#honeypot diner

[chateautangerine]

You can drive a car through his head in five minutes, vast and cloudy and unknowable, Cliff staring a second too long. He draws in air. "...I hope you're not teasing me," Cliff lets go, serene. 

The drive to Bokie's was a short one. This may be a day of firsts.

He does not recall the last time someone's asked him to lunch. He is certain that no one has ever leaned against the side of his car or called him what Lestat just did, either, his hat stolen from his head. Tiny bubbles hang above him, his car parked out the front of the restaurant. Cliff feels like a dandelion blown to the wind, white-blank-airborne. 

What is Lestat? Unexpected and untethered, a man who has probably never been denied a thing his entire life that he couldn’t eventually win over—perhaps with a smile. Perhaps with teeth.

"I believe it fits you," he sighs at last, turning his head lazily away, like stirring from sleep. He means the hat. Then, softer, "Plainly so."

The sun is setting; a great orange tangerine. Cliff thinks about biting into it and if it'll finally make him feel bright, and without preamble, the memory of Lestat's face cast over his eyes, he looks to the sky. "I wonder if I was supposed to meet you," Cliff murmurs, the words gone with the wind, "...and why that is."

Fate, he means. If they went meant to find each other in that parking lot. If everyone they've ever met was someone they were supposed to meet, and if, somehow, this 1PM lunch outside a New York drive-in was written in the stars; an indelible truth.

The carhop arrives and sets their orders down. Cliff is still floaty, and the wind blows.

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 , monsieur. I am not entirely sure what a Bokie is but I am WILLING to trust you with your chooses of food places. I don't get out much . . . . . ❞ This may be true but he knew what was good when it came to the human taste buds. They enjoyed themselves some good burgers & fries. FRENCH FRIES; they called it ( Though, Lestat knew that such a disgusting little thing did not come from his beloved country, in fact - It's said that this dish was discovered by American soldiers in Belgium during World War I &, of course — since the dominant language of southern Belgium is French . . . that's what happens when human's get bored. & BORED they do get, very often. )

Boots scuffs on the dirt ground while he followed suit, the black he was wearing stuck to his frame, the humidity in the air was definitely not kind to the both of them, regardless —  here he was. A soft sigh through the nose, looking up toward the sky as a result. Brows furrowed in a way that many due when quietly wondering as to WHY the weather was the way it was. ❝ I'll follow you . . . . do not concern yourself about me. ❞ It was peruse to know what was floating in the other man's mind. Quite fondly, in fact. The vampire found it comforting to read thoughts that were meant to read. He found Cliff's thoughts to be loud & absorbing. In fact, his mind sort of was set out like a painting, LISTENING as the brush strokes forming a single sentence.

[zzzennin]

would've, could've, should've.

I haven't written anything in so long I just type vomited here, so no beta read. English is not my first language. Heavily inspired by this song.

TW: alcohol consumption, mentions of infidelity, abuse, age gap (you 18 and endeavor on his 40's) , depression, mention death a couple times too, very indecent relationship, power abuse, virginity loss, Endeavor is the bad guy, he is taking advantage of the reader. lmk if I forgot something.

You were way too drunk to be speaking like this, always being quiet and so private about your life, maybe the silence caught up on you. Maybe was seeing that stupid post on Facebook from that friend from your mom praising that perverted old man for being such an inspiration for the younger generations, a role model as a hero, as a husband, as a father.

If they only knew what a piece of shit Endeavor was.

Fresh 18, your first job was an internship actually but who cares, you were so excited about not only making some cash so you could afford your own place when college started but maybe if you're lucky you could even get a date with that new hero Hawks he was so cute and charming. A hero did actually put their eyes on you, just not the one you expected.

Now, at 27 all those memories feel like weapons pointed at your head, land mines in random places that when you forget about them they explode you back to your younger self, stupid and naive. You would be lying if you said that getting his attention didn1t make you feel important and seen. He was so charming with small smiles and little chocolates he left at your desk, the post-shift he stayed with you when you have to do tons of photocopies Endeavor made you laugh and carried all that paper for your little arms.

He walked you home, he was a hero after all just couldn't let his inter go home by herself the city is so dangerous when the sun goes down. So he took his big fancy car and drove you home listening to soft love songs, he was so handsome. Took you to the diner the first time cause you worked so hard, deserved a belly full of good food, he'll pay. On the way home, he put his big hand on your tight. Your core pulsed.

He's married, older than you, maybe is an old man thing? you thought to yourself.

But soon enough it got clear that he was, in fact, hitting on you, silly you got so happy blushing like a school girl, you were just two years older than his younger son. You wish now that you tasted like poison on his lips every time he kissed you so passionately, he would spit you out and never speak on it again. But you were sweet, a honeypot he couldn't get enough of.

So he started to consume your days, nights and all your thoughts were about him, how to please him, become better for him. And Endeavor loved that shit, the adoration on your eyes. How he got to corrupt you slowly in every single way. You begged for his time, for a drop of love and attention, and got you hooked on him. His smell, his skin, lips, dick and he fucked you so good.

Endeavor was your first, to clear the tears from your face as you lay under him in a love hotel by the beach, your parents think you went with some school friends, but you were in that dirty hotel in a faraway city with a married man taking your virginity.

If there's lucidity in death why this just doesn't die already? He broke you so many years ago and you still mourn the person who you were before him, you still fight him in your sleep in your restless nights. You still regret him all the time. Every second he happens to cross your mind.

He used, abused you, and trowed away like you never existed in the first place.

Many years later you sat in a dirty bar with bloodshot eyes while your fourth drink is in your hand and you just spilled everything out to the random person who happened to sit near you, he didn't know you anyway.

"What a fucker" his deep voice replies and for the first time in what feels like hours you get your head up and look at the man the eyes, bright blue eyes, and dark hair, half his face is burned and you are pretty sure you saw him on the news the other day. You are too tired to care, if he kills you tonight maybe this could be a closure, not a satisfactory one, but still. "you know, I live by one philosophy, think you gonna like it".

He takes a sip from his drink.

"Don't get sad. Get even"

[jackwolfes]

what projects are you working on?

ok so ive been working on a lot of little things lately, and they're like? kind of all not going anywhere? which is just how it is sometimes and i think it says more about like, my busy fucking summer & possible burn out than the state of my writing

anyway the obvious big one is sugar baby au which i've now started posting!!! so now i'm like, locked in and actually have to finish it instead of agonising about it being perfect

i've also been working more on sex shop au (currently on its third iteration because life's a nightmare) to try and like, iron out the creases and fix the bits that were making me stumble

ALSO, because it's coming up to nano im starting to think about my original projects, meaning i'm envisioning taking a lil pause on all my fic shit to go back to my 19th century lesbians for a month <3

if you'd like a fuller analysis of all my lil projects (& wanna ask about any of em), have at it:

things that i am actively working on with a view to post soon:

sugar baby au

amnesia au (ok im lying when i say 'actively working on' but i haven't forgotten about it!)

becko birthday present (birthday gift for beloved fiance!!! this shit's time bound so you Will be seeing it in september unless smth goes very wrong)

things i am actively working on but realistically won't be posting for a few months at least, assuming i finish them & don't get distracted:

sex shop au

5 times Wylan snuck out of someone’s bed (+ 1 time he stayed the night)

vampire sex but make it voyeurism (halloween here we come babeyy)

things that in theory i would like to be working on & posting soon but my brain's a nightmare:

ghezen's most special lil guy (ghezenite wylan)

jesper go nyoom (street racer au)

knights & princes (super gratuitous rich boy/bodyguard au because i am fuuuuucking self indulgent)

oh shit! this diner is haunted! (refuse to add further context bc i think it's funnier without)

heartrender hypnotherapist (grisha wylan AU & also sort of hypnokink bc an anon asked for it once)

pregnancy scare au, i guess (mostly finished actually, may or may not be anonymously posted bc it may or may not be a/b/o)

gomens au, sort of (this genuinely has some of my best writing and it's difficult to pick it back up until i am actually confident i will write well again, yknow?)

things that i really would like to finish at some point in my life but realistically won't be posting any time soon:

by the sea (really fun summery au that i am committed to keeping on my to do list but havent touched in like, a year)

enby wylan

wesper anniversary party (sequel to this)

ghost (wylan abuse study)

honeypot / club (uhhh tacky bullshit, but there's mirror sex?)

kylan fwb (is what it is)

lookout (super flowery porn)

intergalactic orgy times (space porn!)

whoops i'm predictable (they fuck in a carriage)

sexy lil TA (the one and only college AU i will ever write)

relapse fight (wesper fight and are angsty about it)

voice kink (audiobook narrator jesper anyone?)

wylan gets walked in on (is what it is)

zookeeper au (one day!! i will finish this!!!)

bonus, red white and royal blue fics that i sort of forget about until i'm compelled by the Urges and rapidly work on them in a burst of adrenaline and then forget about again:

hunger games au

cowboy au

[chesacakeripper]

It's obviously going to be a big jump in income and workload for Kazuki and Rei going from contract killers to owning and running their own diner, right? Sure, Kazuki's got a pot saved from his refused payments to Karin, but that's likely to run dry quite quickly - deeply unlikely that either of them are receiving their gunshot wound care and PT/OT from an official source and shady mob doctors aren't going to come cheap.

The café/diner is definitely a goal and a reliable income stream when they get there, but that's going to take some time, some physical recovery, not to mention the overheads!

What I'm saying is, whilst I don't think that Kazuki or Rei go back to the organisation by any stretch of the imagination, I don't think they'd divorce themselves from the underworld completely at first. Entry-level minimum wage jobs would be a start, but they'd need other income sources to make up for the loss.

And with Kazuki's honeypot history, I don't think it's too much of a stretch for him to transition into some escort work 👀

[pffpth]

Unusual Muse Associations

tagged by @alaraxia ! and i thiiink i'll tag @the-cooler-sidestep if they haven't done it already (if you have then uh. i tag the Fandom, Generically)

Morgan Walsh — Shiver — Fallen Hero

Seasoning: cinnamon

Weather: rainy and foggy days. he prefers a layer of weather between himself and other people.

Colors: deep, forest greens and ocean blues. colors that you can feel yourself sinking into.

Sky: the inky black of a 2 am clear night. It’s the only time he likes a non-cloudy sky.

Magical Power: easy to default back to telepathy, but morgan was always envious of shapeshifting.

Plant: Purple Hyacinth

Weapon: his whole body and environment. he's scrappy, and more than willing to find advantages. 

Subject: neuroscience

Social Media: several burner emails. cycles through them for picking fights on twitter (he's one of those guys). debating making a 'fan account' for shiver on a neocities equivalent as a honeypot (he tells himself).

Makeup Products: moisturizer and concealer.

Candy: peanut butter and chocolate pieces. 

Fear: dying suddenly and randomly.

Ice cube shape: that really small crushed ice that looks closer to snow than proper cubes.

Method of Long Distance Travel: a ducati monster 696. Something he can tuck away from view if needed.

Art Style: still lifes with charcoal

Mythological Creature: chimera

Piece of stationary: a ridiculously full pencil case. contents include pencils of various lengths, stolen diner pens, two erasers (one with questionable teeth marks), a near empty pack of gum, and a single electric blue gel pen.

Three Emojis: 💬🥱✋(ones he'd use) 💣🚬🎂(ones i associate)

Celestial Body: mars

[queencityx]

I am who I am, no excuses.

Charlotte, meet Sadie Marie Montgomery, a 25 year old resident. Hailing from Salem, MA, she’s been living in the neighborhood of Uptown for 2 and a half years. She’s been told she looks like the twin of Lucy Hale, but she disagrees.

GET TO KNOW THEM --

x She’s the owner of a bakery and diner named The Honey Pot. x Sadie has never really gotten over brother's death. She still seeks therapy and goes twice a week if she can. x You will find her volunteering at the local animal shelters to help with all of the animals. She even houses some when it is required.  x she can be found on all social media accounts by the handle @honeypot. x People often describe her as Passionate, Loyal, Intelligent but also Devious, Stubborn, Clumsy. x When she’s not at work or with friends, she likes to attend yoga classes and go wine tasting. x Her favorite person was her relationship with her older brother, Chris before he was killed.

TO THE GRAVE --

When Sadie graduated high school, she went right into college it was just around the time her older brother had been killed. She was a wreck as was her entire family. To escape the trauma and everything that followed with it she went to study abroad in Italy for a year. While she was there, she got involved with a few other girls who convinced her that it was all the rage to essentially be an escort to rich men who wanted to throw money at them. Getting involved it was all fun until she stopped a few months before she was getting ready to head back home to the states. The guy she was giving her time to became obsessive and stalkerish. Unfortunately, he had followed her back to the states and though she was tipped off she could never really find out where he was. He had turned out to be a very sick individual with a very possessive behavior. She feels eyes on her at all times but she can never truly tell if it is him. 

[keithbutgay]

GIDEON -> google search results for "sweat resistant bolo ties"

MYSTERY SHACK -> google search results for "confusion hill", which was the inspiration for Gravity Falls and the Mystery Shack

WEIRDMAGGEDON -> a newspaper written by toby determined, saying that "nothing happened" and "what-pocolypse"

Soos got his head stuck in a clay honeypot and said he would do it again

30% off coupon from Greasy's Diner--- "come for the food, stay for the food poisoning!"

Toby Determined has been lazed on 43 seperate occasions

Stamp that says "will we ever make a profit? to be determined!" on it, with "the newspaper that bird cages love" stamped on the other corner

PORTAL -> "PORTAL.EXE HAS BEEN DELETED. I BET YOU COULD BUILD ONE" displayed on the tv

BLIND EYE -> a vision chart, saying "wkhboodoovhh", which decoded translates to "theyll all see"

STANFORD ->

Medical report about Ford's extra finger with an x-ray

A place where a photo was ripped out

Blotted out sentence says "If I could kidnap him and bring him to our secret cloning lab"

Date of birth is June 16th... 19? That number is not completed under the blot

Capitalization errors in "Flight of the Bumblebee", "Oh, please." and "Whoops, haha."

Ford is ambidextrous!

Voluntary discharge, finger donor, 18...

[twilightprince101]

in a discord server I'm in, there's a recurring trend where my boy Brandy keeps catching feelings for cryptids, eldritch horrors or beings from beyond time. Thus we've given him the title "Brandy--the Cryptid Smoocher." So I decided to formally give him that title

God help this man he cannot stop falling for the unknowable terrors

credits go to @strabbyshortcake for Melonie and Quetzalcóatl Wiggle @hyper-fixator for Dark Fae Seris and @mgdeerla for Mystery Time Grump

[strabbyshortcake]

the honeypot staff have some.... interesting dentition

however it’s rare for customers to see them open their mouths wide enough to notice anything is off

[asterkiss]

I'm so sorry about this second ask, I simply have no idea how Tumblr works.

I forgot to put in details... What I meant was— it's like fluff, crack, grudging respect, and angst. (ijustrealizeditseemslikeheckalot—)

But of course, if only you want to write this!! I'm also not wanting to sound demanding or smthn, I'm sorry.

Thank you though! I really am.

I got your fluff, I got your angst, I got all the inbetween. Have a oneshot that was both fun and frustrating to write and as always ended up longer than I intented. (11k, oof).

Posting this here but I’ll re-read it a few times and spruce it up a bit more before posting to my AO3 account. If there are any major differences between versions, I’ll let ya know.

- HONEYPOT

Bill Cipher was a demon.

A member of the First Hierarchy under Lucifer’s rule, his duty involved the capture of human souls to meet his quota. It wasn’t a stretch to say he was one of the best in the business when it came to this sort of thing. He was the top ranked in the Seraphim order after all when it came to collecting souls, and even fellow demons feared him. He’d been #1 for the last three hundred and fifty six years.

And so it was, when the identity of his next target landed in his lap, the demon had no qualms about it. He hadn’t once failed in securing a soul in his thousands of years on the frontlines.

So why would this time be any different?

.

Mabel Pines, nineteen years old. Born in Piedmont, California alongside her twin brother. An uneventful life so far and nothing special.

‘So what d’ya say kid, ya can have anything you want in the entire world. Fame, fortune, love, ya name it.’

The girl’s attention perked at his words, even as she regarded him warily. The whole introducing yourself as a demon will do that to folk. The two sat in a diner, secluded away in a booth at the back.

‘And you get my soul in return?’

‘Yup! But don’t worry about that part, we won’t collect it until years later. It’s all contained in the paperwork here. So, what ya say, ready to sign the contract?’ He procured a pen and thick bundle of papers from the air, pushing them towards her across the table with a grin. She came off as pretty naïve, so he had no concerns about her signing on. Mabel Pines came off as your typical airhead who acted impulsively without thinking of the consequences – he’d watched her down an entire jar of mayonnaise on a dare just a few days prior.

‘Mhmm, no thanks.’

‘Great, then just sign here–‘

Wait, what.

The blond-haired demon stared at her in bewilderment. Mabel gave him an apologetic smile as she shrugged her shoulders and nudged the contract back towards him. ‘See ya.’

He took the contract wordlessly, staring down at it as if it would offer the answers to the many questions rushing through his mind. When he raised his head, the human had already left.

What the hell just happened?

.

Turns out that Mabel Pines’ twin brother was an Exorcist in training and a formidable one at that. Heck, multiple relatives of the family had been in that line of work. If he had done his proper recon before approaching the target he would have known but now a days Bill just skipped that altogether. It was just a hassle and he never needed it.

Not until now anyways.

Her family relations to exorcism would explain why her soul was highlighted as being more valuable than your every day run of the mill soul though. Look at all those points her soul would fetch for him, nice.

Unfortunately the teenage girl was close with her brother – sickeningly close actually. Their sibling love for one another made him wanna vomit. What was most irritating was that her brother drilled into her just how deceitful demons were and had apparently made her promise to never make a deal with a demon. Something she had of course agreed to.

Well, it had been a while since he had a challenge.

He could deal with this.

.

‘Will you leave me alone already?’

‘Not until you sign this contract.’

‘Urgh.’

Two months later and Bill was getting increasingly annoyed with this kid. His top spot on the leader board for soul capture would soon be in threat of being taken if this went on.

‘If you’re so annoyed by my constant presence then tell me, why haven’t ya told Pine Tree about me?’ he goaded with an arched eyebrow.

Mabel frowned. ‘I don’t need Dipper’s help to deal with you.’

Ah, there was that stubborn pride. As a demon he loved it.

‘Really?’ He hovered over her as she sat at her desk, close enough that she could feel his breath on her throat but not so close as to initiate any actual contact. ‘If you really wanted to prove yourself to him I could make that happen. All it would take is one wish-‘

‘I said no!’ she yelled, snapping her head around to face him. Their eyes met and she glowered until apparently realising just how close their faces were. She quickly scooted away and returned her attention to her books, trying desperately to study. Her college work had begun to take a decline ever since her life was invaded by the demon. She knew if she rang Dipper up and explained the situation, he’d hop on the next flight over from Asia but she didn’t want to disrupt his training, not when he’d been so excited to be accepted into the program. It was run by a secret organisation intent on destroying demons and other supernatural entities and their criteria for taking on individuals was super strict. You only got one shot at it.

No, she definitely couldn’t call him. She’d deal with this herself. It wasn’t like she was in immediate danger so long as she didn’t hand her soul over – and that obviously wasn’t going to happen.

She could deal with this herself.

.

A few days later found Mabel walking around her apartment with sage as she blitzed the place completely. Urgh, she hated this smell. She covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her sweater as she walked around the perimeter of her living room.

‘Dang, who died in here?’

She span around, eyes falling upon the blond gentleman standing clear as day in her apartment as the smoke wafted around his frame without effect. What!?

‘No, you’re not meant to be able to come in here!’ she yelled, dropping her arm from her face to glare at him instead. A moment later the girl regretted her actions however when she began coughing over the stench.

‘Hm?’ Bill regarded her spluttering act before noting the burning herb in her hands. ‘Ah, is that sage? Sorry to inform you but it’ll take a lot more than that to get rid of a demon of my calibre.’

She scowled at him. ‘Challenge accepted.’

He grinned.

.

The next time he stopped by, he flinched when something was hurdled at his face. He managed to avoid it with his abilities, turning around to regard a crucifix laying on the ground behind him.

A sigh. ‘Really?’ he drawled flatly.

The demon turned only to find the brunette stood directly in front of him, gaze intense as she held another crucifix up at him alongside a Bible. ‘The power of Christ compels you!’ she recited.

Bill blinked down at her. ‘Compels me to do what?’

The determination in her gaze wavered. ‘Uh, compels you to… go away?’

He smirked as he leaned down so they were eye to eye, leaning out to poke the crucifix. It snapped in two easily from his simple touch. ‘Not a chance, kid.’

She blinked at the broken artifact in surprise before he smiled warmly and held out a bundle of papers once again. ‘So, about that contract….’

‘Argh!’ She slapped the papers out of his hand causing them to tornado around the pair before fluttering to the ground. Mabel turned on her heel as she retreated to her bedroom.

‘I take it that’s a “no”?’ he called after her breezily, eyes crinkling with mirth at how fun it was to tease her. It took some of the edge off his frustration at her constant refusals.

‘Go to Hell!’

.

Mabel was desperate.

Which was why she was stood in her apartment with Gideon Gleeful in tow, her college classmate looking far too keen to be here.

‘Again, thank you so much darling for the invite. It made me happier than a clam at high tide!’

‘Sure, no problem,’ Mabel replied, trying not to grimace. She’d had to agree to go on a date with him if he helped her out here. Urgh. ‘So, about that exorcism…’

‘Oh, yes!’ The boy smiled warmly as he clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s begin shall we and get rid of those pesky demons invading your space.’ He chuckled as he dropped his backpack and began pulling out various items. Five minutes later and he’d placed down a tarp in the living room where he’d drawn various runes and symbols on in chalk, sitting cross-legged before it with a book in hand. ‘If you’d just be a dear for me and light the candles? Any entity in this place will get trapped in this circle here, guaranteed.’

‘Sure.’ She took the lighter and tended to the candles positioned around the tarp. She really hoped this worked. Once done, she stood a few feet behind the boy and allowed him to do his thing.

Gideon cleared his throat before speaking with his book in hand. ‘O’ demon that haunts this place, I demand thee show yourself before us now!’

Mabel glanced around the room nervously, but nothing happened. Gideon seemed undeterred however as he spoke again, louder this time. ‘If any demon or ghost or other entity is present, I demand thee appear this second!’

…Still nothing.

The boy waited for several moments before glancing back at her with a small smile. ‘There’s nothing here, darling.’

Mabel scowled. ‘He’s here, dammit.’ She took a few steps forward. ‘Bill, quit hiding and show yourself!’

‘Sup.’

Mabel jumped, spinning around to find Bill standing there casually and not inside the rune circle as he was meant to. He smiled at her. ‘Calling for me, are we? Did you finally decide to make a deal?’ His smile waned when he noted she wasn’t alone. ‘Who’s Shortstack over there?’

When Mabel glanced Gideon’s way she was caught back by the horrified expression upon his face. He’d gone paler than a ghost. The boy quickly backpedalled, holding up his book. ‘D-D-Demon! It’s a real demon!!’

Mabel wasn’t sure why he looked so terrified. Sure, Bill was a demon but he just looked like an ordinary guy.

But unbeknownst to her Gideon saw more than that. His heart leapt into his throat as he watched the dark amalgamated form standing at the other side of the room. A large, sinister red eye stared from the shadows as several pairs of tendril-like arms covered the room. In addition, a black serpent-like tongue flicked from behind several sharp rows of teeth, and each breath released a cloud of dark smoke.

This was way beyond his pay grade – and here he thought Mabel had made up the whole thing as an excuse to go out with him!

Meanwhile, Mabel regarded Gideon with concern. He looked bad. ‘Gideon, are you alright?’

The boy suddenly screamed bloody murder, leaping up and all but flying out the apartment. Her front door collided against the wall with a thunderous bang and she wondered if he’d actually broken the thing with how hard he slammed the thing open.

‘What the heck?’ she asked, bewildered. She glanced back towards Bill who seemed very amused right now. As if feeling her gaze upon him, he glanced her way. ‘Yes?’

She narrowed her eyes, prodding him in the chest. ‘What did you do to him?’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ he replied easily. ‘It’s not my fault he’s more attuned than others to the supernatural and can see certain things that would otherwise be hidden. There’s a reason I keep my true form hidden.’

Mabel regarded him suspiciously. ‘Show me it.’

‘Hm?’

She folded her arms. ‘Show me your true form, I wanna see it.’

Bill’s smile faded. ‘No.’

‘I’ll consider making a deal with you if you do.’

He scoffed. ‘You’re a bad liar.’ Eyes narrowing, he took a step forward to leer down at her. Some of the bravado in her expression wavered as he loomed over her frame and she swallowed.

‘I’m here to charm you, not scare you,’ he explained, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. ‘You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, after all.’

Mabel wanted to say something but found herself rooted to the spot beneath his intense gaze.

‘But…’ he went on, gaze darkening. ‘I’m not known for my indefinite patience. The honey pot is very close to running out on our relationship Shooting Star, and when that happens you’ll find out just how terrifying I can be.’  

She continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, and for the first time since meeting the demon she felt a sense of trepidation ensnaring her. He kept his stoic expression a few minutes more before it melted, lips quirking into a charming smile and gaze softening as he took a step back. But it didn’t matter now, she’d been given a peek at what lay beneath that façade and now she knew it was all a lie.

‘I’d reconsider my offer if I were you,’ he said, turning on his heel to leave. ‘My current terms will only be available for a limited time, thereafter you’ll find you won’t be provided such generous conditions.’

He left her be and Mabel was alone.

And she was scared.

.

She did something she hadn’t done in a while – she called her great uncles Stanley and Stanford. She hadn’t spoken with them in a while. As kids, she and Dipper had spent a few summers with them but then Stanley and Stanford went travelling the globe in the retirement, and the past few years Dipper seemed to have followed in stride for his training. She was the only Pines girl still in California.

‘Hello?’

‘Grunkle Stan, hey!’

‘Who is this? I’m not giving you any money.’

‘It’s me? Mabel? You’re favourite great niece?’

‘Oh! Hey kid, how ya doing? Been a while since I heard your voice.’

Mabel smiled, she should call more often. ‘Yeah. How are you and Grunkle Ford?’

‘Doing good! Currently in Paris, the locality are stuck up snobs but they do great food and- huh?’ Stanley spoke to someone else. ‘It’s Mabel, she’s calling to see how we are. One second, let me figure out how to put this blasted thing on speaker. Uh….’

After much back and forth they managed it and Mabel grinned into the phone. ‘Hey Grunkle Ford, how are you?’

‘I’m doing well, why the sudden call though?’

Mabel paused. ‘Um, well…’ She cleared her throat. ‘You two were Exorcists for a long while, right?’

There was a pause. ‘Yes,’ Stanford replied, voice serious. ‘Though for the past five years we’ve been retired. Why are you asking?’ Ever the suspicious guy, Mabel could practically sense him narrowing his eyes through the pone.

‘Oh, I was just… curious,’ she replied, fumbling for a reason. ‘Me and some friends are doing a horror movie night and I was trying to find some ideas for horror stories to tell.’

‘Can’t you ask Dipper, he’s currently training in East Asia isn’t he?’ Stanford asked.

‘I don’t really wanna distract him, and besides it’s too late over there right now,’ she replied, internally patting herself on the back for her quick thinking. Good Mabel.

‘Well what d’ya wanna know?’ Stanley asked. ‘We went up against plenty of uggos over the years.’

Mabel relaxed. They bought it. ‘So, I was thinking of a story about a really powerful demon you know? Something that’s resistant to typical stuff like sage and crucifixes and can’t be trapped in rune circles.’

‘Oof, that’d be a tricky bugger,’ Stanley retorted. ‘Only ever saw one of those in all our years working.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes,’ Stanford replied. ‘It was a demon, a powerful one at that. They have their own hierarchy system in place, and this was from the first hierarchy which is the most powerful after Lucifer himself.’

Mabel swallowed. ‘How did you stop it?’

‘We trapped it,’ Stanley replied. ‘Couldn’t kill it so instead we lured the thing into a Church where thirteen Exorcists including ourselves all worked to bind it. It’s currently locked away under the Vatican City and protected 24/7.’

The brunette felt her heart drop. Oh God. And she’d been sat less than a foot away from this thing on multiple occasions for over two months!

‘Mabel, you there?’ Stanley asked when she said nothing.

‘I… Y-Yeah, I’m here,’ she replied, clutching the phone tighter. ‘Um, look, I think there’s something you should know. I think I’m being haunted by a demon who’s just as powerful as that one. Do you think you could get a bunch of exorcists over here to come grab him?’

Silence.

‘Hello? Grunkle Stan? Ford?’ When there was no answer she pulled the phone away from her ear only to realise her phone had switched off. Huh?

‘Now, now, nobody likes a snitch.’

Mabel flinched, head snapping across the room to see Bill smiling at her sinisterly from the shadows. She pulled the bed covers tightly against herself, eyes wide. How long had he been there? ‘You turned my phone off?’

‘Easy enough to fry the battery, don’t worry a new one shouldn’t be expensive.’

‘I don’t get it,’ she replied, eyebrows knitting together. ‘You’re the one who kept goading me to tell my brother about you.’

‘Just because I said you should doesn’t mean I’d let you,’ he replied, standing straight and approaching her. Oh no. She quickly scrambled backward, back hitting the headboard as he came to a stop at the foot of her bed.

‘I just wanted to see if you would ask for help,’ he went on, hands behind his back. ‘It took you quite the while before you did. You’re braver than you look.’

‘G-Get away,’ she stammered.

His eyes glowed. ‘Not so courageous when you realise what you’re up against, are we?’

The pair continued to stare at one another in the darkness for several tense seconds before he chuckled and turned away.

‘This can all end if you just give in.’

With that, he bled into the shadows.

‘Sweet dreams, Shooting Star.’

But instead, all she had were nightmares.

.

She continued her life uneasily and constantly on edge for several weeks, the anxiety wearing on her both mentally and physically. It was exhausting knowing there was an all-powerful demon watching your every move 24/7.

So, tiring in fact that it led her to a fatal mistake.

Mabel was driving to college, sighing as she took another sip of high-concentrated coffee to keep awake. Urgh, and she had exams in two days. What was she going to do?

She was watching the long stretch of road in front of her and the white lines zipping past absentmindedly as she drove past wine fields.

She didn’t even register nodding off.

All she knew was the next second she was hanging upside down in a flipped vehicle, everything hurt and there was the taste of blood permeating her mouth. She could smell gasoline and her breathing began to increase in quick succession as she realised her situation. Mabel went to undo the seat buckle only to yelp as plain flared from her arm. One look told her all she needed to know from the bone poking out – yep, definitely broken.

She managed to undo the buckle and fell to the ceiling of the vehicle, shards of glass digging into her hands and exposed skin.

Everything hurt so much.

Maybe she should just lay here until help arrived.

‘Well, well, well,’ a coy voice cut in.

Urgh, please no.

She turned her head to see Bill crouched over outside, peering in through the driver’s window with a smirk. ‘Got yourself in quite a state there,’ he said. ‘Luckily, I can help you out. All you need to do is, y’know…’ He trailed off meaningfully as he raised an eyebrow and a bundle of papers and pen were procured out of thin air.

She scowled. ‘As if.’

Bill’s eye narrowed. ‘I don’t think you get the severity of the situation here, Shooting Star. That smell you’re smelling is gasoline. And lots of it. I give you a few minutes until some spark ignites this thing into flames.’

Her eyes widened at that, stomach clenching. What? She tried to move but had to bite down on another yell, tears welling in her eyes at the pain. Oh God, everything hurt so much.

‘Don’t be stupid now, take the deal-‘

‘No!’ she yelled. ‘I’m not handing my soul over to some demon and especially not you!’

Bill scowled. ‘You idiot. If you die here, then neither of us win. I get a penalty on my records and you’re dead. What kind of ending is that?’

Mabel met his gaze, expression flaring. ‘Then get me out of here.’

‘Make the deal.’

‘No.’

Bill’s face darkened as they stared at one another, neither budging. The gas continued to leak from the ruptured fuel tank until the electrical system shorted, giving it the needed spark to ignite into flames.

‘God, you’re annoying.’

Bill sighed as he stood a hundred feet away from the inferno, holding the injured girl in his arms. He couldn’t believe he’d lost a game of chicken to this kid. She wasn’t even conscious to hear his insults.

He stared down at her with a scowl. Damn his pride. He’d never had a penalty before, and he wasn’t going to start now. She was lucky he was too prideful to allow her to die and lose points from his record.

Hearing the distant sounds of sirens, Bill dropped her by the roadside in clear sight. He pushed hair from her face, regarding her face. She was actually kinda cute when she wasn’t talking.

‘This isn’t over,’ he promised, before vanishing away.

.

‘I’m fine, Dipper,’ she chided, staring at her brother through the phone as they engaged in a video call.

‘You were in a car crash, Mabel,’ he snapped back, eyes wide. ‘That’s the opposite of fine. And I had to hear it from your friend Candy.’

‘Well, I was too unconscious to tell you myself.’

Dipper released a strangled noise.

‘Seriously though, I’m fine now. They’re discharging me later today actually.’

Her brother sighed, regarding her with concern. ‘I really want to come back and visit you.’

‘If you do that you’ll forfeit your training,’ she lectured. ‘Stay there and finish it off. You’re almost done right, just half a year left?

He hummed in response. ‘Yeah. Almost.’ There was a pause before he gave her a stern look. ‘Okay, but you better keep me updated. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning my time, call me. I worry about you by yourself.’

‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. And she was if you ignored the demon elephant in the room. They chatted for a few more minutes before she ended the call. She stared at the screen for a few moments before sighing. ‘Visiting hours are over y’know.’

‘For family and friends,’ Bill cut in, coming towards her from his corner. ‘I didn’t see any restriction against demons.’

She glared at him.

‘I see you’re still alive, congrats,’ he drawled.

‘Yeah, because of you,’ she replied, feeling awkward. ‘Thanks for that, I guess.’

He grimaced. ‘Don’t mention it. Seriously. I only did it for my own selfish gain.’

‘Well duh, I knew that much,’ she replied. ‘It’s not as if you like me. You’re only doing this because you act for that guy Lucfier.’

‘Lucifer isn’t a demon, it’s a title,’ Bill retorted.

Mabel tilted her head at that. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Every ten thousand years a demon is elected to be our new ruler,’ Bill explained. ‘He becomes the next Lucifer. The method of election is done by choosing whichever Prince has collected the highest number of souls from the First Hierarchy.’ His expression darkened as he clenched his fists. ‘For the last three hundred years I had been the clear favourite but because of you.’ He jabbed a finger in her direction. ‘My quota has gone to shot, and I’m in very dangerous territory of losing my position to some inferior, useless brute!’

Mabel blinked. ‘Sorry, not sorry.’ Wait, had he said he was a Prince? She was about to question that piece of important information when he suddenly yelled.

‘Argh, you are so infuriating!’ he spat, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. ‘I have never met a human as annoying as you!

Mabel folded her arms, lifting her nose into the air in pride. ‘I’ve been told that many times.’

Bill growled at her. ‘You owe me. The least you could do is make a deal with me, I’ll even give you fifty years before I try to claim your soul. That’s generous, right?’

‘Nope.’

He growled, looking like madman. ‘Look, it was okay when you rejected me in the beginning, every time granted me a few extra points to your soul on account of you being difficult, but now you’re just taking the piss!’

Mabel had to admit, seeing an esteemed and all-powerful demon throw a tantrum was very amusing.

She pressed the button to administer another hit of morphine and aaaaah yes, those two combined really hit the spot.

What an amazing feeling.

.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was grateful to the demon for saving her life. Even if it was very much just because of his own selfish interest that happened to align with her surviving.

Some of the fear she’d felt towards him dissipated a little bit. He’d promised he would soon stop acting so charming and show her his real demonic self but so far that hadn’t happened.

She was on bed rest for a few weeks following her discharge, and her friends Candy and Grenda visited her several times with gifts and groceries. It was going fine until one day the pair abruptly walked in whilst Bill was there, having a key for the apartment and therefore able to enter without warning.

All of them stared at each other in silence, taking in the other.

‘Oh, um, hi,’ Candy greeted, offering a nervous smile. ‘We are Mabel’s friends.’

‘Who’s the hunk?’ Grenda asked, getting right to the point.

Mabel floundered for a response. ‘Oh, him? He’s, uh… well… he’s not my boyfriend!’ she cried, wanting to make that part very clear.

‘Ouch,’ Bill remarked.

‘Then who is he?’ Grenda asked.

‘I’m her contractor,’ Bill replied, offering a cheeky grin that made the girls blush.

‘Contractor?’ Candy replied. ‘For what?’

Mabel shot him a sharp look. ‘He’s helping with me with… uh…’

‘Bathroom,’ Bill cut in, nodding. ‘Totally redoing it. Looks awful right now, you get what I mean right?’

The girls blinked but seemed to accept his statement, nodding in agreement to Mabel’s surprise. What was wrong with her bathroom? She decorated it herself!

‘Oh okay,’ Candy replied. ‘Well we won’t interrupt you, we’re just here to drop off some stuff and we’ll be on our way.’ She shot Mabel a wink which made her groan. Totally misreading the room here.

Mabel was glad to get them out of here, sighing in relief.

‘Contractor?’ she repeated, casting him a flat look. ‘Really?’

‘I mean if you’d grant me the honour,’ he replied, bending down on one knee with the pile of papers in hand.

Mabel flushed red. ‘Don’t do that! What if they walk back in and get the wrong idea!?’

She walked away from him. ‘And there’s nothing wrong with my bathroom! The giant frog gives it taste!’

‘Bad taste, yeah.’

.

Mabel hadn’t been on a date in three months.

She hadn’t kissed a guy in five.

She was in serious need of some romance but that proved impossible with a certain blondie. She found that out the first time she tried to bring a guy back to her apartment only to be greeted with Bill laying in her bed with no shirt on. She hoped to God he had been wearing pants but she hadn’t stuck around to find out, and her date hadn’t either.

The poor guy had yelled something about “not being into that sort of stuff” as he fled for the hills.

Bill was acting as a very unwelcome third wheel.

That’s why tonight she’d find some guy and go to his place instead. Perfect. Fluffing up her hair, she examined her get up in the mirror with an appreciate nod. Totally cute as hell. And her arm was now healed enough to not have a cast or sling, so that was great.

She was turning to leave when she walked into a brick wall. Oop. Taking a step back, she raised her head to blink at the demon stood waiting. ‘What do you want?’

His eyes roamed up and down her body before landing on her face. ‘Going somewhere fancy, are we?’

She pursed her lips. ‘We’re having a girls night out.’ She pointed a finger at his chest. ‘No boys allowed.’

He opened his mouth.

‘No demons either.’

He closed it. Bill narrowed his eyes. ‘Well, I hope to see you back tonight. Wouldn’t want to have to follow after you to some unsavoury guy’s room.’

She frowned. ‘Then don’t.’

‘Oh, but I will.’

Mabel stomped her foot. ‘Why!? All I want is one night of romance, you can’t even let me have that!?’

‘A one-night stand is not the setting for romance,’ he drawled back.

‘Well, it’s the best I can get with you around,’ Mabel snapped back. ‘So, I’ll have to settle.’ She went to step around him only to have a hand wrap around her arm and tug her back. When she looked back she found herself staring eye to eye with the demon, their faces scant inches apart as his other arm looped around her waist, hand pressing gently against the small of her back so their waists were close. She blinked rapidly, lips parting to speak but her voice died as his fingers traced down her arm, her thoughts a muddled mess at his actions. Then, as he raised his arm to run his fingers through her hair, she felt herself go slack in his arms. It felt so nice and tantalising. Her eyelids began to droop as he leaned his head closer, lips brushing against her neck before he moved to breathe into her ear.

‘….This is the romance you should strive for,’ he whispered.

And just like that he moved away, his hands of support vanishing so swiftly she tripped over herself to regain her balance. Her face flamed red as she watched him leave her room with a chuckle, and she glared after him. ‘G-Get out!’ she yelled, even though he’d already exited the room. She spun back around towards the mirror, staring at her flushed complexion with humiliation. So what, one intense look and lingering touch and she was like a pile of goo in his arms? Urgh, stupid hormones.

She grabbed her bag with a scowl, still intent on going out. She was cute, it’d be easy to find some guy who wanted to touch her and kiss her and….

….

That wasn’t what she wanted though. She didn’t want to be groped at, she wanted to be held and treasured. She wanted a connection.

She wanted to be loved.

‘Urgh.’ Mabel threw her bag on the bed before joining it face-first as she yelled into her covers and kicked her legs. Curse that demon!

Meanwhile, Bill peeked through the slit in the door to regard her throwing a tantrum of her own following his teasing. He smirked. She really was cute.

.

‘Hey, how’s it going?’ Kryptos asked when they bumped into one another one evening during one of his returns to Hell.

Bill blinked. ‘Oh hey.’

‘So I hear you still haven’t bagged that contract,’ Kryptos asked with a giggle. ‘Here I thought nothing could elude the One-Eyed Demon! What’s keeping the ol’ Bill Cipher, Prince of Seraphium, hm?’

Bill glowered at him, face darkening.

‘Hey, hey, I’m just kidding!’ Kryptos asked, laughing again albeit nervously. ‘It’s just… Everyone is talking about it, y’know? Daemonicus is very close to overtaking you on the leader board so you better watch out. Especially when we’re this close to the deadline!’

‘Ya think I don’t know that?’ he snapped.

‘Well then what’s the problem?’ Kryptos probed. ‘Every human has something they want with every fibre of their being, yours included. Cm’on, if you really try I’m sure you can figure it out – I’m rooting for you to win, I even have bets on it!’

Ah, so that was the reason why. Bill rolled his eyes.

‘It’s not like you’re intentionally dragging your feet for some reason, right?’

Bill scoffed. ‘As if.’

She was just another human being like any other.

And he would take her soul like the countless others before her.

Guaranteed.

.

‘Here.’

Mabel blinked as he offered her a gift box out of the blue over the kitchen island whilst she was baking. ‘What is this?’

‘Open it and find out.’

She frowned suspiciously but did as he said. Upon opening it, she stared in confusion. ‘These are photographs,’ she said. ‘Of my friends and family. She grabbed the one with Dipper on it, it was a shot of him tripping over some rock into a stream. Hah.

‘Yup.’ Bill grinned, resting against the island. ‘And if you don’t make a deal with me I’m gonna kill every one of them.’

Her heart stopped. Mabel raised her head, blinking at him without emotion. ‘…Huh?’ Her throat felt dry. ‘You… You can’t do that.’

‘I’m a demon, I can do whatever I want.’ He shrugged. ‘I tried to be nice but playtime’s over and this is the lot you’re being dealt with now.’

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat as she regarded the photos in the box. Dipper, Candy, Grenda, Gideon, both her Grunkles. The amount of people in here would constitute a slaughter.

Tears burned her eyes as she regarded the pictures. He had warned her he’d stop playing around sooner or later, it was her fault for dropping her guard.

‘Okay,’ she said eventually, voice hoarse as she tried to blink away the tears. ‘You win.’

But when she raised her head once again to look at him, he looked sour-faced. She sniffed. ‘What?’

Bill looked as if he’d eaten a lemon, jaw clenching as he glanced aside. Then, he just shrugged. ‘Eh, never mind.’

She stared blankly. ‘What?’

He turned around and began walking away as he waved a hand. ‘Consider it a prank. It’s no fun to take souls with blackmail, I prefer the old-fashioned way where you come to me instead!’

Her face scrunched up as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Her confusion was cut short however when the smell of burning invaded her nostrils.

‘Ah, the brownies!!’

In the end she put his “prank” down as him being an insufferable demon.

Meanwhile, Bill bashed his head against the bathroom tiles whilst trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him.

.

One evening she was driving back from a party at her older friend’s house, Wendy, who she knew from when she was younger. The girl lived an hour away, so it was a bit of a drive back but apparently Bill decided to sit in with her half way through it. Unfortunately, his sudden appearance caused her to almost have a heart attack and almost earned her a second car crash in the space of four months.

‘I’m not gonna save you from a car wreck a second time,’ he warned when she finally regained her steering. ‘Ain’t happening.’

Mabel sighed out deeply, calming her beating heart. ‘Noted.’

He hummed, leaning back in his seat as they drove through the city. The silence was quite content but even so Mabel decided to cut into it after several minutes.

‘So, when exactly does the honey pot run out?’

‘Hm?’

‘A few months ago you warned me after Gideon,’ she replied. ‘I’m still waiting for you to go all evil on me. You almost had me with the photo prank – which wasn’t funny at all by the way, that’s a real asshole move.’

Bill scoffed, glancing out his window. ‘As if I’d tell you, that would ruin the surprise.’

She shouldn’t have expected to get anything out of him to begin with. She rolled her eyes and continued driving in silence, with only the radio for background noise. Fifteen minutes must have passed when he spoke this time instead.

‘Is there nothing you want?’

‘Hm?’

He glanced at her seriously. ‘Every human has something they would sell their soul for. Even you.’

Mabel gripped onto the steering wheel more tightly.

‘So you do,’ he noted coyly, leaning back in his chair. ‘Cm’on, what is it? I saved your life, you owe me. You’ve obviously resisted it so far so what’s the harm in telling me now?’

Probably a lot, he was a demon after all.

But Mabel told him anyway.

‘My brother,’ she replied, and she saw the surprise on his face when she admitted it. ‘If anything happened to him, I’d…. I don’t know what I’d do.’ She swallowed. ‘I’d do anything for him.’ Even break her promise and sell her soul to save him.

Bill frowned at that. ‘Hm. So all I’d have to do is threaten him and you’d hand the soul over like a piece of pie.’

‘Yeah,’ she replied. As they came to a stop light, she turned to regard him. ‘But you said you don’t do stuff that way.’

Bill folded his arms. ‘I guess I did say that, huh.’ He shot her a look, a sly smile in place. ‘Which is why you’re okay with telling me this. Well played.’

Indeed, she was saying all this on the hope that he would stay true to his word when he advised her he wouldn’t harm her family and friends to get at her.

How stupid to be putting her faith in a demon.

‘So, what now?’ she asked as she put the car into forward again.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m not going to give you my soul unless Dipper was in danger. And you said you wouldn’t intentionally hurt him to force my hand so unless my bro gets in some coincidental accident nothing’s gonna happen.’

‘Your brother’s a god damn Exorcist,’ Bill replied. ‘He’ll be in danger plenty of times.’

‘And you’re fine waiting around for that?’

The demon went silent.

Eventually, he spoke in a soft whisper.

‘By that time you’ll all be done for already.’

‘What?’ Mabel frowned at his response. When he didn’t say anything and she was sure nothing was coming her way on the road, she glanced aside. ‘Bill?’

But he was gone.

Mabel regarded his empty seat for a moment before returning her attention to the road, clenching the steering wheel even tighter still.

What did he mean by that?

.

A few days later found Bill Cipher crouched over Mabel Pines’ sleeping form upon her bed, staring down at her with eyes glowing in the darkness like a feline.

The girl therefore couldn’t be really blamed when she awoke to that sight and screamed bloody murder whilst punching him in the face.

But even so, it still hurt!

‘Ow, motherfu-‘ He rubbed his jaw with a wince as Mabel threw her bedside light on, squinting at the abrupt brightness.

‘Bill?’ she asked in disbelief which was soon eclipsed by anger. ‘What the hell are you playing at? You scared the crap out of me!! Asshole!’

He scowled at her. ‘You weren’t meant to wake up.’

She frowned. ‘That’s creepier. Why are peeping on me in my sleep?’ Her eyes widened, face paling. ‘Do you do this every night?’

‘No!’ he snapped, face flushed with indignation. He didn’t know what it was about this brat that got him so worked up so easily. That’s what he was trying to find out! Admittedly, staring down at her intensely as she slept might not have been the best solution, but he was willing to try anything to answer the several questions running through his mind day and night.

Why hadn’t he “gone all evil” on her, as she so eloquently put it?

Why had he renegaded on his “blackmail” and called it a simple prank?

Why did he continue to avoid threatening her brother, if it meant she’d hand over her soul easily?

He knew there was an obvious answer in plain view but he refused to acknowledge it. To do so would threaten everything he had been working towards these past ten thousand years and make him a laughingstock of all demon kind.

The last demon who took kindly to a human ended up being betrayed and locked under the Vatican to this day. The poor sod.

He refused to end up the same way.

‘Bill?’

She poked his cheek, breaking him out of his stupor as he realised she had been calling him and indeed had scooted to the end of her bed to touch him. He blinked down at her, regarding her perched there in pyjamas covered in narwhale print.

Urgh, why did she continue to look cute?

‘You’re ugly,’ he said instead.

Mabel’s mouth dropped agape, anger igniting within her eyes at his insult. Dammit, now she looked even cuter, he’d made an error.

‘Get the hell out of my bedroom, you creep!’ she yelled.

.

One day a month later she called him with desperation. The demon appeared and she flung herself at him with a frantic gaze as she gripped at his shirt tightly. ‘You have to do something!’

Bill blinked, taking in her frazzled state with confusion. ‘Do what?’

‘I can’t get hold of Dipper!’ she cried. ‘He always responds to my messages, and I haven’t heard from him in two days. I spoke to my Grunkle Ford and he found out from the organisation that they went on a retreat earlier this week and nobody’s heard from them since! They were meant to be fighting some creatures and what if something’s happened to him?’

Bill had never seen her so worked up, not even when she was lying injured in a crashed vehicle. ‘What do you expect me to do?’

‘Go find him!’ she said desperately, eyes wide and imploring. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, so go find him and if he’s in trouble, save him!’

Bill blinked. She was offering her soul on the chance her brother was in trouble – not even guaranteed.

She really did love him, huh? Seriously disgusting.

(A small, tiny part of him tried to say he was jealous but he snuffed it out quickly).

‘Jeez, relax would ya,’ he chided, tugging her hands away from him. ‘I’m sure your brother is fine.’

‘But he’s-!’

‘If it’ll get you to shut up then I’ll find out for ya.’

Mabel blinked. ‘You will?’ Her face split into a wide grin that did weird things to his stomach and he nodded, quickly pulling away. He needed to get some distance and fast.

‘Sure, be right back.’

‘Huh? But what about-‘

He left before she could finish her sentence. Urgh. It was easy enough to travel to East Asia in an instance and only took a few hours to locate her twin brother in the wilderness. Looks like he and his team had gone off the path and become lost, but they were otherwise in good health. If they kept going in the same direction at the pace they were right now, they should find the path again in half a days’ time.

He hung out to make sure that was the case before returning to Mabel Pines home. It was early hours when he arrived, but she was still wide awake given how she leapt out of bed at his arrival. He almost expected her to punch him again but instead she settled for a sharp look instead, looking exhausted and weary. ‘You said you’d be right back! It’s been ten hours!’

‘I was making sure they didn’t get lost again, you’re freaking welcome,’ he muttered.

She perked up at that. ‘So, they’re okay?’

‘I said they would be, didn’t I?’ he retorted. ‘Your idiot brother will probably call you in the morning.’

Mabel then did something that surprised them both. She hugged him.

Throwing her arms around his form, she squeezed the demon tightly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, eyes squeezed shut as she fought back tears of relief.

Bill stood unsurely, arms held aloft at his side as he stared down at the top of her head. He wasn’t sure what to do here. Just as his arms twitched and he began to move them around her frame she suddenly lurched out of his grasp, cheeks dusted pink as she avoided his gaze. ‘Haha…. Sorry about that. I’m just happy about Dipper, that’s all.’

The warmth in his chest died back down and he offered a cool smile. ‘Of course.’ Why else would she ever hug him?

‘Thank you though, I mean it.’ She glanced up at him from beneath wet eyelashes. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t make a deal with me though before going out there. Wouldn’t that have been the perfect time?’

He frowned. Yes, it would have.

‘I’ll choose the perfect time,’ he replied, before leaving.

He really was in dire trouble here, wasn’t he?

.

It had now been eight months since Mabel’s life had been intruded upon by the demon Bill Cipher and whilst it had been rocky in the beginning, she liked to think they had some sort of dysfunctional camaraderie now. It may all just be a very long-con leading up to him grabbing her soul but if so, it was a nice one given what he did for her in regard to Dipper.

Oddly enough though he seemed to appear less and less frequently following the night he confirmed Dipper was safe.

It had been a week since she last saw the demon, and she found herself dicing vegetables at the kitchen counter whilst humming to music on the radio. She wondered what he was up to these days since he seemed too busy to annoy her.

Mabel glanced across her empty apartment thoughtfully before speaking aloud. ‘Bill?’

‘Yes?’

She jumped, dropping the knife in surprise as she spun around to see the blond standing beside the table. She smiled. ‘So, you were here.’

‘I’m always around,’ he replied. ‘Besides, you called me and-‘ He stopped, frowning. ‘Are you bleeding?’

Mabel tilted her head curiously before following his gaze down to her fingers. Oh shoot, she must have cut herself on the knife. She was about to move towards the sink when a hand came into view and pulled her there instead. Mabel could only stare as Bill tutted whilst turning the cold tap on. ‘Really, it’s a surprise how you hadn’t already killed yourself before I came into the picture.’

Mabel watched as he fetched first aid box, procuring a band aid that he proceeded to apply to her finger. He cast her a glance and frowned. ‘Why are you smiling at me like that?’

She blinked. Was she smiling? Huh. ‘No reason,’ she replied. ‘I guess I just find it kinda funny.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘I mean, you’re a demon and you’re here applying band aids to my hand,’ she went on. ‘I didn’t even ask you to.’

The blond’s expression soured, and he dropped her hand abruptly like he’d been burnt. ‘Well sorry for tending to your injuries,’ he replied in a snarky manner.

Her smile dropped, sensing she’d somehow tripped a nerve though she wasn’t sure why. ‘I’m not saying it’s a bad a thing! It was nice so thank you.’

Bill continued to scowl at her.

‘Uh… I don’t suppose you want to stay for dinner?’ she asked. ‘I’m making lasagne and watching a movie.’ Her friends all had plans tonight so it was just a night in alone otherwise.

‘I’m an all-powerful demon who could end you with a flick of my wrist,’ Bill retorted, voice flat.

‘So that’s a no, then?’

His eyes narrowed.

An hour later the pair sat on her sofa with bowls of food as they watched some quiz show where the contestants got dunked into slime if they got an answer wrong. They both laughed every time a person got slimed, which was often.

It was the best night she’d had in a while.

.

She ended up hanging out with the demon more and more in a casual setting. First, they went to the movie theatre. Then, she managed to persuade him to come along shopping whilst she tried on outfits. Next, they went to the aquarium and watched the fish.

Mabel was having a blast, and as the days went by it was getting closer and closer to Dipper being done with his training and coming back home.

It was all going so well until one night she invited Bill to the beach.

‘A bunch of us are going to the beach this weekend,’ she gushed excitedly. ‘And it’s meant to be a really nice day so what d’ya say, you in?’

Bill regarded her from opposite the kitchen table, the pair currently in the midst of eating dinner. He regarded her silently for a moment before replying.

‘No.’

Oh. Her enthusiasm deflated at that, the grin on her face dampening. ‘Why not? Are you not into the beach? You don’t have to go into the water if you don’t want, you can stay on the beach.’

‘I’m done with this little setup you’ve conned me into,’ Bill said, voice short and expression flat.

‘What does that mean?’

‘You’re looking for romance and you’ve pulled me into playing the part of your boyfriend on dates so you can play pretend.’

‘T-That’s not true,’ she retorted, caught off guard.

‘Isn’t it?’ he gave her a look. ‘I must say, even though I’m the demon here you’re being quite a selfish and unfair person.’

Mabel felt her face flush red. ‘You’re the one who banned me from dating anyone! Or did you forget? You said you’d interfere with anyone I tried to have a shot with!’

‘Then consider this my revocation of that promise,’ Bill supplied, offering her a false smile. ‘You’re free to go kiss and romance whoever you wish. Now you have nothing holding you back.’ He stood up from the table and walked past her. ‘Go get your happily ever after whilst you can.’

She turned her head at his ominous words but he’d already left. Hands clenching in her lap, she bit down on her lip.

Okay fine, he didn’t want to hang out? That was no problem, she was only doing that because she thought they were somewhat friends. He was wrong, she wasn’t treating him like her boyfriend. Who would want a demon for a date anyways?

Mabel could find a decent human guy.

And she would.

.

Five dates later and Mabel had to wonder if the dating pool had always been this slim. The first few guys had been total write-offs, using innuendos and pervy picky up lines. The next few weren’t as bad, but Mabel just wasn’t feeling that “zing” she was after.

Her current date sat across from her in the restaurant was promising. He was a doctor in paediatrics who was clean-shaven, polite, and insisted on paying for her order. He had complimented her appearance straight away and had the right amount of listening to speaking ratio.

On paper he was a dynamite prospect.

…So then why did she feel there was still something missing?

Her date smiled at her as he finished his story off. ‘…and that’s how I got into medicine. But enough about me, I’d love to hear more about you. Is it too early to ask for a second date so we can continue our conversation?’

Mabel offered a weak smile back.

‘About that….’

.

She returned to her apartment and collapsed on the sofa, groaning. What was wrong with her? Since when had her expectations been so high that they ruled out hunky doctor gentleman? She was the same girl who’d dated a guy with no job who lived in his mother’s basement and claimed his band “was about to have a breakthrough” for six months!

‘What’s wrong with me?’ she whined.

After several minutes she pushed herself to sit up, sighing as her eyes wandered across her apartment. Had it always been this big and empty? Her lips moved to form his name before she caught herself, chastising herself internally. It wasn’t fair of her to call on him just because she was lonely. Heck, the demon himself had called her out on it!

Grabbing a pillow to hug, she pouted and stared across at her forlorn reflection in the television screen.

She missed him.

Urgh.

How pathetic was she, that she was actually missing the demon who tormented her?

….Except he didn’t. Not anymore at least. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time heharassed her seriously.

‘Sup.’

Speak of the Devil.

Her heart felt elated at the sound of his voice, and Mabel turned her head to find him stepping out of the kitchen with a half-eaten apple in his hand. He blinked when he saw her. ‘What’s with that look?’

Oh. Right. She probably looked like her puppy had been kicked following her bad date-

Except when she caught her gaze in the television screen, she was smiling ear to ear.

Because of him.

She raised her hands, covering her mouth as she flushed pink. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

Mabel squeezed her eyes shut as she internally wailed.

She liked the demon.

God dammit.

Bill continued to stare at her as she acted ridiculously, taking another bite of his apple.

Humans were weird.

.

Mabel was never known for keeping quiet about her love interests. No, she always made a move, bold as ever, and often got turned down.

That’s probably how this would turn out too.

It was a few weeks later that Mabel called on the demon. Bill appeared, as always, in a timely fashion.

‘Yo.’

Mabel smiled at him. ‘Hey.’

He took a second glance, eyes wandering over her frame and Mabel tried not to flush at his scrutiny. She’d dolled herself up a bit before calling him and hoped he’d comment but instead he simply made a small hum in the back of his throat before staring at her expectantly.

Okay, well never mind.

Huffing, she breathed in deeply and took a step towards him, determined. ‘I thought of something else that I’d hand my soul over for.’

That got his attention, his eyes brightening as he gave her his full attention. ‘You have?’

She nodded. ‘Yup. I’d be willing to hand it over for a date.’

His expression fell and he looked almost… disappointed? ‘Really?’ he asked flatly, looking aside and uninterested. ‘Is that it?’

Refusing to be deterred by his response she nodded. ‘Uh huh. Do you wanna know who with?’

‘Not really but go on.’

She took another step forward, clasping her hands behind as she took in another breath.

‘You.’

The demon blinked, looking back at her. He stared. She stared back.

‘What?’

‘I said…. you,’ she repeated, voice quieter this time. Her lips were quirking into a nervous smile and her hands felt super sweaty. ‘I’d wanna go on a date – a real date – with you.’

Bill continued to stare and the more he went without speaking, the more her nerves went into overdrive.

After a full minute, she broke. ‘Uh, this is where it’s your turn to speak,’ she replied. ‘A simple yes or no will suffice. Hopefully yes, heh.’

He cleared his throat. ‘You’re asking me out?’

She nodded.

‘You like me?’

She nodded again.

Bill raised a hand, covering his mouth and jaw as he looked ahead, eyes looking in all directions in frantic thought.

Mabel frowned, unclasping her hands as she reached out towards him. ‘Hey-‘

Bill suddenly snapped his head down, meeting her gaze as he grabbed both her wrists. She blinked, noting that all this time beneath his hand he’d been hiding a smile.

She’d never seen him smile so genuinely before.

‘Did anyone ever tell you that you have bad taste in men?’ he asked, voice light as he regarded her with warm eyes.

She laughed nervously at that. ‘Sometimes…’ She glanced at his hands around her wrists before looking back at him. ‘Soooo… does this mean you’re saying yes?

He leaned closer, releasing her wrists in favour of sliding his fingers between her own as he took both her hands in his.

‘Very much yes,’ he said in an alluring tone, face nearing her own. Ah, there was that zing she was after. She felt a tingling sensation coursing through her entire body and she sighed blissfully as his lips finally met hers. Oh yes. Mouth slanting across his own, she wasn’t sure how but when they pulled apart, his hands had found their way into her hair and her fingers had slid beneath his shirt. Oops.

Mabel regarded him with flushed cheeks, lips stretching into a grin. ‘Well, hi there.’

He smirked back at her.

She really did have bad taste in guys, huh?

.

‘So, what happens now?’ she asked a few weeks later as they laid on her sofa tangled together, her head resting on his chest. Apparently demons also had beating hearts as she could hear it beneath like a steady drum.

‘Hm?’ he replied, running a hand through her hair.

‘Well, you can’t take my soul now, right?’ she asked. ‘Or I mean, I hope not when we’re sort of dating.’

Bill sighed. ‘I haven’t been planning on taking your soul for a while now.’

She lifted her head at that. ‘Oh? How long’s that then?’ How long had he liked her for?

He shot her a disgruntled look. ‘Not important.’ He looked aside. ‘I won’t take your soul but that also means I can’t move on to take anybody else’s. We demons can never have more than one unfinished contract going at a time, it’s a rule.’

‘You said there was some sort of scoreboard….’ She mumbled, frowning. ‘And you were in the lead?’

He nodded, staring up ahead at the ceiling. ‘I was. I’m not anymore. Daemonicus has taken over the lead spot.’

‘Sorry.’

He scoffed. ‘Like I care. If he wants to be the next Lucifer he can be, he’ll be horrible at it.’

‘But don’t you want to be Lucifer?’

Bill clenched his jaw. ‘I do.’ His golden gaze wandered across to her. ‘But I want you more.’

Mabel melted at that because why wouldn’t she? ‘That’s so romantic,’ she breathed, leaning down to kiss him.

Bill hummed, lips moving across her jawline and throat. ‘Tell me, do you want us to go away somewhere it’s just the two of us?’

She relaxed under his gentle touch. ‘Mhmm, that sounds nice.’ She released a small noise of surprise when he suddenly switched their positions, straddling her form on the sofa. Not that she was complaining. She grinned up at him as she tugged his tie playfully. ‘It can be like a couple’s vacation.’

He smiled from beneath tousled locks of hair as he leaned down to kiss her throat again. ‘Just you and me,’ he whispered, and she sighed happily.

‘Forever.’

She froze.

‘What?’

Bill sighed, pulling back to regard her with a resigned expression.

‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked, searching his face. ‘Bill?’

He paused before speaking. ‘Every time a new Lucifer is coronated, they choose the way demon kind is ruled for the next ten thousand years. The current contender Daemonicus has made it very clear that his platforms main priority is the enslaving of humanity for the betterment of demons. There are many unhappy with our current leader due to his stance on us remaining in the shadows and granting humankind the freedom to do as they wish.’

Mabel’s blood went cold.

‘The next Lucifer will be crowed tomorrow,’ Bill declared, expression sombre. ‘And with it, humanity will be thrown into chaos and destruction.’ He reached out, cradling her chin with his hand. ‘That’s why I need to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere they won’t find you.’

Mabel felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. ‘But what about everyone else? What about my family? My friends? My brother?’

Bill averted his gaze. ‘I can’t save them. I’m already taking on enough of a risk just by hiding you.’

Mabel pushed herself to sit up, causing him to fall back on the sofa. Mabel blinked rapidly, soaking in all this information. ‘So, you’re saying unless you take my soul, the whole of humanity will be enslaved and tortured for the next ten thousand years?’

‘Pretty much,’ he replied.

That was a heavy pill to swallow. She thought to her family and friends, chewing her lower lip frantically before she raised her head to meet his gaze. He already seemed to know what she was going to say.  ‘Then I’ll do it, I’ll make a deal with you.’

‘No.’

She blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘I’m not taking your soul,’ he retorted. ‘I refuse.’

‘But you have to!’

‘Actually, I don’t,’ he replied, gaze steely.

Mabel scowled at him. ‘Fine. But I’m not going away with you. I refuse to hide whilst those I love are being tortured. I’d rather die fighting by their side than hiding like a coward.’

Bill’s expression darkened. ‘You can’t do that.’

‘Actually, I can,’ she snapped back, mocking his earlier words. The pair both glared at one another stubbornly, neither willing to back down.

Eventually, Bill sighed. ‘Even if I was to take your soul, it’s no use anymore. I’d still lose.’

Her heart sank. ‘How come?’

Bill snapped his fingers and a magical visual of a scoreboard appeared. ‘Daemonicus has outdone himself these past few months I’ve been playing around with you. Look at the little tyke, he’s gone way past me.’ Mabel regarded the name “Daemonicus” above “Bill Cipher”. Next to them were runes which she assumed were the equivalent of numbers for points, but she couldn’t translate what they said.

‘Is there no way?’ she asked, desperate. ‘I mean, you once said every time I turned you down my soul gained more value right? I can just reject you a thousand times!’

Bill chuckled. ‘Even if that would work we don’t have time for that, the deadline is in a couple of hours.’ His expression grew weary. ‘I wanted to keep it from you until the last minute so you wouldn’t be sad longer than necessary.’

Her heart sank. ‘So that’s it? There’s no other way to get you more points for my soul?’

Bill paused. ‘…No.’

Her eyes narrowed at that, leaning forward. ‘You hesitated.’ When he averted his gaze from her, she leaned even closer, pressing her body against his whilst boring holes into his face. ‘Bill. Tell me dammit.’ She raised her hands threateningly. ‘Or else I’ll tickle you.’

‘Okay, fine.’

She grinned. Triumph. That grin dampened however when he turned to regard her, face sombre.

‘In every contract we grant a human there is a certain clause that is very important,’ he explained. ‘It sets out how many years a human is granted before we claim their soul. The standard amount is ten years. For those that are more desperate, we can negotiate it down to as little as a few years. For others that are more reluctant, we add on a few more decades to entice the offer. Depending on how many years they get alters how many points we get.’

Mabel soaked in this information. ‘So, you’re saying if I made a deal with you where I only got a few years, you’d get more points?’

‘That’s how it works.’

‘Enough to beat Daemonicus?’

‘Nah.’

Her shoulders slumped. ‘What?’ Just how far ahead was this other guy?

Bill clasped his hands together, staring down at them in his lap. ‘Right now, to come out top you’d need to alter the clause in your contract to even less time.’

She swallowed thickly. ‘So, what are we talking, like a year?’

Silence.

‘A month?’

More silence. Her heart hammered wildly.

‘A w-week?’

Bill finally met her eyes. ‘I’d need to claim your soul immediately.’

Oh.

‘Wow,’ she whispered. ‘So no time to even watch an episode of my latest sitcom, huh?’ she joked, trying to deflect the growing sense of devastation. She wouldn’t even have time to say goodbye to her family.

‘See, that’s why I didn’t want to say it,’ Bill groaned, running a hand through his hair.

‘W-Why? I’ll still do it,’ she stammered, even as tears welled in her eyes. If it meant her soul vs all of humanity then the answer was obvious right? This way she could protect all her loved ones.

‘Of course you will,’ he snapped, glaring. ‘You’re too kind for your own good. Which is exactly why I didn’t want to say it. Don’t you get it? You mean more to me than anything else right now!’

Mabel took his hands in her own, staring down at their joined. ‘You have to take my soul,’ she whispered. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll hate you forever.’ She glanced up at him through her bangs, tears blurring her vision. She couldn’t live with herself if her loved ones were tortured when she could have stopped it. And she wouldn’t forgive him either.

Bill’s expression cracked and she saw the desperation in his gaze as he fought back tears. ‘Please don’t make me do this,’ he begged, clutching her hands tighter. ‘Let’s go back to how it was a short while ago when we were fooling around.’

Mabel shook her head, sniffling. ‘We can’t. It’s time to make a deal.’ She lowered her head so she wouldn’t have to see the look of heartbreak she knew he wore on his face, because she did too.

Several minutes passed before he spoke, voice eerily emotionless. Almost as if he’d cast aside his emotions to make it through what came next. ‘….Okay, fine. Mabel Pines, state your wish.’ There was a soft thud as the large pile of contract papers landed on the coffee table beside them. She glanced aside at them, a tear falling down her cheek as she regarded the pen and place for signature.

Sorry Dipper, but she was breaking her promise.

.

‘…2, 1, 0!’

Cheers erupted throughout the crowd as the counter hit zero, the scoreboard showing none other than Bill Cipher of the First Hierarchy as the winner. Nobody had expected him to get back on top at the last second but somehow against all odds he’d managed it.

‘Bill Cipher, congratulations,’ the feminine pink demon said, speaking into a mic on stage. ‘You are our new Lucifer for the next ten thousand years. It was certainly a ride this past year! News reports show his last contract was a mighty stubborn one! Though when you reveal her family line has several esteemed Exorcists, once can’t be too surprised. Indeed, the human resisted until the last very second with our new ruler before finally giving in. And in a rare show, she accepted a contract with zero time between signature and soul claim which was the action required to give him just enough bonus points to secure the leadership! I think we can all agree our new ruler is a one of a kind and is sure to bring in a new age benefiting demonkind! Let’s all give him a round of applause!!’

Bill sat atop his throne with a crown on his head, residing within his new palace benefiting a King of Hell. He listened as the news demon on television continued to praise his actions to the cheering crowds outside.

But none of it mattered.

He’d had to claim the soul of the girl he loved. Her lifeless body was still in her apartment laying on the sofa, though by now her friends must have found her after the anonymous message he left them. He wondered how her brother would react to the news.

‘In return for my soul, I want you to treat humanity kindly for the next thousand years.’

She was selfless even in the end.

Luckily, her contracted wish had only covered humanity.

She never specified how he had to treat the demon kind who had forced his hand in killing her to begin with.

His expression darkened as her regarded the scores of demons waiting outside his palace.

He had ten thousand years to kill millions of demons.

Good thing the honey pot had finally run dry.

AN: I want to remind you – you asked for the angst inclusion! Mabel’s death is contingent on that request!! Don’t shoot the writer!!

[spartanguard]

even death won’t part us now (5/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

rated M | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 | 6.1k words

A/N: Brace yourself for some feelz, friends; that’s all I can say about this chapter. (There’s just...a LOT of emotion. You’ll see ;) ) Eternal thanks, as always, to @optomisticgirl​​​​ for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair​​​​ for her amazing art (LOOK AT THAT AHHHHHHH); and to @kmomof4​​​​ and @cssns​​​​ for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

if you’ve ever seen AVPM/S, I’d like you to imagine Draco Malfoy singing the Anita part and that’s what my high school’s production of West Side Story was like

part five: tonight, there will be no morning star

The skyscraper was a wonderful invention; a marvel of modern engineering. The ability to construct a building all the way into the clouds was one of the many things Gold was glad he had lived long enough to see. He’d been impressed enough when the Equitable Life Building opened in 1870; the balcony he stood on now was at least five times higher in the sky.

It was a good thing his sense of vertigo was long-dead, else he might not be able to spend as much time out here, looking down on the city, as he did. It made him feel like some modern monarch, surveying his kingdom from on high. In reality, it was much more complicated than that, though he’d spent long enough building his empire that it wasn’t far-fetched to call it a dynasty.

He sometimes lamented that his efforts would never be documented in history books; how he’d spent centuries working away right under the noses of the mortals, and they remained oblivious. Maybe he’d make that his next project. Surely there was some suffering, underappreciated writer he could bribe with immortality...ah, but not tonight. There’d be time for that later. First, he had to weather whatever was coming.

He wasn’t quite sure what it was, but something in the air was different tonight; a sense of anticipation was floating on the wind, carried along by the brine of the ocean. He tapped his fingers on the rail of the balcony but was unable to tap down on what it was precisely.

“Hello, Rumple,” a voice he’d never be able to forget said from somewhere above.

Ah, perhaps that was it then; he always had a sense for when she was around. “I thought I smelled betrayal and cheap wine on the breeze. Good evening, Cora.”

The woman dropped from the roof above, landing gracefully on the terrace without even wrinkling her pantsuit. Her style had always edged on sharp, though this seemed surprisingly simple for her; he recalled bigger shoulder pads the last time he’d seen her—what was it, ‘85?

 “You seem awfully calm considering what’s about to happen tonight,” she said, ignoring the jibe. Ah well, it was worth a shot; he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of her since 1621, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

He scoffed. “What, a minor scuffle? Two lads having it out over a couple blocks of territory? Seems to me it’s far more personal than anything that would actually mean something.” He’d had to restrain himself from chuckling when Jones told him about the fight; they had no idea.

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown so dense that you don’t realize what this means,” she preened.

He wanted to call her bluff, but if there was one thing he’d learned in over 400 years of dealing with Cora, is that she rarely did. “Enlighten me.”

“It means your underlings are growing restless and tired of this. Mine too. And I’d rather not have this end the way it did last time that happened.” ‘Last time’ being a bloody war; they were able to hide it from the mortals within the confines of the American Revolution but it was a near miss. He’d began rebuilding his ranks immediately; she’d taken her time. And here they were now.

“Chaos has always been my friend, dearie; I can’t say I’d be too upset if it broke out now.”

“While I wouldn't mind it either, I’d be watching your back a bit more closely. Didn’t Jones bring up something...rather interesting earlier?”

Somehow, a chill ran down his unfeeling spine—not just at what Jones had asked about, but the fact that she seemed to know about it as well. “It’s nothing; just a myth. It’s not possible.”

“Please. Think of everything we’ve seen, everything we’ve been through together. Nothing is impossible.”

“I’ve made sure of it.”

“Have you?”

She was always good at poking his buttons. And he was done with it.

“Go. And never come back.”

She had to obey, at least, and he took a small thrill in the way she involuntarily started to climb over the balcony’s railing. “Fine. I just thought I was doing you a favor, but I see it’s not wanted. See you in another 30 years, Rumple.”

She let go and fell back; he didn’t watch to see what happened when she hit the ground. He wouldn’t put it past her to frame him for murder, but she had a different angle this time.

Even though she’d left, that sense of apprehension lingered. Something was indeed coming, something that would change things in his world—but what?

And why did he get the sense Jones was involved?

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

The sun wasn’t even below the horizon before Emma left home, shouting a quick “goodbye and good luck” over her shoulder as she headed out into the evening. If she were in her normal skip-tracing clothes (aka her normal clothes), she’d be running across rooftops to get to Granny’s in no time flat. But no, this was a honeypot, so she had to walk, lest she break the only pair of heels she could actually move in without pain. (That was one thing she’d been dismayed to discover: heels still hurt, even if she recovered faster.)

Still, she powerwalked to Granny’s in record time. “Evening, Emma,” the old wolf called out. “The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied, slipping onto her normal stool at the fairly empty counter. It was weird—for a place known to so many, it always seemed to be fairly empty. She had to guess that last night’s meeting was the most crowded it had been in ages. Or maybe that was just part of the magic of the diner.

If she had to guess, the guy at the booth on the other side of the room was a werewolf, based on scent alone; and there was what looked like a fairy bachelorette party at the large booth in the corner. (Not to be confused with fae—she made that mistake once and only once.) Being the only vampire, it was kind of nice to feel like the odd person out for a change. Though she hoped that changed soon.

“Order up!” Granny was suddenly in front of her with a plate of one of the few things on the menu Emma could eat: onion rings. (Onions that had been soaked in blood overnight, mind you, but that was enough for her to be able to stomach them.)

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she effused, and then moaned as she bit into one. “Have I ever told you you’re a genius?”

“It’s been mentioned once or twice. When does lover boy get here?”

As incredible as it was, Emma almost spat out the bite. “Excuse me?”

“Girl, you think I didn’t smell you all over him last night? He covered it up well enough for the others not to notice, but I know better.”

First Zelena, now Granny; they were both going to have to invest in industrial-strength body spray if they were going to keep this under wraps for the time being.

“Calm down; I won’t tell.” But she leaned in across the counter and lowered her voice. “But if you need a place to meet in secret, you know I have rooms upstairs. And I promise not to listen too close.”

“Thanks; I’ll, uh, keep it in mind,” Emma stammered, then hid her embarrassment in another bloody onion ring. Granny, unsurprisingly, cackled and walked away.

It would take more than a voyeuristic wolf to keep her from enjoying fried deliciousness, though, and she savored every bite—being glad she was wearing a red dress in case of drips (Deadpool totally stole that from her, as far as she was concerned)—until there were just two left: the most perfect, juicy, crispiest ones of the bunch. But suddenly, there was only one. And she also wasn’t alone at the counter anymore.

Two seats away, Killian sat with one of her onion rings, taking a slow bite that had her mouth watering in other ways; the way his tongue swiped away the bit of blood that escaped his lips was almost arousing enough to overlook the theft. Almost.

“All those manners and no one taught you to ask nicely?”

“I told you I was a pirate,” he tossed back, taking another bite. “Not a whole lot of ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ going on there.”

“I highly doubt you ever pillaged anything as precious as those, though.” She started to stand up to close the distance between them, but he threw her a warning look out of the corner of his eye that made her pause. 

“We’re in public,” he muttered with his mouth full. Damn, he was right; even if no one from either coven was here now, that could easily change. Which was really annoying because as good as his rum-flavored kisses tasted last night, she liked onion rings even more. And, you know, they probably had some business to discuss—like whatever Zelena had been talking about.

As if on cue, Granny slipped past again, but this time tossing a key (with a rather ostentatious keyring) onto the counter in front of her as she went to address her new customer. There was a room number written on it in Sharpie; Emma memorized the number and slipped the key into her lap as she sat back down. (While also making a mental note to try to find some sexy dresses with pockets.) 

The appeal of her last onion ring waned given that there was something far more delicious-smelling a few feet away, so she scarfed it down, threw some cash on the counter, and then headed to the hallway that led upstairs. Granny definitely did better business in the diner than her inn, and it wasn’t anything special, but it was clean, which Emma couldn’t say about a lot of other places she’d been; her skps really loved the city’s roach motels. (Something told Emma the very nature of her host kept most vermin far from the premises.)

Room 305 was simple, sparse, but had a decent-sized mattress with a sturdy frame, and a clean bathroom. All she needed was the privacy, though.

She’d hardly tossed her purse and the key on the room’s table when a soft knock fell on the door; she wouldn’t have heard it if she was still human. She turned back and, out of habit, glanced through the room’s peephole; she was already getting a whiff of spicy and salty air through the door, but this was still the city and you couldn’t be too careful. But of course it was Killian on the other side, peering up at the door through his crazy long lashes.

She didn’t wait any longer to pull it open, and nearly as soon as she had, he was on top of her, claiming her lips with his and damn, she was right—onion rings tasted as good on his lips as they did on her tongue. (But his tongue tasted even better.)

Somehow, the door was shut behind them and while she wasn’t quite sure who was leading, they pressed together from tip to toe until they fell against the plush—and noisy—mattress, sinking in with a loud squeak of ancient steel.

“Should have known Granny would want to hear something like that,” he chuckled. “Saucy old wolf.”

“Eh, let her listen.” Emma’s own arousal was climbing too fast for her to care, and she pounced on Killian again, wrapping a leg around him and pressing her core against his. He was definitely eager, too, she could tell; it was kind of funny how, out of all the bodily functions that ended when a person transitioned to a vampire, arousal was the one that remained unchanged. She’d had her fair share of flings in her afterlife, but no one had her as keyed up as Killian did with so little effort.

His hand wandered down her side, squeezing her waist and then pulling her rear impossibly closer, before toying with the hem of her dress. “I thought last night’s dress was rather demure for you,” he said between kisses, “but this one is positively sinful.”

“Good. Means work will go fast tonight. Horny bond skips usually fall for it pretty fast.”

“I can see why. I’d tell you to be careful, but I feel like it would be better to warn your prey.”

“Emma Swan always gets her man.”

“What a lovely motto.”

“True so far. And that includes right now.” She sucked a line of kisses down his sharp jaw to the juncture of his neck, drawing a delicious moan from him. “Do you have one?”

“Aye,” he breathed, eyes squinted shut as if trying to regain his thoughts. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”

“And what is it you want?”

He opened his eyes—clear blue even in the dingy yellow light. “You, love. Just you.”

How could she do anything but kiss him within an inch of his afterlife?

Everything that followed was a rush of sensation rather than any coherent thought:

The brush of his beard against her neck, the firmness of his chest beneath her hands (as well as that of his ass), each graze of his fingers against her thigh as they moved her dress up. 

The way his weight settled above her in a way that was both oppressive and comforting, the dance of fingers as they undid his fly (she wasn’t even sure whose all were involved in that), the bob of his cock as it sprang free from denim confines.

How something so hard could feel so soft in her hand—nearly enough to make him come undone on touch alone, but she’d be damned if she let that happen. (Or, well, damned more than she probably already was going to be.) How, for the first time in 15 years, she genuinely felt flushed.

It was all she could do to shove her lace panties aside and guide him home, and oh—she didn’t have the words for what that felt like: to be filled so perfectly it could have brought tears to her eyes (you know, if her tear ducts still worked). 

And then he moved and—holy shit. Her fangs dropped down on their own accord again but she couldn’t be bothered to care this time; hell, all she wanted to do was sink her teeth into him, but she’d have to settle with using a heel to press him back in.

“You feel incredible, darling,” he murmured, slightly lisping—his fangs had dropped too. Maybe she hadn’t learned all there was to know about vampire biology. But that could be dealt with later; right now, she just needed him, and to find the release that was inching closer painfully slowly.

“So do you,” she whispered. “But it feels amazing when you move.”

“As you wish,” he said into her ear, his breath somehow feeling hot on it, and he complied. They started slow, careful presses in and out to find their rhythm, then picking up speed and power. She really hoped the bed frame would hold up (Twilight did get that part right) and was sure Granny was getting a good show, but she put any other wonderings into finding his lips again, the play of teeth and tongues and lips coinciding with the meeting of other body parts.

It felt like a slow climb—something she was used to in post-mortem relations—but then the precipice came out of nowhere and she was suddenly falling, gasping into Killian’s mouth as her release carried her away, though she held his shoulders with an iron grip to keep from floating too far.

He wasn’t far behind, she felt, and his fingers would have left imprints on her side were they still capable of being bruised. She felt his release spill inside her as his movements stuttered until he was done, slipping out and falling next to her on his back.

It was probably some long-buried instinct that left them feeling out of breath after sex, but Emma was pretty sure she was sweating. Dead or alive, that had been one of the greatest orgasms of her life—and, honestly, sex was so much easier while undead, what with the whole not needing birth control or being worried about STIs. But this—this was something else.

“I do have to admit, that wasn’t my initial aim in following you up here,” Killian said, pulling her into his side. “But I’m not complaining.”

“I think we’d have some issues if you were. You seemed very enthusiastic about it.”

“And how could I not be?” he smirked, turning to look at her. But then his smile fell, and he pressed his thumb against her lips; it came back red. “Apologies, love; did I hurt you?”

She licked her lips and tasted the copper. “No; I hadn’t even noticed. It might have been self-inflicted,” she said, pressing her tongue against her own still-exposed canines. “I wish I knew why that kept happening.”

“It’s just the effect I have on you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Her normal MO when flirting was to refute a statement like that, but...why lie? “I’ve been waiting to see you all day.”

“I can tell.” She lightly slapped his shoulder, and he chuckled at the reaction. “I felt the same way; I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“A day is a lot less than 15 years. It dragged but I managed. Thank you for not murdering my dad last night.”

“That wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly. And if anyone was going to do any assassination last night, it would have been Graham killing me.”

Ugh, of course he would; she groaned. “Sorry; he can’t take a hint. You make out with a guy once twelve years ago and apparently he keeps a flame lit for the next decade.”

“I can hardly blame him, especially knowing how you kiss.” His thumb again traced her lips, which had healed by now, and god, the reverence in that gentle gesture was nearly as overwhelming as her orgasm. But then his brow furrowed. “You don’t suppose true love’s kiss is real, do you?”

Emma blinked, confused; where had that come from? “No, probably not, though I wouldn't dare say that around my mom—she most likely believes in it. Why?”

“Granny mentioned something to me last night after the meeting, and I did some research today...were you also aware the prophecies were real?”

“No, I was not.” Though surprised, she listened as Killian told her about Gold and his powers—actual, honest-to-god, dark magical powers—and the prophecy that spelled his end. She wasn’t too surprised that it was kept under wraps, especially given what she’d learned from Zelena last night (which Killian somehow did not know, which made her feel like less of a newb for once).

But most shocking was the fact that Kililan thought she was the one the prophecy talked about. “Fuck.”

“That’s a succinct way of putting it.”

“I don’t word good, so the fewer, the better.” Quips aside, she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the whole thing. “So I might be the only person that can kill Gold and end this whole feud? That’s….a lot.”

“I know, but I want you to know it’s not a burden you carry alone.”

And then the other half hit her: true love. Did that mean…? “So...that’s us? That means we’re—”

“Maybe,” he said softly, probably sensing her panic. She couldn’t deny that she had deep feelings for Killian, but true love? That was...that was her parents, that was fairy tales; that didn’t happen to her.

“I don’t want all that,” she whispered. “I just want to be with you; I don’t want to be responsible for ending some centuries-long feud.” 

“I know, love,” he murmured, and pulled her close; she was nestled into the crook of his neck and other than her dad’s patented hugs, she’s never felt so safe. “It’s not for certain; just a theory, and you’re under no obligation to act on it. But if you choose to, know that I’m here beside you each step of the way.”

“Or we can just run off; go hide in the woods upstate or something. Or Maine—or even Canada; they’d never find us there.”

“Not likely, no,” he chuckled; she could feel the vibration of it through his collarbone onto her cheek. “Maybe a cottage by the seaside somewhere? Some remote little beach?”

“Mm, sounds perfect.” Her parents would understand, right? And even if they didn’t….well, they could deal. “Let’s just do that right now. Let me go catch this skip, and then I’ll pack my bags and we can go.”

She felt more than saw his smile. “As much as I’d love that, I’m afraid I have some other things to attend to this evening.”

Oh right, the fight—how could she forget? “I guess that brawl is kind of pointless then, isn’t it?”

“Aye; perhaps why Gold seemed unperturbed by the idea.”

“Then what’s the point in letting it happen? Do you think you can stop it?” It was probably because she was fairly young and hadn’t been fully indoctrinated to the cause, but the thought of an inconsequential fight that had even a slight chance of becoming something worse—because, with the way tensions ran, that was alway a possibility—made her really nervous.

“I’ll certainly try; I agree, I don’t like the thought of unnecessary fighting, either.” And he’d probably seen more than his fair share of it. “Whatever happens, I’ll come find you when it’s all done—I promise.”

“I will hunt you down if you don’t.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

She kissed him again, slower and sweeter than before. “Ugh, I don’t want to go, but this skip will pay rent for a month.”

“I don’t want you to go, but it’d be ungentlemanly to make you late for work.”

“Do you always have to be one?”

“Yes.” 

She sighed. “Fine.”

Thankfully, they had enough time for one more make out, and she was already making a mental note to hit a drug store later for some perfume; his scent was probably embedded in her pores at this point. (She also mentioned he might want to do the same; he said he’d stop by his apartment before heading to the fight.)

Eventually, they righted themselves and made their way out of the room, pausing for one last, slow kiss in the hallway after locking the door.

“Not a moment will go by I don’t think of you,” Killian murmured, but he may as well have shouted it for as hard as it hit her. 

“Good,” she replied, hoping he heard how much she meant the same thing back.

With one final peck, she dashed out the back door and into the night, off to whatever seedy bar she was finding the scumbag-of-the-week. Hopefully, this would be a quick one—she already missed Killian.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

For a moment after Emma left, Killian stood stock still in the hallway, Emma’s scent lingering around him as his fingers traced the feel of her lips on his. That was not at all how he anticipated this encounter to go—he was fairly old fashioned in some senses, especially when it came to someone he wanted to court properly—but any complaint had died before he could give it voice. In a way, they were just making up for lost time, he supposed. 

And he would see to it that they weren’t limited in that regard ahead. 

Granny gave a lascivious wink when he placed the key on the counter in the diner, and he was sure she’d have more to say were the evening crowd (as it were) not filling up the place. He used that to his advantage and took his leave, even though he still had a few hours until he was due anywhere.

He spent a bit of time at the docks, mulling over how they’d changed over the years (and eyeing the ships for sale; he’d had to sell his last one and was in the market for something new, especially if a quick getaway might be needed at some point), before keeping his promise to Emma and stopping at his apartment for some fresh cologne to cover her scent. How no one had noticed it the night before was a mild miracle, but adrenaline would be running strong tonight and senses would be on high alert.

(He so loathed to erase the evidence of her on his person, though.)

There was still time to kill, so he walked slowly (well, for him) in the direction of the lot, even patiently waiting for crossing lights to indicate the all clear rather than dart out early like most New Yorkers did. He should probably find a snack, since he didn’t get to finish his drink at Granny’s; a hunger-like pang was stirring within, but there wasn’t enough time for that now.

The lot was mostly empty when he arrived, and the street oddly quiet; at least that boded well for this rendezvous—and perhaps he’d be able to maintain the peace.

As he got closer, a pinprick of light burned out of the darkness; it took but a millisecond for his eyes to adjust and see that Robin was waiting, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“You’ll smoke yourself into an early grave,” Killian scolded lightly, as he’d done many times before.

“Tis a pity I never got the chance, then, aye?” Robin tossed back. He and his wife had been emigrating to America in the mid-1800s when scarlet fever broke out on their ship; his wife and unborn child didn’t make it, but somehow, Gold had been aboard, and turned Robin before the disease claimed him as well. 

In life, Robin had never had the money to maintain a tobacco habit, but once he found himself with unlimited time—and lungs that would never damage—he’d taken it up with gusto. 

“Just don’t let me catch you vaporizing, or whatever it is,” Killian teased.

“Vaping, and no, never.”

They waited in companionable silence as Robin finished his cigarette and started on another. That caught Killian’s interest; while smoking might be a favored hobby for Robin, he’d never been known to indulge in chain smoking—unless he was nervous.

Footsteps on the other end of the lot drew their attention; David, Graham, and the others (though thankfully not Zelena) stepped from the shadows. At the sight, the twisting in his gut coiled again, and an ancient feeling washed over him: trepidation. He hadn’t felt that since...god, not since Yorktown.

And that clearly ended well. (He thought to himself, sarcastically.)

He couldn’t pinpoint a reason for his sense of dread; it was certainly not the first time the two teams had gone head-to-head (even if he hoped it might be the last). He couldn’t count the number of lives lost to the feud over the centuries—thankfully few innocent ones, but the number of siblings-in-arms sacrificed to the cause was far too high.

He’d never been nervous before any of those encounters. So why was this one giving him anxiety?

(Because so much was riding on this. Because he didn’t want to let Emma down.)

Will and Henry appeared out of nowhere, suddenly behind them, and if it was possible for the scene to get even more silent, it did. The men were lined up shoulder to shoulder in two opposing lines; it was like the standoff in a terrible spaghetti western, but without the benefit of a Morricone score.

The tension was palpable as they all stood stone-still, waiting for the other side to make any sort of move. It would have been the perfect time for Killian to intervene—convince them all to back down—but he was too worried that even so much as a pin drop would make waves.

In the end, it turned out to be the drop of cigarette ash that sent things into motion; Robin’s burnt end had barely hit the ground before he and Graham were on top of each other, snarling and slashing in the middle of the carpark.

An outsider would have thought it was some strange dance, or possibly performance art, with the way they clamored at each other but never seemed to land any blows. But Killian’s keen eyes could see each dodge of a body from a clawing limb, their extended fangs thirsting for blood, and the way Graham curled inward when Robin landed a first, firm punch on the other man’s stomach; that finally drew Killian from his stupor.

“No; that’s enough!” he shouted, then put himself between them. “We don’t need to do this.”

Despite his advanced age, he didn’t have as much an advantage over the two of them as he thought he did; they simply jumped away and continued. Before he could step in again, a firm hand had him by the shoulder.

“Hey, this was your idea; what kind of power grab is this?” David growled; his other hand was curled into a fist. Should have known he’d be itching for a fight, too.

“You really think this will solve anything?” Killian spat. “Our bosses don’t care; this goes way beyond us, mate.”

Killian threw him off and made for the other two, who were now wrapped in what he guessed was some sort of wrestling move, arms gripped on the other’s shoulders. But before he got all the way there, David jumped in front of him.

“I’m not your mate.” David was glaring and trying to use his height advantage to intimidate, but Killian wouldn’t dare hurt the father of his love, even if he was his opponent at the moment.

“Fine, but I’m not your enemy either; you don’t even know what you’re fighting for.”

“You think I don’t know?” Now he was moving toward Killian—though, over his shoulder, he could see that Robin had landed another punch, this time on Graham’s chest. “Aurum turned me and my wife against our will. Aurum made our daughter grow up without her parents. You just take and take, and do whatever you want without facing the consequences. And now, what—you think you can get out of them because you might lose?” The irony in that statement, of course, being that Robin had now hit Graham in the jaw, who had paused to cradle his sore chin.

“But you have her now; doesn’t that count for anything?” Killian pleaded.

He realized as soon as he said it that he’d made a grave error. David stopped, taken aback. “How did you know that?” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Killian didn’t take the time to answer; with any luck, that would be explained later. He jumped on the opportunity presented and dashed toward Robin and Graham again, pushing Robin away as he was about to make what would likely be the winning blow. 

“Bloody hell, mate,” Robin sputtered, and Killian was about to reply, except he was suddenly face down on the pavement after something that felt vaguely like a foot hit him in the back.

“What game are you playing, Jones?” David yelled from above, giving Killian a good idea of who had attacked him. He was back on his feet in an instant, and so were the rest of the gangs, all around them. Fuck; so much for not bringing anyone else in.

It was Robin’s turn to step in front of Killian. “Are you trying to start a rumble, Nolan?”

“I didn’t start anything, but I will if that’s what you want.” Next to him, Graham pulled a suspiciously long, slender object from a pocket, and the subsequent swish of the weapon confirmed: he had a switchblade.

And a second later, Robin had pulled his own out. 

They were immediately back on top of each other, with the others egging them on— “Right in the heart, Robin!” “Go for the neck, Graham!”

Killian’s lone attempt to pull Graham back (he was the closest to him at the time) ended with him also being pulled away by Jefferson; he and David restrained Killian and while he might have been able to shake off one of them, the two of them together were too much. He had to watch helplessly as the two in the center continued to swipe at each other, blades glinting dangerously in the murky streetlights.

It was still only until first blood, right? And that was bound to happen faster now that sharp edges were involved.

Almost in slow motion, he watched as the tip of Robin’s blade sliced at Graham’s cheek, leaving behind a thin line of red. He sighed in relief, little as he needed that breath; that was it—it was done.

David and Jefferson loosened their grip on him and he shook them off, not withholding a glare in David’s direction. He then turned to face Robin, to get him—all of them—out of there as quickly as possible, but his voice got stuck in his throat.

While Robin had barely relaxed, let down his guard for the briefest of seconds, Graham lunged at him and sank his blade into Robin’s chest.

Into Robin’s heart.

The world stood still for a moment as everyone stared in shock, and the reality of what just happened washed over Killian. It wasn’t until Graham jerked the blade free, dripping blood—Robin’s blood—on the ground, that he was jolted enough from his stupor to move.

“No!” Killian screamed, then ran to his friend just as he collapsed. “No, no, no,” he muttered, pressing a hand against Robin’s wound, but there was no use for it—a vampire was just as susceptible to that kind of stabbing as a mortal was.

Robin was gasping for air, useless as it was, as his lifeblood spilled out onto the asphalt below him, quite literally draining the life from him; little would be left in a few moments but ash and memories. If Killian could cry, he’d have been sobbing.

“Tell—tell ‘gina—” Robin stammered, but was quickly losing energy.

He knew what he was asking, anyways. “I’ll tell Regina,” he promised.

With his last bit of strength, Robin wrapped his hand around Killian’s and squeezed, smiling, as death finally came for him. It was fast—too fast, but wounds like that always led to a quick death.  It wasn’t the first time Killian had held another person as they disintegrated in his hold, but it was by far the most painful. And the most unwarranted.

The dust that had been Robin settled in the air around him, landing on his hand where blood was still fresh. In more ways than one, Killian began to see red.

Without thinking, he grabbed Robin’s abandoned switchblade and in one swift moment, stood and shoved it at Graham, instinctively finding his most vulnerable spot.

Graham stammered back, pulling the weapon out—and hastening his own demise. All too quickly, he collapsed on his knees, his team gathering around him, and a moment later, he too was ash.

A sharp wind off the ocean blew Graham’s remains toward Killian, bringing with them the realization of what he had done:

He’d killed a member of Emma’s coven—practically her family.

And he’d done nothing to end the feud; if anything, he escalated it.

Bloody fuck, what had he done?

And what could he do now?

He stared in horror at the blood around him, trying to formulate a plan, when Will blessedly broke the fragile silence.

“Rozzers!” he shouted, then began to run, only to see no one else move. “Cops?” he translated into American English, which got the reaction he was looking for; everyone hopped to their feet and ran. No one wanted to explain this scene to mortal police.

Everyone but Killian. He wondered if his feet had become concrete, he was so rooted in place. It wasn’t until Will was in his face, urging him to move, that he did.

“Do you have somewhere to lay low? I don’t think Coroza is gonna let this one go,” he asked as they dashed from the lot.

His thoughts immediately turned to Emma, suicidal as that likely was. Could he drag her into this? Or would that be the least likely place they’d look?

He’d have to risk it. “Aye, I do.”

“Alright, then go; the less I know the better. Good luck, mate,” Will told him, then ran in another direction; belatedly, Killian realized, headed toward where Belle lived. 

There was no time to dwell on that, though, and he changed course to head uptown. He had no idea what lay ahead, but he knew one thing: whatever it was, he wanted Emma at his side.

(Assuming, that is, she forgave him.)

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @snowbellewells​ @idristardis​ @scientificapricot​ @searchingwardrobes​ @donteattheappleshook​ @lfh1226-linda​

[hardcoreprocess]

Dave and Vriska numberjack a bar.

With absolute confidence and a hand pulling her hair over one shoulder to rake fingers through, Vriska smirks down at him. Ignoring the blatant tic, he refocuses. His shades don’t hide the dart from claws to face, but she doesn’t mention it. Probably out of the “goodness” of her heart.

Her words, not his.

"It’s pretty simple, Strider. Whoever gets the most numbers, wins! It’s like a silly little game, with practically no risk. Doesn’t that appeal to your delicate sensibilities?"

Dave doesn’t bite just yet. Instead, he prods for information: “Wins... what, exactly? Not even gonna sweeten the honeypot— or any regular pot— with a prize?” With loose fists stuffed well into his jeans, he refuses to cede ground here. During the negotiation process? Please. He has better things to do, like blistering her ass in this competitive binge.

Naturally, she's rolling her eyes at him. Of course his first instinct is questioning her motivations! Vriska looks thoroughly annoyed, in part because they're hashing out silly details before entering the bar! She could be garnering an advantage here, inside, scoping out potential suckers for a head start. The bastard stands firm, watching her watch him until she folds.

Much to her chagrin, the hand is shown, arms folded defensively over her chest. "Ughhhhhhhh! Alright! Okay!!! Whoever has the most numbers by the end of our pub crawl... is treated to a super romantic dinner by the loser. And the loser has to do ANYTHING the winner wants!!!!!!"

He mulls over that, really considering his options. He could have Vriska out to a nice little mom and pop diner. Wearing that one silky blue dress, the one he’s nearly ripped off her body twice. His mouth thins into a line, trying to maintain his composure until Dave can look up again. Brows arching, self-assured.

"Sure. Game’s on, so long as you’re cool with the bitter-ass taste of defeat."

"In your dreeeeeeeeams!"

[dakotaxmp]

❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜

//

  He’s more than fine and it shows in the way that his face cracks into a wide grin. The sprinkler had gone off in front of HoneyPot and the hose, left unattended, had gone wild in it’s spraying. Dakota wasn’t much of a wrangler of wayward hoses but he does his best and in the process ends up spraying several walk-in diners, himself and Eros who had been walking up the street. The onslaught would have claimed Angela as well if he hadn’t caught the infernal thing just before she made it over to him.

   Laughter sings from his chest and he nods, “It didn’t get you did it?”

[dmux86]

for the promptathon again, would love to read the conversation/argument/personal decision that led to betty giving up honeypot missions in the spy au from five times, perhaps a character study bit.

"I just don't see what the big deal is Juggie" she said, frustrated but keeping her voice down so nobody overheard them. Her legs ached from the last mission... lots of running and jumping, thankfully no actual injuries, but Betty had also had to user her body in other ways. Not actual sex this time, but enough seduction of a wealthy old bastard to make her (secret) boyfriend, a former hacker and thief turned (unwilling) communications and IT support for a private espionage organization, upset and angry, though oddly not jealous if she was reading him correctly.

"It doesn't mean anything. I don't want them, it's just part of the job" she added, reaching out to hold his hands in hers, but he pulled away and muttered "That's exactly the problem Betts. You're so... so fucking good at your job", getting up and pacing between the unmade bed and the cluttered desk full of advanced prototypes.

"I ever tell you how they caught me?" the dark haired young man asks, finally meeting her gaze, and gets a quick shake of Betty's head in response, blonde hair back up in her preferred ponytail.

He sighs and sits down in the desk chair, and explains his past. Most of it she knows in general... drunk father, missing mother, breaking the law to keep his sister safe and fed, focusing on virtual crime rather than in person to avoid the idiotic local cops, but then he gets to the part he'd never explained before. "I was a 20 year old virgin hacker, whose only friend was my teenage sister who finally had the money and freedom to hang out with kids her age. I was such an easy mark for Tabitha... she acted like she actually cared, even claimed to be the granddaughter of the owner of a diner I practically grew up in after he died. She flirted and danced with a boy who had never even been properly kissed, and before I knew what was happening I brought her back to my place on a weekend where JB was sleeping over with a friend. By Tuesday morning I was in here, handcuffed to a chair, with Clifford explaining that if I didn't upgrade their firewall they'd make sure JB ended up with the worst possible foster parents"

There are tears in Jughead's normally cold blue eyes, mostly for the sister he hadn't seen in years and probably never would again, and Betty reached out again, pulling her lover close to whisper "It's not like that with us Juggie. I chose you for you, it's not a mission... hell it makes my real mission harder"

"What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly confused, and Betty felt her heart race as she held his gaze and decided to be completely honest with him and prove her loyalty and show her trust in him all at once. To finally admit out loud what she truly wanted... to destroy Thornhill from the inside out.

[dimancheetoile]

Counting down the days till we are one

Written for ShikaSakuWeek Hanami 2018 @shikasaku-week

Day Two: Blood/Sweat

Read on AO3

Reading this story without listening to Grizzly Man by Rockettothesky robs it of half of its soul.

She comes back from the mission with bruises around her neck and sluggish blood on her teeth. She hands over the report and goes to Ichiraku. Four bowls of ramen later, the blood has stained her chopsticks and she feels alive again.

(at first)

He signs up for honeypot missions. They send him to Kiri where he whores himself to twin sisters. They leave him bruised and bloody but not before he's snatched from them the scroll he was after. He comes back to Konoha limping but smiling.

(it's only a beginning)

She finds herself kneeling in the mud, removing handfuls of maggots from the rotting stump of a sixteen-year-old. The boy looks at her like she hang the moon in the sky. He dies with foam on his lips as the poison she slipped into his drink finishes the job. Hours later, she finds a fat, white worm in her noodles. She stares at it for an hour, entranced.

(washed in sepia colours)

An old woman stumbles and falls on him. He catches her and she slips a note in his yukata sleeve. When he goes to the address, a grinning hooker takes him to a room and shows him what he'll need to know for the next mission. The taste of leather stays in his mouth until he's in Suna, smiling shyly at the puppet master he's sent to kill. It takes him half a day to get out of the restraints, once the man has dropped dead, strangled by shadows.

(before it turns rusty)

The woman is begging her on her knees, her hands protectively wrapped around her round stomach. She's as deaf to the pleading as her kunai. The commoner chokes on her own blood while she removes the baby with care. She hands it over to a smirking father who looks at the wailing thing with bloodshot eyes. She goes home and plays with the naruto slices in her bowl.

(then it begins to morph)

The girl is trembling as he walks up to her, naked. His hand comes to her shoulder and he stirs her toward the bed. Her mother is sitting discretely behind the bamboo screen, the delicate opening meant for surveillance darkened by her stare. He kisses her neck and pushes her to the covers. She whimpers. He looks at her freckles and tries to see constellations in them.

(and the rust starts to drip)

She scratches her cheek, where the dirt is itching her. The three men in front of her try to recover their breath. She blinks, almost bored. Then she starts cutting again. They scream. It's loud. She cuts a little more, hoping they'll get quiet. Then she remembers she's supposed to make them talk. She scratches her cheek again. She's hungry.

(slimy red)

There is a fake cock in his mouth. It's a bit too large and he's having trouble breathing. He has to appreciate the detail on it, though. It tastes bitter, just like a real one. With a bit of luck, it won't hurt as much as the ones he's used to, when the noble uses it on him later.

(it was just a beginning)

She washes her hands until the water runs clear, dries it on a fluffy, white towel, and tucks back a pink hair strand behind her ear. Her mouth is painted bloody, her skin pearly white. The kimono is gorgeous, hagi colours just like tradition demands. The pins in her bun make a charming noise as she walks out of the bathroom. Even the restaurant looks delightful, earthy tones and autumn gold.

His kimono is kikyō, a perfect match to hers. He bows deep as she kneels in front of him, the varnished wood reflecting the trinkets in her hair. Diner is lovely, a combination of raw fish and vinegared rice, sea weed complimenting each dish. They exchange pleasant conversation, asking how the other has been doing since they last saw each other.

It's the third stage of courtship, so he takes her to the gardens where they walk up to the pond. He asks formal permission to enter a relationship with her, and she grants it with a delicate nod of the head, meant to display the back of the neck and the promises it brings.

They part ways with a shallow bow each and plans to meet each others' family.

(just a beginning)

It takes her almost an hour to get out of the kimono, to remove every last pin in her hair, to take off the make-up and rub off the flowery perfume. She has one foot out of the bathroom when he jumps through her open window and starts undressing. Her step never falters as she marches up to him.

She snarls in his ear and he throws her on the bed. Her arms wrap around his waist as he hovers over her. Her teeth are showing when she growls orders to hurt her. His nails leave bloody paths on her arms, before one hand wraps around her throat. She groans and hits his forearm, spitting that he's getting softer. That he should hit her harder. So he does. His elbow meets her nose and she comes when it breaks on impact.

She's gasping, the blood dripping in her mouth. She spits on the ground and wipes it, healing it just enough for the blood to clog. She doesn't touch the fracture. Instead, she wipes her hands on the sheets. Then she brushes the tip of her fingers against his neck and he lays slowly on the bed.

She kisses his jaw, drawing soft patterns on his chest. Her mouth leaves a trail of breaths and kisses, of soft reassurances. She presses her ear on his heart and listens for a few seconds, her palm caressing lazily his hip. She lowers herself slowly on him and tugs at him until he's sitting up to. She wraps her arms around his shoulder and kisses his brow, before moving her hips.

Her words are quiet and gentle in his ear. Her hands lit up green and she soothes an ache in his back. Her nose draws a star on his pulse. She breathes his name and he comes with a shudder. She doesn't move. His arms embrace her until every centimetre of their body is touching. She starts rocking slowly and he buries his nose in her neck.

(you’re mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.)

[charlehesketh-blog]

Trying to Fix Kingsman: The Golden Circle

Okay, here is some basic shit we need to fix that would have made the movie absolutely stellar (Vaughn, take fucking notes):

 - Cut the festival scene or have Eggsy put the tracker in Clara’s mouth. We still need to find out where the building in Italy is with the antidote, but maybe, just fucking maybe, we could make this less gross and uncomfortable for everybody.

 - During the argument in the bathroom, maybe Eggsy and Tilde realize that their relationship won’t work out if Tilde isn’t happy with the idea of Eggsy having to do honeypot missions. After they break up, Eggsy’s devastated, but he still completes the mission and leaves. Tilde still gets high and she gets infected, and Eggsy still gives a shit about saving her because he still cares for Tilde, even if they aren’t fucking. In the end we could have him visiting Tilde after the fact and he is given an honors ceremony for twice saving the princess and the world. 

 - Merlin lives. Keep the scene where he crawls into the diner and let Harry have a proper reaction to Merlin possibly dying. Because Harry Hart wouldn’t just fucking salute him. They’ve been friends for decades, I refuse to believe that Harry would just salute him. Of course, time is of the essence, but when Merlin crawls in without his legs (preferably after “Merlin, this is for you,” maybe Harry mc-fucking-loses-it and hugs him like he did with Eggsy earlier (I also hate that Merlin and Harry didn’t get an emotional reunion, at least a fucking hug), maybe we go all Merlahad with this shit, who knows? I just want Harry to be tearing up when he sees Merlin crawl in and for Merlin to make a snarky comment about wishing he’d gotten this before his legs were blown off.

 - Make Whiskey less of an obvious hypocrite. Address the fact that he both told Champ “not to make it personal” when talking about blue rash, and also made it personal when he wanted every drug user dead due to the actions of two. He could realize his hypocrisy, or we have him be very stubborn about his views even after he’s been proven wrong, but actually address his hypocrisy. Next, his thing with Ginger. Why didn’t he want her to be a Statesman agent? Was it due to sexism, or did he not want to see another woman he cares about get harmed? If the latter is so, then how about we have more scenes with him and Ginger? Develop their dynamic, get us to understand why he doesn’t want her to be a field agent. Maybe it’s a little of both, he thinks Ginger is too weak for the field and he also doesn’t want her dying when he could have prevented it.

 - Roxy. We gotta get Roxy back. It wouldn’t be so hard to believe she survived the explosion. Not much to this one, have a post-credits scene of Roxy rebuilding Kingsman HQ and mentioning that they’ll have to work double on recruiting new agents, leading into the new movie where we can get new recruits, and...(not quite fixing TGC, but this would be fun in the third)

 - Maybe the next one would even have Eggsy bonding with his recruit like he and Harry bonded. Another problem with this movie was that it seemed Eggsy sort of devolved as a character, making him less likable, and maybe that push he needs to become a proper, mature gentleman, is his first recruit. That could lead to Eggsy dying in the third (at least, temporarily dying, as that is a big part of these movies), with Harry as the new Arthur, Roxy in the fucking field, more Merlin being comic relief. Instead of focusing on the recruiting process like we did in the first film, how about we focus on how the agents are rebuilding and how Roxy and Eggsy react to their first recruits. We could hear the story of Harry’s first recruit, and we can end the film series with Eggsy finally becoming a man whose fulfilled his potential, instead of his potential being fulfilled at the end of the second movie.