Startled you?” Leah slowly repeats mumbling. Using a napkin from the dinner they had a while ago, she attempts to wipe some of the cold clammy sweat from her forehead. Ever so slowly she seemed to be coming back to reality. She wasn’t back in her wicked village. No, she was on a blimp with Killua and Gon going to York New City. She wasn’t some sort of kid anymore, she was a hunter learning Nen.

“Yeah, you kind of started to fight in your sleep while mumbling something and all of a sudden a gigantic storm started to form.” Gon explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh. I’m sorry about that.” Leah apologies, though  it comes out almost robotically. Unconsciously, she traces her chest over where her heart was, the whole reason she got chosen for her “gift”. Killua and Gon look at each other concerned before Killua lets out a soft sigh. Leah feels Killua ruffle her puffy hair making her look at him.

“Don’t apologize idiot. It’s not your fault you have some ancient disaster god or whatever in you.”

“I know you are right Killua. But still—“

“If you’re thinking of saying something about how you should have been able to control your powers better, don’t. Remember Gon and I are Hunters. Leah, we aren’t going to go down that easily.”

“Yeah!” Gon shouts, finally back in an enthusiastic mood. “Plus you’re our friend Leah. I don’t think you would ever hurt us.”

Killua and Leah blink together before Leah breaks let’s out a small giggle and Killua lets out a sigh.

“W-what? What did I say?”

“I swear you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“Hey! No I’m not!”

“Yes you are! After you went and fought Hisoka, you might actually be counted as a mega idiot.”

“I—“

“Killua. Gon.” Leah interrupts, grabbing the two’s attention. Giving them both  a warm smile, she ever so gently says. “Thank you. Thank you very much”

Both burst out into a bright red blush with Gon letting out a cheeky laugh and Killua mumbling something unheard under his breath.

The cute moment is disturbed however, as all of a sudden a crackling sound comes over the intercom and the pilot's voice is heard throughout the blimp.

“Thank you for joining Blimps-RS for this trip. In about 15 minutes we will be landing in York New City. Please remain seated and remember to fly safe with Blim—“

“Hey guys look at this!” Leah looks over to Gon’s loud call and her eyes widen. Her and Killua scramble over to the window. Looking down the three wowed at the great lights of the city. Leah had never ever seen a city so gorgeous before. She had only heard in books at how magical cities were but she had never imagined, nor dreamed such a sight as this one.

Ever so slightly Leah smiles to herself. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ok so you remember what to do right?” Killua says for what felt like the 108th time in a row. Leah lets out an exaggerated sigh as she repeats what she had been saying for the last 20 minutes.

“I have to disappear for 2 hours around town while you guys help Kurapika with the phantom troupe. If I get into any trouble make sure to call Leorio. I also will make sure I don’t converse with any strange people because they will only have bad intentions for me.” Leah repeats, sassily imitating Killua’s voice at the end.

“Killua. I think Leah gets it. Let’s go.” Kurapika says, dragging Killua out of the restaurant.

“You better stay out of trouble, you hear me!” Killua shouts one more time before he disappears out of sight. Leah sticks her tongue out towards him in response before shaking her head. Here she was thinking this trip to get some video games would be fun but all she has been doing is being forced to hide from these “phantom troupe” people while the others go on a manhunt to try and kill them. She didn’t even have a moment to spare to check if there were any special books up for auction.

As she was grumbling to herself in misery about her bad luck, she feels a hand on her shoulder. Looking up she sees that Leorio hasn’t left with the others yet. Watching closely, she sees him reach into his pocket and take out some cash.

“Hey Leah. I know things haven’t been great for you, having to hide for most of the time on this trip. Why don’t you go buy something nice on this trip? Maybe a souvenir or something?”

Leah hesitantly grabs the money from him, “Are you sure? You don’t have to give this to me. I have a hunter license just like you and can use some of that money.”

“True but think of this cash as my thank you for being the only sane person on this trip.” Leorio says, slightly grumbling in self misery at the end.

“Okay then. But don’t think of asking for anything back later. I’m not giving you a single cent~” Leah teases out to the tall man. Leorio only shakes his head before leaving the restaurant to catch up with the others.

“Bye leorio. Stay safe!” Leah shouts out before quickly turning back to the cash in her hand. Counting it, she realizes she has more than enough to get a new needed book. Now just the question was where could she find one. Letting the thought sink in, she leaves the restaurant and begins to walk around the streets of York New.

She knew any new book would solve her thirst of knowledge, but it would be much more convenient if she found one about her powers. The books explaining her village gods and the chosen ones to hold them are few and far to find. Especially hers,.... Wang-go.

Wang-go, The god of destruction and Creation. Originally locked away by his brothers and sisters who feared him. He was locked up for centuries on end until eventually the chains that kept him trapped down began to slowly snap and break. Fearing for the worse, the people of her village offered the gods a vessel to lock him in. A woman with a type of heart defect, a husk empty heart. Now, per tradition, anyone who is born with a husk heart bears the burden of having Wang-go sealed away in them.

Herself was the most recent holder with the last being almost 6 generations ago. This makes the information Leah seeks few and far between. However,...

Sneakily smiling to herself. Leah searches through the auction menu. In no ways is she giving up. She will be able to master her powers and not just a little bit, no, she will figure out a way to perfect them.

“There you are..” Leah eyes a specific item on the auction menu. Zaviers’ ancient artifacts and wonders. On the menu, the store had just auctioned off a scroll yesterday that was only just 30 kilometers away from her village. So there is a high enough chance that the store had a book or artifact about her village gods.

Now all she need is to get there and search those shelves.

“Damn it…” Leah sighs, slightly frustrated. An hour had gone by being in this store and there was still nothing about her gods. “All I need is one book about Wang-go, just one book.”

“Wang-go huh~?”

Leah freezes up as someone blows on the shell of her ear. The next thing Leah knows, she is half away across the room and feeling slightly nauseous. She thanked her stars for practicing her teleportation power recently.

“Oh~ how exciting. You never do fail to amaze me, don’t you, Lele?”

“Hisoka…” Leah mumbles angrily under her breath. This wasn’t good, she remembered Gon and Killua mentioning to her that they found out he’s part of the troupe. Plus after seeing him fighting in the arena against Gon, she doubts she can stand a chance against his Bungee gum. Shifting her feet slightly, she gets into a readied stance, ready to bolt out of there when she has a chance.

“Now, now, I’m not looking to fight you. I’m actually here to ask for your help.”

“Help? Not a chance. Give me one good reason I should help someone like you.”

Hisoka let’s out a chuckle as he pulls a clear bag out from behind his back. He twirled them around with his bungee gum as he waits for Leah’s response.

“Wait a minute…T-those are…”

“Wang-go scrolls? Why yes they are, Lele.”

“How in the world did you get your grubby han—“

“Now, now~ I’m on a tight schedule. How about we chit chat more about this…” Hisoka takes the bag back into his hand before waving it around. Making it disappear in a cloud of smoke like magic, “... later~.”

Leah pauses for a moment, taking in her options before sighing. “Fine. But, I swear to god if any of this plan has to do with hurting any of my friends I’m out, you hear me?”

“Crystal~”

“Okay… so I know I agreed to help. But, why the heck is Illumi here as well?” Leah groans, scooching more into the corner of the backseat of the car. Hisoka lets out a small chuckle from the passenger seat but he chooses not to respond and continues to toy with his cards.

“Chrollo paid me some money for a Job and I need to pick up the rest in person.” Illumi says, his bug like eyes trained on the road ahead. Does this man just not blink?

Leah just decided the best option would be to ignore Illumi’s presence for now. Looking out the car window, she decides to somehow entertain herself by watching the little water droplets racing down the transparent surface. It was strange, the rain in New York. Mostly due to the fact that the city bordered a Desert.

Letting out a sigh, Leah thinks of the possible scenarios as to why Hisoka would need her. Well, she actually didn’t exactly need to guess why, she knew that he needed her for her powers. It was actually more for what. She just— Suddenly she feels her phone go off in her pocket.

Hesitantly, she sneaks a glance at the two men sitting in the front and sees them occupied in a conversation. Leah, determining it was safe enough, unlocks her phone. She bites her lip as she opens the missed messages from Killua.

From: Killua Hey where are you? The plan fell through.

From: Killua Get back here as soon as possible.

Leah blinks and knits her brows in confusion. What is Killua talking about? They planned to track the base to tail a specific member. How did that fall through?

Sent: Leah

What do you mean it fell through?

Leah’s blood ran cold as she read the next message.

From: Killua

The troope has already left York New. Kurapika also got a message from Hisoka saying that their partnership is over with.

Sent: Leah

Killua. Hisoka hasn’t left, I’m with him right now.

Before Leah could see what Killua could send back, a card splits the screen in half. Flinching she drops the phone on the car floor, watching it glitch and fizz out.

“Now. Now, Lele~. Let's pay attention to the situation at hand shall we.” Hisoka tells the young girl with a smile. Leah lets out a shaky breath and decides the best option would be to not test her luck for now. Fighting Hisoka right now would be a bad option especially with Illumi here as well to back him up if need be. Watching carefully, she observes as they drive through the maze-like outskirts of the city. After a couple of turns, they come to a stop in front of a train station.

Looking around confused, Leah mutters out “Why are we here?”

Illumi and Hisoka both ignore her again as they get out of the car. Hisoka comes around to the back doors to let her out.

“Hisoka! I’m serious. Tell me why we are here?”

Hisoka stares at Leah as she glares back at him. Somehow seeming to contemplate his answer, he finally says. “You're a gift.”

“Excuse me?” Leah stutters out as Hisoka grabs onto her wrist, pulling her out of the car. Hisoka begins to explain as he forces her to walk with them into the station.

“You’re a smart girl aren’t you? I’m sure you can understand this quite well. The boss has found out that I’ve had some connection with the chain user. So I’ve lost some… trust… with him per say.”

Illumi signals to Hisoka to go through a specific doorway, causing the three of you to enter an empty hallway with hardly any people. Even with the lack of people, Hisoka doesn’t relax his grip against Leah’s wrist as they continue to walk.

“I thought I was at a loss you see. I had lost the boss’ trust and lost a chance in getting so close to fighting him. But then I remember, your cute little face—“

“Don’t call me cute you narsistik clown.” Leah snaps back as the three of them return to a crowded area. Though after a quick look around, Leah realizes they are back outside yet this time on steel platforms with many trains coming to and from.

“Some just don’t know how to take a compliment.” Hisoka laughs unbothered by the girl’s offhand insult. He just continued on with his task of yanking Leah onto one of the train cars. “It’s just I remembered the Boss being so disappointed when he couldn’t find the chosen ones from the tribal areas of Aruni. Thankfully, I realized quickly that since I knew you are one of those chosen ones, the boss will surely find you interesting and in return, hopefully forgive me.”

Catching Leah off guard, Hisoka suddenly harshly pushes her into one of the private train cars before closing the door.

“Hey Hisoka!” Leah yells, stumbling up rather quickly from being thrown on the ground and tugs at the door handle. Though she curses under her breath as soon as she finds out it is locked shut, “Open this up righ—“

“A Child?”

A shiver goes up Leah’s spine as she hears a male’s voice from behind her. In a flash, maybe due to her instincts or maybe her training, she leaps to the other end of the cabin. With a hammering heartbeat, she observes the black haired male in the same room as her. The train car was not that large, so it gave her a rather good glimpse at him. Some being the cross-like tattoo on his forehead or the crystal blue earrings poking out from the tufts of his hair.

“Oh my. How interesting.” The man seemed to marvel at something and take a step closer. “What sort of power is going on with your hands?”

Quickly, Leah takes a short glance around and gasps as she sees her hands glowing and sparkling. She wanted to practically bang her head on the wall for making a stupid mistake as to activate her powers.

“Oh I see.” Leah takes a step back from the man as he continues to approach, “That’s not a Nen ability is it? I guess Hisoka wasn’t bluffing this time around.”

Ever so suddenly, the man pauses his approaching movements and instead takes a seat at one of the booth chairs. Gesturing to the seat across from him, he unnervingly smiles and says “Please, take a seat.”

Leah breath and heart stutters in unison. There was nothing friendly about that man's smile. It was like staring at the teeth of a poisonous viper, ready to sink its teeth in and go for the kill. Taking a gulp to hopefully moisten her dry throat, she knows she has to force herself to move. That man was not asking her to take a seat, it was an order. Cautiously she makes her way and sits down from across the man.

A thick silence enters the room as the man pours himself and Leah some tea. He takes a light sip of his tea but Leah doesn’t copy his movements. She can only stare at the hot dark black water in front of her. Even with her throat as dry as sand, she doesn’t attempt to drink it.

The man opens his mouth to speak but a loud whistle cuts him off. The main lights of the cabin suddenly shut off and the train begins to slow chug forward, now leaving the station. Leah turns to look frantic out the window.

“I need to go.” She breathes out, her heart beating faster the further they get away from the train station.

“Pardon?”

“My friends. They are still in York New City. I can’t—“

The man lets out a chuckle causing Leah to pause. Crap, what was she thinking. She can’t let her emotions get carried away. This isn’t some normal person she is conversing with, it’s the leader of the phantom troupe. A person with a class A bounty on his head.

The man takes another sip of his tea, finishing it off, before looking back at Leah. “I’m going to ask you some questions. Answer them if you can.”

Leah slowly nods her head. She knew she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“First, What’s your name?”

“Leah.” Her voice cracks a little as she speaks causing an uncomfortable feeling in her throat. In order to sort the discomfort, she grabs her cup of tea and takes a sip. Surprisingly, the man waits patiently before asking another question.

“What’s your god?”

Hesitant, she decides to answer it simply and vaguely. “Wang-go”

“Ah, The God of destruction and creation. Though most considered him to be a Monster due to him being predicted to look as a ugly mix of boar, man and crane.”

“How do you know that?” Leah speaks out. Such information was only known by city elders and holders such as herself. The man ponders for a little, taking a quick glance at the desert scenery that has come to view now that they have left the city, before getting up and grabbing something. Coming back, he places the bag down and takes out a scroll.

“Though I can’t read your native language, I had a native translate bits and pieces of it to me a long time ago.” He seemed to skip over the obvious part of slaughter some to get the scrolls, but Leah decided to not press into that topic.

“Do you know what’s in these scrolls, Leah?” Leah shivers. The way her name rolled off his tongue like they were old time friends was extremely disturbing to her.

“I’d have to read them. I was never allowed to look through them.”

“I see. Then, who taught you your powers? I heard they had to be trained and practiced over many years to use on command.”

“Well, I do have a book that I got a while ago…” Leah pauses for a second. She was in a tough spot. If she revealed that she hasn’t mastered her powers, she could be considered useless and killed. Though, she could also be let go instead. Was it a good idea to take that risk though…

“I see, so you're not well versed in your abilities yet.” Leah freezes. This was going horribly for her right now. She in no way was stupid or trying to make it obvious in her hesitation, it was just this man always seemed to somehow be one step ahead of her.

Being extremely on guard, Leah watches as the man leans his hand over to her. He strangely extends his pinky out to her. She gives him a confused look as a sudden lightning strike flashes on both of them.

“How about we make a deal, Leah.”

“A deal…?”

“I will allow you to use all of the scrolls and books I have to help you gain your powers.” The man pauses for a second and a serious look comes onto his face, “However, in exchange you will become the troope’s temporarily new number 11 and I will personally be in charge of observing your progress.”

Knowing she has no choice, Leah reaches over to agree but stops short when he speaks up again.

“I want your honest commitment. Not to force this on you.”

“Why? Won’t you just kill me if I don’t agree?”

The man hums in agreement, “Usually I would but in this case it would be such a waste to kill you. As well as the fact that it would be an honest nuisance if you agreed and tried to escape every chance you got. So it would be beneficial if you agreed willingly.”

Leah thinks for a moment. She knew the right choice was to go back with Gon and Killua as well as the rest. It was so obvious, they were her friends. Yet,... why couldn’t she just do so.

“Leah! Stay here! Killua and I can take care of this.”

“Idiot. You have to be careful, you aren’t as strong as us yet.”

“Don’t worry Leah. I’ll make sure to retrieve those idiots, just stay here and read a book.”

“Trust me, Leah. I don’t want you to come. You aren’t fast enough yet to go against the troope. You’ll just end up being an easy target.”

Oh… she knew why. She was just tired of being left behind again and again. She wanted to prove she was just as strong as her friends. She wanted to join them on their adventures as well.

Gon…. Killua….Leorio. And Kurapika. I’m sorry but… I can't continue to be left behind anymore.

“I-I. I accept.” Leah says, hesitatingly connecting her pinky with his. She shivers at his strangly cold hands touching hers. Even more strangely, like out of a movie or book, thunder and lightning crashes throughout the sky in that moment

“Excellent. I realized I haven’t formally introduced myself. My name is Chrollo Lucilfer but you can just call me boss.”

Standing up from his seat, he gestures for Leah to get up as well which she does as well. Lightly, Chrollo places a hand on her shoulder and begins to lead her out of the private train car. “I say we go introduce you to the other members.”

“Of course…

...Boss.”

[slashesotron]

can we pls get more priest avery content, im so thirsty for him 😩😩😩

You can! Have a fic co-written with a friend!

WARNINGS: This is pretty mild as far as material here goes. Father Sebastian is a huge repressed dork. Reader is AFAB and a Satanist. Sexual content; fades to black. Self-harm in a ‘penance’ context. A couple [censored] S/ims screenshots as a treat. Enjoy!

———–

You were dragged to church by a concerned friend. They were just trying to help, really. You had told them you weren’t religious, but they insisted- the confession booth is good for you, they said! Just try it!

And they just looked so earnest you couldn’t say no.

You felt out of place in the church, as pretty as it was, filled with the faithful. You spent most of the sermon in the bathroom on your phone, trying to stay awake… but your friend came and found you, chiding you gently and dragging you back into the fray, into the line for confession.

You just wanted to go home, but….

Finally, it’s your turn, and stepping into the dimly lit, ornately carved little room and closing the door, something comes over you and you find yourself spilling your guts.

About how lonely you are, about how frustrating things have been- about being single, about having been celibate for far too long- it all just slips out like something else is controlling your tongue.

You pause.

“… Sorry. I’m sure this is all gross and weird to you.”

“……….. No, I know.” Comes the soft voice from the outside of the screen.

“… Wait, what? Do you mean you understand what I’m going through? Or…”

“I do, and…. Uh, well. It would be inappropriate from a member of the clergy.”

“… What? You can’t talk about sex stuff? I can never remember how, like, chaste you’re supposed to be…”

“…. I can listen, but revealing my own would be… a breach of protocol.”

“Oh. yeah… I guess it would be weird for you to confess to me. Sorry..”

“Ah, no reason to apologize, my child… go on.”

“I’ve never actually done this before. I haven’t been inside a church since I was little..”

“All are welcome. One needn’t be a member of the church to seek solace here…”

“I just… I don’t know why I was even brought here. They wanted to help, but…”

“Tell me what’s on your mind. Has anything been bothering you…?”

“I’m just lonely, I have been since I graduated… I’m not doing anything with my degree, and I hate my job too.. that stupid video store is gonna close any day now, and then what’ll I do? I dunno… Sometimes I just wish I could escape.”

“I see… I can understand how frustrating that would be… your future seems hopeless to you right now, and that’s a tough place to be in….” He pauses. “Tell me… what would your ideal future look like?”

“Um, I guess… A cozy house with nice windows to let all the sunlight in… A job I don’t hate where I can make enough money to live comfortably… Maybe someone I like to live with too..”

“…. What’s that person like…?”

“Like, hypothetically? Because I haven’t met them yet…”

“Yes, hypothetically.”

“Okay, well…. Cute, tall, I guess… Maybe glasses, but that’s just my type. Um… Besides the superficial stuff, just… Someone who’s sweet and kind and will be patient with. Also hopefully likes nerdy stuff but… I don’t know. Just someone who’s nice.”

There’s a long silence from the other side of the booth.

“Uh, sorry. I’ll just… I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, my coworker is probably waiting, I need to go–”

“W-wait. Please.” Another few beats of silence. “…… Could you go through the door at the back of the aisle? Just…. go quickly, no one should stop you.”

You stop, not quite believing what you’re hearing.

“Wh-… okay? I-I can do that, I guess. Do you want me to go right now, or…?”

“Please.” His voice is soft and nervous.

“Okay, um… I’ll be right there, then…”

You get up, hoping no one sees you, and step through the door without looking back.

A moment after, a tall man in black robes slips through the back door of the confessional, gently closing it behind him… and then he turns. Pale, freckled, a sweet, friendly face. Big round glasses, long, slightly messy strawberry blond (in a tiny ponytail as you saw with his back turned), and a softly anxious smile. “I’m sorry, this is…. very irregular, I just….” He stammers as he walks to you.

You blush, mouth slightly open as you stare at him. You back up against the door when he walks over, in shock. “Ah… Father, I– what’s going on?”

He crosses himself, stopping as you back away. “I swear I mean you no harm,” he says gently, “…. Heavens though are you beautiful…. Ah!  My apologies. T-this is- I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I believe you! I just… nothing like this has ever happened to me before…” You offer him a small smile. “… You’re really cute.”

The flush is instant, deep, and he turns his head away. “I-I, ah” Hands wringing, searching for what to say. “This is… Deeply inappropriate…. But…” He looks at you again, a small, uncertain smile. “… I’m not sure what I’m doing, Lord forgive me, but I felt we had to meet.”

“You don’t have to feel bad, I just…” Now it’s your turn to look away, your eyes fixed on the floor. “This is just unexpected! it doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You’re quiet for a moment, and then- “… Do you want my number??”

“Ah, I…. I shouldn’t,” He answers quietly, looking down at himself. “I don’t have a cell phone, but… you can call the church office between services and I’ll usually answer, or…” He looks up, shy hope in his eyes. “… You could come back to confession any time.”

You laugh a bit, covering your mouth with your hand. “You’re actually going to make me want to come to church…. but that seems a bit excessive. Can’t we get coffee, or…?”

His face falls a little and he looks back down. “I… can’t be seen, um, fraternizing with the congregation… outside of my duties. There would be scandal…”

“Really…?” You frown too. “Well… I guess I’ll be back tomorrow. Can I at least have your name…?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry-” He extends a hand and smiles. “Father Sebastian Wynter.”

“Sebastian…” You roll it over in your mouth with a smile before shaking his hand and telling him your name.

He covers you hand in his with his own, holding it for a moment, his gentle grip nearly burning hot. “It’s good to meet you,” He smiles softly, a touch of pink on his cheeks. “…. Safe travels.”

Your face falls at his words. “Oh… yeah, I guess you have to get back to work… Will you be here tomorrow?”

“I’m always here, not to worry.” A sympathetic smile.

“Then I guess I’ll see you then!” You smile back at him and leave through the same door you came in.

The next day, back in church, you look and feel out of place; the nicest thing you had was something that makes you look like a member of the Addams family. Avoiding the looks you’re getting, you duck into the confession booth.

A soft voice from the other side. “God bless you, my child.” And silence.

“Um… Sebastian, is that you?”

A little gasp. “Oh! You came back…” A moment’s pause- “… Was there anyone else waiting?”

“Uh, i didn’t see anyone else out there. looks like everyone’s just chatting after the service.”

“Ah, then… The door, then.” There’s the rustling of fabric as he moves, and the quiet click of the exit on his side.

“The same one…? Okay…” You get up and head through the door at the back of the aisle, adjusting your clothes as you look up at him. “I thought we were just going to talk in there… it’s nice to be able to see you, though.”

He looks surprised. “Oh, ah- my apologies, I shouldn’t have assumed-” And then his eyes flick guiltily over you, and his eyes widen, and he blushes.

Your eyes go wide too, and you smile nervously. “…What is it? Is there something wrong?”

He jolts slightly with a barely audible gasp, looks away. Crosses himself. “N-no, I just… I’ll need to add to my nightly penance. A pause, and he looks back, his expression warm, almost glowing… with a hint of something off. ”…… You are so very beautiful….“

“Thank you, um…” Confused, and fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve- you do like him but this is pretty weird… “What do you mean by nightly penance?”

He glances back down, nervous again. “Part of my devotion to God is penance for my sins. I can’t do confession, after all,” A short, sheepish laugh. “I… shouldn’t be fraternizing like this, a-and…” He murmurs, mortified, under his breath. “……. Impure thoughts.”

“Is this really that bad? I mean, I don’t even go here regularly. I don’t believe in this stuff… I only came here to talk to you, and the day before someone else took me. Does that really count as fraternization…?” You take a step closer, looking up with a worried expression. “I… really don’t think it’s a bad thing if we go out and get coffee.”

His nervousness clearly increases as you come closer, and he wrings his hands as he speaks. “Y-you may not, my dear, but I’ve quite literally dedicated my life to it… Priests, you see-” He sighs, takes a deep breath, and starts again. “…. Priests take a vow of celibacy. We aren’t supposed to go to coffee with people for… r-romantic reasons.” A pause, and more quietly.“….. E-even if we want to.”

Your face falls, but you don’t move to leave. “…Oh… I see…”

A few moments of awkward silence. “….. We could talk here,” He suggests, quiet, hopeful.

“… In this weird little back room…? I guess we could, yeah…” You’re quiet for a bit longer, and then, “Do you want anything out of this? Or do you just want someone to talk to..? Either one is fine! I’m just… I like to know what I’m in for..”

His eyes flick away, his smile gone. “…. I….. I don’t know…. I….”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you..  This is just a pretty new experience for me, and I just wanted to clarify…”

“N-no! No, you- you didn’t, it’s alright! It’s…” He looks away again, this time blushing profusely. “… It’s also very new for me. Uh,” He gestures to a couple of old wooden chairs. “Shall we sit?”

You look around before nodding at him, sitting on one of them as you look at your feet. “Can I ask you a question..?”

“A-ah, yes, of course.”

“Why did you want to meet me so badly…? Do you usually talk to people in this back room?”

That blush gets worse. “….. No. I don’t. This is… Just a room for clergy…” “…. I wanted to meet you b-because….” He hesitates, looks away, voice barely audible. “…. Because the person you described as your ideal partner sounded very much like me.”

Your eyes go a bit wide, you actually weren’t expecting that… “O-oh. really?? I thought so too, when I first saw you, actually…” You mumble that last part, looking away when you say it.

A long, awkward silence drags on in the little space.

“….. S-so! What are your hobbies!”

“Oh! Uh, I like scary movies and comics! How about you…? Anything besides, uh… God stuff?”

“Ah! I, ah, enjoy the occasional horror movie as well… They’re… A guilty thing, hardly appropriate, but…. Well. Do you… Have a favourite type?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, you do? Really? I love slasher films, Scream is my favourite, but I really like found footage too! What about you?”

“Oh, y-yes, those… all of those are good, heh,” He wrings his hands. “Some quieter Japanese horror is also… fascinating….”

“Oh! I just watched The Ring last week!”

“That’s wonderful… That sounds like such a… p-pleasant experience….” Wring, wring. “… It would be so lovely to watch them with you….” He murmurs, looking away.

“I’d love that!” Your face falls. ”… But you can’t, can you? Fraternization, and all that…“

"I’ll… I’ll see what I can do. All we have in the church is an old TV-VCR for the children… If we had a laptop….”

“I have a laptop! But it’s at home…” You pause. “… You know, I’m used to movie nights where we go to each other’s houses…”

He looks aghast for a moment but it melts into thought. “…. If it was after hours… it could…. greatly lessen the risk of being seen…..”

“Yeah, see! We could even go to a bar or something… When exactly is after hours?”

The look of horror is back. “A- a bar? Oh, heavens no-” He clears his throat and smooths his robes over his lap. “Ah… 9 or 10pm would be best.”

“It was just a suggestion!  Sorry… I keep forgetting you’re an actual priest.” You laugh nervously.  "Well, perfect! That’s when I’m usually off work, but… What time is it now?”

He looks over to an old clock- “Ah… about 1pm…. It would be a while from now…. regrettably.”

“Oh! you could just– No, no, don’t listen to me. Nevermind!” You laugh again. “Never mind. Do you wanna just meet tonight, then?”

“W-wait, what-” If this man wrings his hands any more, they’re going to be raw. “Forgive me… what were you going to say…?”

“Ah, uh…. There’s a joke about satanic temptation in here, but… I was just gonna say that, uh. You could skip out on your church bullshit?”

He puts a damn hand to his heart and looks prone to faint “My—! My church–!!”

“N- no, you’re right, that’s… that’s not a good idea….”

He looks away and murmurs. “M-maybe none of this is a… good idea…”

You touch his arm, concerned. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t actually suggesting that you–” He made a little sound when you touched him, and now he’s REALLY blushing. “Oh.”

“I-I guess not. I’m sorry. I can leave.”

“No! Please… N-no. To….tonight. I can… come by. Is…. is that alright?”

“If you want to. Only if you want to… Oh God, I’ve been pressuring you into all this, haven’t I…?“

"N-no! No, I-” He gently grabs your hand in both of his; they’re almost uncomfortably hot. “Please. I….. I’m not very… good. At this. But….” A small smile. “… I’d like to figure it out.”

You take a deep breath, and then another, trying to calm down. “Okay. I’m sorry. Where did you want to meet…? Just my apartment, or?”

“I suppose that would be best… If- If you’d be comfortable….?”

“Yeah, that’s fine..! I hope you don’t mind it being a bit messy… but i can clean before you get there! Here–” Digging in your pocket, you pull out a pen and paper and scribble your address onto it. “Will you be able to find it okay..?”

“Ah- yes. I’m sure I’ll be alright…. um… 9pm?”

“Sure!” Your smile is back for a moment, but it fades again.  "Ah.. I’m sure you have to get back to your, uh, church bullshit.“

He laughs awkwardly this time. "Ah! Y-yes… church, uh, things, heh…” He gets up. “I, uh… It’s been very lovely seeing you again, dear- I mean, ah. I… very much look forward to tonight….”

“Yeah, I’m excited!” You get up too. “I’m… still really sorry if I upset you at all.”

“Oh, no! Please don’t worry… You’re very sweet and kind, I’m simply… not used to this,” He smiles. Awkward silence… then he kinda does a half-bow. “I’ll… I’ll see you later.”

You’re about to leave, but… “Oh… one more thing! What should I call you?”

“Oh! Um… Just… Sebastian, I suppose, as long as we’re out of earshot of everyone here…”

“Okay! Well…” You smile, “I’ll see you tonight.. Sebastian.“

A shaky smile. "Until then.”

He waits for you to leave before following.  Spends the whole day beside himself with nerves; several people ask him if he’s sick and insist he rest, but he insists in turn that he’s fine. He’s so relieved when he’s finally home… But then he remembers why he’s home, and the nerves return tenfold. He takes a shower, makes himself presentable… All the while wondering what the fuck he’s doing. When he rings the doorbell, his heart feels fit to burst out of his chest.

There’s a thump, a muffled ‘shit!’ from behind the door, the sound of the lock clicking, and then there you are, holding the door open. You’d swapped out your attempt at a church outfit for simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

“Hi..! I’m glad you found the place okay, come on in!” It’s a small apartment, opening up into the living room, a decently sized tv, surrounded by shelves and shelves of horror films both on DVD and VHS. To top everything off, there’s a large tapestry covering the window emblazoned with a pentagram.

He’s smiling, but he looks distinctly on edge; even despite the immaculate white button down under a beige sweater vest and slightly darker slacks, the creases down the fronts perfectly pressed right down to gleaming dress shoes. “H-hello!” He answers, stepping inside and nearly falling over at the sight of the flag. He crosses himself, murmuring a prayer under his breath automatically.

“Oh…!  You look so nice, I wasn’t expecting– Woah!” You put your hands out to steady him. “Are you okay? Do you need water??  Here, come sit…” You rest a hand on his back, guiding him to the couch.

He doesn’t budge. Like he’s frozen. He’s staring at that flag… won’t go any closer to it, still murmuring prayers.

“Sebastian…? H-hey.. what’s wrong?“

His eyes snap to you almost like he was in a trance. "I–” He takes a breath. “…I wasn’t expecting, ah- s-satanic m…materials. Blasphemy is, v-very uncomfortable….”

“Oh! Oh god, I’m so sorry, I thought I told you I was a satanist!! Uh… here, I can take it down, okay?” You offer an attempt at a reassuring smile. “And we can just… not go into my room!”

He’s still gazing at the tapestry, now as if lost in thought, not looking at you. “… My dear…. w-why would you want to spend time with someone like me?”

Your face falls for what feels like the millionth time today, and you start fidgeting with the hem of your shirt again. “I could ask you the same thing…“

"D-do…. Do you want me to be here? I…. I just don’t understand…. Are you seeking… salvation? Penance? C-…. companionship? I-I’m not sure if I should be concerned this is a cry for assistance or-”

“I… I thought… Earlier, you said that my ideal partner sounded a lot like yourself, and I…. I don’t know, it’s dumb for me to get my hopes up about things like that, but…..”

You look down at your feet. “It’s not a cry for help, I don’t want to atone for anything… I just like you.”

His voice is very very soft and gentle. “I…. I admit to having allowed myself the unwise reverie of.. something… with you, but…. my dear, am I not….” He sighs. “I do try not to judge. These are modern times, a-and things are changing, but… Would I not be…. an ill fit for you because of, well….?” He pulls a long silver chain out from under his shirt, a large, fine-looking silver cross dangling from it.

“I… I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, I…” You sigh. “You… you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I can tell you’re uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Sebastian…”

He smiles, shakily. “I… I am. But I’m… always uncomfortable. Especially, ah…” He nervously runs a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “E-especially… out of my element. Please understand… I’ve, ah, not been on…. a date, um… well. Ever….”

“Wait, ever? Not at all? Not even in high school?”

He’s blushing terribly. “Er, y-yes. I… I went to an all boy’s Catholic school, and the same for college and seminary school…. And since then, the, heh, the vows and all, so….” There he goes wringing his hands again…

“Oh… Oh, wow.” You blink at him, eyes wide. “You’re dedicated, aren’t you..? Wow…. Well, first, why don’t you sit down…? I can get you a glass of water or something, if you want.”

“Y-yes, it’s… been my life’s passion- oh,” He goes, somewhat hesitantly, over to the couch, and sits primly, clearly feeling very awkward. “That would be lovely, th-thank you very much.”

“… Sure.” You smile a bit, going over to the kitchen and returning soon after with some water, setting the glass on the coffee table in front of him before sitting down next to him. “So! Movie? Video game? … Board game?”

He tenses right up as you sit down, eyes darting to look at you even though he’s still facing perfectly forward, hands folded in his lap like he’s been posed for a family photo. You’re close enough that the scent of you wafts over to him, and suddenly he’s very very glad his hands are hiding his lap. “… The plan was, ah, a movie, yes? Some horror, I believe…”

“Oh, sure! Have you seen Scream? It’s my favorite!“

"I’ve been, ah, meaning to watch those…”

Your face lights up. “So you haven’t seen it yet? Perfect!” You jump up and head over to the shelf, bending down to grab the dvd before popping it in the player and getting everything set up.

His eyes are on your rear before he can stop them, and he’s immediately looking away and berating himself, murmuring yet another prayer to keep himself from temptation. His pants are…. Uncomfortable.

You turn around, smiling and blissfully unaware, before sitting back down next to him. You’re a bit closer to him than you were before, though not on purpose. “Do you need anything else before I start the movie?” You ask, remote in hand.

“Ah, no, thank you! You’re a wonderful host,” He smiles. “Sh-shall we?”

“Aw, thank you!”  You smile at him before nodding and pressing play, setting the remote down and getting comfortable.

He does not move, sitting stiffly like he’s made of wood. He anxiously tries to ignore your proximity and focus on the movie… But his breath catches ever so softly at the first onscreen shriek and spray of blood.

You look over at him, tilting your head. “… Are you okay? You said you liked horror, but… is this too bloody?”  Scooting closer to him, you hover a hand over his arm, worried

The slightest jolt. He looks over and smiles. “Oh, no, I’m fine. Please don’t worry!” His pants are growing painful.

“Well… just let me know, okay?” Smiling at him, you settle back onto the couch without moving back over.

Someone else on screen dies a gory, noisy death. His heart is pounding out of his chest as he desperately prays for strength to control himself. But the next death is too full of deliciously real screams of pain and fear, clothing torn, skin showing, blood pouring over it so tantalizingly that he breaks. “E-excuse me,” he breathes, and nearly trips over himself hurrying to the washroom, practically bodyslamming the door closed. He can’t get his pants open fast enough, already a slick mess of pre anyway, and he half-sobs silently into his free hand while the other strokes a desperately quick pace.

“W-wait, Sebastian, are you–?” But he’s already slammed the door before you can catch him. Getting up and pausing the movie, you head over to the bathroom door, knocking softly. “Sebastian…? Are you okay? Please tell me you’re not getting sick…”

He turns on the water. “I’m fine!!” He calls, almost even-voiced. “Just, nature calls! Heh,” Can a meteor strike him right now please? You being at the door amplifies his shame to a fever pitch, which, for some reason, his dick doesn’t seem to object to. An image of you bending over in front of the TV flits, unbidden, over his memory…. It’s immediately changed to less clothes… bare skin… blood over that beautiful smoothness, and- His whole body jolts as he curls in on himself, biting his fist to stay silent- successfully, thank God- and he catches his breath for a moment before running his messy palm under the water.

“O-oh, sorry!” You call, a bit embarrassed now. “You got up so quickly, I thought you had to throw up or something…” Muttering another apology under your breath, you get up and head back to your spot.

It’s a few more minutes before he comes out; having washed his hands and fixed himself all up. “Sorry about that,” He smiles, “I, ah, suppose I’m a little nervous. Shall we continue?”

“That’s okay!”  You reply quickly, unsuspicious. “I didn’t mean to, like… pretty much follow you into the bathroom, haha. I was just worried this movie was too much! Are you sure you want to keep watching?  It gets bloodier.”

“Ah, I assure you, it’s fine. I’ve seen many movies of this sort…” He sits back down, folding his hands primly in his lap again… With the left one covered.

“Alright then!” You press play, glancing over at him. “…You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable though, right? I worry…”

“Oh of course! You’re very kind….” But nothing untoward happens for the rest of the film.

As the credits roll, you get up, bending over again to pop the DVD out of the player and put it back on the shelf. “Wanna do something else?” You ask, without turning around.

He tries to look away, but ends up looking right at the flag again… So he stares at the floor instead. “Ah… It’s getting late, I should… I should probably be getting back….”

“Oh…” Your shoulders slump as you get back to your feet, turning around to face him. “Is it that late already…? I was having so much fun with you, I didn’t even notice…. It’s been a while since I’ve had any guests, haha.. Here, um… I can walk you to your car…?”

“Ah… I’m very sorry, my dear,” He smiles apologetically. “It’s just that I need to be up at 5 to be ready for service… D-don’t worry, though! We could do this again!”

Your eyes widen a bit. “Holy shit, 5 am?! Gross…” But suddenly you have an idea, and you make a mental note to check your work schedule to see whether or not you open tomorrow. “I’d really like to do this again..! I can put the tapestry away next time!”

“Ah! A-as long as there’s something else covering the window, I suppose….”

He stands there awkwardly, not sure what to say next.  "Er…. See you at church….?“

"I was going to walk you to your car, if that’s okay?” You move over to the door, opening it for him. “The least I can do…”

“C-certainly, heh…. Such a fine host…..” He follows, his nerves amping back up fast, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

You laugh a little, shutting and locking the door behind you as you lead him down to the parking lot. “Which car is yours…?”

“Th-this one, here we are…” It has standard keys… No autolock… It’s also beige. He turns to face you, smiling. “Thank you, you. It’s been a lovely evening….”

“Yeah! I had fun! I really hope you did too. I’ll see you again soon, and maybe next time I can make us dinner or something..!”

“Oh! Th-that would be, ah, very nice…. How kind of you to offer.” The sweet, excited, earnest look on your face melts his heart, and something twists deep inside…. I don’t want you to look at anyone else like that, ever!

He inhales a little sharply, then smiles. “I suppose this is goodnight…”

“Yeah…” You nod, but don’t move to leave, looking very hesitant. He pauses too, but finally he smiles and turns to get into his car.

“Good night, Sebastian…”

You watch him drive away with a dull pain in your chest, but your heart’s still pounding hard when you think about surprising him at the morning service tomorrow .

And he gets home a wreck. His trip to the bathroom at your house is only the first that night, and by the third he’s in tears… He pays his penance viciously afterwards, so much so he isn’t able to sleep for hours from the pain. But he’s there in church in the morning before anyone else, a beacon of light as always.

You didn’t manage to sleep at all, too nervous that you’d sleep in and miss the morning service, but there you are, all dressed up in your best attempt to look nice for him. Too afraid to sit near the front and risk getting caught up in conversation with someone, you find a seat in the back and wait for the service to start.

The congregation hushes as Sebastian steps to the podium; he smiles and nods in greeting to everyone, about to begin his sermon- when he spots you, who blends into the crowd here like a peacock in a bookstore. His jaw half-drops, moves like he’s trying to find words, but they’ve all left him; last night all comes back and smacks him over the head with the force of a flying brick, and in a second he’s blushing and acutely aware that he now needs to stay behind the podium…. he reaches forward to rest his hands on it, to steady himself, gain some composure- but all it does is remind him of how incredibly sore his back is. People are starting to murmur, confused. Finally, he smiles again, and apologizes, charming and collected- nothing like the stuttering mess you’re used to.

His sermon is remarkably captivating, the audience not making a peep throughout… and once he’s finished, he leads them through prayers, then blessing newcomers to the church and taking communion. Finally, he heads to the confession booth, getting entangled in conversation many times along the way… until he slips inside and the door closes behind him.

You wait a while, this time…. It seems like half the congregation has something to get off their chests. People scurry in and out, heads down, one after the other… but finally, people are starting to disperse and you have your chance.

“Hi, Sebastian… I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have come here, I just wanted to surprise you!”

There’s a soft gasp at the sound of your voice, interrupting his quiet standard greeting. “O-oh! H-hello, dear…. Er, d-did you enjoy the service….?” He asks, sounding heartrendingly hopeful.

You hesitate. “Um, I felt really out of place, and I wasn’t sure what was going on… I didn’t know any of the prayers, but…. You were so passionate about what you were doing! I really enjoyed that….”

He looks a little concerned at you words until you praise his sermon, and then he lights up a little, colour dusting his cheeks. “Ah… Y-you’re so very kind, thank you.” He hesitates. “….. I could teach you the prayers… We could do your blessing and communion right now, even…”

“You could…? Would you really teach me? ….. Um, what’s the blessing? And ‘communion’?”

He lights right up at the first half of you words- I could save you after all!! - but he stops dead “Ah… I’d anoint you with holy water, and then you take the bread and wine that is the body and blood of Christ, if you choose to let him into your heart to save your soul…”

There’s another pause, this time much longer and much more uncomfortable. “Uh… the holy water thing is fine, I guess, but… Does my soul really need to be saved?”

“W-well…..” He stares at his feet, wringing his hands again, voice quiet. “An unsaved soul goes to the fires…. The idea of you suffering like that for eternity is….” His breath hitches, and he looks away.

“Well, I mean…. I don’t really think that’s going to happen to me? I don’t even really think there is much of an afterlife, and if there is, I’ll probably party it up in hell anyway. Because, well, you know. Satanist.” .

The look he fixes you with is pure, unfiltered worry and heartbreak, genuine concern, big blue eyes glassy in the low light. All he can do is blink a few times, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, closing it again… And finally he sighs and looks back down. His voice cracks slightly. “I…. I see.”

Your eyes are wide and apologetic, asking for forgiveness. “Wait! All I was trying to say was that I won’t suffer, so please don’t worry! I’ll be okay…”

“I’m….. I’m afraid that’s not how it works in the eyes of the Lord, m-my dear, but….. I cannot- will not- force you. I, ah-” He heaves a sigh, bringing a shaky smile back to his face as he runs a hand through his hair. “D-did you… did you still want to learn the prayers…?”

“I… yeah! If it would make you happy…!“

And his face falls again. ”…. Ah. If it’s only for me, then… that’s alright. I, ah, appreciate your… consideration… you’re very kind.“ You frown too, hearing the dismay in his voice. You don’t want to be involved in this stuff at all, but maybe it was a mistake to tell him that… you just want to make him happy.

He tries to stretch a little and flinches… then flusters. Right. Last night…

"Er-” He starts again, awkwardly, “-I must attend to the flock for several more hours, but, ah…. If you wanted to…. watch another film tonight…..?”

You perk right up at his offer. “Really? Yeah!! I can make dinner for you and everything!”

He smiles, a little tightly, but he eases after a moment. “That’s, ah, very generous of you, my dear… What time would be appropriate…?”

You sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “It just depends on when you’re free tonight!”

“I believe… I should be free at eight o'clock, provided all goes well… would… would that be alright?”

“Yes!! I’ll be ready then! Do you remember my address? ’ll cook something I think you’ll like, I’ll take down my tapestry, I’ll pick a good movie…! I’ll make sure you have fun!”

“Ah, y- yes. I do. You’re very kind, you…. I’m… Very grateful.” A pause. “…. I should return to my duties… Until tonight, then?”

“Okay! I’ll see you later!” And with that, you duck out of the confession booth.

That night, you’re setting two plates of spaghetti and meatballs onto the coffee table, along with a basket of garlic bread and two glasses of water. You aren’t sure if he likes soda, and alcohol was definitely a no-go, so… Water was the safest option there. With the DVD menu for a movie playing at a nice low volume, that tapestry safely tucked away, and a few candles lit, you do one last check to make sure everything is in order.

At eight o'clock exactly there’s a crisp knock on the door, and there he is again- a nice sweater with a collared shirt under it, pleated slacks, shining dress shoes, his red-golden hair tied up neatly at his nape, his bangs partly tucked behind his ears. He’s smiling, looking as nervous as ever, and he’s holding…. A fruit basket.

You jump a bit before going over to open the door, resisting the urge to hug him and just giving him a bright smile instead. “Hi, Sebastian…! Come in!!” You step aside to let him in before going to sit on the couch, patting the spot beside you. “I technically have a kitchen table, but I thought it would be more fun to eat while we watched movies!”

“Oh! How… novel!” He smiles, clearly having never done such a thing before. He hands over the gift a little awkwardly, not sure what to do with his hands a moment later. He sits where you indicate, folding his hands in his lap just like the first time. “It smells wonderful, you…! Ah, what are we watching…?”

“Thank you! This is pretty…. Oh, It’s another horror, a bit lower key this time. It’s about ghosts! I really like it, hopefully you will too.”

“My pleasure, not at all, not at all… I hope you, heh, enjoy it…” Another awkward pause. He obviously had no idea what to get you. “Ah, ghosts? That sounds…. Interesting…. Not about the Holy Ghost, I take it? Heh….”

You laugh a bit, still holding the fruit basket on your lap. “No, it’s… kind of hard to describe. You’ll see, and it’s not bloody or anything.” Pressing play and carefully putting the fruit basket aside, you pull your plate of spaghetti over to you and take a bite as the opening credits start.

He just laughs a little and takes his plate, but then pauses- “Ah, might there be a napkin I could use, dear?”

“Oh!” You set your plate down immediately. “Of course! Let me go grab some!” You hop up and rush into the kitchen, returning shortly after with a small stack. “Here you go!”

He stares at them, confused, for a good second, then hesitantly reaches out and takes one.

“Ah! T-thank you….” He unfolds it, all the way. Looks at it despairingly. Drapes it over his lap anyway.

You tilt your head, confused. “Is something wrong? Sorry if they’re shitty– uh, bad, I mean.”

“Oh, ah, it’s alright! Please don’t worry, dear. Thank you! Let’s say grace-” He takes one of your hands gently as he bows his head. They’re soft. Surprisingly so, for how big they are, and so warm it almost feels like he might have a fever. “Bless us, oh Lord, and these gifts-” He stops suddenly. “…. Ah, I- I shouldn’t- I don’t want to offend-”

The moment he grabs your hand, you drop the fork that you had just grabbed, and cringe as it clatters loudly onto the plate. For some reason, you didn’t even think about the fact that he’d want to say grace… More importantly, Sebastian is holding your hand. It takes a significant amount of willpower for you to not do anything weird, but you allow yourself this blissful moment- before coming back to reality. “No, it’s okay! If you want to, please go ahead.. it doesn’t offend me at all,” You offer gently.

He’s just staring at you, expression nervous but unreadable, the pulse felt through his palm strong and fast. He looks at you, then at your as if willing himself to let go, but he doesn’t, and the seconds tick by, and that beat only speeds up. He drops you hand and stands suddenly. "E- excuse me,” He stutters, and the bathroom door slams a second later.

“Ah… Sebastian, are you–?”  This time you don’t make any move to catch him or follow him, in the hopes that he’ll feel less uncomfortable. A heavy sigh, and you lean back on the couch, staring at the spaghetti on the table in front of you. And then hear something- it’s quick, and it’s quiet, but it almost sounded like a moan. More specifically, someone trying to muffle a moan.

You freeze. Oh my god, no. That couldn’t have been.. he’s not…. he can’t be! …but what if he is?

Despite your mind screaming at you not to, to sit back down and just wait for him like a normal person, you slowly stand, making your way over to the bathroom door- and this time unmistakable now that you’re closer, definitely Sebastian, definitely stifled. You knock softly.

The bathroom goes utterly silent, and there’s a few pregnant seconds before anything else. “I- I’ll just be a moment!” He calls, clearly trying to sound normal, but his voice is strained and from here you can hear that he’s breathless…

You stand there trying to figure out what the fuck you’re supposed to say. What are you supposed to say when your date ends up doing that in your bathroom?

It’s now or never.  "…Sebastian, I… I would. Um. I’d like you to come out here, please.“

Clearly trying to convince you that he’s only in your bathroom to relieve himself in the regular way, he makes an attempt at a joke in reply- "Haha! I’m, er, I prefer privacy when nature calls, j-just a moment-”

“… I heard you. Please come out here.“

Dead fucking silence.

For a while, it seems like he’s just going to pretend he doesn’t exist. Then finally, finally, there’s the sound of the tap running, then the soft click of the doorknob, and he comes out looking like he desperately wants to be struck down by holy retribution. Whole body stiff. Arms at his sides. His hair is in his face, but his head is partly turned away anyway, and what skin is visible is so incredibly red it looks like he somehow got a third-degree sunburn while he was in there. He says nothing.

You aren’t looking at him, either. There’s an uncomfortable silence before you take a breath, measuring what you’re about to say.

"I… suppose I just– I don’t quite understand why you need to hide in the bathroom and take care of yourself like that when you’re on a date with me.” Flushed, the back of your mind still screaming at you, you step forward, close enough to kiss him if you leaned up.

“I mean… I’m right here.”

His breath catches, barely audible, as he states down at you with wide, almost wild eyes, but he’s looked away again a second later. “I–!” He already sounds choked up. “I’m not supposed to do anything like this! To be here! And yet here I am, letting my sinful desires get the better of me, I– I can’t even show my gratitude for your hospitality! I should- I should go-” And he moves to extract himself from between you and the bathroom door.

“What?! No, please–” In a moment of panic and tearing up, you grab him, both hands holding tightly onto his upper arms. “I want you to stay! You said you aren’t even supposed to be here, but you drove here, twice! You listened to me that first day in confession, and you wanted to meet me in the back room! So you must want this as much as I do…!”

The second you touch him, he freezes; and he stays like that, still as death, until you’re silent again. Moments pass, his eyes never wavering from you.

Your voice softens, gaze sliding down to the floor along with your grip on his arms. “….Don’t go. I really want you to stay, and um…”

“….. I could help you take care of that.”

….. Slowly, hesitantly, he raises a hand to your face, fingertips ghosting down your jaw with agonizing slowness… His wide eyes flick down and fixate on your lips, and his thumb follows, brushing over the soft skin with reverence and disbelief. you can feel his hand shaking.

In complete awe, your eyes lidded and lips parted slightly, you melt into his touch.

“Sebastian…” Your voice is soft. “Come closer…”

His breathing has already picked back up, the tremble in it audible, but he does as you ask… Shuffling awkwardly forward and curling an arm around your waist, but there’s still space between your bodies. He starts to lean down, painfully slow like before, but soon enough his face is only an inch away from you, flushed deeply, sweat beading on his temples, breath heavy as if he’d already been making out for a while…. though his eyes are still as big as ever.

Unable to wait any longer, you grab the front of his shirt and yank him down, standing on your tiptoes as you press your lips to his. Everything you’ve been too afraid to tell him pours into the kiss. Your arms wrap softly around his neck and you pull him closer, one of your hands moving to run through his hair.

Barely a second after your lips touch, he convulses with a strangled groan, fingers digging into you back as he nearly doubles over- not breaking the kiss, but effectively dipping you by accident. He pulls off a moment later only to gasp into your shoulder, the shaking even worse now.

You decide not to ask about it, not wanting to make him feel worse than he probably already does. Moving your hand down to rub his back, all you want to do is comfort him. You’re tempted to ask him if this is better than hiding in the bathroom, but you keep your mouth shut, opting for a sweet forehead kiss instead.

He just clings to you for a few long moments, his trembling never fading, his hair slightly damp, skin misted, head down…. until suddenly he’s kissing you again, aggressively, but with a side of near-adolescent uncoordination, his hands running up you sides as he groans, furtively groping at your chest, pulling at your clothes.

You let out a tiny sound of surprise, melting into his touch. Your hands find his shoulders before stroking slowly down his chest, then you pull away for just a moment.  "Sebastian.. let’s go to my room–“

He almost doesn’t seem to hear you for a few seconds, too distracted with getting his hands anywhere he can reach- but he relents, pulling back just enough to give you a little nod, all burning eyes and red ears. The intensity falters slightly, his characteristic nerves showing through, but he follows where you lead.

Pulling urgently on his wrist, you lead him into your bedroom, hoping the altar in the corner is inconspicuous enough. You throw yourself onto your unmade bed, and with another excited tug, you’re pulling him on top of you. Eyes glazed, unfocused, lips parted in a pant as he finds himself barely balanced over you; he’d be mortified by how obvious his hardon is like this (never mind the mess) if he wasn’t miles away right now. He’s back to it in a blink, your shirt  pulled up and his hands on your chest, then his mouth…. He’s clearly never done this before, and it’s like he wants to do everything first, hands wandering with fervour and impatience. The only hesitation is when his fingertips graze the top hem of your underwear- he pulls his hand away, pauses for an uncertain second, and goes back to kissing you instead.

"Sebastian…” You breathe, your voice soft, giggling at the sudden touch, but your laughter quickly dissolves into happy moans. Despite his inexperience, you’re very much enjoying yourself. Reaching a hand out, you stroke through his hair, gently encouraging him to keep going. Your breath hitches in anticipation upon feeling his hand move down for just a moment– before he pulls away. You open your mouth to protest, but you’re cut off by another kiss before you can say anything. Grinning against his lips, you push him away just enough for you to speak. “Why’d you move your hand? I want you…”

That purr from you, that tone, drags a moan out of him as you fingers catch on his hair tie, spilling loose red-gold locks against his burning face. “A Thiarna, déan trócaire orm,” He hisses desperately against your neck, gone to hide and lay sloppy kisses against your skin as his hand snakes down between you- and right down the offending garment. The sound out of him at what he finds is accompanied by another shudder, different this time, palm slipping up slowly, then down- and then he yanks your underwear off and himself down, devouring you before you can blink.

---

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 2]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings: Another death and a funeral (I'm sorry in advance) general sadness but also a bit of resolution!? He’s here lads.

w/c: 4k

a/n: ❗This time only I'm adding lovely mutuals to my tags, who gave feedback in the first chapter so this one doesn't flop 😳 moving forward I'll make a normal tag list so, let me know if you'd like to be added!

@anincurablefangirl​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @supersonicfreddie​ @ogrogerbattle​ @sonic-volcano​ @tensecondvacation​

Part 3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The sound of sirens pierced through your head. You thought you were dreaming.

You were home, in New York, in bed. You had been here for two weeks. The last you saw of Wales was the airport, where Tegan dropped you off and promised to ship some of your things to America. Every day you woke up in your childhood home, a new small package would arrive at your front door. You would tote the boxes inside and your mother would remind you to brush your hair, like when you were a kid. But instead of taking you to school, she would take you to therapy.

You tried to drive there on your own once, but you broke into a panic before you could pull out of the driveway. So your mother drove and tried really hard to act like everything was fine. She would play Bruce Springsteen songs on those drives and gush about his music. You used to obsess with her, but your head usually ached too bad to think of anything besides how much it hurt. You knew the headaches would go away if you figured out how to sleep again. But sometimes your daydreams were too nightmarish and you were terrified to fall asleep and let your subconscious take over.

That's why when the faint shriek of sirens grew loud enough to wake you up, you were only frustrated with your imagination. You had finally fallen asleep, for once. But when red and blue lights flooded through your bedroom window, you realized you weren't dreaming. You shot out of bed in a panic and prepared for the worst. A familiar vice tightened around your throat as you crept downstairs to investigate.

Your mother was wearing a vintage silk robe and her hair was frizzy and wild from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and watched you float down the stairs in the same pajamas you'd been living in for some days in a row.

"It's three in the morning. What could possibly-" Your mother wondered, peering past the blinds where the red and blue lights shone brightest. You watched her grow a frown and the vice around your throat tightened ever so slightly.

"What?" You plead to know.

"Mr. Mazzello hasn't been doing so well this month. The ambulance is stopped across the street."

"No." You frowned, scurrying toward the window, hoping you wouldn't see anything but a quiet suburb. But there were indeed cop cars and an ambulance stopped outside your favorite neighbors home. You watched lights turn on inside the living room window, and a sickening regret-filled your stomach.

You had been home for two weeks and hadn't seen the Mazzello family once. You heard Joe's mother stop over one morning and chat with your mother downstairs. You recognized her voice from behind your closed bedroom door, but couldn't bring yourself to leave and face her. So you didn't.

Your mother turned her dusty grey eyes toward you. They were sad and tired.

"Go back to bed. I'm sure things will be alright."

"You shouldn't say things will be alright just because you want them to be." You groaned on your trek up the stairs. Maybe everything would be alright, but it seemed foolish to hope for otherwise, these days.

///

The next morning was worse than the night before. You were the one who opened the front door to a weeping Mrs. Mazzello. She was as beautiful as ever, hair light at the roots, eyes like stars. But you only caught a glimpse of the lady before she threw herself in your arms and proceeded to cry. Of course, you held on to her and tried to unravel your complex feelings- happy to see her again, but terribly afraid of what caused her such grief.

Your own mother appeared and started begging her best friend to explain why she was in such distress. With a deep breath, Mrs. Mazzello shared the news. Her husband didn't make it through the night. After her world started spinning the opposite direction, she was sent home to get some rest. Mrs. Mazzello couldn't imagine going home all on her own and apologized for showing up at your door and causing such a scene. Your mother cried along with her, and try as you might to express the storm inside of your chest, you just couldn't. Joe's father always made sure to invite you to every Halloween party, and every spur of the moment family game night. He was the closest thing you had to a father figure since moving to New York. You never got to tell him hello again, or goodbye. Now, you only sank deeper into the dark pit that had swallowed your heart whole, some weeks ago, searching to claim it once again.

After a cup of tea, and even a few giggle-filled stories, Mrs. Mazzello hugged you again, this time with a smile. You always thought Joe had her smile, the kind that reached his eyes. The kind that made your heart melt a little.

"Sweet girl, I'm so glad you're home." She cooed into your hair as you hugged her back; happy to know she still thought you were sweet, like in high school.

Eventually, you and your mother stood on either side of Mrs. Mazzello and walked her across the street. You helped her inside the old familiar oak front door, and into the living room that hadn't changed much since last time you'd been there. You tried not to look around, strangely afraid of feeling too attached to a home that wasn't yours.

///

You waited in the car of all places, while your mother attended Mr. Mazzello's funeral. Your throat grew tight at the prospect of sitting through a drawn-out goodbye, and even though you were dressed for the occasion, you couldn't move. Your mother wasn't angry. She was almost afraid to leave you alone. But you coxed her inside the funeral while you sat in silence. When folks started leaving, your own self pitty was trumped by regret.

When folks started trickling out of the service, you demanded your mother to follow the procession, instead of taking you home. The cemetery was dusted with snow that melted underfoot. You barely made it onto the greying green before you were reduced to tears of panic. Your mother turned around and suggested you stand and watch from the car, like your own twisted safe zone. You leaned against the cold metal and watched your mother shrink in the distance, to a gathering between to empty branched trees. The late autumn chill reddened your nose and the cold weather became a perfect excuse for the tears you were suppressing and making your eyes all puffy.

The crowd was full of faces you recognized, but couldn't bother contemplating. When the group thinned out you asked your mother to wait while the car heated up, so you could pay your respects in private. There was a cold looking priest and some cemetery workers chatting beyond the freshly dug grave. The headstone was respectable, inscribed with Mr. Mazzello's name. His casket was in your line of sight. Looking at it made your stomach churn, and you wished you would have just stayed home today. You loved Joe's dad, but you weren't ready for another funeral. You were still coping with the last one you'd planned. Your therapist had their work cut out, that was certain.

"I didn't know you were in town."

You knew that voice. It was velvet cutting through the cold. It belonged to Joe. You turned your head toward the sound in near wonder. Joe was there, standing a few feet behind you, sporting a warm looking coat, and red looking eyes.

"Surprise." You barely smiled as you turned to face your old friend all the way. You were bound to see him, but you weren't so sure you recognized the man standing before you. Joe was all grown up, decorated in dark stubble and expensive-looking shoes. Nothing at all like the worn-out pair he ran around in all of senior year.

"You're just a little late." Joe joked. Or... did he? His expression was empty and he made no move to approach you like the friends you once were.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have come here." You realized fully, digging your nails into the sides of your coat you'd been gripping. Your old best friend watched you hurry past him and toward your mother's car. You wanted to turn around to see if he was watching you walk away, but your eyes were fogged with tears.

Your mother parked the car in your very own driveway and made a move to cross the street. The Mazzellos were hosting a dinner party and guests were already headed in with pans of food in hand. But you couldn't do it. You raced inside your own home and locked the door, knowing your mother had a key and that anyone else who tried to disturb you, couldn't.

You took a shower and cried for as long as the water was warm. As the sunset, you lit a few candles and called Tegan. You told her all about the funeral and seeing Joe and when she asked how you felt about it, you couldn't quite tell her. She cursed in Welsh and her raspy tone was music to your ears. You giggled and thanked her for listening. She said nothing was the same without you around. She spoke to you for hours. Tegan begged you to call her once a week and you begged her to bump it up to two or three more times.

///

The next day, your mother was preparing to leave to take photos of a couple's engagement. You were sitting at your writing desk, going through the latest box of knickknacks Tegan had shipped over. Last night's conversation with her was better than all the therapy sessions you'd received in the past three weeks. For once, since Kris died, something in you settled.

You heard the front door creak open downstairs and thought it was strange that your mother wasn't leaving through the garage entry, and without shouting goodbye to you. But then you heard muffled voices and you realized someone else was here. Who could have possibly shown up at eight in the morning on a weekday?

Then you heard heavy footsteps taking your staircase two at a time, and before you could worry over what was happening, Joe was standing in your bedroom doorway. He was dressed in joggers and his auburn hair was mused like he'd just woken up and bolted across the street to your door.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked you, his luminescent eyes were wide below two furrowed brows. The second time you laid eyes on your friend of too many years to count, you still couldn't believe how much he'd changed since last you really truly saw him.

To make matters worse, you really couldn't be sure of exactly what Joe was talking about as you stood from your desk to face him. Was he wondering about your homecoming, or had he found out the reason for it?

"Why didn't I tell you what, Joe? Yesterday didn't seem like the time for twenty questions."

He only responded by rolling his eyes and clenching his jaw all while stepping further into your room. You trade places with Joe, shutting the door as your stomach churned.

"Shit, I'm sorry." You sighed, afraid that bringing up yesterday might be crossing some kind of line. Since when were there boundaries between you and Joe?

"It's okay, it's..." Joe breathed after a moment, casting his eyes around your room that had barely changed since highschool. He'd spent many nights helping you build forts out of the blankets still decorating your bed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joe asked one more time. The sorry timbre of his voice was hint enough to what he was really asking.

"I tried." You shrugged, shifting a little closer to your old friend. You'd called Joe the morning after you found out Kris died. You called him before you called your mother. He never returned the missed connection.

Now, Joe's brows were pushed together and the look in his eyes seemed nearly unrecognizable, and that pushed you over the edge.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, and everything else. Can we just like, be friends again?" You plead all of a sudden. You weren't sure you ever stopped being friends in the first place, but you'd certainly drifted far from the bond you once had.

Joe just barely grinned. And then you watched as he seemed to relax completely, you could almost see the weight being lifted from his shoulders as he stepped closer to wrap you in a hug. His embrace was warm and familiar. You hadn't felt such peace in months, maybe years if you were being honest with yourself. Joe was back on your side.

"I'm sorry too. It's been weird." Joe kept his comforting latch on you as he mumbled into your hair.

"I know. You can hang around here, if you want." You reminded as you pulled away. Joe was smiling for the first time since your reunion. It was a real, gentle and genuine expression.

"Are you sure? You can finish whatever you were doing before I came over to yell at you." Joe nodded toward the box on your desk with a little laugh.

"Oh, God no." You glanced toward the shipment of your leftover Welsh memories. Unpacking them fell to the bottom of your to-do list, all of a sudden. "You came here just to yell at me, huh?" You smirked at your friend.

"No. I came over because we have a  lot of time to make up for." Joe handed out a loaded statement. But said so with a little half-smile. So you opened your bedroom door and made a show of gesturing he follow you downstairs. Your mother was slinging her camera bag over her shoulder and sliding into a pair of strappy sandals. Her grey eye's lit up when she noticed you and Joe descending the staircase together.

"Well, I've got to run. I should be home by lunch."

"I'll make something." You shrugged, suggesting a change of pace. You hadn't done much of anything besides sulk since you landed back in the states. And you were seriously craving lentil soup. Your mother shot you a suspicious smile as she reached for her car keys and nodded your way.

"Have a good day, kids." Your mother waved as she hurried off to her job as the best damn wedding (now engagement) photographer in the whole state. Joe gave your mother a pleasant goodbye as she shut the door and left you alone with your best friend for the first time since God knows when.

"Sit,  I'll make some coffee." You pointed Joe toward the living room as you shuffled toward the kitchen. Joe followed orders, and you lingered near the coffee maker, finding clean mugs in the dishwasher and putting some other glasses away while the coffee pot filled up.  You made Joe's coffee the way he always used to like it and started toward the living room to offer him the drink.

You rounded the corner to find Joe comfortable curled up against an old decorative pillow, asleep. He must have been exhausted from all the family business he'd been dealing with. You abandon the mug of coffee on the table near the sofa, for when he woke up. And before you left the living room, you watched Joe laying there, seemingly content, breathing deeply. And for just one moment, you felt fine. You didn't feel like you used to; like a highschool kid. You felt like your boyfriend was dead, and so was Joe's dad, but that it was alright because Joe was still right next to you. The things that we're okay right now balanced out the worry that they wouldn't always be.

Joe stayed just like that for the next couple of hours, so you went about your day like normal. Putting the rest of the dishes away, sipping your coffee, and folding a bit of laundry. You were sat at the kitchen table with a new book in hand when Joe finally woke up.

"Hey, thanks." He noted, walking into the room with his old cup of coffee. Just then the dull thrum of a blasted radio and the sounds of car doors slamming in the distance were unmistakably coming from across the street- Joe's house.

"Should you be over there?" You wondered, shutting your book as Joe moved to put his mug in your microwave.

"It's actually nice to uh, not have to worry about all of that for a minute." Joe cast his eyes around the room and you understood what he meant. Living in Kris's house with the knowledge that he was never coming back through the door again was worse than waiting up when he disappeared for days on end.

"Well, you can hide out here for as long as you want." Everything was normal again. He grinned while the microwave counted down seconds.

"Sorry for falling asleep. What'd I miss?" Joe chuckled lightly.

"Uh..." You let out a breath of a laugh, a thousand memories from the past few years hitting you like a wave. But certainly, that wasn't what Joe was asking, now. "Not much." You responded because everything you'd done while he napped, wasn't worth mentioning.

Your friend with tired eyes seemed to consider your answer, and then the microwave beeped. Joe's mug was steaming as he carried it over to the table. He eased into the seat next to you as you raised your own mug to your lips. Joe had yet to look at you, his jungle toned eyes focused on the patterns of your dining table. But after a quiet moment, Joe raised his eyes to look right at yours.

"What happened?" Joe dared to whisper. You watched his eyes stay glued on yours and felt sorry for letting too much time pass. You knew exactly what Joe wanted to know, so you sat your mug to the side and thought for a moment before speaking up...

"He was drinking and driving." You started easily. You had talked through this with your mother, and Tegan, and therapist. The latter helped you sort out your mourning Kris, but there were still scattered fears of driving cars and falling asleep you had to sort through. But side effects aside, it didn't hurt so much to recount the outlines of what happened. And oddly, you still felt security spilling your guts to Joe. You both kept your focus on each other as you went on filling in blanks

"Things were really bad. I mean before, with Kris and I. It doesn't matter why they just were. He was never home and he was always drinking. Then... he died. So... I guess that's the short version of what happened." You sighed emptily. The fights and the misunderstandings and the late nights, all built up and up until they crashed over a bridge with Kris. Now you were here. Joe cast his troubled gaze back toward the table, while his fingers tightened around his coffee mug handle.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You wondered. About his dad. About how he was feeling.

"I'm sorry I never called you back." Joe looked up again. Sure, it had been a while, but you were together again, weren't you? These long faces of his were making you a little too sad.

"Why don't you make it up to me by staying for lunch?" You grinned. Joe did too, nodding in agreeance. The two of you spent the next hour scrolling through Pinterest to find the most exciting recipes you had enough ingredients for. Then you made plans to make dessert. It was like once you started you couldn't stop, planing for soup and bread and even an apple fucking pie.

Joe helped you bake, spinning around your kitchen because he already knew where you kept most things. As you stood cutting up apples at the counter, conversation about kitchenware lulled and you couldn't go on any longer without asking what Joe had been up to, all this time.

"What were you working on in London, anyway?" You asked, a little embarrassed to be so far outside of the loop. Your friend was leaning against the counter at your side, watching you work.

"Bohemian Rhapsody." Joe shrugged, stealing a bit of chopped up apple as you went on cutting.

"Like the Queen song?" You wondered, a bit confused.

"Yeah, like the Queen movie, now. I landed a roll in the biopic."

"Joe. Holy shit." You rested your knife and turned to face him head-on. That was a big name drop. He really was living his dream, huh? Joe was holding back a cocky smirk as he stole another bit of apple from the board at your side.

"Starting right now," You chucked as you reached for the knife. "we're telling each other things again." You pointed the utensil near him like you meant business.

"Whoa, I surrender... and agree." Joe laughed, moving out of the way as you reached for a big bowl. Your afternoon faded into a mess of home-baked goods and stories you'd been meaning to tell each other. Yours were silly ones about missing the bus and making friends with a stray cat who showed up at your door every night for a year or two.

But Joe's news was far more enchanting. He simply gushed over his newest castmates, and the members of Queen he was lucky enough to meet. As your apple pie baked, and you started to make soup, you began to realize the extent of Joe's career. He rambled about leaving soon for the premiere of his new movie. You realized he wasn't going to be around like he used to be. Like always. So you listened more intently to what he had to say like maybe this was the big finale of your friendship where you got to tie up all your loose ends and move on. You didn't want to move on. You wanted to move through this shit together. But you knew that was selfish and you knew Joe had a life to get back to, one that didn't include keeping you any sort of company.

Your mother nearly fell to her knees when she came home to find the feast you made, waiting on the stove while you laughed in the living room with Joe. You insisted he tell you everything he'd been up too, genuinely afraid this day was a one-off chance you'd never have with Joe again. You all ate lunch to the tune of his most hilarious stories, and Joe even helped clean up, while your mother complained about her day and the traffic.

"Well, I'm off to London." Joe laughed like he was kidding, but he wasn't. "The U.S premiere is like twelve days away. You know, I can put your name on the list." Joe shrugged as you walked him to the door. The sun was low in the sky, and his flight for the UK premiere was leaving tomorrow afternoon.

You figured he'd just offered out of politeness, as a way to trade thanks for this strange easy going day. But no matter your friend's motive, there was no way you'd be able to prance through the city and mingle with his superstar friends. You barely made it out your front door in weeks.

"Thank you, Joe. But I don't think I'm ready for all that. I hope you have a safe flight and a fun time, though."  You nodded softly, really wishing him well. Joe deserved every good thing.

"I guess I won't be seeing you till Christmas Eve, then." If you hadn't been so caught off guard by his comment, you would have noticed Joe pout a little.

"Christmas Eve?"

"Duh. Same time and place as always. Right across the street." Joe chuckled lightly. "You'll always be invited. I'm just glad your home to finally start showing up, again." Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and bumped his elbow against yours as he joked.

"Yeah, okay... I guess I'll see you across the street on Christmas Eve, then." You smiled softly as Joe reached for the front door. He lingered in the doorway, telling you goodbye one final time, and you stood there watching him jog across the street, spinning around to flash his smile your way. The kind of smile that reached his eyes and melted your heart just a little. You could have easily settled back into spending every waking hour with Joe. Even after spending all day with him, it seemed like you'd hardly caught up at all. Funny how you'd been fully prepared for him to leave with a halfhearted thanks and a vague goodbye until further, distant notice. Christmas was a couple of months away, but now you had a reason to look forward to it.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[xfangheartx]

Just Us Two- Chapter 1

Ta-dah, it’s here! The sequel to my InuKag High School AU, Only You!

Now, I won’t lie, this might not get updated as often, but I hope you’ll continue to enjoy it!

Next

WARNING: This contains spoilers for Only You, so if you haven’t read that, first, you might want to do that.

Tagging: @cstorm86 @keichanz @zelink-inukag @keepyoursmilesup @myverysweetescape @xxaries-witch-postsxx @ashcanvas @realinugirl @meggz0rz @desiree239 @inuyashaeienni

Anybody who wants to be tagged (or doesn’t want to be) let me know!

Enjoy!

Ch. 1- The Summer

Monday, June 9th. 11:55 AM. The air was getting warmer as the days went by. Where there were once flower petals raining down from the trees, there were now bright sunny rays and the sound of cicadas buzzing. All these changes meant only one thing: summer would be coming soon. At Shikon High School, the air was abuzz with chatter. The students, both human and demon alike, were all heading out to the cafeteria for lunch period. As they did, they all talked about one thing and one thing only: their plans for summer vacation. For instance, some girls sat at a table in the corner, chatting amongst themselves as typical girl cliques do. "So what are you doing for the summer, Naomi?" "Hmm...dunno. I'll probably go see my grandparents for a few weeks. What are you doing?" "Probably just stay home and eat junk food." The girls all laughed while nearby, a group of boys also chatted about their plans. "What are you doing for summer break, Tatsuki?" "I think I'll finally ask Mizune if she'll go out with me." "Mizune? The snake demon girl you've been crushing on for the past few weeks?" "Yeah. I figured it was about time, you know?" "I don't blame ya. She is pretty hot!" As the students talked and gossiped, there was one particular student who was heading up the stairs to the roof, holding a bundle in her hands. She had a look of excitement on her face and she couldn't stop the giggling that was bubbling up inside her chest. A warm blush was painted on her cheeks as she carried the bundle up the stairs. Her raven hair was tied up in a ponytail as a measure to keep off the summer heat. Kagome Higurashi, a second-year student with spiritual powers, was going to give her boyfriend a homemade lunch she made. In the past, she didn't think she'd ever do something like this: cooking homemade meals for someone she cared for. Now that she was actually dating someone for real instead of just sleeping around with guys, she couldn't contain her giddiness. She could imagine the look on his face, now, the moment he took that first bite. She honestly felt like they were already married, even though they were still in high school. As Kagome headed up the stairs, her phone buzzed, causing her to pull it out of her pocket.

NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM INUYASHA: 

"Hey, where R U? I'm starving."

Kagome giggled as she began to text back. KAGOME: 

"I'll be there soon." ^^

INUYASHA: 

"I hope so. My stomach's about to eat itself."

Kagome giggled again. "Oh, Inuyasha..." She then headed up the stairs, passing several students on the way there, particularly of the male variety. "Hey...isn't that Kamakiri Kagome?" "I heard they don't call her that, anymore...not since she and Inuyasha Taisho started going out about a couple of months back." "Are you serious? Aww, man...I thought I could get a chance to score!" "Dude, don't let Taisho hear you say that!" "Are you kidding?! I wouldn't say it to his face! You know what he'd do to me?!" Kagome sighed and rolled her eyes. It seems that despite how much things have changed, part of her reputation still followed her. Despite that, she smiled. She wasn't going to let that bother her. Not today. She was going to be spending a much-needed break with her beloved boyfriend. Soon, Kagome opened the door to the school roof, where she was soon greeted by three familiar faces. First was Sango Tachibana, a third-year sophomore that was skilled in martial arts and Kagome's best friend since childhood. Because of Sango's fierce and protective attitude, some people often called her Kagome's bodyguard. Her younger brother, Kohaku, had been injured from a hit-and-run earlier this spring, but thankfully, he survived the incident and was now in his third year of middle school. Then there was Miroku Tatsuya, also a third-year student. He was a Buddhist priest-in-training who had a bit of a reputation amongst the female student body as a ladies' man. Even though he and Sango were dating now, it seemed that old habits died hard with him. To this day, Sango still doesn't know why or how she fell him, but here she was. "Hey, Kagome!" Sango exclaimed. "How's it going?" Miroku asked with his arm draped around Sango's shoulders. "Pretty good," Kagome answered. "Where's Inuyasha?" "Hey, baby girl." Kagome turned and smiled fondly at the one who spoke: her half-demon boyfriend, Inuyasha Taisho. Inuyasha was in his third year of high school, now. A half-demon born of a human mother and a dog demon father, Inuyasha had quite the reputation at the school for being a juvenile delinquent. He often had a nasty temper and got into fights with anyone who so much as even looked at him funny...at least, that's what people believed. Really, Inuyasha was a big marshmallow at heart with an affinity for small and cute animals. He actually adopted a stray kitten a few months back that he had affectionately named Miyuki. "Hey, boo," Kagome said as she walked up to Inuyasha and stood on the very tips of her toes, kissing him on his lips while Miroku and Sango smiled at them. It was hard to believe that just about three months ago, in the middle of spring, that Inuyasha nearly killed Kagome when they first met. It all started way back in March. Inuyasha had been asked by Miroku to help him recover a confiscated DVD (Sexy-Ninja-Something-Or-Other, Inuyasha couldn't quite remember the name) during the night, sometime after curfew. During that time, Kagome came outside after being bullied by a bratty girl and her clique. Back then, Kagome had a bit of a foul reputation for sleeping around with guys and...well, the bullying got to be so bad for her, that she felt like she wanted to die. That night, Inuyasha nearly granted her wish, but he struggled with his inner demon. Not wanting to bring harm to an innocent human girl, Inuyasha let Kagome go, thinking that he'd probably never run into her again...but it seemed that fate had other ideas. The day after that, Inuyasha ran into Kagome at the school garden, wanting to get flowers for his mom since her birthday was coming, soon. Imagine Inuyasha's surprise when Kagome's idea of a reward was to strip down to her underwear and prepare to have sex with him. Needless to say, the half-demon was definitely appalled by this sudden turn of events and ran out. Upon hearing of Kagome's reputation, however, he suddenly felt the urge to see her more often. Days passed and before too long, Inuyasha found himself deeply in love with Kagome, who began to reciprocate those feelings...even after Inuyasha's ex-girlfriend, Kikyo, came back to town, and Kagome was kidnapped by the deranged half-demon student, Izumo. Since then, Inuyasha and Kagome officially became a couple. "I brought you something," Kagome said as she held up the bundle, which she opened to reveal two lunchboxes. "One for me and one for you!" "You made me one?" Inuyasha asked as he took one of the bento boxes. "Just to show you that I love you," Kagome said. Inuyasha smirked at her before he opened up the box, revealing an assortment of food such as chicken karaage, tamagoyaki (a little bit blackened in some parts), sweet potatoes, octopus weiners, rice balls, and fried pork cutlets. "Wow, you made all this?" Inuyasha asked. "I had a little help from my Mom," Kagome admitted. "I just thought that maybe you could use a change from eating instant ramen, every day." Inuyasha shrugged. He didn't really have a problem with eating his daily cup of instant ramen...but then again, even that could get boring, now and then. Besides, Kagome did go through all this trouble of fixing this lunch box for him. The least he could do was at least try a bite. So, he sat down, took a pair of chopsticks and took a bite out of the tamagoyaki first...and the moment he did, all of a sudden, he found himself shoveling every morsel he could into his mouth while Kagome sat down beside him, giggling at his ravenous appetite. "I guess it's safe to say you like it, huh?" she asked. "Mm-hmm!" Inuyasha nodded. "How come you never eat my homecooked meals for you like that?" Sango asked as she looked at Miroku, who gulped. "Uhh...well...about that," Miroku said, nervously. "Y-you see, the thing is...I, err..." "Well? What are you trying to say?" Sango inquired. "That I'm a terrible cook?" Inuyasha snorted while Kagome glanced off to the side, an embarrassed blush forming on her face. "Kagome, you don't think my cooking is terrible, do you?" Sango asked. "...Well..." Kagome muttered. "Umm..." 'I can't just tell her that the last time I ate something she made, I ended up in the bathroom for almost 6 hours...!' XXX

12:12 PM. Empty trays and bento boxes were the only sign of a finished meal. The two couples remained on the roof, staring up at the sky. Miroku leaned against the wall with Sango, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders while Inuyasha lied on his back with his arms behind his head and Kagome lied with her head on his stomach, her hands folded over her own abdominal area. There were so few clouds these days. Hardly provided any shade, but...they didn't mind. It was still beautiful to look at. "So, Inuyasha?" Kagome asked. "Yeah?" Inuyasha asked. "What are you doing for summer break?" Kagome inquired. "Oh...I dunno," Inuyasha replied. "My parents and I are probably gonna go to our summer house for a few weeks." "The one in Hokkaido, right?" asked Miroku. "That's the only one we have," Inuyasha answered. "You ought to know. You've been there." "Yeah, only once," Miroku pointed out. "What are you going to do, Kagome?" Sango asked. "Oh, I don't know," Kagome replied. "I'll probably just stay home for most of the summer. Maybe go to a festival later." "That sounds fun!" Sango added. "You know, my Dad got me a new kimono for summer! Maybe you and I could go, together!" "And don't forget me, right, love?" Miroku asked. "...You, I'm still skeptical about," Sango quipped, causing Miroku to drop his jaw while Inuyasha snickered. "She's got your number, Miroku," he said, causing his best friend to sneer at him. "Haha, very funny," Miroku said, sarcastically. "What are you doing for summer, Miroku?" asked Kagome. "Oh, you know," Miroku said. "This and that." "By which he means trying to pick up chicks," Inuyasha retorted, prompting Miroku to toss his empty milk carton at his forehead. "Ow!" "Oops! Did I do that?" Miroku asked, feigning innocence, causing Inuyasha to growl at him, but then Kagome gently reached up, took his left ear betwixt her thumb and index finger, and began to tenderly rub the fuzzy appendage, causing Inuyasha to sigh softly, a soft rumble reverberating in his chest, which made Kagome giggle at the feeling. "That better?" she asked. "Thanks, baby," Inuyasha said, locking his smoldering golden eyes with her chocolate brown orbs. Kagome sat up on her elbows before she crawled over to Inuyasha's face, prompting him to prop himself up, too, chuckling darkly as he gently cupped Kagome's face. "How'd you get to be so cute?" "It's a gift," Kagome shrugged...before she soon wrapped her lips around his, causing him to moan softly in her mouth as he pulled her close. Taking this as their cue to leave, Miroku and Sango glanced at each other before they smiled and promptly took the exit. Kagome moaned quietly, her hands gripping Inuyasha's shoulders while he let his hands roam down her back and her nice, slender curves, one hand slowly reaching under her skirt. That's when Kagome squeaked as she felt a set of claws slipping under her panties and squeezing her right butt cheek. Not long after, she pulled away, giving the half-demon a sultry grin. "Naughty doggy," she said. "I don't know any other way to be," Inuyasha smirked while Kagome lowered herself down, laying a trail of kisses down from his jaw to the base of his neck. "Ohhhh...ohh, yeah, right there, baby...!" Another giggle bubbled from Kagome's throat. "You like that, huh?" she asked. "What do you think?" Inuyasha inquired, his crooked grin widening, showing off a glinting fang that he knew Kagome hated because it turned her on so bad. "That's not fair," she said with a playful pout. "You know that I can't resist that." "I know, that's why I do it," Inuyasha replied before they started to kiss, again. "Mmm..." Kagome moaned as she momentarily pulled away squeezed her body up against his. "You know what'll be nice about summer break?" "What?" Inuyasha asked. "We could have more moments like this," Kagome answered as she rubbed her nose up against his. "You and me, alone...together..." "Yeah..." Inuyasha drawled as he brought her lips against his, his right hand gently brushing up into her hair. He pulled away again just to bury his nose in those luscious charcoal locks...to breathe in and drink her intoxicating scent of roses, mint tea, and vanilla. God, he just loved this smell... He loved her. Her body, her eyes, her smile, her personality, her scent...everything. How in the hell did he ever get so lucky?

Pretty hot, right? And we’re only gettin’ started!

[complures-aspiceres-archived]

More background on Beel + potential ‘influences’

      SO, let’s start with pointing out some fun things about the history we know of from snippets of the game, yeah? In one of the chats that we ( the MC ) spies on, Lucifer has come down with a cold and Mammon and Satan are ( more or less ) joking about him being weakened and poisoning his food;

      Beel chimes in and says, “Mammon, I’m keeping watch outside Lucifer’s room while he’s sleeping, so you’re not getting in. Satan, I’ll be tasting any food sent in to Lucifer to make sure it isn’t poisoned.”  Mammon retaliates by saying, “ Hmph. I figured Lucifer’s bodyguard would show up and ruin everything...” To which Asmodeus pipes up with, “Mmhm. Even during the Great Celestial War, Beel was always there protecting Lucifer.”

      From this ALONE, we can assume that Beel and Lucifer have a closer relationship than the small snippets of the game is able to show us. Doing my own research on BEELZEBUB, namely from wikipedia, it is said that Beelzebub ( from either Hebrew or Christian bible I can’t remember ) was a chief lieutenant of Lucifer. ‘Similarly, the 17′th century exorcist Sebastian Michaelis, in his Admirable History, placed Beelzebub among the three most prominent fallen angels, the other two being Lucifer and Leviathan.’ Beelzebub has been associated with the deadly sin of PRIDE by some, gluttony by others, and also a prince of false gods. In texts of the TYPICAL Beelzebub, he has been held responsible for many demonic possessions-- and in the chapter of Luke, the Pharisees disparagingly accused JESUS of using Beelzebub’s demonic power to heal people.

      Now, in the Testament of Solomon, Beelzebub ( actually Beelzebul here but w/e ) appears as a prince of demons who was formerly a leading heavenly angel who was associated with the star Hesperus. ( This is the normal Greek name for the planet Venus. ) Beelzebub claims to cause destruction through tyrants, and to cause demons to be worshiped among men, to excite priests to lust-- and several others. The main excluding factor in this case is that Beelzebub is synonymous with Lucifer, which he clearly is not in OM. 

      Without delving in further down the rabbit hole of demonology essentially, let’s move on to his possible INFLUENCES. ( Aka similar to how Asmodeus, as the avatar of lust, is able to charm most living things into submission. ) Keep in mind that I am far from an EXPERT in any of this and am ignorant in many of the influences demons are said to have canonically ( if you do believe in that. ). 

      We can go ahead and pass a card on charm because demons are typically seen as beings of temptation, so ( to me ) it would be perfectly reasonable to say all of the brothers have some level of influence attributed to charm. If we were to throw a little classic Beelzebub in there, say he’s able to possess people, and potentially other demons. 

      It’s also worth mentioning that, while GLUTTONY is usually attributed to ( and especially in Beel’s case here ) the consumption of too much food-- that is only one aspect of the vice. Gluttony basically applies to anything that isn't inherently bad to begin with, but does become inherently wrong and an example of gluttony when you consume/overdo/abuse/use it to the point where it becomes not only wasteful for how much it’s used, but it could also be harmful to your health since it could be a toxicant and harmful to others and since you aren’t keeping a proper balance for which others can use the resource/thing. This expands Beel’s potential reign of influence by...A LOT. One could almost say that his influence with temptation, while different from lust, is actually WORSE if you look at gluttony in that light. 

      TLDR; Even though Beel is the sixth born ( and Diavolo apparently ranked them by power if I’m not mistaken ), he’s still insanely strong and was/is closer to Lucifer than the game lets on...considering it really doesn’t shed any light on their relationship apart from that one chat. ( At least that I’ve been able to discover. ) His ‘influence’ also probably has a pretty wide scope and it might be used in the way of quietly tempting others into unhealthy habits that fall under the gluttonous category. ( don’t....ask me how that works yet I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA. ) Also just regular charm/temptation as a demon and he’s probably able to possess/control people and lower class demons if he ever actually feels like it.

[umbra-speculum]

MORE BACKGROUND ON BEEL + POTENTIAL ‘INFLUENCES’

     SO, let’s start with pointing out some fun things about the history we know of from snippets of the game, yeah? In one of the chats that we ( the MC ) spies on, Lucifer has come down with a cold and Mammon and Satan are ( more or less ) joking about him being weakened and poisoning his food;

     Beel chimes in and says, “Mammon, I’m keeping watch outside Lucifer’s room while he’s sleeping, so you’re not getting in. Satan, I’ll be tasting any food sent in to Lucifer to make sure it isn’t poisoned.”  Mammon retaliates by saying, “ Hmph. I figured Lucifer’s bodyguard would show up and ruin everything…” To which Asmodeus pipes up with, “Mmhm. Even during the Great Celestial War, Beel was always there protecting Lucifer.”

     From this ALONE, we can assume that Beel and Lucifer have a closer relationship than the small snippets of the game is able to show us. Doing my own research on BEELZEBUB, namely from wikipedia, it is said that Beelzebub ( from either Hebrew or Christian bible I can’t remember ) was a chief lieutenant of Lucifer. ‘Similarly, the 17′th century exorcist Sebastian Michaelis, in his Admirable History, placed Beelzebub among the three most prominent fallen angels, the other two being Lucifer and Leviathan.’ Beelzebub has been associated with the deadly sin of PRIDE by some, gluttony by others, and also a prince of false gods. In texts of the TYPICAL Beelzebub, he has been held responsible for many demonic possessions– and in the chapter of Luke, the Pharisees disparagingly accused JESUS of using Beelzebub’s demonic power to heal people.

     Now, in the Testament of Solomon, Beelzebub ( actually Beelzebul here but w/e ) appears as a prince of demons who was formerly a leading heavenly angel who was associated with the star Hesperus. ( This is the normal Greek name for the planet Venus. ) Beelzebub claims to cause destruction through tyrants, and to cause demons to be worshiped among men, to excite priests to lust– and several others. The main excluding factor in this case is that Beelzebub is synonymous with Lucifer, which he clearly is not in OM.

     Without delving in further down the rabbit hole of demonology essentially, let’s move on to his possible INFLUENCES. ( Aka similar to how Asmodeus, as the avatar of lust, is able to charm most living things into submission. ) Keep in mind that I am far from an EXPERT in any of this and am ignorant in many of the influences demons are said to have canonically ( if you do believe in that. ).

     We can go ahead and pass a card on charm because demons are typically seen as beings of temptation, so ( to me ) it would be perfectly reasonable to say all of the brothers have some level of influence attributed to charm. If we were to throw a little classic Beelzebub in there, say he’s able to possess people, and potentially other demons.

     It’s also worth mentioning that, while GLUTTONY is usually attributed to ( and especially in Beel’s case here ) the consumption of too much food– that is only one aspect of the vice. Gluttony basically applies to anything that isn’t inherently bad to begin with, but does become inherently wrong and an example of gluttony when you consume/overdo/abuse/use it to the point where it becomes not only wasteful for how much it’s used, but it could also be harmful to your health since it could be a toxicant and harmful to others and since you aren’t keeping a proper balance for which others can use the resource/thing. This expands Beel’s potential reign of influence by…A LOT. One could almost say that his influence with temptation, while different from lust, is actually WORSE if you look at gluttony in that light.

     TLDR; Even though Beel is the sixth born ( and Diavolo apparently ranked them by power if I’m not mistaken ), he’s still insanely strong and was/is closer to Lucifer than the game lets on…considering it really doesn’t shed any light on their relationship apart from that one chat. ( At least that I’ve been able to discover. ) His ‘influence’ also probably has a pretty wide scope and it might be used in the way of quietly tempting others into unhealthy habits that fall under the gluttonous category. ( don’t….ask me how that works yet I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA. ) Also just regular charm/temptation as a demon and he’s probably able to possess/control people and lower class demons if he ever actually feels like it.

[resilivero]

Please do 40-81

40. Do you track the music you listen to through last.fm or renaissance or similar apps?

No, but I’m thinking about getting spotify.

41. Flags and signs at concerts: yes or no?

Nah, I can’t hold something up for so long. xD

42. Name the top 5 albums you could listen to for the rest of your life

 Bloody Kisses & October Rust - Type O Negative; British Steel - Judas Priest; Inside the Electric Circus - W. A. S. P.; Follow the Leader - Korn

43. If you could meet your fav artist to have a chat around coffee, what would you tell them?

I’d tell them, that their songs really helped me through some tough times and that I:m thankful that they shared their creativity with the world.

44. Is there a festival you’d wish to go to some day?

I always wanted to visit the Metal Days, but that isn’t possible anymore. Hmm… the WGT would be awesome.

45. Meet and greet at concerts: yes or no?

Depends on the band… But mostly: No.

46. What was the loudest crowd ever? Tell me about it

I’d say Iron Maiden at Wacken 2016. I didn’t even actively watch them,because there were too many people, but you could here the crowd from far away.

47. Who was the first artist you saw live?

A german metalcore band called Callejon.

48. Do you have concerts planned?

I do… Queensryche,The Sisters of Mercy & Knorkator… All playing in Berlin in Autumn/Winter.

49. Tell me about the next release from an artist you’re really looking forward to

I’m always waiting for more stuff from Judas Priest,but there’s nothing specific that I’m looking forward to right now.

50. Have you ever made a playlist for someone?

Nope. Haven’t really made any for myself either.xD

51. What is your fav instrument?

Drums & Bass Guitar

52. Do you play an instrument yourself or sing?

I do sing, but you really wouldn’t want to hear me…>,>

53. Have you ever been to the first show / tour of an artist?

I don’t think so. 

54. Have you ever been to the last show / farewell tour of an artist?

I’ve been to the last show of Twisted Sister in Germany; Wacken 2016.

55. Have you ever been inside a recording studio?

Technically yeah… My boyfriend has a small recording studio and I’ve been there watching him do recordings.

56. The cheapest and most expensive tickets you ever bought: who was it? was it worth it?

Most expensive: Wacken 2018 and it was very much worth it. The least expensive: A local band whose name I’ve already forgotten, but it was still worth it because the night was awesome.

57. Have you ever regretted seeing an artist live?

Not yet.

58. Have you ever wrote a song yourself?

Nah, I don’t have that kind of talent.

59. Post a picture from a gig that you’ve taken and that you’re proud of

Will do that separately.

60. Have you ever been to a concert just for the opening act?

No.

61. If you could bring back one artist/band, who would it be?

Peter Steele. And I will never change my mind about this.

62. What was the longest time you’ve queued for an artist and who was it?

It was Korn and I had to wait in line for almost an hour.

63. Name 3 songs that you could have written

She burned me down - Type O Negative; No Surrender - Judas Priest; The Real Me -W. A. S. P.

64. Name 3 songs that empower you

Wild Child - W. A. S. P.; I miss the Misery - Halestorm; We hate Everyone - Type O Negative

65. What is the theme song of your life at the moment?

Sweet Cheetah - W. A. S. P.

66. Name your fav artist from your country

Nina Hagen & Oomph!

67. Who is your fav musician?

Of all time? Peter Steele. Still alive? Rob Halford & Blackie Lawless.

68. Tell me about a soundtrack in movies or tv shows that really left an impression on you. It can be just a song during a specific scene

The Tarzan Soundtrack left a huge impression on me. Still love the songs.

69. Do you have specific memories from your childhood that are music related? Tell me about it

I remember my mother always listening to 80’s new wave and some rock. That left it’s mark on my taste in music.

70. What is your go to song for a karaoke night?

I don’t do karaoke… :D

71. Who is your fav songwriter?

Peter Steele.

72. Do you like songs from an artist you can’t stand? who is it and which ones?

Not really, no.

73. What is your fav musical?

I’m not really a musical person, but I think I would really like Tarzan or The Lion King or Cats.

74. What is the name of your most original playlist?

I don’t have any playlists.:/

75. Is there songs you just never skip when they come on shuffle? Which ones?

Most definitely! Painkiller -Judas Priest, Angry Inch - Type O Negative, Walk - Pantera, and many more,

76. Are there songs you only listen to when you’re in a specific mood?

Tons of them… generally I have to really be in a certain mood for Korn, Henry Rollins Band, Danzig, Kidneythieves and quite a few others.

77. Give me the title of a song i need to listen to right now and I’ll give you one

Sleeping (in the fire) - W. A. S. P. , because it’s just beautiful.

78. What is your fav song from the year you were born?

Black Forever - W. A. S. P. (if you take the release date for Japan)

79. What is the most important to you in a song: the lyrics, the melody, the voice range?

All of them together. There’s nothing worse than a song where one of those doesn’t fit with the rest.

80. If you had to choose one live album, what would it be?

he Origin of the Feces (Not Live at Brighton Beach) - Type O Negative

81. What is one song that doesn’t have a studio version but really should?

Korn ft. Slipknot - Sabotage Cover

[continuouscalamity]

CHAPTER 5 - EVENT

Byakuya gathered people at the Elsinore Stream after sending out a message in the group chat. Makoto, Rantaro, Mahiru, and Taeko arrive.

"Alright, so... to begin, I'll precipice now that the things I need to discuss will... violently impair your vision of me." Togami says, but pauses. "Well-- I do know that I'm not well respected, so I'm not concerned."

"I'm also curious on why you think I gathered you here. Any theories before I say it?" Togami puts his hands on his hips. He shoots Mahiru a look though. Not you.

“Uhm, well....” Rantaro makes sure to stretch that well as he exchanges glances between Togami and Mahiru. Okay. Keep your secrets. He puts on a coy smile. “You and Naegi wanna get married and want Mahiru to be the priest. And I’m the best man.” He chuckled.

"What-- no," Togami shakes his head.

"It's actually quite the opposite in... tone, I suppose." Togami says with a hum, rubbing at his chin and averting his eyes. "It's not something most people would want to hear coming out of somebody's mouth-- someone who they've been surviving with for the weeks we've been here."

He pauses, taking a deep breath, before looking at the others with a steely expression. "I'm not the Ultimate Swordsman." Togami confesses, fists clutched to his sides. "In fact, I'm proficient in most, if not all, weapons."

"My true talent is an assassin."

Naegi only frowns, tightening his grip around his rabbit. He stares at the ground with a sullen expression; supposes he's heard it before.

“...Assassin, huh?” 

Rantaro swallows hard and tries not to make that scary face that’s really begging to come out right now.

“I can see why you didn’t want to be upfront about it.” Togami is his friend. Maybe he was just doing it for money’s sake or for the sake of his family. In that degree he can understand.

Togami nods. 

"It's... complicated. But is is for my family." Togami says, pressing his lips into a thin line, hand nervously resting at the hilt of his sword. Not a very great place to put your hand after admitting something so deadly. 

 "They-- I was trained, since childhood. To be their killer."

Mahiru frowns, but it's concerned, worried. She has a big mouth, but she's ready to jump in if Togami needs, but...she probably shouldn't.

Togami licks his lips nervously. "I've told Koizumi and Makoto about it already." 

"But it's a shock for... the rest of you."   

Mahiru ducks her head. Sorry, Rantaro. Wasn't her secret to tell. 

“Right. Right...To say that it’s a shock is really an understatement.” 

Rantaro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The private eye shook his head but he couldn’t be mad at them. He  had a couple of secrets of his own, he understood the pressure of keeping them. “But why come out as Ultimate Assassin now? I’m sorry, but you look like the type to keep this to yourself until it’s really dire.” 

"The motive," Mahiru says quietly, grimacing. Fuck them puppets.

He nods. "Truthfully, it is dire." Togami says with a shrug. "But... seeing as we're in a killing game, my survival rate has always been close to nothing-- even for someone with my caliber, and the--" Being cut off with Mahiru's voice, he nods. "Yes, the motive."

"I spoke to miss Traitor about the... motives. That they could be targeting specific people brought here." He says. "I suspected this one could be targeting me, in specific." "And I also suspected that because of the rooms in Elsinore Castle-- there's no possible explanation for them knowing who'd still be alive by now unless... they arranged it."

Mahiru visibly flinches at the 'nickname,' panicked for a moment as she hasn't actually told everyone yet. Thankfully, most of the people here already do know, but...Well. Maybe Togami told Naegi already. Maybe she doesn't have to explain herself a third time. 

Togami did not, when they were talking, bring up the castle rooms thing.

 "So...it's scripted?" She says, voice rising in slight hysteria before she forcibly lowers it.

Well, great. Taeko’s face scrunches, almost unconsciously.

“I’m surprised you waited this long,” She pauses. It lingers for a beat too long. “To tell everyone about this, I mean. That’s quite the talent. Honestly, I feel like finding that out would make people too intimidated to try killing you. Not the opposite,”

The words coming out of her mouth are more impartial than she had thought they’d be, and fiddles with the leather of her gloves. She hadn’t particularly thought that he was clean of bloodshed, with how he spoke of his talent. The fact that he was an assassin was..something of a shock, though.

There’s a tiny part of her brain that makes Taeko wonder why Byakuya wouldn’t tell her something like this, but almost makes her scoff. They’ve only been speaking to each other a month or so. This isn’t the sort of information you share with someone that distant.

Or maybe not, considering how Makoto and Mahiru don’t seem surprised at all.

“Well, why tell us now? I’d say this motive is optimal for you, considering him,” Taeko gestures vaguely to Makoto, “But you also aren’t the type to stoop to such a level,” Or is he? She’s not sure she knows anymore.

If her nails were exposed, she’d be inspecting them. As it is, though, Taeko just crosses her arms and sends Byakuya a raised eyebrow.

"I... am not." Togami shakes his head a bit hesitantly. "But considering the motive, it nearly hit me enough to do so, but... now I suspect they've scripted it on purpose." He gestures to Mahiru. As she said.

"A mere hunch-- It isn't like anyone else could've taken advantage of a motive aside from the ones who did, but perhaps that's the thing. Some people could've, but didn't. The ones who did... well, with all the preparation for those executions, it makes me wonder."

"I'm not here to start a conspiracy though-- I'm here to admit my secret. And I have." He says, picking at the end of his sword handle idly. "Truly, I didn't have a choice of telling you earlier, nonetheless."

He glances at Taeko. "My family knows by now-- they find out somehow, and it always happens. They always know when someone in the family has said too much, and that person is found dead quickly. Surely, now that I've admitted it to you all, I don't really..."

Ah, he remembers what Mahiru told him. "I just-- simply know that... even if they come for me, I won't allow myself to die on their whims." He says. "And if I succumbed to this motive, I'd either escape with a plus one and be killed, or... be executed by the puppets."

“....” Oh fuck, he’s going to kill one of us isn’t he. Rantaro bites his tongue. No. It’s wrong to think of that...But that’s the message he’s trying to convey isn’t it.

"We're not going to let you die on their whims," Mahiru corrects, looking at him seriously. "You're not alone in this. If we're breaking the script, we're breaking it together."

She crosses her arms, trying remain unaffected by the growing tension around the group.

"None of us are going to die on the game maker's terms or anyone else's." Bold of a traitor to say, but okay.

Byakuya just nods.

He hates hearing him say it; he's doomed to death, but Naegi doesn't want to accept it... he just can't accept it. He pulls his bunny up to his chest, frown etched onto his face.

"Exactly what Koizumi-san said... Byakuya, I know we're gonna figure something out..." His voice is weak, and embarrassingly enough, unsure-- but he has the faith... surely, he does.

Rantaro looked at the ground and sighed. He’d take a bullet for the people- no, friends around him. He knows he’ll be okay but they’re all he’s got to lose.  Amami takes a deep breath, digging his foot into the ground. “We’ll...We’ll be fine.”

“If you know that much about your family’s methods, I’m sure you could find a way to avoid it. Better to fight than perish like a dog at the hands of the puppets.” Because as much as Taeko cares about him, she’s not going to let him kill the rest of them just to escape. Sorry buddy.

"And-- you will be fine. Everyone here is going to be fine, I just supposed it'd be better to... let it be done. I am going to fight."

He grips his sword handle, pulling it from it's sheath-- that's not the bamboo sword he typically held, that was... it had to have been taken from his room in the castle.

"To the very last breath."

He turns the sword on himself.

SHNK--!!

He collapses to his knees as it spears through his abdomen.

"Byakuya-" Mahiru is over by the swordsman's side before she realizes where her feet are taking her. She's holding back something like a scream, like a sob, but what really comes out is a half-anguished, half-angry "What the fuck?"

“You idiot,” Taeko hisses, running to his side. “What are you- you-“ She’s panicking. Oh boy.

"BYAKUYA!--"

Naegi screams, dropping his stupid rabbit and he rushes to his side, eyes wide in a horrified expression. He drops to his knees next to him, hands shaking and he wants to do something, but he doesn't know what-- how to--

There are tears streaming down his cheeks, he didn't even notice when they had started to overflow, but they aren't stopping. "W-What do I--"

“T- TOGAMI!” Rantaro is too in shock to move at first but he quickly shakes out of it once the others are surrounding him. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- “We need to take him-“ Oh fuck the nurse is dead.

“W-we can’t take it out. The. The blood loss—“ Taeko’s mouth is barely forming words, and her hands are fluttering. “Do you think Iruma-san’s room has medical supplies in it?”

Togami coughs, blood spilling from his chin and splattering droplets onto the grass below. He's basically keeling over by now- shaking as he grips the sword handle with all his might-- fuck, the blade is pierced straight through him,

"I-It hurts--"

“Y-Yeah! But were going to have to be quick about it!” Rantaro pushes Naegi out of the way and tries to carry Togami, arms wrapped under his armpits. “Someone take this feet! Now!”

"You said-" Mahiru hiccups, and oh, she is crying, isn't she? She's absentmindedly holding onto Byakuya's shoulder, as if that would do anything. "You said... you'd try to survive. We'd help you."

This dumbass, this fucking dumbass—

Taeko pathetically tries to grab under his like. Leg. She’s not really strong enough. “Naegi-san, please—“

He's gritting his teeth, eyes squeezed shut as the pain becomes unbearable-- this is what dying feels like, doesn't it? Except he's not cold, his body feels like it's on fire.

"N-No," He grunts out, blood abstracting his speech. "Just let me-- let me just, I want to die here,"

He can barely move, but he has to do something, doesn't he? Even though his limbs feel like stone, moving hurts, he can barely breathe-- he does as he's asked, blinded with tears, he goes to Taeko's side to grab his legs.

"Byakuya, please--"

Rantaro gritted his teeth and started lifting him. If he’s talking that means he’s still alive.

He's kicking and struggling-- he doesn't want to be carried. 

 "LET ME DOWN," He shouts.

Taeko yelps.

“Koizumi-san, I feel as if we’ll need your help—“

He's using all the strength he can to hold him down-- he hates it, hates hearing his shouting and feeling him struggle like that, it hurts but he...

"PLEASE, l-live for me, please--" His voice wavers into a soft sob, begging and shivering... he can hardly think.

"Just let me--" He lets out a yelp of pain, more blood spilling from his lips as he grits his teeth. He slaps weakly at the hand in his hair, tears and blood staining his face.

Mahiru's brain is racing, as she tries to reconcile their conversation the other day with what's happening right now.

"P-" She starts, and stops. "Put him down. Put him back down. Gently."

The tears are flowing freely now, but she doesn't bother to wipe at them.

"If you- If he keeps struggling in your grip he'll fade faster."

Taeko lowers him, slowly. “Should I— go back to Iruma-san’s room? See if there’s anything there?”

Mahiru nods roughly.

Well. She hasn’t run in a while, but now is probably a good time.

"Don't leave," He orders Taeko weakly.

“Oh Jesus Christ-“ Rantaro groaned and was about to go faster when Mahiru came into frame. He follows along with Taeko. “Y-Yeah...” God, he’s not ready for this. Oh god. Oh fuck.

Taeko lets out a huff, but it’s strained.

“I have half the mind to ignore you, Byakuya-san,”

"I want you here when I--" he grunts in pain, breathing becoming weak as he lies down against the grass.

No, he doesn't get to lie down. Mahiru won't let him. He has a FUCKING SWORD IN HIS MIDDLE!

Taeko glanced back at Rantaro, then back at Byakuya. She..

“Amami-san, you go on ahead. I’d just slow you down anyway.” She’s still kinda pissed at Byakuya, and she refuses to let him die but. Just...just in case.

Mahiru, with touch as light as a feather and as frantic as a bird, tries to position Togami so that the fucking sword in his abdomen doesn't move anymore. As long as they don't take it out, he shouldn't...bleed out, probably. But he can't leave it in there forever.

He's hesitant, before lowering him as well-- but he still stays right at his side, shoulders shaking as he sobbed over him; he feels utterly useless, useless, but he doesn't know what he can do... what he possibly could do, his love is fading so quickly right in front of him and all he can do is--

"Please," it comes out wretched, tearful and miserable. "Byakuya, p-please..." Please what, he doesn't quite know, but all he can do is beg for him to stay with him...

Togami makes an annoyed noise, somehow, when Mahiru pushes him back up to a better position. Fine, then.

"It's fine," He says slowly. "I'm dying th'way I want to..." Togami says, hand moving up to wipe at Naegi's tears-- it only smears blood on his face. Ah...

He rests his own hand over Togami's, tears speeding up-- no, no, this wasn't meant to happen, they were gonna get out together and be happy together, show Togami he can live independently...

"It's not fine, it's n-not..." He sobs louder, leaning forward and nearly curling in on himself. His grip around Togami's hand tightens.

“Amami-san I swear to— Go. Now.”

"Don't,"

"GO!"

Rantaro grits his teeth, refusing to give up. “Im going.” He tosses his coat and Teako and ducking sprints for it.

"'s not going to help," Togami breathes heavily. "N-No--"

"You said you'd stay with us." Actually, that's not what he said, you just assumed.

Mahiru's voice is pathetically small. "You're dying the way you want to, but."

She balls her fists in the fabric of her shirt.

"What about what we want? What if we wanted to get to know you more? What if we wanted to protect you? You ever think of that?" It's selfish, but her voice rises with each question, fresh tears making it almost hard to see.

"You're always- deciding what's best for everyone, you stupid, stupid man." She chokes out a sob. There's no bite in her insult. Just despair.

"Why? We need you."

"I know," Togami speaks up weakly. "I know." There's nothing he can say now.

He just listens to Mahiru, ugly sobbing clashing with Togami's ragged breathing as he slips away... the noise is grating on his ears. Why did this have to happen? He just wants to go back; he wants to go back, if he could have done anything to stop this... but nothing is enough, is it?

He feels as if his heart is twisting in his chest as Mahiru speaks on, saying exactly everything that Naegi wanted to say, but was never strong enough to, never strong enough-- not enough to help Togami, to stop him, to...

"I... need you," he whimpers out wretchedly after Mahiru finishes... he wants to look away, to run away, but he can't do that now. He can't do anything.

"I-I'm sorry," He mumbles, unable to speak clearly anymore, eyelids heavy as he looks at Naegi with glossy eyes, before turning his gaze to Taeko. "F-For, for doin' this, for... 's for the best, I..."

Taeko’s hands hover uselessly, and the words wont unstick from her throat. The most she can do is grip Byakuya’s hand tightly.

“Don’t you dare say things like this— You’re not going to die, you’re not—“

Rantaro’s hair is all over his face and he’s pretty sure he’s lost a shoe on his sprint back to the Elsinore. He trips and fumbles as he reaches closer. “Hey! HEY!”

"Even if it's despite what people want of me..." He says, growing weaker by the second. "Knowin' people... loved me in th' end was... nice..."

Togami begins to flutter his eyes shut, color draining from his face. He doesn't have much time.

A little more. Just a little more. Rantaro screams as he throws the bag over his shoulder and chucks it across to where they are before plummeting and eating dirt.

Mahiru could beg for Togami to stay, could call him an idiot some more, but what's the point?

"What do you want, Byakuya?" She asks quietly. "Anything. Anything and we'll do it."

...

...

There's the response of his ragged breathing growing quieter and quieter, until his eyes open a sliver to reveal foggy blue eyes to the remaining graduates-- the people he knew as his friends.

"Don't die..." He says quietly, lips hardly moving as they stain with his blood. "No more... turnin' on evr'yone. Remember th' humanity others have." He chuckles weakly. "It took m' ages t'refute that..."

"I don't regret to say that... I love you all." ...

His grip on Naegi's hand loosens, head tilting back as he goes limp.

Togami has left them.

Ah.

All he can do at this point... is grit his teeth, lower his head, and scream.

At the top of his lungs, all his sorrow and grief bubbling out with his voice... shaky with tears, an ugly sob, he can't do anything but scream. The noise hurts to hear, he hates hearing himself like this, but he can hardly think-- can hardly move, can't do anything but this.

Not again, not again—

Taeko can’t help it, when she starts to cry again.

To make matters worse, the duo shows up.

Sock is stomping to the scene as Buskin trails behind, the red fellow muttering "He just had to set this up, just had to...!" under his breath.

They're both at a distance away from the body, Sock's eyebrows furrowed in a fashion.

”You!” Rantaro takes off his other shoe and raises it over his head as he gets closer to them.

"Ah ah ah." Sock waggles a finger.

"S-Sock... We can't possibly start a trial with this many witnesses..."

Instead of smacking Sock as he expects, he laughs harder than he’s ever had and waves it in front of him. “You know what’s in here! Give me one fucking good reason I shouldn’t end your fucking game right now! Come on! I wanna hear it!”

"And we won't- unfortunately." Sock strains out, ignoring Rantaro.

"Sir Byakuya and his public suicide... Unexpected, but such a shame it's merely this simple!"

They’re not going to— with the body—

“Can we not bury it here? It was a suicide, not a murder. There’s— there’s no need for an execution.” Taeko’s words sound a bit nasally, but she’s holding back her tears surprisingly well.

Rantaro glares daggers into Sock. Say something stupid. Come on.

"Believe me, I would've executed him if I wanted to!"

"But I'm just tired to do so! It would be redundant, anyways!" Sock sighs out.

"No trial for him, boo to the hoo."

Taeko exhales a bit, the relief palpable. Sock and Buskin are still shitty, and she still hates them, but at least they’re allowing them this.

It hurts, but she’s still thankful that Byakuya decided to do it in front of all of them. The circumstances around his death are clear.

“Boo to the hoo-“ Rantaro points his shoe at the puppet like Togami would have with his sword. “I can fucking end your career right now and give your game a shitty boo to the hoo ending, fucker!”

"Amami-san, not now." Mahiru raises her voice just loudly enough to be heard, not moving from Naegi's side and Togami's...corpse. "Please just come...help us with him. So we can bury him." She's not actually sure how they're gonna do that, but...

"Ah, you're burying him? Less work for I!"

"I'll let you do whatever for the night. Mourn, cry, bury, whatever. If his body is still here, we shall deal."

"Just. Yeah." Sock says in an exasperated tone.

Mahiru makes a mental note of how flustered Sock seems to be by this situation, but lets it go for now.

"Just go." She says to the puppets, not even bothering to look at them.

The both of them leave on your command.

SURVIVING STUDENTS GRADUATES

18

[teen-titans-imagines]

East of Eden pt 4

 Jason Todd & Daughter! Teenager! Reader

—

A/n: Sorry for the wait, y’all! Happy New Years! I have nobody to kiss lmao soiamjustgoingtokissmysupernaturalpillowlmaoiamsolonelyhelpme

—

Part One / Part Two  / Part Three / Part Four [Here] / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven [Final]

—

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Drama, Action, Fluff Rated: Mature Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Swearing, Graphic Depictions of Physical Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Graphic Injuries, Nightmares, PTSD, Just read with caution please

—

Author: Teen-Titans-Imagines

—

-THIRD PERSON POV-

Jason was rubbing his lip anxiously as he walked with Alfred to the Batcave. It was quiet, a comfortable silence that he was familiar with but hadn’t felt in a long time. As they walked through the Batcave’s entrance, Alfred announced with a confident tone.

“Master Bruce, Master Jason has arrived.”

Bruce turned, his blue eyes looking tired, and Jason called as he walked over, crossing his arms. 

“Looks like you could use some sleep, old man.” 

“This old man just figured out a very important lead for you, so watch yourself.” 

Bruce’s tone was playful, despite his venomous words, and Jason quirked an eyebrow up. 

“Yeah. Dick called me at the ass crack of dawn to tell me. Woke up (Y/n) as well. This better be important.” 

Dick walked in, securing his gloves as he came to stand at the large computer screen. 

“Trust me, it is.” 

Jason just frowned and Bruce typed on the keyboard, bringing up a mugshot of a middle-aged looking man. His glaring, brown eyes were dark, his head clean shaven and a flower tattoo sat at the corner of his left eye, making Jason hum slightly. 

“This man was one of the men (Y/n) had detained before she was overpowered. He had gotten away after waking up approximately five minutes later. Police had been unable to locate him, but after further digging, I was able to find his location-”

“-So we had a little talk with him.” 

Dick cut in, grinning as he stood tall and proud, Jason’s eyes widening slightly. 

“Ok, so what did you get from the interrogation?”

Dick explained as Bruce brought up pictures of the man being handed money, and perhaps drugs. 

“He was just a regular thug from the street that got involved with Black Mask after a drug deal gone bad. Black Mask took him, and others, in to use them as pawns for his plan. He even paid them for helping him find and kidnap (Y/n). However, according to him, Black Mask wasn’t alone.” 

Jason became alarmed, uncrossing his arms and swallowing thickly. 

“What do you mean Black Mask wasn’t alone? You’re saying that someone helped him kidnap (Y/n)? Who?”

Bruce cut in, saying gravely. 

“That’s where it gets complicated. According to the man, Black Mask was in alliance with Scarecrow and Poison Ivy. I didn’t know if it was true, but after investigating the warehouse more thoroughly, I found some documents filled with pictures of vials, payment plans, and lots of documents that were recording (Y/n)’s every move.” 

Bruce showed a picture of the vials, the liquid glowing a disgusting and ominous dark violet.

“They were housing some sort of chemical...a more advanced fear toxin called  Nymphaesis. That’s all the man knew.” 

Jason felt his heart stop. If there were more super powered villains involved with this...then you were in complete danger.  What was this Nymphaesis? Were you tortured with that chemical as well? Jason frowned and crossed his arms, his thumb rubbing his lip. 

“If there are more villains involved with this, then (Y/n) is in more danger than we thought. Find Poison Ivy and Scarecrow. I’ll have a chat with them myself.” 

Dick smiled slightly as Jason walked out, grabbing his helmet and practically running down Tim as he passed by. 

“You know, he would make a great Batman one day, Bruce.” 

“Perhaps.” 

Alfred rolled his eyes. 

“Perhaps we should not get so hasty in deciding who shall become the next Batman after Master Bruce’s departure from this world, Master Dick. I’m sure Master Bruce still has many years beneath those feet of his.” 

Dick joked, smirking. 

“Then I guess I shouldn’t pull the rug from beneath him?”

Bruce stood up and ruffled Dick’s hair, smirking at the young vigilante. 

“Good luck trying, Richard. It would do you some good to remember who trained you.”

-JASONS POV-

Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something bad happening right beneath his nose. Ever since he left the apartment, he had felt this...sudden dread and depression weigh down on him with every passing minute. It made him drive his motorcycle faster down the road, his heart pounding within his chest. 

Parking, he jumped off and practically running into the apartment, opening the door and slamming it closed behind him. Sighing, Jason shoved the red helmet off his head and let his head hit the back of the door, taking calming breaths. It’s ok. He was just paranoid. 

“(Y/n)?”

He called. When he heard no response, he became uneasy, drawing his gun from the thigh holster that was tightly snapped into place. Raising it, he did a sweep of the living room and the kitchen, pausing when his eyes trained onto a folded piece of paper. On the paper was a delicate ‘Dad~’ written in bold ink in his daughters handwriting, the ink pen since forgotten and chair still pushed out, waiting to be sat in. 

Jason was still alert, but one hand came down to the paper and opened it, his blue eyes widening with every word that he read. His gun dropped onto the table and Jason fell onto the seat, a hand coming to his mouth as his eyes filled with angry tears. This couldn’t be true. This had to be a lie. You wouldn’t walk out on him like this, even if it was for a couple days. 

You would have told him...even if the people you were with said you couldn’t. Jason shakily pulled out his phone, almost dropping it as an angered hiss escaped between his clenched teeth. 

“Hello?”

“Bruce...Bruce, she’s gone.”

“...I’m on my way.”

-READERS POV-

A gentle shaking woke you from your slumber, your eyes opening slightly to see that you were in a large archway. From your spot, you could see a runway and multiple airplanes and jets, making you bite your lip and look at who had awakened you. Hasan had opened your door and was standing over you slightly, your duffel bag strapped on his shoulder, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Come on, Ms. Todd. We’ve arrived at the airport.” 

You stretched and rubbed the back of your neck before getting up and out of the car, looking around. There were multiple security guards and men dressed in black standing aside, awaiting for you to go with them. Behind them, there was a large private jet, black and advanced. Hasan glanced at his clock, murmuring. 

“It is 6:48 in the morning ...so we should arrive in Sana, Yemen at....approximately 2:48 in the afternoon.” 

Your eyes widened, mouth dropping. 

“I’m sorry, did you just say that we were going to Sana'a, Yemen?!”

“I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?”

Hasan gave a cheeky grin, handing you your bag, and you just watched him walk to one of the men in black, speaking Arabic to him. That man...that man was going to be the death of you. You had never been to a different state, nevertheless a different country! A man asked you. 

“Ma’am, may I take your bag?”

You glanced at him and blushed slightly at his formal tone before shaking your head, handing him your bag. 

“Don’t call me that. Just ‘(Y/n)’, ok? Thank you.” 

He quirked an eyebrow up, grinning slightly before clearing his throat and becoming stoic again, taking your beg onto the jet. You followed Hasan onto the aircraft, your jaw dropping once more. 

“Wow, this is...really nice.” 

“Of course. A top notch aircraft for a top notch woman.” 

You glared at Hasan while he gave you a shit-eating grin. 

“Shahidi, shut up.” 

-WITH THE BATFAM-THIRD POV-

Jason was sobbing into his hands, completely broken and angry as he wallowed in his room alone. Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian were in the kitchen, sitting at the table and inspecting the letter. Dick shrugged. 

“I did a once-over of the apartment. There was no signs of any struggle or any kind of indication that would suggest that there’s foul play here.” 

Tim nodded and added, typing into his computer. 

“There’s no video surveillance of (Y/n) being kidnapped either. Honestly, I think this is the real deal. I think she really did leave to get some more in depth help.” 

Damian was quiet, glaring at the paper as he read it over and over. Bruce was sighing, rubbing his forehead. 

“Jason isn’t going to take no for an answer. Not after the information we told him.” 

Dick suggested. 

“Do you want me to go talk to him? I’m sure that he’ll listen to me.” 

Bruce just stayed quiet, but shrugged his shoulders a little. As Dick stood up and disappeared into Jason’s room, Bruce murmured. 

“I don’t know why she would do this. I thought she was seeing a therapist-”

“-Unless the therapist wasn’t a therapist at all, but instead an attender of this temple she is going to.” 

Damian pointed out. Bruce and Tim paused, looking at each other before looking at Damian. 

“That actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“I knew there was something weird about him, but I didn’t really say anything because I was just happy (Y/n) was trying to reach out to someone.” 

Bruce and Tim stood up to go to Jason, and Damian stayed behind, rereading some of the lines. 

‘A temple that only a few know about...a High Priest...them being able to help her in ways that we can’t...why does it all sound so familiar?’

Damian growled and slammed the letter down before standing up and walking to Jason’s room. Jason was shaking, his head still in his hands, and Dick was rubbing his back. 

“I’m sorry, Jason, but I honestly think that she did this herself. There’s nothing here to suggest she was kidnapped.” 

Jason threw his hands up. 

“W-What if she was mind controlled! M-Maybe Ivy got her somehow with some type of gas or something!”

Bruce shook his head. 

“Tim and I ran every single type of test we could. There’s nothing there, Jason.” 

Jason didn’t want to believe it, but if Bruce was right, then what could he do? Jason run a hand through his hair before sniffling. Damian spoke up. 

“We did figure something out, though.” 

Jason looked up, blue eyes interested. 

“What?”

“That therapist (Y/n) was seeing? He wasn’t a therapist. At least, we think. In her letter, she said she was going to some temple far away that no one knew about to get help. The last person to speak to (Y/n) was that man.” 

Jason’s eyes widened. 

“Oh my god. What if he took her! He would be someone she would think she could trust. It’s so easy!” 

Damian held a hand up, snapping. 

“Shut up, I’m not done, Todd!” 

Jason piped down, glaring slightly at Damian. 

“You said before that the man had a name that sounded Arabic, right?”

“Yeah...I think it was...Hasan?” 

Damian paused before saying, his frown deepening. 

“I think I know where (Y/n) is going.” 

-READERS POV-

You were seated in front of Hasan, a chess board in front of you two. He was rubbing his bearded chin, his blueish green eyes concentrated. 

“Why are we going to Sana'a, Yemen?”

Hasan moved his rook, replying. 

“We have to leave for the Indian Ocean. When we arrive in Sana’a, we will travel to Sayḩūt. From there, we will commute to the Socotra Islands by boat. We will then rest there for the night, and then resume our journey again to the island to the Elder temple. It is approximately 300 miles from the shores of Socotra, but heavily glamoured thanks to the many blessings and runes placed upon the island.” 

You frowned and moved your queen, taking his rook, and Hasan cussed in Arabic, pouting slightly. 

“What do you mean the island is heavily glamoured? You mean that it’s basically invisible to those who can’t see past the glamour?” 

He nodded, smiling slightly. 

“You learn very quickly, Ms. Todd.” 

You huffed and asked. 

“So, when do I get blessed to see past the glamour?” 

“When we arrive to Socotra.” 

The jet shuddered when it experienced turbulence, causing you to slam your hands onto the armrests of your seat and hold onto it for dear life, Hasan grinning widely at you. 

“You know, for someone who is very intimidating, you seem to be scared of the littlest things.” 

“Watch yourself, Hasan. I won’t hesitate to jump over this table.” 

“I don’t doubt you would, Ms. Todd.”

-WITH THE BATFAM-

Damian crossed his arms.

“Mother spoke of a temple while of I was still with the League of Assassins. She claimed it was part of my history and geography lesson, but at the time, I didn’t care nor believe what she told me.” 

Jasons napped. 

“Get on with it, Damian!” 

Damian glared at Jason before snapping. 

“Watch yourself! I want to find her just as much as you do, Todd!” 

There was a pause before Damian continued. 

“Mother spoke of an ancient temple that was built on an island somewhere in the Indian ocean called the Elder Temple of Isaf. It was a sanctuary for the followers of Isaf and Na’ila, who were Meccan water deities among the many other gods and goddesses the people worshiped. However, it became a place for worshiping all the gods and goddesses when Islam came into action. The High Priest of that time placed very strong and ancient blessings and runes on the island, banishing it from any outsiders and it was basically wiped off the maps, never to be seen again. I didn’t really believe Mother when she told me, but she claimed that she had once been there. Now that this place has come up again, and (Y/n) is gone, I don’t think it’s an accident that this story is very similar to (Y/n)’s explanation.”

Bruce asked, frowning significantly. 

“Did she mention how you could get there?”

Damian gave Bruce a scrutinizing look.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? There’s no record of such a place existing. How do you expect to get somewhere that you don’t even know if it truly exists?”

Tim pointed out. 

“You said the Indian Ocean, right? (Y/n) would have had to go by aircraft to the Middle East. If we check Gotham Airlines, maybe we can find her on those security cameras.” 

Bruce nodded and stood up. 

“Dick, Tim, you two are going to check all of the surrounding airports and run facial recognition and analyze the security footage. Damian, you’re going to dig for more information about this temple. Jason, you and I are going to look into this Hasan character.”

They all nodded before immediately getting to work.

-READERS POV-

Hasan had essentially beat you at the chess game, and had decided to speak to someone and work on paperwork. You had decided to go back to the bedroom, your jaw dropping once again at the luxurious room. The bed was themed silver, as was the rest of the interior, with black and gold stripes and patterns lining the comforter. 

Your duffel bag had been set onto the comforter, ready to be rummaged through. Opening it up, you grabbed some shorts and more summer-friendly clothing, sauntering to the bathroom and sitting on the toilet seat cover. A pain in your head made you pause, and you rubbed your forehead, sighing. 

In the back of your mind, you were still ridden with guilt for walking out on your father with no notice but some letter. On the other hand, your bravery and yearn for relief made it easy to get onto the plane. As the pounding in your head got worse, you groaned and wished your father was here. 

‘Now I really do wish I had some of mom’s Sick Kitchen Chicken Soup.’ 

Taking a deep breath, you looked up and froze. 

“There’s only one person in this world that I would go through all the trouble I did for to see, Mhm. Although, who can blame a poor man like me to claim back what was stolen from him?”

-THIRD PERSON POV-

Within the mistiness of the clouds, there was a tense atmosphere within the winds that blew across the mountain side and the walls of the temple. Within, a man sat within a circle in the center of a large room hidden within the mountain itself, idols assembled in a circle, thrones at their feet. His hands were intertwined together, and he was on his knees, praying. 

A shock trembled down the old man’s spine, and his blind eyes opened, whispering to the idols. 

“There is an ancient blackness within her mind...a storm within the storms that brew within her very soul. She is troubled...very, very troubled.”

A greyish white light manifested itself in the second to largest throne, and a voice asked in a deep, female tone.

“What do you intend to do, Ar-Rā'iyu? If our assumptions are correct, there is almost nothing we can do for the child except kill her.” 

“ Manāt! We will not resort to such violence! She is just a child!” 

Another female voice screeched, a beautiful green light shining almost angrily. Another voice, this time male, disagreed.

“ Ba'lat-Mafrash, this evil that brews within her is getting stronger each minute that passes by. If we wait any longer, there is no telling what she will become!” 

“There is no reason for violence, especially when it can be avoided, ‘A’im.” 

The red light pulsed with a shock, the male voice snarling as the light approached the sun-colored light at the other side of the room. 

“Shut your mouth, Al-Mundhir! Your little conquest for justice is absurd, and quite frankly, a lost cause. There is no violence that can be avoided. She is sick! She must be killed before she infect the others!”

A booming voice screamed out, his light overtaking the room. 

“Enough of this childishness! Are we gods, or human children?!”

The light dissipated, and the voice said calmly. 

“Nuhm is watching over her as we speak. She is not lost...at least, not yet. Ar-Rā'iyu, (Y/n) Todd lies within your hands. What happens to her...and what she becomes is your responsibility. If you can’t fix this...the consequences will be dire. The power that lies within that blackening soul of hers will be catastrophic for the human world. Fix. This.”

The man nodded and bowed, replying with a submissive tone in his voice.

“Allah, you have my word. Ms. Todd will be taken care of. Once she arrives to the temple, the followers, Isaf, Na’ila, Nuhm, the others, and I will work through every crevice of her soul to banish and contain this sickness.”

“Good.” 

All of the lights disappeared, an Ar-Rā'iyu whispered to himself, rubbing his forehead as he sat up from his bowed position. 

“What have you gotten yourself into, girl?”

---

PART FIVE

Permanent Tagging List: @amnahs9695, @alohabucky, @vermelian, @stormyfandoms, @loudmouthwally, @prancingdestiel, @frida-marie, @rcbinwcrld, @thatawesomenerdygirl