#gun x mr beast

[gungoo4lifer]

Park Jonggun x mr beast

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 8

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

TW: Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Guns, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dissociation, Trauma, Blood, Cursing

Chapter Summary: The more fierce the action, a more extreme reaction. He had long abandoned his scales but he would gladly become a monster to ward off trespassers that would enter your forest. When dawn arrives, would you see your dragon in the horizon?

Author's Note: This went through so much revisions and I had to talk to my beta reader many times about how certain scenes should go. (I just have ridiculously high standards.) Many parts in this chapter had transformed from what I have in mind, mostly for cohesion but I am quite satisfied because I still managed to retain the canon events I set.

To everyone, thank you for reading. Your comments make me smile and while I do write for myself, I never regret the day I shared this to the world.

Tagging: @phisen @wrimaira

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

8: My Dearest, Enduring

A population of less than 50.

Louis knows the little community of prey hybrids residing here in this corner of the N109 zone basically know each other and everyone, to his surprise, is very cordial with the predator hybrids who come by to shop and buy artisan goods.

Good.

The residents here are good people.

He doesn’t really know there is a community here after becoming the head of this organization composed of lion hybrids and since then, he had made up his mind that protecting the residents here should be a top priority.

A hypocrite, Louis knows he is one having been raised in one of the more fortunate prey hybrids who taught him how to play with the rules the humans had set and it is only because he is rebelling against his father that he realized not all hybrids are as lucky as he is.

Perhaps he is even more of a hypocrite every time he reminds each resident here to be wary of the predator hybrids they welcome in their homes like friends because he had grown to respect the rowdy group of lion hybrids that followed his every command.

Even then, his worries are heard and the older prey hybrids understand his concerns except for the younger ones and one of them is you.

You were so polite.

Polite on telling him off and you weren’t even sarcastic, you are just so blatantly honest.

“Thank you, Mister Louis but Skye likes his food cooked so I am sure the rumor isn’t true.”

It was amusing, hilarious even how you brushed off his warning just like that but even then, Louis had already made up his mind to watch over you and this community no matter how stubborn some of you can be.

“The tailor shop owner is on the line.”

“The old deer?”

“Yeah, he is asking if we can drop by and check on his daughter,” the older lion hybrid holding the phone answered, covering the receiver to keep the conversation between them, his eyes flicking at the clock nearby.

It would be a miracle if your father can catch the last train back and any taxi drivers charge anyone who wants to go at the N109 zone with exorbitant prices.

“Can’t he just ask his son-in-law for that?”

“I don’t think they have any relatives- Wait, you mean Sylus ?”

“Who else? That dragon is coming there almost everyday that the miss and him might as well be married.”

The older lion hybrid laughed at the young deer’s remark but relented, answering your father that Sylus would be the better alternative but his smile turned into a frown as he continued to listen to the other line.

“What’s wrong?”, Louis asked, his brows furrowed and the lion hybrid put down the phone after telling your father they would come check.

“He said Sylus isn’t answering.”

“Must be out there smuggling god knows what.”

“Are you sure? Because he said he called the shop again just now and his daughter didn’t answer.”

The curtains of the open window billowed against the cold breeze, a silence settling inside the office.

“And then I thought that son of a bitch is down bad-”, Louis mumbled, grabbing his coat hanging on the nearby armchair and the older lion hybrid did the same, their footsteps thudding against the hardwood floor.

Did Sylus manage to deceive everyone here? 

No.

No, Louis saw how that man held you before you two went out yesterday. Both of you were the talk of the community, no, the entire N109 zone. The little display of affection where Sylus spun you around like both of you were newly-weds had turned everyone’s heads and people are convinced that you were able to do the impossible.

The unthinkable.

In your hand, Sylus had willingly placed his leash for you to hold and Louis doubts that you even know it.

As Louis took his place in the passenger seat in front, he silently prayed that your father was simply an overprotective parent tonight.

But, when he gazed at his reflection in the side mirror, a quiet thought passed in his head-

-Something even more dangerous is lurking in a place already crawling with beasts and oddly enough, a small voice is telling him it isn’t Sylus.

────────────────────

The little baseball team always loves watching the evening cartoon reruns on the old television your father placed on the receiving area of your old shop.

They were such tall hybrid children for their age and oddly enough, they all managed to huddle together in front of the small screen, their attention towards the little pink dog hybrid and his adoptive human grandmother.

A small gasp, sometimes a burst of laughter, and then they will be quiet again as the show goes on.

It was one hour after your old shop closed when he came by and you found it odd that the people who follow him around are not here with him. He first greeted the children who just murmured a polite ‘Hello’ and ‘Good evening’ but their eyes had always remained guarded before going back to their show.

His attention never always linger longer at anyone else.

It was always at you.

Every little step you take away from him, he tries to close the distance even further and his distorted voice is becoming angrier by the second until his grip around your wrist was too much to handle, your eyes blurry because of the pain.

“I’ll watch over you until you die. Why can’t you understand that?”

Even to this day, you never understood why he was fascinated by you.

The reel of that old and distant memory ended with your cry for help, small, so small followed by your favorite little baseball players shouting in anger and then the tape ended abruptly, a film with no conclusive ending. You have left that tape with everything including the ashes and the scent of fire together with the concrete pillars of your old shop that remained standing.

In the old cinema hidden in the deep recesses of your mind, you have returned as the sole audience of the only film showing and the main actress is no other than-

The defenseless deer hybrid wearing your face with tear stained cheeks.

Why did she (you) scream? To try to warn her (your) dear crow friend to not try to go near the mass of black threads or else it will never fly again but it did not listen.

Why are there tears on her (your) face? Because his hold on her (your) wrist hurts, the gun she (you) hastily tried to hold is now lying on the floor.

Why is she (are you) praying? Because there must be a way out of this hell, for heaven to not punish him anymore if that is what it takes to just to let her (you) go.

“Did you think you are like them now just because you know how to shoot, branches?”

You always play hard to get.

At least, that’s what he thinks. The more you stay away, the more he gets annoyed.

Shy. Skittish. Wary.

You little deer hybrid. 

Common. 

So relatively common and there are so many of you but he just can’t help being attracted to you even when you always keep your damn eyes on your shoes.

He and his group kept you safe so why can’t you stay put? Why did you have to scream like he is the monster here?

He came prepared this time, making sure you are alone. Just outside your shop are other humans armed to the teeth, capable, and one ridiculously strong predator hybrid such as that brute you just kissed goodbye a few hours ago can only handle so much.

How is it you chose Sylus of all people, a hideous beast, over a human?

“Stop crying.”

His command echoed across the old theater together with your cries of trying to run towards the only exit but no matter how hard you push your legs, you stay on the same spot, the distance between you and the exit unchanging and you wonder if it is a crime to say no that the heavens decided to grant a cruel punishment on you, forever trapped in a loop.

“I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

A low warning and the human holding you down froze for a moment, the cold barrel of the gun on the back of his head but the hand holding the weapon trembled just slightly and he smirked as he slowly raised his hands, letting you go.

“I wouldn’t even count that as an option.”

“But I do.”

“What is it with you prey hybrids thinking you are all capable of holding a weapon?”

“I am surprised myself,” Louis replied, watching the man slowly turned around to face him, letting you go in the process and in the corner of his eyes, he can see you slowly walking away, reduced to a shambling fawn and cradling the crow with the broken wing, your only source of warmth and even then, wounded little beings can only offer each other comfort and nothing more.

When they arrived a block away from your shop, Louis was bracing himself for the inevitable, to see one of Sylus’ expensive cars parked right in front with the lights of your shop all out, the crack of bones and blood but they were all welcomed with an unexpected surprise.

The car plates.

Bullet proof vests and rifles.

Humans.

It was luck alone that Louis managed to sneak in through the back door of your shop with the rest of his companions making small talk with the friends the human brought along.

“You should be grateful we are the first one to come over,” Louis added, his eyes trained at the human’s hands, “Sylus does not bargain when it is her on the line.”

“Then he will learn.”

“He is already wanted for several crimes. Do you really think he would give a shit if a new line is added to the list?”

“He will if the crime wasn’t his.”

The male deer hybrid’s brows furrowed, confused and his eyes wandered briefly on where you were standing earlier.

The gun he gifted you on the floor.

The feathers of that crow who uses your antlers as a perch.

The cuts around the human’s eyes, bleeding.

“Do you see it now? I hope his pretty little deer knows what happens when abominations like you lays a finger on someone like me,” the human grinned and it only grew further while he watched the look of realization dawn on the deer hybrid’s face.

If he can’t have you, then no one can. Even fucking Sylus.

“Sylus will negotiate, or he would have to say goodbye to the little miss seamstress over here. Do you understand, brat?”, the human continued, stepping closer until the cold barrel of the gun was pressed against his forehead.

Everyone knows Sylus can pay every high ranking official in the government.

He can pay the police to turn a blind eye on this.

He can pay the judge to rule down this accusation.

He can pay the jury almost composed of all humans to vote for your favor.

But he can never pay the overzealous humans who just need one reason to burn down your homes, your businesses, to throw rocks at your windows-

To take every part that makes you a hybrid.

They would come here. Oh they would, and you will be the first one whose head will be in the silver platter.

But all of that will only be possible if the human manages to leave the N109 zone alive.

The paper the human slipped on his breast pocket is heavy, heavier than the gun he kept pointing at where the human was standing even when he already left, the chimes of your doors announcing his departure.

────────────────────

Luke and Kieran always set a portion of their allowance for candy and anything sweet much to Sylus’ disapproval.

Not that they have an addiction, it was mostly because the scent brings a sense of comfort, of a childhood lost then slowly regained, and they recently found out that the treats always taste sweeter when shared.

One of the benefits of having your noses tinkered by humans is that you don’t have to pull out your phone anymore to check where the nearest bakery or candy shop is.

They just have to take a deep breath, shift through the many scents that permeate where they are standing and follow the distinct smell of freshly baked pastries or caramelized sugar. 

A yellow brick road and the two wolf cubs weave past the crowd of hybrids and humans who cast them odd looks, mistaking their excitement for manic obsession for something else.

Their favorite sheep hybrid once told them predator hybrids off their rockers wear the same expression when they caught the scent of a terrified prey hybrid’s papercut.

Those hybrids, the worst of the worst, are locked up far, far away from humans and hybrids always say the same thing.

They even taste better when they are scared.

Luke always played it off but it is a thought that lingers in Kieran’s mind, the memory of that stained handkerchief lives almost rent free and comes back during the early mornings while waiting for sleep.

“Let me in.”

It wasn’t a request, a command coming out of the boss’ mouth when the oldest lion hybrid stood between him and the door of your shop.

Kieran knows everyone can smell it. 

Every predator hybrid outside your shop practically covered their noses at this point and he and his brother not only covered theirs but their mouths too because-

-They were drooling.

His brother holds onto the railings of your shop and if they weren’t in the company of other people and Sylus, he is sure Luke is going to vomit out his dinner.

“Do I need to repeat myself or do I have to move you out of my way?”

“You, of all people, should know what happens if a predator hybrid like yourself comes near a terrified hybrid such as her.”

“I am well-aware,” Sylus answered, his resolve firm and his eyes trained directly at the lion hybrid, “Now step aside and do not take my words as suggestions.”

There was a pause, the old hybrid blocking his way to you scrutinizing him for any telltale signs of a predator ready to hunt and even with the scent of fear settling in the cold night air, inviting anyone with sharp teeth to this forbidden supper, and he noticed one thing.

Sylus’ pupils were not even dilated like the rest right now.

A dragon hybrid’s senses are far more superior than a lion but here is Sylus, not even slightly bothered and it is only because of his age that he is able to pick up a subtle hint of worry on the dragon hybrid’s eyes.

The older lion hybrid took his word this time and opened the door for him which granted him a nod of approval from Sylus.

“Luke, Kieran.”

“Yes, boss?”

“Open the windows. That human stink is everywhere.”

The twins looked at each and then pulled the neck scarves you have sewn for them over their noses before wearing their masks back, following their boss inside.

The human is lucky he arrived a minute later because Sylus would not hesitate to show how serious he is when it comes to your well-being.

It was an affront, a clear disrespect to his precious deer and even until now, that human stink is trying to blend with the scent of cotton and wildflowers. 

No, blend is a kinder term.

It is trying to force itself onto it.

It all concentrated at your front desk and he stood there, his mind reconstructing what took place as he bent down to pick up the gun he assumed you dropped, his eyes lingering on the droplets of blood.

It isn’t yours.

It’s from that insolent human.

“That crow of yours tried to pick out his eyes.”

It was a quiet voice but it resounded through the entire room and Sylus turned around to see that male deer hybrid standing next to the stairs leading to the second floor of your house.

“And did it manage to blind him?”

Sylus initially thought this upstart’s words are empty, flowery phrases to earn the trust of the other prey hybrids but he had proved him wrong.

“If your bird’s wing weren’t broken, the human would be carrying his own eyes on his way out.”

Louis watched Sylus took measured strides to approach him but this time, the subtle animosity between them from before is set aside in favor of you. 

The stairs ahead of them looms, the path that used to be warm and inviting when Sylus made his way of your little game of hide and seek earlier is now an entrance to a dark forest even the sunlight refuses to penetrate, your home shielding you from the prying eyes and if it can, it will keep you forever, away from the hunters and their dogs.

“The human had already placed a price for his silence,” Louis began, pulling out the folded paper on his breast pocket and passing it to Sylus, “He is open to negotiate but we both know he wants full compliance.”

“I do not concede against the demands of a trespasser especially right now.”

“That trespasser may not see eye to eye with his fellow humans but they will hear him out if he points his finger at her.”

“What’s your proposal? Give everything he wants free of charge, pat him on the back and let him be on his way?”

“No, I am just passing his words to you,” Louis answered, then glanced at Sylus who briefly scanned the paper he had handed before passing it to one of the twins, “If you want my opinion-” 

There was a pause.

“-I would say stories don’t hold much weight if there is no one to tell it.”

It would be an unfair trial if you stand against the court of law mostly run by humans.

How many friends did the human bring along? Too many based on their scent that still lingered. Too many people that would bend the truth until it is unrecognizable, reversing the roles of the actual victim and the criminal.

Even then, they don’t need to do that. People had already passed judgment without hearing you out.

It would be your words against an insolent human.

Your silence would be taken as acceptance for your crimes, your cries would be treated as crocodile tears.

“The abandoned warehouse will meet with an unfortunate accident later tonight,” Sylus answered, slowly making his way up to you and then he turned to look down at Louis, “Those who are inside were not able to call for help in time.”

Only humans negotiate. Monsters like him don’t.

A silent agreement passed between them, a plan, and Louis watched Sylus skipped the fifth step of your stairs.

Sylus would gladly wield the needle on your behalf, to sew together a tapestry of lies so carefully knitted that he will use it to cover you, to shield you from those who would take you from here, from your new home.

────────────────────

“You’ll always be alone.”

It was before the sun broke from the horizon when an older dragon spoke to Sylus before, watching their reflections against the gentle flow of the stream.

Sylus had snapped both of his horns, his tail was short back then, easy to hide behind the thick coat and he practiced his laughs and smiles enough for his lips not to reveal the unusually sharp canines.

All those efforts, just so he can play with those human and prey hybrid children he always sees beyond the treeline where their group is staying-

No, hiding.

He was angry at the older dragon back then. 

What’s wrong with wanting friends? He wanted the same thing those humans and lucky hybrids have. 

His room always became a theater during the evening, the memories are old films that persist despite the dust that settled, and he is the lone audience.

That memory always stood out before.

You’ll always be alone.

The older dragon wasn’t mocking him.

The older dragon wasn’t even talking to him.

The older dragon was talking to his own reflection.

What did his kind do to merit such treatment? Must there always be a price for everything he cherished with his heart? Why would his nightmares refuse to stay in the realm of the unconscious?

“Sweetie?”

His voice was soft through the wooden door of your room, his hand on the handle. The sweet scent of cotton and wildflowers was almost comforting if not for the undercurrent of terror, fear, and most of all-

-Sadness.

Your answer is only a quiet sob, so soft as if making sure no one would hear even the tears that touch the hardwood floor of your room.

Sylus was hesitant at first but he slowly turned the handle of your door and through the small gap, the trail of Mephisto’s feathers led inside your cabinet.

“I am sorry I am only good at sewing.”

Mephisto’s beeps were distorted, even with its damaged voice box, Sylus knows it is still trying to comfort you, telling you it suffered worse.

You have always found Daisy an odd little crow. Too smart, too observant and its exposed wirings finally revealed why but it is still your friend, badly hurt and your needle and thread won’t be able to fix it.

Your crow friend rested its head on your chest, cawing softly and it is only when your blurry eyes landed on the silhouette standing just outside the cabinet both you and Daisy were inside that you trembled violently.

“Daisy didn’t mean to,” you pleaded, “Daisy’s a good bird-”

No, begged.

You begged through the wooden panels of your cabinet thinking he is the human who welcomed himself in your own home.

Is Sylus angry?

No, there is a better word to describe the wrath that is simmering under the surface of his collected self, close to breaking loose and it was simply because he doesn’t want to terrify you with acts of aggression reserved only for those who are deserving that he held himself together.

“I know, sweetie.”

There was a pause, your sobs coming to a sudden halt and weakly, you called out his name, the sound so fragile but he would always recognize your voice even among the crowd.

It was enough of a reason for him to slowly open the door of your cabinet, crouching down and bracing himself for the inevitable heartbreak, suffering. Suddenly he is the most powerless man alive, the only comfort he can provide is to hold you close and even then, it will never be enough to lighten each drop of your tears, each single tear heavier than the weight of this wide and uncaring world.

Suffering is never a foreign concept in his life, bullets wounds and cuts were painful more so are insults, and when he thought something finally beautiful had taken root in his life, the storm looms on the horizon, threatening to pull it from the soil.

“Skye,” you repeated, your face buried against his chest until you slowly looked up to him.

“Daisy’s-”, you stuttered and you slowly revealed to him his companion that is worse for wear, “Daisy’s broken, Skye. I don’t know how-”

“I’ll put our friend back together, little doe.”

“I tried to warn Daisy, Skye, I tried to do what you taught me-”

“You were the bravest girl, sweetheart. The bravest I have ever known.”

“I am not-”, you shook your head sadly, looking down at his fingers grazing at the exposed wirings of your beloved crow and to your wrist still red, “Brave girls are strong. Brave girls don’t let other men touch them like that-”

You didn’t even land a scratch on that human. 

“His hands were-” you continued, your next words incomprehensible as you clutched his shirt, “I didn’t like it but he said I was lying.”

Sylus didn’t say anything but he understood each word as he listened to you pour out all of your grievances, all the heartache and he rubbed one of his horns against one of your antlers, a gesture you found soothing as he waited for your heart to slowly return to its steady rhythm, the scent of fear slowly dissipating. 

He wanted to kiss your tears away yet he knew he had lost that right when he came here a minute later.

But he will earn it back.

Each drop of tear he tallied, each apology that isn’t supposed to come from you he counted, and in the darkness of your room only lit by the distant moon, this little corner of paradise mourns with you. 

It was when you quieted down that he carefully gathered you in his arms and every step he made while he made his way back to his car parked at the entrance of the shop together with the twins, his resolve only grew stronger.

Sylus eats his enemies alive.

Sylus doesn’t leave any survivors.

Sylus is a man that takes without remorse.

Each rumors echo in his mind and oh, they are baseless claims, false accusations he did not bother to deny. Insignificant but it served his reputation well.

It doesn’t matter, he would normally tell himself.

Until now.

Tonight, he wouldn’t be the man of many rumors.

Tonight, he would make those whispers grow into terrified screams.

Tonight, he would live up to each and every one of them.

The dawn will break tomorrow and Sylus will make sure only ashes would remain by then and it would end with his triumph.

Very soon, sorrows will plague you no more.

────────────────────

“We’re alone because we look hideous.”

Sylus is not the most well-mannered boy when he was young and he will never forget how the frown of the older dragon reflected in the surface of the running stream at his answer.

Pointed horns. Sharp canines. Tail.

All they are missing are hooves for feet to complete the look of a demon he sees in pictures of old fairytale books. 

No matter how many stories the older dragon hybrids told over the small campfire of the days where they used to soar the sky without fearing of being shot down, those who lost the feud had already lost their right to say their side of the story.

The only benefit of being given the role of villain by default is you have no one to please but yourself.

He knows every choice he makes will culminate to a bad ending anyways, a sad note. 

The last dragon, alone on top of his treasures, will draw his last breath and then finally, maybe he will understand why that older dragon is looking at the reflection of the sky in the stream.

It has been a self-fulfilling prophecy, one that he prayed fervently for it to change during the long nights and in the crossroads of his long journey, he had finally received a response and the answer is-

You leaned against him, holding on to the sleeve of the coat hanging on his shoulders, your gaze at his hands deftly repairing your crow friend in his lap.

The abandoned warehouse a few meters ahead from where the car is parked looms, lit by a few sodium lights with rotten shipping containers piled up on each other. The lightbulb of the small guardhouse flickered accompanied with the radio announcer’s voice, the night shift guard leaving in a haste after Sylus gestured him to leave through the open window of the car earlier.

“Sweetie, you and the twins will have to go somewhere for me.”

“Why can’t you come with us then?”

“I am going to have a talk with that human, miss seamstress, and I want you to be far away from here as soon as possible when I do.”

“That man?”

“Yes, that man,” Sylus answered and he watched Mephisto stand up, stretching its wings and flying out the window for a test flight. It was a quick fix but Sylus knows he had to a more extensive repair after this.

“Can I go with you?”

It was a silent question, and your ears drooped when he didn’t say anything, silently assessing your peculiar request.

“Sweetheart, I am afraid I won’t be able to indulge you on your request this time,” he answered, shaking his head and he removed the coat hanging from his shoulders, draping it over your petite frame.

“Just for tonight, little doe. Count this as me owing you a favor.”

“I don’t want you to owe me anything.”

“Then consider this as my duty as your protector. Something that I must do alone,” he replied, watching you lean against his hand when he traced the shape of your ear drooping. “Your dragon will fly back to you before the sun rises.”

Did those dragons in the paintings you saw with him also made the same promises to the people they love? Is that why they were called liars? That the word did not come from a place of disgust but anguish of a vow that met an abrupt end?

In this crossroad, is there why you have to say your goodbyes?

What can you do that this story will not end with a long, long, sigh? You can barely even use a firearm and if anything, you’re only good at sewing and cleaning.

Sylus smiled gently when he noticed your furrowed eyebrows, smoothing them out with his fingers and your eyes drifted on his sharp canines.

“My protector is too kind,” you finally answered and then you reached out to fix the good luck ribbon around his horn, “If he doesn’t mind, can I ask for another request?”

“Then what is it that my bravest little doe wants?”

His breath hitched when you undo the first two buttons of your blouse, pulling the cloth just enough to expose your skin, his eyes tracing the slope of your neck.

A vial of prey hybrid’s blood can sell for so much in the black market. An option you almost considered when you lost your shop in the fire back at Bloomshore District.

Every predator hybrid has one, at least that’s what the rumors said. 

A small indulgence but mostly because it enhances their physical abilities, and even when you believe he doesn’t need one, this is the only solution you know that would greatly benefit him especially when ahead of him are humans you are sure would harm him just like how they culled his kind.

Just like how they hurt you.

“Don’t let a single drop go to waste, alright?”

“Are you sure about what you are offering-”

You silenced him with a gentle press of your fingers against his lips, a gentle smile on your face.

There is no room for doubt, that he is sure, and you are not going to take a no for an answer this time when you pull him closer to you, tilting your head up for him.

Of course, Sylus had always dreamt of sinking his teeth on your neck but certainly not hard enough that his sharp fangs would break the skin and certainly not in this situation.

Yet, you are always one who is clear with your wishes.

“I want to be with you.”

“Then be with me.”

Breathe. He inhaled sharply before holding you closer and the scent of cotton and wildflowers almost clouded his senses, his tongue darting out to lick the supple skin while looking for a suitable spot to nip.

(You wanted to bolt but you won’t allow your deer side to take precedence.)

Bite. His canines sank on your skin and his heart raced in a rapid staccato, a dizzying concerto as he groaned in satisfaction against your trembling body, your hands holding his shirt tightly and a quiet sob escaped your lips.

(He wanted to take a piece of your flesh but he won’t allow his dragon side to overcome him.)

Taste. He had always considered the prey hybrid black market barbaric but every predator hybrid who tried the blood of a prey hybrid says it tastes like vintage wine, the finest among the collection but yours is different, completely unique.

(An exchange, a mutual understanding, and blood of the sacred deer is the offering of this long-awaited union.)

If pure love has a flavor then it would be-

White rabbit milk candy.

You will be the first and last, the only hybrid he would partake in, and even then, the gods must be laughing at the sheer absurdity of a carnivore not pouncing on a prey’s throat but Sylus is going to make sure he will return to your side.

Not all meetings have beautiful endings but your story and his has always been one of a kind.

His tongue swiped over the bite mark and then he pulled away, making sure to button your blouse for you and even with his head slightly bowed down, you can see his pupils dilated and his attempts on making his breath steady.

“You’re a good dragon,” you said quietly and he smiled when you kissed his cheek.

“Good dragons don’t burn down cities for their sweethearts, darling deer,” he answered and he pushed the gun he picked up from your shop earlier to your hands.

Just a safety precaution as you and twins make your way to the safehouse he directed them to bring you to and he let out a quiet sigh when he heard the twins tap through the tinted windows of the car.

“It’s time for me to leave, Miss Deer.”

You reach out to fix the collar of his shirt, adjusting the silver accessory to stay in its proper place.

“Take care, Mister Dragon.”

The ribbon you have tied on his horn swayed against the night breeze after he stepped out of the car, the door closing behind him and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick the remaining blood on the corner of his lips.

With your blood running in his veins, the world will be yours and more.

────────────────────

“Did anyone tell you that you are too overconfident for someone who is the last of his kind?”

Sylus approached the human sitting at the center of the warehouse, not slightly bothered by his insult and his tail swishing lazily while his eyes roamed around his surroundings, mentally counting each human equipped with an assortment of firearms.

Perhaps negotiation is a more recent term to describe a trap.

As always, the two wolf cubs did not disappoint, the numbers they provided were always on the mark.

A small army.

“I do not see the need to bring anyone with me tonight.”

He answered, taking a seat across the human and then crossing his legs. His eyes narrowed slightly when he caught the remnants of your scent that clung to the human’s clothes.

The human studied him before speaking, taking note that the coat that always hangs on Sylus’ shoulders is missing. His hair is slightly disheveled and there is a little detail that made his smirk grow back.

Sylus came here unarmed.

“In a rush, Sylus? Did my gift catch you off-guard?”

“Gift? Is that what you call packages such as those these days?”

“I prefer to call it a reminder. Your precious seamstress wouldn’t be hiding in this dump you call your empire with her father if she didn’t play hard-to-get.”

“Or if you learned to take no at its face value,” Sylus answered, watching the human’s face soured and his eyes flickered at the human tapping his finger on the armchair.

The more he looks at this beast, the more he detests Sylus further.

He was supposed to be in the advantage here. Didn’t Sylus knows he holds your fate in his hands? How is it then that he walked here as if this is just one of his business meetings?

“I came here all the way as you requested,” Sylus continued, his voice betraying nothing, “So tell me your price yourself.”

Greed. This human stink of greed and desire out of everyone inside this room and it only grew when he asked his question.

“Oh, I am very easy to please,” the human grinned, and his finger tapped faster on the armchair, “A monthly deposit of a ten million in local currency, a monthly shipment of firearms and ammunition, and-”

The human let his words hang in the air and Sylus had to resist the urge of rolling his eyes, his tail twitching in annoyance.

This one has a flare of dramatics, doesn't he? It is almost hilarious as if he is watching one of those stage comedies held by those students at one of the universities he is a sponsor to.

“-Her antlers.”

And people call him a monster.

“Is that all of your demands?”

The human nodded, practically drooling just at the thought of those majestic branches that grow from your head that you shed every winter. You and your father kept them hidden at the back of your old shop, a tradition the deer hybrids uphold, and before they started the fire, he made sure to secure yours first.

Oh, they were just so pretty and they still smell like you if he puts his nose close enough even after all these years.

Sylus didn’t answer, smiling coldly and he scanned his surroundings for one last time, deciding he had heard enough.

This sick bastard.

Then, Sylus laughed.

He laughed carelessly, even when the human in front of him and his men were taken back and he continued to laugh until his voice filled the wide expanse of the warehouse

“You trespassed my empire even if I sent you and your people on your way last time and now you are demanding a share of my fortune and my firearms,” Sylus said, his laughter slowly coming into a halt, “And you thought I would willingly give my sweetheart’s antlers she loves so much to you? To you of all people?”

He slowly rose from his seat and all guns were immediately pointed towards him, his tail flicking in anticipation.

“Stay where you are-”

“You are not in the position of giving me orders.”

“You’re outnumbered, you’re unarmed-”

“You should have listened more to those little fairy tales you humans made yourselves.”

There was a roar, enough to shake the earth, and among the small army of mercenaries and loyal bodyguards that the human had brought with him, his face was the palest as their eyes slowly looked up from where Sylus is standing to what is now standing in his place.

Wings so wide, it will blacken the sun- An omen.

Claws so sharp, it can tear through the thickest metals- A catastrophe.

Maw so large, everything that will go inside of it will disappear- An apocalypse.

The pain did not register in the human’s head when the dragon bit almost half of his arm off his body and it was only through the adrenaline that the human managed to roll to the floor in time because the beast was aiming for his head next.

“Fuck!”, the human screamed in pain and pointed at the dark abomination before them, “Shoot him! Aim for his eyes.”

Sylus had long abandoned this form, even back then as a child. The few remaining older dragons who raised him had always looked up, their hands reaching for the heavens once again but never did.

Times have changed. When your kind is culled, you would do anything to survive.

Horns, tail, claws, teeth, wings, scales.

They have no place in this modern world.

These features were traded for firearms and his bare fists and they just became an accessory, a reminder to anyone his kind is still here but barely.

For you, he will wear this atrocious form.

His roars were earthquakes, bullets barely penetrating his scales and the closest wound they could ever inflict on him is when they managed to shoot one of his horns, shattering it.

When did the animosity between the humans and dragon hybrids started?

The embers of this feud still remained, flickering and even when Sylus had tried to search for answers, he never discovered what sin so unforgivable his kind did that everything in this world had conspired for his happiness to be fleeting and every word shouts and screams of horror made him greedy for more, the fire around him growing larger.

Here he is, the product of all desires and hate the dragons had harbored for all years of being hunted and your tears is what broke his self-imposed curse of hiding this form.

No nice and friendly dragon would do this.

He is a wicked dragon, corrupt by all means, but he is yours. 

Your blood coursing through his veins is his fuel together with every memory of you and even if the blood from the wound of his shattered horn is making his vision blurry, he refuses to stop even if he is tasting iron from the limbs and heads he had torn off.

“We are losing people here!”

“Throw more grenades at him!”

“Fuck, we are going to die here!”

The distant glow of the roaring flare reached the N109 zone and even the outskirts of every district nearby together with the smell of burnt meat and the shaking of the earth.

Let this be a final warning to anyone who would dare trespass in your home.

Sylus does not bargain when it comes to you.

────────────────────

You were a crybaby back then.

Your antlers were shorter before and the thin, warm glow of the light downstairs was  a yellow thread, your guide towards your father who used to stay up all night making clothes.

Unable to sleep, you were his little assistant back then, and he smiled when he saw your ears poking just above the table you could barely reach.

Your first task was to put a thread through the eye of the needle. It was difficult and you pouted when you kept failing several times.

“Now, twig, if you cry too much, you won’t be able to see the eye of the needle now.”

It was only after several tries after blinking out the tears of frustration that you were able to finally manage to get it right and you handed the needle to him that you realize that if there is a thread connecting you and your father, it would be a warm color and ever since then, you always try to imagine what color is the thread that connects you to another person.

Yellow. The color connecting between you and your father, the same color as the tulips he always brings to you for your birthday.

Pink. That is the color you see for Luke and Kieran. The same color as the strawberry macarons they always bring to you and the three of you share while they let you examine the latest plushies they made.

Green. You even put a color for Daisy’s and while it brought you various colorful gems and flowers, you will never forget the time it brought you a four-leaf clover.

Then, finally-

You gazed through the tinted windows of the car, watching Skye talk with the twins and in a few moments, the distance between you and him will grow as he makes his way inside the warehouse.

Red. The same color as his eyes, the first bouquet of roses Mr. Sylus sent over, and the red wildflowers painted in the fields of your music box.

The red thread you are afraid will be snipped off because you aren’t good enough to fight.

Why did you want to go with Skye when the sheer presence of that human alone is enough for you to cower in a corner?

Because you want another chance and this time, you will not be the deer caught in the headlights.

No, you have to come close.

The closest you can to that human.

And when you do, you will cut the black thread that ties you to him.

Your footsteps barely make a sound at the smooth pavement, your hand sweeping at the cold metal of the shipping containers while you make your way closer to the warehouse. Every now and then, an occasional light will flicker in this labyrinth of towering metal.

From a distance, you can hear the twins’ calling out your name, their tone becoming more worried and you shiver against the cold breeze, pulling the coat hanging on your shoulders tight against you.

It was almost similar to your dragon’s warm embrace.

Even when he isn’t here, the scent that clung on his coat seemed to say otherwise and a sense of security almost washed over you until you were reminded of your farewells earlier.

If you were born as a predator hybrid, would you be fighting alongside him right now?

If you were born a fighter, would your old shop still be standing today?

If you pulled the trigger just on time, would your tears stop spilling?

Your knees buckled down and you leaned against the shipping container, the gun in your hand is cold and heavy yet you wrap your fingers around the handle firmly, the muzzle touching your forehead.

Holding the gun like this is like praying.

Would a part of you that you let Skye take be enough? You prayed it would be but prayers will always be just dandelion seeds carried by the wind, wisps of fragile dreams.

A familiar weight pushed on your shoulder and you smiled, putting down the gun and glancing at your crow friend. The shadows are enough to cover the exposed metal and wiring on its wing and it gives you a soft beep.

We should leave.

It tried to pull the small braid on the side of your face gently and when it didn’t work, it went for your skirt this time, any parts of your clothes, gesturing you to go back from where you came but you only shook your head.

“I don’t want to run anymore, Daisy.”

Not running.

Mephisto’s caws are lost to you, trying to reason with you but your ears unable to understand its words and it is growing frustrated at every tug but you refuse to move, your eyes trained at the boarded up windows of the warehouse further up ahead. It is awfully quiet, the only sound you heard was the warehouse door closing a few minutes ago.

Seeing that it is taking so much to convince you, Mephisto gives you one last look before flying to where the twins are, a few shipping containers behind, both jumping from one container to another, looking for you from above.

“I can’t smell her.”

Luke complained and Kieran nodded, their eyes taking in the dark surroundings searching for your familiar form. One heart beating too fast was already nerve wracking but being able to sense his twin’s as well? Kieran doesn’t know how they are both alive with how much they are worried right now.

Hell froze over when they opened the car only to find you were not there after watching the boss go to the warehouse and they had suspicion you most likely ran off to follow the boss but the question is-

Why?

Is it innate for every prey hybrid to flee when they are backed against the corner? To blindly run until you believe you are no longer in danger?

“What, bird?”, Kieran asked, watching Mephisto perched on his shoulder and it let out a beep.

It found you.

There you are, a few meters ahead of them, the boss’ coat hanging on your shoulders and they finally understood why they can’t pick up your scent.

The boss’ scent interlaced with yours, a perfect harmony and a cover. Any predator hybrid who would want to look for you will be thrown off your tracks.

Even if the boss is not by your side, he took all the measures he could to protect you.

They both landed in front of you, their tails wagging slightly when you looked up to smile at them.

“Miss, you shouldn’t be running away like that.”

“Yeah, not a good time for pranking, you know?”

“I am sorry,” you answered, and your gaze moved to one of the doors of the warehouse. The only entrance and exit because the rest was also boarded up. “I just want to-”

What do you want to do?

See your dragon step out of the warehouse without any scratch?

Sever the thread connecting you and the human who had given himself the title of hero of this story?

End this nightmare?

“Hey, it’s okay, miss,” Kieran started, sensing you are about to cry again, reaching out to embrace you and his brother did the same, their tails wagging, “Didn’t we tell you? You already have us and the boss looking after you.”

There was a caw.

“And the bird too,” Luke added, looking up to see Mephisto perch on your antlers, “It says it cares for you so much.”

Even if you lost everything in the fire of long ago, life still continued its symphony and something beautiful has taken root in the ashes of despair, something you want to see grow until it covers the landscape.

“Can’t we wait for him?”

“The boss? No, we really need to leave, miss.”

“It’s cold, you know, he doesn’t want you to get sick especially after you have been through,” Luke added to Kieran’s statement but you shook your head and the two looked at each other.

The boss had specifically asked them to bring you far from here and that they will even when you are oddly adamant on staying on this place they are sure the boss would raze to the ground.

Kieran was about to carry you when a roar cut through the silent night, enough for the shipping containers to shake.

“What was that?”, you asked, alarmed.

“Shit, we need to move her away here,” Luke muttered, shielding you together with his brother as the surroundings continue to shake and you can hear gunfire and roars from inside the warehouse.

Roars so furious they broke all the windows of the warehouse.

Roars so loud they herald the inferno that followed after.

Roars so violent they overpowered the screams inside.

“Don’t look.”

Luke covered your eyes with his hand and Kieran covered your ears but even their attempts to shield and comfort you is not enough, your eyes widening through the gap and your ears twitching against their hold.

The roaring flare intensifies, it eats anything on its path of rampage and it will only stop once dawn arrives, once black snow falls.

“He’s still in there-”

“Boss’ fine,” Kieran replied quietly, his gaze at the flames that continue to pick up. “But the humans? Not really.”

Beneath the frenzied roars was a thin layer of anguish and despair. Whoever is making them, they are in pain.

“The boss,” Luke added slowly, “He’s still just like you and me.”

He has been called a monster many times but his true heartbreak would be if the word comes from your mouth.

“I want to wait a little longer,” you murmured softly and they slowly let go of you, listening, “He must be tired. He might take a while if he has to fly back to us.”

Underneath their masks, a sigh of relief and a smile.

You really have spent too much time with them that the fearsome faces of predator hybrids don’t bother you so much.

Kieran was about to answer when his ears perked up, his nose picking up a distinct scent over the smell of burnt meat and ash.

That human stink.

It is the same human who welcomed himself inside your home.

Their gazes immediately move to the human who staggered outside the warehouse, the flames trying to reach him but barely.

“He won’t be alive for much longer,” Kieran commented, watching the trail of blood behind the human who is trying to stop his wound.

“He left his people inside? That’s quite pathetic, don’t you think?”, Luke added and he had to stifle a chuckle when he noticed Mephisto puffing up while perched on your antlers, as if wanting to square up with the human again.

The twins kept hurling insults upon insults, observing the human in amusement who is trying to shout for help in an empty field, trying to open the nearby cars he and his men most likely brought to get here.

There is no hope for him.

You should stay put.

Yet, you are afraid that if you move your eyes away from him, he will arrive at your doorstep tomorrow morning, alive and well.

Ambush is a certain dance.

Rule number one.

Conceal.

Luke and Kieran thrived on the art of surprising their opponents but that only works if you blend yourself against the shadows.

“I want to make sure he doesn’t visit me again.”

They were taken aback when you told them your request but your conviction said otherwise and here begins your first lesson and likely the last.

You weave through the winding shipping containers, your eyes trained at that mess of black thread walking aimlessly, yelling at anyone to come to his aid. Your steps were almost quiet, the sounds you made muffled by the dark and heavy coat hanging on your shoulders.

Rule number two.

Know your enemy.

A predator can be anyone, a loose term for people who had an intent to kill but what do you call yourself now if you are now the hunter and the man who had pursued you through the winding path of your forest is now the hunted?

His dominant hand is missing, his other hand trembling as he tries to hold the gun while he makes his way to the telephone nearby, lit by a lone fluorescent light.

Rule number three.

Exploit your advantage.

“Oh, need a hand?”, Kieran asked and the human recoiled in fear, dropping the phone and immediately pulling out the gun he hastily tucked on his back.

“Y-you-”,

“Me?”, Luke and Kieran both answered and the human trembled, stepping back to put more distance between the twins who were leaning lazily at both sides of the telephone booth, the dial tone missing, tilting their heads in amusement.

He thought he had planned everything out, that Sylus would cower knowing the weight of a human’s words is heavier than the rest of the hybrids combined but they were right, that dragon hybrid is not afraid to commit atrocities.

A faint rustle and he almost blacked out when he saw a silhouette standing just outside the light of the lamp post.

That coat.

Two horns protruding from the head.

And that damn fucking bird-

He was aiming for the head but his hold was lousy and the bullet hit the other horn, shattering it immediately and instead of a deep groan of pain, he heard something else.

A soft whimper.

“What the hell-”, the human muttered and you stepped inside the light, blood pouring to the side of your face and this time, you aren’t looking down on your shoes.

Your eyes are gazing back at him.

“You really do think you are like the rest of them, huh?!”, he shouted, and he was about to take another shot when the crow flew too fast, knocking the gun out of his hand.

“I am like the rest of them,” you answered quietly and you raised the gun, aiming at him.

Breathe for me.

Your dragon’s words were louder than ever, and the weight of his coat almost close to having his presence nearby and you blinked your tears away, never removing your eyes at the mess of black threads that threatened to engulf you.

May this bullet forgive him for what your heart cannot.

God, please.

A merciless shooting star, speeding fast, and for once, the heaven had finally turned an eye and ear to your prayers, the surface of the tangled black threads erupted like the waves of a dark and deep lake.

The black thread connecting you and him had been finally severed.

────────────────────

Opening a door for Sylus meant bracing himself for impact.

Opening a door meant surprises, most of them bad ones and he was fortunate to be gifted a set of senses that can detect danger ahead.

Not all business meetings are actual talks, most are disguised as attempts to take his life and the merchandise he had brought alongside with him.

It is an irrational fear but in his line of work, it doesn’t hurt to be too vigilant.

Sylus only ceased his rampage when the fire had slowly died down, the sun slowly breaking out from the horizon and he knew he had to return soon.

Return to you.

Hearing your gentle voice through the other side of the door made him too eager to turn the handle and listen to your warm greetings.

“Welcome back, Skye.”

“Good afternoon, Skye. Have you eaten yet?”

“Hello, Skye. Slow day?”

He had always looked forward to hearing those phrases with his real name and there is a certain sentence he has yet to hear but has been praying for that day to come soon. 

In this hideous form where everyone would certainly flee when they see him open the door, he was met with an unexpected surprise.

Through the gap of the warehouse doors barely held together by its hinges was no other than-

You.

Disagreement is not a foreign thing, even if you are twins who know each other’s thoughts and emotions.

They had debated over leaving after you took out the trash, after they left the body under the flickering light of the lamp post, and helping clean up your wound, their worries overriding their instincts. 

Kieran had insisted to still follow the boss’ orders but Luke was the stubborn one this time, pointing out to might as well wait considering you aren’t budging ever since you put yourself near the warehouse doors, waiting patiently.

The screams had died down then, the gunshots gone, and all was left was the soft crackle of fire slowly dying down.

Here they are, standing near you as you sit on the ground with your beloved crow perched on your remaining antler, the good luck ribbon swaying against the wind.

“Didn’t I tell you I will fly back to you before the sun rises?”

A deep voice, familiar, coming out from inside the dark warehouse, black snow falling around you and your ears drooped.

“Then we still have time,” you smiled and with outstretched hands you continued, “Fly to me then.”

He should be angry.

He should be angry that you chose to be stubborn at this time.

He should be angry that the twins listened to you.

Yet, he can’t find the heart to do so, not right now, when the ash is slowly settling and all he wants is to indeed, return to your side.

He was about to step out and it will just take him five more strides to get to you but he hesitated when he get a glimpse of what he looked like right now through the metallic door.

He really does look hideous.

Will you still look at him the same if he wears this shape?

“The sun is rising,” you gently said, coaxing him.

His sweetheart, so naive.

“Close your eyes for me,” he answered and you did as you were told.

Earnest.

Sweet.

Precious.

He rested his snout on your hands and he watched your reaction, your fingers mapping out the scales, occasionally grazing the exposed teeth.

“When did you become so rough, Mister Dragon?”

“All so I can defend myself, Miss Deer.”

You hummed, pulling him close with your face leaning against his snout. 

“When did you become so warm, Mister Dragon?”

“All so I can hold you closer, Miss Deer.”

He laughed softly, pushing his forehead against yours, and oddly enough, he found himself purring in delight that you have always managed to surprise him.

“When did you become so large, Mister Dragon?”

“All so I can protect you, Miss Deer.”

You never opened your eyes once, and slowly the scales you were touching were replaced by warm skin, his forehead against yours and he leaned down to rub his remaining horn against your sole antler.

Both of you, a mirror image of each other but not quite.

“Of all the creatures I have held, you are the warmest.”

“And you are the kindest.”

This time, he leaned down and kissed both of your eyelids and he wanted to keep his eyes at you longer, to see the morning light on your face but his eyes are becoming heavier.

How long was it since he slept on a hard surface? To sleep unguarded?

Exhaustion never crept in so fast before but here he is, already making himself comfortable on your lap and you didn’t stop him, your hand trying to look for his hair and he gently held your wrist to guide you.

“You know, boss, you have a bed back at the base.”

“Never thought I would see you sleeping in a place like this.”

You chuckled softly and Sylus did too, barely audible, a small huff, as he leaned further against your touch and with sleep finally creeping in, the night slowly becoming day, the radio left on in the guardhouse played from a distance and a brief smile cross his face, recognizing the last lines of the song. It was, afterall, the famous aria played in the opera where he first laid eyes on you for the first time.

Who would have thought using that form would tire him out?

Maybe you did the right call staying within the edges of this already burnt warehouse because he might fall asleep on his way back and he knows you wouldn’t be too happy if he come in a little later.

You and your adorable pout and drooping deer ears.

He would really hate to disappoint you.

“Let sleeping dragons lie.”

It was a quiet answer, your fingers on your lips and the twins laughed with his mechanical crow letting out a small beep. His eyes are closing, watching the morning rays overwhelm the brilliant stars and the skies have never felt nearer with him on lying on your lap.

Night is coming to an end, the fateful day that you will finally say his real name, he hopes, has arrived and one by one, each of your voice faded in the background until the last thing he heard was the last line of the song, and he mumbled along with it, a faint smile on his lips.

"All'alba, vincerò!

Vincerò! Vincerò!"

.

.

.

Victory tastes like white rabbit milk candy.

────────────────────

Author's Note: I think I used a lot of symbolism and references in this part but my favorite is the white rabbit milk candy and (the last lines from the opera Turandot). I got that after listening to Mili's Iron Lotus (Yes, I had second hand suffering watching people's playthrough getting their asses burn by Xiao from Library of Ruina). I think I would have finished writing this earlier but I live in a place where public spaces like libraries is a foreign concept and walking around is like Subway Surfers here.

I might make a playlist of all songs I made references to in the future after I am done with this. This chapter mentally exhausted me tbh I think I need to rewatch Delicious in Dungeon for the nth time again this weekend.

Four more chapters (Already including the epilogue)! See you next update!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (5)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of former shitty boyfriends, the reader doesn’t take shit from anyone, sexy mobsters, slow burn (kinda), fluff, first date, a hint of making out, please don’t put your cat into a tux 😉

Indecent Proposal (4)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“8 pm, wear whatever you want,” you read the message coming along with the huge bouquet of roses out loud. “If you want to, you can wear the gift.”

You dip your head to glance at the box containing the most beautiful, and probably most expensive dress you ever saw. Sexy but classy, your mother would say.

They gifted you a rose solid one-shoulder cape bodycon dress. “It’s nice but…” You lick your lips.

Scott never put much effort into your dates. The only thing he ever bought for you was some ice cream. In the end, he ate it and you had to buy a new one.

“It’s really nice,” you dip your head to look at your cat. “What do you think, Alpine? Do you want mommy to wear the dress and get banged like never before or do we want to spend the night cuddling on the sofa?”

Alpine lifts his head, meows, and ignores you once again. He’s a lazy fluffy beast when you are alone. Your cat only ever got aggressive and loud when Scott was around.

“So…you want me to go and have some fun?” You question. “Come on, Alpine. I need your help to decide if it’s better to pack my shit and run or get whatever I desire from those sexy bastards.”

Alpine slowly gets up from the bed to walk toward the box with the dress. He steps inside with two paws, sniffing at the dress. “What?”

He meows loudly and jumps into the box to snuggle into the dress.

“Now that’s not nice of you! Alpine, you’ll ruin the dress. There will be hairs all over the dress, you sneaky bastard!”

You sigh and grab your phone. If you want to go out, you gotta tell them you cannot wear the dress.

“Hello doll,” Bucky immediately picks up the phone, taking you by surprise. You almost dropped the phone. “What can I do for you, pretty girl?”

“I-I can’t wear the dress, Mr. Barnes.”

“Why? Do you not like it? It’s the color, right?” Steve must’ve snatched the phone out of his husband’s hands. “I told Bucky so.”

“No…it’s nice…very nice….but Alpine just snuggled into the box and won’t let me grab the dress. He’s a bastard!”

“Let me handle this!” You hear a commotion, and then someone knocks at your door. “Doll! Y/N! It’s me Bucky. Lemme inside. I’ll take the bastard down.”

“What?” You walk a little faster when you hear his voice grow louder. “Mr. Barnes. What are you doing?” You scream as the door bursts open.

“Where is the bastard?” He rushes inside your apartment, gun aimed as you stumble back. “Where is he? Did he hurt you? Are you hurt?” Bucky looks you up and down while Steve follows him inside your apartment.

“No-no—” you stammer and point at your bedroom. “Please don’t shoot him. He’s an asshole but I like him.”

“I got it covered!” Bucky disappears inside your bedroom, and you worry he’ll shoot your cat. A heartbeat passes, and another until you hear him chuckle inside your bedroom.

“Please don’t shoot him!”

“Stevie, look at that little bastard!” Bucky walks out of the room, holding your cat in his arms. “The little furball snuggled into the dress I got for Y/N. I bet he smelled me on it. Look.”

You gasp as your cat rubs his head against Bucky’s chest. He purrs and allows Bucky to pat his head. “But…but he hates men.”

“Nah, he loves me,” Bucky ruffles Alpine’s fur. “Right buddy? You like your new daddy.”

“Buck, no!” Steve shakes his head. He already knows what his husband is about to say.

“Can we keep him? Let’s bring Y/N and the cat home,” Bucky hums as your cat jumps onto his shoulder. Alpine taps Bucky’s shoulder with his paws before getting comfortable. “Aw, look at the pretty boy.”

“You must excuse my husband,” Steve sighs again. “He just loves getting all the attention from pretty girls and boys.”

“As if you never tried to get some pretty guy’s attention,” Bucky grunts.

“Well, I got yours, didn’t I,” the blonde says. “I don’t have time for other boys. You give me a run for my money already.”

“Can we keep him?” Bucky pouts and points at your cat on his shoulder. “Doll, you wanna go home with us and take Alpine with you, right?”

“We were talking about a date,” you point out. They don’t need to know you imagined how it would be to live with them. “I can’t just move in with you. I got a job, and my cat…and all my stuff.”

Steve looks around your living room. “We can bring all your belongings to our home within three hours. No problem.”

You gape at them. “What? When I tried to get a mover, they told me I’d get an appointment in four months!”

“Oh, baby doll,” Steve cups your face with both hands (much to his husband’s chagrin) and presses a soft kiss on your lips. “Your wish is our command. Name it and it will happen.”

“I-“ You're overwhelmed once again. No one ever put so much effort into winning you over. Scott simply invited you for dinner (which you had to pay for in the end). “I wanted to have dinner first and wear the dress.”

“Hmmm…” Bucky nods thoughtfully. “How about we order the food you love from any restaurant in town? We can eat within an hour.”

“Let me guess,” you roll your eyes at Steve, “you want me to have dinner with you at your home.”

“Bucky is not wrong,” Steve gets cocky and steals another kiss, eagerly suckling at your tongue. “We would have you all to ourselves and you’d have our full attention. We promised to behave too.”

“I don’t believe you,” you cup the back of Steve’s back and dominate the next kiss, “but you broke my door. I’ll have dinner with you at your home and spend the night at your home with Alpine until you repair my door.”

“Woohoo!” Bucky whistles. “We will get lucky soon, Steve.”

“No sex!” You tut. “I want more than one date. If you want to have children with me, I’m going to be a mom, and you are going to be fathers. We should know more about each other than the size of your dicks and how my pussy tastes.”

“Oh, fuck me, Stevie! She’s going to be the death of us…”

“How did you do this?” You step inside the dining room, gasping loudly as there are roses on the table, and candles lit. You can smell the food you ordered and the two of them wait for you, wearing tuxedos.

“Magic,” Bucky smirks as you glance at Alpine sitting on one of the chairs. “See, Alpine is wearing a tux too.”

“How’d you get the beast inside the tux?”

“I made a few calls while Bucky dressed the cat,” Steve walks toward you to pull the chair for you. “He’s a little giddy tonight. Bucky is pumped up from the incident earlier. He didn’t listen to your words and believed you were in danger.”

“How’d you come to my place so fast?” You sit down and watch the men take a seat next to you. Steve to your right, and Bucky to your left. “Wouldn’t it be better if we can look each other in the eyes while having dinner?”

“We were watching your apartment to make sure you’re safe and sound,” Bucky blurs out before Steve can come up with a lie. “We care for you, baby doll.”

“Did you stalk me?” You cock a brow. “Bucky?”

He’s busy playing with your cat and doesn't answer.

“We call it keeping you safe, Y/N,” Steve answers before his husband can mess the night up even more. “Our kind of business is dangerous. We fear that people already know that you are our girl. Scott couldn’t keep you safe, but we can.”

“I don’t know if you want to scare me,” you lean closer to Steve to look him deep in the eyes, “or make me wet before I have had dinner…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ⸻ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: christmas, enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 0.6k

chapter summary: the fireflies are dying one by one and you're desperately seeking a way out.

warnings: age gap, canon typical violence, spoilers for the season one finale

**dividers by @saradika

You smell blood. Feel it almost. The heat, the stickiness of it. Despite the clean walls and the sterile smell you know something is wrong. Something is very wrong—the fireflies are dying. One by one. Their light snuffed out, left to rot. 

You knew this would happen. After all of what you’ve done, what Marlene has done. It was wrong, and karma always hungers after those who wronged her—Killing a little girl to save the world. . . hiding it from her. . . It was the trolley problem come to life. You never could answer that question, never could decide what was deemed right and wrong in that situation. Now, it seemed like all of you had chosen wrong. And you were being punished for it. The Angel of Death sought to claim you all.

At least it’s better than getting infected. At least the bullet would be shot right between your eyebrows and you’ll be dead before you can blink. 

Your finger presses stubbornly against the trigger as you move. You still have the boldness of youth. Maybe you can escape. Maybe you can be free. You wanted out a long time ago, just scared to be out there all on your own. 

Your lips press tightly together upon seeing a body, you don’t know his name, don’t dwell on it as you jump over his corpse and head for the exit. You hear gunshots. Screams. Shouts. You smell blood—such a persistent smell—You smell fear. Death is coming for you. Your footsteps gain momentum, you feel his breath on the back of your neck and the nuzzle cold against your forehead.

Then you see him. Just as you’re turning the corner, heart beating in your throat and sweat beading out of every pore, you see him—the angel of death. 

And fuck—you know you shouldn’t think it, but the mass killer is beautiful. 

Without even thinking you drop your gun and raise your hands. The best way to survive is to expose your neck to the beast. Showing you mean no harm. You don’t kick a raging lion. 

He doesn’t seem to see it though. His eyes stare right past you. He barely blinks, blood of the fireflies coating his already dirty shirt. He cocks the gun and you know he’s ready to shoot, your eyes go wide. You don’t want to die. Not yet. Not without finding any semblance of peace or belonging. 

“Please don’t,” you blurt out. His eyes seem to focus then, dark soulless gaze flitting across your face, noticing your raised hands. “I just want to leave. She’s on the top floor, at the end of the hall—Please don’t shoot.” 

He observes you a beat longer. From the way his muscles tense you think he’s about to shoot, why wouldn’t he? What made you different from all the rest? 

You close your eyes, chest rising painfully. There’s a loud hum in your ear. Maybe it’s the rush of blood? You think about your life, of all the death surrounding you. All you remember is the outbreak. Every memory tainted with curling cordyceps ever since you were six. You remember your mother holding you by the hand and yanking your arm so hard you thought it would be ripped off the socket. Your father trying to protect you both, leading the way—You remembered the day Marlene found you, time spent with the fireflies, the excitement when the immune girl was found. . . 

The train of thought would end with a measly bullet. 

A bullet that never came. A gun that never fired. 

When you open your eyes he was gone. 

You have no idea what it was—maybe it was the fact that you were significantly younger than the other soldiers, maybe it was because you were already out through the door when he pointed a gun at you— no matter what it was you were miraculously spared from the bloodshed.

The angel of death has spared you. 

[myownwholewildworld]

THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE (a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover) - sneak peek

READ NOW HERE.

pairing: din djarin x f!reader. a/n: i don't really know what i got myself into. i suspect this is going to be a very lengthy oneshot >': have i given Din a big scar on his face? yes. have i made him blind in one eye? yes. am i losing my mind connecting all the dots between both worlds? ohh hell yeah. leaving this here for some motivation as i'm at 4k and it's only like 10% of the story 🫠 if anyone wants to be in the taglist for this one please do let me know. love y'all <3

He eyed you for a little longer, Mrs. Kri’gee lying in wait. He didn’t need to kill you yet, first he needed to find out why you were here and if you were part of a larger group ― if there was a remote possibility of someone looking for you, he had to know.

Din signalled to Mrs. Kri’gee to come out of hiding but to not attack yet. And so it did promptly. The droid walked out in front of you, startling you so bad you almost fell backwards.

“Identify yourself,” his droid asked you.

You snorted, hand slowly moving backwards towards the blaster pistol on your holster.

“You identify yourself, you little piece of― metal,” you bit your tongue back.

“Nicknamed Mrs. Kri’gee by my Alor. IG-11 assassin droid. Serial Number 730X21G. Manufactured by Holowan Mechanicals in 1 ABY. First assigned to―”

“Alright, alright. Whatever,” you scoffed, fingers curling around the grip of your gun. “What is a droid like you doing here anyway?”

While you were distracted chatting to Mrs. Kri’gee, Din had come out of his hiding place, heavy boulder on hand. Stealthy as a predator, he raised his arm above your head and smashed the rock against your skull with no hesitation at all.

You plummeted to the ground instantly, rendered unconscious in a split second. Towering above you, Din walked around your body and crouched down in front of you. His gloved fingers moved a few strands of silky hair out of the way, following the tiny stream of blood dripping down your temple. The wound wasn’t too bad ― he was sure you’d survive the blow.

“Pick her up,” he commanded the droid, who willingly complied. In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Kri’gee was carrying you over the shoulder, as if you were a light sack full of gloomroots.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Assigned | Alex Mason x Reader

Summary: Mason gets a new assignment, you, a woman under witness protection, and gets a bit too attached to you, too quickly.

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: smut, fingering, p in v, wall sex?, mild overstimulation, mentions of death, violence, strangulation, gun violence, very minor character death, fem!reader, blood, mention of 9/11, flashbacks, mentions of suicide, PTSD, cuddling, they sorta barely know each other but whatever

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: this was a lovely request from @leavemealoneplsandthx , honestly I don’t think this is good since writers block hit me like a freight train and it took me nearly a week to get it done, but I hope you can still enjoy<3

Requests are open!

His feet echoed against the marble floor, numbers, and voices clawing at the edges of his vision before he willed them away with a patience he’d been forced to learn.

It felt like it had been years since he’d been here, though he knew it had only been months.

The U.S. Capitol.

“As you know, your assigned staff psychiatrist, Dr. Adrienne Smith, and Chief Analyst, Ryan Jackson, have both determined you to be unfit at this moment to re-enter full service just yet.”

His shrink. Threatening suicide to her just to get his way hadn’t done him a favor.

And Jackson. That wasn’t a new name, he’d heard it before, probably just in emails and mission reports.

Mason was fit for service. He knew he was. He was in shape, mentally sound on a good day, he could hold a gun and he knew how to slit a throat. If Hudson would just send him back out—just for a moment, with Woods, he could—

“We’ve found you a new assignment, to keep you…occupied.”

Hudson’s nearly flat voice had almost a hint of suspicion, maybe even worry, though Mason had personally never seen Jason Hudson worried over anything simple, as it echoed around the large room they passed through, its dome-shaped roof with a painting at the top, the Apotheosis, it’s angels staring down at him with judgment.

Not like it mattered.

He already knew he wasn’t going to Heaven, anyway.

Forcing his mind to refocus, he narrowed in on Hudson, his own legs carrying him after the man, the itchy material of a suit annoying him. Hudson was also clad in a suit, the man having shaved for once, smelling of expensive cologne and aftershave. His head was smooth enough that Mason could probably see his reflection in it if he looked hard enough.

His eyes shifted to their surroundings, the marble carving as they left the rotunda room, shined dress shoes clacking against the floor a bit louder than Alex would’ve preferred.

Marble was everywhere, the white staining his eyes until he blinked, and then suddenly, they were at the door. He’d been here before.

A room. A round table, and as he walked in, he was greeted by John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

The numbers clawed at his mind, static from TVs surrounding a chair, electric shocks worming their way through his mind, secure keys, ascend from darkness, reign fire, unleash hordes, skewer the beast—wield iron—raise hell—freedom—

“Focus, Mason.” A familiar low, rustic voice with a Russian accent murmured.

No, it was George H.W. Bush sitting in that chair in front of him, Hudson gestured for Mason to step into the room, to take a seat after a simple salute, and Alex did.

“Mr. President.”

Hudson said with a nod, and Mason gave a little nod himself, shaking Bush’s hand.

The man looked analytical, watching, surely careful after the recent terrorist attack. The Twin Towers were ruined, and the Pentagon hit, though they were still attempting to cover it up, thousands dead and more injured.

An absolute mess.

“Mr. Mason, I understand that you are the best we currently have available for this.”

The door shut behind them, but Mason could still feel Hudson behind them. Not risking anything, not after the JFK incident. He could already see it in his head, Hudson’s hand on his pistol, finger all too ready to pull the trigger.

The door opened. Someone else stepped in, the pat of feet against the carpet reaching his ears, just as he stood and turned, reaching for a gun at his waist that wasn’t there, as he’d been banned from having weapons within the White House years ago.

Hudson was equally as alert, but visibly relaxed, giving Alex a clear motion to sit back down and settle as a woman entered, face hidden under the hood of a long jacket, guards on either side of her, and stood almost expectantly as the doors closed.

Bush stood, shaking hands firmly with the woman, before turning to Alex.

“This is…”

He paused, before shaking his head and continuing.

“You’ll know her as Sydney Harper. She is, at this moment, and for the foreseeable future, under extreme witness protection, as a witness to the killing of someone…important. That’s all you need to know.”

His new assignment. To babysit someone who’d witnessed a murder. If it had been him, he would’ve just put a bullet in your head and been done with it, no witnesses.

Mason had done witness protection only once before, and his assignment had ended up dead after running off on their own, claiming the measures they went to were too extreme.

Alex stood, going to shake your hand, only to be met with possibly the most wet-fish handshake he’d felt in quite a while.

“A pleasure, Mrs. Harper.”

Not your real name, surely, but witness protection meant you had an entirely new identity.

Not just a new identity, you’d need a new job, new interests, new hobbies, new clothes, everything. Witness protection was always a pain in the ass, especially for him.

Hudson cleared his throat, adjusting his dark shades to sit better on the bridge of his nose, giving a pointed glance to Mason.

“Mason, this is your assignment.”

And that was the nail in the coffin. No more missions for him, just this assignment.

Well, if his job was to protect you, then he’d do a damn good job at it, at least.

~

“So you’re…what? My professional babysitter?”

You asked, looking at the man across the table from the house you’d been taken to. Your ‘home’ now.

Files sat on the table, backstory, information, medical history, credit card info, everything about your supposed new life stored away so sterile and impersonally it almost stung.

Your name? Completely changed. Everything was changed, most likely done by a bored CIA department worker.

They’d find you a job in the future, according to Hudson, the bald man you’d talked with, and give you insurance, a salary, and more for you to “blend in” so nobody found who you were. Everything you’d loved about your past life was gone, however, so was the society that had always been suppressing you.

You were still adjusting, as culture shock settled in, to the newer freedoms you were allowed.

Where you’d previously been? It was nothing like now. And though the United States had its problems, its freedoms gradually disappeared as corrupt figures took over, at least you had the bare minimum of rights here.

You at least had the First Amendment, until they took those.

Until you fully adjusted and learned to blend in, your job was simply to stay alive, and unnoticed.

“Essentially, yes.”

The man looked bored, but paying attention, his eyes going around the room, identifying entrances and exits, though you didn’t know it. His hair was slicked back, the faint smell of a cheap gel coming from him.

He stood with his arms crossed, occasionally readjusting the sleeves of his shirt, having changed into some jeans, a loose shirt, and a black leather jacket that looked as if it had been through hell and back. A poor attempt at looking civilian, in your opinion, but god knows the man, “Mr. Mason”, as you’d heard him being called, looked like he wasn’t used to being anywhere other than a battleground.

“And you are…?” Your voice trailed off, looking him up and down, finding him to not be terrible eye candy, despite his shockingly stiff demeanor.

You at least wanted to know the name of your glorified babysitter, especially if he’d be stuck by your side for the next few months, years, or god knows how long.

He seemed a bit surprised by that, glancing up at your eyes, looking for the intent behind that question. He’d expected you to be frazzled, maybe quiet, withdrawn from witnessing a brutal murder, but you seemed quite the opposite.

Snapping at him, demanding, he found that he quite liked it. A woman of your caliber wasn’t one he found often.

“Alex.”

He answered simply, grabbing your new ID from the table, studying it for a moment, and slipping it into one of the many pockets of his pants. Your brows wrinkled as you tried to snatch it out of his hand before it was shoved away, failing.

“What was that for? That’s my ID, you know—“

He waved a hand dismissively, moving to the door of the small apartment the two of you were staying in for now.

“Yeah, yeah, got it, hon. I oughta start charging you for all these questions.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, I don’t even have any money!”

You slid your old shoes on quickly, running after him, his brisk walking pace combined with his long legs not exactly helping you keep up.

“I accept payment in other methods.”

He quipped back, raising a brow at you, the sass in his tone evident.

Maybe he wasn’t as boring as you’d thought.

You didn’t bother to bite back a scoff, looking at him as if he was insane, the both of you moving to the streets.

“Oh, please, I'm not that desperate,”

You retorted, glancing at the front of a store, as Alex led you inside, taking a deliberate step closer to you until you could almost feel his body heat against yours. His hand slipped around your arm, till the two of you were linked together like a middle school couple in the hallways.

Wondering if he was normally this protective over his assignments, you mused to yourself as you watched him immediately find the people in the shop, studying them, ensuring they weren’t a threat.

He must’ve seen your mouth about to open, because he answered what he’d assumed was about to come out of it.

“You’re going to need new clothes. Your old shit ain’t gonna cut it, we need something you’ll look “natural in”.”

The last bit of the sentence was said almost sarcastically by him, in a way that made you let out the slightest snort of amusement.

“I’m guessing that last bit is from Hudson?” You asked, amused, and he threw a small hint of a grin back your way, all the while leading you up to the women’s section.

There were racks upon racks of clothing, all of which seemed nice, the sort of comfortable that you would wear to a laid-back church, but also relax in at home.

Dresses, shirts, jackets, sweaters, pants, skirts, socks, even bras and panties, and a few selections of shoes awaited you. A worker was nearby, wearing a company uniform, tidy and neat.

Her blond hair was curled in beach waves, and she held a cigarette between her fingers, fluttering her lashes at you two—more notably, at Alex, as she let out a small giggle at the sight of you.

You thought she sounded like a squirrel high on cough medicine. Alex didn’t seem any more impressed than you. This time, your hand was the one to possessively slide around his arm, a strained smile filled with poison as you looked at the worker.

“Oh, well aren’t you two a cute couple��need any help..finding anything?”

For some reason, you didn’t want to tell her that you two weren’t a couple. Mason didn’t say anything either, gaze pinning the woman down in a way that didn’t even seem vaguely friendly.

“No thanks.”

He spoke carefully, his words measured with a sharp, precise calm that seemed unnerving even to you. The girl must’ve caught the hint, walking away as her shoes clicked against the floor.

A sound you liked.

Alex glanced down at your grip on his arm, your nails digging into his skin, leaving little crescent half-moons, and cast you a glance, amused and knowing, though a hint of his earlier eeriness remained.

“You’re enjoying this.”

You hissed at him, letting go of his arm and giving his foot a solid stomp on the toes, only for nothing to happen, as he was wearing steel-toed boots. Of course.

“Can you blame me?”

Military men.

Moving away from the living, breathing headache of a man you might’ve grown a bit attached to, you began looking through the clothing, trying to find something at least presentable to wear that was comfortable too.

He stayed by your side, achingly close, as you skimmed through a few of the lighter dresses, appropriate for the hotter weather that would probably be upcoming in this area. If you were going to get new clothes, they would at least fit the weather here.

“That one’s pretty.”

Alex spoke, gesturing to a floral dress, and he wasn’t exactly wrong. Its colors would match you, and it seemed the right fit.

But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

Looking it up and down, you grabbed it, evaluating it, until shrugging.

“It’s alright, I can try it on later.” He stayed nearly stuck to your side for the next thirty minutes, at some point his eyes lingering on that same worker, watching almost too carefully for your liking.

You glanced over at him, finally having picked out all of the clothing you were willing to try on, and potentially buy, only to catch him staring again. This time, he glanced at you, obviously seeing the pissy look in your eyes, and his brows furrowed a bit. Almost confused.

“I’m going to go try these on. Have fun staring at her all day.”

Maybe his neurons finally connected, because he opened his mouth to speak, maybe explain himself, until you stormed off, going to the changing room, hanging the clothes you’d picked out on the hangers.

You decided to try the dress he’d picked out first, maybe just out of spite, the venom churning in your stomach, or the fact that you hoped it looked awful on you just to get back at him.

Slipping your shoes off, you tugged your clothes off, leaving only the underlayer on, and moved to slip on the floral dress. The fabric was soft and a bit stretchy, letting it easily mold over your body, tight in the right places, but there was a pair of buttons on the back you just couldn’t get your hands on.

Sighing, you turned around, brushing your hair out of the way, looking at your back in the mirror to try and help with the buttons, failing miserably even at that.

If you had someone to help—just a bit, even Alex, as double-sided as he was, flirting with you then not keeping his eyes off of another woman, would be useful in this situation.

As if on cue, you heard footsteps entering the rows of stalls of changing rooms. Surely, it was Alex. The store hadn’t been too occupied when the two of you had entered, and it was likely him just trying to follow after you.

“Alex, can you come help me button this?” You called, and only silence rang out in the bathroom. A hint of embarrassment, that maybe it hadn’t been him, rose, but before it got far a knock sounded on your stall.

The small feeling that something was wrong hit, but you pushed it down, holding the back of the dress together with your hand as you slid the lock of the stall open.

It wasn’t Alex.

The sting in your face registered before the man before you, the one that you definitely knew was not Alex Mason, did in your mind. Then, you came to the realization that he’d hit you, and everything seemed to move in a blur, time slowing as you watched him move into the small stall-like room, pushing the door closed as he slipped a small, black gun out of his jacket.

Panic kicked in, your sympathetic nervous system kicked in as fight or flight took over, and common sense flew out of the window.

You tried knocking the gun out of the man’s hands, all the while moving forward and kneeing him in the crotch, his face blurring as you focused on the gun, hell, you’d later find you would barely be able to recall what he’d looked like at all, panic overriding everything else.

He let out a grunt, the gun being knocked loose, clattering to the floor, and you both lunged for it, him elbowing you as pain sparked through your nerves, and you biting the elbow that made contact with your face as hard as you could.

Your hand was close—just a few more inches—

He struggled to his feet, forgoing his earlier goal of grabbing the gun as he instead wrapped a burly arm around you in a headlock, squeezing your Carotid arteries and cutting off the flow of blood from your brain.

You tried yelling for help, finding no sound would come out at all. Your nails clawed at his arms, trying to pull them off to no avail.

Attempting to reach for the gun with your foot, you managed to get the tip of your sock on it, before the man grunted and kicked it behind him.

The dark spots in your vision grew bigger, the world turning to dizzy blotches of color as you tried to breathe, lungs burning, head throbbing. You couldn’t last much longer.

Just before you nearly succumbed to the lack of oxygen, you heard the smallest sound, though everything sounded as if you had cotton balls shoved in your ears, and it was of a gun cocking.

Your arms went limp, and the silenced weapon fired.

“Jesus—“

A familiar voice—Alex’s voice—spoke, shoving the man off of you. You took a gasp of air, throat aching and sore, as your lungs burned with each intake of air.

Your hands were shaking as you grabbed ahold of Alex, vision coming back in little spurts as you nearly hyperventilated, looking at the body of the man on the floor, now registering the full details of his appearance.

He’d been tall, taller than you at least, with dark hair and an unkempt beard, now with a bullet hole lying between his furry brows.

A little trickle of blood slid down his nose in horrifying detail, before Mason forcefully turned your head away, and you heard a shuffling noise, another stall opening and closing, and when you looked back the body was gone, and Alex stood before you with his arms crossed.

“You don’t get to run off like that—not when things like this can happen,”

He began, not even bothering to avert his gaze from your body, seeming to rather enjoy the look of the dress that hadn’t even yet been buttoned on you.

“Oh, right, as if you weren’t distracted by the employee, if I hadn’t known better I’d think she was your assignment.”

You snapped, hand going to pull the back of the dress together again as you gave him a look. His eyes narrowed as he took a step toward you, though not threatening, he knew better than to try and threaten you after such a close call.

His head tilted slowly to the side, in almost mocking curiosity.

“You thought I was trying to flirt with her?”

The words made that hint of embarrassment flare up again, the fact that you already felt a claim of ownership over a man you’d only met a day ago.

“Am I wrong?”

A step closer. You were up against the wall, swallowing thickly. He was mere inches away from you, breath fanning against you.

“You’re my assignment. She wasn’t.”

Wasn’t. Not isn’t.

He was closer, so so close, until you could smell the subtle hint of pine and snowy wilderness surrounding him, an intensity in his eyes.

You leaned forward, hands timidly going out to touch him, one landing on his shoulder. He stiffened as you slid your hand up his neck, all the way until cupping his cheek, hesitancy danced in his eyes as he tried to hold back, faltering when you leaned in just a bit more.

He reciprocated, gently pressing his lips against yours, before pulling back again.

For a moment, the air seemed still, and both of you simply stared in something like shock, until he reached forward, his calloused hand sliding to the back of your head as his lips collided with yours again, this time not gentle, a fierce kiss.

You leaned in, head spinning as your hands pawed at his jacket, sliding down his chest as his tongue shoved between your lips, being met by your own until your fingers caught on his belt.

Both of you pulled away only a moment to take a gasp for air, you being breathless for a different reason than a few moments ago. A much better reason, now.

“We shouldn’t..”

You breathed out as his hands went to his belt, yanking the metal clasp open and off, tugging the belt off and the front of his pants down. His brows furrowed as he palmed the bulge in his boxers, his hands soon moving to the back of the dress.

“But you want to. I want to.”

He murmured, leaning his body a bit into yours as his hands slowly tugged the clothing off of you, hand slipping into your drenched panties, running thick, calloused fingers through your folds.

Your breath caught, eyelids flickering shut just a bit as you felt his finger slip into your cunt, only testing the waters, as he soon scissored one more in—then another—and everything was a blur of motion and movement.

All of a sudden, you were up against the wall of the dressing room, a certain Alex Mason holding you up with mesmerizing ease, fingers all of a sudden slipping out of you as quick as they’d come.

A pathetic whining sound left you, something you’d surely be embarrassed about later, or not, at the sudden loss of sensation.

“Easy, hon,” Alex cooed to you, his gentle voice a direct opposite of the way he harshly tugged his cock out of his boxers, and glancing down through hazy vision, you swallowed thickly.

Thick, not bad length-wise either, the tip weeping with pre-cum that he swiped away with his thumb before shifting, lining it up with your entrance.

His eyes met yours, looking for confirmation, and approval from you, and the little nod you gave was enough for him as he began slowly pushing in, a groan slipping from between his lips.

“Christ,” Mason cursed, brows furrowing as he slipped a finger to rub quick circles on your clit, eager to bring you the same pleasure he was feeling.

The warm intrusion of his dick in your cunt had you squirming, breathing out shaky breaths as your legs shook, pleasure lighting your nerves up as you threw your head back.

He began shallow little thrusts, the way his thighs shook telling you he wouldn’t last long either. You could’ve sworn he was letting out the tiniest little whimpers, his eyes shutting tightly, finger rubbing harder, faster on your clit, not giving you any mercy.

“Too much, I can’t—“

Too much too fast, the floodwaters built until the levees broke, and your orgasm came all too rapidly for you, your cunt clamping down around Alex as he let out a sharp, “Fuck!”, and then both of you were shaking.

His mouth was on yours, whether out of desire or the simple need to keep the both of you quiet, you weren’t sure but didn’t find the energy to care anyway.

After a few minutes, finally, he separated from you, gently pulling out and setting you down on the floor. You had to lean against the wall, gathering your clothes off of the changing room’s floor, and slipping your shirt on.

Your pants, however, were a different ordeal. After struggling to move your nearly numb legs into the holes, Alex cleared his throat, already having gotten himself back in order, and helped you into them.

After you’d gotten dressed, both of you just looked at each other for a moment and must’ve had the same thought, because you simply readjusted your hair, and he motioned to the door.

The walk back home was silent. You didn’t ask about who would handle the body, didn’t want to know more than you had to, and he seemed to prefer it that way.

Once you both got home, you took a shower, savoring the way the hot water burned away the sweat of the day, and soothed your aching throat from being constricted. You couldn’t help but wonder if the thing with Mason, the quick fuck, if it had been a mistake or not.

However, as you slipped into bed that night, clothed in some warm pajamas Alex must’ve stolen from the shop when you hadn’t been looking, you felt someone slip into your bed, warm arms cradling you and the familiar scent of pine and snow, you knew that your question was answered.

[loshed]

DNI list!!!!!!!!!!

french

if ur apart of any of these fandoms;

Bocchi The Rock, Sonic/Shadow, Super Sonico, Pac Man, Mario, Lookism, Haikyuu, Blue Lock, Spy x Family, Sally Face, Mystic Messenger, Katamari, Kill la Kill, Garfield, Aggretsuko, Pokemon, MLP, Monsters Inc, Lilo & Stitch, Monster High: 13 Wishes, The Lion King, WALL-E, Monsters vs. Aliens, The Last Unicorn, Rio, Gremlins, The Book of Life, 21 Jump Street, Deadpool, The Little Mermaid, Guardians of the Galaxy, The Super Mario Bros Movie, Don't Look Up, Little Miss Sunshine, A Silent Voice, Pokémon Detective Pikachu, Inside Out (1 + 2), Ice Age, Fear, E.T. Clueless, Despicable Me, Spree, Back Street Girls: Gokudols, Reacher, Breaking Bad, Death Note, Hunter x Hunter, Mob Psycho 100 (I, II, III), The Disastrous Life of Saiki K, Demon Slayer, Beastars, Kotaro Lives Alone, Spy x Family, K-ON, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Maid Sama, Parasyte, Assassination Classroom, Nanbaka, One Punch Man, Haven't You Heard? I'm Sakamoto, The Millionaire Detective – Balance: Unlimited, The Way of the Househusband, Lucky☆Star, Handa-kun, Angels of Death, That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Stars Align, Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun, Mashle: Magic and Muscles, Bucchigiri, Ouran High School Host Club, Monthly Girls' Nozaki-kun, My Love Story, My Hero Academia, Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online, Ahiru no Sora, The Promised Neverland, Blue Lock, Salaryman's Club, Romantic Killer, Buddy Daddies, Angel Beats, Psycho-Pass, Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions, Prison School, How Not to Summon a Demon Lord, Sarazanmai, High-Rise Invasion, Akiba Maid War, Sword Art Online, Aoashi, Reincarnated as a Sword, How to Win My Husband Over, Roxana, Semantic Error, Shutline, Under the Greenlight, Villainesses Have More Fun, The Guild Member Next Door, From Acting Genius To Top Idol!, My Delicious Dream Boy, The Fallen Duke & the Knight Who Hated Him, Little Mushroom, Duchess's Lo-Fi Coffeehouse, Odd Love Netkama PUNCH, The Player Hides His Past, The Fed Up Office Lady Wants To Serve The Villainess, I'll Save This Damned Family, Nan Hao and Shang Feng The Odd Couple, Master Villainess the Invincible, Park Hanhoo's Manager, 100 Ways to Seduce the Villain, I'll Just Live on as a Villainess, It Was Love at First Sight, Mr. Villain, Saving the Doomed Idols with my Touch, This Villainess Wants a Divorce, An Observation Log of My Fiancée Who Calls Herself a Villainess, Lout of Count's Family, I'm Not Cut Out to Be a Princess, so I'll Elope With the Villainess, How to Survive as a Maid in a Horror Game, Surviving In A Harem, The Villainess' Slow Prison Life Began with Her Broken Engagement, My In-laws are Obsessed With Me, Killer Crush, Not-Sew-Wicked Stepmom, Someone Possessed My Body For 10 Years, The One Within the Villainess, Please Don’t Come To The Villainess’ Stationery Store, 19 Days, Villains Are Destined to Die, The Perks of Being a Villainess, Who Made Me a Princess, Resetting Lady, Cheeky Habits of My Rabbits, Debut or Die, Newsies, Bye Bye Birdie, Christmas Carol, Wonka, Little mermaid, Shrek, Wizard of OZ, Anything goes, Sponge Bob, Beauty and the Beast, Guys and Dolls, Hamilton, Six, The guy who didn’t like musicals, ride the cyclone, Les Mis, The lighting thief, into the woods, Kinda bat boy, Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Zac McKraken and the Alien Mindbenders, Twisted Wonderland, Ultimate Shark Simulator, Hogwarts Mystery, KOTOR, Star Wars Assault Team, Minecraft, Jedi Fallen Order, Wild Kratts, Octonauts, TMNT 2012, Odd Squad, Dinosaur Train, Lego Friends, Monster High, Ever After High,Avatar the Last Air Bender, Sofia the first, Elena of Avalore, Overwatch, TF2, Hetalia, JJBA, Punch Out, Keeper of the lost cities, Riordanverse, The inheritance games, Heartless, Gifted clans series, Project hail mary, The martian, The illuminae files, The hunger games, The pandava quintet, Osemanverse, Wings of fire, Amari and the night brothers, The folk of the air, Deathcast, The song of achilles, DSMP, Bungou Stray Dogs, ROTTMNT, Tokyo Revengers,

System of a Down, The Smiths, Mindless Self Indulgence, Radiohead, lamp, Bruno Bars,Rory in Early 20s, Lana Del Rey, Usher, Pitbull, The Weeknd, Michael Jackson, P1Harmony, C418, Serani Poji, Mitski, Zella Day, Deftones, The Cardigans, Serani Poji, Chief Keef, The Neighbourhood, Block B, Mayo, Foo Fighters, The Killers, No Doubt, Coldplay, Allie X, Korn, Duster, The Smashing Pumpkins, FNAF, Danny Gonzalez, Kurtis Connor, Drew Gooden, Agent 00, Yumi, Jacksepticeye, Izzzyzzz, Slmccl, GunnarTV, Danny Motta, DanTDM, Temprist, Kubz Scouts, Berleezy, Flamingo, Good Pizza, Roblox, Shoujo City 2D, Fruit Ninja, Slipknot, Persona, Ace Attorney, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, Beabadoobee, Sabrina Carpenter, Gigi Perez , Caparezza, Hannibal, $uicideboy$, Genshin Impact, Wuthering Waves, Hi3, ZZZero, Honkai Star Rail, Animal Crossing, Phineas and Ferb, Dogman, Detroit become human, Tears over Fears, Loathe, Fleshwater, The cranberries, The Sundays, Bulldog Eyes, Boy Fantasy, YAOI, YURI, BOYS LOVE, GIRLS LOVE, Gravity Falls, Zero Day, GTA, Crane Wives, Salad Fingers, Hidamari Sketch, Squid Game, Jschlatt, Girls Band Cry, Gabba Friends, Lalaloopsy, Life is Strange, Last of us, Diva Starz, Shopkins, Barbie, Vocaloid, PJSK, Pewdiepie, Markiplier, Cry of fear, Dramatical Murder, South Park, After school lessons for unripe apples, Komi Can't Communicate, Yume Nikki, Red Valley, Will Wood, Bo Burnham, IDKHow, Naethan Apollo, Poppy Playtime, Dandy’s World, Resident Evil, Jake Gyllenhaal, Scott Pilgrim (movie, series, and comic), The Sims, Murder Drones, The Amazing Digital Circus, Baldi’s basics, My Singing Monsters

let me know if you can still interact so that i can get RID OF YOU!!

[lakemojave]

Mojave Reads X-Men: X-Men #3, X-Men #4, and X-Men #5

Ok so I got a little distracted since the last reading, but I got through some more comics! I do feel myself getting into a groove with these ones, and like last time they were all a hell of a lot of fun! 60s X-Men is really growing on me! I kinda feel like I'm learning more about the Silver Age of comic books than I am about the X-Men, but honestly that's kinda the bargain I made going into this.

This time we've got a lot of villains to introduce. Up to issue #4 we were mostly doing a villain or hijink of the week format, but now we need to give this superhero team a group of supervillain rivals! Naturally this means that Magneto comes back, but you might be surprised by just how many iconic characters and concepts are introduced in this group of issues. It may not be the thematically dense gravy that I hoped for with X-Men, but the bones for that fine substance are absolutely here.

And now, the review!

X-Men #3

This comic introduces the X-Men villain The Blob, who is simply a very large man. The X-Men try and fail to recruit him, then must fend off Blob's retaliatory invasion of clowns, jugglers, and acrobats. It is, in comparison to our previous issues, a standard Silver Age X-Men caper. And yet I had a ton of fun with this one.

These issues will always start with a training sequence in the Danger Room, giving our young heroes a chance to show off their abilities. You see, comics used to be written with new readers in mind, considering the fact that some young readers might miss last issue--the comic stand at the grocery store straight up might've run out of last month's issue! So these little scenes to show off the team's powers and reestablish the X-Men team dynamic are certainly repetitive, but I find them really charming for this reason.

Even if there are some repetitive elements, the status quo is slowly morphing. Cyclops' real name is Scott Summers, and this is the first issue to actually use that name for the guy. We establish that he's no nonsense, occasionally brooding, but is also harboring a secret attraction to Jean Grey (which the other boys are much less secretive about). At the same time though, we learn that Charles Xavier is ALSO attracted to Jean! On one hand, uh, what the fuck dude she is a teenager and you're like 30. On the other, this is the seed of lots of soap opera family drama that'll come to characterize the team dynamic as the X-Men swell in the 70s!

But enough about that. It's time for the circus.

The Blob's whole deal is that he's super strong, super huge, and super durable. It makes him a good carnival attraction, but learning he's a mutant and what the X-Men are makes him want a little more out of his current setup. We're gonna see a lot of this kind of conflict a lot I think, our favorite mutants trying to bring some wayward mutant into their ranks, then falling short due to a gap in what the two parties want out of being a mutant. It's understandable to want more from life, discovering that you're more extraordinary than your circumstances have lead you to believe. It's also hilarious to see that perspective articulated by an all out invasion by n army of clowns.

This might be the most chaotic ending battle we've seen so far. I genuinely had a lot of fun reading this bit. It's goofy, but everyone on the team has something to do in the fight, and their enemies are more diverse than just generic mob goons with tommy guns. It comes to an end after Professor X charges up a techno doohickey to use his psychic powers to stop Blob in his tracks, then wiping his memory of the mansion and sending him on his way.

It's straightforward and familiar, but the series is clearly evolving as we go. For instance, Beast is starting to drop his trademark five dollar words and his generally refined personality. Mr. Hank McCoy has been my least favorite part of these early comics because without anything like this to set him apart, then he's just a normal guy with his toes out all the time. Now, he's a normal guy with his toes out all the time who would also quote Tennyson in the middle of a fight.

Good comic, but after 3 issues I've been excited for some kind of movement in the overall story of this team. I need them to have something to do that has consequence, something with real drama. I might not get that for a while, but issue 4 at least comes pretty close to satisfying.

X-Men #4

You know I'm not the first person to say this but I always thought "Brotherhood of Evil Mutants" was an odd name. Like if you genuinely believe that your cause is just, why would you willingly call yourselves that? It's a bit like the name Decepticons, right? An immediate red flag to anyone you're trying to convince to your side. "We are the league of murderliars, and our intentions are noble and pure!"

That said, I'm kind of astounded by how much is introduced here. After our standard training sequence and then a 1 year X-Men team anniversary celebration, we shift over to their villainous counterpart. I'm kind of shocked by how many pivotal characters in the canon are introduced here! Toad and Mastermind are here, they're alright I guess, but our other two members are Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver! I didn't know that these characters were so foundational to the fabric of the X-Men franchise, and it goes deeper! Wanda gets a brief backstory flashback that is the first time we see any kind of xenophobia and prejudice against mutants, an aspect of Wanda's character that is still with us to this day!

It's still all very silly, make no mistake. Magneto's back, but his personality is still pretty generic and the dialogue is still very stupid. Magneto's plan is to take over a South American island nation using an American battleship and Mastermind's power of mass hallucination. The panel that shows how Magneto steals the ship is hilarious, and Charles has one of my favorite lines in the series so far.

Yes. Who would dare attack a South American nation unprovoked. Utterly unthinkable.

There is so much stuff in this issue though. By this point, I think we're zeroing in on what concepts the readers are coming back for, and there's something about Magneto that comes off as pretty compelling! This issue establishes that he and Charles have some kind of history, giving them their first of many psychic conversations, and the very first usage of the iconic rallying cry, "Magneto was right!" The context of these things are all very threadbare, but as someone who loves Magneto as a character in the modern day, it's all so compelling to me.

The funniest part of the whole issue is probably when Magneto sets up a nuclear fuckin bomb to blow up the island he just took over. Dude is just making up this plan as he goes I guess.

The comic ends with the team escaping the island with an incapacitate Charles, who claims that his psychic powers aren't working anymore! Oh fuck! Now they have to defeat Magneto and his evil mutants all on their own!

X-Men #5

This is another hefty one! The evil mutants are still out and about so the X-Men have to stop them, following them to their secret base and kicking their ass without any support from ol' Xavier. What's exciting about this one is that their secret base has shifted from some unidentified island in the Atlantic to something more iconic.

This is Asteroid M! I actually know this one from X-Men '97, in which Magneto hoists this whole fuckin thing out of the sea and launches it back into space. It's a fantastic villain's base, suitable to Magneto's whole deal and emblematic of the evil mutants' "Homo Superior" mindset, seeing themselves above all humans, uninterested in living among them.

From this base, Magneto plots to lure Angel into a trap and take him up to the asteroid to be tortured. The X-Men are able to follow Toad into a little space pod that launches them all up to the base, and thanks to a very whimsical combination of powers, the team survives back down to earth as the asteroid crashes. If I didn't know the asteroid would return to the series in some form, I'd be pissed! What a cool idea they just shot down out of the sky, mere pages after it was introduced!

This issue has a lot of highlights though. The team has to dress like normal kids as they give Jean's parents a tour of the school, and Scott accidentally enters the Danger Room and has to survive training exercises tuned to the Beast's agility. We also get to see more fights with Quicksilver, who gets to show off how Kirby drew speedster characters! I love how they leave a streak of lines behind them, and turn into a blur of straight lines themselves. It's effective at conveying their speed and is easy to draw repeatedly!

Speaking of Kirby, at this point one notices how many little gizmos the guy liked to draw. I've already pointed out the stupid planes and helicopters in these comics, but this issue has my absolute favorite so far:

But Magneto also gets this stupid headpiece that enhances his abilities. It's very amusing to see characters who don't typically use gadgets just inexplicably have some kind of contraption. To jump back to issue 3, Charles even gets basically the same kind of gadget to enhance his own powers to stop Blob! Guess these two have a bit in common, hm?

The award for most out of touch dialogue this time goes to Wanda. It's insane that she would ask this question after Magneto was straight up about to give that island the Oppenheimer special in the last issue.

The ending, however, is just hilarious. All we get is three panels to show that...surprise! Charles had his powers the whole time! He's back to normal after all, and the X-Men are strong enough without his help! I mean, sure they are, but that means that Charles just put these teenagers through more danger than was necessary just to test them. Like dude you didn't wanna step in at all even when they were falling to earth from low orbit??? Hello??? Why is he grinning???

That's it for this batch though! Next up we have some more crossovers, including our first run in with the Fantastic Four!

[yoitsjay]

Phoenix

Pairings: Keegan P. Russ x M!Reader

Summary: you had been hiding your abilities ever since your kind had been wiped out. But your team was in danger, you had to do something... at the cost of your life perhaps?

Warnings: mentions of death, COD typical violence, blood, gunshots and gun wounds, fire, revival, nudity

Word count: 3,161

You, like everyone else now, were a hybrid. There was no real or true human left in the world, not since the monsters and creatures began to mix breed with humans, and the humans of course fell in love with the idea of having a monster as a lover, who wouldn't? they were faster, stronger, more intelligent and in most cases, hotter. You were a member of the Ghosts, a renowned special forces team in the United States. You were a new member, unfortunate as that was however regardless the team accepted you as one of their own.. maybe because you were strong… or terrifying.

The Ghosts consisted of a mix of hybrids, Logan was a vampire hybrid with enhanced smell and super strength, Hesh was a werewolf hybrid with the smell, hearing, scent and vision to boot, Ajax was an avian hybrid with strong wings which matched his hair. And then there was Keegan, and keegan being the leader seemed quite powerful himself, Being a wraith he had the ability to disappear into shadows, physical shadows that could snap the neck of an enemy without much force. He was strong on top of that, with his training and his ability. Made him all the more sexy really.

And then there was you, one of the strongest hybrids in the world… a phoenix. This mythical legend is said to never die, and if it did it would simply be reborn from ash over and over again, the only thing to kill a phoenix is iron as it will burn them and kill them. Because they are so powerful they were hunted down and killed, all but you and your mother who managed to escape one fateful night… your father and brothers weren't so lucky, but you were.

The thing was, they had no idea that you were a phoenix hybrid, your mother told you to hide your abilities, lie and say you weren't a hybrid, or that you were something else completely. Now it wasn't entirely impossible to be a human in a hybrid run world, they did still exist but the few humans that were around were used as slaves for the superior like dragons, or other powerful beasts, so, human it was then.

Despite posing as a human you were still abnormally strong, and you had a faster regeneration rate than most other people in the Ghosts, but when they ask you always used the same lie, that you were tested on because you were human and it gave you regeneration, or inhuman strength when you were indeed human. Still, you were strong and funny, and if Keegan liked you then so did the rest of the ghosts. But in order to protect you and your abilities, you still had to hide it.

Currently you are sitting in a transport plane with the rest of the Ghosts, sitting across from Keegan and between Logan and Hash. They were like brothers to you, so them pushing and nudging you didn't really bug you. Ajax was seated beside Keegan and then of course there was Riley, the ever brave Ghost dog, who was laying in her own carrier, strapped down so it wouldn't move, but it was a big crate so she was comfortable. The test of the Ghosts were back on base or… dead, may they rest in peace. So it was just you and the boys listed already.

You were heading to Chile where you heard reports of some pretty bad militia reading havoc on the locals, while also wearing rumors that he was part of an Operation in Russia, a terrorist operation that you had to shut down. Little did you know how dangerous it all would be… regardless, the plane landed on a bare strip between two smaller mountain ranges, and there was already a big truck waiting for you. A driver was waiting outside with a more serious look on his face, however when he saw the Ghosts his smile grew and he waved as you and your team walked over. “Mr. Russ, Ajax, thank you and the rest of you for coming, we are in desperate need of your help now more than ever. I'll explain everything on the way but we need to get moving.” The man stated, and the Ghost piled into the car with you being right between Keegan and Logan.

See, you and Keegan had a secret you both hid from the rest of the team, a couple months ago you were in a tight situation with Keegan and it escalated… but not in a bad way. And ever since then you and him… well let's just say it developed into something that the rest of the team would tease you for. Regardless, no matter what mission you and Keegan were on it was always his personal mission to touch you and tease you in some form of way, whether it was when you were in a sniper position with him and he HAD to touch your thigh or ass, or hold your waist to keep you still. It was frustrating, yet you never stopped him before.

Keegan even had the balls to do something like that now, sneaking a hand behind you and down the back of your pants, subtly squeezing your ass which made you tense up quite a bit, though when the car suddenly hit a large bump in the road you took the opportunity to pull Keegans arm away, and instead grip onto him and Logan so you didn't fall forward since there were no seat belts. “Fuck that was a bad bump.” you played off quickly, patting Logan’s thigh which you previously had an iron grip on, shifting yourself so you were more comfortable in your seat. You pinched Keegan however, a subtle way of telling him “not here asshole” before letting him go too.

When you arrived at your destination Keegan and Ajax talked with the driver, getting more information while you, David and Logan took all your gear into the safe house where you would be staying and planning. The two brothers left their gear on the table like ruffians, however you took the time and instead moved them to a safer location so the table could be used to plan with a map amongst other things.

When Keegan and Ajax came back inside it was time to divide and conquer. Ajax stepped forward to separate the teams, however because there was an odd number between them there would either be a group of three, or two groups of two and one loner.

“Alright, Keegan and Logan and Y/n you're in a group, Hesh you're with me. Here's the plan. Keegan and his group are going to be infiltrating the West part of this compound here where we believe our target is staying. Hesh and I will take the East side. Once inside we split off and each take a section of the house, luckily enough there are five sections. Y/n you take the southwest corner, Keegan you take the northwest. Logan, you head to the center where there are some hostages being held, free them and arm them and then get their help to take over the compound. Hesh will take the southeast corner and I'll take the northeast. Clear your sections and if you find our target bring him to the center of the compound alive for questioning. If anything goes wrong, get out of the compound and meet at the rendezvous point here-”

While Ajax was explaining everything, he pointed to certain sections on the map, showing the team where they would all be going, and then again once they would split up. You felt uneasy, however. It's not that you didn't trust Ajax, or didn't believe that this plan would work, but you just had an uneasy feeling in your mind. A hum left your lips but you nodded to the plan, you wouldn't let anyone get hurt, that was a vow you silently swore to everyone.

However, now, it was time to rest as the infiltration would be tomorrow. There were not enough rooms for you individually so you split up again, however even though Keegan was offered his own room he rejected it and grabbed you to bunk with instead, bringing you to the master bedroom where he closed and locked the door once you both were inside. “God it's been weeks since we've been alone darlin I missed you.” He grumbled, dropping his bag as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you embraced him in return, pulling off your mask so he could see your face as you smiled at him. “I could say the same Keeg, but that was a risky move that you pulled back in the car.” you huffed, pulling away with furrowed eyebrows. Keegan shrugged, almost like he didn't care anymore which was probably the truth.

“Y/n I don't want to hide our relationship- whatever it is- from the boys anymore. They have almost caught us a dozen times now and I know they're starting to get suspicious. I know they won't judge, or tell anyone else… but I don't want to hide my feelings for you.” He huffed, sliding his hands down your waist. You sighed, leaning up and kissing his cheek which still had the mask covering it. You didn't bother taking it off, knowing Keegan would if he felt comfortable, but this was a new place, who knows who could be watching.

“I know Keegan… look- how about we tell them after the mission then. We have to keep everyone's heads clear for tomorrow, we wouldn't want to distract them and get them hurt.” You explained, and Keegan nodded in agreement. However before you could move away he quickly pulled you close, pulling his mask up over his nose as he leaned in and kissed you gently, smiling against your lips before pulling away shortly after.

“I'll protect you and them no matter what. You guys are my family, and you're my everything.” He spoke softly, kissing you again just once, only to pull away too soon, walking into the bathroom attached to the bedroom to shower and get ready to sleep. You rolled your eyes, having already showered before leaving so you just stripped down to the under clothes you had on, getting in bed and getting comfortable.

Tomorrow would be a wild day, you knew it.

~~~~

You were up before anyone else that following morning, now downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast for the team with whatever breakfast foods were left in the fridge for you and the boys. There wasn't much, mostly ration tubes amongst snacks and other things, but you managed to cook up a pretty decent breakfast, setting the table.

You grew up in a house of women, being the second oldest you were taught a lot of the house chores too, so doing stuff like this not only came easy to you, but it was like second nature to get it done. The Ghosts were always grateful for your help and cooking however, it just meant they didn't have to cook for themselves as long as you were around.

When everyone was awake because of the smell of food, they all wondered downstairs to the table, thanking you, finding a plate and eating almost immediately. They were like zombies or robots, awake but programmed to do straightforward things like this… you chuckled to yourself before finding a seat and eating with them. Logan was somewhat excited about the mission, and his brother shared that excitement but you still felt nervous…

After breakfast it was time to leave, the Ghosts gathered their weapons and gear, arming themselves to carry as much as they could while you attached a med pack to the back of your gear, followed by a couple of reloads for your rifle and pistols, strapping knives to your legs, hiding some in your boots, under your sleeve where an arm sheath was, and then putting a hunting knife in its designated sheath on your vest, and lastly getting your radio in place.

When all of the Ghosts were ready, you left in the same car that picked you up from your transport plane. The driver brought you close to the compound but it was still far enough where you had to walk the rest of the way. Once you were close enough on foot you split into your groups, you Keegan and Logan, and then Ajax and Hesh going the opposite way. With your weapon in hand you fell into line behind Keegan as he sprinted to the west wall, you started looking for a way in without explosives while Keegan had readied the C4… but before you could place it, you pressed in a brick and with surprise the wall in front of you shifted and opened up to reveal a dark corridor that lead into the compound.

“Lucky me.” You muttered, allowing Keegan to take the lead again as you took your position second with Logan watching your back. Successfully you managed to get into the compound, and with a whispered battle cry, you split up with your group, stealthily creeping through the south west corridor, using your knife to Stealth kill anyone you crept up on. You did have a picture of what your target looked like. Short, brown hair and green eyes with a very pale complexion, always wearing his medals whether fake or real. Very arrogant.

You continued to search your corridor clearing rooms through your radio like everyone else, however just as you cleared the last room you heard gunshots from the other side of the building, followed by shouts over the radio from Ajax. “Hash Is down! Shot to the knee he's okay but we need backup! NorthEast corridor!” Ajax called out through the radio, immediately your knife was back in its sheath and your assault rifle was in your hands and you were running down through the south hallway, killing any enemy you stumbled across before running to the North hallway where you saw Hash clutching his knee. Immediately you got down on your knees beside him, shooting a few enemy soldiers who came up from behind you before you grabbed the med pack and started patching up his knee. “It went through Hash, I can't tell if it hit a nerve or not but I'm going to stop the bleeding.” You explained, not giving him any warning as you pressed down roughly with your hands, putting pressure on both sides of the wound. Soon Logan arrived and he covered your flank, but more and more soldiers surrounded you, and your team was starting to run out of bullets. Hash had passed out from the pain but that didn't stop you from holding that pressure. “Where's keegan?” You suddenly asked Logan, realizing he wasn't there. Logans eyes went wide and he looked around in a panic. That's when you heard sounds of struggle. A grunt left your lips, and you looked at Ajax. “we've got this, go get Keegan.” You pleaded, pulling your hands away when you were sure the bleeding was stopped (while secretly using the powers you hid to heal him faster).

Once Ajax moved, you covered his position and started shooting the enemies in front of him, eventually giving him a clear way to get to Keegan. He brought the man back, and luckily Keegan was uninjured. But Keegan, Ajax and now you were out of bullets, and Logan was running out even after using Hash’ bullets. It was like they knew you were here…

Just then explosions were heard from the south west corridor, then again where Keegan was. The house shook violently, and you quickly realized they were dropping bombs. “Quick, to the middle I have an idea!” You shouted, and Logan grabbed his brother who was still unconscious. You lead everyone to the middle, surrounding yourself with furniture and crates. Everyone was in danger if you didn't do something… you had to do something…

You stood up quickly, bullets whizzing past your face bit you ignored it, stripping off your gear as you looked down at Keegan. “what are you doing Y/n get down!” He shouted, but you shook your head. “I'm doing what I should have done long ago. I'm done hiding what I am Keegan. I'm not human, I've never been human… Keegan, Ajax, Logan… I'm The Phoenix.” You stated, and with that fire erupted out of your skin, but to them it wasn't hot fire, nor did it burn them, you started transforming into a large beast, covered in fire. Your wings spread out, and you covered your team with said wings as several bombs were dropped around you. However because you had covered your team and protected them, they were unharmed. The compound had been flattened, and obviously your target escaped…

But as the dust settled and Keegan opened his eyes, he realized that… you weren't there. You had sacrificed your life and now- you were a pile of ash in the middle of the Ghosts, hot to the touch. Keegan tensed up, experiencing not only the loss of a teammate, but the loss of his lover.

Keegan screamed, throwing a piece of furniture that surrounded them away as he took a few steps forward, Logan held his brother close since he was still unconscious, and Ajax just stared at the pile of ash. But… that wasn't the end, no…

Out of the ash, a fire sparked and suddenly a smaller version of the Phoenix you had turned too had materialized out of that ash, reborn you were, and once all the ash was gone, the fire went out and there you stood… naked as a newborn babe. A nervous chuckle left your lips, and immediately Ajax looked away, as did Logan. “Keegan?” You called out…

The man turned with disbelief, running towards you and picking you up in his arms. He didn't care if they were watching, but he pulled off his mask and he kissed you, setting you down on the ground before pulling away, quickly realizing that you were in fact naked. “well look at that, naked for me darling?” He asked with a smirk, only to get slapped on the arm. However he didn't care.

You were alive and safe, and now that he and the team knew what you actually were, they vowed to keep you safe. Once you got some clothes on, you were taken home, as was Hash who needed to heal still but he'd be able to walk again, thanks to you and your abilities…

Your target got away, but Keegan would find him, he couldn't forgive what had been done to you, even if you were revived it still called for revenge… and he would get it, for you.

[cerastes]

would you consider irene the krillin of the abyssal hunters for: -human-scale power next to super soldiers -helps ground the hunters by portraying somebody who like knows Enough about what's going on to not feel like a fish out of water while still playing a key role -sees a fucked up and powerful girl and decides to risk it all against: -has not gotten a robot pregnant yet

The essence is there, but not it's not a 1:1, really. Krillin is immensely powerful for a human, but ultimately lags behind the Saiyans and Piccolo when it comes to actually handling enemies of import. Basically, Krillin's entire role after the power levels balloon out of his ballpark is being a good influence and sparring partner for Gohan (I think Krillin's role as Gohan's cool uncle is severely underrated, while I'm at it) until he's matured enough and to stall the villains by getting the shit beat out of him, buying precious time so a Saiyan or Piccolo can arrive on the scene, pop him a Senzu, and then take it from there.

Irene is a very strong fighter, and one quite easy to underestimate because, fundamentally, she's surrounded absolute beasts. In this way, yeah, she's very much a Krillin. I would also say that her style of fighting, involving accurate and crippling lunges with her rapier that incapacitate the enemy to set them up for her actual deathblow, her handcannon, can be seen as A Kienzan That Actually Lands.

Now, let's look at her RI assessment:

This is consistent with what we saw in Stultifera Navis, though I'd say that her Combat Skill should be above Excellent. I base this on the fact that Irene was fighting things that made Abyssal Hunters have to put effort into engaging, and she wasn't just surviving, she was killing a good number of them and hanging in there in what was a VERY prolonged combat situation. Now, think back on the PV for Stultifera Navis: Skadi had to two hand her greatsword in order to defend and hold against Seaborn dogs' lunges, visibly having to push back at them. Skadi is also the person that, while holding back, was sending armed combatants flying Team Rocket style in Grani and the Knights' Treasure, and who was punching tunnels through mountains RE2 Mr. X style because she couldn't be bothered actually finding her way around the caves. If Skadi has to put in some elbow grease block the attacks of these basic Seaborn enemies, they would evaporate Irene just with one clean hit on her. In Stultifera Navis, Irene did the equivalent of running a 1 credit clear of a CAVE shmup, she REALLY went in and cleared Mushihimesama, secret boss and all, while not getting hit cleanly, because if she did, that's it, she was positively out.

That's a pretty big departure from Krillin if we're going to be very particular about this. Ace detectives will notice that Irene spent a long time fighting opponents she was woefully outclassed by physically by simply being that good and nimble of a fighter, which is in stark contrast to Krillin's signature move: Absorbing every single punch, kick and ki blast with his face while buying time for Goku to arrive. If Krillin isn't beat up, gored, exploded, or ragdolled, it wasn't a Krillin a fight. Krillin is like a Gmod dummy that people like to subject to creative torture via the gravity gun and the bonkers physics of Half-Life 2. Krillin was more likely to kill Nappa or Frieza via heart palpitations from them beating his ass TOO hard rather than landing the Kienzan. Krillin's most successful technique is the Taiyoken (Solar Flare), which he used to blind countless opponents temporarily so he could take a break from getting his face pummeled into 4-dimensional shapes for a couple minutes.

They share some essence, but in the nitty gritty of it all, they are different beasts in the same family tree, if you will. Also, the powerful girl very much did take the initiative in the case of Irene. I get what you mean and I respect it but it was very much the powerful girl that picked her up and called her a fruit.

[that1nerd-20]

Since the beginning - The beast x (F) Reader

Warnings: jealousy(?) and gun shots

Word Count: 2.2k ish

Other: there might be spelling and grammar issues, also this was created a long time ago

Requested by: no one

when the curse had occurred, y/n a maid at the castle was turned into a raven for some reason. but when a young maiden arrived at the castle for her father, feelings that y/n had buried long ago resurfaced.

   Another petal fell this morning... y/n thought as she landed next to Mrs. Potts and Chip, two of the few people who knew she was a raven, the others just thought she had disappeared. "Well good morning y/n," Mrs. Potts said as she landed, y/n nodded in response, ever since the curse had happened and she turned to a raven, y/n was unable to speak without it coming out as a squawk or a caw.

   "Hi, y/n!!" Chip hopped up and down on his plate, y/n cawed in response, telling him hello. "Did you hear! Did you hear y/n? There's a man in the dungeons!"

   Y/n tilted her head, not knowing about this news. She looked to Mrs. Potts asking for confirmation, "Yes there is indeed a man in the dungeons," she nodded, she looked towards Chip then back at Y/n, "It's a shame for the man though.." Y/n looked even more confused. "I heard the master threw him in the dungeons because the man had tried to pick a rose.." y/n now understood why it was a sad day for the man.

    All the people in the castle had been cursed because their master had refused to let the old lady in, well enchantress. The only way they knew when their time would run out was the rose that the master had refused to take.

   

Time skip

    Y/n was sitting on a chair in the main entrance, pruning her feathers when all of a sudden the doors swung open, startling Y/n and sending all of her feathers to fluff up. She squawked in surprise and fell backward onto the floor. She looked to the door to see a beautiful young maiden with a stick in her hands.

    Y/n got up letting her feathers lie flat. Lumière and Cogsworth are on a desk-type thing, near where y/n had fallen. "Look cogsworth. A beautiful girl." Lumiere whispered to Cogsworth, who looked back at him.

    "I can see it's a girl. I lost my hands, not my eyes." He retorted. "But what if she is the one? The one who will break the spell?" Lumiere asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

   The girl turned towards them, "Who said that? Who's there?" She asked moving towards Lumiere and Cogsworth. All of a sudden a cough sounded throughout the hall. The girl grabbed Lumiere and ran towards the sound, y/n lifted off from the floor and flew behind the girl, down towards the dungeons.

   The girl stopped at the Iron bars of a cell. Y/n moves to the back side of the outside of the cell, to the open 'window' at the back, and lands on the edge. Seeing a man at the bars, reaching through them to the girl. "Papa!" She said.

   "Belle? How did you find me!?" The man asked. The girl, Belle set down Lumiere and grasped her father's hands. "You're hands are ice. We need to get you home." She Said worriedly.

    "Belle, you must leave at once. This castle is alive! Now go, before he finds you!" He warned her, y/n flew around to the other side again, sitting on a lamp outside of the cell. "Who?!" Her voice echoed throughout the dungeons.

    The master of the castle roared out. Belle got into a fighting stance ready to defend herself. The beast jumped from one staircase to the other as he walked through the dungeons.

    "Who's there? Who are you?" She asked, his footsteps seemed to circle her.

    "Who are you?" He answered back. "I've come for my father." She Said.

     "Your father is a thief" Y/n could tell he was mad, if what Mrs Potts had said was true, she understood why he was mad.

    "Liar!" She obviously didn't believe the beast at all.

 

    "HE STOLE A ROSE!" He yelled, y/n winced at the sudden loud noise. "I asked for the rose! Punish me not him!"

    Belle's father chimed in "No, he means forever. Apparently, that's what happens around here when you pick a flower."

    "A life sentence for a rose?" She spoke in disbelief, "I received eternal damnation for one. I'm merely locking him away... now do you still wish to take your father's place?"

    After that, Belle asked the beast to reveal himself and that is when y/n decided she should leave. She didn't want to be noticed too much.

Time skip to the dance between Belle and the Beast.

    Y/n was sitting up in the ceiling of the ballroom, watching the scene unfold. Belle had taken the beast's hands and started to dance with him. Y/n's stomach was burning with jealousy, and her heart was aching with sadness. She had loved the prince since the beginning, but to the enchantress, I guess it wasn't good enough.

    Now here was this girl falling in love with him, and him already in love... but y/n was long forgotten by the prince. She didn't understand. But she did see all the reasons why the prince loved Belle more than her.

  Time skip to the battle (again)

  Y/n couldn't do anything but watch as all her friends were fighting, she had her talons sure but she couldn't bring herself to use them against anyone, even if they were intruders.

   As the battle raged on she began to worry for the prince. She noticed someone going up the steps unnoticed, he had a gun. She followed him to see what he was doing.

    He was looking for the prince when he found him, the beast seemed unphased. "Hello, beast. I am Gaston. Belle sent me" y/n flinched at the name, she did not like Belle much, she was nice sure, but it was just out of jealousy.

    The beast had no hope left in his eyes, y/n was sitting in front of him a few feet away. He didn't seem to notice her.

    Gaston had his pistol cocked, his fingers on the trigger, and he pulled it. The beast groaned and fell over the edge. Y/n squawked, scared as he fell but she saw him latch onto the next tower and climb up. Relief washed over her body.

    She looked back to Gaston and saw him go to reach for an arrow for his crossbow, but there wasn't anything there, he spun around to see Belle "Belle?" He said she looked pissed "Where is he?!" Belle snaps the arrows over her knees.

    Gaston grabbed her arm "When we return to the village, you will marry me, and the beast's head will hang on our wall!" He said forcefully, "Never!".

  Time skip to the last shot firing from Gaston before he falls.

   "NO!!" Gaston fires one last time before the bridge underneath him collapses, letting him fall to his death. The beast collapses on the floor with Belle hovering over him. Y/n lands next to them, wings drooping slightly seeing him die.

    Neither of them notices her, nor the enchantress as she entered the crumbling room, right before the beast takes his last few breaths, y/n climbs on top of his chest, and Belle and the beast are confused. Y/n flaps her wings so she's hovering above the beast as he's dying.

   She starts squawking at Belle trying to get her away from the prince, as the beast takes his final breath Belle has had enough of the bird in front of her and swings her arm at the bird, knocking y/n down onto the floor.

    As the hit was too hard for y/n she lies on the floor wings spread out, as she looks to the beast with glossy eyes, who had watched her fall to the ground but was too weak to even say anything.

    The beast takes his last breath as Belle cries out, telling him she loves him. Y/n takes a last breath before saying her final words before falling unconscious, "I've loved you since the beginning" and then only then after the enchantress hears those words. She revokes the curse and slowly starts turning everyone back to normal, starting with the beast.

   After everyone was back to normal, and the beast was talking to Belle about how he loves her, both Belle and the prince see something in the corner of their eye. They both look to see the bird from before glowing. Belle knows what's happening because the same thing happened to the prince when he was turning back.

    She gasped knowing that she had hit a person. The bird lifted off into the air, limp wings, talons, and neck. Her body starts to transform back into her normal body. She's set back on the ground sitting upright.

    Y/n looks around, she looks at her hands, then at her feet. "I'm human..?" She touches her face "My beak is gone..." she touches her hair "I have no more feathers..!" She stands up "im human again!!" She yells she doesn't notice the two behind her, and she runs down the stairs "Mrs.Potts!!!" She keeps yelling for the woman as she runs out of the doors to the castle.

   

    The woman looks up and sees y/n running towards her holding her dress so she doesn't trip. Mrs. Potts gets up off the ground along with Chip, she runs towards y/n and hugs her. Chip runs up and hugs both the women's legs.

    The two girls break the hug and Y/n picks up Chip hugging him properly "Y/n you're back to normal!" He exclaims hugging the girl back, "I know! I know! And so are you!" She sets him down and everyone looks at her in disbelief. "Y/n is that really you?" Plumette asks, y/n nods and everyone cheers knowing that she is back with them.

   The prince and Belle come out but they don't notice the two yet "Where were you all this time?" Lumière asks, she looks to him. "I've been the raven that you've all seen occasionally.." everyone looks relieved that she was safe all this time.

     "I can tell you love her.." Belle says to the prince, while everyone is asking y/n questions and reuniting with the people from the village. He looks at her a bit red "What..?" She shakes her head and smiles softly, "I can see the way you look at her. You say you love me but, the emotions in your eyes when you look at me and when you look at her are completely different."

     "You loved her before you loved me.." she says before walking off. Plumette notices the prince but doesn't see Belle anywhere. She nudges Lumière and points to the prince. "My prince!" Everyone including y/n looks at the prince, and everyone smiles but the tears start to well up in y/ns eyes as she remembers that the prince loves Belle and she loves him. She walks away, and towards the stables where her horse once was.

    The only person who notices her leaving is the prince, he slips away and follows her, to find her hand on one of the pillars and staring into the stall. The smell of the horses that were once here stale in her nose. He comes up next to her. "So...you were the raven that was always following me.." her gaze doesn't falter. "Yes I was sir" he hated how her voice was so dull.

    "Y/n look at me.." she turned her head to look at him but ended up colliding with his lips, her eyes went wide, but his hands went to her hips and pulled her closer, but she didn't dare pull away, she just melted into the kiss.

  Time skip to "Belle" and the beasts wedding

     The wedding was beautiful and y/n and Belle were talking. They had become great friends after the fact. The prince came up behind y/n and asked her to dance.

She said yes and so he took her out onto the dance floor. Garderobe was singing tale as old as time as they danced. Y/n was looking at him as they danced. "What?" He asks smiling, "How would you feel about growing a beard?" He growls playfully and they both smile.

I hoped you guys enjoyed reading this. I've had this idea stuck in my head a while so I decided I was like ya know what, let's start a Wattpad book and this can be the first story, again thank you so much! Have a good day or night!

EJ

[gungoo4lifer]

ty for reminding me to post this on tumblr cuz i forgot

I love you, more than him, more than anyone else.

''Gun.. Why are we here at this late at night? Is.. everything okay?'' Mr beast asks, a red tint spreading across both of his cheeks because of how cold it was but this psycho Gun wanted him to go out at this ass freezing night for some odd reason which he isnt aware of.

''Mr Beast..'' Gun coos, taking a step closer to Mr Beast and cupping his cheeks in his big strong hands, gazing at Mr Beast, who was wide eyed and cheeks redder than earlier, not knowing what Gun was up to. ''I.. i love you..'' Mr beast's eyes widens even more, can't believing what he was just hearing, a shocked ''H-huh?'' Is all he could manage to get out of his tongue as Gun gazes down at him with his daddy eyes. ''Mr Beast.. i just confessed my feelings to you, kitten.. is this all you're going to say?'' ''N-no, d-daddy.. its just.. you're together with Goo! It.. it feels wrong..''

''Shh.. stay silent, kitten..'' Gun whispers, leaning in closer and pressing his lips against Mr Beast's.

''Its just you and me against the world, my lovely kitten...''

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 7

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Angst, Predator/Prey

TW: Trauma, Implied Sexual Harassment, Implied Sexual Assault, Guns, Mentions of Violence

Chapter Summary: The trees have fully shed their leaves, a sign to a new season and with that, he gives in to one of your little favors, no matter how peculiar the reasons behind them.

Author's Note: Life has been long! Finally got new batteries for my pen so I am off to drawing a fanart for this on top of the drawings I actually need to do. Enjoy the chapter!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

7: My Dearest, Troubled

The tree in front of your shop has lost most of its leaves, a herald to autumn finally coming to an end and a new season arriving.

“Close the shop?”, you asked, confused while you watch your father put on his coat.

“Take it slow for today, twig,” your father smiled, giving himself a once over. The last train station to the city from N109 zone this morning would leave in an hour and he has to catch it to go to the hospital. “You had a long day yesterday.”

“But why?”

“You’re already ahead of schedule. You might crash out if you do too much.”

“Alright but just today though. Mister Sewing Machine wouldn’t like it if I am gone too long.”

“Mister Sewing Machine will understand, twig,” your father replied, amused at how you treat every item inside your studio as if it is a living thing but it makes sense, he did raise you to look after and take good care of the objects that ensure your livelihood.

“Daisy and I will hold the fort then!”, you answered cheerfully and your crow friend also let out a beep.

Your father smiled at you and briefly glanced at the crow who always used your antlers at a perch. Most of Sylus’ business associates had expressed unease towards this odd friend of yours who always quietly assesses them every time they converse with you in your studio.

Every word this mechanical crow hears will also reach Sylus’ ears.

He wouldn’t deny that he used to be also uncomfortable under its observant gaze.

Yet, with time comes familiarity and your father admitted to himself last night that Sylus proved to be a gentleman around you, completely different to how the people around him paint him to be, especially when he watched the dragon hybrid carry you upstairs as if you are the most fragile treasure he ever held.

That dragon isn’t as bad as people claimed and you were the first person to see past rumors and his rough exterior. 

Your father, the first person you managed to convince.

Still, he still can’t help but worry about this recent development. He is sure word has spread fast after hearing from neighbors that Sylus had taken a time-off yesterday just for you.

Which is in fact, a very, very rare occurrence.

“Twig, one last thing,” he said slowly, and he looked at your crow friend then back at you, holding both of your arms gently, “Just in case. I put Mister Louis’-”, he took a deep breath then continued, “- gift at the first drawer of the front desk.”

With Sylus’ watchful eyes, your father knows that no one would dare try to come near you with any malicious intent and he doesn’t doubt that the dragon hybrid would be here before anything bad happens.

But it will only just take a few seconds before something irreversible happens.

You looked down on your shoes and he grimaced. He knows you tend to be very touchy at the subject, initially very apprehensive on the thought behind the present and the implication of the words that the young deer hybrid left. 

Louis, despite his wealthy upbringing, tends to be too straightforward, too protective of the other prey hybrids that settled in this area and your father knows Louis left the same gift to other households.

“Skye isn’t a bad person-”

“I know he isn’t. I have complete faith in him.”

“Then why do we still keep it?”

“I have no doubts about your favorite visitor, twig,” he insisted gently, hoping to correct the assumptions already forming in your head, “But he is a very influential man.”

And many people would do anything to snatch the crown from its bearer.

The gaze of your crow friend is heavy but your father maintained his eyes towards you until you nodded slowly, “Okay, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Your father let out a  sigh of relief, letting go of you, then patting your shoulder.

“I’ll catch the first train on the way back then we will have dinner together, is that good?”

“Alright, can you bring me something from the bakery when you get back?”

“Your favorite?”

You nodded and your father ruffled your hair before stepping out, making sure the sign says ‘Closed’.

It is not the first time your father left you by your lonesome here in the shop and usually, sewing keeps you preoccupied that you don’t even notice he is gone but his simple request of taking a break is quite foreign.

“What do you do when you are taking breaks, Daisy?”, you asked your crow friend who is busy preening the braid on the side of your face.

Mephisto tilted its head and if you can understand it, it is telling you right now that visiting you is break time, a privilege it takes advantage of too often.

“Organize your treasures?”

That is usually scheduled at the end of the month so again, it shakes its head.

“Catch up with your crow friends?”

Mephisto decided to not do that for now, especially when the largest crow in the group tried to pull the ribbon you made for it off its neck.

“Do you clean your nest?” 

It knows it has to give you an answer because you will keep asking, not that it minds.

So, Mephisto nods.

“Really now? I do enjoy looking after the house as well,” you smiled, folding your sleeves until your shoulders and putting your hair up. “Where should we start?”

You follow Mephisto, carrying a broom and laughing gently when it leads you to your studio, perching at the handle while it waits for you to give your verdict on its choice.

“Am I that messy, Daisy?”

It lets out a beep, which you took as a yes, and then opened the door.

“You are a very honest crow,” you chuckled and Mephisto wagged its tail.

It doesn’t think you are messy, no, not at all. It is because out of all the rooms inside your shop, this is where you and it spends time the most.

It only makes sense that you both start cleaning its nest first.

────────────────────

Sylus woke up earlier than expected, mostly because he is looking forward to checking if you managed to pick up the hint he left last night.

The chimes at the entrance of your shop announced his entry and while he didn’t expect you to come and greet him, he certainly did not expect your studio to be empty.

Boxes are scattered around, clearly a sign you are in the middle of organizing fabrics and sewing materials. Spools of threads in the middle of being shifted and arranged from darkest to lightest, assortment of buttons that got lost are reunited one by one to their siblings. 

It was clear you are doing a quick sweep, a break, he assumed, but where are you?

“Sweetie?”, he called out.

There was no response except for a chirp.

It was Mephisto, diligently lifting blankets that covered the mannequins one by one as if looking for someone.

Or, looking for you.

It only took him moments to realize that in the middle of cleaning up, you and Mephisto had your attention diverted and now playing a game of hide and seek.

What even made it more amusing is you don’t know there is a new player joining in. For now.

“Where is she?”, he asked, watching as Mephisto perched on his shoulder and tilted its head, as if repeating the same question he asked albeit sarcastically.

If crows can shrug, Mephisto certainly did but it knows you haven’t stepped outside the shop, a rule both of you set before starting the game.

“Electric wires that connect the shop to the grid are not a hiding place!”, you quickly added earlier before running away when Mephisto started chirping with pause in between, a countdown.

Sylus rolled his eyes. Of course, he can immediately find where you are. He just had to shift through the scents, old and new, that lingered on your shop and follow it but where is the fun in that?

“No hints?”

Mephisto shook its head.

Sylus heard a giggle from behind him, the scent of cotton and wildflowers that is unmistakably yours hung briefly in the air but then faded away together with your soft footsteps padding further from him.

You already know he is here through the gap of the half-opened studio door.

Smart girl.

The familiar click of the heels of your shoes are gone, clearly having taken them off and carried them to not make a noise.

“Now, miss seamstress, is this how you welcome a new player in your game?”, he called out, making sure his voice was carried from your studio to every room of your house until to the very corners and crevices you may have thought were safe hiding spots.

Of course, Sylus did not expect you to reply but he took his time, walking casually and aimlessly at items that decorated your home, making sure his footsteps are loud.

Each step calculated, a movement under the pretense he is exploring rather than actively searching for you. He doesn’t have to close his eyes to know you clearly climbed up the stairs, hearing you gasp softly when you accidentally stepped on the fifth step that always creaked.

“I am starting to think you don’t actually want me to find you, sweetheart.”

Every living thing emits a certain scent when being hunted down and prey hybrids have the most potent ones but there is not even a trace of it in you.

In fact, Sylus can only pick up excitement.

Anticipation.

You are clearly happy he still came over to visit you even when you and him had spent the entire day together yesterday.

You can’t help but smile when you peeked from the second floor and saw the tip of Skye’s tail passing by. Daisy glanced up but you put a finger on your lips, a gesture that it is you and your crow friend against the dragon hybrid.

Will Mephisto choose you over Sylus any day? An absurd question.

It decided to buy more time for you, flying towards the receiving area, pretending to check if you were under the front desk.

“You’re a little traitor, do you know that?”, Sylus chuckled, crossing his arms while Mephisto feigned indifference.

The bird is clearly siding with you, he already knows when Mephisto’s gaze lingered on the top of the steps for a second too long.

One of the doors upstairs bang loudly followed by another carefully opened, a clear misdirection.

Daisy can only buy you a little time and you know Skye is bound to find you soon.

Predator hybrids have outstanding senses, that’s what you were told by others. They can hear the beating of your heart. They do not need your name, your scent alone is already a unique identifier.

You haven’t really asked Skye how true it is, if you already lost the game the moment he stepped inside your home but you don’t care much how different you both are, if he already had the edge between the two of you.

In this little corner of the N109 zone, all the rules your kind had imposed upon you are forgotten.

You held your knees close to your chest inside the floor of the cabinet, your ears twitching and listening to his footsteps. The fifth stepped creak and and his silhouette passed by briefly  to your room only for it to return immediately after checking your father’s room.

“I know you’re in there, sweetheart.”

You put your hands on your mouth, stifling your giggles.

“I’ll give you a headstart to change your hiding spot before I come in, darling deer.”

There was no sound, no movement. You stayed where you are and if that’s your decision, then Sylus would take it.

Every person in every room Sylus steps inside would immediately avert their eyes to avoid his gaze but there will always be a handful who will lock eyes with him with subtle defiance and Sylus would always pick up the scent of fear, even the slightest ounce.

Narrow it down further and among the handful, there is only person that will meet his eyes, a vast ocean he will always come back to.

And that person is-

“Found you.”

The cabinet door opened, and there you were, hugging your knees and a shy smile on your lips as you looked up at him.

“Hello, Skye.”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He crouched down to your height, slowly reaching out to you to play with the small braid on the side of your face and his eyes flickered on one of your antlers.

Tied around it is the red good luck ribbon he had left last night.

You leaned towards his hand, smiling.

“How did you find me, Mister Dragon?”

“I’ll always find you, Miss Deer.”

────────────────────

At first, you find Mister Louis quite rude.

You don’t have to open his gift to know what is inside. Everyone who enters your studio just to watch you always carries one of various sizes.

They usually keep it hidden behind their coats while others carry suspiciously long boxes, the wooden floor creaking every time they put it down on their feet before looking around your studio, making conversation with you.

Cold. Heavy. Powerful.

You only get to hold one when the twins come over, Luke carrying a rifle and Kieran, its case. They let you take a peek at the scope once when they saw two rival groups about to tear each other’s throats just past the boundaries set by the boss himself to all the denizens of the N109 zone.

“Have you ever held one before, Miss Deer?”

Kieran asked you before, noticing your fascination when they let you examine the rifle, making sure the safety is on.

You shook your head, focused on the little fight that was about to unfold between Mister Louis’ pride of lion hybrids and a pack of wolf hybrids.

The two chuckled, their tails wagging.

“I don’t think the miss needs to. She already has us and the boss looking after her.”

They never referred to Skye using his real name.

They always call him ‘boss’.

The distant gunshots rattled the utensils you have brought with your favorite visitor upstairs in the small rooftop garden you keep, the tea making small waves against the walls of your porcelain cups.

“It looks like the neighbors are being rowdy today, Skye,” you chuckled softly but Sylus did not miss the slight tremble when you took a piece of your favorite cake.

The entirety of N109 zone isn’t paradise, that Sylus knows.

Yet, he is very specific to everyone living here to not even dare cause not even a single ruckus within 500 meters of your shop.

“They just don’t know how to behave, do they?”, he mused, adding more strawberry macarons on your plate.

Your eyes fell on his hands. It was clear that he is familiar with defending himself using his fists. His hands were rough, the skin on his knuckles stretched tight against the bone.

As always, he checks the cut on your finger and your eyes trace the calluses on his palm and the finger he uses to pull the trigger.

With his pointed horns, a powerful tail, and senses so sharp, he doesn’t have to worry much about anyone hurting him.

“I have a request,” you started slowly, your eyes watching the last leaf of the tree land on your tea, floating quietly.

You have always welcomed each season with open arms but the end of autumn means it will only be weeks until you say goodbye to your antlers.

With them gone comes the feeling of defenselessness, of terror, and each distant gunshot reminds you that your kind-

-Really is pitiful.

“What is it that my sweetheart wishes for?”

“You can turn me down, alright?”

“Let me hear you out first, miss seamstress, then I’ll make the call.”

“I want to learn how to shoot,” you replied, and you immediately averted your gaze, looking down at your lap.

You know he uses one but he always keeps it on his back, covered by the coat he hangs on his shoulder but you always spot it when he shifts closer to you to study your work.

Sylus was expecting you to bring up your many plans of tying bows on his horns and tails but certainly not this. He had always told himself you don’t need to wield a weapon. Not because he thinks you are completely fragile but because holding one means you are pointing it to another person.

Your hands, they weren’t made to destroy.

They were meant to create.

“That’s not a small request, little doe, are you sure?”

“If it is fine with you?”

“Why do you want to learn, sweetie?”

“I am going to lose my antlers soon,” you admitted sadly, your ears drooping and Sylus’ gaze softened when he realized the cause of your anxiety.

The red ribbon tied on your antler sway gently against the autumn breeze together with the good luck ribbon on his horn.

It is hard to say no when his favorite deer is looking at him as if he ate her last macaron.

Sylus already knows he is a goner.

Still, he relished that you chose to ask him this favor over Luke and Kieran and he chuckled, his resolve gone.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, do you know that, sweetie?”

You know Skye’s services do not come cheap. He already did so much for you, carrying favors and messages so it is only fair you compensate him just as before when he helped you.

“Here,” you said, tapping your right cheek, “My downpayment.”

“You’re quite a charmer, aren’t you, little doe,” he whispered, reaching out to lean closer to you then pressed his lips on your cheek.

If Sylus has it his way, he would be demanding more, to shower you kisses. Will you be blushing madly when he does? Or will you just laugh and tell him he missed a spot?

As much as he wants his answers to those questions that come while he waits for sleep to come, he will take what he can have right now as long as it is from you.

“Downpayment received,” he murmured softly in your ear and you caught the red tints of his ears.

Among the quiet rustling of the dried leaves on the floor of your garden and the sounds of ceramic pots and bottles being lined up, he can only hope that his wishes carried by the autumn breeze will be heard.

────────────────────

Daisy gave you another reassuring nuzzle on your cheek, sensing your frustration and embarrassment.

Sylus knows you are clearly upset and he knows exactly why.

Thirty bullets in and your chances of hitting a target should be at least greater than before but every time you pull a trigger, it is as if the bullet ricochets itself and hits the wall.

Is this the universe's way of telling him that his precious deer shouldn’t wield a firearm? He is starting to think it is.

“Skye, they kept missing,” you sighed, your ears drooping, and he had to stifle a chuckle because even with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you just look so adorable.

“Sweetie, it takes time handling a firearm,” he began, stepping closer with his thumb wiping a tear on the corner of your eye, “Just like when you were learning how to use your sewing needles.”

“Did it also take you years to learn how to use them?”

“Not years but it took practice and patience.”

“Don’t rush it, sweetie,” he murmured against your ear, standing behind you, his chest brushing against your back, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

One.

An erratic heartbeat.

It isn’t the quiet and steady rhythm you have. A tune trying to sync itself against the conductor’s lead but ahead by one note.

“Breathe for me,” he said quietly and your ears brushed his cheek, flicking. Your shoulders relaxed against him followed by a sharp intake of breath, an attempt to match the cadence of his heart.

Two.

Trembling hands.

The gun, a foreign object, your body’s natural reaction to push it away from you but your determination supersedes, holding on.

“Eyes forward,” Sylus continued, his warm breath fanning against your neck, soft but firm. His other hand moved from your waist to grip your wrist, a stable guide. 

Three.

Shaky aim.

Every time you pull the trigger, the close sounds of the gun unloading startles you. The sound, much different, compared to the distant firing of the rowdy citizens of the N109 zone. Your deer instinct takes precedence over everything, telling you to flee.

“Ignore everything else.”

His hand holding your wrist rested on top of yours, his finger on the trigger with you. His voice a low, soothing rumble as he rested his chin against your shoulder.

You are as much a human as you are a deer.

The last bullet inside the firearm discharged, the golden casing shining against the afternoon sun until it finally met its target, the pieces of the old ceramic pot shattering.

Sylus was watching you closely, your stunned expression of finally hitting one of the targets both of you set up slowly replaced by a wide smile, relief and triumph.

Victory . 

A small one but a victory nonetheless.

“That’s my girl,” he praised you, his hands moving around your waist to pull you closer against his chest.

“Did you see that, Skye?”, you asked, looking up at him, your nose brushing against his in the process.

“I did, sweetheart, I did.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“And I have a willing student.”

“I supposed I should pay you in full now for the lesson,” you smiled, then pointing at your right cheek, “Here.”

Sylus is sure the twins and even Mephisto had a hand at this. The three of them most likely made you assume that little favors are to be paid by hugs and kisses, always seeking affection from you just like he does.

Unbelievable but it worked.

He chuckled softly, his lips hovering just above your skin before he planted a lingering kiss on the spot you pointed.

“Payment accepted, sweetie.”

Sylus had already given himself the role to be your protector and he knows what it takes to be one.

To you, he is your dragon, always yearning for your touch, content.

To others, he is the big, bad and will always be bad dragon and if he has to take, bite, and claw at every single being that is a threat to your small forest, then so be it.

────────────────────

Evening comes by too fast, the breeze entering the open windows of your shop becoming colder and stronger and you know it is time for your favorite visitor to go when he glances at his watch and lets out a heavy sigh.

The passage of time always picks up speed every time he is here and his shoulder slumps just slightly when he sets one of the boxes he is helping you move on one of the tables.

“Duty calls?”, you asked, his frown turning to a smile when you peek to check on him.

He nodded, “It’s time for me to go.”

You observed him thoughtfully, studying him and your eyes lingered on his watch, a new one, clearly expensive. He always wears a different one every time he comes over.

There is a question that you put at the back of your head when morning came where you were met with an unexpected surprise after you removed the wreath that Skye made for you.

“What is it like to be Mr. Sylus’ bodyguard?”, you asked, accompanying him to the door of your shop.

“It’s a demanding job but it pays well.”

“Does it also include making sure that not a lot of people know what Mr. Sylus looks like?”

“That’s one of the job requirements, sweetie.”

“If I tell you I now know what he looks like, what would you do?”, you asked, tilting your head with a knowing smile.

Who would have thought a little hint is all you need to piece together who is the man in front of you?

This is the face of someone close to solving a puzzle, a breakthrough. You have a question in your mind slowly taking shape.

All Sylus needs now is for the words to come from your lips.

A confirmation and there is only one correct answer.

“That depends, sweetie. Prove it to me and I’ll take you to him,” he replied playfully.

“You will?”, you asked, wagging your tail, “Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed, and his tail flicked in excitement, “We’ll go straight to the base if you give me the right answer.”

You paused for a moment, your eyes looking at your shoes and the dusty clothes you are wearing then you chuckled softly, “Tomorrow. I want to look my best when we meet Mr. Sylus.”

You want to doll up for him.

You want to be presentable.

He wanted to tell you that you don’t need to, that all he needs is for you to call him by his real name.

“You already look cute just the way you are, if you ask me,” he said, pinching your cheek one last time before opening the door and he was about to step out when you reached out to hold the end of his coat hanging on his shoulders.

“Miss me already, sweetie? Don’t we have an appointment set tomorrow?”

“You forgot something.”

“Did I?”, Sylus answered, a slow smile spreading on his face while he pretended to pat his pockets and scan his clothes, “I supposed I did.”

Late autumn. 

His car parked just outside your shop at the front in this corner of the N109 zone while the lone tree standing tall near the curb had finally completely shed its leaves. Your wool cardigan rustles gently, the wooden floor creaking when you stand on your tiptoes.

This time, your lips finally hit the mark, right on his cheek. 

A small noise, he doesn’t know if it is his, yours, or maybe both but it is clear that it is for your ears and his only, an intangible treasure, a song that will always play in repeat, forever sought.

Small memories, so small, but even then, all the precious gems are.

After he waved goodbye, Sylus had tucked the stray leaf on the dashboard of his car that day.

Tomorrow can’t come any sooner.

────────────────────

A classical tune filled the room, the papers and record books shuffling while you pile them up together for your father who is running late.

Your eyes occasionally land on the door, hoping you will see the familiar antlers and the package from your favorite bakery that makes the best strawberry shortcake, a little treat he promised from earlier and also, most likely to make up with you..

The chimes rang.

“Welcome home-”

“I always loved those antlers of yours, branches.”

Every part of your body froze, and your wool cardigan suddenly was not enough to keep you warm.

How long was it when you heard that voice? Your mind was close to putting a number to the distance you and your father had put between that voice but before you could even come up with an answer, you stopped.

Every cell that makes you up refuses to acknowledge his presence, no, his existence .

There is no person in front of you, the chimes did not announce a visitor. Maybe it did not ring at all and it is just you and Daisy in this shop, waiting for your father’s return.

But there is.

He is a human, that one you are sure. 

No tail.

No horns.

Normal ears. 

His voice?

A broken record, too many scratches but it still plays a distorted song, the lyrics a horrid amalgamation of disjointed tracks.

His face? 

A mess of black threads all tied against each other, there is no way to tell where it began and it started. It is as if they have been there ever since and will always be there.

“Who would have thought that the deer Sylus is keeping for himself is you? I have been looking for you everywhere.”

One.

Two.

Three. 

Three strides. It also takes him the same number of steps from the store front of your old shop to stand beside you in the front desk when you used to be the one greeting customers.

You keep your eyes on your shoes, your hands behind your back and even when you try to move at least an inch, your body refuses.

Deers must stay still under the gaze of a predator.

An actual predator.

Humans. 

Predator hybrids. 

Prey hybrids.

Put all three of it in a diagram and you will find that you are as much as capable of harming each other.

The only question is- Will you?

Can you?

“It looks like he knows how to look after livestock,” the human continued, and your lips trembled when his breath was a little closer to your neck.

His name? What was his name?

Your mind refuses to cooperate. Do not put a name on this tangled mess of black threads that he calls a face.

Names only make them more real.

How does it even speak? No, there is certainly a face underneath it but if you even try to pull a loose thread, it will only just unravel itself further.

You might get caught in it too if you do.

“Lost your voice? But you were just talking to Sylus earlier,” he prodded further and your gaze moved from your feet to the drawer of the front desk. “Gave him a kiss too.”

Breathe for me.

Skye’s words echoed and his voice, always so gentle, is now distant.

“Too bad your little league isn’t here anymore,” the human continued then he gazed at the crow.

He clearly recognized this one. Its appearance is the reason why Sylus suddenly left a very important negotiation back then and who would have known, that beast really does keep an eye over you.

Oh, you aren’t Sylus’ emergency ration. 

Not a feast either. 

You are so much more to that dragon, alright.

Sylus is going to regret crossing a human.

────────────────────

“Hey boss, the packages have arrived.”

The twins weave their way towards him through the maze of boxes and crates scattered inside the main hallway of the base and more are waiting to be brought in outside the double doors of his home.

Weapons.

Experimental drugs.

Documents.

The whole nine yards, waiting to be opened by him one by one and all of it will fetch a hefty sum as long as it is sold to the most eager buyer.

Who would have known he will be doing a similar clean-up here at the base as well?

“Let’s get started. Time is money.”

It was the usual routine, Luke will hand him a package to open while Kieran continues to put everything inside.

The blade cuts across the tape holding the flaps and each item inside promising.

Sylus always notes the senders, these are from business associates after all. How the product performs is a test, an evaluation to know if the venture is a worthy pursuit or not.

“Say, boss, I thought you had that group blacklisted,” Kieran said slowly, approaching his desk and carrying a box.

A cardboard box. 

No sender details.

Yet, it was faint, very faint, but Sylus knows why Kieran asked.

The box holds a faint stench of the black market that deals with prey hybrid meat.

“I did,” he frowned. He was clear to those sick bastards he had no intentions of dealing with their wares, “Open it.”

“I wonder if they are sending those vials again. That was creepy,” Luke said, standing closer to Kieran while he watched his brother rip the old parchment paper wrapping the box.

“Or those horns. That was nasty.”

“Or a bomb.”

“What? Nah, this box has been sitting outside for a while.”

“Let’s get this over,” Sylus said, sighing heavily, already thinking how he would dispose of these ‘samples’ as those people called it.

Sylus has always been decisive when giving orders and every decision comes with consequences, both good and bad.

Yet, there are many times that the universe is quick to remind him that he isn’t invincible as he thinks he is even if it gifted him the prowess to assert his claim against those who stand his way.

And right now, the universe is pointing at a chink on his scales.

Pictures.

The box is full of photos of you, all circled with a red marker. 

His eyes traced the antlers decorated with threads, then at the crown of flowers and finally-

-At the glassy eyes of a taxidermized head of a deer resting on the white linen holding a note in its mouth.

And it says-

“Boss?”, Luke said slowly.

“Boss, what does it say?”, Kieran asked, the usual calmness in his voice slowly overcome by nervousness.

Pretty little deer.

Sylus had never been much dependent on fate. Every action is calculated, all variables considered and every odds must be in his favor.

But tonight, when he and the twins raced back to your shop, never he expected the day would come his car would roar on the highway as he stepped on the accelerator.

Let this be a sick prank.

Let this be an empty threat.

Let this be a cruel joke.

.

.

.

God, please.

────────────────────

Author's Note:

Do you know that part in the rollercoaster before you plunge at the speed of 80kph or more? Yeah, this chapter is that chapter. See you next Thursday!

My inbox is open~ (If you wanted to be mutuals, I will be happy!) I am still navigating how fandom etiquette is since it is my first time being active in one here in Tumblr.

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[late-to-the-party-81]

Apparently words can hurt me

AN: I’m back again, filling multiple challenge squares in one fic, and indulging my love of pre-serum Stucky. This fic is for the following fills;

Into the Juniverse - Squares C1,3 and 4 - Modern, Bookstore, Medical - @buckybarnesevents 

The Slumber party, May challenge - “Who did this to you?” @the-slumberparty

BBB Y1 - Sticks and stones @buckybarnesbingo 

Beta’d by @sparkagrace 

Mood board by me, dividers by @firefly-graphics 

Master list

Relationship: ER Doctor Steve Rogers x Bookstore Owner Bucky Barnes

Word count: 2.8k

CW: Fluff, minor angst, suggested Smut, implied bottom Bucky, pre-serum Stucky, alcohol consumption, fast burn, strangers to lovers to friends, meet cute/meet ugly, Special guest star Alpine, Nat and Sam are a good bros (even if they give their friends shit), alternating pov, Human disaster Bucky Barnes, implied age gap (Bucky late 20’s, Steve, mid 30’s)

“So, Steve - how’s your first day going?”

Steve turned, hanging his stethoscope around his neck, and smiled up at his friend and colleague, Sam. He clasped hands with the man he’d known since medical school and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Not that he really could have stopped it - Sam was over half a foot taller than him, and was obviously a big fan of both arms day and legs day. The man’s muscles had muscles, and Steve, well, didn’t really. He’d tried building muscle in the past but his metabolism was so ridiculously fast that he’d almost bankrupted himself trying to up his protein intake.

“It’s going great, man. It’s good to be back on the East Coast, even if it does seem to be a lot wetter.”

“I think trading sunshine for working with a friend is still a definite upside.” Sam’s sunny mood never failed to make Steve smile. “You were wasted in L.A.”

Steve nodded, thinking back to the circumstances that had led to him packing up and moving to the other side of the country after he’d qualified, and then the circumstances that had led to him returning and taking up residence at King's County. It had been a while since he’d worked in an ER, but it was like falling off a bike. Or rather patching up someone who’d fallen off a bike.

“Well, I’d best get back to it - I’ve got a suspected fracture of the tibia in bay three.”

“Drinks - tonight - seven - Gallis. Don’t be late, Rogers.” Steve chuckled as Sam shot him finger guns, before heading back down the corridor to Obstetrics.

He’d missed Sam. He’d missed New York. Most of all, he’d missed himself - missed what he’d hidden of himself while he’d been away. He was back now, though and ready to get on with the rest of his life. He strode towards Bay Three and picked up the chart attached to the bed. He sat down next to the forlorn looking teenager who was probably the same height as him.

“Now, Mr Parker. How did you manage this?

“Nat! Naaaaaat!” Bucky called out to his best friend-slash-co-owner, desperately trying to keep the large stack of books balanced in his arms. Something bumped his ankles and he peered down. “No. Not you, Alpine. You don’t have opposable thumbs.” The white ball of fluff just continued to purr and rub against her human’s legs. Bucky tried to nudge his baby away, but the change in balance caused the top book to slide, bumping against Bucky’s cheekbone.

“Nat! Help!”

“What’s up, Buckminsterfullerene?”

Nat appeared as if by magic, riding the roll-along ladder like Belle from Beauty and the Beast. If Bucky could have pinched the bridge of his nose he would have. Instead he just settled for a sigh.

“You know completely what’s up, and you’re just waiting for the right moment to say ‘I told you so’. I’ve overestimated how many books I can put away at once, again. Now will you please help me?”

She jumped down, her red hair swinging around her shoulders.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll take you for drinks at Gallis once we’ve closed up? We can people-watch, maybe find a couple of guys to flirt with and buy us more drinks?”

Nat stepped forward and took a handful of books off the top of the stack, holding them in one arm and started to put them away. She pursed her lips as if she was trying to decide, but Bucky knew she wouldn’t be able to resist that offer - it was their favourite Friday evening activity, which said a lot about their respective love lives.

“You’re on, Barnes, but tell me you got something cute upstairs in your wardrobe that I can borrow.”

“Nat, you know full well that half your wardrobe is upstairs, pushing mine out. You’re here that often.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark. And anyway, it gives you more options.”

Bucky huffed, and blew a lock out of his brown hair out of his eyes, before realising that the stack of books left in his arms was now actually manageable and could be put away.

“I might be slim, but I’m not that slim.”

“Betcha $10 that I can make an outfit out of my stuff for you to wear this evening.”

Nat smiled at him, eyes twinkling and he grinned back.

“You’re on, Romanoff!”

“So you’re telling me that your patient really thought he could scale down from a second storey window?” Sam’s expression was a mixture of amusement and disbelief. Steve grabbed an olive from the bowl in front of them, threw it up and caught it in his mouth.

“Yup. Kid thought that if he covered his hands and feet in some kind of sticky resin he could go up and down the wall like a spider. No lie. Not even drunk. Just a clever kid with too much time on his hands and not enough common sense.”

Sam laughed, and wiped a tear of mirth from his eye.

“God, man. I’m glad I’ve left general medicine behind.”

“Yeah, now you just have to deal with a load of…”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it. That joke gets old, real fast. So, other than an idiotic teenager, you enjoying being back? Ready to put yourself out there?”

Steve took a swig from his beer, more to give him a second’s space than the need to actually slake his thirst. Sam looked at him expectantly, and Steve knew he wasn’t going to get out of answering.

“Yes to the first and maybe to the second.”

Sam raised his eyebrow.

“Maybe? Come-on, dude. It’s been like, what, four… five months since you broke up. I’m not saying go out and propose to the first person you meet, but there’s no harm in a little flirting, a little dancing. And I can tell you, there’s a young man over there who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you.”

Steve knew who he meant - it had been difficult not to notice the certified twink propped up against the bar drinking cocktails with his red-headed friend. The young man looked like he’d been poured into those black skin-tight jeans, and the rather feminine, purple button-up, left open over an equally feminine black crop top, accentuated his pale skin and red, pouty lips. Steve would be a liar if he said he wasn’t interested - part of him definitely was, but the more cautious part of him, the part that was still nursing his battered and bruised heart, wasn’t sure.

“Go on, Steve. Buy him a drink. Or at least offer.”

Sam was nothing if not persistent. Steve downed the rest of his bottle, trying for a bit of dutch courage. Apparently, he wasn’t getting out of this either.

“This hasn’t got anything to do with the fact that you want to speak to his friend, does it?”

Sam smiled around his bottle neck before placing it, now empty, back on the table.

“I plead the fifth on that.” Steve smiled back, but rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Come on, before I chicken out. But one drink. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh? I bet you’ll want to stay for more.”

Damn-it!

Steve hated it when Sam was right. He’d almost forgotten how insufferably smug his friend could get, but he had no doubt he would be reminded in the morning. Or rather later in the morning, because it was 4.30am and Steve was quietly trying to find his pants.  

He’d never been a one-night stand kinda guy before, and truly, he hadn’t intended to go home with this man - Bucky - but with each swig of beer, each whispered flirtation, each dance, it had seemed like a better and better idea. They’d gone back to Bucky’s - a small apartment above a bookstore - and, well, things had escalated quickly.

Now, Steve wasn’t going to say he regretted it, because whoo-ee, was Bucky something - very hot, very talented - but now, as the alcohol and post-orgasmic haze was wearing off, he was feeling… awkward?

Bucky was lying on his front on his bed, head turned to the side and lightly snoring. A shaft of light from the street outside shone through the somewhat ratty curtains, highlighting Bucky’s glorious cheekbones and kissable lips. Steve felt a pull inside him, a pull to just get back into the warm bed, wrap his arms around Bucky and go back to sleep but he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was too soon got anything like that.

Locating his slacks, he tugged them on. Groping around further he found his shirt, one sock and both shoes. Gathering them to himself, Steve crept towards the bedroom door, opened it a slither, and snuck out.

As he took a step forward something soft and warm brushed against his foot. Somehow he managed to stifle his scream.

“Mmmerp?”

A pair of large eyes looked up at him in the darkness. Juggling his armful of clothes, Steve pulled out his phone, and turned on the torch.

“Oh, thank fuck. You’re just a cat.”

The animal tilted its white fuzzy face.

“Mmmerp?”

Steve shuffled over to the sofa, resting his phone on the coffee table as he stuffed his arms into his shirt.

“Sorry, little one. I have no idea where your owner keeps your kibble. You’ll have to manage.”

He pulled on his lone sock and slipped on his shoes, making a face at how his bare foot stuck to the leather inner. Laces tightened, he picked up his phone and quietly made his way over to the front door.

“Do me a favour, kitty? Give Bucky a kiss for me, yeah?”

“Mmmerp!”

Carefully shutting the door behind him, and trying not to think too hard about the heaviness in his heart, Steve pulled up his ride share app, and booked himself a cab home.

“So, he just bailed on you?”

Bucky stared down at the account book open in front of him, hoping that the numbers would just start to make sense on their own. And hoping that Nat would just drop it.

“Uh-huh. Gone when I woke up. Left a sock behind though.”

“A veritable Cinderella, then.”

“Ha-ha, Nat. Very funny. His name was Steve.”

Bucky shut the ledger with a snap, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t even know why I’m so cross. It’s not like I haven’t done the moonlight flit before.”

Nat leant against the counter, checking her pristine make-up in her compact mirror.

“It hurts, cos you were on the receiving end this time. My advice? Let it go. You got a good lay out of it, yes?”

“Yes…” It might have been begrudgingly, but he had to agree - the sex had been spectacular. Maybe that’s why he was so sour? Upset that he didn’t get to get up close and friendly to Steve’s dick again? For a short guy, he’d definitely been packing… Oh, well.

“Well, ride the high of a good fuck and move on.”

“Okay, okay. What about you and his friend?”

Nat turned her head and gave a coy smile.

“Sam? A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but you ain’t no lady. Ow! Don’t hit me!” 

Bucky laughed as he raised his arms to fend off Nat’s friendly blows.

“Uncle! Uncle! I give in, I’m sorry.”

“Hhmmff. I suggest you get on with some work. Maybe you should do the book sorting and I’ll do the accounts?”

“Sounds like a plan. And Nat?”

“What?”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Why had he drunk so much last night?

The lights in the ER were far too bright, and he was now 10 hours into an 8 hour shift. And why on earth did people insist on inserting things that shouldn’t be inserted into places that shouldn’t have things inserted?

“Dr Rogers? Are you able to check over the patient in Bay 5?”

“Hmmm?” Steve turned to see the face of Wanda, the triage nurse looking at him expectantly. He bit back a moan as he wiped his hand over his face. “I mean, sure. What’s the story?”

“He says he had an accident at work, but something heavy has impacted his face. His left orbit is bruised and there’s a large edema, which is interfering with his vision.”

Wanda was chewing her lip and Steve could tell she wasn’t sure if the guy’s story was true.

“Okay - I’ll take a look. You’ve got his chart?”

“Right here. And thank you, Steve.”

“No problem.”

Steve pushed up from the desk where he’d managed to find all of two minutes' peace and skimmed through the chart for his new patient as he made his way over to the bay.

“Okay… James, is it?” As he pulled open the curtain and looked up, he froze. “Bucky?”

“Steve?” 

Wanda hadn’t been kidding - Bucky was pretty banged up, but he was still as beautiful as Steve remembered.

The clipboard clattered to the floor and suddenly Steve found himself right in front of Bucky, gently cradling his bruised face in his hands.

“Who did this to you?”

For a heartbeat, Bucky just stared at him and then…

“What? What do you mean?”

“Was it a jealous boyfriend? If so, I’m so sorry. But also, give me his name. I’ll make sure he never sees the light of day again.”

Bucky’s eyes - well, one of them - went wide with understanding before he hissed and winced. Steve picked up the ice pack that had been discarded on the side table and pressed it to the purpling side of Bucky’s face.

“Steve, slow down. It wasn’t somebody else. There’s no boyfriend. No any-one. I had an accident, that’s all.”

“But what? How?”

Bucky chuckled, then winced again.

“Nat’s not going to let me live it down. I do it all the time, and finally, it backfired. I was putting the books away, you know, in my shop.” 

No, Steve didn’t know. Hadn’t realised that the shop below the apartment had been Bucky’s shop. To be fair, he was a little distracted at the time. However, he nodded anyway, aware that he was probably gaping like a fish.

“Well, I have a tendency to overestimate how many books I can carry at once, and then I overbalanced, and crrsshhh,” he gestured wildly. “A dozen hardbacks were bouncing off my face. And I thought I was safe with words. Isn’t it supposed to be sticks and stones that break my bones?”

Another heartbeat of silence and then…

“Oh my God, Bucky. You didn’t just say that?” Steve slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the chuckle that threatened to burst out. “Come on. Let me have a look. We might have to send you to X-ray though.”

Bucky couldn’t believe it. Steve - Sexy Steve from last night - was a doctor. He was certain it was only the pain in his face that stopped his dick from standing straight to attention when Steve had walked in, all professional in his white coat with a stethoscope around his neck.

He also couldn’t believe he’d made that cheesy joke, and that Steve had been all worried about him. 

While Steve did his thing, gently probing and taking notes, and asking him about his pain levels, Bucky ruminated on Steve’s reaction.

“Steve…”

“Mmmhhmmm?” Steve was still looking down at the papers, pen in between his lips, and God, if he hadn’t looked sexier.

“Were you really worried that someone had assaulted me?”

“What? Umm… well…yes. I was worried it was my fault too. Look, Bucky, it was really shitty of me to leave like I did this morning. I’m not... I mean I don’t…” His cheeks turned pink with embarrassment and Bucky took pity on him, leaning over and pressing his finger to Steve’s lips.

“Hey. It’s okay. I don’t think either of us was communicating properly last night - well, communicating in a non sex-specific manner - I think we got that down, don’tcha think?”

Steve gulped.

“Umm, well…”

“Let’s start again, okay? I’m James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to my friends. I own and run a bookstore with my best friend Natasha, and I’m rubbish at relationships.”

He stuck out his hand towards Steve, who looked at it, before reaching out with his own.

“I’m Steve Rogers, ER doctor, here at King’s County. I’ve just returned from several years in LA, and having my heart broken in the process. I’m looking to take things slow.”

“I can do slow. Say, when we both get out of here, if anywhere’s still open, would you like to go and get a coffee?”

“I think I’d like that a lot, Bucky.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @yarnforbrains @sidepartskinnyjeans @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

[nothingkillsyoulikeyourmind105]

“Haven’t I Given Enough”

König x Fem! (y/n)

TW-Super Angsty

“How was I suppose to know things were supposed to end. I’m a operator from Kortac Faction. My job was to get in and get out with the intel. But it was much more than that.”

“The way she looked at me hurt more then any gunshot, stab wound could hurt. She was afraid of me she wouldn’t look at me. She wouldn’t let me touch her. I know she didn’t want to believe that I was the beast that everyone talked about.”

“They promised me this was a solo mission. I never wanted her to see me do this.”

“Realizing who the target was. And how much I had fucked up. This was a set up from the beginning.”

“The target was an arms dealer and a smuggler. Or so I was told. But this wasn’t the target. This was a set up to get rid of me. But why? My job was to eliminate him. I had no idea that was her brother. The way she walked in and the way she looked at my handiwork.”

“The way she pointed her gun towards me. The sound of the gun going off. The ringing in my ears echoed.”

“I waited for death. But the sounds of someone falling and the gun hitting the ground. She stood before me holding her chest.”

I always wake up at that part. I don’t see why I’m being made to talk about this over and over I want to forget that it. Look Doc I know this exercise suppose to help me get pass these memories but I keep remembering her. I want to stop reliving that part where I fucked up my whole life.

“SHE DIED IN MY ARMS AND BY MY ALLIES THE 141 TASK FORCE!!!”

“They showed up. And there she was trying to save her brother but she pulled her gun on me. I watched her die.”

“I’ve given my mind, body, my whole life to this cause defending my country and my government.”

“Only to be given this?”

*Konig gestured to the therapist sitting across from him.*

“Sie ist meinetwegen tot”

-she’s dead because of me

“Suspended me, court martial me.”

“So ist es besser für mich. Schickt mich in die Hölle, das ist mir egal.”

-"It's better for me that way. Send me to hell, I don't care."

"Ich habe sie geliebt!"

-"I loved her!"

Konig you do know that you wake up thinking she’s still alive you’ve done that 5 times this month.

“You’re not in the armed services Mr. König”

"Worüber redest du?"

-“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Konig it’s been 40 years since you were discharged. You don’t remember. Mr. Konig you’ve been with us for 10 years”

*The therapist takes notes on her patient*

~patient has no recollection of his episodes this week and keeps thinking he’s an operator from his younger days.

~patient brings up lost love that went by the name (y/n). He carries her picture with him everywhere asking all the staff and patients if they had seen her anywhere on the grounds.

~patient had a violent outburst yesterday. Something from dinner or one of the visitors perfume set him off.

~ran around the hospice like a mad man calling his lost loves name

~this morning woke up and started his army drills again. Disturbing all the patients.

~his condition isn’t improving. He keeps reverting back to his Kortac Days.

~but his condition is worsening. I’m afraid he isn’t gonna make it to tomorrow.

~binx’s our rest home staff member visited his room this morning and will not leave.

Binx is a cat.

I do hope he finds peace.

“Alright Mr. Konig it’s time for bed”

“You’re dismissed Soldier.”

König sat down on his bed pulling out all of his war pins and his uniform. Dressing himself up and fixing his hood.

“She loved seeing me like this especially after I made love to her and after we would dance. She loved slow dancing.”

“She made me promise her that I would find love in this life. And that she forgave me that day.”

“For my country and my job”

“Have I’ve Given Enough?!”

“Mr. Konig do you need me to stay with you?”

One of the staff members stayed in his room with room. Helping him in whatever way needed.

“No, she’s here to take me with her?”

“She’s here”

“Es ist zu lange her, mein Bär?”

-“"It's been too long, my bear?”

There she stood looking beautiful as ever. She looked beautiful as the day Konig had lost her. There she stood in her daisy sun dress. The one that Konig had bought for her for their 2nd year anniversary.

“Mein Schatz, es ist so schön, dich zu sehen. Ich habe geduldig auf dich gewartet.”

-"My darling, it's so nice to see you. I've been patiently waiting for you."

“How do I look?” “I’ve missed you.”

*Konig walked to her but as he touched her hand he too had reverted back to his younger self*

“Bist du jetzt bereit zu gehen?”

-"Are you ready to go now?"

(Y/N) looked at him with a smile holding his hand.

“Yes my Schatz take me with you. I’m ready to go.”

-together they left hand in hand walking to the bright light that led them to the rest of the 141 Task Force.

“Morning announcements.”

Last night our long time patient Mr. Konig passed peacefully in his sleep. His service will be held later this week. My office is open to everyone I understand this is a grieving process and I do encourage everyone to come visit my office. And if you like to visit the service later this week please do notify staff members to add you to the list at the front.

Walking into his room. Seeing all of his pictures of his friends and his beloved brings tears to my eyes. She must’ve been a special woman to him.

“Excuse me Doc what do we do with Mr. Konig stuff.”

“His belongs will be buried with him and his pictures as well. But this one will be framed in the front.”

The photo that was placed in the lobby was a group photo. Where Konig held his beloved in his arms. She stood beside him. And everyone from the Task Force 141 stood together smiling looking at the camera. The way they look in their younger days they were stunning.

But Mr. Konig beloved was quite the looker. She held him on his waist her hand laid on his stomach. The way Konig tried to level himself out for her to stand beside him for the photo.

a/n credit to the artist for the gif. Name is label beneath the gif.

[maryannecrimsworth]

Trainwreck

Pairing: Hailey Upton x OFC! Elizabeth "Ellie" O'Hara

Summary: O'Hara's undercover case is finally done: the attack was tracked, the boys were identified and the school got evacuated at time. But the teacher, Mrs. Baker --- Ellie's cover --- was caught by the last shooter. And he knows what she had done.

Author's note: Last week, many teenage boys attempted to attack schools of my country. They were stopped. Yet, I had this nightmare on April 20th, and I couldn't get it out of my mind ever since. I wrote this in order to get rid of my thoughts, and to thank all the police offers and people involved who were able to stop the attacks and help amidst all the violence and sorrow.

Warnings: violence; shooting; mention of school shooting; crying; panic attack

It felt cold. Icy. Empty.

It trembled and faltered as I tried to keep standing. The only thing I felt was my spine: the cold running up and down by it. I did not feel my skin, nor the tears soaking my face. I felt the cold, of my body and of the gun, aimed to my forehead, brushing it ever so slightly.

The kid did not even know to hold it. But he screamed and screamed – I could not understand what. He had said it, repeated it a dozen times, but I didn't reply. I heard the silence amidst his shouts: I knew what sound was about to emerge, and I waited for it.

It was the only thing that kept from bending down and begging for mercy. I felt limbs trying to make me knee, but I fought back. I fought, with my eyes closed and empty body, while his screams spread all over the classroom. Chairs and tables were thrown in my direction, yet I did not see it. Were they threats? Were they aiming at me, just like his gun?

A loud sound stopped his voice from rising again: his face turned white for a moment, then he smiled.

"It has begun." He spoke proudly. The revolver touched my forehead again. "You were useless. You are useless." The gun clicked, smoothly. "Your fucking traitor bitch."

"CHICAGO P.D!" The sound came as a divine response to him. The sound I waited so long for. "DROP THE GUN!"

I could hear him gasping. Finally, I could hear him – and I could feel my body. The cold was still there, but a burst of energy moved my arms in his direction. His panic became worse than mine – his hand faltered, and he nearly shot my head; if not for the sudden move I had made, I would be dead. The board behind me was hit and broken, the kid jumped with the powerful feeling of the gun kick in his hand and dropped it. It fired again, and hit a chair in the room. The metal echoed as the chair fell into pieces.

He was not strong. He could not be – he was a weak and small teenage boy, too tiny to fight back; bold enough to use a gun instead – he was a shooter. A bullied kid. A coward, in pain. I've seen it during all the months I've spent in his class, in his school – I became his teacher, in order to save him. Or to stop him.

But, today, he was no longer a victim. No longer a sad, suffering boy. Today he was a monster, a furious man, willing to kill. He had followers spread in the school. Followers that were now arrested, or killed. He was seconds away from paying for his crimes – for his plan to revenge and to murder.

He knew that he had lost. He knew that it was over. And all his rage came to the surface at once – he roared like a beast, and jumped over me as the steps reached the hallway.

He stretched and punched me, wildly, blindly, and I held his arms. I looked at his eyes as he screamed at me: his eyes. His eyes were...different. They didn't belong to my student, to a shy kid – they were violent. Vile. Evil. My body froze as I stared into his soul – it was like looking at the devil himself.

My ears sizzled while blood started to pop up from his blows. His fingernails pierce through my skin – he wasn't trying to escape from my hands. He was trying to hurt me. I could see it in his eyes: he wanted to kill me.

I did not hear the sound of the police stepping into the room. I did not hear her warnings. I did not hear the shot.

I only felt his weight and body in my hands.

Someone pulled me away – his body fell without my support. Lifeless. I wasn't able to hold him. I wasn't able to help him. No one was. Not anymore.

The kid was dead.

"They're fine. They're fine." A voice tried to calm me down. Its hands moved me away, but my eyes stayed on the floor. On him. "The school was evacuated." Sargeant? It was him? Voight stopped the shouting? "No one got hurt." The cold came back. My spine -- the only thing I felt -- trembled and shuddered. I fell. I did not feel my knees hitting the ground. "Look at me!" His blood was spreading over the floor. I was too far away to touch it. The officers around him shook their heads in sync. An ambo was not needed. He was dead. "Look at me!"

"He's dead." I mumbled. "I did it– I did not–" I crawled towards him – the coldness moved me forward, the despair shook and drove me. "Jimmy is dead. Oh my god." My chest was crushed -- my own weight was too heavy. I fell again. "What have I done?"

"You saved a whole school." There were hands holding me. Keeping me from the bloodied floor and curious eyes of other officers. "Listen to me! You saved dozens of children. You saved them. You hurted no one." I wasn't able to look at him anymore. Someone was in front of me. "Look at me, O'Hara. Look at me." My gaze focused on the person ahead. Hailey wasn't shaking as I was. Her grip felt strange in my skin. "You did great. Everyone's safe because of you." She was smiling. Trying to. "You listened? You saved all of them."

"Not all." Her touch helped me to feel something besides the coldness. Soon I felt my body and I was able to control it again. I stood up. I walked away. I left the classroom with Hailey Upton's arms around my shoulders. She made me move. She made me, finally, step away from the kid. From the shooter.

His image was confusing in my head and heart – I was satisfied and sad at the same time.

I could not cheer as the rest of the police officers. I could not be glad because of my "good job". I could not accept Voight's compliments.

"Can I go home?" I asked as soon as he finished explaining the last details of the procedure. The numbers of dead and imprisoned. I watched all of them during the last months – I knew all of them. And I did not want to know. "Is it over?"

Part of the team widened at me, but Hank did not react. He nodded. So I left.

"Stay with her." He told Upton.

"Sarge, I don't think–" Kim said immediately.

"It's okay." Hailey cut her off. "I'm good."

"You're exhausted." Kim argued. "And so is O'Hara. It's–"

"Burgess." Hank deadpanned. "They both go, the rest of you will finish the inquest." The sargeant looked at all of them. "Now."

X

I think my mom was right. She said to me "You don't have to be a teacher. There's another way of helping people." She was a teacher herself, and I saw how hard it was. But I loved it – to teach, to guide. A teacher can change someone's life, and they have changed mine. So I wanted to do it too.

I still don't know how I ended up being a cop. She didn't approve of it either, nor did my dad.

What has changed?

What has changed since my mom's time?

She was never afraid of this. Her school was safe.

What has changed?

I didn't know what it was, but I recognized it. I felt it. It made me a cop and, yet, I didn't know how to stop it.

This time, however, somehow I did it. I stopped it.

Did I?

The kid was dead.

My student. My student was dead.

And there were so many others. There will continue to be, because of them — the ones I also taught. The bullys. No one could really blame them — they didn't shoot at anyone. But the pain in the boy's gaze started somehow. Somewhere.

So that was the way to stop it? To prevent kids from being stupid and committing mistakes?

Were they truly innocent kids?

The coldness of Chicago hit my face. I soon realized where I was: the streets were empty, but the neighborhood was familiar.

I had a house there. Not really me, but my cover did — the Mrs. Baker did. Some students also lived there. Right now, they were sitting in their living room, watching the news about the failed school shooting attempt. Watching about the casualties and how an anonymous tip saved the whole school.

Anonymous.

No one could know I did it. Besides the intelligence unit and some police officers, no one knew I was more than a teacher. Now I'm not even it. The cover was gone — the task was concluded.

My house would be empty by the weekend. My belongings — the teacher's belongings — would be given away.

I have no place to go.

The streets are still empty.

The question echoes in the air as I hear gasps and voices coming from the houses.

No one comes out. No one talks to anyone. The neighborhood remains frightened and lonely.

What has changed?

X

Hailey Upton rushed to the parking lot as soon Burgess stopped talking. In a blink of an eye, the barely moving undercover officer disappeared in the school hallways. There were cameras and journalists in the surroundings, and police men keeping them away. Some curious students and teachers were watching. Yet, O'Hara was nowhere to be found. This was usual since Hailey's and Ellie's academy days, but this time was different. This time Ellie was shaking and zoning out, totally detached from reality. Hailey had never seen her like that — therefore she didn't know what her long-date colleague was capable of.

She was supposed to be happy. Relieved, at least — but O'Hara looked more disturbed than ever.

Hailey arrived at the parking lot. Ellie's car was not there.

Ellie was not there.

"Upton!" A strong voice called from behind. "Hold on a bit."

Hailey turned back and saw Atwater approaching.

"I've got some news." He announced. "Her lead was right. There was a group." He smiled. "The police from neighboring towns already arrested the shooters."

"Any victims?"

"None. She might have saved hundreds of kids. O'Hara has to know it."

"Yes. I hope it will help her." Upton moved back. "Thank you, Atwater."

Has to know it. The phrase repeated inside Hailey's head. She has to, because she doesn't know it — the look in her eyes earlier, the way she glanced at the shooter. She was guilty.

And she would try to help until she succeeded.

Upton knew exactly where she was.

X

I didn't want to make a scene. I didn't want anyone to know. There were already a pair of detectives bringing up the news to her. Her kid was dead, and I heard her crying the moment she figured it out.

I wanted to step in. I wanted to go closer and say to her "I'm sorry." I am sorry.

No one else, no matter how tiny and close to each other the houses were, moved in the neighborhood. Part of it already knew: his face was already in the news. But no one walked outside. No one walked to her.

I did.

I used the open door and walked into the living room as I listened to the detectives speaking further into the house. Her sobs led me to a hallway. I stood there, between the two doors: in the left, the police men spoke and investigated his bedroom; in the right, her bedroom and screams, begging for her son. I stepped to the side, in her direction, and I was about to reach the hallway when my body froze again.

The coldness in the spine, the insensitive skin. Then, suddenly, the same hard grip that held me from the ground now held me again: the strong hands drove me away and out of the house, in complete silence. I could not fight it.

"Ellie." The voice spoke. "What are you doing? What are you thinking?"

"She--" I mumbled. "She needs a tissue." I stepped back to the house, but it held me again.

"No! You're done with this, you hear me?" I shook my head, trying to free myself. "You're done with it, Ellie, you can't get involved."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why am I done?"

Hailey stared straight at me, and forced me to do the same: her gaze was confused and intense, it looked for an explanation and logic.

"They are all safe. All the schools of the region. You did it, you saved them."

"I failed him."

"You stopped a school shouting." She argued back.

"He's dead." I sobbed. The cold spread over my face, my cheeks got soak because of the salty tears. "Why couldn't I stop him? Why did he do it?

"Ellie–"

"I can't--"

"Ellie!" She shook me. I could no longer feel her grip, no matter how tight it was: now, I felt a different type of pinch. It suppressed my lungs, and the words coming out my mouth were nothing more than shaky breaths.

I couldn't breathe.

"It doesn't matter. You have to breathe." I closed my eyes and retreated, but her hands kept me from moving away. There was warmth in my face. "You're losing your mind."

"Please!," I breathed out. "Please, Hailey, just tell me why."

"You're asking the wrong question" I could hear a weak laugh. "as always."

I sniffed and tilted in response.

"The right question is: how do we stop it?" I grunted, but she went on. "And you did it. You stopped it. That boy chose this and there was nothing you could possibly do."

"He was my student." I broke down: Hailey hugged me and held me up. "He was–"

"I know, I know." She whispered. "You did your best. They're good now. Please, calm down." I was shaking under her embrace. "Please, come back."

I cried out loud as the police kept arriving at the scene: at the shooter's house. Upton stopped me from getting involved, just like she has done so many times before – she drove me away from the neighborhood. She drove me to a place I have never been before.

I just understood where I was when my blurred eyes gazed at the empty kitchen and messy living room.

"Is that–"

"It's okay." Hailey cut me off and quickly gathered the blanket over the couch. "Jay's away. Army's mission."

"I didn't–" I shook my head and stepped back. "I shouldn't stay."

"It's okay." She kindly smiled at me. "That's why I'm here, remember?"

"To stop my trainwreck of thought?"

She laughed as I remembered her stupid phrase from our academy days.

And then she repeated:

"To stop your trainwreck of thought."

X

Author's note for @wordsandupstead , @poppadom0912 , @amsgrey: I just wanted to show this to somebody. I'm not sure if I will write about One Chicago again, but I needed to do this.